Chapter 1: Chapter 1 – Stockholm

There comes a period in a young man's life when he starts to develop a deep obsession towards another person. That obsession clouds his mind, raises his pulse, slows his movements and gets him stuck into a constant state of limbo when he gets to question his every move in his own head. Day by day, he loses himself trying to please a person who's more real in his own imagination than she is in reality. 

How could he not? Who whishes to be very categoric with the targed of his obsession? No one! You don't want to doubt her, you don't want to asume things that would shatter your own little fantasy. It those moments, it's easier to blame yourself for your own actions, thinking that you should be worthy of the target of your obsession. You wish to please her at any cost and the obsession becomes even bigger.

Most people like to call that obssesion "love". But they're just hopless romantics, more enticed by the novelty of the butterflies that are gawning at their guts than the practical aspect of it. We humans sure love to think we're special just because we have emotions. But what if emotions themselfs are our defect? What if that's humanity real flaw, the things that holds us back from being the most perfect versions of ourselfs? Do we really have to balance our rational mind with all these weird feelings that overcomplicate out lives?

I don't think so. My rational mind promts me to see love as what it is: an obsession. If I were to raise the bar even more, I would say that love is the most serious case of a Stockholm Syndrome. When we love someone, we are that person's prisoners. We simpatize with our kidnapper and become willing participants in acts that could very well lead to our own downfall. How can that be a wonderful thing? It makes you weak! All you can do is be a victim and hope that this abuse is at least mutual.

Some say cold blooded reason is scary. But reason can never be more scary than what your feelings can push you to do. Feelings don't make sense. They come and go, and fluctuate a lot. Feelings are chaos. The rational mind is logic, it is order. Logic will never betray you, logic will be the same in all situation. Therefore, order can never be less than chaos! Why do we have to stand here and glorify chaos so much? Why?

"Adrian... Adrian... Adrian!" a soft, melodic, 17 years old girl's voice drags me out of my own world.

"Hmm?" I answer, covertly mesmerised by the chirping of the little bird that, without knowing, is pecking at my heart.

"What's up with you? I'm done, hand me the boxes!"

"Uh, yeah... sorry, there's a lot on my mind." I say as I hand her a box.

"Oh! What's ailing you?" she replys, as she puts the box on the upper shelf of the deposit space at the minimarket we both work at.

"You!" I was that close to blurt out. 

That would have been such a dangerous slip of tongue. Not the best way I ever imagined unleashing my tongue upon her, I might add. But her question almost begged for that response. That little weasal, how dare she! That was the equivallent of an open wound asking you how you're doing. Like a thorn in your side grinning at you while saying "what's up, homie!"

"Just the usual stuff. You know, things at home." I responded, trying to shamelessly hide her among my regular problems.

"You alway mention that, but you never go into specifics. Why are you so misterious?" she asks, as she lowers her head looking at me, while I hand her another box. 

"It's nothing, I don't want to bore you."

Honestly, everyone has their own sad little story. Or at least most people do. Life is not perfect. I don't think that she wants to hear about my diabetic acoholic father that was recently hospitalized. Even I don't feel good thinking about that bastard. I'm ashamed to share this with her, but at the same time I don't want to leave her completly out. That's why I try to be as ambiguous as I can, to share with her my struggle without letting her in too much and scare her away. That's why I've been occupying and distracting my mind with all the good stuff: present company included.

"Ok, misterious guy, have it your way!"

Her petite form is so sweet every time she goes on her toes to place the boxes on the shelf. Even tho she's already using a ladder, she can't reach it unless she tiptoes on that ladder. The snowy-white snikers she's wearing give her a charm that only her bare foot could overcast. Her skin-tight jeans expose the outerline of a small but very plumb behind. As she gets on her toes, her bottom raises up and down. It's almost like it's waving, expecting a military salute from my own nether parts. 

*Chuckle* I amuse myself on my own thoughts.

"What's so funny?" once again she awakes me from my daydream. Funny how she can make me lose contact with reality yet bring me back on Earth with just a little chirp.

"You!" this time I really say it, with a mocking smile.

"Eh? What do you mean?" she replies, as she looks at me while placing one hand on her waist.

"Hahaha. You shortie! You look like a naughty little kid launching a silent attack oh his mom's cookie jar!"

"Say what? Haha! Hey, don't make fun of my hight! Don't you know that good things come in small packages?" she winks at me, in a teasing act.

"Haha. That's not what she said!" I shamelessy add a naughty reference, while shrugging my shoulders.

"Haha. Ok, mister. Why don't you get up here instead, if you have so much spunk?" she points at me, while looking at me like I wroged her.

"No, no, shorty. You're doing such a fine job. You rock, baby girl!" I respond, as I do a rock sign hand.

"That's so cringe. Give me another box, moron!" she says with a smile.

I do love her assertiveness. She always likes to be in the front line. This shorty is not much of a damsel in distress. Some girls let the guys take the lead, lightly assisting them on the side. But not her. She's the one picking up a direction, draging me after her, leading up the charge. I can't say I'm normally a pushover, but this girl could make me follow her smilingly into the deepest parts of hell. And most people still call this love? Damn it! My rational brain sure is all bark and no bite! Here I am, looking down of people that do the same thing as I am!

This feeble looking being, with tanned skin, straight and long black hair, brown eyes, thick upper lips and thin slender body, has cast a spell of silance over my rational brain. Sometimes I wonder if she really is a Witch.

"Ouch!" she lets out a whimper.

"What?" I snap out of my thoughts and I see her loosing her balance. 

"Aaah!" she screams, while I catch her as she fals down from the ladder.

"Are you ok?" I say, as I look to see what's the problem, while I lay her down.

Her hand is bloody. She cut her finger in one of those damned boxes. I told her to be careful many times. Those boxes have a sharp edge to them, if you're not careful you easily can get cut. Even I was close to do just that a few times around.

"Let me see. It's just a small cut, but it sure bleeds a lot."

"No! I can't stand... blood. When I see blood... it makes me sick in my stomach." she pants with a pale face.

Really? That caught me by surprise, as I never knew that someone could be so week to blood. This whole thing seems more that a just a girl exagerating a small cut. If she were a man, I would have suspected her of being a soy boy. But her fear feels real, tragic. Yet, as tragic as it is for her, I feel a little happy to discover this weak side of her. A side that needs my help and protection looks so sweet.

"Don't worry, I'm here. Victor! Victor, get over here!" I scream for help as I comfort her. 

I take her hand and raise it towards my face. I place her finger in my mouth, resting it on the softness of my wet tongue. I once heard from one of my cousins that human saliva is very benefic for a wound. So I did just that. I feel the metalic taste of her blood in my mouth. It's so erotic to have her thin and long finger on the tip of my tongue. Once again, this is not how I imagined her being at the mercy of one of my organs.

"W-What... are you..." she mumbles.

"Shhh!" I sush her.

"What's going on here?" asks a bewildered Victor, as he enters through the storage door and finds us in this weird circumstance.

"She cut her finger and she has a fear of blood. Quickly, go get the first aid kit!" I say, as I take her finger out of my mouth and I wrap it in a wet tissue I pull from my pocket.

I always carry both normal tissues and wet ones on me. It's a good habbit of mine, since you never know when it my come in hand. The wet one is better now, since it doesn't stick to the cut.

"Here, I found it!" Victor returns with the first aid kid.

"Get me some water!" I tell him, as I see that her lips have become dry.

"On it!" he runs back out.

I sprinkle some Rivanol on her wound and bandage her finger. Now she can't see any more blood. Victor comes back with a bottle of water, and I help her take a few feeble gulps from it.

"Easy, easy, just enough to moist your lips" I say to her.

"Thanks..." she softly responds.

"Look after her Victor, I'll go talk to the boss."

"Sure."

I make my way out of the store, as the boss and another coworker, Cristina, were busy putting up some promotional pannels outside.

"Boss, there's an emergency! Can me and Diana leave a bit erlier today..."

"Have you guys finished all the work from the storage?" Cristina interrupts me, just I was about to explain why I was asking for an early leave.

"Not yet, there's still a bit left. I will talk to Victor..."

"Alt least finish it before, then you can go." she interrupts me a second time.

First time I let it go, but she keeps getting on my nerve. Our boss is a very nice guy, but Cristina is the most annoying person from work. Usually there's only me, Victor, Diana and Cristina at the store. The boss only comes in when he has to do something specific and doesn't stay very long. When he's not around, he leaves Cristina in charge. We hate her, because she loves being bossy and is unreasonably strict. They think we don't all know, but Diana once saw Cristina and the boss make out in the deposit room. That's why our boss gives her that much leeway. For the love of God, how did he even got involved with such a bitch? 

"Please, don't interrupt me again! I was talking with our boss." I raise my voice at her, annoyed.

"He would have told you the same thing, you know. Unless there's someone's dying, I don't see why you guys can't finish your work!" she persists.

"Actually, there is. Diana cut her finger in one of the boxes and she has a strong fear of blood. She literaly looks like she's dying. That's what I was trying to say!" I say, as I'm trying my best to keep my calm.

"Eh, from just a tiny cut? She such a princess!" Cristina mocks her.

"You..." I was about to blow off.

"Stop it, guys... How is she?" says the boss as he first looks at Cristina then turns his head towards me.

"She's fine, she's a lot better now. I used the first aid kit."

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"Let me see." says the boss as he enters the store.

When we go in, we find Diana sitting on a chair in the boss's office. She's a lot better now, but it's still visible that she had a big shock.

"Boss..." she mumbles, still not completly recovered.

"Hey, there! Get some rest, you can't go nowhere until you're back on your feet! Adrian will take you home, after he and Victor will finish the job in the in the storage room. Cristina you take the cash register in Victor's place" the boss orders us around.

"Ok." says Cristina as he leaves.

"I'll call a taxi!" I state, as I reach for the office phone.

"No! A small car would only... make it worse. I will rather walk!" Diana stops me.

"Ok, I will be right back. Victor, let's go, there's not much work left! If we speed it up it won't take us too long."

"Sure, I'm on it!"

"Yeah, you guys go. I will watch over her." adds the boss.

***

After we finished all the work, I accompany her on her way home. She's still feeling weak and she walks very slow, but at least she's moving on her own feet.

"Here, grab on, princess! It is my time to shine and save the day!" I smirk at her as I stretch out my elbow so she can lock her arm on my own.

"Heh. Yes, Sir Adrian, my dutiful knight!" she's teasing me, with a weak smile.

We walk, as she's clutching my arm, towards the subway.

"My God, you scared me big time! What's up with that? I never seen someone so hurt from a little bit of blood. And I've seen my fair share of blood in just my 18 years of life." I mistakenly blurt out.

"Yeah, you bloody beast. I'm sure you were bapthised in blood. Hahaha!" she laughts at my exaggerated remark.

"Ok, ok, you don't have to go that far. It was just a poor choice in words, the cringy feeling I got after I said that is enough." I chicken out.  

How would she feel if I told her I even got stabbed twice or that I knocked someone's teeth a few times in my life?

"Hahaha! It's... called Hemophobia. It's a medical condition I got since I was young. It used to be even worse than now, when I was little."

"Even worse than today? Girl, you almost died!" I almost couldn't belive it.

"Yeah, once I was bedridden for several months."

"You're shitting me, right?" she surprised me once more.

"Nope!" she sighs.

"Well, is it curable?"

"Maybe, I mean my trauma did get better over the years. At least now I don't need to lay in bed for months."

"What Trauma? If you don't mind me asking. I mean..."

"Sure... When I was a kid, my parents let me home alone one day. We had this new style of metal sheet sink in our kitchen. I don't really remember how, but I got myself a serious cut as I hit my head on the underneath sharp edge of that metal sink. I have blurry memories of me putting my hands on my head. My hands were completly red. When my parents came back home, they found me passed out in a bloody pool."

"Holy shit, they must have been scared shitless! I can't even imagine how would someone feel when they find their kid in that state." I lament.

"Yeah. The decor alone sounds like a murder scene..." she said as she fell quiet all of a sudden.

"Well, at least you survived. Then you met me and life made sense once again. Right? I do have that effect on people." I jokely said, to cheer her up and break the gloomy silence.

"Haha. Oh, yeah. Having a goofy coworker is a lot of fun, expecially when he messes around and you end up doing most of the work!" she tilds her head at me.

"Hey, hey! You call it messing around, I call it assesing the situation. I'm just being nice and respecting the seniority. You've been there longer than I. It's your duty to show me how to do things properly."

"Yeah, one month before they hired you. That's how much more experience I got."

"That's more than enough!"

"Heh! Aren't you just taking advantage of my poor little self?"

"Stop kidding around! If someone heard you, they would believe you."

"Haha" she laughs.

"You're not giving me any chance. All I'm left to do is do things at my own pace."

"Come on, but If I don't do nothing I get bored."

"Yeah, but if we do stuff too fast they're gonna think just one of us is enough. Do you want them to fire you? Haha!"

"Why me tho? I'm the one doing most of the work. They should fire you!"

"I don't know, Cristina doesn't really like you that much. I totally see her making her case against you, if one of us get to be sacked. I'm sure the boss would be susceptible to her suggestion, since she's the one stroking his balls."

"Hahaha! You do have a point. She hates me for catching them in the act."

"Why do they even hide it, tho? Is it a work place policy, or what?"

"Nah, I don't think so. Probaly she's ashamed to be seen with him, haha. "

"Seriously? Is that normal for a girl to be ashamed with her boyfriend?"

"If she doesn't like him, yes. She's just using him so she can boss us arround. Or maybe they're not even dating. "

"You mean they're only having sex or something?"

"Yeah, that's also common nowdays. It's called friends with benefits. One of my girlfriends..."

We enter the subway as she tells me about how one of her friends has this type of arrangement with an older guy and she's totally happy with having just casual sex.

"Let's sit over there" she says to me, when we get inside the train.

"Sure, it's gonna be a long ride. Couldn't you find a job more close to home?" I ask, as we sit down.

"I go to school near our work place. It's easier to go diectly to school from work or vice versa, depending on our shift." she says, resting her head on my shoulder, as she goes silent.

She smells nice. I love how she got used to be so upclose and personal with me in just a few hours. I just walked with her on my arm and now she's resting her head on my shoulder. This is starting to look like I'm getting the boyfriend experience. I'm sure the people around think we're a sweet lovely couple.

Would this really be my time to shine? Does she sees me in a new light now? I heard from her she lives alone, as her prents work abroad. Would she invite me in for a cup of coffe? I mean, that's what girls do when they like you, right? I've seen that a lot in the movies. They invite him in their house and one thing leads to another, as they end up having sex.

No way, right? It's to unrealistic to expect sex right away, even as a personal fantasy. But making out at her house doesn't seem completly unfair to dream off. Hehe! It would be such a nice thing!

As my nose is assaulted by Diana's sweet girly fragrance, I start fatasizing about making out with her. My young blood is pumping through my veins going all into the worst place. I put my backpack over my lap, to better hide the high vascularity taking place in my pants.

***

We exit the subway and we walk towards her building. She's much better now, she can walk on her own. But, surprisingly, she still grabs on my arm. 

"It's that building over there. I live on the 7th floor." she says, pointing with her fingers at an apartment building located a few hundreds of steps away.

"Oh, nice! You live so close to the subway station. Must be convenient."

"It is... Say, why don't you come up with me. I have some limonade in the fridge. It's on me. It's the least I can do, since you helped me so much!"

Holy shit, don't tell me my fantasy became reality. Does she really wants to make out with me? Would I be a fool to expect something out of this?

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