Truly, Madly Deeply
By Rebop


PART TWO, JONO

I feel you
Your heart it sings
I feel you
The joy it brings
Where heaven waits
Those golden gates
And back again
You take me to
And lead me trough oblivion
This is the morning of our love
This is the dawning of our love


  I stormed down the hallway, scared an elderly couple in the elevator with their pet poodle, and finally ended up in the hotel lobby near the piano bar. I sat in an over stuffed chair just seething for a while as some untalented jerk murdered Gershwin. Thank god he wasn’t singing, I would have blown the place up.

   It took me about an hour to calm down. And as I cooled off and came to my senses, I suddenly began to realize what a complete and total fuck-up I was. It dawned on me slowly what Remy’s motives might be, and I was shocked. For he had done something incredibly unselfish and kind, and I had thanked him by kicking him in the teeth.

  Remy had to be aware of what my options in life were. And I don’t have many. I can’t live like a normal person, I can’t get a job. Belonging to some spandex group is one possibility, hiding like the Morlocks in some attic is another. That’s really it. But Remy had just granted me a third possibity. With all that money, I could live very comfortably, go where I wanted, beholden to no one. And he also severed any tie I had to him. I would never have to ask or beg, I could leave him whenever I wanted. It was an incredibly brave gift. Instead of trying to buy my affection, he had actually set me free.

  It truly was the most amazing thing anyone had ever done for me. And I suddenly felt about two inches high, the most ungrateful bastard in the whole freakin’ world.

  I ran back to the room as fast as I could. When I got outside the door, I had this terrible feeling he might have left, and I wouldn’t have blamed him in the least. I opened the door, very scared and a bit sick. I felt a huge gush of relief when I saw him sitting there in a chair near the window. His eyes flicked up to mine, but there was no expression on them. He had his cold, arrogant mask on, and he had been drinking, there was a bottle of whiskey beside the bedside table. Shit.

  I closed my eyes for a moment, praying very hard that I would be able to give a good enough apology. Shaking, I sat down on the bed, facing him, forcing myself to look in those enigmatic red and black eyes.

 * Remy-yer right. I DO have a big mouth. And a terrible temper. And an unhealthy dose of lower class, stiff-necked Cockney pride. I grew up real poor, me old man was on the dole for years, and taking any kind of charity was the worst sin. But that’s not what you were trying to do, and there’s no excuse for how I treated you. What you did for me was so wonderful, and I am the worst fucking asshole not to see it. I wish with all me heart that I hadn’t hurt you like that, but I did. I am so ashamed of meself, I can’t tell yer how much. I owe you my life, I owe you everything, and I hope you’ll forgive me for being a complete idiotic prat. I am so sorry, love. *

  I braced myself for him to tell me to go straight to hell, but he didn’t. Instead, he let out a long breath, and the mask was gone. “ Cher, dat was a good apology, one of de best. But I should also apoligize, I went too far-”

  I stood up. * No apoligies from you, mate.* I tuned round and bent over, right in front of him * Now give me a swift kick in the ass like I deserve.*

  There was a short, barking laugh; an I did get a surprisingly sharp slap on the bum. The he pulled me into his lap. “Brat.”  He murmered, wrapping me in the hardest, fiercest, hug. He was trembling and again, I was aware of his fragility. I must have scared the shit out of him. What had become of my vow to protect him? I was off to a real rip-roaring start. I hugged him tightly back.

  After a long while, Remy lifted up my head so I could look into his eyes. “ Should tell y’ somet’ing Jono. I love dat stiff necked, Cockney pride of yours. I don’ wan’ to walk all over you, run your life. I wan’ you to be able to tell me to go straight to the devil. I wan’ you to be with me because you choose to, not because you have to. Y’ understand?”

  I nodded slowly. * Took a while to filter in. I’m as thick as the proverbial brick at times. * I touched his cheek * Remy, that the was the kindest, most generous thing in the world. Thank you from the bottom of me heart. Don’t deserve it, but I will be grateful until the day I die. *

  And here is where I should have said it, the big “L” word, but I didn’t. Instead, I burst into a flood of embarrassing tears. Angelo’s right, I’m much too emotional for an Englishman. British Embassy finds out, and I’m in a world of shit. Then again, I should give meself a little slack. In the course of a few days, I did have a nervous breakdown, almost commit suicide, and fall crazy in love. So it makes sense that I am a trifle overwrought. Remy just held me through the hysterics, he’s getting used to this. At least I don’t get snot all over him.

  After I finished, we just sat there for the longest while. It felt a trifle ridiculous perched on his lap, but it was so comforting. I rested my head on his shoulder, he stroked my hair. It was quite lovely actually, and I enjoyed the fact that we could be silent together.

  I finally broke the quiet with a positively brilliant statement.

 *Did yer have dinner then, Rem? *  Yeah. I’m turning into his mum.

 “ Lawyer took me out. Figure wit’ all de money I hand over to dem, dey can buy me a meal. I paid for it anyways, he was a boring little weasel.”

 *Dinner with a weasel. Must have been loads of fun. * I smiled my version of a smile at him. * Well, I’ve got something that will cheer you up, Father Christmas. I got yer a present. *

 “Really?” Remy smiled back, and it was that quick, little boy smile. ‘Aha’, I thought to meself, Remy likes presents. I filed this information away for future reference.  I got up and grabbed a bag, handed it to him. He peered inside, and looked really puzzled. Then I suddenly realized I had handed him the wrong bag, I had given him the one from the chemists. Oh bugger.

  Remy pulled out a large pink bottle of Johnson and Johnson’s baby lotion. He was trying to be very polite. “Mais, Jono, t’anks.” I wished that the floor would swallow me. *Sorry Rem, wrong bloody bag! *  I frantically searched the room, found the bottle of massage oil that I had gotten him. Remy, by now, was grinning like a monkey. He seemed quite pleased with the actual gift, but he was obviously not going to let the baby lotion thing go.

 “So, dis is yours, den, cher?”

  I was so fucking doomed. * Err.yeah. ‘Fraid so. My skin, like everything else about me, is totally weird. Gets real dry and, uh, baby lotion is, um, the only thing that, um, works. *

  Remy looked on the back of that horrid pink bottle. “Says here dat it keeps ‘baby’s skin ever so soft’. Also prevents diaper rash.” Then he started to actually giggle. Remy. Giggling.

  I sighed. * Well, I can personally attest to the fact that I have not had nappie rash once since I have been using it. *

  Remy just lost it here. Really and truly, a full blown laughing jag. Thought he was going to split or something. And when someone laughs this hard, you can’t help but start yourself. Even if it is at your expense.

  Remy finally got himself under some kind of control. Then he suddenly grabbed me and threw me on top of the bed. He kissed me, and I felt all wonderful and happy all of a sudden.

  “T’anks for de present.” I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the massage oil or sending him into hysterics. Guess it didn’t matter.

 * It was my pleasure, love. * I ran my fingers through his satiny hair. * I really am sorry again Rem, for -*

 “Hush now, no more apoligizin’. Dat’s over and done wit’.” He then slid a hand under my shirt, and started to caress my bare stomach. I immediately got all melty and hot.

 “Hmm…” he said in a thoughtful tone. “ Y’ skin does seem awfully dry, cher. Maybe I could do somet’ing ‘bout dat.”

 God help me, now I started to giggle. * Uh, maybe yer could at that, Rem. *

  Remy gave me a sweet, very wicked grin, then he pulled my shirt up a bit further. He started to lick the area around my navel, which felt incredibly good, my eyes half closed in rapturous delight. Then I heard this deep Cajun chuckle, and without warning, he blew a very loud raspberry right into my stomach.

  I was so utterly unprepared for this that I was just astonished for a few seconds. Then I began to laugh, really, really hard. Remy took total advantage of this hysteria by tickling me. And I am, much to my vast regret, appallingly ticklish.

  I tried to fight back, I really did. But Remy is incredibly agile, fast, and a whole lot stronger. I was basically screwed. Soon I was pretty helpless, and Remy showed absolutely no mercy. While I was laughing and writhing around, I also started to lose bits of me clothing. First boots, then socks, then trousers, my shirt, and finally, I was down to me drawers. This last bit of modesty I tried to desperately retain. I knew I would ultimately lose, but I was gonna make him work for it.

  Remy was grinning like a hyena during this pitched battle. He tried to pry my hands of the elastic. “C’mon now Jono! Y’ jus bein’ mule stubborn.”

 * ‘Course I’m being stubborn! It’s me middle name! Ahhh! Remy! You bastard! Not the stomach again! Shit! Ahhhh! *

  Remy then really nailed me right at the base of my rib cage; with his other hand he gave my poor boxers a hard yank. I held on for dear life, shrieking with laughter. There was a ripping sound that startled me, and I suddenly let go. Remy gave a crow of triumph and then there I was, buck-naked. (Bandages don’t count.)

  Gambit gave what was left of my underwear a toss and ran a lean hand up my bare thigh. I instantly stopped laughing. “ Y’ gonna behave y’self now, Mr. Starsmore?”

  Quite frankly, I was too weak with laughter to do much else. * Yes, love. I am now the model of complete and utter obedience. *

  Gambit shook his handsome head. “Yeah, and pigs gonna fly and dance de Macarena.” He massaged my thigh some more, which now was making me shiver. “ So let’s see what ol’ Remy can do ‘bout dis dry skin of yours.”

  Apparently, Remy’s skin therapy included getting all naked himself. I didn’t protest. It was so lovely watching him undress. I adore that magnificent, angular body. There’s something very feline about Remy, his skin has a soft ivory sheen and there are all these rippling, lean muscles. Holy god. A hot pool of warmth started to form at my groin area. Remy took a look at my growing hard on and chuckled. “Jonothan, you bad, bad boy.”

 * Can’t help meself. It’s yer blinding beauty, Remy me love. *

  Remy threw back his head and laughed, and that moment, he removed his shorts. He was very hard himself, and that glorious, pink tipped erection thrusting out of a soft brush of red hair was quite a blinding sight indeed. I groaned and tried to maintain some kind of control.

  Remy went and fetched our now well-used tube of lube and the baby lotion and returned to the bed. I had a feeling this was going to be a highly unorthodox skin treatment. Remy knelt beside me and opened the lotion bottle. “Now hold still, baby.”

 * Do yer  have to use the term “baby”-Ahhhh!!!* I squealed when Remy poured an enormous amount of pink goo on my belly. * Jesus, Remy that’s fucking cold! *

 “Hush up, brat.”  Remy’s long thieves fingers started to rub the lotion every which way. I stated to squirm again, not because it was cold, but because it felt like heaven. Dazed as I was, I decided it would be a good idea to share this divine experience. I dipped my hand in the goop on my stomach and started to rub some on Remy’s chest. I’m totally mad about his chest, there’s this dark red hair perfectly feathered across his pecs, and these exquisite pink nipples that are a pleasure to touch and tease. I tickled them into sharp pebbly nubs and I watched in delight as Gambit bit his sexy lower lip in response, eyes half closed.

  Very quickly, things got totally out of control. Lotion started going just everywhere, and we both got slippery and as slick as seals. We laughed and tormented each other, and I almost slid off the bed once. I slopped a thick handful of lotion over Remy’s balls, and he gasped and bit my shoulder. I made him moan and shiver for a few delicious minutes, then he turned the tables by stroking my erection with sure, Johnson and Johnson covered fingers. This was so amazing a sensation that I instinctively started to thrust my cock into his warm, slickery hand. Remy stopped me all of a sudden, and I was just about to shamelessly beg when he said, “ Not yet sweet. Want y’ to come big time for me.”

 Well, that sounded like a fabulous plan, I was game! I wasn’t sure how much longer I was going to hold out though.

  Remy suddenly flipped me over on my belly, and started stroking my ass. Then he said, in his most naughty Cajun purr, “ Spread y’ legs a little, cher.” I did what he asked, groaning loudly in anticipation. He started to both kiss and bite my bum, making me shiver and cry. Then he ran his long, very hot tongue into the cleft of my ass. I just about died right there, I gripped the bedclothes tighter and tighter as Remy’s tongue probed even deeper. I don’t know what I was saying at this point. All I was conscious of was Remy’s incredible tongue torture, and my cock throbbing and aching against the rough bedspread.

  Remy drove me crazy for a few more wondrous minutes, and I completely lost all dignity. * God Remy, god, stop-oh don’t-oh god, let’s fuck, please, please, please! *

 He finally stopped toying with me, and turned me back over, bringing that sly, beautiful face, ever so close. He licked his lips and grinned. “Since y’ ask so nice baby, Remy more den happy to oblige.” He handed me the lube.

   I didn’t hesitate. I got that lovely stuff all over my hand and the put a serious coating over Remy’s trembling cock. I coaxed out a drop or two of precum from the tip, watched it trickle down the length. Remy sucked in some air through his teeth and licked his lips again slowly, so sensual. What a picture. He then sat back and leaned against the headboard, propping himself up with some pillows. I instantly sussed out the situation, it was a position we hadn’t tried yet. Couldn’t wait.

  I straddled his lap, my legs now shaking with excitement. Remy had a very naughty gleam in his ruby red eyes. He kissed my face as I caressed his strong shoulders for a moment. Then I reached down and took hold of his penis, and started to guide it inside of me. Gambit immediately moaned. “Oooh, oui Jono, oui.” Even with all the lube, it’s a bit painful at first; I guess I am very tight. But the pain goes away pretty quickly, and I had the added enjoyment of listening to some throaty Cajun groans as his cock went deeper and deeper. Pretty soon I took in his entire length, and it was total bliss. My own cock brushed against his flat, washboard stomach, I was now dribbling excited fluids everywhere.

  Remy gipped my ass very tight, then he leaned forward a little. His voice was ragged and trembling. “ Jono, cher, it so good inside y’, my sweet.” He grinned and moaned again. “Make me cum, baby.”

   I balanced myself by holding on to Remy’s shoulders, and started a slow sweet rhythm, guided by Remy just a bit. As his hardness slipped in and out, I was able to watch the waves of pleasure cross his face. I was so happy to do this for him, and I soon got lost in my own ecstasy, Remy’s cock driving me wild. We both sighed and groaned, and Remy urged me on to ride him harder and harder, faster and faster. Pretty soon there was just nothing but the two of us, totally focused, totally crazed.

  “Oh Jono, dat’s de ticket, yeah, you feel so good, umhmm, umhmm.”  Then Remy reached down and his hand found my now very raging hard on. He pumped it, tortured it, and such a wave of heat through me that I almost lost my balance. But I kept on riding him until Remy suddenly threw back his sweaty head and made an aching cry, eyes tightly shut. Then his orgasm slammed into me like a freight train and my own began. I ejaculated in a sticky, mad gush, and all I could do is say his name over and over as the wildfire zoomed through my body. Then I did a rather embarrassing thing. I passed out.

  It was only a few seconds. When I came to, Remy was holding me up with one hand, patting my cheek with the other. I blinked and shook my head. “Jono-cher, you okay?” There was a tremor of worry in his voice.

  I felt like I was happily, goofily, drunk. I giggled a bit. * Err, yeah love, I’m fine. More than fine. Must have blacked out for a mo’. * I slumped over, resting my head on his shoulder. * Christ on a sidecar that was just bloody fantastic! * I giggled uncontrollably.

  Remy threw his arms around me and started to laugh too. “Yeah, dat was quite de rocket ride. But I should be lil more careful of y’, sweet.”

   I made a mental Remy ‘pffft’ noise. * Oh, rot. I’m tough! Bring on another orgasm, I say! I can take it! * I nuzzled his ear. * Only problem with this earth moving event ducks, is that you are going to be so bleedin’ insufferable. “ I made Jono cum so hard he passed out.” Me only hope is that I can someday return the favor. *

  Remy licked my nose. “Gambit more den willin’ to let y’ try, Jonothan Starsmore.”

 I ran my fingers through his damp hair. * Might be a lot of trial and error, sweetheart. Might have to practice, practice, practice. *

 A very wide grin. “Damn.”

  I gently pressed my bandages to his lips * Yeah. Damn.* He kissed me softly back. Then with great regret, I got slowly off his lap, severing our connection. Remy slid onto his back and gathered me in his arms. I rested my head on his wet and somewhat sticky chest as he drew a blanket over both of us.

  I’m learning to really love the whole post-coital cuddling thing. I smelled that wonderful after sex smell, and Remy is the most delicious thing ever, although there was also an overpowering baby lotion scent mixed in. He stroked the small of my back with one warm hand. I was boneless and floaty, safe as houses. I ran my fingers through the hair on his chest as he murmured in French to me, voice all sleepy and dreamy. He calls me all kinds of things, little terms of endearment. Amoureaux, he says. My French sucks, but I know it means lover. I am Remy’s lover. And he is mine.

  It scares me a bit that I want to stay this way forever. And that I came so fucking close to blowing it. I know things can change in a heartbeat, better than anyone, I expect. But I don’t want to be ruled constantly by fear anymore. So I’m going to try to live in the moment as much as possible, just take it a day at a time. How very wise and Zen of me, such valuable knowledge.

  I also now know that I really, really, really love my Johnson and Johnson’s baby lotion.



 Next day was Shopping With Remy. A very fascinating experience, that. We had to get some things for our trip, suitable clothing and whatnot.

  Now I have a confession to make, which should come as no surprise: I hate most shopping. I can spend an hours in a book or music shop, but clothing, I last about a half hour, tops. This is why I stick to one color (black) and one basic style. I made the enormous mistake once of going on a shopping excursion with Paige and Jubilee. After two bloody, agonizing hours of staring at nothing but shoes, I was ready to lie down in the middle of the street and let a lorry run over me. And Angelo and I got into a rare fight at a Gap store once, when I discovered the old fellow is intensely label conscious and can spend an inordinate amount of time contemplating a single pair of underwear. I figured no court would have convicted me if I had throttled him, a person should only have to endure so much.

  So I felt more than a little trepidation when this all started, but I was absolutely determined to be on me best behavior. I had already fucked up spectacularly; I didn’t want to do it again. Besides, I was spending time with Remy. What else would I want to do?

  I will say this for Remy, he doesn’t dither. Knows what he wants, and if they don’t have it, fuck it, and if they do, fuck the expense. It’s kamikaze style shopping. He also took me gently in hand, as I get a little lost in these situations. He had to remind me, for example, that we were shopping for a long period in the tropics, so sweaters were probably not the best choice

  So the actual shopping part wasn’t bad at all. But what I did not expect is what happens when you walk into Macys with the most Beautiful Man on Earth.

  Generally, I can’t get someone to help me even if I set meself on fire. Remy had people falling all over themselves to get to him, both men and women. Swear to god, they must have been even coming out of the mailroom. And the all had this stupefied, “I’ll drop my knickers for you in a minute” expression. And Remy seemed to enjoy all the attention, took it as his due. I guess he does have a bit of an ego, or maybe it’s the need for reassurance. I dunno. He really poured on the charm too, flirted like nobody’s business with that very sexy accent of his.

  At first, I was just amazed by the circus, then, well, I started to get pissed. Remy was very adept at avoiding any touchy feely stuff, and he coolly ignored the most blatent of come-ons, but I began to stew anyway. And I could have been a mannequin standing for all they cared. If I did get noticed, I got this puzzled, ‘you can’t possibly be with him’ stare.

  So I was ripe for an all out, Jonothan Starsmore tantrum, pat. pend. This one tart, I swear, was about to ask him to just fuck her on the perfume counter, and I was seriously contemplating hurling her down the escalator. But then, a miracle happened! I got a rare, sudden attack of common sense. The conversation went something like this:

 Me: If that little slut touches his arm ONE MORE TIME I’m gonner blow her right off her bleedin’ high heels and into next year!

 Common Sense: Hey, vato, now just calm down and hold your horses. (Me common sense sounds exactly like Angelo.)

 Me: Why the fuck should I?!!!

 CS: Because you already used up your entire asshole quota.

 Me: Oh. Yeah.

 CS: And Remy is a big boy, he can handle it if they get out of line.

 Me: It’s not just them I’m pissed off at. Does he have to be Miseu Cajun Smoothie all the time?

 CS: Well, brudda, my guess is, that’s just the way his motor runs. He’s not serious. Doubt he’ll change. If you get all jealous and stuff, you’ll just burn yourself out. Kill ya, dude.

 Me: Well that bloody sucks!

 CS: Not really, estupido. Who, after all, does Mr. Cajun Smoothie sleep with these days? These people may be panting all over him, but you’re the one he shares his bed with, the one he treats like royalty, the one he smiles that smile at. So grow up, save the jealous hissy fit for when it would mean something, and get over yourself.

 Me: (long pause) Yer gotta point, mate. Thanks.

  Suddenly feeling all grown up and wise, I went over to Remy and the sales clerk. She was most definitely offering him every opportunity to peek down her blouse. I however, remained cucumber cool.

 * ’Scuse me, Rem. * I touched his arm, and Remy actually looked a trifle embarrassed, as well as seeming to brace himself for some kind of tirade. * Just wanted to let yer know that I will be over there, lookin’ at socks. * I then gave the sales clerk an Incredibly Smug Look. (I obviously can’t telepathically speak to average people, it really freaks them out. So I have to carry a pen and memo pad everywhere to communicate. But it was sooo very hard to not say to her, “I’m fucking him and you’re not, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah.” Err, so much for my new found maturity.)

  Remy rewarded me with this wide, dazzling 1000 watt smile, and I had this distinct feeling I had passed some kind of test. Then he made the sales clerk eyeballs nearly pop out of her head when he leaned over and kissed my cheek. In the middle of Macys! “Be wit’ y’ in a minute, sweet.”  I shot the now stunned sales clerk another Incredibly Smug Look, and floated off to actually look at socks.

  After a little while Remy joined me at the amazing sock emporium. He threw his arms around my shoulders (again, in the middle of Macys!) and told me he had done a very Prince of Egypt thing and sent our bags on to the hotel. Only thought that happened in films. Then he said; “ Jono, I was t’inkin’ it would be nice to to go out and celebrate, y‘ know, dinner, dancing, de whole nine yards. What do y’ say?”

 * That sounds wonderful, love. * Of course, I am so utterly enamored with Remy, if he had said instead, “ Jono, I was t’inkin’ it would be nice to get naked, paint ourselves blue, stick feather dusters up our asses and run around Times Square.” I would have answered, * That sounds wonderful, love. What shade of blue d’yer prefer? *

 Now Remy apparently can’t do anything without doing it in style, so he had to get suitable attire for this big evening. He found this Armani suit (bitching all the while it was off the rack) in a dark green color, combined it with a white silk shirt. Very simple, really. But when he walked out of the dressing room, he was enough to stop traffic. He preened in front of the mirror a bit, my darling Prince of Egypt, then turned to me. “ What do y’ think, cher? Will I do?”

  I went over and straightened his collar. * Now ducks, you know and I know yer god’s gift. What a great, shameless peacock you are. *

 He laughed, as me giving him crap seems amusing to him somehow. A nose pinch. “ Now your turn, Jonothan.”A wave of panic. The idea of me in Armani was totally fuckin’ ridiculous. Although if we were gonna go out, what I was now wearing wouldn’t do either. I had on the emergency clothing that Remy had bought me earlier. I was kind of Goth Bondage meets L.L. Bean.

  * Um, well, sweetheart, I don’t think I quite have the panache to, uh, carry off any of this. * I gestured at the entire Armani line.

 He chuckled. “ Well, den let’s find something y’ got de panache for. And y’ do have panache, Jonothan Starsmore.”

 Oh yeah, right. Panache is me middle name. How do I get myself into these situations?

 So we ended up taking a cab to a store I’ve been to a couple times, DeSade’s Dungeon. It’s kind of a Mecca for all us W.O.B.s, (Wearers Of Black) as well as the kinkier element of society. I had no idea what Remy would think. It turned out he was mightily amused by the entire black leather, latex and chains inventory. And I found myself relaxing a bit, as in a place like that I don’t look weird.

  I still sort of drew a paralyzed blank as to what to pick, so Remy had to start bossing me around, thank God. He quickly selected a coat, trousers, shirt, and some really quite splendid boots and shoved me into a dressing room.

  The trousers were leather and a bit tight, so it took a while to get ‘em on. Pretty simple black shirt, and belt. The boots were just incredible, I wanted them desperately. Calf high with lots of buckles. And the coat was also fantastic. Very Victorian ultra Goth, with a hint of sable. Reminded me of what Trent  Reznor was wearing in that “Perfect Drug” video.( I’m afraid I’ve had a number of raging wet dreams about Trent.) But it was something I’d never pick for myself. Too much panache.

  “C’mon, Jono, let’s have a look at y’.” Remy was standing right outside the dressing room. The things I do for him. So I put on the coat and walked outside, feeling stupid. Remy smiled so wide, I thought his face was going to split.

 “Oooh baby, you, hot, hot!”

 Yeah, sure. *Yer kidding, right? * Remy’s expression got very gentle. “Didn’t y’ look in de mirror, Jono?”

  I couldn’t help it; I stared at him as if he had grown a horn out of the top of his head. I’ve become the world’s biggest expert in mirror avoidance, didn’t glance at the one in the dressing room once. I’ve destroyed a number of them too, got about 49 years of bad luck coming

  Remy didn’t wait for me to say anything. He suddenly grabbed me by the shoulders, spun me around and I was suddenly face-to-face with my reflection. For a second I was shocked, and then I became just totally, utterly furious. Why was he being so cruel? I also got swamped with that old, familiar mix of self-hate and fear.

  But I had forgotten I was with an empath. Remy countered all this turmoil with a blast of affection, warmth and kindness so intense that I instantly stopped shaking, all anger evaporated. I still looked at the floor. He wrapped his arms around my waist. “Not tryin’ to hurt y,’ honey.”  He whispered in my ear.

 *Then why are yer doing this, Rem? * I whispered back.

 “Because I want y’ to stop bein’ so afraid, stop hating yourself. Y’ really are de most beautiful t’ing, Jonothan, inside and out. I ain’t tellin’ no lie. Look and see what I see.”

 I kept staring at the floor, and I was also thinking that everyone in the shop would be gawping at us by now. * I can’t. *

 “Oui, y’ can, baby. I’m right here. And Jono, y’ de bravest person I have ever met. Y’ can do dis too.”

  And somehow, what he said gave me courage. I lifted my head very slowly and looked. Remy kept up the empathy, soothing me, holding me tight. And it really wasn’t so bad. The clothes were magnificent, and I actually did have a bit of panache after all. And my face…it wasn’t so bad either. I’d forgotten my eyes were so brown. Or my nose was so long. And I saw that I needed a haircut. What really helped though, was what I saw on Remy’s face. He had pushed up his dark glasses for a moment; I could see his strange eyes. And his usual cool, somewhat arrogant expression was long gone. In its place was so much caring, warmth and pride. And I could see, at least in his eyes, that I was indeed, really beautiful.

  Of course, I broke down once more. However, this is such a monstrous issue for me, I’m not going to offer any excuses. It is a bit mortifying though, I’ve cried more in the last few days then I have in my whole life. I’m going to have to change my nationality from British to hysterical Italian person.

  I managed to give Remy a quick, hard hug, and then I shot back into the dressing room and had a nice PMS type cry. I eventually got under control, changed back to my old clothes and red-eyed, left the dressing room. I was sort of relieved Remy was not there hovering, as I would have started to cry again. He must have sensed this, and was over in a corner, looking at some back issues of ‘Skin’ magazine.

  I went up to the counter to buy the whole lot, to turn meself into a panachey person. The girl at the counter was really cute, a little porcelain doll of a thing with an absinthe colored hair bob. She gave me a sweet, black lipstick smile.

  “Glad you’re getting all this.” She said as she rang up a small fortune on my new charge card. “You looked so great.” And I had the feeling that she wasn’t just saying this because she was making a whopping commission. I took out my memo pad and wrote ‘Thanks, love’. She patted my hand quickly. “People in love always look so beautiful, sweetie.”

  It was such an unexpectedly kind thing to say, I was right shocked. I was also filled with a big, warm happy feeling. She could tell? I did something I would not normally do; I picked up her hand and squeezed it. She beamed at me. “Enjoy yourself, Mr. Starsmore.” She winked. “He is SO gorgeous, but then, so are you.” I winked back. Then I picked up my bags, and tore Remy away from the magazine rack. As we left the shop, I was lighter than air.

  Remy smiled at me, brushed the back of my hand. “Y’ doin’ ok now, sweet?”

 I took his hand in mine. * Just grand, love, grand. *  And I was. All in all, I’d never had a better shopping experience.


Continue to Part 3
 

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