Take me with you.

Longing.

The grass was left with wet shoe marks as the tired man walked, or rather stumbled upon it, towards the small cottage in between the vines.
He shivered a little as cold wind touched his face and gathering his jacket about himself, he stumbled on pass the open gate.
"Did she keep it open like this", he thought, a bit alarmed. Tiredness and darkness of the night did nothing good for the man's vision as he could not see or feel or even think much. He was moving in a space where time had stopped.

Things like time were man-made ideas for materialistic beings.
Space and Universe didn't know a thing such as that.
Neither did a mind and soul deep in love.
And his mind and soul knew one thing now. Everything else did not exist.

He turned the knob and entered.

A humming could be heard. A smell that took his tiredness away. He could hear female laughter and the canter of two horses, whose riders rode away to glory, sometimes racing, laughing and chattering over the sound of hooves and wind.

He shook his head. That smell had yet again taken him back to those long lost memories. Were they in another life? For they seemed quite far away.

He stood in the doorway. Staring into space. He could still hear the humming. Closing his eyes, he smiled a little. Taking long breaths, which were never enough to take in the addictive smell, his feet walked themselves to the source of the humming.
The house wasn't lighted much. But the kitchen was.

Another smell. Coffee.

He took off his jacket, laying it on the back of one of the chairs around the small table in the kitchen.
He stared for sometime.
The sudden squeezing in his heart needed to be calmed. Of all emotions that he had felt in his long, defeated life, longing was the one he had felt the strongest. And for the longest time ever.
His eyes told him to reach out to what was there, and he gazed a little more as his soul asked him if it was really there.

Nothing else could be mistaken for that smell, for that voice.

Walking up slowly, he stood behind her, inhaling the sweet aroma. Quite gently his arms slid around her waist, hugging her soft robe, and his nose buried in her hair. She brewed her coffee. He waited, while his head remained on her shoulder, looking at the clock on the wall to his right.

1:30 am.

He moved his head on her shoulder and his eyes and nose were again buried in her messy braided hair.
She laughed lightly. It tickled her when his lips grazed her neck. He left slow, dry kisses through the brown hair.
"Ali Rahmet.." she whispered as he nibbled very softly at her ear. He kissed below it, removing the hair there with his left hand.

Turning to him, still in his embrace, she looked a bit up and her nose almost touched his lips. His head tilted as he looked into her eyes, holding her to himself.
Their foreheads touched, and she closed her eyes. He rubbed his nose against hers and moved his lips gently over her cheeks.
"Your coffee will get cold." she whispered.
"Since when did our roles get reversed?" He asked kissing her hair, "Didn't I make coffee for you always?"
"Is this really happening?", breaking herself from his embrace, she said softly, picking up the two cups of coffee and carrying them to the living room, where the fire was lit.

Giving her a funny look, he followed her. He looked around a bit. As if he had forgotten the details of how the interior looked. An image of a strange man sitting on the ground, his head bent, flashed through his mind.

"Ali Rahmet." a voice like a song jerked him out of the sudden strange throught and he looked at her.

"Hünkar." he said as he felt all strangeness, all uncertainty, everything unknown leave his mind, to be again replaced by pure devotion and affection for the woman he stood with. He felt like he never knew anyone, anything else.