The Black Onyx Pact (15 page)

«Oh my
—
Drakkar, I suppose.»
Alma and Nora relax instantly while Drakkar nods.
«Good Lord!», continues to say Virginie, «Sibylle doesn't overstate when she says that you're massive!»
Drakkar smiles. Nora comes up to him, taking his hand.

«Come, let's sit down for breakfast.»

Drakkar follow them to the balcony and sits on a rattan armchair. Nora and Virginie sit on a rattan sofa in front of him, and Alma on the other armchair. The three women look at his muscular bare chest admiring his tattoo: the black bull ready to gore. They saw the other one on his right shoulder too, the black scorpion.

Once they are seated, they stare at each other. Everyone looks at everyone.

«Who is preparing the breakfast?» asks Virginie.

Alma gets up muttering, going to the kitchen.

Nora is visibly excited to meet him.

«So», she begins to say, «how was the night?»

«Yes, how was it? Sibylle informed us that she had a rendezvous with you for last night, so we came because we were dying to know how it went. Well, I guess this time we'll hear it from you.» says Virginie.

«Is it true that she has never seen you face?» asks Nora.

«Did you make her scream, last night?» inquires Virginie.

«Yes, tell us: you made her scream?» questions Nora.

«Just leave him alone! You look like two chihuahuas bothering a bear!» comments Alma, returning with a tray of fruit that places on the table.

Virginie looks at the fruit and then looks at Alma.

«Where is breakfast?»

«
That's
breakfast. What could be better than fruit?»

«Croissants?» affirm Nora and Virginie in unison.

«Sure, and then we have to fight with the crows to eat them!»

Drakkar takes a freshly washed peach and lifts his balaclava until he uncovers his mouth, then takes a bite while the women look at him. He leans back and continues to eat into total relaxation, as if he were alone. And again that bared chest attract the attention of the women. Nora shakes her head and says:

«Gosh, he is so handsome and virile, I feel the need to touch him and taste his skin. And I'm lesbian! Enough said.»

Virginie nods sympathetically. Drakkar, instead, acts as if he hadn't heard.

«So», he starts to say, «it was a wonderful night. Your friend is a lovely creature. Yes, she has never seen my face. And, yes, she screamed. Any other questions?»

Virginie makes a gesture of disappointment.

«Are you always so rude?»

Drakkar smiles, immediately making amends for his lack of kindness. Nora and Virginie look at that captivating mouth.

«Tell me about you, girls.»

Alma is the one who is happy to answer those questions, smiling serene as a Buddha.

«We know each other since always. We lived in the same neighborhood. Despite our age gap, especially between me and Nora, we grew up together. I run a kindergarten. It's called The Tribe of the World, and is a school that has a different teaching method. Our school is attended by children of all nationalities and all religions, who are taught the wonderful diversity that enrich us. We do not believe in punishment, but in understanding; we do not believe in control, but in doing together; we do not believe in imposing, but we believe in the good example.»

Drakkar put the peach core on the table and nods admiringly.

«Congratulations, it's really interesting. I'm fascinated.»

Alma smiles happily. She emanates sweetness in a palpable energy.

«I work in a cemetery.» says Nora.

Virginie laugh, to tease her, as always.

«Not a living soul would work with her, that's why they put her with the dead!»

Nora slaps her on the neck and Virginie not only doesn't complain, but intensify the laughter. Nora ignores her and continues saying:

«It's a very interesting job and is well paid. There aren't many people who would work in a cemetery, especially in night shifts.»

Virginie nods.

«Instead, this crazy girl here stays alone in her bungalow in the middle of the night watching horror movies, while outside the fog envelops the tombstones. And when the weather is nice she spends the night playing her cello among the graves, surrounded by the cemetery cats.»

Drakkar smiles at the thought.

«And you? What do you do for living?» asks the man.
Virginie touches her long straight hair.
«What job you think a transsexual could do?»

Drakkar lowers the balaclava and shrugs.

«The same as any other person?»

Virginie looks at him with adoration.

«I love you, faceless lover! However, I work in a rehabilitation center for young people with problems of all kinds. I help them to recover and I help them in their delicate reintegration into society. It's not easy, but it gives a lot of gratification.»

«It's a wonderful thing, Virginie, my compliments.» says Drakkar.

«Oh! Did you hear how he said my name? That voice, that vibration! Say it again, please.»

«Virginie.» repeats Drakkar in a deep voice.

«Ooh! Did you hear? Say it again!» exclaims Virginie while her two friends look up.

«Virginie.» says Drakkar in a whisper.

«You make me shiver! Say it again, please!»

«Virginie.» pants playfully the man.

«Again, Drakkar, again!»

But Drakkar stops, staring in a precise direction where Sibylle appeared. The smiling woman approaches them, wearing a blue silk robe. She stops to look at Drakkar and smiles sweetly.

«You stayed.» She is surprised and really happy he did.

The three friends exchange glances, understanding that the atmosphere became instantly more intimate. They get up at the same time and leave in silence.
Sibylle goes to sit astride on Drakkar's thighs, holding on to his strong shoulders. They look into their eyes, feeling the excitement again. Drakkar unveils her shoulders, lowering the robe down to her waist, then grabs her buttocks and slowly moves her on his crotch. She smiles, leans over him, raises his balaclava a bit, just to lick his lips. They kiss deeply, languidly. Sibylle pushes her tongue deeper, desiring almost to eat him. Drakkar slips a hand in her hair and keeps her still to enjoy better that intense kiss.
«Surely you know how to give a proper “good morning” to a man. I could get used to it. But maybe it's just because I'm
‘
new
’
, maybe in a year you wouldn't even say “hi” after a night together.»

She puts a finger on his mouth, smiling tenderly.

«If you were my man, Romain, this is how I would say “good morning” to you every day of my life.»

When Drakkar hears those words he feels a strange warmth in his chest, right where the fourth chakra is, the heart one. He puts his hands on her cheeks pulling her closer to him.

«And if you were mine I would love to wake up next to you every morning.»

She bends over him hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

«I'm already yours, Romain.» she rustles.

The man closes his eyes. What's going on? That's not the kind of talking two lovers have. They shouldn't say things like that...
 

“If you realize that all things change, there is nothing you will try to hold on to.”

—
Lao Tzu

~

The event at the
Galerie d'Art Sibylle
is a success. There are hundreds of people including guests, artists and journalists. The Gallery has large colorful corridors where many people are admiring the beautiful paintings and sculptures exhibited. There are artworks by artists from all over the world, and to honor those beautiful ethnic diversity the waiters are dressed in colorful African robes, floral Japanese kimono and precious Indian sarees.

The only painting of Sibylle exposed that night it's the oil painting which portrays the man dressed in black, wearing a dark mask with a naked woman hugged to his legs. It's one of the most admired paintings in the Gallery.

Sibylle is in one of the larger rooms, where people stop by to talk, to eat something at the buffet or to get a drink. It's a huge room with mirrored walls and a glass dome as ceiling, from which hang hundreds of chains with stars of aluminum illuminated by the many colored headlights. The stars shine under the light creating an evocative dreamlike atmosphere. Sibylle is in front of the buffet, busy to taste all those delicious snacks. She is in the Gallery since that morning and she hasn't eaten all day.

Her long black hair is tied into a ponytail. She is wearing a mechanic overall genuinely stained by many colors. She is wearing it in honor of her mother, whom always wore her husband's mechanic overalls when she painted.

Jaqueline is the artistic director of the Gallery. She is an elegant woman with her head almost completely shaved. She wears a long gold dress, a pair of gold bracelets and large circular earrings. Smiling around she goes near Sibylle and growls in a low voice:

«What the hell, Sibylle! You can't come to an international art event wearing a fucking mechanic overall?!»

Sibylle is intent on looking at a puff pastry with purple cream in it.

«Hmmm, now is it black cherry or blueberry? It seems I have to taste
–
check.» she says sticking a finger in the pastries, to taste the cream. Then turning to Jaqueline she says: «Black cherry. Oh this you mean? It's the overall of my father when he was a boy and I won't take it off, not even under torture, Jaja, sorry.»

«Oh, interesting.» observes ironically the woman. «Be serious, there are some elegant dresses upstairs. Please, go and get change right now.»

«Why? Otherwise your valuable customers will be influenced by my appearance?»

«Sibylle, I would like to remind you that I'm the artistic director of this Gallery and I want everything to be perfect, I can't allow any kind of jarring or aesthetic abomination!»

Sibylle gobbles two more pastries and looks at Jacqueline trying to look assumptive. But she can't, not with those kind eyes and even less with her mouth full of food like a little girl.

«I'd like to remind you that I am the owner of this Gallery», she begins to say in a funny and incomprehensible voice due to the pastries filling her mouth, «Don't ask me to change my clothes again or you'll be fired!»

Jaqueline snorts and walks away muttering something about her little credibility in threatening. Sibylle looks at the tray of savory tarts.

«Hmm, let's see how many of these I can stick in my mouth.» And begins to eat. An old woman goes to her. It's Amelie, Sibylle mother's best friend. The woman is dressed (so to speak) with myriad of soft colored feathers glued on her bare skin.

«Sibylline, my dea
w
est child!» flutters the plumed lady, with her winsome speech disorder.

Sibylle jumps to that cry and turns to look at her with her mouth full like one of an hamster.

«I'm so happy to see you, dea
w
! I was so wo
ww
ied, deeply wo
ww
ied, knowing that you we
w
e in that ho
ww
ible, ho
ww
ible deep abyss of dep
w
ession! But you a
w
e st
w
ong just like you
w
fathe
w
, and he
w
e you a
w
e again, mo
w
e beautiful and lovely than eve
w
.»

Amelie hugs and kisses her on the cheek while Sibylle tries to chew faster so she can talk.

«A
w
e you okay, dea
w
?»

Sibylle nods smiling, her cheeks bulging with food.

«Look at you, Sibylline, you a
w
e so go
w
geous, simply go
w
geous! Oh dea
w
, I'm moved to tea
w
s to see you in that mechanic ove
w
all, you
w
emind me of you
w
beautiful mothe
w
.»

Sibylle nods to thank her, still unable to speak.

«You
w
painting, Sibylline, I want it! I don't ca
w
e about the p
w
ice, it must be mine. Who is that int
w
iguing man po
w
t
w
ayed? He isn't you
w
husband fo
w
su
w
e, it's too handsome and imposing to be him. Oh, I'm glad you get
w
id of that ho
ww
ible, ho
ww
ible man. He demeaned you, he chained you
w
c
w
eativity, you
w
talent. But now you a
w
e f
w
ee again, a
w
e you happy, dea
w
?»