?No, Mama, Its not like that at all. Slate is? different. I don?t know how to explain, he just is.? Austin sighed dreamily.
?Git yer head outta the clouds girl. Wake up!? Alma Daniels pinned her oldest daughter, Austin with a pointed look.
?My head isn?t in the clouds Mama, I think I might be f??
?Wake up, Austin!? Alma interrupted.
Austin woke with a start, fully expecting to see her mother there, scolding her. The darkness and quiet surrounding her was a surprise after the dream. The visions in her sleep had been not only loud, but blindly bright; as though her mama was standing in front of a mega-watt spotlight. Austin hadn?t seen her features, just her shadow.
She sat up, remembering that she was at Slate?s place, and not her own little basement apartment. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out the shapes of his coffee table, his bedroom door, the television. She remembered starting the movie and being contentedly snuggled into his side. She didn?t remember the end and she didn?t remember the blanket that was keeping her warm now. She gathered it up in her arms and held it closer, lowering her face to it. It smelled like Slate, causing a middle of the night smile.
She turned her eyes towards his bedroom door. Despite the fact that Austin had always been a relatively good girl, Alma Daniels tended to be extremely protective of her girls? hearts. She subscribed to the old ?Why buy the cow when you get the milk for free?? school of thought. Austin wasn?t quite as old fashioned as Alma, thankfully, or she?d have missed out on some fun experiences.
Is that what Slate was? A fun experience? She shook her head no in answer to her own question. Already he seemed like so much more. Probably more than was strictly considered ?safe?. Austin knew Slate was ready to move on to another level and she couldn?t for the life of her figure out why she?d been hesitating. Or rather, she knew but wouldn?t give it any power by acknowledging it. She carefully monitored everything she did, thought or felt. She always had. Control. It was all about control. It applied to singing and she applied it to life in general. If she wasn?t in careful control of herself? What? What would happen if she wasn?t, she wondered.
Sliding out from under the blanket, she crept quietly to Slate?s door. With her hand on the knob, she hesitated. What if the door was locked? How would she feel if he?d locked her out. She turned around without trying the knob and headed back to the couch, sitting down with a flounce. She hated that she felt so? so? out of control around Slate. How many times had she looked like a dog chasing its tail when she couldn?t decide between staying or going, between speaking her mind and shutting her yap? At 28 years old, should all of this really be new to her? Until RhyDin, she thought she knew pretty much everything there was to know. So what the &^%$ hell was wrong with her?
Somehow, while her mind swirled like a tornado in a trailer park, her body had moved from the couch to his bedroom door again. (Her body and mind so often fought, they were siblings that needed to be separated at times!) Austin figuratively stuffed a sock in her brain?s mouth and turned the knob. She wouldn?t consciously recognize the relief she felt when it wasn?t locked. She didn?t need to see in the dark, the layout of his room was burned indelibly in her mind from their first real dinner date. Leaving his door open a crack (?In case I need a fast escape?) She tip-toed through the darkness and slipped into bed next to him. As badly as she wanted to press up against him and feel him next to her, she stayed on a small sliver of bed and closed her eyes. Before drifting off to sleep, she reminded herself to be prepared for potential consequences of being there uninvited? whether they be good, or bad. The moment, however, was all good; a comfortable bed and with a man that made her uncomfortable in all the best ways.
?Git yer head outta the clouds girl. Wake up!? Alma Daniels pinned her oldest daughter, Austin with a pointed look.
?My head isn?t in the clouds Mama, I think I might be f??
?Wake up, Austin!? Alma interrupted.
Austin woke with a start, fully expecting to see her mother there, scolding her. The darkness and quiet surrounding her was a surprise after the dream. The visions in her sleep had been not only loud, but blindly bright; as though her mama was standing in front of a mega-watt spotlight. Austin hadn?t seen her features, just her shadow.
She sat up, remembering that she was at Slate?s place, and not her own little basement apartment. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out the shapes of his coffee table, his bedroom door, the television. She remembered starting the movie and being contentedly snuggled into his side. She didn?t remember the end and she didn?t remember the blanket that was keeping her warm now. She gathered it up in her arms and held it closer, lowering her face to it. It smelled like Slate, causing a middle of the night smile.
She turned her eyes towards his bedroom door. Despite the fact that Austin had always been a relatively good girl, Alma Daniels tended to be extremely protective of her girls? hearts. She subscribed to the old ?Why buy the cow when you get the milk for free?? school of thought. Austin wasn?t quite as old fashioned as Alma, thankfully, or she?d have missed out on some fun experiences.
Is that what Slate was? A fun experience? She shook her head no in answer to her own question. Already he seemed like so much more. Probably more than was strictly considered ?safe?. Austin knew Slate was ready to move on to another level and she couldn?t for the life of her figure out why she?d been hesitating. Or rather, she knew but wouldn?t give it any power by acknowledging it. She carefully monitored everything she did, thought or felt. She always had. Control. It was all about control. It applied to singing and she applied it to life in general. If she wasn?t in careful control of herself? What? What would happen if she wasn?t, she wondered.
Sliding out from under the blanket, she crept quietly to Slate?s door. With her hand on the knob, she hesitated. What if the door was locked? How would she feel if he?d locked her out. She turned around without trying the knob and headed back to the couch, sitting down with a flounce. She hated that she felt so? so? out of control around Slate. How many times had she looked like a dog chasing its tail when she couldn?t decide between staying or going, between speaking her mind and shutting her yap? At 28 years old, should all of this really be new to her? Until RhyDin, she thought she knew pretty much everything there was to know. So what the &^%$ hell was wrong with her?
Somehow, while her mind swirled like a tornado in a trailer park, her body had moved from the couch to his bedroom door again. (Her body and mind so often fought, they were siblings that needed to be separated at times!) Austin figuratively stuffed a sock in her brain?s mouth and turned the knob. She wouldn?t consciously recognize the relief she felt when it wasn?t locked. She didn?t need to see in the dark, the layout of his room was burned indelibly in her mind from their first real dinner date. Leaving his door open a crack (?In case I need a fast escape?) She tip-toed through the darkness and slipped into bed next to him. As badly as she wanted to press up against him and feel him next to her, she stayed on a small sliver of bed and closed her eyes. Before drifting off to sleep, she reminded herself to be prepared for potential consequences of being there uninvited? whether they be good, or bad. The moment, however, was all good; a comfortable bed and with a man that made her uncomfortable in all the best ways.