Tuesday, May 06, 2008

Spartans, Part 6

This popped into my head last night. Not sure if I'll continue on with it, or go a different direction that I've also been working on. Most likely, I'll mold the two together some how... Not smut, I swear!

Note: Arwan speaks “broken” Greek with the shop keeper, and Xander.

Spartans

The city was quiet, which in itself was kind of unusual. Training was going on in another part of town, but even the mid-morning market was particularly stoic. Arwan glanced around, almost nervous. No one had died…War wasn’t upon them. Why was it all so quiet?

“What’s the matter, dear?” The woman at the fruit stand caught his shifting look.

“Why so quiet?” Arwan asked. “No one die, right?”

She laughed, “No, no…just a quiet day, I guess. My husband may have said something about seeing some riders heading towards town, but it’s not like that would bring us any trouble. We are in Sparta, after all.” She laughed again, rather jovially.

Arwan nodded, continuing to fill his basket with fruit. He paid her with a few shinny coins, and went on his way. He wasn’t surprised to run into Helen who was sprinting away from home –obviously in some kind of a hurry.

“Arwan!” She grinned, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, spinning him around with her as she slowed down from her run. “You’re just who I’ve been looking for!”

“Oh?” Arwan raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Just so you know…there are riders coming towards town. They’re, well, they’re Persians. They’re nearly here. Sirius may be worried about you knowing them. He’ll want to see you before they get here.”

“Persia is a big place, Helen. I doubt that they are here for me,” Arwan shook his head. “But I have to go find your brother anyway. Even though the big doofus still isn’t talking to me.”

“He’ll get over it,” Helen shrugged. She hugged him again. “I best be off.” She kissed his cheek before continuing on her sprint.

Arwan continued with his morning shopping. The air was still eerily still, and it was making him uncomfortable. He did his morning routine as quickly as he could so he could go find Sirius and clear up and misconceptions they might have had.

Oh, come to apologize have you?” Sirius looked up from where he was examining a broken sword hilt in the training encampment.

“No,” Arwan shook his head. “Helen told me there were Persian riders coming towards the city. She thought you might be concerned.”

Sirius looked up, raising an eyebrow, “Persian riders?”

“Yes.”

Would they be here looking for you?” Sirius said the thing that was on everyone within earshot’s mind.

I don’t think so,” Arwan shook his head. “As far as anyone knows, I’m dead. You well know I was the only survivor of that fight.”

“True enough,” Sirius nodded. “But that doesn’t mean there weren’t others. You hid pretty well, Arwan.”

Should I take that as a compliment?”

Sirius shook his head, “If they’re here looking for you, they’ll have to come see me first. We’ll see what they want before we do anything about them.”

Arwan nodded. He paused for a moment to see if Sirius had anything more to say before turning to go. Sirius glanced up at his retreating figure, wanting to say more, but kept his mouth shut.

The group of four riders entered the town by mid-afternoon. They looked out of place, and obviously a little nervous. Sparta had its reputation for not being very open to visitors, which was true in a way. But Persian visitors had even more reason to be uncomfortable. Over five years ago, when their army had been desecrated by the Spartans. Since then, tension had remained high. The Persians recognized the Spartans as being more powerful, better organized, and unsympathetic. The Spartans had found the Persians to be sluggish, cowardly, and all-around low. It was easiest to say they didn’t get along together very well.

“What’s your business here?” The Ephors, the council of the King, were waiting to greet their visitors.

“I’m looking for my brother,” The sleek voice was surprisingly fluent. “I was told he might be here.”

“Oh really?” Xander, a very tall and regal looking man in his mid-thirties, spoke up. “And whom might your brother be?”

“His name is Arwan. He was in a battle against you five years ago. He never came home. But his body was never found either. The few survivors that made it back alive,” he spat, “said he was captured.”

“And even if your brother is here…what is your business with him.”

“Our parents have died. As well as our sister. He’s in for a large sum of money, as well as some land. I thought it would be appropriate for him to claim his inheritance, if he is still alive.”

The ephors turned to murmur together before Xander against addressed the newcomer, “Your brother is here, but we do not have the rights to allow you to him. You will have to seek out the warrior Sirius. He will be in the training barracks –but you cannot go there unaccompanied. Please, leave your horses to be fed and watered, and I will escort you to him. He will decide if you may see your brother.”

The men slid from their horses, and the bright-eyed Persian that had spoken, wasn’t shy about asking questions. “Who is this Sirius?”

“He is your brother’s master,” Xander explained. “Sirius saved him –Arwan will be the first to admit that.” He slid his eyes over to the strange man that walked beside him. “What is your name, Stranger?”

“My apologizes –I didn’t realize I hadn’t introduced myself,” The stranger shook his head. “I am Bast –my company is Atish, Cyrus, and Milad.” He introduced the bodies behind him, “I’m sorry –they don’t speak Greek. They simply came along for company, I’m afraid.”

“That’s alright. Your brother doesn’t really speak that much Greek either, but we’ve put up with him over the years.”

The walk was a short one. Sirius was surprised as the large group of foreigners, headed by Xander, that was headed towards him. He raised an eyebrow as they approached, setting aside the belt he had been working on repairing.

“What’s all this about, Xander?”

“This man,” he nodded towards Bast, “claims to be Arwan’s brother, Bast. He wishes to see him.”

Sirius tried not to show the panic that rose in his chest, on his face, “Oh really?”

“Yes,” Bast spoke for himself. “I realize my brother is a prisoner—“

“Your brother is not a prisoner,” Sirius stood up. “You know nothing of the life your brother has. You must be a younger brother, aren’t you?”

Bast looked taken aback, “Y-yes. But what does that have to do with anything?”

Sirius stepped closer, stabbing Bast in the chest with his finger, poking him backwards, “Your brother has never been my prisoner. I saved him from being killed by blood-thirsty soldiers from my own army. He is my servant, yes; my slave, yes; but never my prisoner.”

“Is there truly a difference?” Bast was not moved by Sirius’s speech. He turned his head away, ready, as Sirius lifted his hand to slap him. But Sirius stopped, shaking his head.

“You’re not worth the trouble,” he shook his head. “You can see Arwan if he has want to see you. But don’t cause any trouble. I will have no second thoughts about running you through.” Sirius’s hand went to the hilt of his sword on his hip for demonstration. “Xander –Arwan should be at home. You can take these visitors there… Keep an eye on them.”

“Of course, Sirius,” Xander nodded. “—Would you come this way then, please?”

Sirius watched their retreating forms. For the first time, he feel worry and fear creeping up into his chest. Two things that he hadn’t felt since he was a child.

“Xander?” Arwan opened the door to him. “Is Sirius all right?” A visit from a member of the Ephors was almost never good news. He looked up past Xander, into the faces of the Persians. His eyes widened and a grin opened on his face. “Bast!” He slipped through the door to hug his brother.

“I take it that he’ll see you,” Xander nodded. “Arwan –perhaps we could take this inside?”

“Ah, yes,” Arwan nodded, ushering them inside. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to find you,” Bast took a chair in the sitting area of the room that Arwan led them into. “ I have some sad news for you.”

Oh?”

Mother and Father passed away almost a year ago. Sareh too.”

Arwan nodded, “Ah. I understand.”

“Then you understand that you’re coming into a large amount of their fortune, as well as a large piece of land. You are the oldest son, Arwan.”

Arwan shook his head, “My life is here now, Bast. I can’t go home. Even if I wanted to, Sirius would never let me.”

“How do you know, have you ever asked?”

“Why would I leave this place?” Arwan countered. “I have a life here now.”

“You’re a slave, what kind of life is that?”

“It’s my life,” Arwan shrugged. “Did you ever to stop to think that I may enjoy it? There have been many perks to being Sirius’s servant. I live in this house almost all alone, I get to go out of my own accord, I have friends. I have duties. I have a purpose.”

“You’re a wife,” Bast spat.

“Maybe I am,” Arwan shrugged. “Even if I am, what’s wrong with being a wife? Sirius is a good man –anyone would be honored to be his wife.”

“I didn’t come all of this way to fight with you, Arwan. I came back here to take you home, and that is just what I will do.”

“I can’t just leave,” Arwan shook his head. “I would need Sirius’s permission, and he would never allow it. I’m telling you that right now.”

“What about your inheritance.”

“I guess it’s yours now,” Arwan shrugged. “I’m in no position to claim it.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say, Arwan,” Atish spoke up. He had been listening to the brother’s quarrel with interest. He reached up to brush a lock of Arwan’s hair out of his face. “You should claim what is yours. This Sirius person seems like a good man –surely he would allow you time to mourn for your parents. Time to go home, and claim what is yours. You could come back.”

“People always want to go home again, Atish,” Arwan looked up at his old friend. “But there will always be something there that is holding them back. If I go home, I may not come back here. There are too many things there that are going to grab hold of me and keep me. I would rather not chance it.”

“Like what?” Atish prodded. “Bast is your only family left. Your wife left our city without child. She miscarried shortly after you left. All she could think of was how disappointed you would be when you got back…but when you didn’t return with the others, she disappeared.”

A pang twisted in Arwan’s stomach. When he had left to go to war, his wife Neema had been pregnant. He hadn’t thought much about her over the years since he had been gone. She had been a marriage of convenience. Arranged by their parents, and brought up closely together. They had been good friends but lousy lovers. She always thought he should expect more from her, and he found that she tried too hard to please him, when he just wanted her to be herself.

But in truth, Arwan had always preferred his male childhood friend to Neema. Atish’s soft words were always more helpful then hers. Even after they had both married, Atish’s marriage much more successful then his, he was surprised to find that they still had time for one another.

What about you, Atish? If I go home, would you let me leave again?” Arwan looked up into his bright blue eyes.

If it was what you really wanted,” Atish nodded. “I would let you go.”

“How charming,” Bast spat. “You two are just as queer as ever.”

Atish smiled, wrapping his arms around Arwan’s shoulders, “Ah, well, your brother was my first love, Bast. I may be married with five children, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him any less then I did back then.” He pressed a kiss to Arwan’s cheek. Xander cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow.

Arwan reluctantly pushed Atish away from him, “Ah, Sirius would no like that, right Xander?”

“No, I don’t think he would,” Xander confirmed. “But I won’t tell him –so long as it doesn’t happen again.”

Ach, what does the Spartan say?” Atish asked, scratching his forehead.

Sirius is rather…overprotective. I don’t think he would like you touching me in such a way,” Arwan shook his head. “I’m sorry, Atish.”

Atish shrugged, “It can’t be helped.”

“So, you won’t come home?” Bast brought them back to the reason they had come all the way to Sparta. “Not for anything?”

“Brother, even if I wanted...”

“Is his heart made of ice?” Bast bit. “What harm is there in at least asking?”

“Sirius and I are…we’re not very cordial with one another right now. We’ve been arguing for the last couple of weeks. If I ask him now… Well, he’ll take the request the wrong way. You came at a bad time for us.”

“What are you? His lover?”

Arwan raised an eyebrow, “What if I was?”

“Then maybe it would be best if you didn’t come home,” Bast shook his head.

You come all this way to ask him home, but when I tell you I may have a male lover you disown me? That’s a little critical don’t you think, Bast?”

“It isn’t that you have a male lover. It’s that you would choose him over your own family. I’ve known about your perchance for men since we were adolescents. Your marriage was always a kind of sham. I am not in the least bit surprised that you would have chosen a man to fall in love with.”

“Who said I was in love with him?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Sirius takes care of me. But he wants things I can’t give him.”

“But you love him.”

“Maybe I do. It’s complicated.”

“Everything is complicated in love and war. That is why they are so similar.”

“I wish love was as simple as war,” Arwan shook his head.

I concur.”

The group turned to look at the voice in the doorway. No one had noticed Sirius arrive, and a blush crept up Arwan’s face, hoping he hadn’t heard too much of their conversation.

Sirius, what are you doing here?”

“I was concerned,” Sirius stepped into the room. “Apparently I had good reason.” He put a hand on Arwan’s shoulder. “I am sorry, but Arwan can’t go with you.”

“Why not? You said yourself he isn’t a prisoner here.”

“Because I need him,” Sirius’s fingers tightened on Arwan’s shoulder. “Even if I were to let him go, I have no guarantee that he would come back. And I simply cannot live without him.”

“Are you really such a child?” Bast countered.

Sirius nodded, “I am. And just like a child, I don’t like to share. It’s never been something that I am particularly good at,” He gave a pointed look at Atish, sizing him up. “I respect that you have a past with Arwan –you’re his brother and his friends. However, that part of Arwan’s life is over now.”

“Sirius,” Arwan looked up at him, concerned.

Sirius shifted his eyes to look down at him, “Arwan, do you want to go home?”

Arwan shrugged, shaking his head, “There’s nothing there for me.

“The hell there isn’t!” Bast shouted. “What about me? What about Atish? Are you going to push him aside too?”

Arwan looked up at Atish’s hurt expression. Slowly, he lifted Sirius’s hand from his shoulder, and stepped closer to his best friend, “You know that I love you, Atish. But, you have a good family. You don’t need me anymore.” He turned to his brother, his eyes trying to hide his sadness. “Even if I came home to stay –I’ve always been weak. I don’t have a right to burden the rest of you. Life here is hard sometimes, but I can handle my duties. Starting a brand new life back in Persia… It’s not possible for me.”

“Then I came all of this way for nothing,” Bast shook his head. “I am sorry for wasting your time.”

It was good to see you,” Arwan touched his arm. “All of you.”

Bast shrugged off Arwan’s hand, stepping towards Sirius, “You had best take care of him. If I find out he’s been hurt in anyway, I won’t think twice about coming back here and slaughtering you.”

Sirius gave him a curt nod, “I understand. Before you go…you’re welcome to stay and visit. My house is open to you for as long as you would all like to stay –if Arwan would like to see to guests that is.” He looked down at Arwan. “Would you like them to stay for a few days?”

Arwan nodded, turning to his brother and friends, “Please, you don’t have to leave so soon. You must be tired from travelling. Stay and rest for a day or two before you go back.”

“No,” Bast shook his head. “We were delayed on our journey here, so we should get back as quickly as possible. Arwan, if you change your mind, you know where to go.” He got up from his chair, and beckoned his compatriots to follow him.

Xander stretched, getting up from his chair once they were gone, “Well, that was certainly exciting. I had best go and return their horses to them. Sorry for all of this trouble Sirius.”

“No trouble, Xander,” Sirius shook his head. “Thank you for not killing them on site.”

Xander gave him a soft smile, patting Sirius’s cheek, “What can I say, I have a soft spot for the Persian boys myself.”

Sirius waited for the man to leave, closing the door to the house behind him. Once they were gone, his arms wrapped around Arwan’s waist from behind and his chin rested on the top of his head. The two stood in the quiet room in silence, Arwan lifting a hand to touch Sirius’s wrists at his waist.

Finally, Sirius spoke up, “I’m sorry for the strain between us lately. I don’t even remember what we were fighting about.”

Arwan shrugged, “It’s alright.”

“I want to make it up to you,” Sirius pressed his lips against Arwan’s neck. “Will you let me? Please, let me.” Arwan hummed, turning his face away from Sirus’s lips as he kissed his neck.

“Not right now. Perhaps later.” He reached up to touch the top of Sirius’s head. “It has been a trying day. And I’ve been distracted from my usual chores.”

“To hell with your chores,” Sirius shook his head. “Right now, I want to confirm that you’re all mine.” He turned Arwan around in his arms, tipping his face up to kiss him. “You may come willingly or I will resort to force. The choice is yours.”

“Sirius,” Arwan smiled, shaking his head. “You don’t need to force me to do anything for you.”

Sunday, May 04, 2008

Point of View

A local art magazine (Volume One) is doing their annual fiction contest. This is the piece I am thinking about submitting, but I'm not quite sure about it yet. So far, people have liked it.

Point of View

The wind whistles outside and the door slams loudly behind me. I am late and he’s upset. I know because of the number of text messages and voicemails on my phone –which finally buzzes to life after I plug it in to charge. I half expect him to come racing down the stairs, frantic with worry. But he hasn’t.

His footsteps are calm as he comes down the stairs, ducking under the over-hang. I look up at him, silent. He’s not my keeper –I’m my own person. He can’t be mad at me just because I’m an hour or so later then I said I would be.

“Where’ve you been?” He finally says, crossing his arms over his chest, after getting comfortable on the couch. “I called. I texted.”

“I see,” I wiggle my charging phone at him. “My battery died. I would have called. You don’t need to worry about me all the time, you know.”

“But I do have to worry, damn it!”

He’s mad. It’s understandable. I’ve been late like this a lot lately. Once I had been in an accident, and now all he could do was fret. He was the type of guy who would lock the person he loved in a tower if he was able. And I guess I had somehow ended up being that person.

“Look, I have things to do. I can’t be exactly here you want, or think I should be all the time.” I shake my head. “I was at work and then I picked up some groceries. The bags are in the car.” I don’t mean that to come out as a challenge to my word, but it seems like it comes out at as one.

He sighs, “Do you see the weather out there?” He gets up from the couch, crossing the room. His hands feel heavy against my hips as he pressed his forehead against mine.

“It’s raining,” I say.

“Yeah. For all I know, you could have been struck by lightning or who knows what else.”

“Paranoid much?”

“I just care about you; why do you chastise me for that?”

“Because sometimes, I think you care too much,” I break his hold on me. His hands fall to his sides. I turn away from him. I can’t look at him anymore.

Now I’m mad. He’s so fucking clingy all of the time. He’s not controlling, but he’s got this habit of neediness. It pisses me off.

I stalk back to the kitchen and open the fridge. It’s kind of bare and I remember that all of the groceries I just bought are still out in the car. I sigh and the fridge creaks as I close it, shaking slightly on its base.

“You want help carrying that stuff in?”

His voice is soft now. He knows he made me mad. He’s not sure why, but he’s trying to make up for it. I’m not going to let him, though.

“I didn’t need your help getting it into the car, so why would I need your help getting it out?”

I try to ignore the wince at the corner of his eyes. He probably things I don’t notice that it hurts him, but I do. It was kind of the point of saying it.

“Okay,” he nods. “I get it. I’ll just go back to work then.” He turns around and I hold back my sigh. I’ve always thought he looked damn fine from behind. I don’t call him back. I don’t need him. I don’t like feeling like I need him.

The rain hurts as it pelts against my bare face. My hair flies into my eyes and I brush it away only to have it back where it was a moment later. My trunk is filled with plastic bags. I load up my arms with as many as possible so I don’t have to make two trips. I fail miserably and have to come back out for the gallon of milk.

I hear him walking around upstairs. He is probably pacing while on the phone with a client. We keep the floor between us for a couple of hours. After putting the groceries away, I putz around downstairs. I fold the laundry that has been sitting in the living room for the last two days. I watch a little television. I poke our little hamster awake and watch him zoom around the room in his purple ball.

I hear the door to his office open upstairs and I can hear him talking.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, we’ll deal with it tomorrow. I’m going to sign out for the night, man. It’s getting late…” His laugh is intoxicating. “That prolly means you deserve a break. –Yeah, have a nice night.” The phone beeps and a minute later, he is taking heavy steps down the stairs.

“Folding socks?” He ducks under the overhang again.

It’s a stupid question. He just wants to hear my voice. I don’t reply, just keep my eyes trained on the TV. My hands are busy with the folding. He sighs heavily when he sees that I won’t be responding to him. He sits on an empty portion of the couch and takes a pile of socks from me to help.

“Are you going to be mad at me all night?”

“I was never mad at you,” I lie. “You were mad at me.”

“Is it wrong for me to worry about you,” he asks. He tosses a mated pair to a basket across the room. It misses and rolls across the floor. It stops short of where our hamster has paused to wash is face. “I don’t get your attitude lately.”

“You’re fucking clingy and it drives me nuts –that’s my fucking attitude lately.”

“You don’t have to yell at me. I’m sitting right next to you.” His face is turning red and I don’t really understand why. I tend to be a little robotic when it comes to feelings. That’s why I don’t understand how I found such a great guy like him. Not when I’m just a soulless idiot. He deserves someone better. Someone who isn’t me.

He doesn’t agree with me though. When we fight, he tells me I’m just looking for an excuse not to be with him. He tells me I don’t have the right to decide if I’m the one for him. He tells me that he loves me.

I tell him he’s full of shit and if he knew any better, he would just run away from me. As far, and as fast, as he could.

The couch shifts as he leans back against the arm. We’re out of socks except for a few straggler “lost-in-the-wash” singles that will turn up the next time one of us does laundry.

“You want to do something fun tonight?” He asks. He folds his hands behind his head, like his cranium us too big for his neck to support.

“What did you have in mind?” I bite. He does this when I’m mad at him, Suggests something fun. Sometimes it is. Sometimes it isn’t. But by the time we’re in bed, I’m not mad anymore.

“Arcade? You can take out all of your frustration on the gophers,” he teases.

The arcade does sound like fun…

“I don’t have any money. I just spent it all on groceries,” I turn away to idly watch the television again.

“Hello…who’s your sugar-daddy?”

“Baby, if I had a sugar daddy, I wouldn’t be here folding your stupid socks.” I throw one of the stragglers in his general direction. It lands haphazardly on his shoulder, and he brushes it away.

He sighs, “I’ll pay for the arcade. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t intend on paying. Now stop being a little bitch, go change out of your work clothes into something sort of slutty, and let’s go out.”

I look at him. I know he’s reconsidering what he has just said because of the way I am looking down at him. He starts to say something. Starts to say that he over-stepped his bounds. That I’m not a bitch. That I can dress however I like. But before he can, I nod.

“Okay, fine. Give me five minutes,” I get up, and hoist my clothes basket onto my hip. “Put hammy back in his cage.”

He watches me, his mouth slightly agape as I climb the stairs. I don’t look back at him.

Even through the bathroom door, I finally hear him move downstairs to do as I had directed. I take my time changing. No reason to make him think that I am doing this for him. I don’t dress as sluttish as he would probably have liked, but it’s enough to get a low whistle as I descend back down the stairs.

The arcade is loud when we walk in the door a while later. It is still raining heavily outside so it’s not busy as it might normally be, but it’s still busy enough. He goes to the counter and gets us tokens and puts fifty dollars on each of our gaming cards. I wonder where he gets all the cash he throws around.

“What do you want to play first?” He asks. His arm slides around my waist as we approach the games. I look around at all of the flashing lights and bright candy-like colors.

“Give me your tokens.” I’m not shy about reaching into his back pocket to take out a handful of the little gold coins.

“The token-slots? Really…”

“Easiest hundred tickets you can make, baby,” I tell him. I sit down in front of one of the machines. He shakes his head, kissing my cheek.

“I’m going to go play the claw machines. Back in a bit.”

I nod, watching the pile of gold coins fall into the slot. The tickets click as they begin their pile on the floor.

Half an hour later, I’ve only spent a fraction of his money, but I’ve won a few hundred tickets by now. I move to the redemption machine and put the tickets on my gaming card. I look around for him while I wait for the tickets to disappear back into the machine to be recycled.

I see him across the room, brushing off some girl trying to hit on him. She touches his arm and laughs, throwing off his concentration. I notice he’s got quite the pile of winnings from his claw machine –those are his favorite. He’ll present his toys to me later, like they were a breeze to win. But I know the truth. He works hard to uncover the item he really wants if necessary. The other winnings are just bonuses.

With my tickets redeemed, I make my way over to him, sliding my arm around his waist. He relaxes, knowing my touch across his back.

“Hey baby, win me something pretty?” I kiss his cheek as the machine dings, signifying a win. He turns to smile.

“I think I got some stuff you’ll like.” He kisses me back and his little friend, the flirt, looks surprised. Like a guy who hangs out in an arcade on a Tuesday night could never have a significant other. She scurries away like a cockroach after the lights have been turned on. “How’d you do?”

“About 500 tickets,” I shrug. “You want to play something with me? Free-throws or something?”

“Sure,” he nods. He takes my hand, linking my fingers with his.

I beat him twice, once very narrowly. We claim our tickets and move on to a trivia game which we fail at miserably. Then we try a couple of racing games and before we know it, we’ve only got a few dollars left on our gaming cards. Since we got there, I’ve forgotten that I was mad at him. I think he has too. I suggest we go to dinner before heading home and he agrees.

We leave the arcade and step back outside into the pouring rain. It doesn’t feel like it’s going to be letting up anytime soon, but it feels…different. Before we had left the house, it was heavy. Now it feels refreshing, even though it’s the same amount of rain.

We choose a restaurant close to the house. Not for any particular reason other then that we both like the food. But even the restaurant is quiet tonight. No one wants to chance the rain. We are obviously a pair of crazies.

It’s a little strange having the restaurant to ourselves, but it’s also kind of nice. We don’t have a problem hearing each other over the din. We apologize for earlier. He was just worried. I was just being an idiot. I thank him for a fun time. He thanks me for being so damn cute, and kisses me over the table. His foot presses against mine underneath the table.

Later when we’re in bed, I listen to him breath against the back of my neck. He’s not quite asleep yet. I can tell because of the grip he’s got on my t-shirt, his fist placed against my hip. He is relaxing, and his breath is beginning to slow. Once his hand has relaxed against my shirt, and his breath is coming in shallow beats, I know he is finally asleep.

It’s been a trying day. I’m glad that it’s over. My hand reaches up and touches his. In his sleep, his fingers tighten around mine, and I can’t stop my smile. Even though we have our problems…and we’ve been fighting a lot more then usual lately… As soon as he’s asleep next to me, with his hand resting across the stretch of skin my twisted t-shirt leaves uncovered, none of that matters. For a few moments before I drift off to sleep, I remember that I love him…and that’s why I stay.