Chapter 21

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           Thereislighteverywhere.Bright,warm,piercinglight,andIendeavortokeepitatbayforafewmorepreciousminutes.Iwanttohide,justafewmoreminutes.Buttheglareistoostrong,andIfinallysuccumbtowakefulness.AgloriousSeattlemorninggreetsme—sunshinepouringthroughthefull-heightwindowsandfloodingtheroomwithtoo-brightlight.Whydidn’tweclosetheblindslastnight?IaminChristianGrey’svastbedminusoneChristianGrey.

           IliebackforamomentstaringthroughthewindowsattheloftyvistaofSeattle’sskyline.Lifeinthecloudssurefeelsunreal.Afantasy—acastleintheair,adriftfromtheground,safefromtherealitiesoflife—farawayfromneglect,hunger,andcrack-whoremothers.Ishuddertothinkwhathewentthroughasasmallchild,andIunderstandwhyheliveshere,isolated,surroundedbybeautiful,preciousworksofart—sofarremovedfromwherehestarted…missionstatementindeed.Ifrownbecauseitstilldoesn’texplainwhyIcan’ttouchhim.

           Ironically,Ifeelthesameuphereinhisloftytower.I’madriftfromreality.I’minthisfantasyapartment,havingfantasysexwithmyfantasyboyfriend,whenthegrimrealityishewantsaspecialarrangement,thoughhe’ssaidhe’lltrymore.Whatdoesthatactuallymean?ThisiswhatIneedtoclarifybetweenustoseeifwearestillatoppositeendsontheseesaworifweareinchingclosertogether.

           Iclamberoutofbedfeelingstiffand,forwantofabetterexpression,wellused.Yes,thatwouldbeallthesexthen.Mysubconsciouspursesherlipsindisapproval.