Swing Life Away
Heat from a promising sun warms through large glass. He gazes at lines and angles and pavement beneath and beyond. He's perched, bare chest and open denim. Oversized, underused, expensive and hollow is the space he's finished with. Fresh juice and eggs, complete and gone, now one last drag… maybe another. The habitual vice fills his lungs, it's kept the anger within. And that's when he knows, hours passed in the new dawn… for once, absent is the thought and consumption of the evil who molded their future. The stranger who held his own anger that day, the one who needed another, then one more. The one who stirred heat and metal, speed and danger with her sweet, soft flesh and soul.
He pushes dark tangles back and away from his favorite view. He teases a sleepy head and lazy morning beauty. She returns a smirk, a faint moan. Resting, rolling his forehead at hers, he loves. It's time to adjust and ready her damaged being. This day he's planned, in process already… before the nightmare and noise and cold and pain. Changes and adjustments made for the new and different… for her, for them.
She nods to start the struggle. He offers to hold, to carry always before, especially now. But today, she'll try. He's wide eyed, eager and elated. He finds the aid she needs. Suddenly, his heart swells and races from this simple gift she gives.
It's slow, so, so slow. But they have time in their forever. He hovers, strong hands waiting, protecting. He stares, still… marveling, overwhelmed. Her lip is trapped, her arms are tensed. Every measure forward forces, tests her will. Silence surrounds, save for the wheels that roll. She's righted, taller than ever, blowing labored breaths of victory. He's there to reward, to celebrate. Cradling her flushed cheeks, they smile… together against parted lips, sighing, amazed.
The drive is vivid, organic textures so rare in their usual scene. Windows open, they revel in a warm breeze, a possibility. Waves, tendrils whip, framing her gorgeous face, it wears the expression he hoped for. Her fingers tenderly trail patterns over his. He brings her hand to his mouth, brushing, tasting the inside of her smooth wrist. He only smirks in reply to her playful, arched brow. She wonders how far they'll go, on this day and the next.
Earth still uneven and untouched greets the same vehicle they drove there a decade ago. Focused on the familiar ahead, she absorbs the surprise. He opens her door, this time he takes her in his capable arms. She wraps and melts, nuzzling her appreciation at the base of his neck. Grasses, weeds and wildflowers reach his knees, laughter at memories ignite their hearts. Innocence and firsts… touches and more in this place only they know.
Branches and blankets of leaves whistle a welcome. He places his love gentle but firm on the weathered tree swing they remember so well. Laced fingers over the rough, worn rope to steady until she's sure. He rushes back to the trunk, no more time to waste. He grabs the white slick paper rolled tight.
She's secure, better when he's near, she stares at the treasure tucked under his arm. Knowing, understanding, believing, they mirror each other's emotion. It's easy, it's real… it's theirs. What will be their rhythm and ritual… swinging away life, right here in this peace. He moves behind her, pointing out and ahead. He details style and sight, curves and accommodations. That's when she leans less, falls more against his chest. She sobs silently for the ways of the present and the soon that aren't her fault, for the babies they can't have, for the love they can't make. "I'm sorry, Edward."
He inhales, breathes in all that she was and now is. Stifling a cathartic gasp of heartbreak, his lips pressed at the top of her head… "I love you, Bella."
A stunning banner created by my madly talented friend and writing partner, jaimearkin, was the inspiration for this drabble. Moments, a slice of life and unconditional love...
We've posted a complete, short love story, Beneath the Undertow, over at aftrnoondlight. Please come say hi…
Thanks for reading xo