Misty Thought of Him (18+)

Alaric found himself unable to escape the weariness that lingered in his mind, despite Shafina's repeated exclamations and pleas. It was unlike him. The blush on Shafina's cheeks, her hair clinging to her sweat-drenched skin, and the alluring intimacy of her voice usually be his perfect distraction, dispelling the fog that enveloped Alaric's thoughts. But something was amiss within him tonight. How could it be that a lowly woman like Aisha had the audacity to engage in a spirited debate, defending her Princessa's views, and become so unsettling? What was it about the fact that Aisha was too intelligent, in comparison to most of the women he knew, that intrigued him?

The stifled sounds emanating from Shafina brought Alaric back to his senses. Their bodies entwined, their movements growing faster with each passing moment. Shafina, her eyes tightly shut, exuded an irresistible allure. Yet, Alaric found himself perplexed as to why the fog in his mind refused to dissipate. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, as she moaned in ecstasy, nearing the brink of orgasm, while Alaric knew there was ample time for his own satisfaction to be fulfilled.

Damn it. He cursed his mind for choosing to work at such an inopportune time tonight. He felt like a mere machine, a piston pumping in rhythmic beats, while his brain resembled a set of serrated gears, spinning rapidly but out of sync with his heart and logic. Even though the intoxicating sensation had begun to course through his body. It emanated from the depths below his waist.

"Ah, darling!" Shafina exclaimed with a moan.

Alaric stared at her, moving faster. It didn't take long for his lover to reach the peak of her desire. Shafina looked at Alaric, gasping for breath, understanding that he was still steadily moving as he had yet to reach his own climax. Shafina was clearly puzzled, but she was too immersed in her own, assuming that Alaric desired a prolonged play. She caressed Alaric's face, passionately kissing his lips. It was successfully dispelling some of the haze in Alaric's mind as he now gazed deeply into Shafina's eyes.

"Darling, this is truly satisfying," Shafina sighed, tossing her head back in ecstasy, feeling a sense of exhilaration as she realized that Alaric was indeed an unstoppable machine, tireless in his pursuit.

Alaric let out a low growl as he sank his teeth into Shafina's exposed neck before him. A soft cry escaped as he forcefully released their connection. Shafina looked at him disapprovingly, while Alaric gave her a sinister smile. Without hesitation, he swiftly maneuvered Shafina's body, causing her to kneel, propped up on her arms. Without warning, Alaric leaned in close, eagerly pursuing the sensation he sought with Shafina. He knew his lover would not refuse; there was no room for hesitation. Alaric sank his teeth into Shafina's shoulder, never ceasing his swift movements. Shafina's moans became fragmented, in tune with the rhythmic motions of Alaric as he prepared to reach his climax.

"Oh, my dear! This is too... aarghh!" Shafina's trembling cry reverberated through the air.

Alaric cradled Shafina's body, positioning her to straddle him as he guided her towards another peak of ecstasy. In no time, Alaric realized that they were on the verge of reaching it almost simultaneously.

"Shafina, my love!" Alaric moaned, eliciting a fervent response from Shafina.

"Oh, darling!" Shafina's wild cry escaped her lips as the climax finally embraced her.

Alaric held her tightly, his lips tenderly grazing her shoulder and nape as he continued his passionate rhythm. Shafina found herself on the brink of surrender as Alaric gradually slowed his movements. She exhaled a sigh of relief, realizing that she had anticipated Alaric's immediate transition to the next encounter. Exhausted, she feared she wouldn't be able to bear the ensuing blessings if not given a moment's respite. Nonetheless, an overwhelming sense of satisfaction coursed through her, even though Alaric felt distant, almost unattainable.

But why fret? Her body had been thoroughly satiated, surpassing even her own expectations. She resolved to reserve her inquiries for the morrow, instead of tainting the night with troubled thoughts. Delving into why Alaric seemed unfamiliar and distant would only tarnish the sweetness she had experienced tonight. Shafina was nearly drifting off to sleep when she emitted a small gasp, startled by Alaric's withdrawal. Alaric's breath still lingered, warm and intimate, as he placed a gentle kiss upon her temple and whispered a tender goodnight. Shafina simply smiled, offering a tender peck on the corner of Alaric's lips before succumbing to a deep slumber, utterly spent.

Now Alaric sat facing the illuminated television screen, the sound muted. He had already taken a shower and eaten once again, attempting to lighten his mood. However, it seemed that the fog lingering in his mind was still difficult to dispel, despite his recent session having provided him with immense satisfaction.

Slowly, he sipped on the now lukewarm honey tea.

Chamomile. It was chamomile tea.

By chance, he had noticed it on the pantry shelf. Perhaps Dono his perfect PA had bought it in response to his offhand remark about having trouble sleeping lately. Chamomile, with its calming aroma, was indeed suitable for relaxation. It had long been a favored choice for those seeking to combat mild sleep disturbances. The scent wafting into his nostrils was undeniably soothing, prompting him to briefly close his eyes as he deeply inhaled its essence. Suddenly, a memory resurfaced: Aisha always drank chamomile tea when they spent time together in Manhattan all those months ago.

In an instant, Alaric's eyes opened wide, fixed on the television displaying a chase scene through a dense forest. It was Ravenous, starring Guy Pearce, an old film filled with admirable actors that always managed to leave Alaric feeling queasy. A dangerous film, attempting to probe the boundaries of cannibalism's legitimacy.

He suddenly became aware, was this nausea the alarm the wise ones had spoken of earlier in the evening? The alarm that would remind oneself, in any way possible, to put an end to tolerating that which did not align with absolute truth?

Hastily, Alaric reached for the remote and switched to a random channel. His finger paused as the screen displayed the visage of Tilda Swinton. There was always something captivating about the actress. Alaric recalled Aisha once remarking that actresses like Tilda Swinton and Helena Bonham Carter would have careers that spanned a lifetime in the world of film, much like Johnny Depp and Christian Bale. It was certain that Aisha, a movie addict herself, could fluently name-drop A-list actors and actresses.

Shaking his head, Alaric became aware once again that his thoughts veered towards Aisha, driven by an excessive curiosity. This relentless curiosity about Aisha's enigmatic nature prevented him from fully savouring the accomplishment he had just shared with Shafina.

Damn it! What was wrong with him?

Alaric refused to blame Aisha as the cause, for that would be an admission that he was indeed thinking about her. It was preposterous! Yet, as his eyes stared into the depths of the tea in his cup, Aisha once again flickered across his mind.

The fog in his mind dissipated, replaced by the unwelcome presence of Aisha. Aisha Roestam, the Personal Assistant who turned out to be far from foolish. A perfect PA who could rival Alfred, the faithful hands of Sir Bruce Wayne. And now, the unassuming figure of Aisha occupied Alaric's thoughts. Yet, they had never exchanged a single word since their tea at St. Regis three months ago.

Alaric knew his curiosity was fuelled by Aymard's unwavering desire to get close to Aisha, with reasons that piled up day by day. First, he was captivated by her resilience as a single mother. Then, Aisha's beauty, her healthy lifestyle. Even Aisha's choice of books left Aymard astonished, strengthening his resolve to approach the woman once referred to as a MILF. But that was Aymard! It would be absurd for Alaric to find himself drawn to Aisha simply out of curiosity, every time he heard Aisha's anecdotes from Danti that amused him during lunch breaks. Aymard would chuckle like an awkward teenager every time Danti playfully mocked.

Roughly, he placed the cup on the table in front of him. With an exasperated grunt, he folded his hands across his chest and pondered. He had heard that excessive curiosity could kill a cat. Was that what was happening to him? The overwhelming curiosity had clouded his judgment, misinterpreting the commands of his inquisitive mind regarding Aisha, all in the name of understanding Aymard's infatuation. The lack of synchronization between his intention to discover Aisha's allure—to comprehend why she had captivated Aymard—and his own heart translating it as a signal to get to know Aisha better. He furrowed his brow, realizing that this was completely unlike him, who was accustomed to not giving a damn about anything. It was vexing, and the most vexing part was that he was growing more curious about Aisha.

Alaric widened his eyes, horrified at his own thoughts. Did he genuinely just think that? Admitting to growing more curious about Aisha? Truly, he was in a wretched state!

His phone rang twice. Aymard's name appeared on the messenger app, instructing him to activate RSVP.

Today. 3:08 AM___________Jaya Emyr was clearly visible, delighting in teasing Aisha. Wasn't it Aymard who had initially tried to get closer to the Assistant? Uh-oh, would history repeat itself? Would Jaya Emyr cause Aymard's woman to turn away?____________________________________________________________

Alaric fell into a reverie, the RSVP indicating a presence last night, teasing Aymard once again. Perhaps he would consider Dono's idea that the potential contributors of RSVP might not like Aymard. Maybe he should also add it to his agenda, to find out the identity of RSVP. Clearly, it was not just one person. Then Alaric swallowed his saliva. Seriously?! Even the true identity of AR Durlach remained elusive to him. Was it still fitting for him to meddle?

Once again, in a rare occurrence, Alaric felt a sense of emptiness and unworthiness to arrogantly issue commands that would trouble Dono. So, once again, Alaric cursed himself, what was wrong with him? Why did he feel so unfamiliar tonight? It was as if he was not the same person who was always optimistic and had a positive mindset. Where had his confidence, which used to envelop him like a thick cloak, disappeared to? Alaric was even convinced that he did not recognize the figure reflected in the ornate mirror he unconsciously stared at. Just as he locked eyes with his own reflection, he spontaneously asked,

"Who am I?"

A question from a far-off land that was acknowledged to be too rhetorical. The answer was available, but difficult to interpret in the arrangement of letters for one reason: no one truly had an absolute answer to that question. Yet, it was a question as universally significant as the true/false values debated last night. The only difference was that one was absolute, while the latter was relative.

Alaric found himself momentarily adrift, a slight intoxication taking hold as he pondered the depths of his own identity. A shiver ran down his spine, and a trace of sourness lingered at the back of his throat, leaving him restless. Peering once more into the hazy reflection before him, he mustered a disdainful smile.

"By God! What peculiar thoughts assail my mind? It is unequivocal that I am a man of dignity, one who possesses all the trappings that invite envy. A figure silently revered by faces unknown!"

A hush settled at the edge of the fading night, as the first light of dawn painted the horizon. Alaric was now acutely aware of the soothing chill that enveloped him, a deliberate act of opening the window. He abhorred the recent turn of events. To question one's own self? It was the domain of the insecure and dissatisfied. His life was a tapestry of perfection, meticulously woven. What need was there to entertain such ponderings? None. It was a tiresome affair, one that would slowly erode the bedrock of confidence he had so assiduously built. For he was a man of extraordinary distinction, born and bred in the realm of opulence. Blessed with both an extraordinary countenance and commanding authority. What more could he possibly desire? It would be sacrilege to reproach the Almighty for lack of gratitude.

The strange thoughts provoked by Jaya Emyr and Aisha had truly unsettled him, causing the fog of Alaric's mind to coalesce. And then, not long after, they seemed to take on a tangible form - embodied in none other than Aisha herself.

Very well, Alaric muttered inwardly.

He would admit it, the question that had plagued him was indeed sparked by the unexpected revelation that Aisha could not be underestimated. Somehow, unbeknownst to him, Aymard and Dharma had consistently pressed him to delve deep into self-discovery, to truly know himself in order to make decisions of greater significance.

Therefore, Aisha was like the ignored fuse atop a ticking time bomb. In less than a single night, Alaric grasped the meaning behind Dharma's intentions. In less than six hours, Alaric found himself questioning more than just the concise summary of his life from childhood up until yesterday.

This is madness and eerie. It's completely unlike him. It's not the Alaric style at all. Clearly, it has a negative influence on him, as his eyes refuse to shut. It's incredibly unsettling because he felt like an empty shell in his presence to Shafina earlier. Yet Shafina had been his ultimate addiction in recent years. It's horrifying to think about what thoughts are brewing in his mind. He even finds himself speculating on how Aisha behaves during orgasm. Will she engage in discussions of ethics, morals, and aesthetics before moaning? Alaric curses himself in disgust. This is dangerous because he now realizes that his perspective on Aisha has shifted alongside his newfound perspective on himself.

"Who am I? Am I truly fortunate? Or is it someone like Aisha who is fortunate?" Alaric murmured as he welcomed the early morning with his final sip of tea.

Humans, indeed, have a penchant for seeking trouble. They delight in questioning trivial matters but find themselves burdened when unable to provide answers. Could it be that Alaric's mind is clouded, so much so that he resists embracing the cries of his heart? Perhaps he is currently deeply influenced by Aisha's thoughts. Simple as it may be. If only Alaric would cease denying and complicating matters.

Indeed, it is true that curiosity does kill, not only cats.

*****