These Questions
When she looks at me like this, I'm ready to fall to her arms.
When she looks like she's ready to fall to mine.
I creep up along the eiderdown of the bed. Her eyes are dark with desire,
two pools silently pleading for me, as are mine. We're the same tonight.
Her arms are steadily rested on the bed's surface, waiting for me to
approach her. I speculate, wonder what my expression is right now. If I'm
smiling. I know I am inside. Ever cell in my body twists with anticipation.
I'm lighting up all over; the solid resolution of it all finally coming
home.
My knees press softly against the blankets. The flame of a single candle
dances on the nightstand, and more shadow about the room behind us. I
barely notice. I lit them to be romantic, but I'm not sure that it's making
a difference. My breathing is gentle, as is hers. Her brown locks lie on
the sides of her face, and they only call me further.
I'm finally close to he. My hand sits a mere inch away from hers, the
feeling of two beings longing to touch mingling amid us. The world dances
in its own motionless way around us as we stare into the other, revealing
all turmoil we've desired to vent to the other. I seem to recall my body
being much colder than it is now, enveloped in that icy feeling, that icy
memory.
I'm reluctant to hold a sigh. My world's warmer now. Sun rays in all their
glory finally allowing somewhere to bask.
She has no idea what's going on in my head. Her lips are dry, and I want to
be nearer to them. Or to her face alone. It doesn't matter. I've torn
myself apart over this, over her. I have imagined her mine for long enough.
We've held out too long. If I have to contemplate like I used to. well,
it's not necessary. I'm not diving in. This woman is what I want right now.
I reach out to caress that finger near me. As soon as my hand covers hers,
she grips the back of my neck and pulls my lips to meet hers. Taken a bit
by surprise, I don't hesitate. We're capturing the other, lost in
captivation. Her hand slips out from under mine and snakes up my arm. It
travels to my cheek, stroking it tenderly. The world spins. The only clear
image is she now.
My hand slides to her waist, finding it further to her back. I lie her
down, my body covering hers lightly, and for a moment we continue sweet
kisses all over the other. Reminders of this yearning showered everywhere
among us. Her face, her cheeks, her temples, her nose, her eyes, her lips.
Everywhere.
Her hands hold the sides of my face close to hers. My arms are at her sides
now. Her feet meet mine underneath, and play childishly with mine. Her
fingers tangle in my hair. I' am actually past the stage where I expect it
to be a dream - all day during my shift. The afternoon was surreal.
And then I came home. I saw her here. Bouncing our little boy on her knee.
--
He opened the door and stepped inside. His eyes fell open the image of
Abby, staring with a smile into her baby's face as he sat on her knee. She
looked up from her position at the couch. The blue eyes from her lap turned
to meet Carter as well.
"Hi," she whispered. Her smile was subtle, full of the words they couldn't
speak before.
"Hi," he insisted back. His smile was shimmering lightly on his face.
Her eyes met the baby's again. "How was work?"
He couldn't move as he stood there. His feet barely agreed with the rest of
him. "Busy."
She smiled and planted a soft kiss on the baby's nose. Carter walked and
sat beside her, ultimately moving. Jonathan cooed at his father's arrival.
His hand twisted out of his mother's grip and ventured to his father's
appearance with a bright giggle. Carter held his hand, kissed it and smiled
lovingly toward him.
His glance turned to Abby, who was smiling at the baby. Her smile was
light, a picture pressed between her cheeks. He bent closer and kissed her
temple, soft as ever. She closed her eyes and with one hand safely holding
her son, let one hand escape to his neck to hold against her. He acted the
same; his hand met her neck, one thumb caressing her skin. When he pulled
away, she sighed aloud. His head touched her shoulder briefly.
"I'm going to take a shower," he said.
She nodded breathlessly. Her eyes were caught in his again. An instant
between them pondered the existence of another kiss, but it was decided
against as he stood up. Her hand left his face, momentarily gliding along
his arm before landing in her lap.
She watched him walk away, and then smiled at her son in her lap.
"Daddy's home."
--
Her arms are wrapped around me. She's breathing so quietly into my shirt
now. Its music to my ears. I've almost forgotten what it feels like to hold
her. And I mean really hold her. She's just lying in my arms like there's
nothing else. No sadness, no happiness. Just us.
Her skin is warm. Her fingers slide all so slowly up my back. Then down
again. Her other arm is draped over my side, hanging lifelessly down the
side. The night's gentle moonlight escapes through the window, its cue
familiarly upon us. She sighs into me again, and I kiss the top of her
head, in the midst of the hair I've grown to love.
I nuzzle my nose deep into it, vowing never to hurt her. 'She's here for
me, I'm here for her' kind of thing. I promise to myself and to her
silently. Never. Not ever.
She's perfect in every way when I hold her. Every inch of her that I can
cover in possibility. We're crawling with the presence of ourselves. The
idea of us, finally.
And she's real. She isn't a dream, or a picture that's come to life. Not
something I've only imagined and wished for like a child.
Not anymore.
She kisses me back, so sleepily. It feels like this night could never end.
Feels like the world could never end. That we can be locked here for as
long as we wish. The fingers grazing my back produce the most wonderful
feeling. I can sense every emotion either of us is letting out, even as we
lie immobile this evening.
The mass of blankets covering us play the smallest share in shielding us
from every other previous feeling we've shared. Every other bit of
confusion, secret longing, sadness. When we wouldn't talk to the other, and
when all we wanted to do was speak, but couldn't.
And now we have the chance to - but we won't.
Arms around bodies. It's too precious to disturb and we both know that. I
wouldn't interrupt this. Unless a baby began to cry.
But I wouldn't find that disappointing right now.
But I'd like to hold Abby right now. Right here.
--
Carter stood over the crib, a simple smile coming over his lips. Jonathan
squirmed in his bundle of quilt, his arms pleading to be held.
"You have to go to bed now," he said, rubbing a hand over the baby's
stomach.
"Mm," the infant managed, still wriggling on the mattress.
"When you wake up, I'll be here."
The baby's hands became tender fists, meeting above his eyes. His mouth
opened in awe at his own site.
"You're not tired at all, are you?" Carter laughed. He reached down and
kissed the baby's forehead.
Abby came through the door slowly. "Is he still awake?"
"As ever," Carter replied quietly. His eyes followed her, leaning to kiss
Jonathan.
As she did, his hand reached for hers. When she stood again, her eyes fell
upon his, and he searched for a reason to explain this sudden action.
Instead, she smiled. A real, small Abby smile. And it meant the world to
him now.
"His hair's getting darker," she pointed out, running a smooth finger over
the fuzz on Jonathan's head. "See?"
"Mmm-hmm," he murmured, his own thumb gamboling across the surface of the
back of her hand. She wasn't tense, he noticed.
She stuck a delicate finger into the baby's cheeks, smiling. "I love you."
Her arm swayed slightly for an instant, and she fell against his shoulder,
just barely.
"Good night," she said, giving his hand a final squeeze before letting it
go. She left the room and wandered toward her room.
He stared down at the vacant hand, pulling it over the crib to grasp the
baby's.
"Your mother," he whispered, "it's the most wonderful woman I know."
--
Her lips touch mine. Softly. As if they're barely there.
We've missed each other so much.
It shows.
I'm ready to make love to her. Kiss her everywhere. Her fingers, her eyes,
her temples. everywhere. Just to let her know how much I care about her,
or how much I've spent my last year caring about her.
But not tonight.
Tonight, I want her to close her eyes with me. And even though I know, as
true to a classic, a baby will wake us both - I have a feeling we'll walk
together. Both exhausted. Both with smiles.
Tonight I want each of us to fall asleep knowing that the morning will only
be better. Tonight, I want her to fall asleep without tossing in her sleep.
I kiss her, and we take turns after that. I kiss her with every feeling,
and then she kisses me back with another feeling felt. My hands are around
her body, but her fingers are the same. Browsing in the same ever fashion.
I give her a long kiss, one for each of us to settle in. And then we part
an inch, resting a forehead against another.
We're ready to fall asleep now. With body pressed to body, we'll fall
asleep.
After one more kiss.
And when my lips make one last encounter with hers, we don't want to let
go. Of anything, and not ever again. Her arms grip my shoulders for one
second and I go on kissing her.
With this lone acquaintance of our bodies, every day that we've spent apart
meshes together. A cloud behind us, down that road marked with dust.
We're departing down another road, hands joined.
--
He brushed the back of his hand above his upper lip, placing the glass next
to the sink. His feet shuffled, bringing himself to his room. He
contemplated the dark space, unable to walk inside. Every shadow continued
to amaze him, as it brought an empty feeling to his side.
Because he didn't want to be there.
He stepped outside, walking down the hall. His final steps ending in front
of her room. She looked up, her eyes smiling in the slightest.
"Hey."
He smiled in return. "Mind if I come in?"
She shook her head, that smile spreading sweetly. "No."
--
[Part 40]