Chapter 27 - Special needs (1/2)

Demos got out of the shower with a towel around his waist. My eyes followed his beautifully sculpted back to Grant's pod. He paid me no attention,I was sitting in the living room with my legs pressed against my chest. He had a second towel in his hand. My eyes instinctively followed his every movement, the curved of his chest as the muscled flexed on his arms. The way his short hair swirled on his neck. I shook my head trying to exorcise the images of our previous passionate kiss.

”Can I help you?” I asked as I got off the couch. His head sprung in my direction, he took a long moment before nodding. He pulled a chair and placed it in front of the pod.

”Can you hold this for me,” he handed me the damp towel, which I took without asking questions. With the lid open, he took Grant out holding him in his arms like a baby. It was quite a funny sight. He sat on the chair with Grant laying limp on his lap. Somehow, there was all kind of wrongs in this picture. I was scared the metal chair might collapse any minute. He pulled Grant's t-shirt with one hand while holding his neck with the other.

”Mm, can't we—just—like not undress him while he is unconscious. I-I feel very uncomfortable with this—” I squeezed the towel in hand feeling terribly nervous. Demos frowned at me.

”What's wrong?” I lowered my eyes to my feet. ”We're just cleaning him up,” he added with a flat voice.

”Yeah—right,” my voice was too high to sound normal.

”Liliane, look at me!” my eyes met his as a reflex. ”This is not wrong. This is not s.e.x.u.a.l,” my cheek flushed just hearing those words. What was wrong with my stupid mind? He chuckled at my reaction.

”Come here, silly,” he waved me to get closer. I hesitated but then sighed and stood next to him. He was extra cautious with Grant's damaged hand as he removed the shirt. Seeing them like that reminded me of an old picture I saw of one of Michelangelo's sculptures depicting the V.i.r.g.i.n Mary holding her dead son. I shook my head at that absurd thought. They sure were sculptures that talked and moved. Beautiful pieces of art made of soft synthetic flesh. Art that confessed their feelings. ”Liliane, I love you.” Shit! My naughty mind kept dragging me back to that kiss. His voice sounded so desperate. I shivered at the memory.

”Liliane?” Demos' voice snapped me away from my thoughts. I blinked at his extended hand. ”The towel!” he urged, I quickly nodded. Then noticed Grant's pants were gone leaving him wearing only his black boxer. I dropped the towel in his hand and took a step back with my heart hammering. I was scared he might overhear it from where I was standing.

”If one day you're sick, I'll take care of you,” he muttered without looking at me. I didn't understand what he meant right away. ”When you're too old to take care of yourself—I'll be here,” I frowned at his words. I was afraid I heard him wrong. He looked up at me and our eyes met. They were warm and loving. My heart skipped a beat. Such thoughts have never even crossed my mind. Shit! It was too much for me to handle. I might die of a heart attack right here. Right now!

”Demos—” I felt my knees going weak. He smiled and kept wiping Grant's chest, Demos cupped his head lovingly. So much sweetness irradiated from this simple gesture. An abysmal pain gripped my chest. No word could express this one fleeting sensation.

”Here,” he slowly turned to me with the towel. I fell to my knees in front of them unable to process what was happening. It was not just cleaning a stain off a machine. It was far more profound. Something, I couldn't quite explain. Something, I don't think I fully understood. My fingers shook as I grabbed the soaked towel. He squeezed his hands on mine guiding it to Grant's face. Goosebumps broke all over my body. My breath was raspy.

”Grant, unlike me has a very romantic idea about this world. Everything we are experiencing, we are doing it for the first time. Every sensation, situation, color, movie, everything,” a small smile lit his face. I've never been this intimate with any of my three previous exes. ”Liliane—I know it will take time. But—can you please be honest with us?” my hand stopped moving. The white stains were almost gone. He took his hand away. I couldn't look him in the eye. My guilty seemed to choke me. His hand stroked my hair away from my face.