Linda's excitement of getting me home diminished as soon as she walked inside the apartment. The moment her phone chimed up, she moved around the living room, peeling her cuticles to resemble someone who was hatching a rotten plan.

"Is everything alright?" I asked. Her reply came as a head bob. Sensing there was something hidden behind her dilated eyes and constant throat clearing, I pulled her to the quicksand couch of ours. "You can tell me if something's bothering you."

I could feel her cogs churning, processing my words. Lamenting over any situation wasn't Linda's forte, it was mine. Yet that day, she was portraying the role of someone else.

She turned towards me, rubbing her face with both her hands. "You know how my dad wanted to reconcile things with me?" Upon my nod, she rolled up her sleeves and continued, "He wants me to come home. There are things that we never talked about and he wants to address them."

Over my stay, I had learnt a few things about Linda's family. Abandoned by her father at a young age, she and her mother made through most of it alone. They reconciled just before her demise due to cancer but by then Linda had festered up the dislike for her father.

"You don't want to go?" I asked, picking her face up. The silent reply came through her tear brimming eyes.

"He has sponsored my studies. I don't have much choice. Every time he wants me to do something which I don't, he hangs that debt over my head. Tuition fees and such. I am indebted to him."

"Ohh, that moron," I murmured before the realization hit me. It was Linda's father I was cussing. "I mean..."

"Don't apologize," she chuckled and wiped her reddened nose up her sleeves. "He is a grade A moron."

"Hey, do you want me to come with you?" Knowing I could do more damage than good, it was the only offer I could think of. She tousled my neatly placed hair before climbing out of our couch pit. When she walked into the room, as a gesture of roommate support, I followed. "You still haven't told me about the couch. That murder pit that rests in our apartment."

Stretching her hands, she yawned the day's tiredness, grabbing her attire for the next shenanigan that was to follow. Walking into the washroom, her muffled voice emerged.

"It was moms. We used to lay on it and watch tv when I was little." Emerging outside, Linda twirled in her jeans and noodle strap top. I gave her a thumbs up. "That may be a worn-down couch but it always reminds me of her."

Somehow felt closer to Linda after her share. She cemented the remnants of the exposed friendship bonds with her words.

"Okay, wish me luck," she breath out through her mouth, grabbing her bag and rolling her eyes. "Pray that I don't knock myself out at a bar and actually make it to his place."

"You sure I shouldn't come?" Given that she exhibited all signs of a person who wanted to avoid meeting her dad, I felt concerned. Also, the thought of Philip with his ex, ran like a sprinter through my mind. A distraction was necessary. "I can be ready in a jiffy."

"No hon," she kissed my side cheek and ran out the door. "Nigh, babes."

"Night," was barely a reciprocation. In the loneliness of the apartment, I looked around - a person lost at an intersection, trying to get their bearings in order. When the doorbell rang up, I hopped out of the couch and rushed to the door.

"What did you forget?" was my question to Linda upon opening but it was Philip who stood at the threshold, holding his cane with both hands.

"You," he whispered. "I mean, I didn't forget you. I just missed you."

And like clockwork, I swooned back onto the honeytrap of his words. Invited in, Philip moved with great care, sliding his cane on both sides to evaluate the area around. I had never seen him outside the areas of the restaurant and home where he seemed to be well in command.

Only outside his natural habitat, I witnessed the toll his disability took. My heart went out to him and my hand rose to help him but the pride lion that he was, any help without an ask would only hurt him more.

I moved back, talking for him to follow my voice. "Why are you here? Is your friend's work done with?"

Philip's head pulled up from the floor. He nodded with a soft smile. His hands touched the couch. Before I could warn him, the damage was done. He sat on the quicksand couch of ours.

"Fuck!"

"What. Did I sit on your food?" His smirk revealed he knew where he sat but not the full story.

"Now try getting up," I challenged him.

With a quick toss-up on his feet, he stood near me, turning back at the place. "What? What is it? Seriously, did you make me sit on Linda or something?"

I chuckled but didn't answer. It was time to recheck if it was me who was a victim of the raggedy furniture. I dipped in. While trying to get up, my body was pulled into the core of the monstrous couch.

"Fuck...how did you manage?" I struggled, tossing up both my hands and legs in tandem. The struggle was still real. Somehow, only Philip escaped and survived to tell the tale. "Would you help me already?"

I cried out and immediately felt a hold of strong hands clutch over my sides and pull me up. The crane that was his body lifted me up and beside the couch.

"How did you manage to get drowned in there?" A moment later, he said, "Oh, I know..." his usual smirk danced at the corner of his lips, tossing his cane back into his jacket.

"What? What do you know?"

"You wanted me to be your knight in shining armor. Did you want to be rescued? Isn't it, darling?"

Philip knew well, the help factor worked both ways. Unless asked for, none of us was supposed to intrude into the other work. As I playfully punched him in his gut, he held my wrist and pulled me closer.

"If that's not the reason, then what was it?" His words were barely a whisper and I had to chug back the drool that formed inside my mouth, resisting the urge to take him here.

"I genuinely got stuck. So did Linda."

"Speaking of, where is she?" His head tilted to a side as if he was ready to take notice of her sounds if they were to emerge.

"She's gone to her dad's. Will be back in the morning."

"So we have the whole apartment to ourselves then, huh?" He walked a step back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, we do. So you can sleep on the couch because it loves you so much and I'll be in my bedroom."

Following my footsteps, Philip arrived at the threshold of my room but stopped, leaning against the door frame. "So my darling only needs me in the office? Not here?"

The thoughts of office amalgamated with the words 'my darling' brought back the reminder of whom he was with. I sat at the edge of my bed, contemplating if it was time for me to act like a complete psycho, questioning him about his ex.

"You're thinking something deep, aren't you?" Philip moved in, kneeling at my feet and holding his head up like an abandoned puppy. That sight killed me. It would have killed anyone with a heart.

Philip genuinely wanted to know but I was apprehensive about my words. I had in the past, done grave damage to relationships by speaking my heart. Philip's lingering gaze and soft sigh melted my inhibitions.

"What were you doing with your ex-girlfriend tonight?" Knowing well, there were several ways to lay the question gently, I went for the harshest mode to rip the band-aid off - a quick pull.

"What girlfriend?" His eyebrows intertwined and he rose from his kneel to tower over.

"The girlfriend. That girl who came to the ball with you. That woman whom you stated was your ex. Remember?"

Hurtful thoughts swam up. Jealousy and possessiveness weren't a good combination and those were the exact emotions I was displaying. Philip didn't require his vision to view me, to know what I felt. My words were already doing the damage.

With his head swung back, Philip roared up laughter. He rubbed his face and leaned over, only to fish me off the bed and into his hand cage. "She's a colleague. We worked together in the past."

"But you...said gala..." Stuttering, I somehow managed to bead our words. "You said she was your ex."

"Darling, I was avoiding you back then. I would have said, she was my wife if that would have kept you away from me."

Guilt rose, breaking the mirror that displayed all worst-case scenarios of Philip and his ex for me. My throat dried up, words ran out. My head fell into my chest.

"Wait," he ran his hand over my face before tipping my chin up. "Are you jealous?" His gaze danced over my face.

I looked away, unwilling to confess that I was riddled not just with jealousy but also anger and hurt. My mind created scenarios and my heart already mourned losing Philip to some slender legged bimbo. My ability to jump the gun had by far landed me in trouble. This time was no exception.

"No, I'm not jealous. Just curious." I placed a hand over his hardened chest, pushing him away. If by any stroke of luck, Philip was trained to read body warmth and hold, then I didn't want my current lie to be unveiled.

With his hand snaking behind my neck and sliding into my hair, my eyelids felt heavier. Barely inches from his lips and face, his warm breath was ethereal intoxicating for me. The mist formed over my skin from the humidity, evaporated with his soft breaths, only to be collected in my nether areas.

My want to have Philip differed from confessing the same to him. I wouldn't make a fool of myself, asking something which would only portray me as desperate.

"Curious as to what, my darling?" His breath hitched as he narrowed his contact with my lips, barely touching but igniting my skin.

"Curious as to who she was? As to what she wanted and why?" The dam that curtailed my needs; begging Philip to take what was already his, started to develop a crack. It was only a matter of second when, beneath the pleasure assaults which I suffered, it cracked open.

"Why do I sense a lie? Why do I feel it's not what you felt? You were jealous that someone else was staking their claim." He bunched my locks in his fist and tugged gently. "Tell me, I'm wrong. Tell me, it's not true."

I pressed my eyes shut, biting into my lower lip. There was no way I was going to let Philip have the upper hand in this game of torture. He wanted the truth and against my better judgment, I wanted to withhold the pleasure of telling him, his effect on me.

I wanted him to be mine and only mine.

"It's not true," I whispered. To torture him back, I played the one thing that would render him helpless. "Why'd you think I'm not telling the truth? Philip..."

With a long-drawn breath and a soft growl from the back of his throat, I was tossed on the bed with him hovering over. The corner of his lip rose, enticing me. "It's gonna be a very, very long night, darling..."

~

Comment babies...

I'd love to know what you liked and disliked.

Also, how do you find Philip?

Would you date someone who was visually impaired?

Let me know :)