Çocuklar

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He had been slowly making his way through Sanem’s book. Like he told her that night in the forest, he read each page thousands of times, memorizing every word. He made it through the part where Emre said he would hate him, he made it through the part where the Albatross leaves the Phoenix. When he got to the last chapter he realized that even though they didn’t have a happy ending, her book still did. He began reading, the two love birds nesting on the beach, making sandcastles. When he read that they had three children, he wasn’t surprised. She had mentioned it a few weeks ago when they were out looking for young Caner. It struck him then that the dream he had also had three children, but he didn’t say anything about it.

He continued reading. He sat reclined on one of Merhiban’s pool chairs, soaking up the summer heat and admiring the stars. But when he read the description of each child, how close they were in age, what they looked like, he sat bolt upright. They were the same children from his dream, his children, their children.

This was a sign, the universe screaming at them to listen. He was listening, he believed. He had had dreams of her before, ones that came true in better ways than he could’ve ever imagined. He knew in his bones that it would happen again. He had to tell her. She had to know.

He jumped up, tossing the book down on his seat haphazardly. His gait verged on a jog in his haste to get to her. His breath came fast, his heart racing, eyes searching for her.

He found her in her favorite spot, near the tall table where she made her sweet smelling cream. She wasn’t sitting, but was bent over the table rearranging jars and vials. She wore one of her long gauzy dresses, her hair up in a scarf, the skin of her collarbones shining in the moonlight. She was a siren calling to him, he the helpless sailor.   

He strode up to her with purpose. She didn’t hear or see him coming, so when he grabbed her arm and spun her around she gasped. All she could do was whisper his name in shock as he backed her up against the door of the cellar where she kept her perfume ingredients. He held her right forearm in a firm grip, her hand balled in a fist on instinct. He wasn’t hurting her or scaring her, but everything about him screamed with intensity.

He boxed her in with his body. If she moved an inch their bodies would be touching from chest to knee. She plastered herself to the door, her left hand flat against it next to her hip. His intoxicating scent surrounded her, the summer breeze through his loose hair carrying it to her.  The heat coming off of him made sweat form on the small of her back. The look in his eyes made her knees weak. Entire worlds and lifetimes flashed in them, and in every single one he wanted her.

Her breath came short and quiet, but the blood rushing through her veins was so loud she almost didn’t hear him.

“I see them too. The children.”

“What?”

“The three of them. Two girls and a boy. One with dark hair like yours, the others with blonde hair. The youngest with blue eyes.”

“You read that in my book.” Her guard was up, brows furrowed in skepticism.

“I didn’t read it in your book until just now. I’ve been dreaming about them for months.”

Her breathing stopped. She stared directly into his eyes. He had her attention.

“I see them almost every night. I know every dimple, every freckle. I know the weight of them in my arms-”

“Don’t.” She whispered, the last letter silent as her tears choked her.

He looked stunned, searching her face for answers. He thought she would be happy, shocked even. He opened his mouth to ask or explain but then-

“It’s hard enough for me. Seeing them but knowing I will never hold them.” Her lips quivered as she spoke, tears dripped off her chin.

He had never seen her look more heartbroken. Her pain hit him in the chest. He knew all too well what she was feeling, he had felt it too. He didn’t want to feel it ever again. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. It was the first time he ever cried in front of her.

He took a steading breath and asked:

“ Please? 

Please believe me.

Please trust me.

Please try for me.

She was so scared. Of getting hurt again, of getting everything she ever wanted.

“I can’t lose them. I can’t lose you.” His voice shook and his tears flowed.

He was vulnerable but he didn’t care. This was the most important thing he had ever said or would ever say in his whole life. That’s what she was to him: his whole life.

His soulmate.

The mother of his children.

His first and only love.

The person he wanted to walk through life with.

She stood before him. So beautiful, so broken. He saw the world shining in her eyes.

But then she closed them.

The hand that was balled into a fist flattened against his chest, right over his heart. She bent her head and tilted it so that it rested on his shoulder. She brought her other arm away from her body, to touch his ribs and grab onto his shirt. She moved the inch it took to press their bodies together. She was succumbing to him, fitting herself in the spot that was made for her.

He loosened his grip on her arm and slowly wrapped it around her back, fingers brushing soft skin along the way. His right hand trembled as he cautiously reached up to touch her waist. He let his hand rest there for just a moment, feeling the spot where her ribs narrowed into flared hips. Then he slid his hand around to the opposite side, pulling her closer still, anchoring his arms around her.

She felt so small but so strong in his embrace. Nothing had ever felt more right . He leaned his head against hers, his nose buried in the hair on the crown of her head. He inhaled long and deep, letting her scent infiltrate every part of him. She smelled like home.

It was the first day of the rest of their lives.

END NOTE:
Blame Ayse and Can Yaman for this.

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