The Pawns that Gleam [Bk 3]

ch.2 To see

In the curtain of darkness that covered our room, covered the sky outside, Harry stopped his planting his little chess board of pawns inside me. He looked down at me a moment. I glanced up at him.

“I want us to have a real Castle” he whispered as he kissed down my neck.

“Harry” I spoke up and I leaned a bit on my elbows.

Harry let his lips trail up to mine, wanting to quiet me from quieting him.

“-With tall, ivory, crystalline pillars” he spoke eagerly, in between each kiss.

“Harry” I mumbled.

“And-and diamonds that line up, spelling your name. You should have a garden of golden butterflies. You should have sparkling red wine and bubbling white champagne-” his voice grew stronger and raspier, almost hysterical.

I remembered he had left me the last time he had gone off on his rant about what I supposedly needed and what he couldn’t give me.

I shook my head and pushed him down so that he was under me this time.

Then I pressed my lips to his, stopping his slightly delusional rant about things that sparkled and gleamed and glowed. Things that we could hold, not create. I wanted to create something that sparkled and gleamed and glowed. I wanted it to be made of his blood and mine.

Harry played with a piece of my hair which had come over my eye.

“Harry” I spoke steadily as I looked down at him. I lowered his hand, which was still a bit distracted by my hair.

He folded his arms under his head.

“Angie” he grinned as he looked up at me.

“Harry, I’ve already told you, I- we- don’t need those things” I reminded him.

Harry let out a slightly frustrated sigh.

“But I want to give them to you” he spoke in a soft hush that fanned my neck.

I looked down at his lips.

He reached for my face and smoothed his thumb over my cheek, tempting me into letting him spoil me however he pleased.

“Harry” I shook my head slowly. I eased down on him, letting our chests rise and fall in sync.

Harry looked up expectantly into my eyes, hoping to convince me to let him work his curls off until we could buy a real castle, one that had one more room than the Ritz-Carlton and was built with golden bricks that glued together as tightly as our bodies when we made our puzzle.

“Your heart is my token, remember?” I reminded him quietly. I watched his eyes as he looked at my chest, at my heart, then up at my eyes.

“Yes” he nodded.

“Do you still believe I have wings?” I asked him softly.

Harry looked up into my eyes almost immediately, as if I had called his name.

“Of course I do, angel” he answered quickly and smiled at calling me ‘angel’ for emphasis.

“Good” I laughed quietly. “Then you can see my wings?” I specified as I looked over my shoulder at the imaginary, ivory feathers that had helped me find Harry, helped me remember my mom.

Harry pulled me lower and started kissing down my back.

“They’re right here” he grinned and he traced where his imagination saw my wings on my back.