Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Pom Pom Angel: Love Rescue pt. 9


Soul’s office was cramped, with stacks of books lining all four walls, and her desk. 

“Just clear off a chair and have a seat.”  Soul motioned towards two old, wooden chairs that were buried under piles of paperbacks. 

Gus initially thought of Soul’s office as a musty fire hazard, but over the time he had been working at her bookstore, he had come to find the room a safe haven.  At that moment, with everything in his life seemingly blowing up around him, a safe haven was exactly what he needed. 

Soul took her seat behind the desk, and Gus did his best to dig out the two chairs for Missy and himself. 

Once they were all seated Soul cleared her throat. “So, Gus, what’s your type.”

“I… I don’t…” He really hated being put on the spot like that.  “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“You are a grown adult, and you haven’t figured out what kind of women you’re attracted to?” Soul frowned so deep that her brow furrowed. 

“Well,” now it was Missy’s turn to pipe in, “it’s Gus’s complete disinterest in romance that led me to him.” 

“His lack of romanticism is so severe that it could be spotted from Heaven?” Soul laughed. “Now that is sad.” 

“Hey, I’m sitting right here!” Gus could feel his cheeks growing hot. 

“So, is there any reason you’ve avoided even thinking about finding someone?” Soul leaned forward.  “If you tell me it’s because of the state of the world, war, famine, or anything like that I will deck you, just so you know.  Emo shit doesn’t fly with me.” 

“Umm…” He gulped.  She had just cut out every excuse he had ever used in the past with one sentence.  “I’m allergic to drama?” He shrugged and gave a half smile. 

“Missy, right?” Soul sat back, folding her hands onto her lap. 

“Yep.” Missy perked up at the sound of her name. 

“You sure as hell have your work cut out for you.”

“Oh, I’m aware.”  Missy gave Gus a sharp poke to the shoulder.  “He’s so far gone that he needed divine intervention.” 

“Again, I’m right here!” Gus caught himself yelling, and quickly ducked down in his chair. 

“So,” Soul sighed, “let’s start with the basics.  Are you a tits man, or an ass man?”

“Wha…” His cheeks were burning hot with embarrassment.  He glanced at Missy, who was just watching him, wide eyed and innocent, then back at Soul.

Couldn’t she start somewhere else?  Maybe shared interests, or taste in music?  Nope, she had to go right to the animalistic, sexual draw.  The worst part was that he didn’t even know the answer to that question.  He had repressed so much of his own desire that he refused to acknowledge what he actually found physically attractive in a woman. 

He knew he was attracted to woman, but he just never allowed himself to really formulate what exactly made them attractive. 

“I think he’s a tits man.” Missy nodded her head, the word ‘tits’ sounding even more wrong coming out of her mouth. 

“Well…” Soul raised one eyebrow, her eyes seeming to bore into him. 

“Tits… I guess.”  Gus could barely choke the words out. 

Soul clapped her hands.  “Progress!  Now, does ethnicity matter?” 

“Not really.”  That one Gus could answer for sure.  As abstract as his attraction was, he knew that the women he did find attractive varied when it came to race. 

It was odd, but now that he was actually examining this side of himself, he found that even he was curious. 

“Okay, so that gives me a pretty wide field to work with!” Missy seemed to jump up in her seat. 

For the next twenty minutes Soul and Missy continued to question him, and as the conversation went on Gus found himself slowly becoming more comfortable.  The questions pertaining to sex still made him blush, but when the topic was more intellectual he couldn’t help but slowly form an image of his ideal partner in his head. 

“So, what did we end up with?” Soul placed a notepad down on the table. 

When did she start taking notes, he thought to himself. 

“You want a woman around your age, who enjoys reading classic literature, but who has an appreciation for genre fiction.  She has to enjoy classic rock and folk music, enjoys hiking and other outdoor activities, or at least, is open to them.  Physically… well, you’re a whole lot less specific.”  Soul’s finger moved down the page as she listed off all of Gus’s requirements. 

“She does have to have nice tits, though!”  Missy pointed at the paper.  “Add that in there.  Nice tits.” 

“Missy,” Gus couldn’t even look up at her, “will you stop saying that.” 

“Saying what?” Missy looked at him.  “Tits?” 

“Yes.” Gus nodded, but kept his gaze firmly planted at his feet. 

“Gus,” Missy gently took Gus’s hand in hers.  “Do not fear the breasts.” 

He felt something firm, and yet soft in his hand.  His hand squeezed without realizing it, and Missy giggled.  His eyes shot up, and he saw that she had suddenly clutched his hand to her right breasts. 

“Oh God!” Gus pulled his hand back so fast that his chair rose up onto two legs, and then crashed to the ground, sending him sprawling into a stack of books. 

“Baby steps, sweetie.  Baby steps.” Soul was obviously trying to hold back her laughter.  “Now, onto our next problem.” 

“What’s that?” Gus slowly stood up, his side sore from smacking into the floor.  He gently placed his seat in the upright position, and sat down. 

“Missy, we need to do something about your look.” Soul’s eyes shifted from Gus to Missy, and he couldn’t have been happier to have the attention off of him. 

“What about my look?” Missy glanced down at her uniform, her mouth forming a pouty frown. 

“While I get the whole… cheerleader motif, you can’t go wandering around the city like that, so you and I are going shopping.”  Soul stood up and pulled her purse off of the back of her chair.  “Gus, watch the store.” 

Before Gus could get one word out Soul and Missy were gone, and he was alone… on storybook day… with a growing number of families congregating around the children’s books section. 

Damn it.  

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