Promises

By jaykay

Completed Short Story
Send feedback: diva9802@hotmail.com
Rated: R



Our affections as well as our bodies are in perpetual flux.

~ Jean Jacques Rousseau ~

~*~*~*~*~*~


Two hearts flutter beside each other.

His, strong and steady...hers, strong too, yet more delicate.

The orange-red sign from the sleazy strip club next door flashes off and on, its lights shining through the slats of their window blinds and over their joined flesh. After all it is one of Llanview's finest establishments.

He is lying underneath her, one hand pressed into the curve of her back, the other moving

moving

always moving

through her hair, behind her neck, down over her soft warm buttocks.

Not once do her eyes leave his face as she too moves her hands

over

and

under

and all around him,

claiming every inch of his body as hers.

Outside on the street below them people walk by and go about their lives...worrying about how to pay their bills, complaining about their bosses, paying for pleasures they can't get at home... Or planning their next scheme against the world.

while inside their bodies find the perfect rhythm together

and every kiss
and every word
and every gasp

is a promise, a promise to be tucked away and kept where no one else can touch it.

Ever.

They know they can't meet like this again, that they've risked everything to be together, but they also know that they have to be with one another tonight.

They need to look into each other's eyes one last time, to whisper what's in their hearts, to give themselves to each other completely.

To be one.

Later when the time comes and they know that they must separate into two again, it feels like a dull knife in the chest, a jagged cut that goes right through both of them.

Two hearts flutter beside each other.

His, now torn and shattered...hers, torn too into dangling strips of red.

Standing at the door, tears cloud her eyes as their fingertips touch one last time.

And then they leave each other.

Alone.

He walks to his car down the street, knowing that once he starts driving, he has to keep going.

And in the dark, she watches him, knowing that he will come back to her.

Someday.

He promised.


~*~*~*~*~*~

Everything comes to us from others. To Be is to belong to someone.

~ Jean Paul Satre ~


Finis


Back to Short Stories/Stand Alones