I set the tray down on the coffee table a little too quickly, making the porcelain cups wobble and clink, nearly spilling their contents, when I felt his large hand on the small of my back, the touch incredibly warm and tender through the thin layer of silk separating his skin from mine.
"May I?" he asked simply as I sat down next to him, close, so close that our legs touched.
His teasing smile and the boyish excitement lurking in his ocean blue irises made my curiosity flare irresistibly, and I found myself nodding.
Of course, I agreed. Like a wizard, he had worked his magic over me, I was spellbound, intoxicated by my feelings for him, from the first moment I saw him.
I let him put the black band over my eyes, and suddenly, I was blind.
As my sight was taken away from me, my other senses seemed to grow stronger immediately, and I could feel, hear, and smell things I had never properly registered before. The velvety softness of the band pushing gently against my eyelids. The faint smell of leather emanating from the couch we were sitting on, the softest whisper of the candles burning on the coffee table, sending their scented fumes swirling around us, like tendrils of fog...
"What is all this about?" I asked, raising my hand, moving it in the direction where I had seen his face before.
It was still there. My fingers landed on his jaw, and I let them explore his stubble. It felt sharper but smoother at the same time, so different now that I could not see it.
He took my hand in his and brought my fingers to his lips, kissing them, making my breath hitch.
He was the love of my life, an extravagant artist whom I met at high school years ago. A man whose mind never stopped overflowing with bizarre ideas, not leaving space for boredom in our relationship.
This, apparently, was one of them, I thought, giggling.
"Hush," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire, sounding too loud in my ears. "Drink first, before it gets cold."
He brought the cup of mulled wine to my mouth, making me start at the unexpected warmth of the smooth china as it touched my lips, a heartbeat before the wonderful mixture of scents-- cinnamon, orange skin and clover, and something else I could not name-- filled my nostrils.
I inhaled deeply and took a sip before I asked, "And what now?"
He got me intrigued, as usual, and I was burning with curiosity and anticipation.
"Happy birthday," he said, even as his lips crashed against mine and something, large, square, and smooth, according to my carefully exploring fingertips, landed in my lap.
A box.
"Here," he said, and I could hear the smile I loved so much tugging at the corners of his lips.
Taking my hand in his again, he navigated it to a small, round hole made through the top of the box.
"Is this... another one of your boxes?" I asked, gathering courage to slide my hand through the opening, referring to his latest artistic creations.
He chuckled.
"No, not exactly," he whispered in my ear the next moment, his warm breath landing on my earlobe making me shiver. "Go on, put your hand in," he insisted.
And I did.
Inside... it was warm. And... empty. No... not quite, there was something... tiny, soft, and hairy hiding in one of the corners...
"It... it was impossible for it to come to life, wasn't it?" I asked, my heart beating in my throat as I retracted my hand from a set of sharp... Teeth? Claws?
"Wait, is that a kitten?" I asked, pulling the band off as I teared my way through layer after layer of wrapping paper.
"You've been asking for one for so long!" he exclaimed, chuckling, as I gathered the small bundle of white, purring fluff from the bottom of the box.
It was perfect.
Just like him.
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************** This story was written for Imagine this... Writing Workshop, prompt n.3.
