What am I doing?
I am sitting out here in the freezing cold, basking in the clean moonlight. I am waiting for someone. I am getting a hunch, a feeling- I am... crazy.
It's as if this light beckoned me out here with its graceful incandescence. It shed itself through the window of my silent, dank room. It was refreshing, and it was then that I could not shake a feeling that a certain someone was going to walk straight through my backyard gate to spend the night with me. With me, of all people, out on this bare and chilling pebble path, right in front of the illuminated pool and overhanging trees. Those trees cast shadows of a flowery kind across the patio- something eerie, yet intriguing at the same time.
I looked up at the stars. They were scattered lackadaisically across the royal blue sky, as if dropped by a goddess who hurried off without a care. Wish I was her.
As I was contemplating all of this, I missed the familiar creak of the gate. I was still lost in thought when I heard the faint rustle of feet trampling grass. My head snapped up to see my visitor. His figure was a soft silhouette against the brilliant light of the moon. Without thinking, I got up to my feet and we walked towards each other. For some odd reason, we knew exactly what to do.
Each step led me closer to him until our faces were within only a few inches of each other's. I don't know how I knew that he was the one. I just knew.
I traced the contours of his face- the butter-smooth skin, the nearly faultless lips, the soft black hair. As my fingers found their way back to his lips, I felt him smile. Looking up at his eyes, I noticed no interruption in the gentle skin that closed over them. It was as if his eyelids were shielding him from this delicacy, as if he would go blind from too much delight. I placed my sole thumb in the middle of his lips the way I would put a postage stamp on a letter. "Keep these sealed," I whispered. His smile widened. His eyes opened.
He touched my cheek lightly with the back of his hand, and I swear I would have lost my balance had I not anchored my foot behind me.
Now he put his palms evenly on my face. I could see a glimmer in his eyes, one that said all that we felt- surprise, relief, excitement, adoration.
"Chocolate eyes..." he trailed, an echo of an earlier conversation that day.
He leaned in, tilted his face, and slowed to a halt sheer millimeters from my awaiting lips. What was he thinking? My heart raced and I began to think the worst. But then he took my hand, intertwining his fingers in mine. I always wondered what those spaces were for...
With grace, he led me to the place where I had recently sat and sat down, himself. I joined him tentatively, and shook and tingled all over. What move would he make next?
He leaned to face me now, and I could finally see his face. Though I had been sure of who it was before, it was a relief to reassure myself of my choice- and his.
The black hair fell around the top rim of his black glasses. His nose accentuated his face. His lips were those of an angel's. The skin surrounding his lips was unbelievably smooth and formed sweetly around his smile. His teeth weren't completely white, but their alignment was flawless. It was a sort of half smile, and I could tell distinctively how suggestive it was.
His knowing hands found their way to the nape of my neck, and he silently reeled me in, that smile never disappearing.
Which way do I turn? I thought. Do I close my eyes before, or during? When do I open them? How do I know when to pull away, or when it's going too far? I couldn't fathom the possibility of coming across as experienced, but somehow I did.
Indescribable is the only thing I could say to even come close to describing that kiss.
When I pulled away (with more longing than I'd ever felt before), he unhesitatingly shifted me into his chest and held me there. I was warm instantly. I can't even depict the joy that that one simple gesture brought me.
Barely a word had been said this entire time, but then again, could words envelope these feelings?
He got up again, slowly, and took both my hands in his, pulling me up effortlessly. His right hand's fingers interweaved with my left's and he led me beyond the gate.
It wasn't late enough for the Christmas lights to go out yet, so in the meantime they created a luminary wonderland for us.
Swinging arms, giving each other occasional kisses on the neck- that's what first love is. The buzz in each of our bodies never slowed. This was new, this was great, this was real. He was all mine, and I was all his. Oh goodness, this was good.
Eventually (and against my will), the Christmas lights began to wink out. Our evening was slowly dying.
I felt something hit my head. It was wet. Another hit my bare arm and melted. Snow! More and more snowflakes began to twirl and flutter and dance to the ground, where they stuck.
He stopped. So did I. I had never felt so inclined to do every little thing just as someone else did. Not that I didn't like it; I was completely willing to succumb to his every desire in a heartbeat. I also knew he wouldn't force me into anything stupid.
He turned to face me again. At this point the snow was coming down in light flurries and made a cool, ivory blanket over the yellowed grass. Nearly all the lights were out save for mine; I was the only one home. The moon was waning, falling behind the towering houses around us. Minus my lawn, it was pitch black and I became nervous again, and excited. I couldn't see a thing.
He put his hands on my waist, moving them to meet at the small of my back. I put my arms on his shoulders, and we danced to our own beat. Delicate piano would have done fine; the ebony and ivory of those keys match that of tonight. Soon, though, our dancing stopped- but something else began.
Now he and I kissed slowly, and the music we created was smooth jazz. It was an irregular sort of lingering kiss. We poured all of our pent-up feelings into each other. I amazed myself. It was the jealousy I felt at seeing him walking with another girl, it was the loneliness that engulfed me when I went a day without seeing his face. It was the want, oh, the want. It was all of my wishes.
After forever, though, our feelings being all transferred, our kisses fizzled out.
The last look we shared was one of finality. His fingers traced the edges of my lips several times around, setting my nerves ablaze.
"Close your eyes," he breathed, "and keep them that way..."
I instantly did as I was told.
Out of nowhere, a pair of lips was on mine and I sizzled in the sudden pleasure. Then two hands opened my own, and I felt something pressed into my palm. The two hands closed and were gone.
I waited a moment, wondering blindly which place he'd strike next. I kept waiting and eventually peeked. He was gone, without a trace of sound or sight- though he had left a trace of touch on me. I walked the short distance home, smiling wanly and unable to stop.
Once inside the house, I opened my loosely fisted hand. Within it was a simple band of metal, with a blazing opal crested on the gleaming silver. On the inside, the words "Our love is stronger" were engraved. I had never seen anything more beautiful.
I mounted the stairs, reached my room, got into bed, and switched off the light- at the exact same place that I had started. The everyday routine of going through the motions seemed so broken now, enough that I was concerned about how it all would mend. I could hardly believe that I had ever done them before. How is it that a person, just like you, could change your lifestyle with a single kiss?