Chapter Three: Reckless and Young

Vesavius's promiscuity and Timlin's purity.

It was another young lady in his arms on his bed that his mother dared not question. She knew what her young son was doing. She took Timlin outside, as he would often comment on the moans and heavy breathing. Timlin loved the autumn atmosphere. He loved the taste of the autumn air, he loved the color of the leaves that covered the ground, and he loved piles of leaves that covered the ground. They inspired his youth. He would vocalize reenactments of explosive situations and jump into the piles, and they would explode in the orange, red, and yellow flames that he imagined.

Regina would laugh, attempting to forget that her oldest- her firstborn- was sexually active. It disgusted her. It made her faithless in Vesavius. She knew how her son would turn out and she only blamed herself for his ways. But when she watched young Timlin, a smile would counterattack the expression the tears were leading. He restored faith in her. She had enough faith that he would become a man unlike his brother. That was her dream and that is what she lived for. 

Vesavius was obviously nowhere near the man his father was. His father was an honorable Christian Baptist, another reason for Vesavius to disdain Christianity. He never cursed, judged, nor attacked another person. He had never slept with any woman besides his wife, Regina. Oh, but he had plenty the offer. The Knepler men were known for their inherited attractiveness. Mr. Jack Knepler was a football star in high school, though he excelled at every sport he played in high school, which was every sport available. He was idolized by everyone.

Even Timlin at such a young age was beginning to hone a broadening face that represented muscularity and masculinity. Vesavius on the other was handsome, but he inherited his mother’s sly and mischievous look. His face was broadened at an odd point, but shaped to be a bit shady and misleading. Something that made Vesavius such a treat to visually admire was his seemingly incandescent green eyes. The luster was inherited from his mother and the color from the father. Vesavius was an object of curiosity. He seduced ladies of his age by intertwining them in the curiosity and allowing them to be lost in the mystery that was Vesavius Knepler. 

The young lady whose name was Abby, or maybe Bridgett… or was it Cassandra? Either way… The young lady was fast asleep after indulging in the mystery, but the mystery itself could not rest. Vesavius lie awake on his bed, kept up by an odd sensation that most would entitle guilt; however, considering that Vesavius did not believe in ethics and a conscious, he claimed nausea. He was restless, even after sex. He raised his body from the bed, finding his clothes strewn with hers among the floor. He proceeded to get dressed as she made an odd noise to signal her awakening.

“That was… great.” She smiled to him, with this desire for a deeper more intimate knowing of him. Still, she willingly exposed her bare body to him.

He smirked as he dressed himself. “You think so?”

"I do,” And then there was a silence that begged for words to break it. “So, I was wondering-”

Vesavius knew where this was going. They always wanted something more. It could not only be in the sensual pleasures that they physically desired, it had to be more! Women had to be heard instead of only felt! They could not live without their opinions and their desires heard. He did not speak of his life goals, so why should she speak of hers.

“There’s this party Saturday… and I was wondering if you might want to-” he stopped her with bright eyes and his hand on her shoulder as he sat on the bed next to her. 

She knew that there was no chance of staying in touch so he truly did not even have to speak. He did not, but he escorted her away as a gesture of pity. She returned home that night to cry herself to sleep. She was not of the concupiscent nature but that man brought out the worst in her. Though he believed not in guilt, she bathed in it for a week, before meeting a man whom carried her through her life on his back, but this is not the tale of that lady, is it!

Author's Note

Thoughts?