I was awoken by the feeling of hair on my face. I pulled my head back and opened my eyes, seeing Gwen towering over me.
"It's hour one of our last full day together for three whole weeks. We've got a full day ahead!" Her gapped smile was wide as usual. When I rolled over my eyes caught the time. 6:30 a.m. The blasted sun hadn't even come out from behind the clouds.
"You've woken me today. Took you two months but you finally did it." She slapped my arm in retaliation.
"If you weren't so cute I wouldn't let you have breakfast."
"Oh, you've made breakfast? What time did you get up?"
"Four." Her eyes crinkled as she gave a shy smile.
"Four? Girl, you're going to be tired in two hours. You barely manage with a full six hours."
"That's a risk I'm willing to take for you. Now drink your tea." A small pink cup was foisted into my hands. "Thank you, darling. Let's see if it's up to standard." I took a sip. Not enough sugar and way too much cream. "Wow, that's great! You're gaining a real talent for tea making." Her smile was so cute. Lips curling around straight teeth. Cheeks pinched together in total glee. This is the way she should remain.
"Well let's head down to the table. I am starving! I haven't eaten since like half an hour ago." I tried to stand but she stopped me. "Before we go." Her hands were in my wild hair now. She picked through a few knots and then worked to tie it back. "There," she turned me to admire her work, "you look so cute! I've never seen your hair up. You should wear it this way more often."
"Oh, no, love. That will not be happening. But I will keep it up because you were sweet enough to do it for me." I leaned back to kiss her sweet lips again.
-
"Okay, we need to leave by 8. That means we have half an hour to eat breakfast so we can have time to shower and dress." She looked down at her watch.
"You're still not telling me where we're going or what you have planned?"
"You really want to know?"
I nodded. "You know I hate surprises."
"Well, that's too bad. You'll just have to learn to love them." Her smile was a sweet contrast to her words.
After breakfast, we headed upstairs. While she showered I dug through my closet looking for a suitable outfit. The weather was becoming harsh, so I would need to dress accordingly. I decided on a simple button-up and jeans. The bathroom knob turned and gave way to Gwen. She was draped in a white towel, steam surrounding her.
"Are those my jeans?"
I looked down at the flares. Floral patches adorned the pockets and the knees. "I think so. Is that an issue?"
"Yeah, I was planning to wear those. You stole my outfit!"
"Well then let me borrow yours." I grabbed the end of the fabric covering her and yanked it off. She was left with only the towel wrapped around her hair. "Jimmy!" She screeched, picking her towel up. "You're an animal!" She smacked my arm. I couldn't help but giggle.
I suppose I'd always had a penchant for trouble. As a young boy, I enjoyed poking at my mates and making a fuss. Seldom did I pull pranks, but when I did I enjoyed them quite a lot. It was that same mischievous grin I wore than that I do now. She looked marvelous, anyway, I didn't understand why she was so upset.
We made it out of the house at 7:45. She was a punctual lady, always checking the time and stressing about schedules. Usually, she stressed so much that we ended up 10 minutes early for everything. This quirk was endearing and rather attractive. She valued her time and never wasted mine. "After you, Mr. Page." She chattered as she opened my door. "Wow, you're really giving me the treatment. Breakfast and opening my door. You're very chivalrous." I gave her a short bow before getting into her car.
She started driving down the road, the car making an unsure rattling sound. She danced with the peddles, seemingly confused about where to put her feet. It was a wonder that she had a license. One would think it's her first time driving. I think I could drive better than her. At a red light, the car hurtled to a stop. "You've really got to get used to driving in London." I laughed as she grimaced. "It's not my fault y'all drive on the wrong side of the road. And who put the steering wheel over here? It looks ridiculous."
"Wrong side? Um, I believe we were first." Her eyes rolled and she sped off when the light flashed green. I looked at my watch once more and saw that it was nearing 8. Not only was she a bad driver, but she was also a speed demon! I feared for my life as we made our way to the museum. If the caffeine in my morning tea hadn't woken me, the primal tingling in my spine sure did.
We had finally arrived. I breathed a sigh of relief as she twisted the key, stopping the car. The nightmare was over. Then I was up and chasing after her. "Aren't we on a date? You should wait for me." I called after her. "You're right, where are my manners? After you, Ma'am." She stopped in her tracks and bowed, mocking my earlier actions. "Well, thank you. You better be taking me somewhere nice. I'm no cheap chap, I'll have you know. You'll have to pay good money to get me in the sack."
"Oh yes, I am well aware. But I'm sure you will find my choice satisfactory." She slipped her hand into mine, swinging it as we walked. This caused a laugh to glide from my mouth. And I did find her choice to my satisfaction. She chose a museum that I hadn't had the chance to see yet. The Victoria & Albert Museum of Art and Design.
"Oh, wow, this looks nice!" She said. The front entrance was lovely, decorated finely with a floral design. We continued to hold hands as we explored the exhibits. We looked at paintings and sculptures, dipping in and out of rooms as we surveyed the selection of art.
"Was this a good spot? I didn't know where you'd been so I picked a place low on the list of museums." She was whispering over the tinkling piano someone was playing.
"Yeah, this is great. I haven't been. But it's fantastic. Marvelous, one could say." I added a dramatic flair to my words. I felt like Robert now, putting on a show.
"I'm glad. I think it's nice too. We should go look at the embroidery!" Her voice was hushed but still excited. She dragged me along as she made her way to the door.
"Woah, look at this!" She pointed to an ornate box. It was decorated with animals and women. The stitch work did look nice. "Yes, it's lovely." I nodded along as she read. I didn't particularly care for the design. I turned my attention to a collection of panels crafted by Queen Mary of Scotts. "They're called "prison embroideries" because they were created during her imprisonment by her cousin. Very interesting. When I turned she was still looking at the box.
"Look, it's you!" She pointed to a section of the casket that had a woman playing a woman holding an instrument.
"I have never played the lute. So no, it is not." I cocked my head in a joking manner.
"My apologies. I thought it was the mandolin. How could I be so... what do you say? Daft?"
"Oh, yes, love. One could say you're quite daft." She gave the back of my head a small smack.
"You ask to take me out and then you rough me up in the museum before we even get into the sheets? You're a lousy lover." I clicked my tongue and shook my head at her. She sent a giggle. A wonderful sound.
"My apologies, Mr. Page. I hope I'm not ruining my chances with you already." Her eyes were stuck on mine. Transfixed. I could feel the familiar rushing in my head. My toes began to lose feeling as the world slipped away. I leaned forward and kissed her. This sent a feeling of warmth through my body. I could feel her all over me. Every inch of skin. Every hair follicle. She surrounded me like a blanket, enveloping me in her wonderful esse.
"Well, that was certainly something." She breathed out with a smile wide on her face. "But we're not the only ones here. So maybe we should save it for later." A blush prickled across my nose and cheeks. A family had entered the section while we were busy. Usually, I wouldn't be so bold. I find it awkward to display love and care so openly. That is private intimacy reserved for the home. I've never felt the need to show my lady off in that way. But she drives me absolutely wild. I didn't care who saw us. I didn't care if we were the only ones in the room, the whole museum, or the world, for that matter. She takes everything I've ever felt and flips it on its head. She makes me look at things from an entirely new perspective. She's the first breath of crisp air when Spring breaks. She's warm water when I come inside from a cold day. She's the comfort waiting for me at the end of the day. I gave her one last quick kiss and we carried on looking at the pieces on display.
We spent a few hours in the large museum, looking through rooms of paintings and artifacts. It wasn't the best museum in London, but definitely interesting. Spending the afternoon with such a lovely woman, and looking at such fine art was fine with me. In fact, it was one of the best days I'd had in a while. Apart from our meeting and first date, it would be my favorite day. It's hard to tell because every day with her was special. There were days when we would do nothing, just basking in our feelings and spending a day in quiet harmony. We moved like two pendulums, so perfectly in sync and painfully aware of the other. I enjoyed each moment with her, every second drawing out to a moment of complete bliss.
I couldn't even feel the chill of January air on my skin as we exited the museum. With my hand in hers, nothing could bother me. I fear the grounds could open and hellfire could rain upon us and I'd be none the wiser.
When we were in the car Gwen switched on the car radio. She drummed along with the beat, creating a harsh thud. Its sonorous quality was a match for the juvenile music. "You like this?" My voice was judgmental.
"Um, yeah? Doesn't everyone like The Doors?" I gave a slight laugh. "Perhaps Americans," I spoke it like it were a curse, to be from such a land.
"Well, I'm American, so deal with it." She took her eyes off the road
"I don't think I will."
She turned the radio to a blaring volume. I covered my ears and waited for her anger to thaw. When it did, which didn't take long, she clicked the radio off. We talked quietly about what exhibits we enjoyed. She told me she liked the sculptures the most and I said I liked the French art. It was rare of me to speak highly of something French, but the art was stunning. How could I turn a blind eye to such a wonderful sight?
Night had finally fallen, the sky breaking off from the bursts of orange and pink. The stars were bright and laid upon the sky like a spread of twinkling diamonds. Each one was special and beautiful, just like every blemish and freckle on her face. We lay on opposite sides of the coffee table while a record spun. Tonight it was Gwen's choice of album. Two nights ago, the last time we partook in this ritual, I chose Salty Dog by Procol Harum. Something I picked up recently. I enjoyed it thoroughly. Spinning on my turntable tonight is Days of Future Passed by The Moody Blues. A lovely mix of symphonic sounds, poetry, and modern prog rock. Wouldn't be my usual choice, but it was interesting nonetheless.
Her copper hair pooled above her head, lying in a puddle against the white carpet. I could see just her head lying past the table. Her eyes were illuminated beautifully in the sparse candlelight. Although I couldn't see her well, or hear her if she chose to speak, I was having fun with her. We didn't need to be engaged in an other-worldly discussion or be indulged in flesh-toned affairs to have a great night. Simply being in her presence seemed to be enough, listening to good music was just a plus.
Every night is a ritual with her. She is always lighting candles with intentions carved in. Always casting a spell. Usually one of love that enraptures my heart and steals my breath. Cannabis smoke is still thick in the air. Although we shared the herb almost half an hour ago the smell still sat around us.
"This album is genius. It reminds me of The Four Seasons by Vivaldi. The way they work their way through the day, I mean. It's similar to the feelings I get during the different seasons. It's fascinating." The way in which her brain works is incredible. I could listen to her for hours and hours and never grow tired. She's a marvel to behold. An entire package that I want to ravage.
"Oh my god, this song is great! I have to see what it's called." She was up, bouncing around before I got a chance to respond. She's so full of life. Another quality I admire so. She is candlelight; so bright and warm. I could live in her light for a thousand years. "It's called Evening. This album is almost finished," a deep frown occupied her face for only a moment, "but then I could play another one! Right, love?" Her first use of my favorite pet name caused a quake in my brain. Euphoria rained down through my body.
"Of course. Anything you'd like."
"Thank you." She pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. I could feel a fire trailing from the base of my spine up to my forehead. A deep heat overwhelmed my senses. Sparks erupted behind my eyes and washed down the back of my head. In an instant, she pulled me to my feet. Her body was pressed to mine. I could feel the heat radiating from every inch of her.
She began to sway in a small dance. I followed her lead, letting her guide me. As the mellow tone of Nights In White Satin flowed from the record player she conducted a simple ceremony. Our feet moved in small circles. I felt her magic through her effortless steps. I put my trust in her as we collaborated on a mindless dance. I felt free and light, just as I always did with her. It was now that I could feel her heart beating against my chest, matching the rhythm of mine.
It was this proximity, this intimacy that lead me to my next conclusion. I had fallen in love with this woman. Head over heels, completely in love. And I had never known a greater feeling. To be in her mere presence uplifted my spirits. She was my muse. Not just in art but in life. She was the reason for the rise and fall of my chest as I breathed. And I found peace in her. I discovered refuge in her love. For the first time, I wasn't scared to love her. I wasn't scared to be open. The box was open and she was beginning to poke her head inside. And I wanted her there. She looked into my soul and I into hers. She looked behind the curtain, then threw them asunder.
The record died out and we continued to undulate without sound. This lasted for minutes on end before she picked her head up off my shoulder. "This was the perfect way to spend our last night." Without another word, she leaned forward and kissed me with her silken lips.