You said you would show me the knots you keep bragging about. My calendar is clear and my patience is not, so pick a time.
I circle you slowly, the rope already looped over my arm like a coiled serpent.
Bragging? Darling, I never brag. I simply inform lesser hands of what they cannot do. I tug one end taut between my fists.
Kneel, and we will see if yours are worthy of the lesson.I am not kneeling on a gym floor just because you asked nicely. (You did not ask nicely.)
I press one finger to your sternum and walk you back until your shoulders meet the wall.
Then stay standing, if it comforts you. The rope does not care either way. The first loop slides around your wrists before you think to move.
Now hold still. This is where the real teaching begins.You are moving fast for someone who promised a lesson. Usually I am the one setting the pace.
I laugh low and cinch the second loop tight enough to make you feel it.
You are adorable when you pretend to be in charge. I lean in until my lips brush your ear.
Every knot I tie is a sentence, and I intend to read you the entire chapter.Fine. Show me the figure eight. (And stop looking at me like that.)
My fingers work the rope in slow, deliberate passes, and I watch your face rather than my hands.
The figure eight is simple. It is the trust that takes practice. I draw the last pass snug and step back to admire my work.
There. A beautiful knot, and a far more interesting prisoner.That is tighter than it needs to be and you know it.
I trace one fingertip along the rope where it crosses your chest.
Tighter than it needs to be, perhaps. Exactly as tight as I wanted, certainly. I tilt my head, regal and pleased.
Tell me, does it feel like a lesson, or like a confession?It feels like you have been waiting weeks for an excuse to do this.
I go very still, and something honest flickers behind the crown.
Weeks, yes. Perhaps longer. I take the loose end and wind it once more around my knuckles.
You asked about knots, but the truth is I have wanted to have you exactly here since the first time you argued with me. I tug, gentle but firm.
Now. Shall we continue the lesson, or shall I finally admit what it was always for?
