Long Way Home
Page 56
Her spirit is hurting, weak and in need, and so is mine. I don’t know much either. I’m confused and blinded by the fog we’ve stumbled into, but Violet is real and warm and a fortress by which I fall to my knees whenever I come into contact. I need her, she needs me and tonight we just need to hold each other.
“I can’t make promises,” she says like we’re in a church.
But I do have a promise for her. “I love you. I always have, always will. I understand the promises you’re talking about and I understand why you can’t make them, but I’m going to make a promise to you. No matter which way this plays out, I promise to love you and do my best to make sure whatever path we go down together or separately will be the one that hurts you the least.”
Violet tilts her head as if my words hurt her while at the same time hugged her. She reaches up, her fingertips sliding across my face, and before she has a chance to pull away, I capture her hand and press it against my chest.
“I love you,” I repeat.
“Please kiss me.”
I release her hand, it remains on my chest, over my heart, and I tunnel my fingers into her hair. My thumb caresses the smooth skin of her cheek, and as I lean forward, adrenaline hits my bloodstream.
There’s a pull to her, there’s always been a pull. Violet’s the gravitational force that rights my world, but this time, this kiss, it’ll be imprinted in my brain, a memory that will last until my last breath.
Our mouths are only centimeters apart, and I can hear and feel her slight intake of air. When she wets her lips, I draw in closer and kiss. A light brush, a slight shake as if this is the first time, as if this is the last time.
Another press and her sweet familiar scent envelops me. I lick her lips and Violet gives, becoming liquid in my arms. She opens herself to me, her fingers in my hair, her legs tangling with mine, our mouths and tongues moving in ways that only come with years of understanding what makes the other shiver, what makes the other yearn for more, what makes the other feel as if the only way to be complete is to be of one body and skin.
Fire. Waves of flames lick through my veins and my fingers lift the fabric of her shirt in an effort to help the growing heat. We shift as we continue to kiss, her hands just as greedily taking off my shirt, helping me with hers, and then we’re shedding more, touching more, remembering, retracing, rememorizing, reliving all that was and is glorious between us.
There’s a rhythm, one that had been relegated only to dreams. Holding her in my arms, feeling her caresses along my spine, her kisses along my chest, her body moving in a way that causes my mind to become fuzzy and warm, I want nothing more than to crawl inside her, to become one.
I move my hips, Violet gasps and curls further into me, but then she shakes her head, allowing her nose to rub against my cheek. “We can do things, but not that. My heart won’t recover if we do that.”
Make love. We’ve made love before, but after doing it a few times, she said she wanted to wait to do it again. That she didn’t regret it, but she didn’t know she wasn’t ready until it was done. I told her I’d wait until she was thirty. I’d wait because while waiting we found other ways to love, other ways to touch, other ways to make her cling tighter to me and whisper my name.
So we do those things. We touch in ways that make my head spin, ways that cause her to nip at my neck, pull at my hair, press her body to mine so that we’re skin against skin and bring us to a high that spirals up so fast, so quickly that when we reach the pinnacle, we both squeeze the other, then tremble in the beautiful aftermath.
There’s a heat built between us, and as we struggle for breath, the first chill of the real world bites at our skin. Goose bumps form along her arm and I reach down, then pull the thick comforter over both of us.
Violet cuddles into me and I can’t stop myself from feathering kisses along her face, in her hair, and I whisper the same words over and over again. I love you.
She holds on to me as if she’d fall off a long drop if she were to let go and I hold on to her just as tight.
“I want to stay here,” she says against my chest. “I want to stay the night here with you.”
“Then you will.”
It doesn’t take long until her body grows pliant, her breathing becomes light and she flinches slightly in her dreams. My own body is heavy from sweet exhaustion, but it’s tough to let this moment go, to not fight to stay awake so I can enjoy her next to me.
Letting her go for a moment, I reach for the remote, point it at the TV, and that’s when I spot the bag on my dresser. My heart stalls. Her birthday present. Violet’s birthday present is on my dresser and then I run a hand over my face. She’s eighteen. She turned eighteen in the basement. I remembered that night but then forgot and not one person has figured it out. All of us, including me in a way, forgot her birthday.
I look down at my sleeping beauty. See the rare peacefulness on her face, feel the way she trusts with how she’s wrapped around me. Yes, I’m going to love her and I need to love her right.
Violet
TWO MEN HOLD CHEVY, another hits him with metal fists over and over again. Blood bursts from Chevy’s nose as the blood in my veins whooshes in my ears. I scream, but no one’s listening. I yell, but my words are a silent rain. They’re going to kill him. He’s going to die. A gun in a hand, it’s pointed and then I’m running. Running toward it, running for my death and then there’s a shot... Bang!
My eyes open, I sit up in the bed and I put my hand to my chest trying to calm my heart as I gasp for breath. I’m covered in sweat and I’m shaking. A check of the new cell Mom bought me confirms it’s four in the morning. At least two more hours before we need to start getting ready for school. Beside me, Chevy’s in a deep sleep. I slowly breathe out as it hurts to look at him. He almost died in front of me, and if he had, I never would have forgiven myself.
“I can’t make promises,” she says like we’re in a church.
But I do have a promise for her. “I love you. I always have, always will. I understand the promises you’re talking about and I understand why you can’t make them, but I’m going to make a promise to you. No matter which way this plays out, I promise to love you and do my best to make sure whatever path we go down together or separately will be the one that hurts you the least.”
Violet tilts her head as if my words hurt her while at the same time hugged her. She reaches up, her fingertips sliding across my face, and before she has a chance to pull away, I capture her hand and press it against my chest.
“I love you,” I repeat.
“Please kiss me.”
I release her hand, it remains on my chest, over my heart, and I tunnel my fingers into her hair. My thumb caresses the smooth skin of her cheek, and as I lean forward, adrenaline hits my bloodstream.
There’s a pull to her, there’s always been a pull. Violet’s the gravitational force that rights my world, but this time, this kiss, it’ll be imprinted in my brain, a memory that will last until my last breath.
Our mouths are only centimeters apart, and I can hear and feel her slight intake of air. When she wets her lips, I draw in closer and kiss. A light brush, a slight shake as if this is the first time, as if this is the last time.
Another press and her sweet familiar scent envelops me. I lick her lips and Violet gives, becoming liquid in my arms. She opens herself to me, her fingers in my hair, her legs tangling with mine, our mouths and tongues moving in ways that only come with years of understanding what makes the other shiver, what makes the other yearn for more, what makes the other feel as if the only way to be complete is to be of one body and skin.
Fire. Waves of flames lick through my veins and my fingers lift the fabric of her shirt in an effort to help the growing heat. We shift as we continue to kiss, her hands just as greedily taking off my shirt, helping me with hers, and then we’re shedding more, touching more, remembering, retracing, rememorizing, reliving all that was and is glorious between us.
There’s a rhythm, one that had been relegated only to dreams. Holding her in my arms, feeling her caresses along my spine, her kisses along my chest, her body moving in a way that causes my mind to become fuzzy and warm, I want nothing more than to crawl inside her, to become one.
I move my hips, Violet gasps and curls further into me, but then she shakes her head, allowing her nose to rub against my cheek. “We can do things, but not that. My heart won’t recover if we do that.”
Make love. We’ve made love before, but after doing it a few times, she said she wanted to wait to do it again. That she didn’t regret it, but she didn’t know she wasn’t ready until it was done. I told her I’d wait until she was thirty. I’d wait because while waiting we found other ways to love, other ways to touch, other ways to make her cling tighter to me and whisper my name.
So we do those things. We touch in ways that make my head spin, ways that cause her to nip at my neck, pull at my hair, press her body to mine so that we’re skin against skin and bring us to a high that spirals up so fast, so quickly that when we reach the pinnacle, we both squeeze the other, then tremble in the beautiful aftermath.
There’s a heat built between us, and as we struggle for breath, the first chill of the real world bites at our skin. Goose bumps form along her arm and I reach down, then pull the thick comforter over both of us.
Violet cuddles into me and I can’t stop myself from feathering kisses along her face, in her hair, and I whisper the same words over and over again. I love you.
She holds on to me as if she’d fall off a long drop if she were to let go and I hold on to her just as tight.
“I want to stay here,” she says against my chest. “I want to stay the night here with you.”
“Then you will.”
It doesn’t take long until her body grows pliant, her breathing becomes light and she flinches slightly in her dreams. My own body is heavy from sweet exhaustion, but it’s tough to let this moment go, to not fight to stay awake so I can enjoy her next to me.
Letting her go for a moment, I reach for the remote, point it at the TV, and that’s when I spot the bag on my dresser. My heart stalls. Her birthday present. Violet’s birthday present is on my dresser and then I run a hand over my face. She’s eighteen. She turned eighteen in the basement. I remembered that night but then forgot and not one person has figured it out. All of us, including me in a way, forgot her birthday.
I look down at my sleeping beauty. See the rare peacefulness on her face, feel the way she trusts with how she’s wrapped around me. Yes, I’m going to love her and I need to love her right.
Violet
TWO MEN HOLD CHEVY, another hits him with metal fists over and over again. Blood bursts from Chevy’s nose as the blood in my veins whooshes in my ears. I scream, but no one’s listening. I yell, but my words are a silent rain. They’re going to kill him. He’s going to die. A gun in a hand, it’s pointed and then I’m running. Running toward it, running for my death and then there’s a shot... Bang!
My eyes open, I sit up in the bed and I put my hand to my chest trying to calm my heart as I gasp for breath. I’m covered in sweat and I’m shaking. A check of the new cell Mom bought me confirms it’s four in the morning. At least two more hours before we need to start getting ready for school. Beside me, Chevy’s in a deep sleep. I slowly breathe out as it hurts to look at him. He almost died in front of me, and if he had, I never would have forgiven myself.
