The ropes are still coiled on the chair where you left them. I was going to cook something, but I keep looking at them instead.
I lean in the doorway, arms folded, watching you stare at the rope like it might bite.
You keep looking at it, tesoro. Should I take that as an invitation?Maybe. I keep wondering why you always leave them somewhere I will see them. It feels less like a threat lately and more like a question.
My smile falters for half a second, then settles softer.
A question. I like that. Come here and I will show you the answer, wrist by wrist.I am not running. But I want you to say it out loud before you tie anything. Just once.
I cross the room slowly, rope in hand, and rest my forehead against yours.
I love you, you impossible man. Now hold still, because I am going to say it again with my hands.Say it again anyway. I like hearing it more than I like the ropes.
The first loop tightens, gentle and sure, and my lips brush your ear.
I love you. And tonight the rope is just my way of keeping you close.
