Part 38: The pixies celebrate victory (serialized fiction)
Here is this week's chapter of my serialized comic novel "Four Bidding For Love."(Those who find absurdist humor and adult situations offensive, please read no further.)
Now the pixies were painfully aware that even their magic would fail if a couple's first kiss went awry, and they hovered over the pair anxiously, awaiting the verdict of Nature.
Perhaps if she hadn't been sitting in a glowing pyramid of golden magic dust, and if Robin's lovemaking hadn't sparked a hurt humiliation in her, and if the couple in the flat above hadn't been enjoying themselves quite so audibly, and if the lighting hadn't been so soft, and Ross hadn't been wearing the romantically scented smoking jacket, and if he hadn't groomed himself quite so thoroughly, and if he hadn't been quite so infused with warm gratitude and if his desire to seduce her hadn't repressed his usually irrepressible irascibility, then she might have found his kiss repulsive. But instead she found it rather nice—nicer, in fact, than she'd expected,
Having not kissed a woman in years, Ross was tentative, and tender, and this fit Alexia's preferences for a first kiss. When he paused to kiss her eyelids and caress her hair, then Alexia's resolve, and her hurt, all began dissolving like ice being showered with tropic rain.
For though he dreamed of more, Ross did not expect more than a kiss and the pleasures of being enveloped in her scent for a few moments. And not being pushy was exactly the right strategy for a guarded, wounded intelligence like Alexia's. It was pleasant, this kiss, this attention, this affection, and she liked that someone thought she smelled good.
The pixies circling worriedly round the embracing pair issued a collective sigh of relief, for the first kiss had gone well enough, it seemed, and now events were proceeding down the intended path. For it was impossible for humans saturated with pixie dust to hear other couples in love and not feel a spark of passion themselves; and ever so gently, Ross edged down that slope, and ever so gently Alexia did not protest their mutual slide.
Rather like his care with the meal just consumed, Ross well knew the value of preparation; and so he was careful and attentive to the details, and enjoyed the exploration rather than the race. He had sensed from their first locked gaze that Alexia was a touchy, even jumpy filly, and needed reassurance that she was always in charge of the proceedings. Aware of his lack of practice, Ross was content to move as if there was no denouement, and so Alexia had the luxury of reassuring herself she would halt things after just a bit more. But that halt never came, for all humans seek comfort after trauma; and despite her wish to be invulnerable, Alexia was entirely, if reluctantly, human.
Or perhaps the golden, glittering dust was simply too plentiful and too persuasive for even Alexia's iron will to slough off, and so the pixies' celebration of complete victory was soon at hand: three for three. Leaving a detachment to keep the Green Street house's inhabitants on track for the weekend, the main body of pixies left for their next job, conversing animatedly about the resistant one who had taken so long to surrender.
To read the previous chapters, visit the "Four Bidding For Love" home page.