by SL Naeole
I got on my knees and crawled on the bed towards him. I watched him flinch as I reached for his hand, but he did not take it away when I clasped it in mine. He did not respond when I squeezed it either. "Robert, I did not mean hurt you or make you jealous by mentioning Graham. I-I thought you'd have realized by now. I mean, you can read my mind, after all..."
He did not look at me, instead focusing on some unseen thing outside of my window. I looked at the reflection of his glow that bounced off of the glass and sighed.
"I guess I hide my thoughts better than I thought," I mumbled. I took in the distance between the two of us, trying to determine if he'd have enough time to bolt before I could get closer. I crawled quickly, until my face was just a foot away from his. I could see that his eyes were cold and hard, frozen in his anger, but I could also see the hurt and confusion that he felt in them.
"Robert, I'm sorry that you feel so strange, but I'm not sorry that you're feeling it because of me," I whispered, my heart feeling a familiar twinge as I continued, "but even if you hadn't felt it, it would not change the way I feel about you."
His face was so still, his eyes unmoving. I waited for some kind of reaction, anything. After fifteen hundred years of mastering the art of secrecy, I knew that I wasn't going get anything out of him but silence. I had hurt him without recognizing it.
The expectations that I had subconsciously placed on him had been too high; I took for granted the fact that while he was an angel, he was also a man, with a heart and a mind, and I had hurt him when I had failed to realize that he had seen my thoughts, seen the images and the dreams that I'd had of a romantic future with Graham. How could he not have known--not have seen that those were images that I now looked back on--not with regret, but with gladness--because the future I pictured wasn't with Graham, but with him?
Meeting Ellie tonight had put a lot of things into perspective. I simply couldn't keep how I felt inside for fear of rejection anymore, especially not when there was a chance that I would not have as much time with Robert as I would like. He wouldn't be able to heal me one day, and he wouldn't be able to postpone my death if that's what was my fate; I simply couldn't face my future if I didn't let go of my fears. So, with an all too eerie sense of deja vu, I said the words to him that I had said less than two months ago to someone else, only this time, I wasn't hesitant, because this time--this time I knew, not in my heart, but in my soul that I had no reason for doubt.
"I love you, Robert. You don't have to say it back. I don't need to hear it. Saying it is enough right now. Saying it is the only thing that will make me feel better. I love you, I love you, I love you."
I placed my hand on his heart, and laid my head on his chest, not knowing what else to say or do. I listened to his breathing, his heart beating the same rhythm it had drummed for so long, and I heard the way my heart seemed to follow it, keeping pace as it sped up when I again thought those three words.
I looked down towards the foot of the bed, and I could see the faint reflection of the two of us in my mirror above the dresser. His glow, muted by his clothes, illuminated just enough of my face to show the glitter of tears that rested against the bridge of my nose, the glint moving ever so slightly with each ragged breath that I took.
I watched as the purple radiance lightened, turning into a deep orange. It reminded me of the crystals and flowers that had decorated the wedding reception, and I couldn't believe that it had only been a few hours ago that the two of us had been dancing, happy and content.
So involved in my thoughts was I that I didn't feel his arms wrap around me, or feel his hand stroke my hair. It was only when I heard his sigh, heard the intake of his breath through his chest, did I notice that I was no longer simply laying on him, but I was being embraced, comforted.
I'm sorry, Grace. I-
I lifted my head to gaze at him, "I don't need apologies, Robert, not for anything. Just...don't turn away from me. Okay?" His eyes were softer. Not exactly liquid, but not steel, and definitely not icy. It was enough for me. I laid my head back down on his chest and closed my eyes, sighing when he began stroking my hair again.
How disappointed you must be in me.
I shook my head. "I'm not disappointed in you. How could I be? You're still here; you didn't leave."
He placed both hands on my head then, and lifted it to look at him again. I don't know if I can give you everything you want, Grace. I don't know if I can be everything to you that you want me to be. Once I get my wings--once I get the call--I cannot guarantee you that I'll be able to remain here, be with you. There will come a time when I will have to leave...
I smiled sadly in the darkness. "I'm seventeen, Robert. The only thing I want is to spend as much time with you as possible. The only thing I want you to be is you. I'm not foolish enough to think beyond today. Not anymore. You might have forever, but the only guarantee I have is right now, and that's all I need. That's why I don't want to waste any time worrying about what I didn't say, or what I want to say. Because I know...I know that you'll have to leave me someday, and that I only get now."
"That sounds very mature of you, Grace, and woefully ignorant," he groaned, speaking for the first time, "but I'm glad you feel that way." He brought my head to his, and kissed my hair before letting me go, wrapping his arms around me once more.
I snuggled into his embrace, content and relieved. And brave. "Can I ask you another question?"
He nodded, albeit tentatively.
"Why is it that you've never felt--that is to say--why now?" I thought the rest of my question, not exactly brave enough to articulate it any further than that.
"Why haven't I ever been jealous before? I don't know. Maybe it's because I've never had any real type of competition before. You're the only person who's ever been...a challenge. And I told you, Grace, I wanted you to see yourself in my home, and you brought him up instead. You pictured him in my home and not me. He fills your thoughts, and it's hard to be in your mind when it feels like I'm not even a part of them." I could feel the tension in his body and the pain that tainted his words, and I hated myself for being the cause.
"Robert, Graham has been a part of my life since we were in diapers. Whatever--wherever my life takes me, I think he'll always be a part of it. I've always known it-" I chewed the inside of my cheek as I processed what I had just said, a thought forming in my mind "-and I think, that is why it hurt so much when he rejected me; I knew he was supposed to be in my life. Maybe not in that way, the way that I thought I wanted at the time, but in some form, and having him simply not existing there at all was like a piece of me was missing."
I raised my head again so I could see his face, look into his eyes as I continued, "I know now--I know that he's supposed to be in my life, but as nothing more than my friend. I love him. I never stopped loving him, even when he broke my heart, but if he hadn't, I think I'd still be sitting at home, pining after him while he continued to date Erica behind my back."
Robert's face, which had seemed so pained just a few minutes ago, now bore a smug smile. He shifted his weight, rolling the two of us over so that we were both on our sides facing each other. I think that you and I would have still ended up right here. He lifted his hand to brush a strand of my hair behind my ear, his smile turning sweet. Either way, I'm glad that Graham was too blind to see what it was that he was giving up by choosing Erica. If not, I wouldn't be able to do this-
I held my breath, and refused to blink; he placed his hand on the bed to brace himself as he leaned towards me. Slowly, carefully, his lips--soft, warm, and perfect--found their way to mine. I want to say that it was magical, that I saw rainbows and fairy dust or something fantastic like that, but I couldn't. It was more. Much more.
It was as though the world has fallen down around us, and everything was frozen in ice. But I wasn't cold. I was blazing hot, the fire starting where our lips joined, where angel met mortal, and I could feel the flames flickering out towards the limbs that I was fighting with desperatel
y to keep still, not wanting them to latch onto him, not wanting to seem out of control because at that moment, I would have given anything to be just that.
His lips weren't insistent. They weren't demanding and they weren't anything but soft and gentle. I pulled away then, because God help me if they ever chose to be. And, also, because I needed to breathe. I knew that the dizziness I felt wasn't for lack of oxygen, but rather because something had changed between us, as though finally admitting how I felt had made me more attuned to him in some way. Breathing was simply a distraction.
Robert laughed softly at my thoughts, but I could see by the way he was breathing that I wasn't the only one who had been affected. His chest was rising and falling quite rapidly, as though he had been breathless, too. You think breathing is a distraction?
"I think you're a distraction," I responded, trying to remember that breathing in meant I had to breathe out as well. "Breathing is...difficult at the moment."
He brushed the side of my face with the back of his hand, rounding the curve of my cheek slowly, stopping to touch my lips with his fingertips. Breathing is a necessity for you humans, and if kissing you causes you to have difficulties, I might have to refrain from doing it again.
I gasped at his thought. "It's not that difficult!"
The soft laughter that filled my room plus the hand that was still finding its way around my face, as if to map out each and every angle and curve did wonders to distract me; when he leaned in and formed his lips to mine once more, I was completely taken aback. This time, there was no preparation, no time to tell my body what to do. My hands flew to his neck, to his face, greedy for the feel of his skin, the texture of his hair, the cut of his clothes. I never understood why authors used the word "pawing" to describe the way hands would touch a body during intimate scenes until my hands were doing just that. It felt almost primal, the way I was reacting, and had I been anywhere else, I might have even growled. But I wasn't anywhere else. I was in my bedroom, on my bed, with Robert, and the door to my bedroom was slowly opening.
I braced myself for the onslaught of yelling that I knew would soon be filling the house again. Instead, I felt my face fall onto the comforter of my bed, my muffled voice covering my surprise at the warm yet empty void on my bed.
"Grace? Are you okay?" Janice called out softly. "I heard some noises in here. I wanted to make sure you were alright."
"Mmm-hmm." I mumbled, turning my head towards her just enough so that I could see the door out of the corner of a now exposed eye; I was hoping that there was nothing else for her to see other than me on my bed. Alone.
"Okay. I was just checking. You go back to bed. Good-night."
"Mmmm-mihhh."
I watched as she walked out, pulling the door closed behind her. As soon as I heard it click shut, I was up, looking for the familiar glow. Instead, I felt a tickling sensation near my feet. I looked down, but in the darkness I couldn't see anything. I knelt on the ground and looked under my bed but saw nothing. I stood up and looked at the window. It hadn't been opened any further, and I wasn't sure if he could mist that quickly, so with no other option left, I headed towards the closet. Slowly, I opened the door. "Robert?" I hissed.
Why are you looking in your closet?
I whipped around, my arms flailing around instinctually to lash out at the voice, and crashed into an angel shaped wall. "I've done this before," I muttered, mostly to myself between gasps.
The wall began to shake with quiet laughter as it wrapped itself around me and carried me back to my bed. "You laugh at me now. I was very embarrassed that first day."
I was intrigued.
Of course he was intrigued. I was different. Different can be interesting, but how long until different just becomes boring?
Robert smiled as he lowered me onto the comforter. I don't know if I'll ever get bored with you. I'm not sure if I can. He lay down next to me, the two of us resuming our previous positions of lying on our sides and facing each other. You've made me feel things that I've never felt in all of my existence. I don't know how that is possible, but it is true nonetheless. But Grace, I want you to understand something. What you said to me, about loving me...I don't want you to say it to me again. It isn't because I don't want to hear it, but rather because I don't want you to say it without me being able to say it in return.
My hand went to his mouth, as if it were pulled there, and began to trace the curve of his bottom lip. I stared at it, mesmerized as I tried to reason with him. "Robert, I don't expect anything from you. I've already been told once that I expect too much from people, and I finally admit that is true. I expected way too much from Graham, from Dad, even from my Mom. And, I mean my goodness, how easy it would be to expect the world from you! But I can't. I won't. I won't ruin it by wanting anything more than what you have to offer me. This--this right here is more than I could have ever hoped for, and I'm going to relish this moment no matter what happens tomorrow."
When he kissed my finger, I closed my eyes. It was such a simple gesture, yet it was enough to warm my skin and send shockwaves down my arm. I opened my eyes when he started to share his thoughts again. Grace, you sound like you're settling for what I can give you, rather than what you deserve.
My fingers pressed against his lips, as though to silence his thoughts so that I could speak again. "I'm not settling. How can simply loving you and, knowing that for me that is enough be settling? I can't think of having done anything that would warrant me deserving you, so how can feeling this way about you be settling? "
Robert sighed and reached for me. He pulled me close to him, my face pressed up against his neck, my arms locked against his chest. He rested his chin on my head and started reciting something. I listened carefully, the words sounding so familiar...
And here, in thought, to thee--in thought that can alone. Ascend thy empire and so be a partner of thy throne. By winged fantasy, my embassy is given, till secrecy shall knowledge be in the environs of Heaven.
I felt the slow tugs of slumber creep on me as I replayed the words over and over in my head. Before I succumbed to the sweet lull of his voice, I made one last request. "Stay."
I was asleep before he could answer, but in my dreams I heard him reply forever.
GROUND RULES
The alarm was going off again. I don't know why I never turn that thing off. It's not as though this was the first time. Waking up at such an early hour on Sunday was just unforgiveable in the slacker's handbook. I groaned and tried to sit up to attack the heinous buzzing contraption, but a weight against my waist kept me still. I turned my head and met the full impact of two liquid silver eyes.
Good morning, sleepy head.
I never could grasp just how a morning could truly be good--well, good enough to greet anyway--until just then, when I knew that last night hadn't been a dream, and that he had listened. He had stayed. "Robert!" I whispered gleefully. I reached for him, but again, the weight on my waist held me down. I glanced down to see what it was and observed that it was his arm. "And I thought I was the one who had asked you to stay," I teased, my hand finding his on the side of my waist, lacing our fingers together.
You toss and turn a lot in your sleep, your dreams are so vivid and...violent. I was afraid you'd kick me out of the bed and then wake up and get mad at me for not staying. He smiled, and I knew that there had never been a more beautiful thing to wake up to than that smile, even if he was teasing me.
I giggled and then sighed when he leaned in and placed a soft kiss against the corner of my mouth. Come on, sleeping beauty, it's time to get up. Your father will be ready to tear my head off in about half an hour before taking you to the hospital, and I have to make sure that I'm presentable. He listened to my silent question and grinned. He'll want to know why I'm still in my tux, and I can't tell him it's because I spent the night in your room.
Grasping onto the seriousness of the situation, I sighed again. "Well, I guess you'd better let me get up then so I can get ready." His arm l
ifted and I sat up, the loss of the weight making me feel suddenly bereft. I climbed to the foot of the bed and reached over, slamming my hand against the droning buzz coming from the alarm and basked in the resulting silence. Feeling the need for urgency, I ransacked my drawers for a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. My first pair of jeans in weeks! The amount of satisfaction in that thought was immeasurable; at that moment, I didn't care if Dad grounded me for a month!
Clutching my clothes to my chest, I looked over at Robert, who was lying on my bed, one arm propping up his head, his other arm lazily toying with my comforter and I silently thanked Janice for seeing a need there and changing it. "I'm going to change in the bathroom."
He smiled, already knowing that was my plan. My head was clearer to him now. He could see beyond the fog and the void that my cluttered mind portrayed. And, I could feel him in there, too. How odd.
I wanted to know what that meant, but I needed to change and brush my teeth first. The idea of waking up with him in my bed and scaring him away with dragon breath was enough to get me moving at a pace that would rival his own. It was when I had closed the bathroom door and stared in the mirror that I could hear his laughing in my head.
I ignored it as I quickly changed my clothes, being very careful to avoid the mirror just in case he chose to not be so gentlemanly and take a peek. That was going to be difficult now that I had made myself aware of it, this whole privacy thing. I knew that if I made him promise to never do that, he'd be tied to it, but I had to admit to the small, minute, microscopic part of me that almost didn't want to. Almost.
I brushed my teeth. Twice. And I headed towards my room, crashing into Dad in the process. "Um. Morning Dad."
His eyes were still glazed over from sleep, and his hair looked as though he'd fallen asleep under one of those vacuum hair-cutting deals, but he was still shrewd enough to give me a once over, as though he knew something else was different about me. I was too cheerful this morning, I told myself. That's what it was.