Alone is a dangerous word. Many people fear it if they know it or not. I was one of those people, even though I stated otherwise. I had no idea that I feared that word so much because I lived with it everyday and thought that I was perfectly fine with the fact.
The University I went to was vast like every other University in this country or the world. Each one of those schools has a small handful of people that I would like to call wallflowers. They are real people with extraordinary personalities with the ability to blend into the scenery and disappear. I'm one of those people. My interests are many and varied, but no one cares enough to learn this fact about me. The simple truth is that wallflowers are able to blend into scenery so well is because they don't crave attention. All they simply crave is a few true friends and ultimately someone to love deeply who loves them with the same intensity.
This description fits you? It fits me perfectly. Everyday I walked around my University, looking at the groups of people and especially watching the person at the center of it all making of fool of themselves or of other people just to gain the acceptance of the shallow people watching them. Those are the people that most wallflowers wish to be like. Not because they make a fool of themselves or get the attention of shallow people, but because they most likely have a significant other by their sides at the center of the group. Sure they're probably with them only because they get noticed just for being on the arm of the popular performer, but you know that the person at the center of the group with that significant other isn't lonely.
For everyday of my life, I walked around virtually invisible, watching these people from afar, wishing and praying that one day one person would notice me, and then suddenly, I got my wish. One sunny day I was sitting under my favorite tree on the well-manicured lawn, eating my lunch and reading a book. Over the years, books have given me comfort when I have lacked human companionship. As you can imagine, I'm well read. My spot was near a walkway that received a fair amount of traffic for the lunch hour. It was like I had a silent bargain with those people who walked by. They would ignore me and I would just keep reading my book.
This day was just like any other day, accept that I noticed, just under the edge of my raised book that pair of feet was turned towards me and they weren't moving. Puzzled by this phenomenon, I slowly lowered my book. I was stunned at the vision before me and as I noticed by the females passing by the vision, they noticed him too. He was tall, even taller then me and I stood at a high five foot eleven, his eyes were a breath taking shade of dark blue, and his hair was clean cut pitch black. After I took in these exotic features (I looked for a while so I can recall every feature when I daydream), my eyes slowly began to travel down.
As you can imagine, his body reflected his exotic face. The blue t-shirt he wore seemed to hug ever groove of his chiseled form. God! The man was buff, but he wasn't bursting out of his shirt buff. I would say that he was just right. My eyes dared not travel down farther without turning my face reader then the rosy shade it was now. Realizing that I had stared long enough, I raised my book back up and tried to continue with the paragraph that I left off at.
It was difficult for me and I had to read the paragraph five times because those feet were still there. Finally I gave up reading and just looked under the edge of my book, staring at his loafers. What will he do? Why is he just standing there looking at me? I thought wildly to myself. Then after these two important thoughts repeated themselves at least a hundred times in my mind, the loafers finally moved. Not away as I expected they would, but to me.
He had pushed down my book and I was forced took look him in the face. It was either that or looking at his crotch. The kindest smile I had ever seen grew on his face.
"What's your name?" He gently whispered to me. That one little soft line seemed to create a world around us that only we existed in. In this world, time stood still, and the animals held their breath in utter shock that this living male work of art would ask me what my name was.
It took a while, but I found what little breath I had left in my lungs and sighed, "Amelia."
His smile stayed and he nodded his head as if to say, "that sounds right". Then he stood up and walked off. My heart was beating in my chance and I shot up like a comet and ran after him, forgetting my poor abused book and my picnic lunch. My hand shot out before I could thing better of it and I snagged his finely corded arm. In a flash, he turned around and shock registered in his eyes for just a second before it was replaced with a type of shinning happiness.
My mouth opened a closed a few times before I squeaked out, "You're name?"
His smile widened and he put his hand over my restraining one. With great care he placed it over his heart and leaned into me until our faces were only inches apart. "Brandon."
The name shivered through me like so many hands caressing me. As I was in the daze of that one simple word, he released me and walked away. The world slowly came back to normal, the animals resumed their play, and time went on running, and my heart speed up faster. For a few short minutes, someone paid attention to me, and it wasn't just anyone, it was a God that shinned a spotlight on me.
The days following that day were drastically changed from the mind numbing routine that I use to have. My luxury reading books were left in my little apartment because every second I was not in class was spent looking for Brandon. A whole week had gone by with me checking every face that I could see, but it was like he vanished just as fast as he appeared. I tried the easier way by looking him up on the online student directory, but there were well over two hundred Brandons at my school. Until then, I never realized what a popular name that was. At the end of the second week, with still no sign of him, I was starting to get frustrated and angry.
It was so hurtfully obvious! He was just playing with me! No guy would ever notice me. I had short brown hair, when most men would favor longer hair. My body wasn't fat but not abnormally skinny as other girls tried to keep themselves, and my height was too tall for any man to favor me even if I had long hair and was a skeleton. The only features I had going for me were my eyes. They were a dazzling blue/gray with a talent of changing color with intense emotions. Unfortunately, most men didn't bother looking at my eyes; those features weren't exactly on their important list of attractive body parts.
Brandon most likely acted on a bet to his friends, or some crackpot practical joke him and his friends' thought was funny. He could have even been doing it to get back at his girlfriend. As my thoughts had a habit of doing, they kept repeating themselves over and over again. It was my entire fault though; I let myself get obsessed with a cute boy that asked me for my name.
I couldn't just drop and pick up where I left off. There was a dance coming up which was the favored dance to go too. Almost everyone showed up to it and I figured that it would be my last chance and if I didn't see him then I would go on.
The night of the dance came in a hurry. I made my dream dress, which amazed me at how fast I put it together. It was one of those long and flowing numbers that needed many petticoats to help it billow out. The bodice hugged my upper body as if it was a second skin and it showed just enough cleavage to modestly tantalize. I left it plain because the fabric I picked out for it was a glistening dark blue, there seemed to be sparkles imbedded into the fabric so that it looked as if I were wearing the night sky. With my hair and make-up done up perfectly, I didn't look like myself at all, I looked like a one of the heroines in my romance novels that take place in 1800's England.
When I entered the ballroom, I was taken back by the bright gaudiness of it all. The main colors were shades of bright plumb purple and gold, and the theme of the dance was a very predictable "Arabian Nights". There were lumps of sand everywhere with miniatures of different desert encampments, which were blocked off by fences that went to mid thigh on a normal person. How very interesting. I thought to myself as I edged along the wall, trying to not bump into people. Every few feet I would stop and make an inspection of a bunch of faces and check to see if Brandon was among them.
I was just starting to give up, when I came to another group of faces that I hadn't looked at. First I checked the people on the outside of the group, and then worked my way in. When I didn't see him, I was about to turn when the group parted and exactly in the middle of the group was the very person I was looking for. My breath was suspended in my body and my eyes grew wide. What was so bad was the fact that this man was the exact person I had always dreamed of being, and what was worse is that every one of my suspicions seemed to be true.
A jumble of emotions were going through my head and as I was trying to make up my mind if I was going to make a spectacle of myself and slap him or run away. I had taken a step forward when he spotted me through the gap and his eyes widened. People were curious when he stopped talking and all looked in the direction that held his rapped attention.
I was panicked when I started to see the looks of disapproval. Being invisible was one thing, being actually seen by these people was one thing I couldn't handle and the fear in me grew.
"Look at that dress. Must be second hand or something, because that's not the latest style." One girl mumbled to another. My hands went to my beautiful work of art that I spent nearly all my time in the past two weeks to sew.
"Her hair! Just look at the shortness of it and that wavy style really doesn't become it at all." Said another girl as she was covering her mouth to hold in a giggle. While keeping one hand on my dress, I raised my other to my hair. I had thought it was perfect; for once it stayed where I wanted it.
"Don't even get me started on her make-up!" Twittered the insulting girl I could take.
I turned towards the exit doors and actually ran to them, it was easy to do in flats. As I was running down the hall as fast as my dress could allow, I heard footsteps behind me and tried to speed up just a bit but it didn't work. I was grabbed from behind and held trapped against a firm body.
"You came! I can't believe it and you're more beautiful then the first time I ever saw you!" It was Brandon. He was hugging me so tightly like he was afraid that I was going to run again.
"What lie." I choked out. "I heard your friends. You didn't stop them from commenting on my shabby dress or my hair and make-up."
He nuzzled my neck and gave me a little squeeze. "Who cares what those mindless followers think. They can't see real beauty when it's right there in front of them."
"Why me? Why on earth are you interested in me?"
"Because you're real. You're not fake like those others that hang around me. I could spot that the very first day I spotted you. It was at the beginning of last semester, when I was walking from an office of an instructor. You were sitting there underneath that out of the way tree just reading a book. People walked right by you as if they couldn't see you, but to me you shone as brightly as ever and you captivated me."
His words were too good to be true. So I chose to not believe him one more time. "No, this is still a game. You're popular, you could have any other girl prettier then I could ever be."
Brandon turned me around, but still held me close to him. "I never asked to be popular. The only reason why I am is because of the way I look. Those others don't want me for who I really am, they want me for what I look like and the status being with me can give them. A relationship like that is a shallow lonely one. I'd never lie to you, they are good for a few good romps in the sheets, but in the end that's all it amounts too."
I was held speechless by what he said. My heart beat fast and it seemed like I was hyperventilating with the very hope that he was telling me the truth. His nearness was messing up my train of thought and I slowly became aware of his body and his body's reaction to my own. When I pushed away from him, I was met with some resistance, but I was able to move out of his arms.
"I need to think about this. It's all so unreal to me." I stated as I was backing up from him.
He looked at me longingly, "There's nothing to really think about. I could tell the few weeks ago when we talked that you liked me. Please say you'll be with me. I have to be with you, I ache for you and only you can take it away."
It was too much so fast and so unbelievable that I did the only thing that I could think of and I ran again. Sure he could catch me if he wanted too, but this time he let me go. When I got home, I carefully took off my dress and took a shower to wash my hair and take off the make-up. I put on my sweats and a t-shirt, my normal sleepwear, and went into the living room to lose myself in one of my favorite fantasy movies.
Unfortunately my movie didn't help and I was more interested in every aspect of Brandon and the things he told me tonight. My body grew warm at the thought of him needing me in that way. In no way am I a virgin, but I've never experienced an orgasm. The few men that I've been to bed with have never taken me to the stars. You can imagine what it's like for a virgin to give a performance of an orgasm, when she's only ever read about them.
I had a feeling that Brandon would be different though. He looked like a man who knew how to give just as well as he received. An over whelming urge to go out and search for him over came me, and I felt uncomfortable in my clothes. I was about to cry at the frustration of it all, when there was a firm nock on my door. The clock confirmed that it was one in the morning and I wondered who would be at my place at this late hour. Not really wanting to see anyone but Brandon, I walked to the door and checked through the peephole. I had to blink my eyes a bit and looked again because it seemed that my hopeless wishing and daydreaming had me seeing things. When I looked back, the vision hadn't changed and Brandon was still standing on the other side of the door looking worried and a bit put out the longer I had him waiting.
With a shaky hand, I undid the locks on my door and slowly opened it. He looked amazed and then determined. With a confident stride, he pushed me back into my apartment and then closed and locked my door. As he was turning back to me, he was unbuttoning his crumpled dress shirt and slipping it off his shoulders.
I swallowed a bit uneasily. "What are you doing?" I barely whispered.
"I've waited for nearly a year for you. It took me months just to get up the nerve to ask your name. All that time I was watching you from a distance and following you and learning about you. I've needed you physically since the moment I've spotted you and found myself in a state of permanent arousal. Do you know that I've had other women pretending it was you, but it just wasn't the same? Now you've turned up at the dance looking for me, feeling the same need that I do and you think to turn me away and ignore it? No, I won't let you, I'll make love to you until you scream that you want to be with me, that you want the pleasure that only I can give you!"
With that, his hands went to his pants and started to undo them. My hands shot out stilling his progress as I tried to sort out everything that he said. I looked into his eyes trying to find words, but failing. Just then, when he saw that I was somewhat regaining my wits, he kissed me. It was not a peck on the mouth like I was use to by other men, but a full blown out kiss.
He probed my mouth with his tongue and coaxed my response. Like a bolt of lightening, it hit me. Why not just let go and let him make love to me? Why not just take the chance that he's telling the truth? Why not?
My hands went to take off my shirt while his went to finish taking off his pants. Our lips were still attached and we were lost. He wore no underwear under his dress pants and his tall man hood stood out away from him. My possessed hands went for it, stroking it and loving the velvet feeling over hard steel.
God, yes! Cried a voice within me. This was the feeling that I've been craving for, this sense of being completed by another, of being loved and cherished for only who I am and not what I can pretend to be. A tear slipped out of my eye for the sheer joy of it all, and Brandon stilled his progress with my sweat pants and the kiss to look at it with concern.
He looked so stricken. "Am I scaring you? I'm so sorry!" His hands came up to my cheeks and he gently rubbed away the single tear. I smiled so very brightly at him and stated, "You make me happy at this very moment. You've given me the world."
Just then, he renewed the vigor of the kiss and his gusto with my sweat pants. By the time he was done, we were both very naked and our hands were everywhere. My hands were exploring his rippling abs while his hands were discovering the wonder of my ripe breasts.
I broke the kiss, took his hands, and led him to my little bedroom. He followed me with eagerness and laid me down. I ran my hands through his onyx black hair, while he was busy kissing my breasts. His hands stroked lower to where I really wanted to be touched. It seemed as if he was reading my mind when he put his finger in me, my lower body rose up from the bed in pleasure.
Brandon's beautiful mouth returned to my neck where he lightly bit me. A tidal wave of pleasure swept through me and left me shaking. I needed him at that exact moment.
"Please" was the only word I could get out. I was begging him to be with me, to take away all the time I spent with only books instead of human companionship, to complete my life. He seemed to understand me because he climbed on top of me and urged me to open my legs. I could feel him there at the opening to me, gently testing me out.
"You're so tight, are you a virgin?" He asked with concern.
"No," I whispered, "It's just been a while for me."
He gently inched his way into me, "A very long time." With one big thrust, he entered me fully. My breath hitched a bit and I held onto him tighter. A rush of feeling had gone through me as he pushed his way in. I couldn't have described the intense connection I now had with him. Apparently he felt it too because as we laid there, his surprised stair bore deep into my eyes to see if I felt the same way.
A few second later he started to move and my Universe exploded into a million pieces. As I was catching my breath, I marveled that I had just had my first orgasm. With renewed energy, I kissed him with everything in me and started to move with him. Our lovemaking was so wild that we shook the bed and probably my tiny apartment as well. A scream was torn from me as I spiraled out again and this time, he gave his shout signaling that he went with me. In an exhausted heap, we collapsed to the bed with a symphony of groans, moans, and ragged breathing. He pulled me closer and we both passed out.
That world shattering night was the start of our destined relationship. It gave me a chance to get to know him just as he knew me. I must admit that he was nothing like what I wanted, but yet I was terribly happy with them and the greatest thing was that I stayed happy. Brandon graduated from college before me, but he managed to get a well paying job that was still around campus, and I moved in with him while still finishing up my degree. My last semester, we got engaged much to the surprise of all his many friends which were still hanging around with him because he was lucky enough that forgiveness was in that year. The day after I graduated college with my degree, we were married in the very spot that I had claimed as my own during endless lunches with a book. It was very beautiful and terribly romantic.