Sidney's knee pressing against her thigh under the table during dinner. That little spot then became the focus of her thoughts. How something could be both joyful as the sun and the greatest agony at the same time was beyond Charlotte's ability to understand. As were the conflicting desires that made it difficult for her to breathe. The desire to press closer to Sidney so that she could feel the spreading heat everywhere was as strong as the need to move away from him and run in her room to be alone.
What improper thoughts crossed her mind then!
In her head she imagined taking off her clothes so that she could feel that wonderful pressure even more intensely. She wanted his soft lips on hers. Shockingly, not only there, but also on her neck! And when she lay awake at night, filled with shame, she allowed for a split second an absolutely indecent thought. That she longed for his mouth in all the places he had already touched. Her hands and arms, her shoulders, the back of her neck, her knee and her thigh.
And sometimes, yes sometimes, she allowed the most sinful of thoughts for only a second: his lips and fingers in all the places that tingled as soon as he kissed her.
Oh, and how he kissed her!
Sometimes so soft and long, as if they had all the time in the world. Sometimes so briefly, seizing the moment before they were watched again by a parent or one of the chaperones from the village, that Charlotte didn't even realise what was happening to her.
"Miss Heywood?" he asked then, and she hadn't even turned fully to face him before his mouth was on hers. As briefly as a squirrel rushing past, fleeing from a hawk. He usually turned immediately to the person about to enter the room. And Charlotte wondered for hours whether she had perhaps only imagined the brief brush of their lips. A fantasy, as untrue as her naughty dreams at night.
They hardly had any moments to themselves. Such moments as in the hazelnut grove. Someone was always there or burst into the room the moment he leaned over her and she closed her eyes. Then she felt his turning away like the scratching of icy wind on her skin. Deep inside her as well. As if someone was scraping her inside. It burned. Constantly.
Charlotte was sure, so sure, that only a touch or a kiss from him could contain this burning! And at the same time she knew that it would continue to burn, even if there was finally another opportunity to be as close as in the hazelnut grove. Such a mess in her head!
How was it ever supposed to end? Did she even want it to end?
Charlotte was so confused that sometimes she could hardly hold back her angry tears. She just wanted a moment alone with him! Without her parents, who seemed to enjoy torturing them with their presence. Or her siblings, who didn't let the two out of their sight for only a brief moment, which was surely due to the fact that they were paid by her parents. She wanted to be alone with Sidney and alone for longer than just five seconds! But this moment never seemed to come. The only thing that made her forget this outrageous pain, this outrageous pulling, were his words that he whispered to her every time after such small encounter.
"I long for the moment."
Even though she knew the answer by now, after weeks of engagement, she always breathlessly asked: "What moment, Mr Parker?"
He took his time answering until the chaperone was out of hearing distance, which could take hours if it was her father. But always Sidney gave her an answer and always his words swept her into a turmoil of lightness and the equal tightness that pressed on her guts.
"The moment when you are mine."
Although she knew that the meaning of these words held a secret that she could not even imagine, they always had the same effect. They filled her with heat that intensified the burning inside her. Charlotte felt weak and light and at the same time this inner tension pressed her down. This prickle trickled through her body, tingling in her toe, the same way it did in her head. And when he said these words and looked into her eyes with that look, that one piecing look, tingled also every part in between.
blossoms beneath blankets of snow
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