WOOO CHAPTER 4, Y’ALL!
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RECAP: So in the last chapter, after they finished the photoshoot for the magazine article, Christian asked Ana to go get coffee with him. Ana agrees (even though Kate is uncomfortable with it) and they leave together. Ana stares at Christian for 20 minutes and they exchange sort of uncomfortable small talk (they both ask the other if he/she has a significant other; Christian says that he “doesn’t do the girlfriend thing”). They leave, Ana trips and almost falls into the street, but Christian “saves” her and they stare into each others eyes for a nauseating amount of time and Ana thinks to herself “I want to feel his mouth on me.”
Ugh. I already want to throw up.
Here we go!
Kiss me, damn it! I implore him, but I can’t move. I’m paralyzed with a strange, unfamiliar need, completely captivated by him.
Aww yeah, starting off on a classy note.
It’s called being horny, Ana. That’s what that “strange, unfamiliar need” is. You want to bone him. Is this seriously the first time you’ve ever been horny? You poor bastard.
“Anastasia, you should steer clear of me. I’m not the man for you,” he whispers. What? Where is this coming from? Surely I should be the judge of that.
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, LISTEN TO THE MAN. And Ana listened to Christian and walked away and married a nice man and never had to deal with Christian Grey’s bullshit ever again. THE END.
That would be a much better book.
Sadly, that book does not exist. This one does. Why.
So then Christian helps Ana stand up (because she’s so horny her legs have apparently turned into jello).
He has his hands on my shoulders, holding me at arm’s length, watching my reactions carefully. And the only thing I can think is that I wanted to be kissed, made it pretty damned obvious, and he didn’t do it. He doesn’t want me. He really doesn’t want me. I have royally screwed up the coffee morning.
A couple things:
First off, How the FUCK did you make it “obvious” that you wanted him to kiss you? All you did was stare at him like a goddamned dog that got caught shitting on the rug. AND MAYBE, oh man, here’s a concept, MAYBE YOU COULD HAVE KISSED HIM YOURSELF. If you wanted him that bad, if you wanted to kiss him that bad, JUST FUCKING KISS HIM.
And second…How did you screw anything up? You TRIPPED. ONCE. And then you two shared a magical eye-fucking moment that lasted about 20 goddamned minutes and somehow that counts as “ruining” something? What, did you expect to bone him right there in the middle of the street?
So then they go back to the hotel and outside they’re saying goodbye and Christian is being all weird about it and I literally could not care any less. How do people make it past these first few chapters? They’re so boring, I want to stab my eyes out.
“Good luck with your exams,” he murmurs.
IHuh? This is why he looks so desolate? This is the big send off? Just to wish me luck on my exams?
“Thanks.” I can’t disguise the sarcasm in my voice. “Goodbye, Mr. Grey.” I turn on my heel, vaguely amazed that I don’t trip, and without giving him a second glance, I disappear down the sidewalk toward the underground garage.
WHY ARE YOU BEING SO MEAN TO HIM. “You didn’t kiss me even though I gave you no indication that you wanted to kiss me, so now I hate you and you suck.”
Anastasia Steele: The Great Communicator.
Oh good, and now we get the most angst-ridden paragraph I’ve come across thus far:
Once underneath the dark, cold concrete of the garage with its bleak fluorescent light, I lean against the wall and put my head in my hands. What was I thinking? Unbidden and unwelcome tears pool in my eyes. Why am I crying? I sink to the ground, angry at myself for this senseless reaction. Drawing up my knees, I fold in on myself. I want to make myself as small as possible. Perhaps this nonsensical pain will be smaller, the smaller I am. Placing my head on my knees, I let the irrational tears fall unrestrained. I am crying over the loss of something I never had. How ridiculous. Mourning something that never was – my dashed hopes, dashed dreams, and my soured expectations.
You’re acting like no one will ever love you ever again just because Mr. Sex-God Grey maybe sort of almost except didn’t ever really reject you. You are making a big deal out of nothing and CRYING IN A PARKING GARAGE. STOP.
I have never been on the receiving end of rejection. […] I’ve never put myself out there, ever. A life-time of insecurity – I’m too pale, too skinny, too scruffy, uncoordinated, my long list of faults goes on. So I have always been the one to rebuff any would-be admirers.
YOUR LOGIC MAKES NO SENSE.
“I’m gross and ugly and dumb, therefore I’m going to turn down all the hundreds of dudes who ask me out because I don’t like myself.”
I DON’T UNDERSTAND.
If someone understands this, please let me know, because I don’t get it.