A candid tale of 20-something humanness and extended note to self.

Sunday, 30 August 2015

1945


He kissed her, his arms wrapped tightly around the curve of her back as his tongue weaved gently into her mouth, his lips consuming hers, his fingertips teasing the base of her spine.

'Do you have any idea,' he muttered softly, 'how much I missed you.' He turned his head and nudged her cheek away from his face, beginning a trail of soft kisses down her neck and along her collarbone.


'How did you live without him?'
'I just kept breathing. In and out. I did little else for a long time. But then I let myself remember what a blessing it was to have meant more to him than anything else ever did or ever will. And the colour came back.'


'It wasn't the thought that I may die, even that my brother's might. It wasn't fighting for my last breath or feeling my lungs explode or watching the world collapse around me. Those things brought little fear. It was you. Never having this again: that was what scared me the most.'
'Shhh. I know.'
Her tangled hair tumbled down her nude back as she lowered herself onto him.


'Do you think you'll ever see him again?'
'I don't know. I'm not sure I believe in an afterlife. I'm not sure I believe we'll be reunited- that he'll be waiting for me, stood all handsome in front of the pearly white gates in the sky. But I know that when my time comes, I'll be going where he's gone. Even if there's nothing else. Even if it's just in the nothingness, we'll be together. Everybody we've ever loved and lost will end up in that place, together. That thought has to be enough, for it's all I have left.'


Their bodies curled around each other as the midnight fatigue consumed them. 

They were young and great and hopeful of course, and with this great, hopeful youth came their great invincibility, and with their great invincibility came the great impossibility that one day this would all be over, that one day this precious, simple moment would be a precious piece of their entwined history that would never again be recreated.

'I don't ever want to have to say goodbye to you again.' She whispered.
'I know.'
'Promise me there'll never be a day when you won't come home to me.'
'I promise.'
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