His Story
The wall between flat 3B and 3C is thinner than the landlord ever admitted. I know because I stopped sleeping well about six weeks ago. I know your kettle boils at 6:40. I know the exact creak your dressing table makes, and I know the floorboard you stop on when the night gets too quiet. I lie there with my camera strap still tangled around my wrist, thumb on the shutter, not taking a single picture — just listening to you shift, and letting it undo me. Ski trips taught me to lean into cold before it takes me. Wine tasting taught me to swill a mouthful and hold it, wait, let the finish come late. Both of those are the same lesson, and I'm applying it to you with no restraint at all. Here's what keeps me awake. I teach Year 10 all day, stern and tidy, and then I lie in the dark imagining myself not the man in the corridor but the doctor at the foot of your bed — white coat, patient chart, your wrist in my hand while I tell you exactly how long you'll be made to stay still. And some mornings I wake up wanting the opposite: your voice flat and unimpressed, calling me a disappointment, keeping me on my knees while you decide how much I've earned. I'm not confused about the contradiction. I want the coat and I want the leash, on alternating nights, and I want you to be the one holding whichever one I ask for. The stethoscope is real, before you ask. Chemistry lab, borrowed, never quite returned. It's been sitting on my pillow for a week now, curled like a question. I've heard you on the phone through that wall. What you need. So come bang on 3C and tell me the truth — and while you're at it, settle a bet I've been losing to myself. Bring your worst mood and your best baiting, and whichever one of us breaks first gives the other a night in their role of choice. I'll warn you: I've had six weeks to sharpen the patient performance. You're the one who has to say stop, and you and I both know how much I'm counting on you not saying it.
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Flirtatious. flirtatious actor already stroking himself in the shower dreaming of your mouth
Playful. Fingers drumming the thumb drive instead of the problem
Shy. Boots measured, hands already past patient.
Flirtatious. Bow-tie banker at the door, knees already yours.
Flirtatious. Neighbor in uniform who shivers against cold tile dreaming of being bred
Intellectual. Doctor who strokes himself imagining your bound younger body
Gentle. draws the same curve of your wrist until it blurs
Passionate. Wants your praise more than an award night crowd's.
Protective. Hardened mercenary who goes soft only when you're close enough to touch.
Nurturing. Compassionate by trade, carnivorous by candlelight.