I hate being away from the city. I know some would say they miss the noise or the way downtown never shuts off, but not me. New York is always a cacophony of sounds and lights and entertainment. While I do miss those things, for me it is deeper and full of primal needs that I wish I could explain.
Empty holes, as Jade would say.
Empty holes or not, the need I have for her makes me feel weak. I hate the feeling. I have trained too long to feel helpless beneath her. To feel weak.
I’ll be flying back home in the next few days, and although London has been productive, the job should be done by tonight. I’ll be glad to get back to the lights and my apartment in Manhattan. It’s been too long. I need to get back to the search and my attempt to quench the somewhat desperate need to find her, even though I am afraid to. For, if I find her, that means my side of the deal must be paid.
But I can’t stop looking, either; not while my blood is calling for hers.