Part 10

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He'd heard you up before him this morning, the patter of your small feet against the wooden floors of your bedroom. You had your window opened, curtain still covering it as you slipped off your gown and into only your dressing robe. You welcome the cool chill that autumn is bringing as the wind whips across your bare skin, shivering you awake and bringing a flush to your face. You hear Forrest moving around a bit before his heavy feet descend the stairs. Seeing as no one else was up yet, and it being too early for customers you put your record player on. You pin up your hair, giving yourself a long look in the mirror at your naked form as you toss the robe onto the bed. You move over to the basin on the vanity that you now have in your room, the quiet splashing of water as you sink and wring the soft washcloth. You start with your face, working down to cover all the bits that required freshening up. You hum to yourself, letting your body air dry, moving about your room in a carefree way, dabbing perfume on your wrists then behind your ears.

The music has clearly distracted you, your thoughts on autumn as you sigh and see the tree's starting to change in the mountains. You hadn't noticed how the blustery nature of the morning had caused the loose door to ajar slightly as you got yourself ready for the day. Lucky for you, no one but Forrest was in the station, and unlucky for him, you hadn't heard him walking back up the stairs. As soon as he turns at the top of the stairs, directly in front of your door with a box in his hands he freezes. He sees half of your body, bare and bathed in the morning sun, the breath stops in his throat and he averts his eyes to the ground, nostrils flared and eyes wide. He concentrates on the box in his hands. Wrapped in brown paper, a bow of burlap around it as he tries not to crush it in his big hands at the way his body reacts to seeing you. He makes the mistake of look up again before turning to head down the stairs, he sees the front half of you this time, one soft and milky, fleshy hip curving up from strong thighs, the nip of your waist just under the swell of one teardrop shaped breast, bouncing slightly as you dap perfume behind your ears before turning and disappearing again. He groans and steps backward, his lack of breathing catching up to him before he tries to quietly make his way back down the stairs, trying to keep the body pumping in his entire body and not just to his face and between his legs. He stares blankly after setting the box in the office, looking out into the station with twitching eyes to compose himself. It wasn't like he'd never seen a naked woman before, but the shock of seeing you in such a way made his mind He'd wanted to surprise you with a gift but, seems you were the one doing that for him this morning.

-----

He was sitting in the church pew next to his mama like she always insisted he did, and as usual, he had his eyes on the doorway. He knew you'd been in a car accident and had a stay in the hospital. He'd taken flowers to you from the family at one point, but they'd had you on some heavy medicine and it seemed you hadn't known he was even there. You hadn't been to school, or to work at the farm or even church since the accident. Not like he blamed you. He kept hoping every week he'd seen you walk in, and this week he must've been lucky.

He see's the now widower Cliff, tugging Junior behind him, both in all black, new suits, new shiny shoes. He holds his breath in anticipation until you emerge from the double doors of the church entryway, light framing you like an angel. It hurt him to see you in the same dress and shoes as before, thinking the least you deserved was something pretty while you healed. In the almost 3 months you'd been out of his sight, going from age 13 to 14, he couldn't help but notice changes in your body that weren't there before as his eyes wandered down involuntarily. You wore the same dress, but you wore a different body underneath it. Your calves now showed from the height you'd sprouted, delicate ankles in your rugged shoes. The dress buttoned up the front, the fabric straining around your filled out hips and chest. A button or two refusing to meet it's matching hole like it had the last time you'd worn it. Your face looks different, not only from the scar still healing that crept up into your hairline, but it looked more...well somehow more beautiful to him. Rosy lips under big green eyes and dark lashes framing them. Your hair down and in curls that weighed heavily about the middle of your back, having grown and not been seen to since your mama passed. You fingers fidget with the fit of the dress, he can tell you're uncomfortable in it, you hunch your shoulders, one arm over your chest as you walk into the room of people.

Who We Were & Who We Are NowOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora