It was on the days they woke up together that Robert sang the best. When a day began with staring lovingly into the expanses of her blue eyes, he felt like God was on his side. With her he shined.
"Goodmorning," she said in a low voice. It was too early for loud moves or sudden words. Sun poured in through every open airplane window, ensuring to catch their tired eyes.
And her beauty was an understatement. She was a flowery treasure chest, more gold than you could ever imagine being found inside. He admired who he was when she was around.
"Goodmorning," he returned with a wispy smile, turning uncomfortably in his tiny seat.
-
They were a mass of blonde curls under the blinding San Diego sun. They looked like twins-- two sides of the same coin. Perhaps their similarities were what drew them into one another.
They walked together with locked hands. They passed through throngs of people with the group, taking in the sights of the stuffy airport.
Gwen looked at the couple and tapped Jimmy on the shoulder to draw his attention. "Look at them, they're so smitten." He rolled his eyes at this, intent on getting through the airport.
"You should enjoy the sun! You won't get much of it when we return to England." Her words were a taunt. He didn't want to enjoy the sun, he wanted to go to bed.
He felt like a raisin in the sun. He was ground under the wheels of the Earth, becoming a cloud of pulpy dust by the oppressive heat. He was an English boy, pale and fragile to temperature changes.
"Yeah, Jimmy, enjoy the sun!" Bonzo mocked her, putting on a terrible valley girl accent.
"There isn't any sun to enjoy. We're inside," he grumbled.
They were finally through airport check-in and were headed to their cars. Bonzo, Robert, and Lorelei would be in one, Jonesy, Gwen, and Jimmy in another. Gwen didn't want to be separated from her new best friend but was content to dote on Jimmy in the meantime.
"After you, Lord and Lady." Jonesy held the door open and put on a regal tone.
"Thank, my good sir." She smiled as she slid into the car.
When the door shut the black car lurched forward and began a 45-minute drive to the hotel. This was the reality of touring, not a glamorous display of royalty, but rather, a series of menial tasks and tiring travel.
"How are you enjoying the sights, my love?" Robert asked.
"Oh, they're great! I love San Diego." They were gazing into one another's eyes, lost in the vast seascapes of correlating blue.
"We've only been here an hour. And most of that time was spent in the airport." Bonzo's voice was a harsh reality, an end to their gushy romance.
"We've been doing our own sightseeing." Robert was the ever-charming romantic, always saving an awkward moment. He was graceful and practiced in wooing women, knowing exactly what to say to make a girl swoon. This is exactly what Lorelei did. Her face flushed pink, and she smiled wide. "That's my favorite one." He leaned in to kiss her.
"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ," Bonzo groaned, "I'm not listening to this for 45 minutes. I'll jump out the fucking car into the street."
The three were doing sightseeing of their own in the other car. They leaned down, peering out of the windows to catch a glimpse of the water below.
"San Diego is California's beach city. They also have the largest number of small farms in America." Jonesy read from a laminate brochure he found in the airport lobby. It was titled San Diego: The Sights You Will Sea." This corny joke caught his attention, and he pulled it off the shelf to save him from death via boredom.
"Still not as nice as San Francisco. That's my favorite place in this whole state," Gwen spoke. Memories of her childhood and adolescence flooded her mind. Scenes of '50s America were fresh and lovely, the world never looked so innocent and beautiful.
"Did you grow up there?" Jonesy asked.
"Oh, yeah, it was really nice. I've never been to San Diego, though."
"So how can you know if San Francisco is better?" He asked.
"Because it's the best city in the world. Nothing could top it." She wore her title of Californian with pride.
"You've clearly never had a fresh croissant in Paris," Jimmy said with a coy smile on his face.
"Okay, maybe it's not the best city in the world, but definitely in America."
Jonesy frowned, "I hated San Fransico. Too many people."
"I agree," Jimmy chimed in, "too many homeless people."
Gwen rolled her eyes.
-
"I just love the sun here. It warms me and brings out the color in my eyes." Lorelei was smiling with a dreamy look in her eyes. Every inch of her was filled with bliss.
Their hands had found each other and rested together on the seat of the car. Bonzo refrained from groaning at the sight of their love. He was getting sick of everyone. The next tour would be without all the romance, he hoped.
"How is Jason, Bonz?" Robert changed the subject to keep the mood light.
"He's doing wonderfully! I'm already teaching him how to play. He has a little kit and everything. It really fills my heart with joy to see him banging away."
His voice was lighter than she'd had ever heard. His face was flushed with a glow of happiness, filled with total glee.
"You have a child?" She asked.
"Yeah, his name is Jason. He's four. He's the love of my life."
"That's so sweet. You must've been young when you had him. You don't look old enough to have a child."
"I had him when I was 18. It kills me to be away from him." He was still beaming at the thought of his family, despite the sadness that he felt. It wasn't easy for any of them to leave their families.
It was easier for Jimmy, who was more interested in furthering his career than settling down. Of course, it wasn't on purpose that any of them had children so young. But Jimmy was careful. He had a plan in life and knew having a child was not in that plan. Not for the time being, at least.
"That warms my heart. Robert, do you have any children?" She asked. This conversation was now going sour, and he had to do something to change the subject. Reminiscing and thinking of family were something they all did, but not to the women they brought on tour.
"Yeah, Robert, do you have any children?" Bonzo was smiling at him. It may have seemed innocent on the surface, but Robert knew what his true intention was. It wasn't an extension of glee for his well-being, it was a challenge. He was an ape bearing his teeth, ready for the slaughter.
Robert was a spiritual man, he believed in a plethora of God's. He never knew if he was in their good graces or not, not attending mass or any kind of church. He didn't even pray. But on this day, he knew somebody or something was looking out for him. Before the silence got too thick, filling with awkward hesitance, the car stopped abruptly. It slammed them against the seats, their heads banging into the vinyl. He'd never been so happy to have a headache.
"Jesus, what was that?" Bonzo peered out the window.
"Must be traffic." Robert shrugged, turning back to Lorelei. She was worried, wearing an expression of deep concern. He came to her rescue and calmed her nerves. He was a knight, clad in heavy chainmail and brandished a shield. He stroked her cheek and her hair, whispering sweet nothings in her ear while Bonzo investigated.
He got out of the car and could now see that the traffic was heavy, the highway at a dead stop. He went back to the door and looked into the window before getting in. Robert and Lorelei were attached at the mouth, engaging in a makeup session.
How disgusting, he thought.
With a groan, he flung open the other car door and pushed Jonesy over so he could scoot in. "Those two are playing tonsil tennis. I couldn't take it, so I'm crawling in with you." He said as he sat next to his friend.
"Welcome to the party!" Gwen handed him a neatly wrapped joint that was already lit. Small streams of smoke billowed from the end and he blew a breath out the window.
"Perhaps being stuck in traffic was not the best place to do this," Jimmy remarked.
"Oh c'mon, don't be such a square. Have you taken a hit from this yet?"
"No, he hasn't!" Gwen said.
"Here, take this." Bonzo held it up to his mouth. Jimmy retracted his head, throwing it back into the vinyl headrest of the seat.
"No, I don't want it." His lips were pursed, and he was shaking his head in an attempt to get the drummer off of him.
"I'm not stopping until you take a hit!" He cried. Jonesy and Gwen were laughing at the scene, watching Jimmy be tortured with the threat of a good time.
"You may not realize this because he's jovial now that you're around, but he's really a serious guy. There's not much funny business with him. If there's work to be done, he doesn't mess around." Jonesy leaned into her and spoke directly into the shell of her ear. The two men continued to fight.
It escalated into Jimmy screaming. "I don't want it!" It was the loudest Gwen had ever heard him be.
"Yes, you do!" Bonzo screamed back.
"No!"
"Yes!"
Jimmy grabbed a fistful of Bonzo hair and pushed him back, causing the joint to fall onto the floor of the car. "Oh, shit!" Jonesy hurried to pick it up before it burned a hole in the carpet.
"What the fuck is going on back there?" Peter rolled the divider down to speak to the group. "Bonzo, what the hell are you doing in here?" When no one answered he barked again, asking what was going on. They all scrambled to answer, speaking at once. "Jesus Christ, stop your bloody yammering. I don't want to hear any more yelling!" He was gruff as usual.
"Or he'll turn this goddamn car around!" Gwen jested, causing them all to laugh. Even Peter was chortling, cutting the sound off with the rolling of the divider.
"Seriously, man, take a hit," Bonzo spoke once more when their laughing stopped.
"You are impossible," Jimmy rolled his eyes but took the joint from his fingers. It was a nub now, barely able to pass from one hand to the other.
"Let me get that before you put it out," Gwen spoke, awaiting the white gift. "Can you hold it for me? I don't want to burn my fingers." She spoke in a small voice.
"Of course." He smiled so sweetly it melted her heart, just as she did his. Jonesy thought it was sweet watching them like this. For some odd reason, seeing Jimmy in love was endearing. Perhaps his best features shone when in the presence of love, or she just brought out the best in him.
He held the joint in place while she inhaled, his hand resting on the cleft in her chin. This was one of his favorite features of her face. He enjoyed pressing his lips to the fissure or placing the side of his index finger in the slit.
"Thank you, Princess Pagey." She spoke the vile words so sweetly. His face broke into a light blush of pink as he looked at his friends, mortified.
Bonzo's belly danced with a deep laugh. The corners of his mouth were turned up in a display of complete elation, his skin wrinkling and cracking. His laugh was thunderous and great. It bounced off the walls of the car.
"Princess Pagey! Oh, man, that's a good one!" Bonzo wiped a genuine tear from the corner of his eye.
"Does anyone want this before I put it out?" She asked, holding the roach up.
"Yeah, let me get another one." She passed it to Jonesy who took one last large puff and then handed it to Bonzo. He took a hit and then tossed it out the window.
"That's littering, Mr. Bonham," John spoke in an exaggerated posh accent, sounding almost like Jimmy.
"Oh, my mistake, Mr. Jones. I wouldn't want to desecrate this beautiful city."
"It's the city of beaches, I'll have you know." He continued with the accent.
"It's about to be the city of roaches if we keep this up!" Bonzo's voice raised in volume once more, filling the car with his laughter. He was a loud man, meant to be seen and heard. Aside from the obvious, his almost violent drumming, he was a screamer. He chose to speak loudly with a passion, whether or not he was angry.
The falling out between Bonzo and Gwen had been slightly resolved. They resigned to being friendly once more. It was understood that they had different ideologies and should keep them out of the conversation. With three weeks left of the tour, there was no point in pissing your pants over something so meaningless, that being a disagreement or hurt feelings. There wasn't room for either of those things on tour. It was music and fun, and if neither of those was happening, you were asleep.
"I've got to get back to my car. I don't want the love birds to get lonely." In an instant he was gone, leaving the three once again. When he reached the car Lorelei and Robert were no longer kissing. He thanked the heavens and got in.
"The traitor returns."
"I had to leave. You guys were eating each other. I wasn't going to subject myself to that. It's a pain worse than death!" They didn't laugh at his joke.
"Traffic is letting up. Fasten your belts." Richard spoke above their chattering.
The rest of the ride was smooth. Traffic was lighter, thankfully. Peter could feel the steam coming from his ears as his foot danced on the gas pedal. As he drove, he went over the list of things he needed to do. Book flights for the next three shows, return the rented car before the flight in two days and call Atlantic. He wandered around his responsibilities for the remainder of the ride.
-
They'd finally arrived. The hotel was an oasis.
"Oh, God, my back hurts!" Bonzo was out of the car and yelling already. Robert and Lorelei were close behind, hands interlocked. Jimmy and Gwen were less showy in their relationship, content to walk next to each other.
"Mine too. I'm glad I can lay down for a little bit before the show." Said Jimmy.
"I can rub it for you if you'd like." They were speaking low as they walked into the hotel. This was a small display of love that only the two could witness. Their entourage trailed behind them, meandering on the pavement.
When they were finally safe in their hotel room they settled into the fresh sheets. "It's not even my own bed, but I don't care. I am just happy to be out of that car and not in a plane."
He agreed with her and then turned to face her. His eyes fell on her and trailed along the gentle curve of her spine. He placed his hands on her delicate skin and rubbed small circles. She was so beautiful, much more so than she ever imagined, he thought. She had entranced him from the moment he gained knowledge of her. That feeling hadn't left him, not for a second since he'd known her.
She looked at him now, turning to see the familiar expression on his face. He was deep in thought. His brows pressed together, creating a crease like the gutter of a book. He was vast and complex as words on a page, much like the wrinkle in his brow. She wondered what he was thinking. He was a mystery, one begging to be solved. She wanted to wiggle her way into his brain and absorb all the knowledge, be a part of the inner workings of his mind. She didn't have to speculate for much longer. He spoke once more.
"You know, it's funny, I feel like the more I get to know you, the less I learn." His soft voice was large in the hotel room, filling the space with his warm lilt. She was silent, pleading with her eyes for him to continue. "I'm opening myself up to you, trying my best to take my shoes off and open my doors. I don't feel that from you."
"I know, I'm sorry. I'm so scared to let my walls down, scared to let you in fully. I've been burned, and I don't want that again. So I try to lock myself up, but you always wriggle your way back in. It's like I can't help but let myself soften when I'm with you."
"So start telling me things."
"Like what? What do you want to know about me?" She almost wanted to giggle. They'd known each other for what felt like forever at this point. But he was right, he didn't know much about her. She kept it all under lock and key. It was inaccessible to even herself at times.
"Everything. I want you to tell me everything."
"Well, that's a pretty broad topic."
"Getting you to talk is like pulling bloody teeth," He broke his concentration with an airy laugh, "Start with your love life. That's not hard, right?"
"I'm afraid."
He groaned. "Why? What could you have to be afraid of?"
"I'm afraid you'll judge me. I don't have the most normal past."
"What could I possibly judge you about?"
"Okay, I'm just gonna be honest," she sighed hesitantly, "I've dated women in the past."
"Well, there's nothing wrong with that. As a matter of fact, I've been with men before. So I guess that's something we're both being honest about."
"You're bisexual?"
"I guess you could say that." They sat together for a moment, their faces burning. It wasn't common to meet someone who was so open about it. But they found solace in each other's omission. Jimmy broke their silence, his voice now slightly shaken, "You're avoiding the question. Tell me about your love life. What's your past like?"
"I've told you about Dominic."
"No, you've mentioned him, and then I was verbally accosted by him in the most polite of manners. I haven't a clue what happened."
After a hefty sigh, she gave in. In a painful recalling, she told the story of a tumultuous young couple. Two people who weren't meant for each other falling as if they were fated, lovers. Tears brimmed in her eyes, scalding her ducts as they threatened to take presence. The dull aching in her chest began to drum, mimicking the pattern she thought she had quieted years ago. But it was still present as if it had never stopped. The galloping beat of torment ravaged her, sending a wave of agony down her spine.
Her mind wandered over the last moments she shared with Dom. "Okay, I guess I should start from the beginning. We had been dating for almost two years and things had started to fall apart. He didn't seem to care anymore. I don't know if he was firm in the idea that he had me or if he didn't want to be with me. But I was still in it. I wanted him more than anything, I was doing everything I could think of to make him love me and stay with me. But it didn't seem to be working, and I could feel it. I didn't want to admit it, but it was true. I had an art gallery coming up. It was the first time my work was going to be shown in a real gallery and I was so excited. It was part of a larger exhibit, but I had a few pieces being shown. He was going on a trip with his friends to explore Africa. He was really into Pan-Africanism and wanted to see all of the countries that had recently won their independence. I was supportive, I understood why he wanted to go. I even wished I could go, but I would've never asked. It was a month-long trip where he and four other friends went to Niger, Chad, Cameroon, and Egypt. He was going to get back the day before my event but promised he would go. The night of the show began, and I was so excited. I wore a pretty dress, did my hair and makeup, and bought some nice new shoes. And he didn't show up. I spent the entire gallery waiting for him and by the time it was over I realized he wasn't coming."
"Oh, hey, Gwen." Dominic lay in bed, a blanket pulled up to meet his chin.
"Um, hey. Did you forget something?" Anger painted her features.
"What?" He asked.
"You are unbelievable!" She cracked, anger spilling out all over the room like gushing water from splintered vases. She was yelling, something she didn't do often. "You missed my gallery!"
He was unphased, a dazed look on his dark features. "You don't have anything to say for yourself?" She asked.
"I was jetlagged. I totally forgot about your gallery, sorry."
"Are you really sorry or are you just saying that? Because you don't seem sorry at all."
"I mean, I am, but there's nothing I can do about it now."
"You could've just been there! I don't know why it's so hard for you to care. I care so much about everything you have going on. Even your stupid trip!"
"My trip wasn't stupid. It was the most important four weeks of my life!"
"I don't care! Oh my God, I don't care. Can you just shut up about yourself for five seconds?"
"If that's how you're going to be, then you need to leave."
"Fine. But if you let me leave then I'm done. I'm not coming back."
"You're gonna end a two-year relationship over an art gallery?"
"It's not just about the gallery. It's about everything. It's about the fact that you're not even here. Even when you're with me I don't have you. You know I was knocking for twenty minutes? I had to get someone else to let me in the building. You're just in your own little world that I'm not a part of. It's like I have to beg you to love me, to even see me." She was exploding now, a mess of tears and anger falling from her eyes and draining down her alabaster face.
"That's not true. We just went out last week." He rebutted. Fireworks of impossible anger erupted behind her eyes.
"That was a going-away party for one of your friends, that wasn't a date! I was only there so you didn't go alone. I am your convenience, your routine, I'm not your girlfriend."
"If that's you feel, then you should leave."
A new low had begun, a possibility she hadn't thought of. He would want to end things. He didn't want to put the work in to even accept responsibility. It was a dead end.
"You're not even going to fight for this? You're just going to throw in the towel?" He shrugged, looking into her wild eyes. They were glistening with the threat of tears, scalding, and fat. "Fine."
Her heels thudded against the floor and stomped out of his apartment. The door slammed shut with a heavy thud. When she was alone the tears escaped. They pushed onto her cheeks, streaming down her soft skin. It was a scene of youthful pain, the first cut. A panicked breath caught in her throat, a weight on her chest. She was hyperventilating now, the memories of abandonment flooding her mind. Now she was alone, shut out in front of his sealed door. Just like that, it was all over. There was no constellation prize or closing statement, just pain. What stung the most was that she didn't have items to collect from his apartment. There was no trace of her in his life. But he coated every inch of her small apartment. The paint from his palette was the tint that covered her eyes, rose-colored glasses of his love. She saw everything with his hues, a strip of his preferred shade in every wall of her brain.
Jimmy looked at her, seeing the pain echoing on her face. It was still haunting her. The ghosts of her past lived inside the cavernous heart that occupied her chest. "I'm sorry, love, that sounds awful. I understand why seeing him again made you so upset. He sounds like a wanker."
His slang made her giggle, a strained laugh filled with a bittersweet pain. "It's no matter now. It's all over, been many years. I suppose I'm a fool for even stressing over it." She dismissed her feelings, pushing tears off the sides of her face.
"No, no, you're not. Your first love isn't something that ever goes away. The pain stays forever, in some capacity." His hand rested atop hers, playing with the flesh that coated her frame.
"You know what the worst part of all of this was?"
"What?"
"I bought him that stupid ticket for his trip." This made him laugh and she joined in, a sorrowful sound of wheezing. He looked at her again, seeing the pain melting slightly. It was like glittering snow, shrinking under the loving touch of the sun. "At least I have you now. Someone who I feel really cares for me. Even if it took a while for that to happen."
"Nonsense. I've always cared for you."
"No, the trusting." She said.
"You didn't trust me?"
"Not totally, not for months." When his face stood still, twisted in pain, she elaborated. "You must understand, you are a Rockstar who asked me out and basically moved me in on the first date. I thought for the first few months that this was a fleeting fling." She spoke nervously, playing with the ring enveloping his index finger.
"I guess I can understand that. I was afraid for a long time to really speak to you about how I felt. I thought you wouldn't reciprocate. I was afraid of losing you. But I see now that it was in vain. We are deeply entranced with one another; I can see it in your eyes. You feel the same way I do, and we share a deep connection." He danced around the words he truly wanted to speak. He was lying, telling a half-truth.
He was still afraid, honestly, too scared to jump off the ledge. When he'd brought up his feelings of love in the past, it wasn't always met with enthusiasm. He'd also used promises of his love to get what he wanted, something he was trying to avoid now.
"Yeah, you're right. I'm not scared to be honest with you anymore. I see that you welcome it with open arms, you embrace me, no matter what I have to say."
Love made liars of everyone, specifically the two lying together now. She was terrified of him, clinging desperately to the walls that separated her heart from his harsh mouth. He could say the words that would tear her down at any point, could wave her off and tell her it meant nothing in a matter of seconds. It is a heavy hand that can wipe away the hard-wrought foundation away in seconds. She was blind to his delicate and light fingers, the way the lithe mechanisms worked away at her heartstrings in the gentlest of manners. He wasn't the man to crush her, he wouldn't dream of it. They were two lovers speaking endlessly of their feelings, one scared to be brazen, and one too blind to see the capacity at which the other would go to avoid true intimacy.
Now they lay down for bed. The sun had set, and the moon was showing, paintings murals on the walls of the hotel room. The scene that lies in their room was an image of love. The couple lay in bed, creating an air of trust as they talked. Their usual topic of conversation was thrown, and she delved into her feelings.
"I still don't really know what I want to do. Each day is an exploration of a dark path for me. But one thing I know for certain is that I was supposed to meet you. We were fated. That day I wasn't even supposed to be there. Allison was going to be your photographer, but she called in sick. And the moment I met you I saw everything. I saw our future, our love. I'm so happy every day that I have you." Her words were low in the dim of the night, being absorbed by his skin due to their proximity. Their lips twisted into matching smiles, mirroring their contentedness for one another.
It was there, in a hotel room in San Diego, that something changed. Their hearts had opened, totally vulnerable with clear skin that exposed the delicate and vital workings of their minds. They talked in length about childhood, aspirations, traumas, and other life-altering occurrences. The two reached a new understanding, delving deep into their psychologies and producing a profound and unknown intimacy.
"I feel like this is what I've been waiting for. I've spent my whole life in bated breath, searching for something. I hadn't known quite what it was until I found you. You are a key that's opened all my doors, pushed all my windows open. You're a smoke in my lungs, one that is wholly cleansing and alluring." He spoke words of affirmation now, toying with the ends of her hair. His eyes glistened with intense lust, one not intended for matters of the flesh. His fixation was on her figure, the gentle curve of her waist connecting with her hip, a smooth and righteous sight. This did not mean he was longing to consume her body. The desperate flicker in his eyes, set on her skin, was an effect of his need for closeness. He wanted to feel her skin under the calloused pads of his fingertips, to be enraptured in the scent of her. An orgasm was the least of his concerns at this moment. He was content to touch her.
She too wanted desperately to hold him. A spell of love was put over them, causing her to pull him in close. He was first facing her, lips dangerously close, but she encouraged him to turn over. Finally, he pressed himself against her, their bodies in perfect contour as they molded together. The expanse of his spine dug into her commodious chest as he took note of the feeling of her. The swell of her chest was soft and fleshy like sweet, summer fruit. His longing to touch her vanished when he felt her deft fingertips in his hair, massaging his scalp. His eyes rolled in his head at her calming touch. He was almost asleep in an instant.
As she explored every inch of his crown his frame grew smaller in her arms. He was shrinking under her touch, morphing into the child he described. She imagined him sitting at the breakfast table, munching away at toast and guzzling tea, just as he had delineated earlier. A maternal instinct grew in her. She was now watching over the man she lied with, protecting him from the fallacies that plagued his mind, ones that had been developed over a lifetime of undue criticism. Her mind raced over the picture he had painted of a demure boy, latched to his mother's side, one who closed his eyes and shook his head at any chaos or change. He told her of his propensity to hide. He found a spot everywhere he went to tuck himself into, shielding his sensitive heart and prying eyes. She imagined now that she was holding that boy, bringing him impossibly close to the beating spot in her chest.
His eyes were still shut, having fluttered closed the moment he felt the heat of her body against him. A gentle hum built in the back of his throat when her hands found his neck, massaging away at the tense muscles. He was melting completely under her touch. His lips cracked open, a sigh escaping. This caused a laugh to ripple from her, disrupting her attack on his worries. He could feel them burning off now, steaming as they flew from him.
When her tired hands stilled, he turned over, gaze resting on her reposeful face. Her eyes were still ragged and red, stained with tears. The beauty that danced on her features was not understated, still present even in the stale sadness. Traces of the tantrum existed but threatened her splendor not. A quiet production began, a duet that neither rehearsed. He reversed their roles, now cradling her tired frame in his arms. His hands explored her body, drawing patterns over the fabric of her clothing. It was soft, a gentle plea for closeness. Tears pricked in her eyes, foreboding and terrifying her as they threatened to release. A sniffle built in her, echoing through the quiet room. This caught his attention, causing him to pull her impossibly close. He petted her hair and kissed each inch of her that he could reach. The tears scalded her face, cascading in a stream of sadistic madness. His thumbs wiped these tears, washing her pain and drinking as it drained from her pores.
She felt peaceful in his grasp. He held a paternal grip on her, slowing rocking as she wept. His patience was fatherly, soft, and affirming in the way only belonging to a man totally in love. In this protective hold, relaxation befell her, rest finally finding her.
His hands tangled in her hair, even long after she fell into a sleep. He stayed up for half the night, leaning over her and listening to the steady composition of her breathing. A feeling fell over him, shaking him. Never before had he felt so completely at home in a person, naked and eased under her gaze. He was drowning in love, lungs wetted by her treacly tongue.