Joey tossed and turned in bed early the next morning. It was going to be another cold day she noted, reminding herself to bring some firelogs in from her porch. Despite the freezing temperature, snow hadn't fallen yet. Snuggling deeper under the covers, Joey realized that the first snowfall would come any day now.
Glancing at her alarm clock, she groaned, knowing she'd have to get up soon. Joey worked out of her home, but she still liked to get up early and work from 9-5 sometimes. Once in awhile she'd have to go downtown to the gallery and set up her work there for a showing. The most recent one went really well, and despite her fading passion for her work, she was still a success. The last gallery showing had gone so well that she was profiled in a national newspaper. Despite it all, she still felt a little empty. All her success brought her nowadays was money... and that mattered very little to her. She had been relatively poor most of her life, and although it saddened her at times, she knew that it wasn't important. She could be happy without it. There were much more important things...such as the love and passion that was missing from her life.
Joey reached for the switch to her electric blanket, tempted to turn it up high, instead she reluctantly turned it off. She kicked the covers off of her, swung her legs around the side of her queen size bed adorned in navy blue, and fumbled around for her light pink fuzzy slippers on the floor. Jumping out of bed quickly, she wrapped her winter robe around her slender frame, and moved toward the bathroom.
After her shower, Joey dressed, pulling on her paint stained painting jeans and smock. She made her bed quickly and set out to her painting room, hoping to enjoy the morning quiet.
Just as she did every morning, Joey looked up at her mother's framed photo hanging above her easel. Looking at it provided her with much needed inspiration and will. Although her passion for art was fading, she still felt like she had to do it... It made her feel close to her mother...and to Dawson.
Despite the comfort it brought her, there were many times that she felt like throwing down the old worn paintbrush for the final time. She felt like she was painting for ghosts. Whenever she painted, Joey felt like someone was there looking over her shoulder... and it gave her chills. Painting had been her passion... and so had Dawson. When her mother died, Joey had fallen apart and leaned on him for all he was worth... and they had fallen in love. So being with him, made her feel close to her also. She never thought she'd survive the pain and heartbreak of losing her mother, it had been unbearable. And now with Dawson gone, she felt absolutely empty and alone. Dating occassionally hadn't helped, so she had isolated herself from her emotions. But even years later, the memories constantly hanted her.
One of Joey's earliest memories of her mother came from when she was six. She remembered how her mother had smiled and explained to her that she was going to paint a portrait of her young daughter. Not really understanding she just sat there and played with her building blocks until Dawson came over with his mom from across the creek, and he convinced her to play Jaws with him. She agreed on the condition that she got to hold the blue shark stuffed animal. He pouted but agreed and they happily mimicked the movie while Mrs. Potter painted their angelic faces. After she was done, she showed them. Joey smiled and gave her mom a hug when she said it was hers to keep. Dawson shyly told Mrs. Potter that it was very exquisite. While everyone else their age was reading Dr. Seuss, Dawson cherished his copy of Webster's dictionary.
Later that day, after Dawson had left for dinner, Joey's mother gave her a small set of paints, a sketchpad, and a few brushes. Joey beamed and promised to paint a picture of their family.
She never got to paint that picture though... Art had always been just a hobby until her mother passed away. Then one day she rediscovered it, and realized she had her mother's talent and passion. Painting made her feel special and it reminded her of happy times with her mother. It was something she did to convey a feeling, a message.
At first Dawson didn't understand her new passion, and that hurt. She didn't feel like sharing it with him at first... it was something that was just hers, and she wanted to keep it special. But when he saw how much she loved it, he became very interested. She felt a little more comfortable sharing it with him. Although he didn't understand art, he understood her passion and because she loved it, so did he. Throughout their relationship she painted or drew something just for them. Her talent blew him away. It was as if just by looking at the painting, he could feel the emotion she put behind it. He felt the love and passion, and knew it was for him. As things changed, and their relationship flourished, the paintings changed and he kept them all. She remembered how loved she felt looking at them on his walls, where his posters used to be. Movies were still his passion, and he hadn't taken many posters down, but he had made room for her pictures. She was his also his passion, and he wanted to make sure she knew that. His bedroom held a special meaning for them both...for many reasons.
Joey sighed, picking up her paintbrush. She had to get Dawson out of her thoughts somehow.
When Allie had arrived for lunch the day before, she saw the dry tears immediately and knew something was wrong. Joey had broken down and told her all about the man she couldn't forget. Allie had always known there was something haunting Joey, something holding her back from living life to its fullest... only love could do that. The older woman stroked Joey's back comfortingly while Joey whimpered, feeling the floodgates open as the tears flowed freely and the memories came back...
"I love you, Joey, and I'll never stop. Just because we're miles apart, does not mean that I won't love, or think of you any less. I truly believe that we are destined to be together... maybe not now, but someday. I have to go, but I will always be here with you. Our souls are connected. I can feel you in my heart wherever I go. So we won't really be apart, Joey. You're in me, and I'm in you. Remember that, and don't ever doubt our love," Dawson held her hands tightly in his, and stared her deep in the eyes. His own eyes brimmed with the same tears that were overflowing in Joey's.
"Dawson, don't let go of my hand... Just hold me until it's time, okay? I don't want to forget the feeling of your arms around me. I love you too... God, I love you so much that it's killing me. I don't know how I'm gonna survive without you..." Joey began to cry harder, pulling him tight against her. He gripped her tightly and stroked her hair.
"You'll survive, Jo. We'll both survive this. Remember what always happens in the movies. Love conquers all," he murmured softly against her. Love had to conquer all. There was no other alternative in their situation. He loved her too much to lose her.
"Do you really believe that Dawson? " Joey searched his eyes, "All I know is that my heart is beating a million miles a minute, my palms are sweating, there's a tight lump in my throat and I feel like my insides are going to burst."
"Yeah, Jo, I do. You believe it too, okay? I'll never leave you..."
After her breakdown yesterday, Joey felt more fragile and melancholy than ever. She was convinced that she had lost the love of her life...and she couldn't forgive herself for not trying harder to find him.
Without a stroke of paint on the canvas, Joey threw down her paintbrush and shrugged out of her smock. Maybe she'd try later... Maybe not.
After washing her hands, Joey put on a warm running suit and her sneakers. She moved down the stairs to the kitchen, grabbing a muffin and a pair of gloves before she set out for her early morning jog. It helped clear her mind, and she definitely needed to do that right now. Joey enjoyed the peace it brought her, and it also kept her in excellent shape.
A few miles later, she finished her jog with a leisurely walk, and went back inside.
"Morning Lops," she smiled, pulling off her gloves. Joey bent down and undid the lock to the bunny's cage, filling her dish with food.
She stretched out the muscles in her body and went over to the stove to put on the kettle for a cup of hot cocoa. Moving back over to the cage, she picked up Lops and cuddled her gently.
"How's my girl?" she whispered, giving the bunny a kiss on the nose. Lops squirmed in her arms and she put her back down. The bunny hopped down the hall, happy to be free again.
She sighed, sitting down at the table. Joey drummed her fingers while waiting for the kettle to sound. She looked around her house. It wasn't too big, or too small. Joey had decorated it with comfortable furniture in warm colors. The walls were white and pale blue, and the carpet was dark blue. Her paintings decorated the place, hung on every available wall. A few framed photos sat on the mantle over her fireplace. One of her mother and her, another of Joey holding her nephew Alex when he was a baby, one of Joey with some friends on the beach from a few years ago... And in a simple gold frame, was a photo of her and Dawson. It was from their sophomore formal dance. She couldn't bear to part with it. They looked so happy together. His arms were wrapped tightly around her waist, and his head rested against her shoulder. She wore a elegant but sexy, black slip dress. It hugged her curves in all the right places, and she still could remembered how his jaw dropped when he first saw her that night. It was absolutely magical, and Joey didn't want to forget that night ever, even if the memory of him now made her tremble with sadness.
"Wow...Jo, you look...look... wow..." Dawson raked his hands through his hair, as he often did when he was nervous. She smiled widely, and reached out for his hand.
"Close your mouth, Dawson," she teased happily. "You clean up well, Leery," she said, examining his black tuxedo tux, and how well it fit him.
"I aim to please," he grinned, leering up and down at her.
"Come on you two!" Mrs. Leery said, grabbing her son's hand. "Let me get a picture of you together."
"Mom..." Dawson whined, grinning at Joey.
Don't 'Mom' me Dawson, now get close together so I can get a good one. I'm sure your father will want to see it too..." Gale trailed off in thought, while Dawson put his arms around Joey and pulled her close.
"As much as I am looking forward to this dance with you, Jo," Dawson whispered next to her ear while his mother fixed the camera for the shot. "I can't wait for it to be over..."
Joey twisted her head and looked at him. "Hmm? Why's that, Dawson?" she teased, rubbing herself against him.
Dawson smirked. "Because as beautiful and sexy as that dress is on you, I'm dying to see what's underneath."
Joey gasped, looking at him in shock. "Dawson Leery, are you coming on to me?" she teased.
He hugged her close and planted a quick kiss on her neck. "What do you think?"
"Okay, ready... One..." Gale said, angling the camera at them from across the room.
Dawson tightened his grip around her waist and pulled her back against him. She gasped again, feeling something hard against her lower back. "Dawson!" she hissed softly.
"Two..."
"Do you really want to know what I think, Dawson?" she whispered as he rested his head on her shoulder for the picture.
"Mmmhmm..."
"I think although that tux looks mighty fine on you, it'd look better crumbled on your floor tomorrow morning next to my dress. Now close your mouth and say cheese." She turned her head to look at him, and giggled seeing the shocked look on his face and his mouth hanging open.
"Cheese," he mumbled hoarsly.
"Three! There, perfect you guys!" Mrs. Leery smiled at the happy couple who were inconspicuously pawing each other.
Joey snapped out of her reverie when the whistle to her kettle sounded. She poured herself some cocoa and sipped the warm creamy liquid. Afterward Joey cleaned up and headed upstairs for another shower.
Toweling her hair off for the second time that day, she dropped her towel to the floor and slipped the robe off of her shoulders. Joey looked down at her naked form, realizing how long it had been since she had been touched. She had pretty much isolated herself from relationships after Dawson. The closest she had come with another man was heavy kissing. It just didn't feel right. Her body had only been touched by Dawson's lips and hands... and she didn't want to lose that feeling. It made her feel close to him, wherever he was... She craved his touch now. No one could set her on fire and touch her as deeply as he had. They danced around sex for years, but when they finally did it, the night before he left, she was glad they had waited. It was so special and had felt incredible to them both.
Dawson let his lips linger on her neck as she raked her nails across his back for the second time that night.
Dawson...," she breathed.
He looked into her eyes, reading what she wanted and needed. Without a word he slipped inside her in a quick but gentle thrust. Joey's whole being quaked. He was inside of her, they were as close as two people could get, she could feel him and he could feel her.
Their movements began to take shape as he moved up and down against her. She held onto him for dear life and struggled to meet his rising and falling hips with her own. He grunted and pressed his lips against hers, and they greedily kissed as they made love.
Their hands and lips explored every square inch of each others bodies that night. They needed to feel and touch everywhere so that they'd be able to feel it again when they closed their eyes. They wanted it to last as long as possible. In a few short hours he would be gone, but now this time was theirs.
Joey, you feel incredible... I love you so much," Dawson sighed, pulling her back down on top of him.
I love you too," she whispered, fighting back the tears as they held each other close again.
She stopped herself from getting caught up in their memories. She couldn't bear it. She ached when she remembered his touch and the memory of their final goodbye was more than she could handle right now.
Joey went to her bedroom to change. This time when selecting accessories from her jewelry box, she purposefully avoided the drawer that kept her locket safe.
***
email: Dcreeker@bigfoot.com
