decision

My thoughts raced and painted various images in my mind, each one crazier than the last. My hands were clammy, and I tried to wipe them dry on my jeans. What was she planning? I saw my life crumbling before my eyes, breaking apart like ice floes drifting on the sea.

My stomach started to churn again, and I felt nauseous. Why had I done this? I had already covered half the distance to our kitchen when I caught sight of myself in the mirror hanging in the hallway. The prominent bulge between my legs snapped me back into my body and out of the fear that Loona held my life in her hands. I adjusted my pants' seat so that my belt held my penis upwards, hoping she wouldn't immediately notice how aroused I already was. Well, she didn't have my life in her hands either; I didn't need to over-dramatize everything, I tried to calm myself. Yes, she could disrupt a lot, but it wouldn't be that dangerous. In my mind's eye, I saw my father staring at the image of me, bound to my own bed, covered in semen from head to toe. I swallowed. Breathe in and out deeply. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on my breathing, something I usually excelled at. It wasn't for nothing that I had attended a meditation and breath control course two years ago during the summer holidays. Since then, I had been much better at keeping my overwhelming emotions under control.

However, it wasn't working. Closing my eyes didn't shut out my surroundings, but it opened the floodgates to my thoughts. I saw Loona sitting beside me on my desk chair, her red cocktail dress slipping slightly backward, revealing her sporty yet slender thighs. Her eyes fixed on me, she bit her lower lip and leaned towards me. I snapped my eyes open and shook my head. Damn, I was losing it. My penis twitched, and my blood started rushing in my ears again. My reflection in the mirror gazed back at me unperturbed. You've really gotten yourself into something, I thought. I continued toward the kitchen with heavy steps and sagging shoulders, like a condemned man approaching the gallows. In front of the kitchen door, I straightened up, put on a hopefully reasonably genuine smile, and with a trembling hand, I opened the door.

Loona sat at the kitchen table, holding a cup of coffee. Today she was wearing leggings and a sports bra, as if she was about to go for a run. Her gaze shifted from her phone to me as she heard the faint creak of the door. An innocent and incredibly sweet smile, the one I fell in love with on my first day, appeared on her face. It made her entire face light up, her eyes sparkled, and her entire body emitted an almost palpable warmth and positive energy.

"John, I'm glad you could make it. Please, have a seat," she said, pointing with her delicate hand to the chair across from her. It was only now that I noticed another cup of coffee on the table.

"Just a little milk, is that right? I wasn't sure if you take your coffee with sugar or not."

I nodded weakly and moved toward the chair she indicated, as if in a trance. My brain, which had tormented me with endless and ever-changing nightmares just moments ago, was now shut down, as if the sight of Loona had pulled the plug. My blood was rushing even louder in my ears, and I shook my head, hoping to get rid of the noise. Loona looked at me; she looked so innocent, entirely different from how she appeared in that red dress five days ago. Or was my mind playing tricks on me?

Loona cleared her throat and opened her mouth to speak, but then apparently changed her mind and closed it again. She bit her lower lip, and her face took on a thoughtful expression. She seemed to be looking at me, but it was clear she wasn't seeing me; she was looking right through me. I remained silent and tried to control my pounding heart.

"Don't you like your coffee?" she suddenly asked.

"Um, yes, I do," I replied, caught off guard.

"Too bad, mine is finished. I guess I'll have to make a new one." Her gaze shifted to the coffee machine behind me on the countertop.

"You can have mine. I'm not thirsty anyway," I heard myself say. My throat was so dry it could have been used to make sandpaper. Loona's gaze met mine, and this time, she smiled playfully, like a cat observing her new favorite toy.

"Thank you, that's sweet of you," she said and reached for the cup. Her open hair fell like water over her bare shoulders. I swallowed. She sat back down, crossed her legs, took a sip of my coffee, and began to speak.