Truth and Dare

~Nariya Patel~

My light steps carry me back and forth through the halls of the employee restroom, awaiting Rose's shift to end. Le'gard, the line cook, sits in a corner, clearly uncomfortable with my rhythmic pacing. Yet, it's evident from my demeanor that I'm not interested in anyone's well wishes except those of my friends. After what feels like hours but is only ten minutes, Rosella hurries into the room and swiftly changes out of her uniform. I grasp her arm as soon as she emerges, guiding her through the doors and into a private booth, empty of customers at the moment.

A sigh escaped the girl's lips as she settled in, taking a moment or two to steady her thudding heartbeat. "Alright, what's got you so worked up now? I thought Mr. Bodyguard proposed, so you should be over the moon..." She paused, noticing the prickled ache on my face, and chose her words more carefully.

I shook my head, memories flooding back like an overflowing dam as I recounted the events of the past few days to her.

"Well, at first, that's what I thought too. That ring—it felt like all the lonely days of my life were finally behind me. But he made it clear from the start as he took my hands in his, his words so precise, spoken in a soft, deliberate pace, ensuring every word resonated perfectly and succinctly."

"Nari," he spoke softly, "I need you to understand that this is not an engagement ring, but a promise ring for the future. You, I am sorry to say this, despite everything you've been through, have a whole lot of living ahead of you. Now, I know what you might say, but I want you to live your life, normally, and with me, I don't think that would be a possibility."

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts and straightening out his speech before continuing.

"At least until you're twenty-five, I think that's the age when the brain reaches its full maturity," he chuckled lightly, attempting to ease the tension.

Glancing at Rosella, who was lost in thought as she quietly sipped her coffee, I could sense the maturity shining through her cheerful facade. I knew whatever she was about to say would be genuine advice, akin to what an older sister would give her younger sibling.

After delicately dabbing her lips with a tissue, she began, "Listen, Nari. I think in some sense he's correct. I can tell, even though you keep it pretty close to the chest, that you exude a sense of maturity that often comes from experiencing hardships at a young age. However, I also believe your Mr. Bodyguard is simply looking out for you. You need to consider his perspective too. He not only fell in love with someone he's meant to protect but there's also a significant age gap. And while age is just a number, it's important that both parties are mature, understanding, and consenting. So, I think you should take things slow, one step at a time."

She took another sip of her coffee, allowing me to absorb all that had been said before continuing, "However, I also sense a hint of his own insecurity surfacing. It might just be a hunch, but whenever I've seen him with you, there's a peculiar hesitation. It's as if he's afraid of hurting you, blaming himself somehow. So, if you want my advice, I'd suggest slowly reassuring him, helping him understand that you want to be his romantic partner, not a fragile doll."

Lost in my thoughts, I stared down at my drink until a slice of strawberry shortcake suddenly appeared in front of me, snapping me out of my reverie. Startled, I looked up to see Le'gard standing there, muttering something about me looking troubled before hurrying off. Rosella couldn't help but let out a mischievous laugh, shaking her head at his antics.

Once my thoughts had settled, aided by the sugar rush from the cake, I guided Rosella back to the seriousness of our discussion.

"So, well, this happened a few days later, and truth be told, I had noticed it since he gave me the ring. But I really started noticing this air of distance from him. I mean, not emotional distance, more like physical distance. For example, we were in the kitchen, he was washing dishes and I was helping clear the table. When I went to the sink to put away the dishes, my hand accidentally brushed against him, and he flinched like an electric current had passed through his veins. And then, although he tried to make it seem subtle, he slightly moved away from me."

"Hmm, I guess that confirms the insecurity," Rosella replied thoughtfully. "However, I think now that your relationship has developed to this point, rather than speculating, it would be better if you ask him yourself."

Rosella's words struck a chord. The foundation of a relationship is built on trust and understanding, and tonight, I resolved to ask Alexie directly. With that thought in mind, I awaited Alexie's arrival. We had a peaceful dinner, and as we finished packing up, ready to turn in for the night, I took the initiative:

"Alexie, would you like to play a game afterwards?"

He raised his brows in confusion, clearly thrown off guard by my unusual request. Normally, after dinner, we both would retire to our own rooms, with me preferring to spend some quiet time reading before bed. So, I understood why my suggestion might seem odd to him. However, before I could come up with an elaborate excuse to justify my request, he nodded and said, "Sure, why not? What would you like to play? We don't have many board games..." His gaze drifted towards the far side bookshelf near the foyer, where some decorative pieces and board games were kept.

Shaking my head, I replied, "No, I don't want to play any board games... um... How about truth or dare?"

He furrowed his brows in confusion, but my excited expression seemed to convince him nonetheless. We settled comfortably in the foyer, facing each other with Nyx on my lap, once all the cleanup was done. I could sense Alexie's perplexity, but I knew I needed to engage him enough to get the answers I wanted.

"Alright," I started, clapping my hands together, "So the rules are simple. I'll ask you truth or dare, and depending on what you choose, you need to do what the other player prompts you to, okay? So, you ask first."

"Yes, sure," Alexie relaxed his head on the back of the sofa, settling into a comfortable position. "Truth or dare, Moonpie?"

Excitedly, I almost pounced, "Dare!"

"Hmm," he shifted into deep thought before saying, "Okay, I dare you to bring me a beer can."

My excitement waned slightly at his request, and I murmured, "Alex, you need to give a thrilling dare, or else the game won't be fun!"

His genuine laugh filled the room as he shook his head, "Well, you can teach me in your turn, but right now I am really thirsty."

"Fine," I pouted before stomping my way to the kitchen to grab that beer can for him. Once we were settled, it was my turn, and I had no intention of keeping this game PG-13.

"Truth or dare?" I asked.

He looked up from his drink, gulping slightly before replying, "Dare."

"Hmm... feed me," I stuttered in embarrassment, "feed me what you are having using your li... li... lips."

No matter how hard I tried to maintain my calm demeanor, my body surged with heat, flushing from head to toe. Glancing from under my brows at Alex, I saw him quick to startle with my sudden request. As he slowly lowered the can from his lips, the mirth in his eyes flashed for just a second into a predatory glance before morphing into a playful smile.

At first, my heart raced, fearing he would refuse. After all, since he had given me the ring, not once had he touched me, let alone kissed me. Yet, a part of me craved his touch, and I couldn't help but breathe heavily with anticipation as I saw him inching closer, that same smile playing on his lips.

"Sure," he said, and in a sudden, swift motion, he snatched my arm, pulling me closer to him, his fingers firmly snaking around my waist. I closed my eyes in anticipation, the beetroot flush of embarrassment cradling my heart in erratic beats. Slowly, I felt him draw nearer until I sensed the coldness brushing against my skin. Opening my eyes in a frenzy, I was startled to find the lip of the can being pressed against my own lips.

I pushed back, bewildered. "Wait, what?"

"There," he laughed, "you said you wanted to drink, right?"

"I... I also said from your lips!"

He raised his brows in the most innocent fashion. "But this is the lip of the can, isn't it?"

"What? That's cheating, Alexie!"

But he was having none of it, only shrugging his shoulders. "Well, if you say so, I guess we should stop playing."

Flustered, I glared at the man who was in utter amusement as our playful tantrum continued for a couple more rounds. When I asked him to massage my legs, teasing him with the supple skin of my bare legs, that clever trickster wore gloves to do so. When I urged him to blindfold me and feed me something from the fridge, he did exactly that, feeding me mini cookies. And when I dared him to whisper something naughty in my ear, he came close, his hot breath tingling against my skin, only to whisper "naughty" into my earlobe.

Next, I attempted to dare him to choose something from my closet that he'd like to see me wear, but he simply picked a hoodie.

I was flustered, huffing and out of breath at this point. It felt as if I had just run a marathon, despite the fact that it had only been forty-five minutes. And there he sat in an air of indifference, acting completely oblivious to the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my head. While my dares were aimed at encouraging him to embrace a more romantic mood, his were straightforward tasks like fetching another drink, feeding Nyx, cleaning her litter, mopping the kitchen island, and so on.

Neither of us had yet chosen truth, and while he frustrated me with his responses to the dares I gave him, I, in the frenzy of anger, kept choosing dares in an attempt to make him initiate the first step.

Almost at the verge of tears, my voice came out shaky when I said, "Truth or dare."

He slumped leisurely, his head supported on his hand, shifting a bit, clearly concerned about my state. Slowly, after some consideration, he replied, "Dare."

"Kiss me," my voice small in the room, seemed to hang not as a game, but as a command. Again, I repeated, now in a more authoritative tone, my eyes glittering with determination, "Kiss me on my lips, like it was your last kiss on this earth!"

Instantly, he was on me, his lips covering mine in a rough momentum. The sudden rush of things caused my brain to freeze. "You little minx," he whispered between the kisses.

Unsure of what to do next, I let him take the lead, surrendering to his desires. His hands, I noticed between his kisses, roamed over me, exploring every inch of my upper body. They shifted through my clothes, covering me with a possessive urgency. First, they grasped at my stomach, then they moved to my back, massaging my shoulders, before returning to the front. Suddenly, without warning, he tore the tiny cardigan shirt dress I wore, buttons flying in all directions.

"I grasped, 'Alexie,'" I moaned between the kisses, but it seemed he took this as his cue to deepen the intensity, sliding his tongue inside my mouth. My brain was a mush at this point, unable to comprehend anything but craving more and more of the drug called Alexie Ivanov.

His weight pressed against my body, causing me to naturally recline on my back, and my hands found their place, traveling from his hair to the back of his neck. As his fingers played with the erect buds of my breasts, a shiver of anticipation ran through me, involuntarily eliciting a moan from my lips. My hips instinctively pulled him deeper against me. That's when I felt it—the hardness of his erect muscles pressing against me, igniting a primal urge within me to let go of any semblance of self-control I had left.

Suddenly, Alexie jerked as if awakened from a daze. He pushed himself off of me, his eyes widening in self-reproach. His breathing was sharp, and in a frenzy, he untangled my legs from around his waist, pushing away from me and rushing out of the room.

A sudden fear crept into my heart, a pang from deep-seated fears that I had long forgotten. I hurriedly rushed behind him, hugging his back. I didn't care about my state, my body shivering with cold, my brain preoccupied with the same repeated thoughts: 'Oh, how much he must hate me to break his self-resolve.'

"Alexie, I'm sorry," I stammered, my voice thick with tears. "Please don't hate me... please don't leave me..."

He turned around in an instant, his warmth enveloping my shivering self as he spoke softly, "Moonpie..." He wiped my moist eyes gently as he kissed my forehead lovingly.

"I don't understand," I hammered out my words in a non-coherent form, just pushing out what had been weighing on me, "You said you loved me, then why don't you touch me? Don't tell me," anger shot out, "that your proposal was just a lie!"

"Baby," he whispered into my hair, "if I had lied to you, I would've had you in my bed, wrecked you day and night."

I flushed at this vulgar interpretation, but somehow that animalistic side of Alexie and that description was somewhat what I had just experienced.

He sighed, his hoarse voice back to its normal octave. "And that's what I'm afraid of..." He pulled himself back a bit and looked into my eyes. "I don't want to hurt you... I don't want to do something that later on you might regret."

His last words struck me, somehow emphasizing his own self-worth diminished in a sentence.

I cradled his face with my palm. "Alexie, you won't hurt me."

"No," he moved back, almost reproaching himself. "I can't... tarnish..." He sighed. "I won't touch you until we are married!" he said finally, with firm determination.

His sudden rise in tone sent a pang of anger through my body, and I screamed back, "Fine, but just know that what you're doing, self-celibating yourself, it seems more like an act of self-hatred than protection. It's as if you question the simple fact that someone like you could never find love with me!" With that, I stomped to my room without even looking back at him.

That night, as I sat gazing solemnly into the depths of the moon, I determined something. In a few days, on the trip, I would make that man realize that he couldn't live without me. Call it selfish, call it mean-spirited, but I was determined. "If he won't touch me, I will make him regret that decision."