Amorist

Wrapped in Forever

The lights are on in the house, illuminating the foyer in a yellow hue as we pull into the driveway, already halfway filled by my mom's 2012 ford. Damien turns off his bike, a black and gold 2021 Hayabusa he brought with him when his family moved here from the east coast. The once second generation Boston family with an old money house in New York moved here this past summer for new business opportunities, and decided the Chicago suburbs is the place to be.

Moving his hands from the handles of his bike, he takes his helmet off in one smooth motion. His hair, dark and wavy, falls down his neck and naturally shapes his face. He turns to me while standing up from the bike giving the perfect opportunity to gawk without getting caught.

He has high cheekbones and a sharp jaw, basically the perfect Hollister model appearance. Thick brown eyebrows rest naturally and perfectly shaped above his eyes, and are almost reached by his thick black eyelashes I envy with a passion. He side steps next to me, his black doc martin boots tap softly on the ground, once, and then twice as he reaches me, still sitting in position on his bike, pink and black helmet on and mask down.

He reaches out for my waist and firmly grips me with his gloved hands, turning me from my position so both of my legs now fall on one side of the bike slightly apart giving him the chance to step between them. He slowly reaches for his hands, pulling his gloves off and placing them down, carefully, on his seat to the right of me. He reaches for my helmet, carefully lifting it from my head, conscious of my cartilage piercings and hoop earrings.

"You got some helmet hair," he speaks softly with a satisfying rasp in his voice as he pats down the blonde curly flyaways that escaped from the pigtail braids I did this morning.

"Thank you," I say with a fitting quietness while I look up at him. Damien towers over me as 6'2. I didn't start dating him because he's tall, which a lot of people think. When his family first moved here his sister joined my friend group. We always hung out at their house, helping her move in and settle her room. That's when I met Damien. I guess the more time i spent around the more i fell in love with him, but he says he knew I was the one for him as soon as his sister brought me home.

He puts my helmet down over his gloves without breaking eye contact with me. Feeling sudden nervousness from his strong gaze I lower my head, studying the twisted laces on my white converse classics. He slowly wraps his now free hand around the back of my neck, tilting my head up and tenderly kissing the start of my hairline.

"Don't look away," he said softly, "I want you to be comfortable with me."

I nod, captivated by his eyes smiling down at me, shining with a green color that reminds me of the reflection of tall trees reflected in the water of the lake we spend our time at during the summer.

"Baby?"

"Yes?"

"I love you," he says, his charming smirk shifting into a toothy grin.

"I love you Damien."

I wrapped my arms around his torso, finding comfort in his warmth radiating through the thick bomber jacket he wears protecting against the cool fall air. His hand remains on my neck, as his fingers, calloused from years of guitar playing, run slightly up and down my neck. We stay in this position for a while, just us, alone at this moment.

"You're my forever," he whispers into the top of my hair and he bends to fully engulf me.

"Promise?"

"Promise."