Fall

Another short story:

The gleaming headlights flashed in my eyes through the windshield. The night was dark, few cars left traipsing on the highway. I settled for a turn on sixth street, not really knowing where I am heading. I kept driving without a destination in mind until I reached seaside. Winds were blowing in all directions, swaying the leafless trees in the fall. I parked beside a flickering lamp post and left my '96 Corolla unlocked. It was bitterly cold, temperature playing around 50s. I doubled up my long-sleeved top with a thick fleece coat and walked barefoot on the beach. My feet shuddered as it touched the cold. As I kept walking, I found a decent spot near the rushing waves of the sea. I sat there a bit trembling and sucked the breezy air of the evening through my nose.

Just as I was about to leave, after a few minutes of respite, I felt some warm hands cover my eyes. In an instant, I knew it was his, those long rough fingers and soft palms.

 

"James?"

"I hate you," and he gave me a kiss on the cheek which always comes as a surprise.

"How'd you know I was here?"

"I just knew when you didn't return both my calls,"

He slid onto my side, holding me on a tight embrace. We sat there looking into the sea's horizon, not saying anything. We just knew from the moments of our silence that it was enough, words deemed unnecessary. The only sounds were the seagulls' scream, the splashes of the waves on the shore and our quiet breathing. I turned to him, brushed my lips on his and put my head on his chest. For another night, I am grateful. I could only hope tomorrow won't be any different.

Warmth

His voice was a bit raspy but his words came amazingly clear to me. I don’t know if it’s the added lip gloss that I’ve put on that evening or the blanket of stars above us or the shrill gasping of the winds around. Or maybe just his presence before me. Whichever it was, it certainly heightened my joyous spirits and nearly brought me to nirvana.

“What are you thinking?,” I asked.

“This night, how the weather completely feels good.” He muttered. “You?”

“I’m thinking about this plaid mat that we have here, the way we’re sitting under the stars doing nothing but being together. The smell of the grass and the sound of the wind’s gushing. I'm thinking about you, I'm thinking about us. I don’t want this to end.”

He just smiled and nudged me to him. I was sitting in front of him on my back, with his arms wrapped around me I could feel his every breath. I pinched his palms and played with his pinky. He fought back and grabbed my right hand and wrestled on it. I clasped his hands on me and at length, our hands were intertwined. His hands weren’t warm or cold but however, I’ve always relished the moments I’ve held his. It’s always like a thing I have to treasure every chance I get. I rested my head on his shoulders and I felt his lips touch it. I felt him squeeze even more.

“I love you, Dave. I fear not being with you.”

And just when he was about to utter the words which will make my evening even more delightful, just as I was about to turn to him and gaze at his green eyes,

I woke up in the autumn’s cold night.

**I used to write poems when I was in high school. Got more dramatic now: prose is better. I'm so cheesy.