When Muses Attack!

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A/N - It would seem that our little "love fest" (HA!) has come to an end. Sadly.

Naira - well, I have to get at him any way I can. Be thankful for Rumil. I'm sure he's a doll and not a hateful old thing like his brother! LOL!

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Stealthily he slides up next to me as I’m pawing through my bookshelf at work. I sense him and turn anxiously hoping no one else notices his presence. Fortunately we’re alone for the time being.

“What are you doing here?” I hiss at him in annoyance, shooing him away with my free hand. “I told you not to bother me at work.”

He grins evilly at me and places the palm of his hand against my cheek. I press my lips together and silently pray that no one walks in on us.

“I want to talk now,” he purrs, leaning down to whisper in my ear.

His breath tickles my neck and I twitch involuntarily, carelessly tossing the file on my desk.

“Stop that! You dirty, dirty boy!” I scold playfully.

He chuckles and smells my neck teasingly emitting a soft moan that makes my knees a bit weak.

I giggle nervously and roll my eyes around trying to see if anyone is watching my odd display. We’re still in luck and the hallway is deserted.

“What is up with you lately?” I ask. “You’ve been a lot more attentive and talkative. You’re scaring me.”

He doesn’t answer but continues to breathe provocatively against my neck.

“Stop now,” I hiss at him again and sit down to finish my spreadsheet. I make it a point to ignore him but he doesn’t leave. After a few quiet moments of watching me he starts rattling my cage again.

“You are alone now,” he purrs against my cheek. “And you know you want to write it. You’ve been thinking about it, listening to me describe it to you.”

I bite my lip. I should tell him to get lost but I just can’t. He smells so good and the heat from his body is so very nice. Besides, he’s not really doing anything too horrible – yet. And he’s right. There’s no one around. I can always tell him to beat it later if he starts getting out of hand. Not that he would pay any attention, mind you.

I check the clock. Nearly lunch. We should be safe for a little while.

“OK then,” I agree, opening a word document. “Speak.”

With an evil grin he sits down on my desk next to me and picks up exactly where he left off. He tries to throw another little twist in there at the end but I won’t have it. I give him the patented “look of disgust” when he makes the suggestion.

“Uh, no,” I say stubbornly.

He smirks. “Why not? Is it not logical that after all of the female company I would wish to enjoy the pleasures of another male?”

“That I can see,” I agree. “But I’m not dragging Glorfindel back into this. There’s no point in it.”

Those perfectly manicured brows rise in unison. “Oh, but there is a point! Annowe must suffer for the pain she has caused me,” he says smoothly.

“Dude, what the fuck is up with you and you’re wanting to make everyone suffer for “the pain” they have caused you?” I frown. “You’re turning into quite the sadistic bastard.”

He sniffs imperiously and leans back against the bookshelf. “I thought I was a horny bastard,” he frowns.

“That too,” I amend. “You’re a sadistic horny bastard. Now knock it off.”

“Just think of it, Mel,” he says excitedly leaning over to me again. “Annowe comes to Valinor only to discover me in the arms of my former lover!”

I shake my head in amazement as I suppress a giggle. He is really too much to believe sometimes. “It’s not happening. I suggest you move to plan B. Whatever that might entail.”

He grunts and eyes me coolly. “I want more ‘hawt’ sex with another male,” he insists.

I sigh. I’m not much of a slash writer – let’s face it I don’t have a whole lot of experience in that particular area – but if he wants it he’s going to nag me until I give in. I’m not going to fight that battle. There will be others.

“OK. Fine. Whatever,” I say. “We’ll do that at home. Now give me the end.”

Those hematite eyes gleam in triumph and he pointedly ignores my demand. Instead, he reaches out and runs the tips of those long elegant fingers over my cheek. I raise one eyebrow at him curiously.

“It will be over soon,” he murmurs soothingly.

The tone of his voice makes me wonder if he’s saying that for my benefit or his own.

“Will you be glad?” I ask, turning my head to look at him.

He shrugs indifferently and replaces his hand against that muscular thigh. “I know you will be,” he replies.

“Yeah,” I admit. “It’s been a long time – almost a year that we’ve been together.”

“Do you not enjoy my company?” He asks softly.

I smile despite myself and pat his hand consolingly. “Oh, it’s not that, cupcake. I’d like to be able to read other fanfic stories again. I haven’t read anything since you’ve been around demanding all of my attention.”

He eyes me curiously. “You read books,” he points out.

“Yes, I know. Books are one thing but fanfic stories are another,” I explain.

I can tell by the look on his face he doesn’t quite “get it”. I sigh and try another tact.

“I’d like to be able to read other fanfic stories and maybe write some music with the Bean,” I say gently. “So yes, I will be glad when I can have that option again.”

The corner of those sensuous lips twitch. “Not glad to be rid of me,” he murmurs thoughtfully.

“Not glad to be rid of you,” I admit quietly and cringe inwardly in anticipation. What sort of triumphant gloating will I have to endure for that bit of truth?

Surprisingly he does not gloat – well, not much, anyway. He simply gives me an odd knowing smile then leans over my chair. I eye him suspiciously.

“Nor will I be glad to be gone,” he murmurs quietly in my ear. Without another word he vanishes.

I sit staring dumbfounded at my monitor. “That’s weird,” I mumble to no one in particular.

<><><><><><><>

It takes me a little over a week to grasp that was his way of saying “goodbye”. I can’t believe he is gone!

One night after this realization, I’m lying in bed and I think I glimpse him standing in the doorway.

“Cupcake?” I murmur hopefully. There is no answer. Of course, my eyes and ears are not nearly as keen as his so if he does not want me to see him I won’t. I sigh and relax back into my pillow.

I curse him for worming his way into my psyche. He has, despite my best efforts, managed to affect me quite deeply. I frown and curse him again. He has shown me all I need to know to finish his story and yet I cannot believe he left me. I want him to come back!

Why would he not stay for the end? To soak up all the admiration he so desperately craves? It just doesn’t make any sense.

For the next few days I wander around the house hoping he will return but I have a feeling he will not. I’m actually kind of lost without him and I can’t bring myself to finish his story quite yet. It would be like admitting he’s not coming back and I’m not ready for that.

So I sulk and play my drum and violin to soothe myself. I even sew a little bit hoping that if I pretend to have “forgotten” about him he will appear and remind me. I would almost be glad to hear a derisive snort or bear the brunt of his cold gaze just to know he’s still around.

Alas, it is eerily quiet and it even “feels” different without him around. Like even my place misses him. Oh, sure I despised the hateful old thing and yet I was oddly attached to him. Spitefully I hope he at least feels a twinge of regret about leaving although I somehow doubt it. He’s probably found some “hawt” new thing to torment. ~sigh~

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