Deluded

The hood of his metal grey jumper shadowed his ruffled mop of hair and glistening green eyes. The brightness of his reflective yellow vest disguised his loitering on the fancy, residential South London street. The luminous safety jacket somehow deterred anyone from paying much attention to him; the rich folk who lived down here probably saw him as ‘just a bin man’, or some low-end serviceman - no need to pay much attention. The splattering of the wet pavement under his black trainers was the only sound that echoed around him and the bite of the cold, funneling air forced him to wade down the darkened street, tackling the elements to reach his goal. To get to her.

He stood directly across from the two story detached house, the one he had been staring at for months, if he was any good at art he would be able to draw from memory each weathered crack of the tea coloured brick house, with a central doorway and four glowing windows. Its tiny front garden was ladened with small, naked trees wrapped up in twinkling lights and a swinging bird feeder covered in moss. He didn’t know how he got there, the whole journey seemed like a blur as he stood outside the glossy blue door. He had imagined entering the house many times over the past three months, daydreaming that the contents of what was contained within the bricks and mortar belonged to him. The fantasy always felt warm and smelt of a Sunday roast; comforting and hearty, full of love. He would envision walking through the hallway, past the stairs and into the open plan kitchen, with its china blue powdered cupboards supporting gleaming white marble tops. She would be bending in-front of the open oven, the warm blast making the golden wisps of her hair flutter as she pulled out a tray of something delicious. She would turn and smile at him, making him feel weak. She would place the tray down without breaking away from his eyes, rush into his arms and straight to his lips, smothering him in her love while pulling off his clothes. Depending on his mood, and how she had been acting in real life that day, they would either do it there on the kitchen counter like wild animals, or he would slow it down, enjoy the feeling of being wanted, helping her make dinner, cuddling her close on the sofa and kissing the top of her head.

It had been three months ago that she caught his eye, the luck he had when he got called on to the job last minute, the original contractor’s wife had gone into early labour and they needed a replacement to help with the structural engineering for the ghastly glass block of modern flats being erected opposite her house. It was day two that he saw her, he was walking down the road around 8.30am hurrying along on the bright August afternoon.

“I could see you up ahead but you didn’t strike me straight away,” he mused. “Your mousey brown hair had caught the summer sun and shined golden in the morning haze but it was covering your perfect little face as you were looking at your phone and hurrying along.

“I could tell that you weren’t looking where you were going and wanted to make a point by walking centrally down the small pavement, so you’d collide with me. In that moment it was like we merged into one, our souls tangled together always being intertwined, pulling me wherever you go. Your hand gripped my arm and you smiled up at me, apologising, you licked your lips, you definitely liked what you saw. I don’t really know how you contained my fascination but from then on my infatuation grew slowly and steadily. Your life seemed so normal, well, until I saw what you really got up to. I understand though, the man you live with, your husband, he doesn’t satisfy you, neither do any of the others. You havent had me yet though Sarah, you haven’t felt what it’s like to have me.”

His heart thudded abruptly, he knew what he was about to do was wrong, but why? Why was it wrong when he knew she wanted it, he knew she wanted him just as much as he craved her. The adrenaline coursing through his veins made him feel sick with excitement, this was it, everything he wanted was about to happen.

...

Music pumped in her ears, the electric bass helped her move and push through the vigorous workout. At 7pm it was all over, with her muscles burning she yanked the headphones out of her ears and realised she was panting louder than she thought. She tipped her head back and slowly sucked in deep gulps of air while also raising a water bottle and gently pouring some cool water on to her steaming face. The clear liquid mixed with sweat ran salted streams passed her lips, down her neck and into the cavern of cleavage. She looked at the watch that monitored her heart rate and waited for it to slow down as she stood above the yoga mat that covered the dark oak floorboards of her newly designed living room. She was looking forward to having a microwave meal while slobbing in front of some reality TV, the guilty pleasure she rarely indulged in, as her husband, Sam, was not a fan. He had gone on his second business trip to Paris in a month and she was tired of seeing him go. Not only that but she had kept a recent incident with a man called Freddie from Sam, which had left her shaken and uneasy but she didn’t want Sam to know the full story of what she had done. It had been a few weeks now since then and she was feeling more confident, stronger in her own skin. Freddie hadn’t been heard of since.

As she ran up the stairs she pulled off her soaked t-shirt and fumbling around with the clasp of her training bra, she flung it on the bed as she entered the room, enjoying the freedom of her skin. The darkness of the bedroom apart from the street light from outside sent deep shadows across the floor, suddenly making her conscious of her nakedness. She shyly grabbed her t-shirt to cover up as she scurried to the bathroom, feeling silly about her sudden awkwardness, ‘as if anyone was watching’ she tutted to herself. Turning on the shower and waiting for the water to heat, she stood in-front of the mirror examining the patchwork of colours the sun had bleached on her body over the years. Opening the door to the glass box, she tested the heat of the water with the palm of her hand. As she was ready to immerse herself in the cascading droplets the chime of the doorbell rang.

…

The light of the hall illuminated through the bottom of the door and the small window high above the faux-Victorian door. He could see the ghostly outline of her floating closer to him through the frosted glass. How he yearned for her, he could feel it deep in his stomach, spreading to his groyne. The ache and the need.

The door pulled open a crack, and the light behind her shone through her golden hair. She was hiding her body but peaking her beautiful eyes and delicate features around the entrance, smiling at him, happy to see him. He could see that he had caught her just in time, as she finished her workout in the living room and just before her 15 minute shower, right on her usual schedule. Her blue dressing gown clung to her curves and he could just imagine unwrapping her warm, damp body from its confinement and touching her silky, warm skin. He noticed his hands were shaking slightly, and the dirt from the construction job was still in the cracks of his cuticles.

“Yes, hello.” She looked at him expectantly, her honey toned voice rang in his ears. He held back his carnivorous glare by looking down and clearing his throat while holding up a box that he had carried down the street. Inside was a metal panel that was meant to be used for the new build.

“Alright miss, you need to sign for it,” his voice horse from being so dry with anticipation. She opened the door further to accept the parcel. As he placed the box in her hands, with all the force he rammed it hard into her diaphragm, making her fly back into the hall, onto the floor, winded, confused and gasping for air. In a quick second he was inside the house, closing the door calmly behind him.