"I want to-"
"Crawl inside."
"No, stop. I can't I'm-"
"Not single. I know, you said it before."
"Jack-"
"I love the way you say my name."
His fingers touched her lips, a melting of magnificence. She could hear nothing but the sound of crickets in the forest surrounding them.
"All alone, no one will-"
"Find us? Why should they? They are all blissfully drunk by now."
Her eyes wandered to his tattoos. To the life-lines decorating his flesh.
"Tell me, what does this mean? Where does it lead you to?"
"I didn't get them to mean something."
"I know but-"
"You don't know, Abigail. You know nothing."
"Stop quoting Game of Thrones, Jack. You know all that show is, is rape and murder."
"And that's as bad as feeling as though your heart's been ripped out by its roots?"
She sighed as she leaned back against the large maple tree. Years ago she feasted on the small sugary candies made by this tree. Treats her grandfather would bring her every time he returned from Canada. And now she was here, living a life that was still brand new to her.
"You know I could never leave him."
"Marriage is a sacred vow, yada yada."
She looked into his eyes, green, intense, insane. They reminded her of a time where she spoke in green tongues with some fairy she'd captured in a bottle. How could she not fall hard? Addictions are terrible things.
She fiddled with the gold band on her finger. She knew that even though he had come here all alone, his missus was back home, waiting for his return.
"Years, years I have-" he sucked in a breath and looked away from her. "I had wanted you every since I saw you, ten years ago, back when you visited for the summer."
Then you could have done something then! She wanted to scream. Back when we were both single and things could have been uncomplicated! Why? Why didn't you?
His eyes found her and his hands reached to her. Unwillingly she was pulled close. She closed her eyes. He smelt of cigarettes and dingy bars. She knew that she didn't have to look at him to see him. She knew every ink stain on his skin, the curve of his lips, the shade of green in his eyes. She could shut her ears, too, yet still know the way his breath hitched when she touched him, the sound of her name on his lips, not Aba-gail, but Aby-gail, no one else spoke her name with a twist. He wanted to be the only one.
"We have this moment, this place in time."
"Aint enough."
"It's all we've gone. pretend it is enough."
© Christine Bottas. All rights reserved 2015-2016.