You see me standing there, and you smile.
For a long moment I stare back, dumbstruck that it really
is you, and that you’re there, and smiling at me. It’s that special smile
reserved solely for me and I smile back, letting the stress and worry ease, the
tension evaporate from my shoulders. You move forward, slow measured steps that
look like a caged predator, just waiting to pounce, and I know you are waiting.
Your hand reaches for mine, and I’m reminded that we’re
in a busy club, with music pounding around us, people jostling for space as we
all dance our nightmares away. You look at me with those eyes, capturing me
completely within you and I wonder if you’ve always been able to do this and
I’ve forgotten, or if this is something new. Something that I only now
realized because now I realize just how special you are to me.
How could I not realize? I wonder, and I know you do as
well, I can see it in your eyes, in the way your arms wrap around me, in the way
you hold me. Tightly against you, as if you’d never let me go, fitting my body
to yours. And I remember. I remember, even though it’s been years. I remember
because…it’s home.
“I missed you,” you whisper, and I shiver in the heated
club at your voice. It races over me, memories and hopes, dreams and realities.
“I missed you, too,” I say back, fitting my head in the
hollow of your shoulder, where I’ve always belonged. I sigh in contentment,
but it’s taken by the noise of the club, washed away by the sounds of
forgetfulness.
You hear anyway, and tighten your arms around me.
“Why?” You ask, and I know it’s not why am I here.
“I was afraid that if I stayed, we’d get our chance,”
I admit. My deepest fears, the reason my heart has been broken for several long
years, and I admit it in a crowded club. Could I have worse timing?
I can feel you stiffening, but I merely snuggle closer,
unwilling to let you go now that I have you. Real and solid, and in my arms, and
I know that I’m never letting you go. “I’ve only ever wanted to be with
you, no matter what happened. I’ve only wanted to be with you. But it never
worked out like that, and I was scared.”
You relax against me, and I know you know where I’m
heading with my bad-timing confession. I feel the soft kiss against the top of
my head, and move so I can see your eyes. Dark in the flashing light of the
club, and I think, as the strobe light catches you just right, that I can see
your soul.
“I was afraid that if we actually had our chance, that
something would happen. Something horrible and permanent.”
“Like what, love?” you ask, and even though I can hear
you, I know your voice is quiet, and only meant for me.
Shrugging, I lean my cheek against your chest again,
breathing deeply of your scent. God, I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed
this. “This,” I say, “Just this. I was afraid that if we got to have this,
every day, if I woke up with you every morning, and fell asleep in your arms
every night, then something terrible would happen and neither of us would ever
recover.”
“Nothing,” you said, tilting my head up with your
fingers, coiled strength within the slender digits. “Will ever stop me from
loving you. And we will work this out,” you promise and that’s when you kiss
me.
It’s slow and sweet, and once again I think home. Yes,
this is home. This is what I’ve longed for, this is what I’ve always wanted,
this. You.
“Stay?” I ask, breaking the kiss. We don’t move back,
afraid, I think, to put any more physical distance between us than we’ve
already had. You nod, just once, a slight movement that conveys more to me than
the shouts and wild gestures of others. Even those others once close to me.
“Let’s go home,” you say, twining your fingers with
mine, holding me close.
I smile, open and loving, and know that this is it; this is
what I’ve been waiting for. Leading the way out of the club, and into the warm
Roman night, I laugh softly. I’m feeling overly sentimental and corny, and
think that this is the first day of the rest of my life.
“I love you,” I say and you stop me near a fountain on
a deserted street.
“I love you, too,” you say, and kiss me again. I’ve missed these kisses, sweet and loving, and oh so possessive. No one kisses like you do.
Like my Angel does.
