Author: Chauni
Email: asukalangley2nd@yahoo.com
Notes: Mm, something original, or kind of at least. This is dedicated to PC, my beautiful Muse
and my soulmate. I love you.
Give Me Meaning
Post-coital bliss, where the hormones slipped along
one’s veins as the adrenaline fades, rolls over and is sucked up like a glass
of ice water in hell. Hurried little breaths squeezing and begging, caught and
captured, precious butterflies on borrowed time with human touch on their
wings. And sweat… how beautiful it looks against her skin, crystal cut,
diamonds all smoothed out and polished beneath the simmer of a low flame
flickering in through slats of my blinds.
It’s the morning, early morning.
She’s been here for four months now; well, four months, seven days, fourteen
hours and thirty-three minutes. Obsess much? Me? Never. But can you blame me?
Nothing’s been the same since she’s gotten here, since I spotted her in the
crowded airport like in one of those clichéd movie scenes were time slows down
and eyes meet. Some woman was walking by me and I could watch her skirt
flickering in the movements, slave to motion. That guy was talking on his
cellphone, then glaring as someone ran into him without so much as an apology.
A mother was having a hell of a time with her bratty toddler as he tried to
ride the baggage claim belt back into the hidden metal middle.
But it was that delicious
television snow as I just stared at her, such a sweet beautiful movie. Someone
told me once that it was clichéd for a reason, and I think I was finally
starting to understand it. But then again, I was never too quick on the uptake,
was I?
Don’t answer that.
I don’t remember which one of us
took the first step, which one of us cut the distance down to nothing, but
looking back, I think it was mutual like most things with us. I murmured her
name as I slid my arms around her thin little shoulders, not her real name but
the one I’ve always known her by. Names are nothing but a series of letters
anyway; we’re the ones that assign the true value to them, and the value I
assigned to a pair of letters, well… they were priceless.
I couldn’t wait until we were
alone. Well, I could have, but frankly, I didn’t want to, didn’t
want to wait another second. It had been two years (two years and ten months
from the time we started initially speaking, actually), an eternity that had an
end, a final destination that led me right here, in this skin, in these
footsteps. My thin fingers (two rings on my left hand that my daddy gave me
four years ago) slid into her hair, just holding her there for a moment as my
doe-eyes glassed over.
She’s always been the only
person alive to make me cry happy tears, that crystal fable that people talk
about after reading those romance novels that can’t be real, but buy anyway.
She’s making me do it again, that savoring bliss that is impossible to hide
because of its power and consumption. But in the end, I don’t care, which is a
weird feat, considering I normally hate people watching me so raw, so naked and
open.
But right there, in the nucleus
of all those hurrying people, the bustle of the ignorant, I tasted the lips of
my soulmate for the first time, that sweet beauty that transcended words.
Someone walked by and muttered
something about “dykes”; I didn’t care. After all, in logical understanding,
why should I? I was complete, that satisfying taste of a heart that I had been
waiting all my life to find. If society didn’t like it, faceless strangers that
I would never meet again, well they could go fuck themselves, right? Right.
This, this right here, in her
arms and her quiet peace, this was what dreams paled to, what Heaven aimed to
be but fell short. This was the sweetness of completion, the kindness of a set
of eyes I was possessed by since I first gained sight.
I trailed off the kiss, ending
with several lighter ones, small and affectionate, little “love you"s without
words. I slid my hand from her hair (so long!), and slip my fingers between
hers as we headed to gather her bags. There’s a lot; she’s here to stay.
I refused to let go of her grip, as if the crowd might converge
like an angry mob from some B movie and steal her from me. They couldn’t, of course, and it was a silly
thought. Two years. Two years that didn’t look like much back then, but seemed
like an eternity in hindsight. And nothing would ever put another two years
between us again.
But that was all four months and
seven days ago, one lifetime in a series of many, most of which I feel like I’m
rediscovering now, a new one each day. I can feel her heart pounding through us
both as we lie on our sides facing one another, a lifeline, a single vessel
that carried the weight of our love. Her fingers are twined in the bottom of my
hair, twirling it around in tired little motions, and I find myself doing the
same to hers. She has such nice hair…
I should get up and take a
shower, should become a functional member of society, even if it is
Saturday and I don’t have anywhere to be within the next six hours. I should
clean, or make her breakfast, or just…something. I should, I should, I should,
and I will in jus--
Mmm, but she’s tugging me a
little closer, enough that I share in the warmth and the scent and whole damn feel
of her, lose myself in it like every day. I’m smiling, and I’m doing that
everyday too. Funny, how much things have changed since I’ve met her, the piece
my soul was crafted for.
“Stay, please,” she murmurs in
her soft, alluring accent, tugging slightly harder on my hair as if to plead.
Not that it takes much to keep me in bed, mind you; just a few sleepy words, or
a kiss on the corner of my lips, and I’m rooted in my spot for another hour at
the very least.
“Mm, since you asked so nicely,”
I whisper back, ending with a little giggle. She likes my giggle, but I’m
always afraid that it’s annoying, high and flighty, even though she assures me
it’s not. I’m so hard to convince sometimes; too stubborn for my own good.
But not now. Now, I’m all too
eager to slip in closer, to catch her lips on an upstroke, and linger beneath
the warm covers for a few more hours.
After all, what are a few hours
when the rest of our lives are whispering of an eternity that can never divide
the united?