Kings of the Moonlight

Unchained Melody

Oh, my love, my darling, I've hungered for you touch, a long lonely time.

-

Derek wakes up to strawberry scented hair and a distinctively feminine body curved into his.

At first, when he blearily opens his eyes, vision cloudy with sleep, the only thing he can see is a mess of blonde hair in his face and for one second, he thinks it's all been a dream; that the previous few months have never happened and that he's back in the city, stuck in his old life.

Though before Derek gets further into that devastating train of thought, the reason he was stirred in wakefulness in the first place becomes clear to him. From the guest room across the corridor comes a small, high-pitched cry, the warbling tone of a restless baby.

Isabella, Derek thinks with a relieved sigh. Right.

Beneath Derek's arms, Erica begins to stir, pushing her body into Derek's as she instinctively turns towards her daughter's cries. Derek shushes her, seeing the pale blue rings of tiredness visible beneath her eyes and tells her to go back to sleep.

Erica grunts in gratitude, smacking the back of her hand to Derek's face, in what he thinks is sleepy thanks, before she rolls on to her stomach and promptly falls back asleep.

Derek huffs a sigh before he slinks out of bed and looking out of the window, he realises that it's not as early as he thought it was. The sun shines brightly as it stretches into noon and looking back the tangle of bed sheets behind him, Derek finds that Erica is already fully dressed, and he surmises that she must have let herself into his house earlier, put Isabella down, crawled into his bed and passed out.

Erica and Boyd carry themselves lately with the air of new parents, Derek finds, with the air of tiredness and unfathomable love and quiet desperation.

So he pads quietly across the hall, taking in the polished dark hardwood floors and the cream coloured walls, because it still makes him pause, even after three months of living in this new house, he keeps expecting to see the wide slab tiles and the neat white walls of his old apartment.

But this house is something he loves with all the ferocity of a new homeowner; it's set just outside the centre of town, his backyard edging the park, it's made up of grey sandstone and large windows set into the façade with dark wood accents, the door is painted a dark velveteen turquoise and the front yard is neat and small, bordered by a wrought iron fence and a curving driveway that leads to a set of huge, rounded iron gates with an intricate lock and pattern design.

But the backyard, the backyard is beautiful; an enormous open space, from the polished dark wood patio to the jade green grass that runs on, and on and on, until it reflects off of the whitewashed walls at the very far edge of the garden.

There's a swing-seat beneath the stone portico, a stack of blankets messily arranged in the wicker baskets and a sapling apple tree towards the left; it's Derek's favourite part of the entire house. It's somewhere big enough for barbeques, and paddling pools and spaces for Isaac, Cora and Wolf to run around. Derek loves it, loves opening the French windows of the living room in the mornings, drinking coffee and feeling the early day warmth begin to saturate the earth.

That very same warmth, the golden yellow rays of promising summer, now filters in through the upstairs window of the guest room, creating soft sunbeam patterns on the floor.

The crib is on the left: a light cedar wood cot inscribed with gold-leaf on the side and fluffs of white cotton blankets stuffed through the gaps as Is kicks out while she cries.

If anything, Isabella's cries intensify as soon as Derek's head pops over the crib; her large, wet eyes scrunching up as she pistons her chubby fists in Derek's general direction.