I sat there looking out the window, rain cleared and sun
drizzled over the horizons like beams of hope touching sorrow laden grass. I
hadn’t noticed he'd walked in until the smell of spiced apricots tickled my
nose.
“William,”
I said softly. My eyes slid from the horizon to the floor. As much as I wanted
to hide it—he always made me nervous.
“I want
you to come away with me,” he said with such conviction. There was no quiver in
his tone. When I looked to him, his face was soft; with crow’s feet, I loved so dear
crinkled around his eyes. Hazel and green glimmered back at me and I remembered
why I would give up almost anything. It was neither the way he stood with
such sure footedness and confidence nor how his lips proclaimed sweet nothings
into my ear. It was that one night—when darkness fell quicker than we thought
it would and the stars shown down on us like fireflies caught in the jar of
night.
His head in my lap, I stroked his hair and in the cover of
night we spoke of things we feared. And as the darkness lengthened, the moon
began to rise; the truth came out as you gazed upward with those eyes. Fears
turned to secrets and then to whispers for only lovers to hear. It was the
night I fell in love. The night inhibitions were lost. Our facades ripped away
by the pale moon’s glow.
“Of
course,” I said and he stole a kiss.
