Page 105 of Vampires of Eden
The morning air is warm as it hovers like an invisible shawl perfumed with fresh earth and blossoming violets. Pretty birdsong floats on a gentle breeze. Above the snow-tipped mountains in the distance, the sky is blue and cloudless. I can see the depths of the range and its scattered peaks for miles.
Looking down at Alexander set in all this gloriousness, my nature tingles brightly. I bite my lip and decide to take a chance. “Can I help? Is it okay if I touch you?”
He lifts his head again, puzzled. “Uh, sure?”
I step onto his yoga mat parallel to mine so that I’m standing over his back. Gently, I place both of my hands at his lower spine. He tenses. I feel his muscles coil underneath my palms. “Breathe,” I say. “Take a deep breath, then blow it out. I’ll help flatten your back.”
“Okay,” he says, muffled.
With my hands placed firmly at his lower back, the sparkling and citrusy current of his nature flows into my palms. It dances around my wrists, then streams up my arms in a delightful, electric sensation. He breathes in. His muscles expand beneath the contours of my hands. When he exhales, I softly press into his back to flatten it, adjusting his position.
His body yields to me and his hips and arms stretch deeper into the pose. From this angle, he’s long, beautiful and drenched in sunlight. His scent is heady and I’m distracted by the warmth and hardness of his body beneath my fingertips. It’s conjuring some very lewd thoughts and reactions within my own body.
“How does it feel?” I ask.
His answer comes after a long pause. “It’s good.”
“This is how the pose should be. You weren’t deep enough—make sure to keep your heels on the ground?”
“Okay.”
Relinquishing, I stand straight and sigh. Touching Alexander with both hands is like having my palms against a generator fueled by fire and oranges. “Shall we do some sitting and ground stretches?”Stepping back onto my own mat with my bare feet, I sit, facing him with my legs folded.
Without speaking, Alexander shifts into the same sitting position. Weirdly, though, he does this with his eyes closed. Once he’s settled, he inhales—his shoulders rising then falling as he blows it out. He sets his hands in the gap of his legs and doesn’t move.
“Are we alright?” I ask.
“I’m fine.”
“Why are your eyes closed?”
His lids flutter open to reveal glowing irises. He stares down at his hands, but briefly glances up at me before closing them again. He grins, playful. “Don’t mind me.”
Reaching across, I brush and crawl my fingers into his hand. “I mind you.” When his palm is firmly in mine, I decide to reach for the other one. Soon, both of our hands are clasped as we sit opposite one another. Him with his eyes closed and me, observing.
“Do you listen to your nature when it does this—when it speaks to you?” I ask. “Or do you shut it out?” I think I already know the answer, but I wonder if he’s conscious of the choice he keeps making.
He opens his alighted eyes and stares down at our clasped hands. “I don’t listen to it. I guess… I just try to stop it from being vulgar and weird.”
“Why do you think that your nature is ‘vulgar and weird’?”
“Because it’s always doing things that it shouldn’t be doing.”
“Like what?”
“Like…” Alexander looks to the side, taking in another breath. “Wanting Oliver when he didn’t want me. Forcing itself on him. Forcing itself on you.”
Pausing, I consider for a moment. “Have you ever intuitively listened to your nature? Or areyoualways telling it what to do and how to feel?”
Alexander meets my gaze, contemplating and not speaking as if he’s confused.
I go on. “You once told me that you chose Oliver because on paper, you matched. You picked him based purely on social constructs?”
Alexander nods. “Yes.”
“Not because your nature organically desired him.”
“Well, no…” He looks down at our hands again. “So, you’re saying that I’m the one manipulating my nature, yet I keep displacing the blame?”
