Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Our massive tree takes up a whole corner of the living room and reaches all the way to the ceiling. We set it up at the start of December, as that was what Eli wanted, but we’ve been making decorations for it since summer, and I’m proud to say it’s paid off. The theme is celebrating our life in Alaska, so we went with mostly blue and silver. We have handmade paper chains, painted baubles, cut-outs of seals and moose stuck to cardboard, and lots of wooden stars.
The decorations are also all over our house, and I loved hanging them all up with Eli. We’re building the kind of home I’ve never had. The kind Eli lost and can get back now we’re together.
As a trained killing machine I never thought I’d enjoy gluing together snowmen out of felt pom-poms, but it’s exactly what I need to soothe my soul.
“How is it going?” I ask, placing the remote next to a wreath Eli weaved only a week ago. He is so talented when it comes to all things craft and DIY. He puts me to shame with both a glue gun and a drill, but since the big jobs often require two people, I’m happy to be ordered around.
“Almooost there…” he says, leaning over the table, and staring into a mirror. “Done!” The brown contact lens slots into place, hiding his natural bright gray.
“Just let me know if you need to remove it,” I say, approaching him through the spacious living room.
It’s modern, with clean lines and lots of wooden elements, but all the personal touches Eli added while recovering from plastic surgery are what truly give our place personality.
One of the walls is painted in a lattice of abstract patterns, and while I wasn’t sure about that choice when I initially followed Eli’s vision, I now appreciate how it livens up the vast space furnished with comfortable modern furniture. This is where we watch movies, where we read books, and sometimes even do crafts together. Where we fuck like bunnies when the upstairs bedroom feels too far away.
To the right is our open-plan kitchen, with a huge island that allows us to work together without arguing over one of us blocking the other’s way. Additionally, the counter is at a very convenient height for our favorite non-cooking purposes, so… well, let’s say I seize every opportunity to feel like it’s Friday.
I never imagined I could be this happy here. Only now I see that. I expected peace. I thought that every now and then I might have someone over for sex, or that freedom would mean no orders from Sullivan, but before Eli, I never got to experience what that would be like.
With Eli, it’s more than I could have imagined. Our life is not always peaceful, and that’s the beauty of it. Sure, sometimes we get cozy on the couch, make some boring instant noodles, or watch birds from the porch, but Eli is so active it’s usually not long between one burned pan apocalypse and a day-long rant about something going ‘wrong’ on the TV show we’re watching.
I love that chaos, it makes me feel alive. Like I’m important to him. I can gut a fish for him so he doesn’t gag over it, I’m in charge of our boat, I clean the living room when his paper crafts get out of hand, and I always make sure all the candles are put out before we go to bed.
I wouldn’t have to do most of that if he wasn’t here. But I love that I do. He’s my perfect match, makes me laugh every day, fulfills my deepest desires, showers me with praise, and without him here, my life would be comfortable but... empty. Colorless. With no purpose.
I’m unsure whether I communicate it to him well enough, but he did save me in more ways than one, and I will bend over backwards so he never has any regrets.
One of the sacrifices he needed to make for us both was to have his facial features altered. The surgeon did an outstanding job, altering my man’s face enough that he’s no longer recognizable as Elijah Ward, but I miss the slightly bulbous tip his nose used to have. Still, if he was to start a new life as Elijah Reed, the intervention was necessary. A year on, he is fully healed, and I’d never be able to guess he’s had anything done if I didn’t know.
We frequently cook together too, and thanks to the nutritious meals and exercise outdoors he’s also filled out and grew a bit sturdier, which makes him even less recognizable to the average onlooker.
“I’m sure the lenses will be fine.” He kisses me in passing and rushes to the corridor to get snow boots on.