Page 30 of The Dark Obsession

However, I haven’t been able to paint.

Partially because of the new environment since I’m used to thriving in my own space. The other reason is Tyson.

He keeps me on edge, not only with his overwhelming presence.

Whenever he’s near, he keeps touching me, making my body come alive for him every time.

Whether it’s brushing a hand over my hip when we pass each other in the kitchen, holding my hand as he guides me towards the couch or keeping his palm splayed on my thigh when we’re sitting plastered next to each other on the couch.

It’s not inappropriate per say, more like he subconsciously needs the reassurance that I’m there.

And I never pull away.

It feels inexplicably good. Comforting yet unsettling at the same time.

I don’t want it to stop.

The latest addition to my life is the newfound freedom in the kitchen that I’ve been thoroughly enjoying.

Tyson has been slowly teaching me how to cook new recipes, allowing me to experiment with different food combinations.

He even has the decency to pretend that they’re edible.

Being allowed to do whatever I want, having free reign and being able to make a mess in the kitchen without getting scolded for it. It’s liberating in a way I never knew before.

We’ve also been cooking together, silently chopping side by side. Tyson passing me his peeled potatoes that I slice into thin circles, making home-made chips while he takes care of the dishes.

He’s the brooding type who gets around without saying much save for a few grunts. Except when it comes to his woodworking projects.

Neither of us feeling the need to fill the silence and I’m grateful for it. Words don’t come easily to me.

Meeting new people and having conversations that go beyond what is the necessary minimum of politeness were always difficult.

I wasn’t just introverted but downright disinterested in most human beings, never caring about the latest gossip.

All those interactions seemed so shallow and pointless that after a while I stopped trying so hard to make friends, to fit in and be accepted.

I felt most comfortable on my own.

It wasn’t isolating when I didn’t seek the company of others in the first place.

I’m sure my controlling parents were partially to blame for these tendencies but it’s who I am at my core, and I’ve come to terms with it.

Even learned to embrace it once I realized that I don’t have to fit the mold of what society expects of me.

Despite having to act the part on the few social outings a year, at home I could be myself.

What I didn’t expect was that my desire for being left alone and live somewhere secluded would come true to such an extreme extend. In a way,I got what I always wanted.

I guess it’s true when they say to be careful with what you wish for.

Except I didn’t account for a dark-eyed mountain of a man in my dreams.

In the past, whenever I was forced to be around other people, there was always this itch go get away as fast as possible. To flee to my room to read or paint in peace.

Yet with Tyson, that urge seems to vanish into thin air.

He has this irrevocable pull on me that I can’t quite put into words. I kept chalking it up to simple intrigue but I’m not so sure anymore.

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