Updated on August 5, 2015
50 Shades Darker – Chapter 2
So, Christian took Ana to a gallery exhibition and then pounced on her in an alley. Now he’s taking her to eat – because he’s obsessed with putting stuff in her mouth – and they’re going to discuss their relationship. Or rather, Christian is going to demand she comes back to him and she’ll put on a token show of resistance before giving in.
50 Shades Darker
He whisks me into a small, intimate restaurant.
Take her to a restaurant so she can’t make a scene. Nice.
“We don’t have long … So we’ll each have sirloin steak cooked medium.”
Ah yes, that classic fast food, medium rare steak.
“I am not a child, Christian.”
“Well, stop acting like one.”
How is she acting like a child?!
“For deliberately making me jealous. It’s a childish thing to do.”
Oh, right, and getting all moody because your ex-girlfriend hugged another man isn’t childish at all.
Christian has a point; it was a thoughtless thing to do.
Oh, for God’s sake, you deserve whatever’s coming to you.
I frown at Fifty.
So do I.
“There’s that word again, ‘moot’.”
“Moot,” he mouths and his eyes soften with humor.
Ooh, arbitrary words are funny now! Bassoon. Kumquat. Toboggan.
He basically asks her if she wants him back. She does a lot of swallowing lumps in her throat and holding back tears, and then says that she can’t be with him because last time he beat her black and blue. She asked him to, but apparently that doesn’t matter.
“Why didn’t you use the safe-word, Anastasia?”
Oh, yeh, now I remember! I could have stopped you at any time! God, what am I like?
I think furious screaming would have worked just as well. You weren’t without options.
I left because I thought we were incompatible…
There’s no surer sign of incompatibility than jizzing whenever you lay eyes on someone.
…but he’s saying I could have stopped him?
YES. That’s what the SAFEWORDS WERE FOR.
“I feel like the sun has set and not risen for five days, Ana. I’m in perpetual night here.”
I had that once. I’d forgotten to open the curtains.
Holy hell. Food.
Just put it in your face, it’ll be fine.
They leave the restaurant and get in the car. Christian tells Ana that he has a proposition for her. Another one! It strikes me that they should leave propositions alone and just GO THE FUCK OUT WITH EACH OTHER, since that’s what they both seem to be gagging for.
A couple of scenarios run through my mind: kidnapping…
He’d be a pretty terrible kidnapper if he asked for your permission first.
“Do you want a regular vanilla relationship with no kinky fuckery at all?”
Judging by, oh I don’t know, everything she’s ever told you, that’s exactly what she wants.
“I like your kinky fuckery.”
No, you don’t. You’ve done nothing but COMPLAIN about it since day one.
“So what don’t you like?”
Not being able to touch you. Your enjoying my pain, the bite of the belt…
The kinky fuckery, then.
They talk about it more – he wants to understand exactly where she stands. She says she doesn’t like any of the bondage equipment, the threat of being punished and the fact that there are rules. What she can handle is a little light spanking. Brilliant. I don’t know why he’s bothering with her.
My anxiety level has shot up several magnitudes on the Richter scale.
And after reading that meaningless sentence, my disgust has gone up several stages on the Beaufort scale.
“Anastasia, I want to start again. Do the vanilla thing and then maybe … we could move on and do some of the things that I like to do.”
If she turns him down, I’ll run my Kindle under the cold tap.
I stare at him, stunned, with no thoughts in my head at all…
Deft, accurate characterisation.
“I’ve wanted you since you fell into my office.”
Ha, I’d forgotten about that.
“You are exquisite, honest, warm, strong, witty, beguilingly innocent … I’m in awe of you. I want you, and the thought of anyone else having you is like having a knife twisting in my dark soul.”
Says the handsome Everyman to all the female readers. No wonder this shit is so popular.
She verbally tugs him off by telling him that he’s a wonderful man and it’s all her fault. She says she never knows what he’ll do next (which is interesting because he always tells her), and complains about not being able to touch him. But after all that she reaches a decision.
“… yes, I accept your proposition.”
I’m probably meant to feel joy or something.
“Touching is a hard limit for me, Anastasia … I had a horrific childhood. [My mother] didn’t protect me from her pimp … When she finally killed herself, it took four days for someone to raise the alarm and find us.”
Well, that escalated quickly.
Ana goes to sleep after that story, which you would because it’s so lovely and soothing. When she wakes up, they’re back at her house. He gives her a gift, proving that he knew she would accept his offer. But then she’s horribly predictable, so I’d have gone ahead and assumed too.
“My boss wants me to go for a drink with him tomorrow.”
“Does he, now?” His voice is laced with latent menace.
Aaaand … back to psycho Christian. Hooray for their ‘brand new’ relationship!
…he runs a trail of kisses from the corner of my eye to the corner of my mouth.
One of those things that sounds sexy until you really think about it.
I open the gift box and find my Mac-Book Pro laptop, the BlackBerry, and another rectangular box. Inside is a black slim leather case. Opening the case, I find an iPad. Holy shit … an iPad.
Ladies and gentlemen, product placement.
Jack has one at the office, so I know how they work.
And yet you’ve been around people with mobile phones all your life and they still baffle you.
She turns the iPad on and finds that the background image is a photo of her and Christian, he’s bought her an app that includes every book in the British Library, and he’s put together a mixtape of meaningful songs. She practically orgasms on the spot because he’s so thoughtful.
I press play. It’s called ‘Try’ by Nelly Furtado. Does this mean Christian’s going to try? Try this new relationship?
Although I admire how skilfully you interpreted those enigmatic lyrics, he did tell you he would try this new relationship TO YOUR FACE.
If this isn’t an apology, what is it? Or is this an invitation? Will he answer my questions? Am I reading too much into this?
Am I reading too much OF this?
I leap off my bed to fetch the mean machine.
This is what she calls her laptop. EVERY TIME she refers to it.
She emails Christian to tell him how bloody brilliant he is. He replies with some shit about kissing away her tears. Again, it doesn’t end there; they email each other nonsensical, ego-stroking puke sentences for a while longer.
I pull the flattened Charlie Tango balloon from underneath my pillow and hug it to me.
What a beautiful, touching image. She is literally sleeping with a deflated helicopter balloon.
Read Chapter Three.