Captain Oblivious

Previous: Art in Winter

Winter hadn't even looked at her phone. She was awestruck. “Troy…these…” She looked up at him. “I don't have words right now, okay? They're all…crashing into each other in my mind and I can't pick one to express…it's a good thing.” She said softly.

He…thought she was more than fine. More. Than. Fine. She swallowed. This…this was new to her. “I…I'm not used to…this. I got turned down once in high school…and it was public and it was humiliating and it scarred me…” She was tugging her earlobe again, her other hand still resting over his. “I…you know you could have any woman on campus, right? And…you think…I…me, Winter Yew Caldwell…am more than just….fine…”

Her eyes met his. “Can you…would you…tell me what more than fine you think I am?”

Jesus, Winter, that made no fucking sense. You're speaking gibberish. This ridiculously hot guy who is also a total sweetheart thinks you're more than fine…and you lose the ability to make words.

Troy let her struggle over her words. He didn't stop her. He didn't interrupt her. He just let her words tumble out of her mouth any which way she let them. He pulled his sketchbook out of the hand she was holding and chucked it onto the bed, taking her other hand down from where she was tugging her earlobe.

“Give me a moment.” He breathed in deeply. He closed his eyes. He couldn't grip his neck or touch his forehead. All things he would normally do to calm his nerves. Then he opened his eyes. He went through everything she'd said. “In order… Yes, it's OK, I understand. Yes, I have women throwing themselves all over me. Yes, I think you're more than just fine. I think you're…” Come on, you can say this…

“There might be a lot of words that just tumble out here, so bear with me. Gorgeous. Hot. Wonderful. Sexy. Sweet. Beautiful.” Deep breath. “And you're cute when you're flustered.”

“Anything I missed? Questions?”

Winter had been tugging hard. Her lobe was red, her eyes wide as she stared at him. He was holding her hands. Breathe, Winter. Oh. He did have tons of women throwing themselves at him. What made her special then?

Words. Words, so many words he spoke, words she never saw in the mirror. Words he saw in her. Words she couldn't see in herself. “I don't want to throw myself at you though…” She whispered. “I…I won't ever do that again. I learned my lesson when Devon tore up the card I made him and screamed at me that he'd never be with a cow like me…”

Captain Oblivious here.

“I like you. A lot. But there's a lot of other women, prettier, skinnier…who would give you everything you wanted without you have to lift a finger. I….love that you see me like….that…” She gestured to the drawings. “But I can't just…throw myself at your feet.”

Troy squatted down again in front of her. “Winter. I can call you Winter, can't I?” He didn't wait for a response before continuing. “Here's the thing. I said I have women throwing themselves at me. How many of those women do you see here right now? None. How many women do I invite to my room because they asked for notes? No-” Oops. Getting into that sort of a rut was bad. “One. You. How many women have I drawn? OK, that answer is 'a few'. But there's only one I've shown my drawings to.”

Connect the dots. One.

“I don't want you to throw yourself at my feet. I do want you to go out to dinner with me. How does tomorrow night sound?” The longer he spoke, the more he said, the easier he found it to talk to her. He finally found the courage to ask her out.

“You could call me anything and I'd take it. Winter. Yew. Your girlfriend.” She flashed him a winning smile. She was trying not to panic. She moved to answer…

Bleep. Gimme a sec. Okay. She waited, and watched his face. “Is…everything okay? You don't have to call me anything. Winter is fine….I was just trying to…” She wanted to try and explain…the merry nature was part of her.

Troy came back after checking his phone, taking her hands again. How to re-engage. She said 'girlfriend'. Answer her question first. “Yeah, everything is fine. Someone sent me an article on Su-your sister. And Kaine Hayden. I didn't realize you were so well connected.” He paused for a second before making his opening gambit.

“Okay then. My girlfriend. That means you're going out with me tomorrow night. Sal and Carmine's. Meet me by the Butler Library main entrance, six o'clock.”

He wasn't going to take no for an answer.

“I…yes. Summer Caldwell is my older sister…and she's dating Kaine Hayden. But…I'm not riding her coattails or anything. She brought me with her to America shortly after she graduated from Oxford. She wanted me to have a chance to take my ambition and make something with it. If it changes anything, I'll underst–”

Oh. Oh…“Sal and Carmine's? But…the dress…” Oh shit. Did this mean she had a plus one for the Gala? Don't get ahead of yourself, Winter.

Troy chuckled. He wasn't trying to suggest… “I didn't say you were riding her coattails. I'm sure you're here on your own merits, everyone else is. You wouldn't hack it if you weren't good enough anyway.”

He gave her hands a little squeeze. To him, that was as good as accepting the invitation. “You'll fit. I'll make sure you'll fit. Come with me to the gym, I'll be your motivation. I promise you'll fit in any dress I choose for you.” Whoops. Getting ahead of himself. Let's just hope she doesn't notice.

“I know…I just…I know everybody talks. I know people think I'm some sort of academic embarrassment. But I'm not, I'm going to be graduating magna cum laude.” She choked back a laugh as she remembered the taunt thrown at Kaine. “And I'm keeping it secret. I want to surprise Summer.”

Her fingers curled around his. “I think you need to have a collar on me before you go picking my dress out.” She smirked.

Full of surprises, the sunny Caldwell was.

Troy laughed along with her. “I won't tell if you won't.” Of course she wouldn't tell, she just said that you lovestruck dolt!

She said something interesting as her fingers curled around his. Huh? Collar? Like a pet? What? Like… 50 Shades? “Um, what?” TILT

It took a few moments for Troy to reset and realize she'd spoken more than just that word. He'd had images of a choker around Winter's throat. Or a dog collar. Or… He hadn't quite figured it out. “Collar? I could manage that.” Quick learner. Or, at least, willing to experiment.

Winter stared at him. “Wait what? Ummm…you know it's not like…fifty shades, right? I….”

Wow. She never thought she'd have a boyfriend, let alone someone who could…would…seemed open to…

Get you a man who can do it all.

“I've never actually…but I've read a lot about it. I'm pretty sure Kaine Hayden puts my sister in her place after working hours but I don't want to know. But wait. You'd want to try that? Like…picking out my dress? Taking care of me? Pointing at me and saying “That's mine. That's the puppetmaster that cursed my dick.”? You'd…want…to…have me….kneeling? Naked?” She gasped.

Troy chuckled nervously, taking one hand from her and reaching to curl his fingers around his neck. “Yeeeeeah. That's, like… Abuse, right? I haven't read it, but I know so many people love it. I remember reading something a while ago… Ummm… Ms Donnelly? I think that was the name attached to the article.” It didn't paint the book in a good light.

He looked down involuntarily at his groin when she mentioned the 'puppetmaster that cursed my dick'. It was an odd turn of phrase, but… He didn't freak out. “Ummm… Yes, yes _{I already said that one,} yes, yes, yes, yes, yes and yes!” There might have been a couple too many yesses in there. He'd lost count. He was an artist, not an accountant!

He stared into her eyes, soulful brown eyes speaking a thousand words.

Be mine.

OK, that was two. It wasn't a picture, he'd already shown her that.

“It is! You read that thesis? Summer brokered a sale for her, actually. She's this sweet, wispy little thing, and she's got this big burly firefighter…and she calls him Master. I met them at the final paper signing, for about two hours. So I asked her about it, right? And she said a bad book recommendation led her to where she is. And she…they looked so happy.” She smiled. She followed his gaze to his groin. “Oh god, that was a joke! I don't want to curse your dick…”

Oh, she turned a lovely red at the mental imagery that brought up. “She gave me a book name…Screw the Rose, Give me the Thorns, I think it was called.” She caught his gaze.

Oh, there was such soul in his eyes.

Be mine.
I am.
Yours.

Troy chuckled and shook his head. “If anyone else had threatened to curse my dick, they would probably have gotten a punch in the jaw.” A bigger laugh as that image came to mind. “It's okay, really. Stop worrying about it.” Then he realized she'd spoken about the writer of that article… But… Wha? “Really? You met her? I heard she died. I even read the obituary.” He had. Now he was confused.

He saw her red cheeks and took a chance, leaning down to place a kiss on each flushing cheek. More cuteness. “Sounds interesting. Like… There's pain involved.” That didn't send him running for the hills, either. It brought up lovely images of scratching, biting, spanking… Being an artist meant having a vivid imagination.

Mine.

Troy could get used to that.

“Oh, I know. It was like…a week before? There's a girl downtown who kinda reminds me of her so I keep thinking she's still around.” She laughed.

Her cheeks grew warmer with the kiss he placed to each one. “I can handle a little pain if I'm well tended to. I think. I honestly wouldn't know. Never took a chance on a guy so I've never uhhh..yeah.” She admitted. Hair pulling. Spanking. Something called a Wartenburg wheel the wispy lady had spoken highly of.

Her eyes met his. “Would you…like me to be yours….” She tested a hunch….“Sir?” She said, batting her eyes at him.

“Oh. I guess you were lucky then. She sounded smart.” Downtown. Hold on. There's a coffee shop where there's always a firefighter.

His brain was trying to connect two and two but only came up with pie. Apple pie. Don't ask, such is the mind of an artiste.

Well tended to. What does that mean? Looked after? He'd tend to her every need if she just asked. He'd figure it out as long as the relationship lasted. They didn't usually. The odd fling here, one night stand there. Women always wanted him for his handsome body, but they never held his attention. He'd given up, but Winter was smart, sexy, and fun to talk to, even if she didn't realize any of those. There were a few guys he'd overheard talking about how they'd 'tap that ass', but nobody ever had the guts. Now he knew of her sister, he understood why.

Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. He was already elbows deep, may as well keep going.

'Sir'. Shiver. Oh, fuck, yes. That sounded good. Mine. “Yes. Yes, so much yes!” He grinned from ear to ear, but his cheeks also flushed. She wanted to be his girlfriend. Wait… She wanted to be… His… What? His. She hadn't attached any words to the 'yours'.

The answer was still yes, even if he wasn't entirely sure what he was answering yes to.
Apple pie sounded great. Okay, that thought came from nowhere. But she also knew while she had no experience in…intimacy…he did. Never seemingly for long. She had to make her position clear.

“I…if I'm in, I'm all in, Troy. I'm not a little girl who can't decide which toy she wants to play with, I'm a grown-ass woman and I play for keeps. If I'm doing this…you have to know I'm doing this all to work towards the whole package. Marriage. Kids. More than a season.” She said, smiling up at him. “So if you're willing to try for that, I'll call you Sir all you like. I'll kneel at your feet and call you Master. I'll trust you with everything about me. Even the doubts and fears beneath the sunny surface. I'm not offering a fling, a dalliance. I'm offering more than a season.” She squeezed his hands.

Troy listened as she monologued her thoughts, fears, desires and needs to him. He filed away every item. Marriage. Kids. Eternity. Or something like that. Trust. Sir. Shiver. Master. Shiver. He wanted it all. He wanted all that she could give, and to give her all she wanted.

“There's a reason I stopped paying attention to the ones throwing themselves at me. None lasted. There was nothing more than lust. And lust? That's just fleeting. I want love. I want passion. I want someone who will stick by me through thick and thin. Someone who will be the mother of my children.” Squeeze. “You aren't a fling, a dalliance. I could see you wanted more, that you were saving yourself for the right one. I…” Choke. Swallow. Breathe… “I hope I can be that right one. I know you've seen me, you've been watching me, even, possibly, have a crush on me.” A slight chuckle before he continued.

“You think I haven't noticed the sidelong glances? The glassy eyes as you daydreamed how I look without clothes? I'm not blind, Winter. I want whatever poison that courses through your veins, I want to help you grow, to branch out, spread your leaves.” OK, maybe that was a bit of a stretch.
Were his hands…shaking? “Sir.” She tested, waiting for his reaction.
“Master.” A pause.

“Crushes are not something that I ever thought I could…do anything about.” She said softly. “But yeah. I've had a crush on you since freshman year….you've…always been the most handsome man I've ever seen. Always. Since that day.” She said. “Fawning….isn't my thing. You're the closest I've come to it.” She said, looking down at her feet.

Troy managed not to shiver either of those times. The effect was different from the first time she spoke them. This time it was more of the buzz from an adrenalin rush, although much shorter lived. Those micro highs made his eyes sparkle in recognition. If she wasn't paying attention, she wouldn't notice, but the signs were there as to how those words made him feel.

He placed his hand under her chin and lifted her face upwards, up, up, making her look at him. He could have slipped his hand into her hair and dragged her head back to get the same result, but that would be another time when he was more confident in his ability as her Master. He was still trying to understand why those words gave him that buzz.

“You came when I invited, yes? You could have made an excuse to grab someone else's, already typed, notes. You didn't run and hide when I opened the door barefoot and topless. You're stronger than you think, Winter Yew Caldwell.”