Chalk Butterfly: Part One (First Time Erotic Romance) (12 page)

“Alexander?”

Alexander nodded, not trusting himself to
speak. He had a feeling his dating skills weren’t quite up to
par.

“I have a tie at my apartment you could
borrow,” Daniel said softly, his hand sliding down Alexander’s arm
to catch at the slim wrist. Daniel brought Alexander’s hand into
his own, unknowing of the stinging pain it caused Alexander. “I
could lend you a shirt too, I have some smaller ones from my
skinnier days. They’ll hold my reservations.”

Alexander nodded again.

“Alexander.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Really.”

“No more of that, really,” Daniel said.

But Daniel didn’t know what Alexander had
actually apologized for.

***

The car ride to Daniel’s apartment shared
absolutely nothing in common with the earlier ride of the same
sort.

There was no playful banter or light
conversation. Alexander stared out the window in near
mortification, occasionally mumbling apologies.

He was nervous out of his mind when the car
finally stopped in an affluent neighborhood and Daniel graciously
opened the door for him. “Thanks,” he said, allowing Daniel to help
him from the car.

Daniel grasped Alexander’s elbow carefully,
fighting the urge to just wrap the worried man in his arms. He knew
Alexander blamed himself, knew Alexander felt miserable over the
turn of events.

“Watch the gutter,” Daniel said as they
crossed the street. Alexander stumbled a bit, wincing as he did so,
and it was then that Daniel really wondered about him.

He’d had fleeting moments of clarity about
Alexander, suddenly feeling or knowing something about the man,
something private. Who this private Alexander was, he wasn't quite
sure.

They entered the impressive building and
took a flight of stairs up to the first floor.

“It's right here,” Daniel said once they
came upon his door. He fumbled with the key in the lock, bringing
someone into his apartment for the first time in months.

For as well as he could see, Alexander found
the place to be immaculate. Daniel flicked on a lamp or two, but
the light was dim at best. “Here, I’ll set some things out on my
bed, and then you can pick what you like,” Daniel said, leaving
Alexander in the living room.

Alexander nodded after Daniel, still closed
up inside himself.

If he had been nervous before, he was
terrified now. Now Daniel was annoyed with him, perhaps even a
little angry…

Could he tell him the truth?

Alexander thought not. But there really
would be no avoiding it, not when they sat down to dinner, or even
when he changed.

Taking a deep breath, Alexander leaned
against the wall beside the door. His eyes adjusted quickly to the
darkness of the room, and he could see large paintings lined evenly
all along the walls.

Only a few inches of space lived between
each wall hanging, and Alexander found himself intrigued despite
his own worry. He walked to the far wall and stood beside the sofa
there.

He slid his right palm up the wall, finding
the rough surface of what was definitely a painting. He could feel
the rough brushstrokes even through the mittens and he knew the
canvas must have been painted with heavy acrylics, or something of
that nature.

Something thick and unyielding, something
that dried fast and couldn’t be altered.

The curves of paint dug into the heel of
Alexander’s hand, the pain waking him up somewhat. He let out a low
groan, his head snapping back as Daniel entered the room.

Daniel would have been quite bemused to know
of Alexander's sudden insight into his own character, especially
after his own flash of discovery with Alexander moments prior.

“Let me show you to the bedroom,” Daniel
said, possibly for the first time in his life without any untoward
insinuation.

Alexander followed him, somewhat removed
from the situation as he thought back to the paintings. They felt
ugly, why would Daniel buy such things? Perhaps he found them
interesting or unique.

“Just let me know if you need some help with
the cuffs or anything,” Daniel said as they entered the room.
“Tricky little buggers.” He gave Alexander a half smile, and
Alexander returned it uneasily.

“Thanks,” Alexander murmured.

Daniel left then, watching Alexander toy
with the thumbs of his mittens.

Alexander knew this would be a task. The
button up shirt alone would take a good five minutes, and then he
had the tie to worry about…

Had he ever worn one before? Of course he
had, back in England at his aunt’s stuffy attempts at dinner
parties.

He sighed. He’d even tied them himself, he’d
felt childishly proud of the accomplishment.

But that was before… well, before
everything.

Time was ticking and Alexander pulled off
his gloves. His hands shook slightly, but he didn’t concentrate on
that.

“Okay,” he said aloud. “Okay.”

Feeling a bit more desperate than usual,
Alexander tugged the sweater over his head, finding his chest and
back covered with a thin sheen of sweat. He didn’t dawdle, only
picked up the crisp white dress shirt from the bed and pulled his
arms through. He was doing an efficient, albeit painful job, and
the less he thought about it, the better. It was usually only when
he thought about things and put them to words that he broke down.
He wouldn’t make this real.

But it was rather absurd, he knew. Only five
buttons were done up before he found himself sitting atop the bed,
attempting to calm his breathing. The air burst from his lungs at
such a rate he wouldn’t have been surprised to find himself soon
hyperventilating.

Two more buttons and the first tears swam
down his cheeks.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gritted out, the pain
lacing up his fingers and through his palms. His hands hurt
tremendously that evening, more than they had in weeks. “It’s just
a shirt.”

He glanced at the clock then, found that ten
minutes had passed.

“What am I doing?”

Four buttons were left, but after them
remained the tie and the cuffs and the explanations. Alexander
squeezed his eyes shut tight, sliding to the floor, needing to feel
grounded. There was no way he could do this. There was no way he
could do any of this. It wasn’t the shirt that held him back. He
knew that. He held himself back.

A small sob of tension broke free from his
lips, dozens more following after.

What a mess he was, what a useless burden.
He knew this was a sign of the future roadblocks in his life. He
couldn’t even dress himself properly. He couldn’t get his own
groceries or take care of his own cat.

Everything was crashing down on him, things
he hadn’t thought about in years, things he thought didn’t matter
anymore. They were all suddenly important.

He thought about how he'd dropped out of
university because the days were too long, too stressing. How he'd
torn his family apart with his disease, forced his mother to take
them from everything they knew and loved. How they'd only moved to
the states because the best doctors practiced there, because
Alexander’s mother wanted him to have a normal life even if it
destroyed hers.

Alexander let the tears come because he knew
he couldn't stop them. He squeezed his hands together and let the
pain course through him as punishment.

How could he know Daniel had heard? Wasn’t
he still in the living room, on the far side of the apartment?

Daniel hadn’t heard, not from the living
room, but had gone to check on Alexander after fifteen minutes had
passed without a peep from the younger man.

Standing outside his bedroom door, he heard
the quiet sobs which grew louder with each wheezing breath. Daniel
only paused a moment to make his decision.

He opened the door.

Alexander was hunched over, his back to the
bed, the dress shirt crumpled and hanging from his shaking
form.

Daniel stood in the doorway, eyes finding
the fuzzy mittens on the floor, the heavy sweater on the bed.

He watched Alexander curl his bandaged hands
around himself.

There were no words.

Chapter
Seven

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Daniel didn’t know what to do.

Back in his younger days, he hadn’t been the
most confident child, nothing like the person he now presented to
the world. People saw him as a successful businessman who was
usually very serious and headstrong, sometimes even arrogant.

But Daniel knew it was all facade; that boy
still lived in him.

Growing up, things constantly shifted and
changed, nothing felt permanent. There was no consistency in his
life. Only from stability did Daniel find his confidence. If he was
really honest about it, he thought himself cowardly.

Now, standing awkwardly in his own bedroom,
he felt ill at ease.

Alexander hadn’t looked up yet, hadn’t
noticed Daniel’s presence. His face pressed back into the mattress
behind him, his entire frame shaking. The situation was surreal
enough, and Daniel fought for some sort of understanding.
Alexander’s hands were wrapped to the wrists, but why?

If Daniel really thought on it (and he did,
if only to prolong the uneasy silence before the uneasy words that
would need to come), he hadn’t seen Alexander’s hands during their
first meeting. Had Alexander been hurt then too? Was he hurt?

As anxious as the situation made Daniel
(little insecurities worming their way up through the tough skin
he’d worked so hard for), he also felt an undeniable need to
comfort Alexander. Yes, he knew he could very easily walk right out
of the room and act as if he hadn’t seen a thing. He could wait for
Alexander in the living room, allow the young man time to compose
himself, and let him do the explaining.

But Daniel felt rather adventurous that
evening.

“Alexander?”

Alexander’s head snapped up, an immediate
scarlet blush playing across his cheeks. He let out a little
hiccupping sob, his feet pulling up tight to his body, his eyes
staring wide and wet at Daniel.

“Alexander,” Daniel breathed again, finding
himself crossing the room and crouching beside him. “What’s wrong?”
His hands fell to the younger man’s shoulders, lightly massaging
the tendons there. Alexander squirmed at the touch, seeming to
sober from his near anguish.

“It’s nothing,” Alexander replied, clasping
his hands together gently. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to ruin
your evening, I--”

Daniel frowned hard and allowed a soft hand
to turn warmly against Alexander’s neck. Alexander moved away from
the touch initially, but pressed in the moment Daniel’s hand left
his neck.

“Don’t apologize,” Daniel said, watching
Alexander closely. “Talk to me.”

“You know that’s not my strong suit,”
Alexander said uneasily. “I do owe you an apology. I wish I could
handle this like an adult.”

“Hey,” Daniel said, shifting so he was
sitting beside Alexander. “You apologize too much for yourself.”
Alexander sniffled and shook his head, new tears spilling down his
cheeks.

“No,” he whispered, holding up his wrapped
hands.

Daniel took the thin wrists gently in his
hands, thumbs stroking the soft skin there. “Tell me what’s
wrong.”

“I’m not well.” Alexander allowed Daniel to
hold his wrists, feeling more vulnerable than he had in ages. It
wasn’t only the physical contact, but the intense look in Daniel’s
eyes that made Alexander shake.

“What’s wrong?” Daniel felt something lurch
in his stomach. “You can tell me, it’ll be all right,”

Alexander took a short breath and closed his
eyes. “I have a rare skin disease called Epidermolysis Bullosa,”
Alexander said flatly.

“On your hands?” Daniel asked, his eyes
shifting from Alexander’s reddened face to his long, wrapped
fingers. Alexander nodded.

“My feet too,” he said. “Sometimes on my
legs or my arms. I’ve had lesions since I was eleven. It’s… god,
I’m sorry,” he ended on a whisper. “I should have told you earlier,
I should have but I was frightened you’d—”

Daniel took a hand from Alexander’s wrist
and pressed his own fingers lightly against Alexander’s wet cheeks.
He was still confused about Alexander’s condition, but he couldn’t
imagine anything about the younger man would turn him away now.
“Alexander.” He brushed at the tears, his fingers slipping beneath
Alexander’s chin, raising the downcast eyes to his own.

“You treated me like a normal person,”
Alexander said. “Everyone I know coddles me and I didn’t want you
to think I was helpless… or weak. I wanted to see how it felt to
maybe have something normal.”

Daniel shook his head and gave Alexander a
small smile. “I like you,” he murmured, his hand falling to squeeze
Alexander’s shoulder. “I’m not exactly sure what you deal with on a
daily basis or anything like that, but I doubt I’d treat you any
differently.”