Ashes Remain

by Alethea Stauron

  She pats the cracked leather of his door frame. “You take care. You’re gonna be a good roommate.”

  Lucius whispers, “Unholy hell.” He rests his head on a blade handle. “She bought it. She stink’n bought a wagon of lies.” He grunts, “Yep…” staring at his dagger, “definitely can’t read his mind anymore.” He twirls tightly braided leather in his hand. “I didn’t even realize I pulled this weapon.”

  Drake drives off. Josephine stands waving at her new housemate. Lucius is left sending hate darts with his twitching eyes through the tree line. “I very much can’t stand him.”

  Josephine ends her day wrapped in a long shirt, and semi-wet hair laced across her pillows. The flowery scent of rinsed shampoo spreads over linen and stretches beneath her queen-sized blankets. “I’ll see you in my dreams, Lucius,” she says as she drifts off to sleep.

  Lucius smirks a soft grin toward damp strands curled over each other. “Your hair’s still wet, baby.” He leans over and places her in a deep sleep. “I cherish our nights together,” kissing her cheek, “even though you don’t know I’m here.” He paintbrushes his lips across her ear. “I’m here when you wake. This is the worst… and best torture.” Her lashes touch his, as he whispers across her skin. “Don’t listen to any lies Drake tells you about me. I never left you.” His voice touches her tongue. “A part of you knows I didn’t.” Josephine faintly smiles with a stretch toward him.

  After a couple of kisses, he says, “I’m gonna marry you, baby. I wanna feel you hold me again. The way you held me when you knew I was here.” He elevates her hand over his cheek and comforts himself, caressing his skin with her half-curled fingertips. His eyes close and he pretends that she’s stroking his jawline. He imagines her eyes are open. He imagines she’s wearing his wedding ring. He imagines he belongs to her. Flutters enter his stomach and send him into a sharp, deep breath as he pictures her belonging to him. “I want this with you — your love.” He pretends she knows everything, and has nothing to hide. That he has opened up about everything — she’s okay with it all. And imagines she could understand a small portion of his secrets. That she’s not scared of him. Everything’s okay.

  His daydreaming continues until he almost tastes the sweet smell of a Gamerin family breakfast in the air. The life he longs to share with her, wrapped in the smell of frosted cinnamon raisin bread rising with the sun, watching her morning eyes greet him with a smile. The way he believes it should be. Normal. Everything is normal for them. And he’s forgiven of his past and comforted by his wife. He inhales her aroma deeply. “I want this. No restraints when you show me your love. I wanna feel your sweet love every morning and every night — forever.” He gazes down at her. “I’m never gonna let you go. A loyal husband.”

  Lucius memorizes her curves beneath the blanket until his eyes are stopped abruptly at a purple bandage. “Aw, my love. I’ll kiss your boo-boo for you.” He uses his favorite form of healing her. His lungs expand with her tiny index across his lips. She’s healed completely by a kiss.

  He removes her bandage and presses fingers against his jawline. “This is where you say…” mimicking her female voice, “I love you too, Lucius.”

  She smiles in her sleep with the warm feeling of entering a bathtub. And for him as well. The closest he can be to conversing with her — without entering her dreams. “You feel me.” He rests his head over the back of her hand, forgetting how many times he’s already kissed the area before opening her palm to touch against his face again. “I can feel you loving on me in your dreams. You’re comforted. You feel safe with my voice. You see me there, Josephine. This feels so real to you.” He buries his head between her neck and shoulder. “I hurt when you think it’s a dream. I know it’s important. And safer this way. But…” he shakes his head, “I don’t wanna live like this. I don’t want to live in an existence where I only have you in your dreams.” He gazes at her. “I wanna feel you hold me… really hold me. And you know I’m here… embracing you with all that I am.”

  Lucius kisses her cheek and enters her dream with a proper greeting. “Where are you taking me in this dream?” He allows her permission to take over in her mind, connecting to her with his bio empathic ability.

  ◆◆◆

  Josephine is lying beside a warmly lit fireplace. There’s little space between them. His purple plaid sleeve is swathed around her ribs by his warm arms keeping her supported against him. She dives deep into turquoise-cobalt eyes. These are his warm waters. The moments when he’s comforted and at rest. She sees the color of his eyes change, expressing his mood. But these are the moments he gives her, memorizing his eyes. His warmth. The way he wants her to know him. Only his peace with her. The true color of his Gamerin eyes.

  She says, “They’re beautiful.” His squared cheekbone rubs beneath her fingertips. “As wild as Hawaiian blue water… but tamed in your beautiful eyes.”

  Lucius says, “I don’t know about tamed.” He snuggles her and snickers. “You’re the only one that’s ever tamed me. I’d give you everything. All that I am.”

  “I love you like this.”

  “Like what…” he answered. “Ready to give you everything if you asked it of me?”

  “No. You. Just you… with me.”

  “Me too. I’d give up worlds to have this — to have you. You’ve brought me to life. A part of me is alive that I had forgotten was there. I was seriously dead without you, but now I breathe. I breathe because you breathe. Your breath…” exploring her eyes, “… is my breath.” He rolls his fingers along her collarbone. “Your heartbeat,” and taps lightly over her skin, “… is my heartbeat.” He kisses her nose. “And your nose…” he smiles, wiggling his index over a soft point…

  “No,” giggling, “you can’t have that.”

  “Too bad.” He nibbles her neck. “It’s my nose too,” he says as he munches.

  Josephine squeals in laughter. “Okay. You can have it all.” She gazes at him. “You wanna know something?”

  “What?”

  “I read your thoughts sometimes and… I’m in love with you too.” She brushes her lips against his lips. “I can feel you.” Warmth elevates with her statement. Her words draw out the overwhelming feeling. “I feel you and you’re lying beside me.”

  “How do you do this?” His lips are already wet against her, as she breathes. He pulls her leg over his hip and reminds himself out loud, “We can’t get carried away. I told you I can’t. Help me be a good boy?”

  “You always stop before it gets good. But we wanna be together. And… I feel you leaving. Lucius… why do I feel you leave? I’m left making love to a ghost of you.”

  “Don’t say that. This kills me to think that I can’t experience love’s touch the way you can.” Misplaced jealousy looms over the shadow of him in her mind. “Believe me…” he resumes his kisses, “… I wish I could.”

  “But why do you leave?”

  “Because…” shuddering to restrain himself. He tries to remember what was so important. To remind himself what it was again — the driving reason for him to maintain mental purity. His perfect reasoning is failing him. But he ekes out a mediocre, “I can’t give in.” Her warm lips, soft body, and willingness to please him every night has become a bit of a stumbling block for him. He believes he’s a professional by now, with perfect excuses and rehearsed answers. He’s spent months building a wall. However, she’s darn good at tearing them down and leaving him to rebuild a new one. He constantly thinks of better arguments to block temptation the following day, or five seconds after the irritating pulsations of his body finally subside. His mind highlights all of the comfort that she could bring — a natural bonding between them. She could be a form of protection, healing for his heart, a shelter in the midst of his storm.

  I’m in love with the general’s daughter. So in love. I wanna be with her. Don’t let her have power over you. Stay strong. Don’t give in… not like this.

  “Who?” She pulls away.

&nbs
p; His mouth is open and jaw loosened. He’s still half-drunk over the steam he’s been sipping, from her vivid dream. “What?”

  “I read your thoughts… who is she? Who’s the general’s daughter?”

  ◆◆◆

  Lucius disconnects from her dream. His eyes broadened in the bed and he becomes completely sober while replaying recent phrases in his mind. “Um… that didn’t sound good.” His head flings back as he stares at a ceiling fan making slow circles. “Great. Now she’s gonna be mad at me, thinking I’m cheating on her.” He winds his fingers. “Time for a redo, baby.” He reenters her dream.

  The scenery has changed.

  “Oh, crap.” He stands in front of an ash filled fireplace. There’s no blankets on the ground. The atmosphere is cold in that portion of her mind. “I’m in trouble.” His head falls to his shoulder as he stares at an empty space over the living room rug. “Where’d she go? Now she’s gonna punish me.” There’s no pallet hugging the floor. A dark living room is unwelcoming to him.

  And

  Slam

  Dresser drawers move hastily, opening and shutting in the master bedroom. “Baby?” He runs upstairs. She throws objects and belongings into a suitcase. He asks, “Baby, baby, baby. What are you doing,” wrapping his arms around her, “Calm down.”

  “I’m moving her out,” Josephine snapped.

  “Who?” He faces her. “Who’s moving out? Baby, what’s wrong?”

  “The general’s daughter. She’s not allowed.” Josephine fights the tearful irritation floating across her eyelids. “No one touches you.”

  “I agree.”

  But she pulls away anyway and thumbs back at herself. “How dare you. I’m your wife _

  “Wife?”

  “Well, almost properly…” rubbing her frustration between two fingers, “Anyway… I’m not competing with any hussy.” She plugs a finger down toward the bed. There’s a flung open suitcase riddled with mismatched belongings from what her mind pulled together during a fit. “She’s gone.”

  “Stop, baby.” Lucius embraces her. She struggles with him for a moment, but he manages to pour out his peace and eases her body some. He shushes her as quietly as a soft breeze. “Shhh, calm down, baby.” And strokes her shoulders. “You don’t understand. I could never love anyone else. Not the way I love you. My heart desires to be bonded to you. I want us bound together.” He signals toward her suitcase. “Whose things are those?” He allows her eyes to follow where he points. “Pay attention, baby, think of what you’re saying. Hear your words, if you wanna find the truth.”

  “What?” She realizes the belongings she’s been throwing in the suitcase. “They’re mine?”

  “Baby…”

  They connect their gaze.

  “You’re the general’s daughter…” his eyes fluctuate between hers, “and somehow you just figured that out… on your own. Pay attention to it. Hold that thought.”

  “But you—

  “No one’s competing with anyone. Please…” he begs, “hear your words. Say it again. Who are you?”

  “I’m…” her mind reverts to previous worry, “So you’re not in love with someone else?”

  And like that,

  his heart falls. Her mind fails to connect the subtle dots within the dream. He exhales and eases her with his words. “I’m faithful, baby. I’ll only ever love you, and I’ll only bond with you when I have permission. I’m already connected to you.”

  “I don’t understand,” her head shakes with a wisp of a recurred thought. “The general’s daughter? Why call me that?”

  Warm hope caresses her cheeks. He says, “Find out who your father is. Baby, find out, so I can marry you. I’m dying with want to hold you. I can’t bear it anymore. I’m gonna wind up making a mistake… not able to —

  “Like what? What are you afraid of? What mistake?”

  “I wouldn’t even know how to tell you. Not like this. Not without you knowing.”

  and…

  Lucius disconnects from her dream and pulls himself away. He hunkers into a slouched position toward the end of her bed and angles his expression back at her. He knows it. The emptiness is all too familiar. Remembering how short his visits are and how long the torturous hours nibble away at him, until, the next visit. Or how her blanket stretches to one side where he got up. Or how she has no idea how tempted he is in waking her the first few seconds of letting go. Every night. Every morning before she wakes. But hope has a way of embracing him. Hope moves in when thinking of how she might be coming around. Hope glides from his tongue, “That’s gonna be my spot someday,” and waves his index, “nobody else’s.”

  He stands to his feet, fixing blankets for her. “Certainly not some punk in a cowboy hat.” He pauses, studying her stretched out arm reaching for an empty pillow. A space still filled with his fragrance. He collects her hand. “I’m here.” His eyes are blurred, and kissing her skin, “I’m here — always. Even if you…” Lucius’s expression falls, deciding to change the subject for his own good. Erasing the thought of a worthless pair of cowboy boots under the bed. Or cheaply made cowboy hat dangling from the desk chair. “This is my spot,” one last time for good measure. “And I’m not gonna steal it either. It’ll be given to me by your father.” Somehow saying it helped. The words. The sensation of earning her love. And the love of her father. The right to be her husband. He’s slightly eased. Maybe not much, but enough to stop weeping for the night.

  Her hair is draped over moistened pillows. “Little momma,” stroking her locks, “don’t go to bed with wet hair. This makes me tired healing you so often.” Lucius glances over. Curtain sheers slightly blow from opened windows. He huffs a smile back toward her, “I’m gonna close your windows, so you don’t get cold.” He takes three steps, gripping the windowsill, “I know why you do this,” and jostles his jawline, “You sneaky woman. Listening for me when I…” quoting fingers, “…when I visit.” Lucius closes windows. “I’m glad you lock the door now,” and uses a twang in his voice, “But what would your daddy say? Mmmm?” He gazes out the window, locking it.

  But…

  headlights catch his attention. “What’s that?” Creeping headlights that are sluggishly swerving a line up the road. “Who the heck,” Lucius asked. Slow moving wheels make a doozy of a line. And he recognizes the car. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Lucius’s jaw drops. “Drake.” His teeth grind, “We didn’t order delivery,” and activates his camouflage. Drake’s car enters the driveway and Lucius starts making steps toward the visitor. “I’m already sick of this guy.”

  ◆◆◆

  Drake wrestles with his car door, still tangled in a seatbelt merely wrapped over him instead of clicking. He rolls himself up to stand with a quick jerk back into his seat. Drake mumbles his favorite cuss words under his breath, sounding more like gurgling a cough.

  Lucius tilts in watching him, “What’s this guy doing,” wondering how long someone could take to exit a vehicle.

  Drake finally raises up, standing, or what appears to be standing straight on his own. His independence is short-lived, hanging onto his door before his body topples toward the hood.

  Lucius glimpses into the car. No one. “He drove out here by himself like that? Moron.”

  Drake stumbles over white gravel. “Time… make ‘er happy I’m liv’n here,” He’s leaning more and more with each step toward the front porch. “I’m making ‘er call out my name.”

  “I’m gonna kill him,” Lucius gnaws on his fist. The urge is vastly overtaking him to cross the line with every step. Permission. The rules of war. With every word that exits Drake’s mouth, Lucius struggles in keeping his feet planted.

  “I’m not stay’n ‘ere like some renter. Like some virgin fool. Like —

  “Oh… it’s about to happen. Oh Lord, I can feel it…” Lucius draws two swords. The blades stretch, “If he takes one step in the house.”

  Drake mutters, “Not stay’n in a lil’ room next to a potty. She’s
gonna want me wit ‘er when I show ‘er,” and he falls forward.

  Silence

  Followed by snoring.

  “Augh,” Lucius snarls with a couple steps back. His mind castigating himself for how easily he was about to stand trial for something he could have behaved differently in. His guilt is chewable. Cheeks flushed, releasing swords back into their quiver. He squeezes his lids, “This guy’s inebriated,” walking toward Drake’s car. “I’m better than this. I’m not gonna break rules over a drunk man who probably can’t piss a straight line.” Lucius sits against the car hood. Breathing. After a few minutes, he swivels his gaze in watching the visitor lying two feet from the bottom step outside. “Probably take him fifteen minutes just open the front door. If he decided to wake up.”

  Drake has flattened sprouting grass along her stone walkway. He slaps an area of tickling vegetation against his nose, abruptly stopping his snoring. He resumes his sluggish first intentions, making his way toward cedar steps several times.

  Lucius’s head shakes, staring off. “Absolutely pitiful,” and gazes at stars, “Did I used to look like this?” Drake staggers up two steps before falling back to her sidewalk stones. Lucius shrugs, “Maybe he’ll land on his head,” stroking his chin, “Interesting.”

  Drake boot camps a crawl over wooden beams. On his stomach, searching a welcome mat, “She’s gotta have…” and his head falls for a quick nap.

  “Oh, my Lord.” Lucius’s head dives into a slump. “No way this guy was getting upstairs.”

  Drake lifts his head, wiping drool from his lip. He carries on a few moments later, “I know a key is somewhere.”

  “Again,” sighing, “I don’t need camouflage with this stupid guy.” Lucius opens Drake’s car door. He sets the gearshift into neutral. Lucius glances back, watching Drake’s fumbling through pot plants and patio furniture. He says, “Let’s see what this does.” And opens an interdimensional space, taking out a small remote causing electrical interference with battery-operated devices. Lucius winks.