The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The elevator was like the rest of the building…faceless and cramped. Rather like the apartments it serviced, it was just big enough to be enough.

Jason Whidby lived in this building in what one might call a flat. Or perhaps it was a studio. No matter what you called it, it was small. Room enough for a Murphy bed, a dining set that never got used, a loveseat (ditto), a gas stove, a very small refrigerator. A bathroom with a shower. That’s what it had come with. He’d added a radio—that played mp3s, he wasn’t prepared to go totally bohemian—and a small flat screen TV. It wasn’t much for a grand a month, and that with rent assistance, but at least it had a window. Some of the interior flats didn’t even have that. The view was of another building, but at least he could get some fresh air flowing through from time to time. Unless it was hot, in which case the row of dumpsters in the alley below made their presence entirely too obvious.

But. It was a roof over his head, not something he’d always been able to enjoy. No air conditioning, but he had a box fan for days it got too close. More importantly, there was food in the fridge. Not much, true, but food nonetheless, and stuff he could actually cook to consume and not have to eat right away because it would either go bad or go worse than it already was. And he actually went to stores and bought food, rather than having to scavenge for it. Oh, sometimes he still did bring something home he’d liberated from a dumpster, but at least he could afford to be choosier now.

So it wasn’t exactly high living, but compared to concrete and gravel bunks and the occasional bout with food poisoning, it was certainly an improvement.

And then there was the elevator. An elevator! He lived in a building with an elevator! And it even worked…you pushed the button, the doors closed, and the car went up. What a novelty! It was such a relief to be able to get on with what bags of groceries he could afford, press the button marked 19, and a minute or so later (an elevator it was, but it was no rocket ship) the doors would open and he could get out on his floor. It was just south of luxury. Sure, there wasn’t a lot of room in the car, but considering the hours he worked, he was usually alone, so it didn’t matter.

Today though…

He’d seen the woman before. It wasn’t a big building, nor was it fully occupied, and there weren’t many of her gender about; mostly it was itinerant men. The few women he knew that lived here were either married—poor things, having to live here—or older widows with nowhere else they could afford to go. Rather like him. His chosen home wasn’t exactly anybody’s idea of a “meet market”.

This woman though…it was hard to pin an age on her; he’d guessed late thirties, maybe early forties. As she’d stepped onto the elevator with him, he saw the age lines, the pale skin, the world-weary look. She wasn’t ugly or even homely. ‘Plain’ might be a better word. Small in stature, slender, though nicely rounded. Closely-cropped hair with no discernible styling, the color a mousy brown going to gray, rather like his. She was just…unremarkable. Sort of like the elevator she’d just walked onto, and the building that contained it.

For his part, Jason Whidby knew that he looked older than his 28 years, but a couple of years on the streets will do that to a body. But things had gotten better; he was at least employed now, cutting foam cushions for furniture. It wasn’t much, but it was a living of sorts. As to the woman who had just joined him…if he’d been asked to speculate on her occupation, he would’ve guessed ‘spinster librarian’…she just had that look. Which was not a bad thing by any means, just…unremarkable. Again, much like the building, the flats it contained, and the elevator. And the people who lived there, which would again of course include himself.

So maybe it wasn’t exactly a surprise to meet her here. He’d seen her before, had even shared the elevator with her, the only difference being that this time they were alone.

“Twenty-six, please,” she said as she walked on. Being closer to the control panel, he nodded politely and pressed the button for her.

The doors closed and the car began to rise, as usual in no big hurry to get to its destinations.

Twenty-six, he thought. One floor from the top. That was as choice as it got in this building from what he’d heard. There were fewer rooms there, meaning larger space in them. Also, the building was taller than its neighbors, ensuring that twenty-six might actually have a view. Not to mention being far enough above the street so as not to be continually suffused by eau de Dempster. She must be doing all right. Maybe she really was a librarian. Not that they made that much money, but surely more than a band saw operator. And to be surrounded by books all day! That would be wonderful.

He saw her looking at him. Not a sideways glance either…quite directly. He gave her an uncomfortable smile and was about to speak, perhaps to introduce himself. He was bold enough to do such things occasionally. And they were neighbors of a sort. So why not become familiar?

Well, to be fair, there were plenty of reasons for him not to want anyone to get to know him. Most of these were related to a crippling lack of self-esteem, not far removed from his knowledge of his place in life. It had gotten to the point where he’d had nightmares of living the rest of his life totally unknown by anyone and ultimately being buried in a pauper’s grave as a John Doe.

Who knew? It might’ve been so, except for what happened next.

And what happened next was…the elevator shuddered to a stop.

The whole time up till then, his companion had not taken her eyes off of him. Eyes that, now that he’d had a chance to consider them, were a startlingly lovely shade of gray. Maybe she wasn’t the most attractive woman in the city, but oh, those eyes…

…which as he watched, grew twofold in size. “What happened?” she asked nervously.

“It’s all right, I’m sure,” he said. “We’re safe enough.”

“Yes, but what happened?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s an old building. Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.” He looked at her. “Do you have a phone? We can just call non-emergency and the fire department will…”

“Non-emergency? This is an emergency!” Those lovely gray eyes seemed to show true panic. “I…I’m terribly claustrophobic. I can’t stand confined places. I…I usually take the stairs, unless I can’t avoid it.”

Twenty-six flights? She climbed twenty-six flights? Never mind that he was certain he’d shared this car with her before.

Still. The look on her face was convincing. It became even more so when she began to cry.

Perhaps it was true that Jason Whidby had no measurable self-esteem, but he wasn’t without a heart. He opened his arms to her and she collapsed into them, sobbing.

He wasn’t exactly comfortable with this sort of thing. That he’d been working all day and wasn’t exactly feeling fresh didn’t help. She certainly didn’t seem to mind though, burrowing her face into his shoulder and mewling pitifully.

“It’s all right,” he said soothingly, patting her back. “It’s all right. I’m sure it won’t be long. All we need to do is call…”

“…non-emergency, I know, I know. Do you have a phone?”

“Ummm…not that I carry with me, no.”

The already wide eyes grew still wider. “Oh no! And I left mine at home today, it was out of battery and I didn’t think I’d need it, nobody ever calls me anyway, and…”

…and the pitiful sobs recommenced.

Then, horror of horrors, she seemed to lose all structure and began to sink to the floor. And because her arms were locked around him—and as a necessary consequence of maintaining balance, his around her—she took him down with her.

It was a soft landing, thankfully.

“I’m so sorry,” she cried, “so sorry, I’m so stupid, so useless…we’re going to be in here all day, I just know it…please don’t let me go, please…”

“I won’t,” he said, in as soothing a voice as he could muster. “I’ll hold you as long as you need me to.”

She looked up at him hopefully. “Promise?”

“I promise.” He patted her back. “I guess maybe I should introduce myself. I’m Jason Whidby. I live in a studio on nineteen. It’s not fancy, but I call it home.”

She sniffled. “I’m Cilla. Cilla Oates. Short for Priscilla. Mother used to call me Priss but I hated it. Please call me Cilla.”

I’ll call you Goddess if you’ll just stop crying, he thought. “Cilla, then. Listen, we’re going to be okay. It’s shift change for pretty much everyone working at the plants around here, so folk will be coming home soon. Someone is bound to report the elevator is out, and then they’ll contact the Super and he’ll do the rest. We’ll be fine.” He patted her back gently. “You’ll just have to put up with my company till then.”

“Oh, you’re so…gallant.” She said it like ‘gah-lahnt. “If I have to be trapped in an elevator, I’m grateful it’s with someone like you.” Then, to his surprise, she leaned her head up and kissed him. Twice. First on the cheek, then, firmly, on the lips.

He felt himself blushing. He hadn’t been kissed in…months? Years?

She noted his reaction and shook her head. “Oh Jason, I’m so sorry! I’m not ever so forward. I just…well, I guess I just panicked. I’ve gone to therapy for years for this fear, and it’s as if my worst nightmares have come true, and I’m grabbing on to…” She stopped, rethought, and said, “I mean, it’s not as if I wouldn’t have kissed you under any other circumstances.” She gave him a nervous smile. “I certainly would. But, I mean…”

He returned that smile. “It’s all right, Cilla. You just be yourself. I don’t like confined places either. But between the two of us, we’ll get through this just fine.”

She sighed. “Oh, you’re wonderful. I’m so glad I got to meet you, Jason. I’m sorry it had to be like this, but I’m glad I did.” She looked up at him. “Do you know, you remind me of my therapist in a lot of ways.”

“You mean common, sweaty, and homely?”

She gently poked him. “Don’t talk like that. You’re coming home from work, aren’t you? I bet you do hard work too, not desk work like me. And you’re certainly not homely.” She reached up, stroked his face. “You’re very good-looking. Better looking than my boyfriend, for sure, because I don’t have one. So there.” She kissed him again. “And you’re anything but common. The fact is, you’re very much like my therapist. You even talk like him, very soft and gentle. That means so much.”

“Well, like I said, I’m as…maybe not scared, but certainly concerned. But we’ll be okay.”

She sighed again. “When I get scared, Jim—that’s my therapist—he holds my hand and talks to me like you are.” She smiled up at him. “Only he doesn’t hold me. I like this. And you’re bigger and stronger-looking than him too. I like that too.”

Uh oh, he thought.

“I hope it’s all right, me clinging to you like this,” she continued. “I mean, look at me. I was at my wit’s end, and now I’m relaxed and calm.” She looked up at him with those huge gray eyes and leaned her head back into his chest. “And you don’t smell bad, Jason. What I smell is honest sweat.”

“A lot of it, though,” he said wryly.

“I certainly don’t mind. You smell…heroic.” Another sigh. “Just…keep talking to me, Jason, please.”

“I’m not sure I have a lot more to say. My life is kind of uninteresting. I go to work, I come home, I eat, I go to bed, and I wake up. That’s pretty much it.”

“Until today. Today you’re my hero…my emergency counselor.” She kissed his chest. “You know, I bet you’d be just wonderful as a therapist. I can imagine you going through the same sort of dialogue as Jim does…you’d tell me to take a deep breath, hold it, and then let it out…in through my nose, out though my mouth.”

“Does that help?” he said. “Because I could kind of use it myself right now.”

“It does for me,” she said with a nod. “He has me do three of those, just like that. Why don’t you do it with me Jason? I’m sure it would help, and it would make me feel better knowing you were doing it with me.”

“All right then,” he agreed. “So what would I do?”

“Oh, it’s simple. Just take a long, slow deep breath, in through your nose. Then when your lungs are full, hold that breath for a count of three, then let it out slowly through your mouth. Do it deliberately. I’ll count for you.”

She did, and he followed along, taking a deep breath, holding it till she slowly counted to three, and then letting it out. Her head on his chest, she looked up at him with a pleased smile. “See how that makes you feel, Jason? It’s very centering, isn’t it? Now, let’s do it again. Take a long, slow deep breath…hold it…” another three count, “…and let it out.” A pause, then again, “Once more, Jason. Deep breath…hold it…and let it out.” She lay a warm hand on his chest as he exhaled. “Doesn’t that feel nice?”

“Yes,” he said softly. “Very nice.”

“That’s right,” she said. “Just keep holding me, Jason. Hold me, and look at me. We’re here for each other, aren’t we? You helped me, now perhaps I can help you.” She leaned her head up. “Do you think I have nice eyes, Jason? I know, I’m not very pretty, but I do have nice eyes, don’t I?”

“You have beautiful eyes, Cilla. But…”

She reached a hand up, stroked his cheek. Never did her eyes leave his. “Shhhh. Just relax. You’re so wonderful. My emergency counselor. My hero. Just relax. This is what Jim does for me, you know. He calms me, just like you’re doing. I can hold you, and I know everything will be fine. Because it will, Jason. Just relax, lean against me, and hold me. Feel how warm I am. Let that warmth pass from me to you. It’s so soothing. So comforting. Just focus on my eyes, hold me, and relax.”

Those eyes. The warmth, just pouring from her. Those lovely, staring eyes. He could feel himself unwinding…and he hadn’t been anxious to begin with! Hadn’t all this started with her panicking? Now it seemed as if she was the one doing the calming.

But…it felt okay. If nothing else, it gave her something to keep her occupied. And of course there were those staring gray eyes of hers…they were so easy to look at, so easy to just let himself fall into…

“That’s it,” she murmured. “You’re doing so wonderfully, Jason. Just keep looking into my eyes. Let them comfort you. I’m here for you, dear. Let your tension dissolve and drift away. You don’t need it now. You don’t need to be strong for me. I’m ever so much better now, thanks to you.” She sighed. “My hero. Now it’s time for you to relax. To let go. To rest. Let your body relax, lean into me now, let me hold you.”

And that was it, wasn’t it? He had taken control at first, just as he thought he’d needed to at that moment, but now? She’d seen a need in him, and she was fulfilling that need. Holding him like he’d held her, calming him. Everything was fine, everything was okay. Better than okay, even.

“That’s right,” she whispered. “Just lay against me, Jason. Let everything go. Just relax. We’re safe here. We can be at peace. You’re with a friend, Jason, and I’ll take good care of you, just like you took such good care of me. Let me take care of you, Jason. Let yourself go, lay against me. I’m here for you, Jason. Rest your head on my breast if you like, it’s so soft and warm. It’s a perfect place to snuggle yourself.”

Yes. Yes it was. And wonderfully scented too. Lavender, he thought. Nice. He could imagine resting there all day. And the next, and the next, and…

“Just let go for me, Jason,” she crooned, stroking his head, never taking her eyes off his. “Let my eyes, my body, my words, relax and soothe you. Snuggle up to me and rest, Jason. I’m here, just for you. Rest, Jason. Relax and sleep. Sleep…sleep…sleep…”

Those eyes. Yes, they would be wonderful as the last thing he would see before he fell asleep. Oh so slowly, his own eyes fluttered and closed, and he fell into a very deep sleep indeed.

Cilla Oates looked down at her companion and smiled. She cradled him like a newborn infant, humming softly, gently rubbing his back. Anything to encourage his continuing descent into hypnotic sleep.

She’d played him like an instrument so far. The feigned panic, the sudden need to cling, the references to her ‘therapist’ and the tactics ‘he’ used to calm her down. It had all been a ruse, of course, meant to ease Jason’s mind, to quietly encourage him to relax and cede control to her.

Which, by all indications, he had.

She couldn’t resist giving him a gentle squeeze. He responded with a content smile; seeing it, she sighed and smiled herself. Things had gone amazingly well, really, better than she could’ve imagined.

It had been a long time coming, this moment. For weeks now she had watched him, followed him, noted his movements, determined his work schedule.

Call it what it was: she had stalked him. But…perhaps the ends would justify the means.

She stopped rubbing his back long enough to liberate her phone from her clutch, the phone which she’d allegedly left in her apartment. Of course it was fully charged, and the message to Mr. Wesley, the building superintendent, was already typed: restart the elevator.

She pressed send.

Jason gave a complaining little moan, as if he knew unconsciously that her hand had left him and he wanted it back. Well, she thought, maybe soon I’ll have more than just my hand on you.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, the car shook gently and began to move upward.

Time to get back to the task at hand. Or at breast, she thought with a smile. “Jason,” she said softly. “Jason. Listen to me.”

“Mmmm?” he responded sleepily.

“We’re moving, dear. We need to get up.”

He sighed. “Do we really have to?

“I’m afraid so. Imagine if the doors open on your floor and someone sees us like this.”

“Fuck ’em.”

I’d much rather it be me, she thought, then she couldn’t resist a giggle. “Jason. Really. We have to get up. And I can’t do it till you do first.”

Another sigh. “All good things must come to an end.”

“Maybe,” she said. “Maybe not. Would you like to go up to my apartment and continue this?”

He stood, stretched sleepily, offered her his hand. “Really?”

She took his hand, let him help her to her feet just as the door opened onto the nineteenth floor. His floor.

They looked at each other. His eyes, wide, staring at hers.

Just what she wanted.

She reached up, stroked his cheek. “Really,” she repeated. “Come be with me. Please, Jason.” She squeezed his hand.

The door closed. The car began to move. Up, toward her floor.

“Your eyes,” he whispered. “Your…”

“I know.” She smiled. “Come with me and we can talk about them. And other things.”

Her apartment was…different. Different. It didn’t look like it was even in the same building as his. It was big and airy. It had windows. Windows, as in plural. And not dinky little windows like the one in his apartment. Big, floor to ceiling windows. He couldn’t help but stare.

“Wow,” was all he could say.

She walked around him, stood before him, took his hands. Fixed him with her gaze. “We’re not here to consider my floor plan.” She smiled. “You’re here, Jason. In my home, with me. Isn’t there anything you’d rather do?”

It was just then that a large, elaborate pendulum clock hanging from the wall struck the hour. Nine AM.

Nine attention-fixing chimes rang. And by the time the ninth faded away, some awareness had returned to his eyes.

His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again, and finally words came spilling out. “I…don’t understand this,” he said. Then he blinked, as if he were awakening from a deep sleep…which, to be fair, he was. “Cilla,” he said to her. “You’re Cilla, right? Where am I? How did I get here?”

“You’re in my home, Jason. I brought you here.” She leaned up, kissed him gently. “We got stuck in the elevator, remember? I panicked, you calmed me down. We held each other, Jason, and eventually we fell asleep.” She took his hands. “Then they fixed the elevator, and I invited you here. That’s all that happened.”

He looked around, as if he was doing everything possible to keep from meeting her gaze. “No. No, that’s not all,” he whispered.

“Don’t be frightened.” She pulled him to her, kissed him again. “Look at me, Jason. There’s no reason to be afraid. Confused, perhaps. Believe me, I understand.”

“I remember being on the elevator,” he said. “And…I remember you being there with me. I don’t remember anything else…and I sure don’t remember coming here.”

“But you’re here anyway. I certainly didn’t carry you, Jason.” She smiled into his eyes, still trying to get him to look directly at her. “Look at me, Jason. Look into my eyes and you’ll understand.”

He did, for just an instant…and then he shut his eyes tightly and looked away. “That’s it. That’s it. You…did something to me. You…you hypnotized me, didn’t you?”

She was quiet for a moment, then she gave a resigned sigh. “Yes, Jason,” she said with a nod. “That’s right. I did.”

“But…why?”

“Does it matter, dear? You’re here. With me. We’re together. The why isn’t important. The now, that’s all that matters. Look into my eyes,” she said firmly. “Enjoy the moment, Jason. Believe me, I can make it very pleasant. Very…pleasurable.”

“No,” he said. “No. I can’t. I won’t.”

She lay her head against his chest, looked up at him. “If I wanted to, I could make you stay. I could. I don’t need you to look into my eyes.” Her voice became low and husky, her breath warm on his chin. “I can do it with my voice.” She stroked his cheeks rhythmically. “I can do it with touch.” She pulled him tightly to her. “Or…I can just hold you, Jason. There’s so many ways I could do it….and you’d like it, Jason. You would. I’d see to that. It’s not important how I got you here. Really, it’s not important. You’re here. Please stay.” A beat, then, “Please.”

His head swiveled around the room, as if trying to take it all in, now seemingly bordering on panic. He was trembling.

She kissed his chest. “Settle down, sweetheart. Deep breaths. Listen to what I’m trying to tell you. You’re safe. Nothing can hurt you here. Certainly not me. Everything is perfectly all right. Here, Jason.” She held him close, rubbed his back, much as she had in the elevator. “If you’ll just relax, I’ll explain why I brought you here. Would you do that for me? Would that be all right?”

His shaking eased somewhat.

“There,” she murmured. “That’s better. Now, come sit with me and I’ll explain everything. Everything. I promise. But first, take a nice, deep breath. It’ll help calm you down.”

He considered it for a moment, then nodded his head, and, as she had suggested, took a deep breath. It helped.

“That’s it, Jason.” She squeezed him reassuringly, then she led him across the room to a sofa, sat him down and took a place beside him. Close beside him.

“You’re right,” she explained. “I brought you here, Jason. I brought you here…because I knew that you needed to be here.”

He looked at her, still just a sideway glance, not directly. “Needed?”

She nodded. “Yes, Jason. You needed to be here. And do you know what? I needed you here too.” She kissed him again. “Tell me something, and be honest: are you alone?”

A long pause, then: “Yes.”

“Yes. That’s right. And so am I, Jason.”

“So together we’re both alone. So what?”

She lay her head against his. “So, I don’t want to be alone anymore, Jason. When I first saw you, I thought you looked…nice. Nice. Like someone I would enjoy getting to know.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Why. Why. Always with the why. Why not? You’re good looking. You’re nice to people around you. I’ve watched you. More than you could know.” She smiled shyly. “I…I guess I sort of stalked you.”

He took another deep breath. “So…what did you find out about me?”

“You’re very sweet and kind. I saw you help an older lady with her groceries. You’re a gentleman. You’ve held the front door for me more than once.”

“Really?”

“Really. I remember when a cute guy is a gentleman to me.” She lay her head against him. He didn’t back away. “You live alone. You work at the furniture plant up the street. You run a saw there.”

“So you spied on me. Did you maybe think I’d find this sort of thing attractive?”

“Hear me out,” she insisted, looking up at him. “I’ve watched you play catch with the kids on the street. Not just for a few minutes, for hours. You get into it, and they love you being there. And you pick up the trash along the sidewalk.” She smiled. “You even pull weeds in the flower beds between the buildings. Nobody does that, Jason. Nobody cares. You do. You care about what goes on around you. You spend a lot of your free time in the library. So do I. Have you ever seen me there? I’ve seen you there a lot.”

“Not really,” he admitted. “Mostly I go because it’s quiet, and cool. My apartment sure isn’t.”

“Most of all though…you’re warm, Jason. You exude warmth. Not everyone will notice this, Jason, but I do. And…you have a lovely smile. At least when you choose to share it.” She kissed him gently on the cheek. “I suppose maybe you don’t get a lot of reason to do so. But you smiled plenty for me in the elevator.”

“About that,” he said. “The elevator. I remember getting on it, and I remember being here. Tell me everything that happened in between.”

He looked at her nervously. She looked back at him, uncertain.

“Please,” he said.

“All right,” she sighed. She took his hands. “Won’t you please at least look at me, Jason? I promise I won’t do anything to you.”

He looked…but tentatively.

“You’re a hundred percent right. I hypnotized you. I don’t have a therapist, I am a therapist. And I’m very good at what I do.”

“I guess you are. But why? Wouldn’t introducing yourself have been simpler?”

“Maybe,” she admitted. “But be honest, looking at me, do I look like someone you’d talk with?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Maybe. But…am I someone you’d flirt with?”

He laughed. “Flirt? Seriously? I can’t remember the last time I flirted with anyone.”

She squeezed his hands insistently. “But if you did…if you saw me walking down the street…would you flirt with me? Do I look like someone you’d find attractive?”

He looked at her appraisingly. Carefully, so carefully, so as to not allow her to lock his eyes to hers, but he looked nonetheless. He could vaguely recall his earlier summation, found it lacking. Yes, she did have several years on him, and perhaps she was somewhat plain…but what was wrong with plain? She had high cheekbones, smooth skin, generous lips. Aging, yes, but isn’t everyone? And those eyes…those eyes he still didn’t dare meet fully. “I think maybe I might,” he told her. “How is it that you’re alone?”

Now she smiled gently. “Ah, that’s the question, isn’t it?” She leaned her head forward till their foreheads were touching. “Let me ask you the same question: how is it that you’re alone?”

He was silent for a moment.

“So?” she prompted.

“Well,” he shrugged. “I guess I never had the time. It’s like I told you in the elevator—or at least I think I did—all I do is get up, go to work, come home, eat, go to bed, and get up again.”

“Yes. You did tell me that, Jason. I remember. But there’s more to it than just that, isn’t there?”

He looked over her shoulder, still not confident enough to look her in the eye. “Yes. I’m tired of being…invisible. Rejected.”

“Rejected. That’s it. You’re afraid of rejection.” She smiled. “Me too, Jason. It’s the most crippling fear of all. And I’m a goddamned therapist! I counsel people with problems like ours.” She sighed. “So here’s the bottom line, why I did all this: I knew you wouldn’t ever say anything to me. What’s more, I knew that even if I made the first move, you wouldn’t be likely to even give me a second glance. So…” She held up her hands. “…I arranged it so that we would be in the elevator when it…oh, let’s say, mysteriously broke down. It was just a matter of being alone with you when it happened. When it did, I played the role of scared lady, and waited to see what you would do.” She smiled happily. “And you stepped up, just like I hoped you might. My hero.” She sighed. “As soon as I was sure about you, I just stepped you through a gentle hypnotic induction. And when the elevator restarted I left you under, the idea being to keep you compliant enough to agree to visit with me here. I knew that eventually you’d come to your senses.” She gave a frustrated shrug. “I just…didn’t think it would be so abrupt.”

He nodded. “It was definitely abrupt. That clock snapped me right out of it.”

She lay her head on his chest. “And here we are. Please, Jason, don’t hate me.”

Now he gave her a gentle hug. “I don’t hate you, Cilla. And you’re right: I probably never would’ve said anything to you. Or anyone else.”

“But you’re here now. We’re here. Together. Not alone. So what are we going to do about it?”

“When I’m scared to look you in the eye?”

“Yes.” She took his face in her hands. “I understand. You’re scared to look me in the eye. I get it. My patients are even intimidated by my eyes. But…what if I were to close them? Would you at least kiss me then?”

He hesitated for a moment, then replied, “Yes. Yes I would.” Then he added: “But only if I can close mine too.”

“Do, Jason. Close your eyes and kiss me.”

He did. A gentle, but lingering kiss.

Already they were thinking in tandem.

Him: Nice. So warm. I want her.

Her: Tender. So sweet. I want him.

There was a long moment of silence as they slowly leaned away from each other. Finally, he said, “Cilla?” His eyes remained tightly closed.

“Yes?” she whispered.

“What…what is it that you see in me? That I can’t see myself, I mean.”

“Sadness. Loneliness. A growing despair. But…such underlying kindness and warmth. And need, Jason. You need someone who can love you absolutely.”

His thought: She’s not wrong.

“And that’s you.”

“It could be…if you let it happen.”

“If I just give myself over to you. Open my eyes and let everything go.”

She stroked his cheeks. “It’s not magic, Jason. It’s just desire. I wanted you badly enough to…” She searched for the word. “…seduce you into coming here. Hypnotism can be like that…like a seduction. But so can love.”

He opened his eyes. Hers stayed closed. “Love? Me? Seriously?”

“Seriously. Love. Yes, Jason. I could love you. And if we were to get to know each other better, I might love you absolutely…just like I said.” Now her eyes fluttered open tentatively…and found him meeting her gaze, finally unafraid. “And perhaps you might love me the same way…if you’re brave enough to try.” She smiled into his eyes. “Love is like that too. Sometimes it takes a hero.”

There was a very long moment of quiet.

“I saw you, Jason,” she murmured, closing her eyes again, “I saw you, and I saw someone I could love. I just…had to get your attention.”

“By getting me alone on the elevator and hypnotizing me.”

Another long quiet moment.

“You’ll never know what I went through to accomplish that.”

He seemed to consider that for a moment, then finally said, “Maybe someday you can tell me the whole story.”

She gave a joyful little start. “Can you forgive me?” she whispered hopefully.

Without hesitation, he said, “Yes, Cilla. I can. I do.”

She smiled happily. “Do you still think I have pretty eyes?”

Those arresting gray eyes opened very, very wide. Stared into his.

“Yes,” he murmured. “Prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” He smiled into those eyes. “Hypnotic, even.”

“Would you like me to put you in a trance now?” she whispered with just the hint of a sly giggle.

“I think maybe I already am,” he replied.

She nodded. “I think you may be right,” she sighed, and then she kissed him, long and deep, the first of many such kisses shared that day. And a lifetime of days and nights thereafter.