Summary

The text describes a romantic encounter between two people, with the narrator being charmed and seduced by the man who came from the north.

Abstract

The text is a chapter from a novel titled "The Man Who Came From the North." The chapter begins with the narrator being charmed by a man who approaches her with red roses and sparkling wine. The man makes her feel special and takes care of her, making her feel like a completely different person than she usually is. The man takes control of the situation, opening a bottle of prosecco for them to celebrate. They then become intimate, with the man becoming more and more eager. Afterwards, they both lay down next to each other.

Opinions

The narrator is charmed and seduced by the man who came from the north.
The man makes the narrator feel special and taken care of.
The man takes control of the situation, opening the bottle of prosecco and becoming intimate with the narrator.
The narrator feels like a completely different person than she usually is when she is with the man.
The man becomes more and more eager during their intimate encounter.
Afterwards, they both lay down next to each other.

NOVEL

The Way He Looked at Me

The Man Who Came From the North, a novel. NEW Chapter 18

A note from the author:

A new novel title, and new chapter 18

When I wrote the last chapters of the novel, I saw that the characters and the action had changed in relation to what I had originally envisioned. These were changes that made me have to take action and actually rewrite some chapters in part two of the novel. The changes in the characters and in the plot are so extensive and intrusive that I have to carry this out to complete the novel.

The changes are closely linked to the characters and the main action in the book and therefore it has become necessary to also give the novel a new title: The Man Who Came From the North, a novel.

It started with red roses and sparkling wine. It was the charm turned on fully from the first moment, and I let him charm me. I was an easy prey, and he had seen it all the way from the start.

I saw him walk towards me while he looked at me and smiled and I felt that I was alive. It was like entering a new world, in a room full of light and warmth. He looked at me and I bathed in his gaze.

I thought: It’s good to be here.

I felt I wanted to be there. Full and complete. Long. I wanted more. It was like entering a new world. He smiled at me and I felt that I would be in that smile forever. He took a step back and asked me to come inside the door. I took the step into the hallway. I looked past him through the door to the living room. There were candles on the table, and it was covered for two.

He made me feel special. He made me feel taken care of. He was really interested in me.

He went out into the kitchen and came back in with a tray of two narrow, tall glasses and a bottle of prosecco. He put the tray with the bottles and the two glasses on the coffee table. Then he quickly went back to the kitchen and came into the living room with a beautiful bouquet of red roses. He stopped right next to me. I had to bend my head back to see him, and he gave me the roses with a charming smile.

I just stumbled out a “Thank you!”

He replied “Well done!” and sat down on the couch close to me.

I felt his presence radiating down my body. I felt the heat rise in me, the good warmth that makes me relax. When it’s like that I become open, I become myself. I become the one I want to be and not the one I have been for so many years — I no longer feel like the tired and pale, middle-aged woman, the unfree, she who is a prisoner in her life.

He made me feel special. He made me special. I was suddenly a completely different person than the everyday person I am otherwise.

I looked at the prosecco bottle he had placed in the middle of the table. He saw that I was looking at it. He smiled. I smiled back.

He said, “Looks like we have something to celebrate,” he said, leaning toward the prosecco bottle.

“Can I -?” I said. A bit childish idea, but I wanted to try what it was like to do it. To open a bottle of sparkling drink.

I tried to open the cork, but it was difficult, because the string around was stuck. Firmer than I had thought. I felt a little stupid where I sat. I remember it as well as it was today. It was the first time I tried to open such a bottle, and now I messed it up. He sat and watched as I struggled. Then he leaned against me, smiling overbearingly. “Well — well, well, listen — you’re a little — awkward, look here, come here, I’ll show you. You can not do this, you.”

And then he did what I was to experience so many times in the time to come: He took the direction, he put me physically and mentally on the sidelines and took over. He took the bottle from me and twisted the string that held the cork in place. He pressed the cork with his thumb, and vips, so small cork in the ceiling!

He filled the glasses and we lifted the glasses to each other while we saw each other into the eye. And he said cheers and sat down close to me and began to pat and stroke my shoulder and back.

He held me close to him and stroked my arms, chest and back, and began, too quickly, to take off my pants and panties. I still let him do it. I felt him getting more and more eager, and his fingers were hard and sore. He breathed a lot. I heard him mumble repeatedly: “I love you! Love you … love you!”

But it was not for me. It could almost sound as if he was mumbling the words to himself.

Afterwards, maybe half an hour later, we both lay full on our backs, next to each other.