Revolutionary Hearts

Revolutionary Hearts: Part Six

June 9, 1780

 "I then felt a frighteningly strong hope for Father to shoot him on the spot..."

 ... Just days ago I wrote those words about Daniel, and yet it seems that a lifetime has passed since I was consumed by such dark desires... There are new desires that ravage me now. Bright, burning, scorching desires that have been teased and left wanting more.

On this very night I walked with Daniel through my one of my family's gardens. My father had reluctantly lent him a staff, but most of his weight had rested upon me. I can still feel his arm across my shoulders, my own hand gripping his waist. What's more, I can still feel his lips touching mine...

It was a brief kiss, soft and sweet. My first. He'd stopped to catch his breath, was leaning against a fence post with moonlight and shadow dancing across his face. He closed his eyes a moment, seeming deep in thought. "You don't hate me anymore," he said softly.

"No." I'm fairly certain I blushed, a reaction my body has come to favor in his presence.

"I'm glad," he whispered, more to himself than to me. His eyes opened and met mine. "Perhaps you even like me? Just a bit?"

I couldn't help but goad him. I grinned, "A bit," and held up my thumb and forefinger about an inch apart.

He didn't smile back as I'd expected. His expression grew almost somber; he seemed conflicted before resigning himself to speak. "Can I ask you something, then?"

He must have asked me a thousand questions in the past week. My favorite color, what books I like, who my friends are, what they're like... He must know more about me now than I know myelf . "Of course."

He took a deep breath. "What would you do if I kissed you right now?"

I blanched. I'm not sure how long I stood there, stammering for an answer. "Um..."  Any answer. "Kiss you back...?"

Part of him seemed disappointed with my answer, but before i could worry over that he was breathing a sigh of relief. Gripping the fence post more firmly with one hand, he brushed the other over my cheek. I somewhat remember raising up on my toes as he bent towards me, but the moment his lips touched mine everything else became hazy. Nothing else seemed to matter. Nothing else existed.

It was over in a matter of seconds, but still i pulled away gasping for air. I was suddenly the one who needed support, and his free arm pulled me hard against him. He laughed, the sound suddenly muffled as he pressed his lips to my hair. "My guilty pleasure," he murmured against me.

I pulled back to look into his fathomless, stone-like eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "I don't deserve you. I shouldn't want you. This is wrong." He pulled me back towards the path, slowly moving further into the garden. "Take your pick of explanations. I could probably even come up with more, if you like."

I was quiet for a minute; he let me have my thoughts. "Why?" I finally asked him.

"Why? Why, what?"

"If it's wrong, then why do it?"

He leaned away from me, his weight shifting to the staff he held. "If you don't want me to-"

"Don't be daft," I snapped, pulling him too hard against me. We stumbled, my legs giving beneath me and sending us both to the ground. I landed in the shadow of my mother's roses, and Daniel landed on top of me. His face twisted with the pang of his injuries, his breath hissing out between his teeth.

"I can't move just yet," he apologized hoarsely.

His body was pressing mine gently into the earth; it wouldn't have surprised me if he'd been as aware of the butterflies in my stomach as I was. "Take your time..." I managed.

He grinned, despite the pain he was in. He lifted himself enough to allow me to breathe, but no further. "To answer your question, I've never been good at resisting temptation. I do what I want." He looked into my eyes, judging my reaction as he cautiously trailed his fingers over my collarbone. "No matter how stupid it is."

I was on the verge of hyperventilating when he lightly, hesitantly kissed my throat. Blushing was the least of my problems as my whole body began to tremble.

"I risked my life to join the army" he murmured, his lips slowly moving over my neck as his hand cupped my waist and began moving slowly - so slowly - up my side. All the while he watched me, waiting for a hint of resistance; I gave none. "I risked my life to desert that army," he continued. His hand moved higher still, brushing my ribs. "I've had women I shouldn't have..." Higher. "I want to have you..." Was his hand ever going to stop!? More importantly, did I want it to...?

His fingers just grazed the underside of my breasts.

My breath grew even more rapid. My eyes were closed and slightly rolled back as I quivered beneath his every touch.

He sighed once more.

And everything stopped. Everything.

My eyes snapped open in time to see him rolling gingerly away from me. He shook his head. "I can't. I can't do that to you."

The rejection stung like nothing I'd ever felt before. I couldn't speak, but he read the question in my eyes. Why not?

"I can be stupid," he explained. "I can risk my own wellbeing. But not yours." He shook his head again. "Never yours." And with great difficulty, he climbed to his feet and limped back to the house without me.

How long did i lay there crying? An hour? A day? A year? it felt like an eternity.

I know he kept me from making a mistake. I know he did the right thing. But being right doesn't keep it from feeling so wrong...

~

Daniel asked me once of the writers I enjoy. In ironic perfection, one of them spoke these words that I now recall, as I can manage no further words of my own tonight.

"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more." 

                     - Jane Austen