One in a million

A call girl - This was who I was in this job. I had wanted him to accept that so much. I was not a strange and mysterious creature in a fairy tale. I was very much grounded and soured by all the dirt in the world.

"But we have talked and we will talk more." He said, in a resolute tone.

I could not understand this man.

"I don't want to talk, Mr. Boardmann. Please, just let me show you what I do best." I said, truthfully.

Perhaps he wondered if I was a nymphomaniac. I did not care anymore. Talking with him resulted in disastrous results. I had to pull myself away from any sort of conversation with him. It was getting difficult for I was lured into it like sailors to the maleficent siren of the seven seas.

"Lila, I do desire you, but not more than I long to hear what you have to say. You stimulate me that way. You amaze me with your train of thoughts. You say the most peculiar things out of the blue, but I feel an affinity to your words. I find myself healing from my pain." He said.

His voice resonated with flames of passion; soaring higher with every syllable which came out from his lips. It was almost poetic, and my heart could not resist the power in his speech. His words too had the power to yield me to his bidding. I thought not of what I said, they were inconsequential to me. I sought rather to get the message across in the most practical way. Therefore I was touched that he felt an affinity to what I said.

I was aware that to him, essentially a stranger; I had uttered peculiarities but it need not be dissected word for word. I was a sphinx not a prophet. He was too a sphinx, not a prophet. We were both alike on this pane. We were both confusing each other to oblivion.

My lips parted. I took in his kind words as endearments to me. It was akin to a declaration of a part of his soul to mine. He said he felt me, and I had but felt him. How strong was this feeling coursing through my very veins right now! It was like an addiction of the heart to want to consume his intrigue; to go on as a heart soaked in opium, feeling nothing other than the desire which fuelled it. It was all bad for the body in the long run, but for now, I could neither resist its pull nor did I want to.

"I know you are not much of a conversationalist, but aren't you going to say anything at all?" He asked.

His voice was unsteady. His fingers were trembling on my chin. He caressed them ever so lightly that I wondered how such a self-professed brute as claimed could be so gentle. It did not seem that this was the same man who brought me to tears with stinging conversation.

"Thank you, Mr. Boardmann, for thinking highly of me." I said, breathless and confused.

I was drawn towards him like a moth to a flame. Only that I was aware that I was heading for trouble. I went in knowingly with my eyes wide open, and I could only blame myself if anything went wrong.

"You're one in a million. You should think highly of yourself, Lila." He said.

His voice was clear and had a rather instructive tone to it.

Meanwhile his fingers which were at my chin all this time, began to graze my lips casually. Because his movements were deliberately slow, I felt the pressure as intensely invigorating. It teased me, tempted me to move but I could not despite the backlash of raw energy. It was a nerve-racking experience for me. No one had ever done that so slowly before. He brushed the whole of my lips lightly with his exquisite touch, again and again.

"Now then, he bleeding has stopped. Don't go ever go biting your lips again to every word I say. Do you understand me, Lila?" He said, with a slight smile, releasing his hold on me completely.

My skin had more than tingled with the pressure of his touch. When he released me, it felt strange and I was kind of lost for a moment. I felt cold. It must have been the chill in the living room.

I could only nod.

"I did not mean to bite my lip. It was an accident." I said immediately, feeling silly.

Tring to find my voice, it came back to me incoherent, and I felt even sillier.

Then, he looked at me as a caring friend would.

"Of course, Lila. I am much too self-centred. I speak as though I own you, and we know that's not the case. I am a bully." He said, with layers of regret in his eyes.

Then he added, "I am sorry, Lila. I know I have apologized before but I do not want to make this a habit. I want to be a better man."

I shook my head.

"I am all right, Mr. Boardmann. You can hardly be faulted for what I do to myself." I said, in a soft voice, feeling touched and respected.