Stand By Me

Can You Feel The Love Tonight?

I had never met a man who was just the right amount of all desirable men in one package, never thought I’d have orgasms so long lasting, and never thought I could ever deserve a man more lovely than Derek. We could talk to each other hours on end and still feel that we’re missing a piece in the jigsaw, and at times, just sitting silently while I painted and he watched with his chin resting on his knuckles felt more than complete. Ours was a love story straight out of those adult romance books (no, not fairy tales, we’re both 27, jeezus!), some fights, lots of sex, intimacy, faith and food.

We gelled along so well. Two artists can always understand each other in and out. And Derek was a lamb. A golden boy sent by cupid himself. He’d always be the one to reconcile after the spat, never raised his voice (leave alone his hand), and always cooked great food for me that left me sated for hours. So when he said that he’d be shifting his architecture workspace in our basement so that he could be nearer to me and spend more time with me so that he could be encouraged to grow in his settling phase, I couldn’t hold it in me. I grabbed him by his collar and kissed him square in the face. Not one to be left out, he grabbed me from behind and pulled me in closer with one hand, and ran his other hand through my hair. God, I loved it when he did that! I took off his shirt and led him to the couch, and he took me like I was a queen. No, an Empress! We slept in each other’s arms like babies.

I woke up next day to the aroma of roast Irish coffee and the sight of Derek’s beautiful black eyes. I loved that about his eyes, they were impenetrable. So black, so full of luster, that on a good day, I could see my jade greens in them. His smile reached his eyes and put a glint on those dark orbs, a glint that he always said shone because of my presence in his life. I kept gawking at him as I sipped my Irish. Ah! What a heavenly combo, whiskey and coffee. Derek sure knows to pamper me, and how! I checked out Derek’s strong, round butt as he was emptying out a drawer, rummaging for something while blabbering to himself. I could eat him up, he was that mouth-watering! Shortly after, I heard a triumphant ‘Aha!’, as he turned around and began walking towards me. The glint in his eyes was back, and they captivated me. So pure, offering a full glance into his lovely soul.

I noticed another glint as he knelt down and came level to my face. You guessed it right, I never saw it coming. I asked him as to how did he manage all this, since his new work had just started, and he shut me up with a long kiss. He slid the beautiful platinum band on to my finger, and just like that Derek and I were engaged! We celebrated by cooking a luscious meal together, then eating it off each other’s bodies, and then drinking ourselves silly. So hot! He then retired to his makeshift basement workspace and left me to cleaning the house.

In the evening, I decided to make him take a break from all that lumberjack labour he had been at since over five hours. I went down to the basement, he had kept his door ajar, and I could hear him singing Sinatra’s ‘Witchcraft’ in his enchanting baritone. He kept the saw aside as he heard me calling his name, and stood up. As he turned around, I ran to him to hug him tight. Who wouldn’t want to do that to such a dreamboy? I practically bulldozed him over. As he rested one hand on the workbench to steady himself from falling over, a blood-curdling scream shattered our lovely embrace. Our eyes widened, I saw him raise his hand, trembling, only to see it dripping with his dark red blood. The saw had rested upright, and it had sliced his working hand through the flesh. Derek began to black out as I took out our truck and rushed him to the ER.

Fifty tense minutes later, Derek emerged with the doctor in his stead, a worried expression on both their faces. I had sat on the edge of the visitor’s seat and rocked back and forth continuously from the time we arrived at the ER. He placed his heavily bandaged hand on my shoulders and calmed me down. Why had they bandaged his hand as a fist? The doctor informed us that the saw had managed to cut through to the bone and had shattered the knuckle joints. They had no choice but to amputate all his fingers. I looked with shock from the doc to Derek. Derek had the usual smile on his face, but this time, it didn’t reach his eyes. The black orbs weren’t shining. I broke down, folding my hands, slumping to his feet. I lost track of how much I’d have apologized in that hospital lobby, or of how much time had passed. After an eternity, Derek sat down next to me and said, “Well, at least the ring hand is intact!” He had forgiven me, it was my fault that he has just lost his literal source of livelihood, his good hand, his working hand, and he had forgiven me like it was nothing. This man loved me so much that he was fine with his fiancé being the reason he lost his hand, possibly his life. How will I ever live with myself?