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GREY KINGSTON
the calm before the storm, that's what my father used to say when the dark clouds would roll in and the wind would pick up as we watched from the kitchen window.
i loved when it stormed. i loved the games we'd play together—hide and seek in the dark when the wind would knock the power out, or the forts we'd make in the living room.
looking back on it now, i guess those years with my father were their very own calm before the storm. the calm before he turned into someone i was scared of.
the thing about storms though, is that they can come in unexpectedly. sometimes you don't know when to retreat back indoors until it's too late.
i shift onto my side, looking at rick who continues to sleep beside me, messy curls pushed out of his face. the sun is slipping through the curtains, landing on us and warming our skin.
i close my eyes with the covers pulled up to my chin, and moments from last night flood through my brain.
◌
how my nerves felt like they were on fire, like static was running through my veins and accumulating at my fingertips.
"you feel like a dream, you know that?" rick asked as he sat with his back resting against the pillows. his chest rose up and down as his heavy eyes locked with mine, "come here."
"you sure you'll make it another round?" i teased as he tugged me closer. "you're shaking."
"so are you."
our breath turned ragged as i sunk down—his fingers digging into the skin of my hips as i held onto his shoulders. i watched his face and how he leaned his head back against the headboard, "oh my god."
his hands tangled into my hair at the nape of my neck, pulling me in for a kiss at the same timehealtered the pace.
it was as if we were starved the way we held each other. as if we thought we'd die if we didn't feel every inch of each other.
we broke apart from the kiss, our noses brushing as soft gasps were drawn into our lungs for only us to hear.
"fuck." he muttered against my lips. "fuck, that's it."
