The Truth Behind The Mask

A/N too tired to edit the spacing sorry

Chapter 4

'That passionate kiss was just what the doctors ordered for my ill heart.



    It was a huge hit to my ego when Aaron cheated on me. I started to have a lot of negative train of thoughts.



    Thoughs that could not be chased out of my head no matter what.



    Maybe, I was not good enough in between the sheets. You wouldn't believe how important this was. Why you do thing



so many marriages or relationships fall apart? It due to the spark being extinguished, the passion all but gone. Maybe I



was not as eye pleasing as the thing that was beneath his legs two hours ago. I might be too old, not handsome. Physical attraction



was a big thing after all.



    But I reckon the biggest reason was simply. I'm was simply more in love with him then he was. It was always the



case with me. My foolish heart only knew how to rush forward, impulsive to a fault. That why I am always the one in tears



and having huge amount of chocolate in stock. I could not  help myself - I'm a sucker for the idea of a fairytale love, a magical



happy ending. But as many fairytales, they are never true. What you see was what you get, my heart was always on my



sleeves. I could never hide my emotions and that was why I was forever been taken advantage of. Even I knew that.



    There was one thing I was never capable of: indifferent. There was no buts, ifs, or grey areas. It was all in or



nothing at all. No wonder hurt seemed to dogs my footsteps. I wonder how many more frogs I had to kiss to find the Prince



Charming of my fairy tale. He seemed to be very good at eluding me.



    Yet, with all my "lessons in love and life", one passionate kiss was enough to make my broken heart to fluttered a



interesting beat. And  a mutual attraction that spark a flame that burn so bright, it hurt my eyes...and it sparked a



fading hope. A hope that maybe that he would be the one that make all my dreams come true. A grown man can dream couldn't



he? Give me some slack!



    Silly me! I just never going to learn it seemed. And you know what? I'm not sure this lesson was worth learning.



    "Um...I'm getting a little cold. Can we get out of this rain? I think it wash all my worries away twice or thrice



over. Ah, please?"



    Oh my, that was so cuteeeee! That little unsecure please at the end...I think my heart skipped a beat. It was a



uncertain voice that was way out of character for a such huge man.



    It was also a big mood breaker! In a puff, the romantic idealisms vanished.





    "Er...Oh....ah.... My house ...I meant....my house is over there...We could go in and get undress ....oopps Ah I



means DRY!"



    With flustered frustration, I grabbed his hand and turned beef red. Damn my impulsive mouth! My arms was on



automatic mode, swing all over the place. I was a clueless, lovestruck fifteen year old boy again.



    Oh, to hell with it!



    If word are useless then...actions will have to just do.

That meeting of two hands in a warm comfortable grip, was a symbol of our newfound friendship/relationship. A symbol of two



men in love with every fibre of their .... only circumstances, society and human's narrow thinking interfered with that



love. We had won against human's folly only to lose to the natural process of life and death.





Eric had to put the papers in his hands down. He was sure even the depressed Henry was bound to notice the wrinkles on the



tear-stained pages. Especially those crumled with so much angry that they nearly torn in half.



He put his head in his left hand. He shook it hard trying to get rid of the pain that had began. Too bad he could not shake



his heart or the man in the dinning room right now. Shake till one of them get some commonsense. He shook his head one more



time in disgust. How can a man that had every material thing and could get anyone, man or woman in a second, still be



utterly miserable?



The answer was simple - what he wanted was in the dinning room. No actually, only one part of what he wanted. He wanted a



soul, a love and a heart. All gone and seem not to return.



What was worst, the man he lost to was long dead. He respected and love his "father" but, he was freaken dead. Dead, and



still winning. He has won everything from the beginning.



He tried so many times to squash that infatuation. He can not even force Henry like he would like to. Slammed his emotions



against that formible fortress that was sky high. He want to will and physically hammer into that thick skull that life goes



on - other people care for Henry- other people truly loved him- maybe just as much as one Michael Hampton did.

He had no idea about seduction. He grabbed his short black hair and let out an strangled anguish.

.

God! He should not suggested that he would personally edit Henry's autobiography. He wished upon a star that he never



utterred the words "Let share the mansion, instead of selling it."



Famous last words it seemed. Now, he could not do a thing, but try to fight of temptation, the urge to do something



drastic.



He need alcohol - no he needed a session of hard, heavy sex. Maybe he needed a long absence from his own home. If he



doesn't .... he does not know what he would do...Something so rash that it could destroy all his chances with Henry.



He used his body and both hands to thrown back his chair. Inertia - seemed to not be his friend - the momentum was so great



he hit his head on the windowsill



    "S*it!" he growled a curse.



It just was not his day was it?



He could just feel his sexual tension increase at his little display of aggression - sent a joint down his groin.



He needed a release or three.



He pulled out his phone, snapped it open and found the number he was looking for. Luke Winter.



He pressed the green phone symbol and barked



"Get ready"



That was that was needed - after all this was not his first time.