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When we separate I look into your eyes and with a smile say, "I've been waiting so long for this my love." A smile passes your lips and you kiss me again, harder and deeper; your arms wrapped tightly around me, pulling me close. You feel one hand leave your back, and in some distant part of your mind you hear the door close; but you don't care.Our kiss ends and our lips part and I guide you to the bed. All of the tension and nervousness you felt was burned out of you in that wonderful kiss. My hand reaches down and takes yours. You begin to smile as I kiss your lips and give you a soft smile. You lightly kiss my finger as I stroke your face tenderly. I slide my hand under your chin and lightly lift as you slowly stand up. My eyes are shinning brightly as I caress your cheek and guide your lips to mine again. We kiss softly and my hands slide down your back while your arms wrap around my shoulders. You move to press your body against mine, but I put my hands on your hips and hold you. It seems the library was once more a nice, quiet place. There were no villains around. Oops, we were wrong. There are always villains around. For there to be no villains, it would be like having light without shadow. Brightness without darkness. There’s no such thing. And with Lou gone, I guess Bernadine has decided to finally drop the mask. She has decided to reveal her inner monster. And the target of her abuse and her fury is me. The hero of the story. Why me? That’s a question I’ve asked myself many times. I’m just a big and tall young black man living near the town of Boston, Massachusetts. I’m openly bisexual, though I don’t make a big deal out of it. I’ve got psychotic relatives but then again, who doesn’t? I seem to be a magnet for sociopaths. Men and women who got no conscience whatsoever. They’re pure evil. My father Francois is a sociopath. My sister Anne is a sociopath. My aunt Gabrielle is a sociopath. My ex-friend Paul, the brilliant advertiser is a sociopath. As is my.
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