Bonne Nuit, Ma Cherie (Goodnight, My Dear)

A Short Story

Sleep always comes later than it supposed to be. Here I wait for something that my heart yearns for. The cold splash of air against my face as I stand outside of my balcony. The view of never ending sky against my eyes. Inviting. Intoxicating. I closed my lids, took a breath of the wind into my system. Then I felt a presence. In an instant I knew, I’m not alone, not anymore. “I’m here, love.” I heard a soft whisper against my ear. Sweet as a ripe fruit from a tree. The voice coming from behind. Strong and sure. He held my waist with gentle ease. I felt the poison of his touch rushing through my veins. I took a hold on the railings as he enclosed the distance between our bodies. I can feel his breath against my nape. The tension, tumbling down my spine. He took a breath of my hair.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Does it matter?”

No. It doesn’t. I thought. As long as I’m not alone. Nothing matters.

“I want you to come with me.” He said.

I turned to see his face. First I saw is his green eyes. Soft lids and kindness but what lies behind is untouchable mystery. I touched them with my finger. He felt real than ever before. Then I noticed his nose, his perfect nose. I moved my finger touch to it. Then his lips… I can’t see his lips. A rise of fright came to me. Then I finally see. He’s wearing a mask. A mask that covers the whole of his jaws and mouth. What happened? The thought never came out my mouth because he lifted his hands to tuck my loose hair into the back of my ear.

“Nothing else matters.” It seemed he read my mind.

“I want to know.”

“I want you to come with me.” He said dismissing my demand for an answer.

“Where to?” I asked.

“Does it matter?”

No. It doesn’t.

He held my hand, planted a gentle kiss on it and then he looked deeply into my eyes. For a moment I was lost in his gaze. I see him and nothing more. He took my hand and gently pressed it to his heart. I can’t feel anything. I can’t feel his heart. I’m confused. Then I heard a song. Among My Souvenirs by Connie Francis, almost at its end. I looked around to see people, soldiers in their uniforms and girls in colorful dresses, dancing sweetly through this song. Holding each other with tenderness.

“May I?” He asked gesturing his hand. He’s wearing the same uniform as them.

I took his lead. We danced until the song changed to Its Not for Me to Say by Johnny Mathis. I smiled at him.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“Somewhere in Tennessee.”

I closed my eyes to feel the music’s gentle flow through my ears.

“You love this song?”

“Yes, yes I do.” I said. Then I realized that he’s not asking a question.

I looked at him. Bewildered by his identity I wondered. I just met him yet I felt comfortable with him, like I knew him all my life, like he’s always there, like he’s part of me, always.

“Can you read my mind?” I suddenly asked.

“I know everything.” He answered. Then he kissed my forehead.