Fifty Shades of Grey (Christian Greys POV)

THE FIRST SIGHT Chapter I

Just as I dismiss Claude Bastille, he turns on his heels at the door and grins Golf, this week, Grey, he says, rubbing in the fact that he can kick my butt in the golf course as well. Hes one of the best mixed martial arts instructors there is, and trains me very well as he should since I pay him well for his instructions. He kicks my butt on the matt often as expected though I give him a run for his money. He was an Olympic contender. Ive been working out with him every day in the last two months since I have to spend all my excess energy. Although he used to kick my butt five days a week before that. I reserved other kinds of work out for the weekends. If I could kick his butt to the floor once or twice a week, that would be the highlight of my day. Though I dont like the pace of golf, its the game of businessmen, I endeavor to do well in it, and as it happens, often business deals are reached at the golf courses. I scowl and look outside from my twentieth floor offices floor to ceiling windows. The weather is gray as my mood, unpalatable. I have everything under control, but it has been an ordinary existence for me lately. I havent had a diversion in the last two months. No exciting challenges and nothing has captured my interest. Everything is orderly, and all my affairs under control. The phone buzzes. Yes, Andrea? Mr. Grey, Miss Anastasia Steele for Miss Katherine Kavanagh is here. I hate surprises. I should not have agreed to give an interview to WSU magazine, but then Miss Kavanagh had been quite persistent, and she comes from a business family, whose father I can do business with in return of this favor. But someone else shows up in her place? Im petulant like a child to Andrea. I wasnt expecting a Miss Steele. I was expecting Katherine Kavanagh! Its Miss Steele who is here, sir,she says. I grumble, Fine! Send her in! Less than a minute later the door opens, and a tangle of chestnut brown hair, pale arms, a messenger bag, indistinctly dressed pale legs in brown boots roll into my office floor sprawled headlong. Although I hate clumsiness, courtesy demands that I go and help her up, and reach out and get her into upright position holding her slim shoulders. As she stands up, I meet the brightest blue, shy eyes capture mine as a jolt of electricity halt me in my tracks. She looks at

me, through me, as if to dig into my soul, unnerving me, as if shining a light to the depths of my being and pulling it to the surface. She blinks, blushing after noticing my face. I grimace, but quickly smile. Its always the same. Women react to my face that way, tongue tied. I extend my hand, deciding to have fun. Miss Kavanagh. Im Christian Grey. I hope youre alright. Would you like to sit? She blushes, her pearlesque skin changes color to her hairline blushing, bringing her gaze down, her ponytail nearly undone with the tumble she took, her voice stutters briefly as I receive her tiny hand in mine. I feel a jolt of electricity with her touch! Wow! She must feel the same way because she looks as if she got shocked and withdraws her hand with a slight gasp. Miss Kavanagh is indisposed. She sent me. She isnt well. I apologize for the change in the last minute Mr. Grey." Her voice sounds musical, her long lashes cast a shadow over her blue eyes which are downcast again in that shy manner. And you are? I coax the words out of her. Oh, Im Anastasia Steele. Im studying with Kate.. uhm Katherine, uhm.. Miss Kavanagh at WSU. She stutters and stumbles over her words. Im amused. Theres something about her. Shes a brunette too. As she casts her eyes down again, I can see shes nervous and extremely shy. She cant even meet my eyes, she just looks around, anywhere but me. I fix my gaze on her, already feeling a distaste of her indistinct A line skirt, shapeless blouse, and cheap boots. All of a sudden I imagine her in silk and satin; I dont even know where that thought came from. I cant imagine her to be a journalist with her demeanor. She doesnt have a single decisive, emphatic bone in her body. Shes too shy, too compliant, too forbearing too submissive. I take a sharp intake of breath. My mind is wondering, and before I can point her to a seat she gazes up at my painting, and looks at it admiringly. I feel compelled to explain. Local artist, I say,Trouton. I dont even know what made me explain that, I wouldnt ordinarily care. Lovely, she speaks slowly, raising the ordinary to extraordinary. I was surprised to hear those words out of her so simply and eloquently, as that was my exact thought on it when I purchased it in a way, she is extraordinary out of the ordinary. Yes I find myself saying while gazing at her intently. She flushes all over again, as my thought wonder how her derriere color would change with the bite of my twitchy palms. I dont know where that thought came from; I slightly shake my head, and see her making an attempt to set up her outdated mini-disk recorder on my very expensive coffee table all thumbs dropping it repeatedly. Though I find clumsiness irritating, I find hers to be endearing, and try to hide a smile behind my index finger.

What the fuck! How did I not notice those lips and shes biting her lower lip in her frustration trying to set that antiquated machine up! What I would love to do to that lip! I cant get my gaze off of it, and my mind is wondering in all directions going crazy! I just want to reach up and release that out of her bite and put it in my mouth! I close my eyes, and take a slow breath as she finally sets up her recorder, and I am chiding myself in my head for thinking like an adolescent boy as she mutters an apology for not being used to that recorder which I could care less; Im too engrossed watching her bottom lip. I tell her to take her time giving myself time to gather my errant thoughts. Once she sets her recorder up, Im disappointed by the questions shes asking. Theyre mundane, ordinary. Why am I spending my time to answer such questions? Shes flustering again noticing my distaste, and disappointment. After hearing my answer to her question she mumbled, You sound like a control freak. What the fuck? How right you are baby! If only you knew. I tell her looking at her intently Oh, exercise control in all things Miss Steele. I would love to subdue that smart mouth of yours right now! She blushes again biting her lip. She asks me a question about power; I can tell she finds me arrogant. I give her an answer which pops her mouth open. She then asks me of my interests outside of work to chill out. I tell her most of my interests except my two most favorite both of which would include her right now. In fact I am envisioning her tied up on my poster bed in my playroom. What the fuck! Where did that image come from? She asks me a few other questions which are public information. Didnt she even do her homework before she came over to interview me? Ridiculous! Then she opens her mouth and asks me the question even my family didnt dare to ask; what's in everyone's mind, but no one worded it before: Are you gay Mr. Grey? What the fuck? How dare she? I would now love to take you over my knees and beat the living shit out of you had you been mine with that question! I slightly change colors, but compose myself. I answer firmly: No Anastasia, Im not! She has the decency to look painfully embarrassed. She flusters. Im so sorry Mr. Grey. It uhm.. the question was written pointing to her notes, right here? Didnt you compile your own questions? She looks chagrined. No, Mr. Grey. Kate, uhm Miss Kavanagh did, she replies flushing.

That explains the questions. Tell me, how did you end up interviewing me if those are Miss Kavanaghs questions? Uhm I was drafted. Shes my roommate, and shes very ill. All of a sudden I feel much better.Well then, let me ask you some questions. Its only fair after your less than informal, more so personal questions. She flushes and flusters fidgeting in her seat. I look at her pointed, yeah, I like to get you squirming, and subdue you baby! There she goes again biting her lower lip. I just want to reach over and thug that chin so she stops doing it, or else I will fuck her over on my coffee table Calm down Grey, I tell myself. I ease myself back into my chair, and rub my lower lip with my index finger. She fidgets more. Ok, shes not a lesbian, and not immune to my charms. Andrea comes in after knocking the door. Mr. Grey, your next appointment is in two minutes. Cancel my next appointment Andrea!I say, and she freezes in her place. Sir? I said cancel it, turning my head to her gaping mouth, face getting red. Anastasia is getting ready to leave, and packing her things saying, I dont want to alter your schedule Mr. Grey. At least Andrea has the decency to finally realize my command, and says, yes sir. You dont have to leave right away Miss Steele. I can give you a tour if you like. Shes ready to bolt. Oh, you dont have to do that for me Mr. Grey, she mumbles. Miss Steele, what are your plans after graduation? I havent thought that far Mr. Grey. Just trying to get through my finals. I find myself offering her a job; Id never do that, you can apply for an internship here. What the hell is wrong with me, shes too young, and I have a policy to never fuck the staff. But shes not staff yet. She dismisses my offer. Whats wrong with my company? Why not? I ask her. Its obvious, isnt it? she asks as if its common knowledge, and takes her bag and stands up. Not to me! I rise up, and walk to the door smoothly, opening it for her. I dont want her to trip over her own feet on her way out, indicating my intention, and she grudgingly thanks me as I smile.

Both Andrea and the interns mouth agape as I walk Miss Steele out. I ask her if she had a jacket, and the intern rushes to get it for her. I grab it out of her hand, put it on Miss Steele. My hand is on her shoulder just a second too long and I feel the jolt of electricity again as I know she does as well. Goodbye Anastasia, I say. Goodbye Christian, she says as the door closes. I turn on my heels, and order Andrea: Get Welch on the line! A minute later hes on. Welch! I want you to do a background check for me. Yes sir. Name? Anastasia Steele. I need it ASAP. Yes sir. I hang up. Now I wait. And I dont do waiting. I have to give myself time to see if I still want her in a couple of days. She is too young, and looks too inexperienced, but how fun would it be to teach her. I hate waiting. A couple of days later I receive her detailed but nondescript background check. Shes 21 years old, works at a hardware store part time, has 4.0 GPA, but it says nothing about her past or present relationships. Even though few days passed since she had interviewed me, I cant get her off my mind. I have to find out. I dial my assistant. Andrea, book me a place in Portland, for tomorrow. Yes sir. I hate waiting, I dont do waiting! I am freaking right now, but I have to find out about her. Ive never pursued a woman before. Its a first. I dont even know her sexual orientation. She seemed to have responded my charms positively. What if shes not single? Fuck! The thought never occurred to me. Only one way to find out. If shes not, then Ill come back and forget about that idiotic venture. But right now, Im going out of my mind and itching to find out about her. I cant get her lip biting out of my mind without my inside twitching like a teenage boy. Tomorrow. Ill see her again tomorrow.

CHRISTIAN AND ANA THE SECOND MEETING CHAPTER II I find myself like an idiot teenage boy in front of the Claytons Hardware Store. Shes working today. I take a deep breath and locate her within thirty seconds. Shes at a register looking at a computer screen engrossed in her task while eating a bagel. Sometimes shes removing the crumb from the corner of her mouth with her tongue, sometimes with her index finger. All of a sudden I have the urge to go and suck that piece of bagel from her lip. She looks just as lovely as I remember her, in fact far better in her jeans and t-shirt. Far, far better... She looks up from her task to lock gazes with me her breath hitching. I smile. Im happy to see I can affect her the same way. That means shes not gay. Shes surprised as her blue eyes go wider. Miss Steele. Its a pleasant surprise to see you here. She gazes at my outfit; my sweater, hiking boots, and her eyes linger a little too long on my jeans. Im pleased. Mr. Grey, she manages to breathe. Questioning. I was in the area. I need to stock up on some items, I say by the way of explaining. Shes biting her lip again, flushing. Of course Mr. Grey, She stutters first, then putting on her employee smile she asks, What can I help you with? I need some cable ties, I say smiling. What I can do with those to you I think as my gaze darkens. She flushes all over again. She leads the way. She then helps me find masking tape, and rope. She asks me if Im redecorating. I smile my secret smile. No baby, I dont redecorate. I have people to do that. These are for other DIY projects which you probably never tried. But how fun it would be to teach you! She blushes under my gaze again. Shes just as affected by me as I am of her. I have to ask her something to keep her engaged. Have you worked here long? Though I already know the answer to my question. Four years, part time. She answers in the affirmative, her eyes are still cast down and shy. She shows me two different kinds of masking tape. I choose the wider one. Anything else Mr. Grey? she asks me in a breathy husky voice. Yes, shes definitely affected by my presence. I find myself replying in the same tone. When she later cuts the filament rope with the efficiency of a boy scout, I ask her if she ever was a girl scout gazing at her intently. She blushes again, and in that nervous action, she looks down at her hands and rings her fingers as if the squeeze out some water.No, Mr. Grey, she says, organized group activities arent my thing. Im not into that, she dares

a peak under her long lashes. Its frustrating trying to decipher her. I ask, What exactly is your thing Anastasia? I ask in a low voice. She gasps slightly at my question. I think I already know the answer. I bet its books. Books, she whispers, but her longing look says something else blushing. Dare I say Bronte and Jane Austen? What kind of books? I ask interested but knowing the answer. The British classics, the usual,she whispers. Im thinking shes all hearts and flowers. Is this for me? I dont do hearts and flowers. I rub my chin contemplating her response. But if it works, we just might have a lot of fun. I would love to try. She changes the subject going back to the employee mode. Is there anything else you need Mr. Grey? I need to get her engaged in talking to me. Shes beguiling me. I cant take my eyes off of her; everything she does, her lip biting, her squirming and wringing her fingers just making me want to reach out to her, tie those hands up, and capture that lip in mine, and teach that mouth some lessons. Then we hear her name called by a guy, ANA! Some preppy dressed guy coming to her knowingly. Is he her boyfriend? I get the chills all of a sudden, and almost have an urge to beat the crap out of that guy. Who the hell is he? She excuses herself, and goes to him. I narrow my eyes. Maybe I made a mistake by coming. He hugs her, and drapes his arm possessively over her, but she doesnt reciprocate. I gaze at him glacially. Maybe theyre not involved. She drags the f*cker with her back to where I stand. Mr. Grey, this is Paul. His brother owns this place. Ive known him for a long time; but I only rarely see him as he goes to Princeton studying Business Administration, looking at me expectantly.I slowly let out a sigh of relief. The f*cker is not the boyfriend, but the owners brother. While measure each other out, Anastasia adds, Paul, this is Christian Grey. It takes him a second to realize who I am, and I can see his reveries change into one of admiration and awe. Yes, f*cker, let go off her now, and skedaddle to the hole you crawled out of! He asks me if I need anything. Anastasia has been very accommodating,I say my eyes narrowing coolly dismissing him. He finally gets the point and leaves. I dont know why I feel this pang of jealousy. Im not familiar with this emotion, and it is an uneasy one. Why did I feel jealous, and proprietary towards her? Shes nothing to me. Yet I would like her to be something to me. Is there anything else I can help you find Mr. Grey? she says flustering. I ignore her question. Hows the article coming along Anastasia? I ask. She looks surprised raising her eyes to mine. I dont want to be dismissed, I want to engage her. Oh, Kate I mean, Miss Kavanagh, my roommate is writing it. She is devastated that she didnt get to interview you. She wishes she had some stills of you though.

That surprises me and gives me hope that perhaps I can find a way to see Anastasia again. She can see the gleam in my eyes. Really? I say, Perhaps tomorrow I can be available. Im staying here locally. I fish out my business card out of my wallet, and hand it to her our hands briefly touching with the same jolt of electricity making me gasp slightly darkening my eyes. I have the same effect on her. You need to call me before 10:00 a.m. Shes pleasantly surprised and she gives me the biggest smile brightening her already bright blue eyes to a new shine taking my breath away. She really has the most beautiful smile. Yes, we will. Kate would be so happy! she says excitedly. I pay for my purchases as she keeps her gaze down, and Im dying for her to look at me again. Why am I so much like a teenager, her touch moving my insides? She looks up at me again as I hand my Amex to her. Our gazes lock. When I am done, taking my purchases, I turn to her and tell her, Oh, Anastasia, Im glad it was you who interviewed me, and not your roommate. I want her to know Im interested, and I can feel her gasp and she reciprocates my feelings. She likes me. I leave the store with a renewed purpose. This will work. Taylor is waiting for me at the parking lot. Lets go, I say. He drives me to Heathman Hotel. I go to my suite, put my purchases on a chair. Busy myself with work, hoping she calls. If not, Ill leave tomorrow abandoning this pursuit. I hope she calls. I go to work out to spend my excess energy. Her shy smile is before my eyes. I work out for hours. I come back to my hotel room, and take a shower. Anastasia, and her lips are still on my mind. If she doesnt call, what other chance meeting can I arrange? My mind is working out backup plans. I dont lose when Im on a mission. Only if she wants it though. Shes too young for what I have in mind for her. She looks too inexperienced. Why wont she call? Damn it! I decide to answer some emails as my phone rings. I dont recognize the number. Who the hell is this? Im in a bad temper. I answer curtly: Grey. A shy, nervous and husky sound replies. Uhmm Mr. Grey? Its Anastasia Steele. My heart stutters for a second, and then the beat peaks up and I find myself answering with a husky but soft tone. Miss Steele. How nice to hear from you.I almost thought she wasnt going to call. Im relieved. I hear her breath hitch. I feel elated to have that effect on her. Im grinning like an idiot. I tell her that Im staying at Heathman in Portland and we decide to do the shoot at nine thirty in the morning. When she says Okay, well see you there, all breathy and excited, I feel my eyes darken and unable to wait until

tomorrow, I look forward to it, Miss Steele,I say with laced seduction. My subconscious says you are mine! The wait to next morning is laced with erotic dreams of Anastasia in silk stockings and handcuffs, her blue eyes expectant.Anastasia, I whisper, her name a prayer in my lips. Christian, she breathes, the voice of hers is enough to unman me. I wake up sweaty with her name on my lips. I put my arm over my eyes, then remove them uneasy staring at the ceiling. Could any other name have the same effect on me like Janet, or Mary, or Angie? I think not. Anastasia. The name is a caress on my lips, its magical, alive. Im drawn, bewitched, in her grasp. I get up and go to the gym again to work out to pass the time. After my workout, I take a long shower and put on my white shirt with an open collar, and my grey trademark flannel pants hanging low on my hips. I eat my breakfast quickly, and let my hair on its own volition, leaving it wet. She calls me letting me know that theyre occupying another suite in the hotel for the shoot. Taylor waits by the door. My gaze seeks her as soon as I enter the suite. There she stands in low rise jeans hugging her curves tightly with a white shirt showing her shape beautifully. I feel her breath hitch when her gaze captures mine, and she gives me a discreet once over. Miss Steele, we meet again, I say extending my hand to receive her small pale hand. With her touch I feel the same jolt of electricity palpate between us, and I know she feels it too, as her blinking increases rapidly. Shes blushing and her breathing gets erratic. She gathers her hand all too soon and introduces her roommate who is as I expected, no nonsense, sure of herself, domineering. Like me. The tenacious Miss Kavanagh. How do you do? I say, and thank my lucky stars in my head that it was Anastasia that came, and not her. Shes beautiful enough, but I wouldnt like her one bit. Anastasia then introduces the photographer saying, This is Jose Rodriguez, our photographer. She smiles at him lovingly and he back at her, possessive. I feel anger building inside me. Is this f*cker her boyfriend? Mr. Grey, the f*cker nods. Mr. Rodriguez, I say glacially. I sit and stand for the photo shoot all the while gazing and looking at Anastasia. I have to find out if one of these two f*ckers Ive met in the last two days is her boyfriend. They were both possessive of her. About thirty minutes later were done, and we say out niceties to each other with Kavanagh, and I turn to Anastasia asking, Will you walk with me, Miss Steele? Sure, she says anxious while the friend is suspicious and the f*cking photographer scowling. Boyfriend rings on my head. I have to find out. I dont do sharing. She has to be mine. I open the door and allow her out. Would you join me for coffee this morning? I keep the expectancy out of my gaze, but, I can feel her heartbeat increasing and her face going pink. Yes, baby,this is a date. (Glad you came - by The Wanted - linked here)

She tells me disappointed that she has to drive everyone home. Oh, I got you covered baby! TAYLOR! Please take Miss Kavanagh, the photographer, his assistant and their equipment to where they need to go. Then I turn to her and say, see, resolved. Oh, Taylor doesnt have to do that Mr. Grey. I can switch vehicles with Kate. She goes back into the suite; ensuing a small discussion with her friend, and comes back out. Ok, lets do coffee she says flushing scarlet red. Her color makes me smile like the Cheshire cat. We have small talk on the way to the elevators. I press the button to call the elevator. As the door opens, a couple who have been making out spring apart looking anywhere but each other. What is it with elevators? Anastasia is flushed and embarrassed. I keep my gaze on Anastasia, watching the lovely red color creep up her shy face again, while I maintain to keep my smile awaybarely. As the elevator dings reaching the first floor, I grab Anastasias hand, and walk out of the elevator. We hear the couple giggle behind us as I mutter what is it with the elevators? We cross the street to a coffee shop her hand in mine with the jolt of electricity a constant thrum between us. I let her choose a table and ask her what she would like. English breakfast tea, bag out. She says surprising me. So, no coffee. Apologetically she indicates that shes not keen on coffee. When I go to get the drinks and something to eat, I find her gazing at me surreptitiously, and occasionally biting her lips. When I come back to the table, she brings her gaze down to her knotted fingers flushing. I would love to find out what she is blushing about. Me, I hope. Penny for your thoughts? I say. She flushes even as red as the Chinese flag. God! What I would love to do to you to get out what you are thinking! I put the tray on the table she picked, and stretch my legs under the table sitting opposite to her to see her beautiful shy face better. I coax her: What are you thinking? Shes not giving anything away. This is my favorite kind of tea, I like it black and weak she says. I have to get to the point and put myself out of misery, because I cant bear it anymore. I see. I say, Is he your boyfriend, the photographer Jose Rodriguez? No, she gushes, hes just a good friend. More like family really. I see, I cut her, how about the boy from the store? I get to the point. No he isnt. I told you that yesterday, she says. I give an inward sigh of relief. Why do you ask? she quizzes me.

You get nervous around men, I observe. She looks at her knotted fingers again, flushing once more. I just find you intimidating, she confesses, though I realize she says that without thinking because she blushes all the way to her hairline, but not before I take a sharp intake of breath.I do affect her; the thought pleases me, and I cant help but smile. I am intimidating, but please dont look down. I like to see your face, I say, and kiss that mouth of yours that youve been biting. She looks up. I want to know what youre thinking. You are mysterious, Anastasia. She looks baffled. I tell her that when she blushes, I know shes thinking something, but I dont know what exactly. She asks me if I always make personal observations. I didnt know I was. Wasnt she making personal observations about me last week? She shocks me by saying, Im high handed. How right you are baby! I always get my way Anastasia, I tell her, in all things. I want to know more about her, and ask her about her family. She asks me about mine, but Im keener to know her. But shes not giving much away. As I tell her my sister Mia is in Paris, she says longingly, I hear Paris is lovely, I tell her its beautiful, and ask her if shes been. Shes never left the country. I ask her if she would like to visit. She brightens, and says, To Paris? Of course. But, its England I would really like to visit. I bet I can guess why. My index finger grazes my lower lip, as she looks like shes barely stopping herself from panting. Why? I coax her. Austen, Bronte, Shakespeare, Hardy. I like to see the places that inspired my favorite authors, she says without blinking. Hearts and flowers as I suspected. She looks at her watch. She wants to go to study her finals. I offer her to walk her to Miss Kavanaghs car. She thanks me for the tea. Oh, the pleasure is all on me, I smile. I hold my hand out to her, and she automatically hands it to me once again the current flowing between us. We both stroll back towards the hotel both lost in thought. I love the way her ass looks in those jeans, and without thinking I ask her, Do you always wear jeans? Mostly. She answers confused. Suits her. Very very well. Just as we stroll to the parking lot, she blurts out, Do you have a girlfriend? all flushing, because I think she spoke her thought out loud. I give her a half smile. No, Anastasia. I dont do the girlfriend thing, I answer softly. Shes confused, of course. A flicker of thought passes her face without any words. She has a disappointed look on her face and tries to let go of my hand, walking ahead and tripping headlong onto the street. I find myself shouting, Shit, Ana! as I yank her hand to get her upright as a bicyclist nearly missing hitting her as I pull her to my body as tight as possible. I feel her inhaling my scent as I get a whiff of her soft feminine smell of her hair and skin. I close my eyes momentarily whisper at her ear, Are you okay? while grasping the small of her back with one hand, and trying to make sure shes ok

and has no scratches on her face with the other. I brush her lower lip with my thumb as a shiver runs through my body. Her breath is caught. We lock gazes, and she is intently looking at me, her body and gaze are saying kiss me. Shes lovely, and I am fighting against myself to control my urges to pull her the remaining inch and kiss her. I briefly close my eyes, and when I open them Im determined. Shes too young, too innocent, too lovely. Shes not for my world. You should stay away from me Anastasia. Im not the man for you, I whisper. Her face is fallen as if I hit herhard. Its better if she thinks its rejection than to have her hurt later. Breathe Anastasia, okay? Ill let you stand, and let you walk. She has disappointment, and hurt on her face. She opens her blue eyes as wide as possible as to not let any tears pooling behind to escape. Ive got this, she says, Thank you Mr. Grey. For what? For saving me, she says nearly in tears. Im furious at the f*cker who nearly drove over her. It was that idiots fault, not yours! Do you want me to take you to the hotel lobby and sit with you? Im okay, she says her voice breaking. Thank for doing the photo shoot, she says at the last ditch effort trying not to cry. Im battling with some foreign emotions. I nearly concede, and try to explain myself to her that Im a fucked up guy, and what she would get from me would make her unhappy. Shes the hearts and flowers kind of girl, and the fifty shades of f*cked up Christian Grey doesnt do that. Anastasia I.. I stop, with the inner battle raging within me, wanting her, but not wanting to hurt her. Im torn. I cant bear the hurt on her face. What Christian? she snaps, my name a prayer on her tongue. No, I cant do that to her. I take a small breath and say, Good luck with your exams, confusing her. Thanks! she says nearly in tears, and walks away from me. The last thing I see her doing is wiping away stray tears from her face as I kick myself inside. F*ck! F*ck! F*ck! I turn back to the hotel. I have to punch something, someone, something I am full of emotions Im not familiar with. I cant get her face off of my head. The look The hurt Fuck! Its all my fault I dont do the girlfriend thing and shes not the kind of girl who would do what I want! Im in a fucking conundrum and I have some unknown desire, some pull towards her, and I dont want to hurt her. She will get hurt. Shes too innocent. It wont work with her! The battle in my head rages. How would I know it wont work if I dont try?

Fuck this! Ill give myself another day. See if I can work this out in my head. F*ck! I call Claude Bastille and ask him to get his ass to Portland. I need serious workout. Tomorrow. I will wait till tomorrow.