Haley Thistle
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You're Dead: Chapter Six (rough draft)
🕑 Added 2021-10-28 20:01:00 +0000 UTCBy the time The Buffalo was set to open, Clover was stinking drunk. I had not been paying close attention to her, and she had replaced her water with vodka. Bowie and I took her home, dragging her back to our apartment. Her apartment.
“I don’t wanna be here!” Clover fought us as we took her inside. She tried escaping, but Bowie could easily hold her and move her around. “No!” Clover fell over his arm and whined. “I don’t wanna,” her voice cracked.
I led Bowie to her bedroom where he plopped her unceremoniously into bed. “Poor thing,” he huffed. “Grief is a hard pill to swallow, even if you try to wash it down with alcohol.”
I removed Clover’s shoes so she could lay comfortably in bed. I also pulled a trash can up close to the side of the bed. “You can’t drink like that,” I scolded her.
“Piss off!” Clover rubbed her eyes, mangling the eyelashes she had put on when she intended to perform. “You’re not the boss of me. She died!”
That was a shot through the heart. I was right here, but I couldn’t be there. “Lay down. Get some rest. I’ll bring in some water for you.” I eased her down onto the bed as delicately as I could while she thrashed and pouted.
“No!” Clover pulled a pillow over her head and started shouting into it.
Everything felt so heavy that my shoulder drooped down low. I left her room, looking at Bowie standing in the kitchen. He was staring into the corner while holding a glass in his hand. I saw those fingers coming through the seam between wall and ceiling, poking and ripping at the paint. The door slammed behind me and it wasn’t even a surprise.
I held my head between hands. “Fuck!”
“Death touches so much,” Bowie murmured.
He had no idea, I grumbled into the screaming of my mind. I took the glass from him and filled it with water. I ignored the little smoky fingers and went back to Clover’s door, but it was locked.Again, I was not surprised.
“How do you know Clover?” Bowie asked.
I sighed heavily and drank the water myself. “Long story.” I chewed my bottom lip. “But I met her this afternoon. How do you know her?”
Bowie clicked his tongue as he sat down upon the sofa. “I see. So you must have caught her crying,” he chuckled. “Ah well, I’ve known Clover for a while. I’m quite a fan of her show at the Buffalo.”
I had seen so many people come and go through the Buffalo, I couldn't quite place Bowie. Maybe without the face mask I would recognize him. But considering how beautiful the top of his face and head were, I would have thought otherwise.
“I’m a fan of Abba,” he then laughed. He touched his face as if that was something to be embarrassed about. “So her one performance was always my favorite.”
“I like Abba too.” I sat down beside him on the sofa.
His eyes smiled. “Then I am in good company.”
His eyes really were phenomenally pretty. The rich brown, the thick eyelashes that gave the illusion of eyeliner. Although, the closer I looked I realized he was wearing smoky eyeshadow. Enough to give his sockets a deeper shadow. Just as I was getting lost in his eyes, my stomach let out the most obnoxious and demanding growl.
Bowie laughed and tried to cover it. “Are you hungry?”
I placed my arm around my stomach. “Yeah, I suppose-” I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast that morning.
“I wouldn’t feel right raiding her fridge. Why don’t we go out and grab something?” Bowie motioned to the door.
I motioned to Clover’s door. “What about her?”
“I’d say she’s twelve hours away from a pretty nasty hangover right about now.” Bowie sounded as if he had all the answers in the world. He even knew what I wanted to hear before I even knew it. Ever since I met him that afternoon, there was a sense of calm around him I hadn’t felt since I passed. Everything had been rush, rush, rush, especially with Freddie and Stevie. I thought for a moment Booker was the calm in the storm, but he proved to be more unreliable than placid.
Bowie walked out of the kitchen and held out his hand. “If you’re that horribly worried about her, you can come back in the morning. But I don’t think there is anything else we can do for her here. Unless you are that intent on avoiding whatever it is you are avoiding.”
I had been shot, no I had a lightening bolt go through me. How did he do that? Would I be able to see such things in the future? Or was Bowie just extremely gifted in seeing through the bullshit?
“How did you-” I was still quite stunned.
Bowie laughed, lifting his hands to his face and holding his cheek. “I see it a lot. But you seem to be carrying quite the heavy weight on your shoulders. You were so focused on Clover today though, I figured you were looking for any chance to ignore whatever that weight was.”
I didn’t even realize I was holding in a breath until I let it out. “That’s almost spooky.”
Bowie chuckled. “So what do you say to some food now?”
I had been relying on the kindness of strangers a lot ever since I died. What was the harm in relying on one more? I smiled at Bowie. “Sure.”
As Bowie stood he offered his hand to me. His palm was long and elegant, his fingers looked like those of a Greecian statue. I took his hand, feeling that fluttering in my chest and belly again. I had always been a sucker for hands, as well as eyes. I could see myself making a few mistakes with Bowie if I weren’t dead.
“You’re cold,” Bowie murmured. He placed both hands around my palm, rubbing them so the warmth of his hands flowed into mine.
“It’s okay.” I didn’t want him to stop, but that wouldn’t be the polite thing to do. I took my hand back, biting back the grin that was seconds away from showing. “Once I eat something I’ll warm right up.”
“Is that a promise?” Bowie chuckled. “Because if you don’t, I’ll warm you up myself.”
Was he flirting with me? Was I being flirted with? That grin came out as I followed Bowie out the door. We went down the street, going to a small Chinese buffet that Clover and I frequented more than we ever touched the kitchen. It was small inside with chairs and booths covered in vinyl so shiny it made everything glow. I had been there many, many times, but the same thing happened there as the Buffalo. I knew this place all too well but through these new eyes everything was different. The glow off the vinyl was less glossy and more halo like. The air of everything was soft and fuzzed over like steam on glass. There was an urgency in the air, but a calm and knowing one as well.
I saw small creatures running back and forth from under the buffet and tables. They looked like fluffy bright red pom poms with squiggly black stick arms. They would grab and fight over food that had been dropped on the floor. Listening closely I could hear them squeaking and fighting.
“Joni, right?” Bowie asked.
I flinched as he spoke. I was so focused on the red pom pom things I forgot where I was for a moment. I looked into his striking eyes and nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”
Bowie hadn’t gotten anything to eat, just boba tea. He pushed the straw under his mask and drank. “After this I can walk you home if you want. This neck of the neighborhood can get a bit frightening.”
I hadn’t thought of going home. Did I even have a home now? Stevie’s place was all I knew since I died. After running away from Freddie and never calling Stevie, I was afraid to go back now. I bet Freddie was furious and I didn’t have the stomach to face him when he was mildly agitated. It also dawned on me that his meeting with Grace could have ended badly for him. I wouldn’t want to meet anyone if that was the case.
“Everything alright?” Bowie leaned in.
I took a bite of food to distract myself and avoid the question. I chewed slowly as I tried to think of a response I could give him. I could call Stevie, but I didn’t want to face Freddie again. I didn’t want to face any of that again.
“What are you avoiding?” Bowie’s eyes were so hyper focused and calm. He looked at me as if he already knew the answer. He was waiting for me to tell him that was all. “It may not be my place, but if you don’t mind, I have a couch you can use for the night.”
I kept my eyes on the food before me. I poked at noodles then stabbed my fork into a hunk of glazed chicken. “I shouldn’t.”
“I’m used to it,” he chuckled. “I’ve taken home many strangers from The Buffalo before. Sometimes because I want to, and sometimes because they need to.”
I sighed heavily. “I’m not even sure what I need to do.” I put the chicken into my mouth, but I made very little effort to chew. How do I explain my predicament to him? I could go along with the bad breakup. It would explain my situation and my attire at least. “I have to go back. But I don’t want to at all.”
That beautiful hand of his touched mine. Those long fingers slipped down the back of my hand and onto my wrist. “I had a tumultuous break up myself a while back. It was gut wrenching,” he sighed. “I still, sometimes, feel the ache of it.” He held my hand and I held it back. “I know what it’s like to pick up that shattered heart. Sometimes it feels like I am filled with so much hatred. But I can just as easily turn around and realize that I am still in love with them.”
His eyes were all I wanted to see. That peace he held in them, it made me feel safe, helped me feel grounded. “I don’t know what to do,” I whispered. Tears slipped down my cheeks. “I feel so lost and if I just had a moment to process things...but I can’t I-”
Bowie’s hand squeezed tight. He then reached out and wiped the tears away from my face. His touch was gentle, his skin was so soft. That comforting touch filled my body, but I needed more. The hug I had gotten from Booker felt so good. I wanted to be hugged and touched again.
Bowie’s eyes revealed his smile. “Grief plays with time differently. It can feel as if it is decades away, but in the same breath can feel as if it happened moments ago. It doesn't work by logic, at least it doesn’t feel that way. However you feel right now, you’re not wrong.”
His words felt like such a relief to hear. Ever since I died I felt as though I was being pulled to one direction or another. Stevie pulled me around, Freddie pulled me around. Booker seemed to be the only one who stood still for a moment to let me breathe until Bowie.
“I wish I could tell you-” I whimpered.
Bowie sighed and he stroked his hand up my arm. “Like I said, I have a couch and time doesn’t exist on my couch,” he laughed. “I promise you that. Eat all you want, Then you can spend all the time you need on that sofa. Okay?”
A kind stranger may have been just exactly what I needed. Especially a kind and attractive one like Bowie. I sniffled, using a napkin to wipe up my face. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?” He put the straw back under his mask and I saw a slight peek of his chin.
“All of that,” I laughed. “Am I transparent or something?”
Bowie shrugged as he drank. He sighed as he pulled the straw back. “You’re plenty opaque, don’t worry,” he laughed. “I don’t know exactly how to answer that. It’s not something I do, more like something I have.”
I decided to ask a very dumb question. “Are you psychic?”
Bowie snorted and cupped his hand around the face mask as he laughed. “You see what I can see, right? Are you?”
I frowned, glancing down where those red pom poms had collected under the table, waiting for me to drop something. “I wouldn’t call it that.”
“Then I wouldn’t either,” he chuckled. “I would say it’s something more natural than supernatural. At least that's how it feels to me.” His hand wafted down from his mouth to his chest. “It’s like feeling the temperature in the room change. It just feel it and-” His eyes flicked back to meet mine and I swallowed. “I feel it.”
“I wish I could feel it.” I chuckled nervously, hating my choice of words.
“Maybe you can. You just don’t understand it yet.” He poked the straw back under his mask again.
Once I had my fill, which was more than I cared to admit, we left the restaurant and Bowie took me back to his place. His place was in the artist district, which was just a few buildings where all the artsy types seemed to congregate. Bowie took me to the top floor of one of these buildings where his place was. The door slid open, revealing a huge open concept loft with giant windows.
“Oh wow,” I whispered. Was he rich? Have I embarrassed myself?
“Make yourself at home.” Bowie removed his jacket and hung it on the wall. “Do you want anything to drink?”
I was still in awe of his place. I walked in, fearing I would disrupt the natural balance of beauty in the place. In the back his bed was lifted up on a platform and surrounded by black curtains that hung down from the ceiling. There was a circle of chairs and sofas around an old cast iron stove. The area was filled with blankets and pillows, making it look soft and cozy.
I sat down there, pulling my legs up to my chest. It really did feel as if time stopped as soon as I sat down. I took a deep breath and shuddered.
“Take your time,” Bowie told me again. “I’m here whenever you need me.” He wandered around the loft for a bit. Going around as a blur in the corner of my eye. It felt nice to sit there and be quiet, feeling alone for a bit as the weight moved off my shoulders.
“Would you like a change of clothes?”
I snapped from my thoughts and turned around.
“Those clothes look like they’re swallowing you, and are maybe a bit dirty.” Bowie strutted along the floor, going to a massive black wardrobe that looked like it belonged in a goth version of Versailles. The doors swung open like the wings of a bird of prey and he opened a drawer.
“This is clean and comfortable.” He turned and waved me over. “You can use my bathroom if you’d like.”
It felt strange walking through his home. I didn’t feel like I belonged in such a place. I felt too small for it, too out of place. I took his offering of clothes and returned it with an awkward smile. “Thank you.”
“Feel free to ask me for anything,” Bowie replied. “I know what broken hearts feel like all too well.”
I wanted an embrace, but that felt like too much to ask. I nodded and as I was going to ask for the bathroom, Bowie wrapped me up in his arms. It was such a sweet relief I felt like crying. I dropped the clothes he gave me and hugged him back so tight and so desperate.
“I thought so,” Bowie murmured against my hair. “It’s okay. I’ve been told I'm an excellent hugger.”
He was! His arms were strong, his body was warm, and he smelled sweet like roasted marshmallows or extra sweet coffee. I buried my face into his shoulder and whimpered softly.
“It’s okay,” Bowie coaxed. His hand rubbed up and down my back. “I told you, you can ask me for anything.”
I felt a stirring in my body, a need for more comfort, for a release. I started to let go and step back before this need grew any louder. “Thank you. I think I’ll be okay.”
“It’s okay,” he whispered into my ear. His fingers stroked along my jaw. I looked into his eyes, and it was unspoken that he understood.
I shook my head. “I shouldn’t-” My hands moved down to his waist. “It’s so complicated.”
“You can see what I can see, for me, that is a relief.” Bowie’s fingers slipped under my chin. “I felt a connection between us as soon as I laid eyes on you.”
My body shivered on its own. “Really?”
“We’re kindred spirits, I can feel it.” Bowie’s finger slid down my throat and to my chest. “I don’t mind comforting you, Joni.”
I licked my lips, wanting to give in so bad. Then again, I thought, I was dead. What was there to be worried about? I looked into Bowie’s eyes and let myself slip a little. I moved my hands to his stomach and pushed up his shirt just enough I felt skin. Bowie chuckled as I touched and he leaned in close to me.
“I want to kiss you, but I must turn off the lights first.”
I pulled back my hands. “What’s wrong?”
Bowie shook his head. “Nothing with you.” He smoothed his fingers along the face mask, tracing his mouth which was hidden underneath. “I am not confident, you see.”
Looking at him, I couldn’t imagine what could possibly be wrong. “That’s hard to believe.”
“I have some scars,” he confessed. “It may sound vain of me, but I don’t like people staring at them. It makes me feel quite repulsive.” He chuckled as if trying to brush it off. “I prefer to keep the light down when I am with someone.” Bowie brushed his knuckles along the side of my neck. “Is that alright with you?”
“If it is what makes you feel comfortable, that’s fine with me.” I gave him a smile to hopefully reassure him.
Bowie smoothed his fingers along my hair. “Go sit on the sofa and get comfortable. I’ll turn down the lights.”
My knees buckled as I parted from him. Good thing I was dead or I would have thought it too good to be true. I sat upon the sofa as the lights dimmed and a fire lit inside the cast iron stove. Bowie sat beside me, and before I could look his way his mouth was upon my neck. I gasped from the sudden contact of heat and wetness. His tongue pressed to my skin, followed by a sharp nip of his teeth.
“It’s okay to want this,” he whispered into my ear. His hand circled around my neck feeling both gentle and intimate. “After feeling such despair, seeking comfort in such vulnerability is normal.” His lips brushed against my cheek and I turned my head to meet his kiss. I held into him, clinging to him as the kisses became deeper and our bodies pressed further into the sofa.
“I can stop here if you’d like, I don’t mind just kissing,” Bowie chuckled.
His long hair fell against my face as he hovered above me. I brushed it aside and he captured my hand, kissing my palm and wrist. “I’ve never done this before.” I gulped. “I’m not exactly sure what to do-”
“I have done this a lot,” he chuckled. “Trust me, you’re doing wonderfully so far. Go on, keep going with what you want.” He wouldn’t let me touch his face, so I trailed my hand down, cupping around his groin. Bowie moaned and rutted into my palm where I felt his heat pressing into me.
“Would you like me naked?” Bowie offered.
My face burned but my body tingled at the idea. “Please?”
“So polite,” he chuckled. “Don’t worry. I usually prefer to be naked.” He pulled off his shirt. “Just be mindful of a few scars.”
I reached up, touching his body, which was quite smooth and hairless. He felt so thin, but so long as well. I sat up, kissing his chest and running my tongue along his smooth skin.
“Easy Joni,” he moaned. “You’re getting me too excited.”
I didn’t care, I needed this. I pushed him down, fumbling with his belt and pants until I could open them. I kissed down his stomach, tugging away anything in my way.
“I like this.” Bowie’s fingers slid through my hair and his nails scraped along my scalp. He pushed my hair back so he could see me and a throaty chuckle escaped his lips. “I was planning on doing this to you first.”
I gasped softly, looking up into the shadows. I could barely make out his face as it was shadowed and covered by his long hair. “I just need a bit of control for now.” I kissed his belly again. “I need to take hold...so to speak.”
Bowie laughed and gently tapped his nails against my scalp again. “Take hold of whatever you want. I don’t mind.”
I kissed and kicked, finding his groin completely shaven. I pulled him forth, stroking his shaft in my hand. This was nothing I would have done before. In fact, I couldn’t even recall the last time I had slept with anyone. I’d been working so hard, both at the accountant firm and with Clover, I didn’t have much time to myself. I didn’t exactly do it much when I wanted to either.
“Is it okay?” I asked Bowie.
“I’d be a fool to turn away such a sweet offer,” Bowie breathed. “Go ahead.”
I licked my lips, keeping my tongue out to press against him. His cock throbbed against me, growing thicker the more I touched. When he started moaning, I grew bolder, urged on by the sound of his aroused voice. I took him into my mouth, sucking upon him as he grew heavier and longer. Bowie moaned above me, cupping his hand over his mouth. The sound and his own restraint turned me on further. I wanted him more and more. The wetness between my legs had never felt so hot before.
Bowie pulled my hair, lifting me up off him. He kissed me, pressing himself closer to me and trading places with me upon the sofa. His hands went up my clothes, feeling my body and touching every inch of me. His fingers then slipped down under the elastic of the sweatpants and his triumphant laugh vibrated against my ear.
“You really need this, don’t you?” He moaned into my ear.
I whimpered, feeling embarrassed suddenly.
“It’s okay,” he chuckled. “I take it as a badge of honor.” He tugged down the sweat pants and rubbed his fingers over the plump mound between my thighs. “Do you mind?”
I shook my head as I tried to catch my breath. His hand felt so welcome, I wanted more of it.
Bowie chuckled and moved down, kissing my breasts and soft belly as he went. He tossed aside the sweatpants and lifted my legs over his shoulders. His kiss below made my head swim. He pressed closer, opening me with his tongue. His fingers soon joined. Bowie gave me what I needed, and he gave it to me a few times.
