Chapter 3: I didn’t come here for that.
Sweat trickles down Kal’s neck. His heart palpitates with each knock. “She’s here,” he sighs.
“So sweaty, mon ami,” Elles says, confidently letting herself in. She examines Kalcyphir’s spotless apartment. Lavender and spices serenade Elles’ nostrils, while her bags are laid to rest near the front door. “Ca va?”
Kal shrugs. “Yea,. I’m fine. It’s just–Whenever you’re near me– I dream of home. That night… When I was chosen.”
“C’est la vie,” Elles responds, nonchalantly evading the weight of the topic. Sauntering into Kal’s open living, she passionately adjusts herself on the red leather sofa and moans as she stretches. Glancing at his Kal’s bronze skin excites her; how does he always look so healthy?
Elles is a little shorter than Kal, and much paler. Her larger-than-life personality makes up for her natural, malnourished, but attractive appearance. Long, silky hair complements her unnaturally symmetrical face. Like all of the Couriers, she is also a virgin, who has never known the touch of a mortal man. Her foot gently taps a laptop shut over the coffe table. “You know… I know when you use this thing, and it–”
Something in her curious mischievousness, and constant rambling had always made Kal feel safe. It never mattered that he happened to be several millennia older than Elles. When they were together, an undeniable radiance attracted their palms to the soft surfaces and crevices of each others bodies. The lust they shared with other Couriers is abysmal in comparison to the bone-tickling, knee-quivering, fireworks that erupts with their effortless embraces.
“So, you want to talk, right? Sigh.”
Elles nods as Kal plops beside her wondering what’s on her mind. Normally, Elles goes through the trouble of breaking into the building, avoiding all the cameras, security and that annoying heiress at the lobby who was forced to get a “real” job. But, tonight is different. Is she after something only he could provide?
Elles squints at Kal’s uncovered chest, her pale cheeks as red as roses. Kal flashes a wicked grin and nods like a child who deduced what was under the Christmas tree.
“… Aye… Pauvre petit…” She sighs, dramatically placing the back of her palm on her forehead. “Amour, I am not here to enjoy our usual union. The opposite, actually.” Her fist supports her head as she leans over the left arm of the couch. She avoids looking directly Kalcyphir. “My alias is going to pass away– along with her fictitious family on a jet crash southwest of Madrid. Her orphaned, but well-to-do older cousin, Alma, will in’erit the family’s wealth.” Elles clears her throat. “Tres bein, no?”
“Yea, if you made it up yourself, I don’t usually go through the trouble of all the theatrics. But, whatever you like. So is there a fate your chasing across Spain?” Kal says, gently stroking Elles’ right arm.
“Oui- Well, perhaps not exactly, but the human is an era-defining figure. I will know more when I find her.” Knowing Kalcyphir, if she builds up the fate, even though it doesn’t really exist in the first place, he’s going to get suspicious or start probing. Emery wouldn’t deserve that. Not after he–
“Hmmm. Well, its the first time in a long time that my place is so quiet at midnight,” Kal responds, interrupting Elles’ train of thought. He slides a little closer to her and wraps and arm over her shoulders. The City lights pierce his curtains, emphasizing Elles’s soft, pretty face and auburn hair. It’s hard to think that she’s leaving, it feels like she had just arrived. Used to loss and disappointment, Kalcyphir probes the subject. “When are you off?” He asks, coldly.
“Je ne sais pas… perhaps tomorrow. Perhaps in a week. I only know that it will ‘appen. You know les Divines: Message in a dream… when you’re drunk, fumer du pot, en le toilet, or whenever. It does not matter to them.” Elles sighs, placing her head on his exposed chest.
Kalcyphir plays with her hair while embracing her tightly. “It was fun while it lasted.”He pauses and takes in the tropical scent of her freshly washed hair. “Are there any Fates you need to issue before you go? Are they near me?”
“No. I am just preparing to babysit the face that may launch a thousand ships.” Elles laughs, gracefully rubbing her shoes off her feet with her toes. “I want to spend this night with you. Here.”
Kal smiles. “Feel free to stay a while then. I only gotta’ go push a birthday boy in front of a drunk driver tomorrow night outside of some club in Chelsea. I’m free.”
“No meetings at the office?”
“That was 20 years ago, Elles. I don’t work there anymore, remember? The money just goes to Milton Thomas’s estate,” Kal laughs. “I teach as a substitute to break the monotony every now and then. Or I tutor college kids… the stocks you told me not to buy in the 30s, and all my crap from over the years, keep me pretty safe I can’t blow half a million dollars in a day, even if I tried.” Kal stands up and walks to the kitchen. “Drinks?”
Elles chokes on her response. How is she going to get on without him? They hadn’t gone longer than a week without each others company for the greater portion of 200 years. In a strange way, Kal belongs to her, even though Elles belongs to the world, in her mind at least. Even stranger, to Kalcyphir, nothing or no one, except the Couriers, belongs to anyone or thing.
Elles had always envied and despised Kalcyphir for his spiritual and mental freedom, and the loathsome way in which he handled intimacy. There were never any strings: Kal didn’t care whether Elles came or went, or that she saw other Couriers. She could almost swear his mind is denser than any element on the planet, and his complex nonchalance is really a sign of his primitive perception of existence; despite this, he is hers. He is the world. Unfortunately, her coveting will be her downfall. Born into serfdom during the Renaissance, Elles knows nothing else save for the arousal that warms her loins upon possessing each and every fleeting desire. No forethought, or regret, Elles always needs all or nothing. Right now, she needs Kalcyphir.
Elles gets up from the couch, her heels clacking on the polished floor tiles as she steps into the kitchen. She presses herself behind Kal who’s mixing a strawberry drink. Feeling his breaths and the warmth of his exposed skin, Elles slides her hands down his jeans and feels his manhood stiffen in her palms. Exhaling gently on his ear and licking Kal’s neck, Elles begins stroking.
Kal turns around and forces Elles against his stainless steel refrigerator, passionately pressing his lips against hers. He grabs her hands and pins them against the cold appliance’s surface. Their lips lock and tongues dance. Elles’ skirt hits the kitchen tiles; her shirt gets tossed indiscriminately, revealing her hard nipples and supple breasts. Kalcyphir lies her on the ground, yanking her leggings from her smooth legs. Elles’ high heels flail in the air as he presses his soft lips against her slippery labia. His tongue dances around her clitoris, intermittently thrusting deep inside of Elles releasing unconscious moans. She melts as Kalcyphir penetrates her; they merge into one celestial beast with two backs, free from the tyranny of conscious thought. In the dim light, tears of joy roll down Elles’ face. For the first time in a couple of weeks, Emery and Kanti escape her mind, but like all good things…