Sydney didn't have much, but that was fine with her. She didn't need much. Growing up on the Washington coast in a lonely beach town, working quietly behind the scenes was what she was good at. Living on the beach was much less glamorous than most p...
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Don't want another day without you by my side.
May 1990
Life was busy for everyone as the weather began to warm up in preparation for summer. Chris was not only spending time rehearsing with their new bassist, Ben, but he was also helping out another local band under Susan's management. The Screaming Trees were working on their new album and had asked for his help with communications between themselves and Terry Date, who'd produced for Soundgarden in the past. He and Sydney had also moved into a small two bedroom, one bathroom house that they were renting in the Fremont neighborhood. It wasn't much, but it had a fenced in yard for Bill and it was a much needed change of scenery. A fresh start for them both. Their relationship was blossoming steadily and wonderfully. It felt old and familiar, yet new and exciting all at the same time. It felt different than any relationship either of them had ever previously been in... not that either of them had been in that many. They were at home with one another, and life finally felt as though it was falling into place. Sydney's face had healed, only a scar that ran from the outer end of her brow to the top of her cheekbone remained. She was thankful to start doing things she liked to do again. She visited Beth and Harold who were thrilled to hear that she was back. Beth could see how happy Sydney seemed now. Since her truck had been sold with all of her notebooks filled with her favorite poetry inside, she and Chris spent many a free afternoon wandering through old bookstores in Pike Place and finding her favorite classics along with some new ones. One evening after a very busy day and a late night of rehearsals in their basement, they settled into bed with Bill at their feet. Sydney had a sleep mask over her eyes as she lay against Chris's chest. Her vision was almost back to normal but she still often had a dull headache at the end of the day. "Want me to start where we left off?" Chris asked, picking up the book of poetry that they had been working through. He read aloud to her almost every night while she rested her eyes, and it was something she had come to look forward to. It was impossible not to get lost in the lazy richness of his voice as it soothed her to sleep. Pulling the blankets up around them and yawning, Sydney nodded. Clearing his throat, Chris began to read. "Speak earth and bless me with what is richest make sky flow honey out from my hips rigid as mountains spread over a valley carved out by a mouth of rain. And I knew when I entered her I was high wind in her forests hollow fingers whispering sound honey flowed from the split cup impaled on a lance of tongues on the tips of her breasts on her navel and my breath hollowing into her entrances through lungs of pain. Greedy as herring-gulls or a child I swing out over the earth over and over again." She yawned again as sleepiness crowded its way into her brain. "Who wrote that?" She asked. "Audre Lorde." "Mmm. Beautiful." She heard the page turn, letting her fingers roam leisurely over his strong torso and breathing him in. "I do not love you as if you were a salt-rose, topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries itself in the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride. I love you because I know no other way than this. So close that your hand upon my chest is my hand. So close that when your eyes close, I fall asleep." "Pablo Neruda. That's always been one of my all time favorites." Sydney told him. Chris set the book down, turning off the lamp on his nightstand and rolling over to pull her tightly into his embrace. When she sighed happily, he smiled to himself. Not for the first time, he realized how lucky it was that she bumped into him outside of that coffee shop two years ago. He still recalled the way she had smelled of shampoo and flowers, looking up at him apologetically with her big green eyes. The room was quiet a moment. Her hand made its way slowly up his body, gently up over his neck and settled along his jaw line. Lightly her fingers trailed up his cheek bone and over his brow, before finding their way down his nose and across his full lips. It was as if she was trying to memorize each feature by touch, etching them into her brain where she could keep the memory safe forever. She reached up and removed her eye mask so that she could look at him. The darkness made him just barely visible, but it didn't matter. Even the shadows couldn't hide them from one another. Their lips met passionately, sending fire through their veins. Propping himself up on an elbow, he let his body press into hers. All he wanted was to be as close to her as he could possibly get. Letting his hand wander down to the swell of her hip, her mouth parted in a gasp as his tongue danced across the sensitive skin of her neck. It amazed him at the way she responded to each kiss, each touch, each flick of his tongue. She was wound up and practically buzzing like a live wire... yet, as usual, she had this air of hesitation just underneath the surface. He pushed his hand up over her tight abs, his fingers splayed across her belly. Sydney trembled at his touch, knowing where this was headed. She wanted it... she wanted him, so bad. The thought of being with him was so thrilling, so exciting... yet she held back. The cast on her arm was a huge distraction, a glaring reminder of Adam. She didn't want any part of Adam with her when she was with Chris. Because of this, she pulled back from him as his hand travelled up toward her breasts. Unlike Adam, Chris stopped every time she wanted him to. The amount of respect he had continuously showed her, both before she'd left and especially since she came back, had erased any doubt she may have had in her mind that she loved him completely. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "I just want this stupid cast off. I can't... it's just so in the way." "You don't have to explain yourself, Syd." "I want to. I don't want you to feel like I don't want to because... because that's the furthest thing from the truth." "Are you sure?" He asked, kissing her again. "Oh god, yes. I just... I don't want any reminders of him between us. I don't want anything between us at all." "I've waited two years, baby. I'd wait ten more if it means you could be with me and be happy." "Fuck, ten years?! I wouldn't even wait for me that long! Are you crazy?!" She exclaimed, causing him to laugh. "Maybe I am." He joked softly.
