Status: Ongoing

Flecks of Sun

Let it In

It was two days until the New Year. The past three and a half weeks went by in a blur. I had spent two of those weeks cooped up at my Grandfather’s recuperating and listening to the news.

I then went to Bordeaux where my father had a small house to spend some time with him. My father had made it out three times to Bangkok to visit me there, which was quite a feat considering he didn't prefer to travel much.
The vineyards stood empty, which was quite a contrast to the harvest season. Employers and employees would be in the vineyard for up to twelve hours-if not longer. The wintertime was a welcome respite – in a different way. Although the outdoor and fermentation work was done, the wine cellar processing began. My own father had tried his hand at owning a vineyard. He was a businessman after all. But of all the French things my family could in, was a history for wine. Granted we liked to consume it, but my father underestimated the investment. He sold the property and bought a small house on a hill. He would still purchase from local wineries though, to support the region. I loved Bordeux in the winter. It was a silence that did not come in the spring and summer. Ville had stayed in Paris for a few days before I asked him to leave. I knew he had work commitments he had cancelled due to me and while I welcomed his presence and had begged him to stay, I needed some time to myself to process everything.
I had eight days with my father; five alone before Mr. Valo came again. I wanted to share a part of my familial origins with him. There was nothing quite as beautiful as Bordeaux in a hazy wine glow after a few glasses. My father had relocated here after my mom passed away and stayed. He said they had gotten engaged here.

His tall figure greeted me at the train station. His salt and pepper hair was turning more grey now. He had the same green-grey eyes as his father and as I. I looked a lot like my father, something that shocked even Ville. From my mother I had only her pouty lips and long dark brunette hair – which I had been dying as ombre the past two years now for a change. I was grateful I didn’t look too much like her other than that. It would have hurt my father too much I thought to look at me and just see her. I had his cheekbones, his height, and his his frame. My mother had been a curvy woman and while I had inherited that; my father’s height and natural athletic frame dominated my physical appearance more than that.

“Hello, legs.”

I laughed. My father was referred to as “Legs.” He took long strides and loomed over everybody, quite unusual for a Frenchman. He had bestowed the moniker upon me at eleven years of age when I hit my height growth.

“Takes one to know one,” I said enveloping him in a hug. I loved my father but he was stoic and in the hospital he had shown his emotions beneath that unmovable surface. My grandfather hated it, thinking he ought to feel more. He chalked it up to my mother’s untimely and unexpected death.
The cold nipped at me and I was craving a cigarette. I pulled one from my peacoat pocket and my father chided me.

“Dad, I’ll break the habit.”

“Please, do. I think it is unbecoming and who wants to kiss a smoker?”

Ville smoked, Ville knew I smoked and we had kissed. But to oblige his concerns, I snuffed the just-lit cigarette and followed him to his car.

“Do you need anything from the Pharmacy?”

“No, I got more drugs before I left Paris,” I answered him holding up a plastic bag.
I wanted to enjoy the Christmas season but all of France was under a banner of sadness. I shook my head. It would take me years to fully process that. I saw a therapist in two sessions while in Paris and agreed to continue when I knew what I was doing with my life. That thought also stressed out my season. I wanted to banish all of these thoughts but knew I had to figure it out. Work granted me leave until the third of January and I had to book a flight back to Asia. The thought depressed me but I did not have a back-up plan or job and I was too proud to rely on my grandfather’s offer of financial support. I figured if I was in my norm then it might come to me. I had missed Europe but I didn’t see my future in France. I had entertained the thought of moving to the United States but quickly rejected the idea. I needed to be grounded in some familiarity after everything that had happened. The North continent was not familiar. Though I had citizenship, I had hardly ever felt like it was home.

The first few days went too quickly. My father was working as a consultant now for two companies and planning projects with my grandfather. I missed my grandfather and we had already planned a holiday together in June to somewhere. I had an inkling he wanted to go to Finland again, a make-up to my doomed trip. Finland…..Ville….my cheeks flushed.

“Who are you thinking about?” my father interrupted, setting down a glass of wine.
“Nothing-“ I muttered.
“Em, I know that look. Are you bringing him as a sort of meet the parental figures-figure,” he corrected himself and a sadness glimmered across his face before he replaced it again as if she had hadn’t crossed his mind.
I sighed. I had tried to get him to date again, but it was a boulder I could not push. I just wanted him to be happy and not alone.

“No, I don’t think so. I mean we are not dating and I just wanted to introduce him to some regions of France he hadn’t been to.”
“A rockstar- never has visited here?” he asked incredulously.
I laughed.

“Yes he has visited but-.”
My father’s cell rang.

“Hold on, I have to take this. He stood up and disappeared inside the house again.

I was alone. I stared up at the blue sky where faint white night clouds hung. The moon was almost directly above me and I stood up to get a closer look.
My phone too chimed.

“Is Bordeux colder than Helsinki?”
Ville’s message lit up my screen. I laughed. I felt his presence would be a much needed relief.

“No. But bring your winter clothes anyways. It is cold.”

“What if I didn’t bring any clothes?”

I gnawed the inside of my cheek. He was a tease.

“I suppose you’d freeze then.”

“I thought you’d be keeping me warm.”

A major tease.

“I am sorry to disappointment you, That was not part of the arrangement.”

“I’m open to negotiations then…”

“I’m sure my father has some flannel you can borrow.”

“You are a SCREAM! Flannel? Would you find that sexy?”

It was past midnight there, he was being very direct tonight.

“Depends, are you going to wear it?”

“For you, I would but we know I can rock any clothing. But do you know what I can wear better than anything?”

“Hmmm?”

“Nothing.”

My face flushed with a blush and a smirk.

“Sorry about that- are you alright?” my father asked, rejoining me on the terrace.

“Uh, yeah. I was just going over Ville”s accomadations for Bordeaux.”

“He’s staying at a hotel?” my father mused thinking on something.

“I thought it would be “unbecoming” to ask him to stay here,” I replied borrowing his words.

“Nonsense, he’s our guest. He should stay with us and I need to leave..”

“Leave?” I asked incredulously as I turned to face him. “But Christmas and –“

“Em I will be here for Christmas but on second Christmas day I have to fly to London for a meeting. I can not miss it.”

“I was just in a- in a – in a fucking nightmare and now you want to leave when I’m visiting?” I asked hurt.

Growing up, my dad always busied himself with work and it was partly why I become more attached to my grandfather.

“Em. I am sorry.”

“But you hate travelling,” I counter-argued.

“I have to go to these meetings.”

“What if I had died, would it be more important than that meeting? Would you miss my funeral for that?”

“You won’t be alone. Ville is coming-“
“You can’t even answer me!”

The anger and hurt were bellowing out of me. I wanted him to get to know Ville, I wanted him to show him Bordeux and I wanted to spend time with him.

He didn’t answer me.
“Please stop being a child!”

I was speechless. He had never snapped at me before.

“You’ve been moping around this whole time. What is going on with you? You know what-I don’t want to know. Stop being an asshole,” I retorted and headed inside, leaving him.

I had a few messaged from Ville. He couldn’t get here soon enough. I was looking forward to it. I wouldn’t let my fathers attitude diminish that.
**

I dialed my grandfather in the morning to ask him to join us in Bordeaux but he said he had Christmas plans and could not join. I was not angry as I didn’t want him to cancel already made plans. Breakfast was a silent affair except for a few words.

“I’m picking up Ville from the airport at in a few hours, in case you wanted to know where I was-if you cared.” My tone was still snippy but I was still upset with him. What could be so important he had to fly out the day after the holiday. It wasn’t like someone was dying.

My father wouldn’t indulge my attitude and merely nodded. I huffed and pulled back my chair to bring the dishes to the sink. I was acting like a child and I hated to prove him right.
I walked over to him and kissed his cheek as he held onto my shoulder and squeezed it gently.
**

The drive to the airport only took forty minutes and I paced the arrival hall, impatient. My head was a mess. I was thinking about too many things, least of all why my father had to get to London so urgently.

Soon the boarded announced that his flight from Helsinki had landed and my attitude was replaced with a nervousness. I didn’t want my bad mood to rub off on Ville.
I waited and waited until that familiar gait strode out of the doors and I couldn’t contain myself.
He was here, for me, to see me. I was tired of over-thinking everything. I ran up to him and swung my arms around him as he was caught off guard but without hesitation returned the embrace and swept me off my feet as he pressed me to him. He smelled so good. I hadn’t noticed in my excitement but when he put me down and I stepped back to help with his luggage, I took in the full sight of him.

“OH Ville,” I breathed and stifled a laugh. But it escaped my lips and I was laughing.

He had worn flannel, but not just any flannel, full flannel pajamas.

“I can’t take you to meet my father again dressed like that.”

“I suppose I’ll have to change then,” he said feigning disappointment. I nudged him with my elbow and turned to direct us out of the airport when he grabbed my hand. This time I was caught off guard and looked up at his face. He was taller than me but not much and he leaned down effortlessly to kiss my forehead. A shiver ran down my spine as he kept one hand in my own and the other to carry his small luggage. We found the car and I drove to his hotel.

I parked the car and he raised an eyebrow.
“Are you coming inside?” he asked.
“How long will you be?” I asked and assured him there was no rush.
“I’ll grab a shower then as well.”

I strode inside with him as he checked in and he got a few stares. He was gorgeous.
This time I grabbed his hand and he laughed as he pulled me to him and toward the elevators.
His room was on the eleventh floor.

“You’re quiet today. Not your usual self,” he mentioned and stared at me.
“I’ve just had little sleep,” I said which wasn’t far from the truth.
Ville didn’t press the matter further but I knew he would ask about it later.

His room was spacious and he left me to go shower.
I sat on the bed and leaned backward. It was so comfortable. I felt my eyelids closing.

“Well this is a sight to behold,” Ville said taking in my form as I jolted awake.

“Sorry, I am a bit tired,” I said sheepishly.

“You mentioned that. Care to talk about it?” he pressed and shut the bathroom light off.
My mouth went dry. He stood there in just a towel hung low around his waist and his abs showed against the darkening evening with his pale skin.

“I’d care to do something else,” I said as my eyes traced his body and I bit my lip when I saw the V at his lower abdomen.

“Cheeky today. This is a new side to you,” he answered and took a step forward. I stood up and took a step toward him. He leaned down and took my hands in his own and rested his chin on my hair.

“Ville?”

“Yes?”

“Kiss me, please.”

He obliged me again and gave me a long slow kiss. I was frustrated. That wasn’t what I wanted so I would show him. I didn’t know where the aggression came from but I pushed him back toward the wall and he gave me a confused look. I met his mouth with mine and my hunger for him was evident. He slowly responded to my kiss but whatever hesitation he had, he abandoned them as he cupped my chin and brought his lips closer and his tongue met mine.

He circled one hand around my waist while the other grabbed at my shirt to pull it off. I stopped him and quickly pulled my shirt over my head, but he was faster and pushed me against the bed.
His hands were on my belt unfastening the loops and I was scooting myself out of them as he leaned down over me. His fingers began to bring down the lace underwear I wore and once he had removed it, I feistily dropped his towel from his waist and threw it past his shoulders.

“Are you sure Kulta?” he asked as he loomed over me.
I answered him by leaning in to kiss his lips once more as he removed my afce from his and began to bite at my neck.

“I’m sure,” I breathed hoarsely.
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