Romance 6
We walked, slowly, along the river, watching the moon dart behind thin clouds that softly blanketed the stars. We were entirely alone, save for each other and our thoughts. It seemed that those with any sense knew better than to wander outside late at night in the height of December. And yet, we ambled on, oblivious. Or rather, we chose not to notice the cold; we had all the warmth we needed.
"You know, it really is ridiculous that we're not wearing gloves."
"No. It's ridiculous we're out here in the middle of the night in thirty degree weather. It's downright insane not to wear gloves."
"Well, we can always go back."
"And we could tear off each others' clothes, kiss each other from head to toe, and fuck so furiously even the daffodils might think it was spring."
"You know I meant the gloves one wears on their hands, right?"
"I don't really know what good they'd do there, but hey, I'm always up for new things."
"If my hands weren't numb, I'd pinch you."
"Ooo, give me three guesses where!"
"Good lord, you're impossible."
"Hey, just yesterday you were calling me the easiest thing in the tri-state area."
"I do call 'em like I see 'em."
"And I imagine you've seen quite enough."
"Well, like oxygen and socialism, I could always use more."
A gust of wind smacked into us, and we huddled closer. I wasn't quite sure why we insisted on keeping our hands bare. Both were quite numb, so even the feeling of skin upon skin meant little. But I suppose it was par for course, as far as relationships of the lovelier sort go. Logic and love are casual acquaintances at best.
"Are you sure you're not cold?"
"No, I'm fucking positive that I'm cold."
"What was that last part? I heard 'fucking' and my mind started to wonder..."
"I imagine that's not the only thing."
"I'll bet you do."
"What the hell does that even mean?"
"It means that you're so hot, I'm surprised you don't melt the frost and turn this entire area into a wet mess."
"Well, I don't know about the entire area, but..."
"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what we in the innuendo business call 'an assist.' "
"Ooo, an audience? I hope they brought gloves. Or at least singles."
"Always the entrepreneur..."
The clouds glided away for a moment, and the moon beamed onto the surface of the water. The surroundings glowed with a surreal light, the sort that is at once brilliant, but devoid of artifice. We stopped walking, and I turned to look at her. When I spoke, it was barely a whisper, as if the mere force of my voice had the power to shatter the serenity in one crashing blow.
"My God, you're beautiful."
"My God, you're pale."
"You're so sweet."
We both smiled, then lightly kissed.
"Careful, we might get stuck together."
"Yes, you've been complaining about it for years. Of course, if your lips were... otherwise occupied, that wouldn't really be a problem, would it?"
I raised my eyebrow, and she promptly mimicked me in that half mocking, half suggestive way that was so positively... quintessential.
I tried to resist, because I hated to think of the smug satisfaction she'd get if I moved first, but I soon gave up and threw myself at her. Chapped lips, numb hands, the worries of today, and the trials of tomorrow were all forgotten as we entwined ourselves in each others' arms. I couldn't think of anywhere I'd rather be.
After a few minutes, my brain got the better of me, and I broke off.
She looked up at me, half-heartedly pouting.
"I think we'd be better off continuing somewhere that isn't, oh, reminiscent of a fucking glacier."
"Hey, if it worked for the cavemen, why not us? We are the evolved ones, right?"
"Oh, just shut up and get to the car."
I turned before she could respond and started walking without looking back.
"Well, are you coming?" I shouted behind me, without fully turning to see if she was following.
"Not yet, but I sure hope to soon."
"It might be sooner than you think," I laughed, as I reached the parking lot and turned to wait.
She threw herself at me and barreled me inside the car. She lay on my chest, as I gazed into her eyes, and my hand moved, as it had so many times, to naturally brush away the strands of hair that had fallen to her face.
She flashed a wicked grin and softly murmured, "darlin', we're just getting warmed up."
"You know, it really is ridiculous that we're not wearing gloves."
"No. It's ridiculous we're out here in the middle of the night in thirty degree weather. It's downright insane not to wear gloves."
"Well, we can always go back."
"And we could tear off each others' clothes, kiss each other from head to toe, and fuck so furiously even the daffodils might think it was spring."
"You know I meant the gloves one wears on their hands, right?"
"I don't really know what good they'd do there, but hey, I'm always up for new things."
"If my hands weren't numb, I'd pinch you."
"Ooo, give me three guesses where!"
"Good lord, you're impossible."
"Hey, just yesterday you were calling me the easiest thing in the tri-state area."
"I do call 'em like I see 'em."
"And I imagine you've seen quite enough."
"Well, like oxygen and socialism, I could always use more."
A gust of wind smacked into us, and we huddled closer. I wasn't quite sure why we insisted on keeping our hands bare. Both were quite numb, so even the feeling of skin upon skin meant little. But I suppose it was par for course, as far as relationships of the lovelier sort go. Logic and love are casual acquaintances at best.
"Are you sure you're not cold?"
"No, I'm fucking positive that I'm cold."
"What was that last part? I heard 'fucking' and my mind started to wonder..."
"I imagine that's not the only thing."
"I'll bet you do."
"What the hell does that even mean?"
"It means that you're so hot, I'm surprised you don't melt the frost and turn this entire area into a wet mess."
"Well, I don't know about the entire area, but..."
"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what we in the innuendo business call 'an assist.' "
"Ooo, an audience? I hope they brought gloves. Or at least singles."
"Always the entrepreneur..."
The clouds glided away for a moment, and the moon beamed onto the surface of the water. The surroundings glowed with a surreal light, the sort that is at once brilliant, but devoid of artifice. We stopped walking, and I turned to look at her. When I spoke, it was barely a whisper, as if the mere force of my voice had the power to shatter the serenity in one crashing blow.
"My God, you're beautiful."
"My God, you're pale."
"You're so sweet."
We both smiled, then lightly kissed.
"Careful, we might get stuck together."
"Yes, you've been complaining about it for years. Of course, if your lips were... otherwise occupied, that wouldn't really be a problem, would it?"
I raised my eyebrow, and she promptly mimicked me in that half mocking, half suggestive way that was so positively... quintessential.
I tried to resist, because I hated to think of the smug satisfaction she'd get if I moved first, but I soon gave up and threw myself at her. Chapped lips, numb hands, the worries of today, and the trials of tomorrow were all forgotten as we entwined ourselves in each others' arms. I couldn't think of anywhere I'd rather be.
After a few minutes, my brain got the better of me, and I broke off.
She looked up at me, half-heartedly pouting.
"I think we'd be better off continuing somewhere that isn't, oh, reminiscent of a fucking glacier."
"Hey, if it worked for the cavemen, why not us? We are the evolved ones, right?"
"Oh, just shut up and get to the car."
I turned before she could respond and started walking without looking back.
"Well, are you coming?" I shouted behind me, without fully turning to see if she was following.
"Not yet, but I sure hope to soon."
"It might be sooner than you think," I laughed, as I reached the parking lot and turned to wait.
She threw herself at me and barreled me inside the car. She lay on my chest, as I gazed into her eyes, and my hand moved, as it had so many times, to naturally brush away the strands of hair that had fallen to her face.
She flashed a wicked grin and softly murmured, "darlin', we're just getting warmed up."
posted by Ophelia at 12:47 AM
4 Comments:
D'aww. That's cute, if a bit stilted. :-)
Yes, my prose generally is. The poetry's generally a bit more fluid, but that's more or less the nature of the beast. Although it may just be a matter of conjecture versus experience.
But hey, I try!
Hey, I didn't say it wasn't worthwhile. 'Cos it is. I was grinning ear-to-ear when I finished reading it, and it wasn't because I found the flaws amusing. I enjoyed it. It was good. Just saying there's room for improvement, is all.
I liked it, dagnabbit.
I appreciate it, really! I didn't mean to imply I thought you hated it; it's just musings on whether it's something I can improve upon or whether I should aim for a different medium.
Really, your input positive and negative (which is ever so rare for people to give) is lovely :).
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