FATE\Deus Decipit

Chapter 91: Memories Are Made of This

9:21am

Monica opened her eyes first with surprise, then with disappointment. The island was gone, and she knew in her heart that she would never be there again. The time for that place had passed, with all the joys and sorrows that it held. But before that sadness could truly penetrate her, another, simpler and greater joy blushed her face.

It was Chrysaor. Sleeping soundly next to her.

It would be impossible to describe the strength of the temptation then. The temptation to brush aside his rose-hewed hair. The temptation to caress his soft, masculine yet almost feminine cheeks, and even to place her own lips there, and then to pull him close and embrace him. To have the softness of his skin and the firmness of his muscles become indistinguishable from the covers and mattress underneath them and to together become a place of endless comfort.

-But she would resist that temptation, not because of any strength of will, but because she simply couldn't bring herself to disrupt that handsome tranquility. The movement of his chest, the peace of his closed eyes and lips: this place between life and death where only peace existed. No sorrow. No grief. No stress. No worries. Just the rhythmic rise and fall of two breasts almost kissing one another, and the silent melody of breathing in time.

This was not the first time she had woken up next to a man, but it was the first time she had been happy to. She remembered the fear of what would happen when that man would wake up. The fear of not being good enough, the fear that, if he should awake, the first thing he would do would be to leave her.

Now, as the morning light fed through the blinds with all the pearly gold of white wine, she felt no fear. There was no question of his character. There was no question that, even if he did leave, he would do so only with her in mind. Today, she let him sleep, not because she was afraid of what he would do when he awoke, but because he deserved the rest. Because, for all that he had done for her, this was the least she could do for him.

She carefully shuffled backwards toward the edge of the bed, never once looking away from him. Firstly because she was afraid of waking him, but also because she just couldn't bring herself to. He was hypnotic. He was beautiful, and, in a certain way, what made him beautiful was the fact that he was hers and hers alone.

She wondered to herself, now standing up on her weary, shaking legs, if this wasn't how a woman usually felt after her wedding night. Of course, she and Chrysaor weren't married, and neither had they done that, to her memory at least- no, she corrected herself, she would surely remember that if it had happened- but she also wondered whether there was any significance to that. Who was it that declared a couple wed? The government? The priest? Or was it they themselves, promising to one another, loving one another, committing to one another with words from the bottoms of their hearts, and then consummating that love by becoming one flesh, who made the marriage?

She became suddenly giddy, like a child whose tripwire was now perfectly set, imagining what she and he might do that night, or the night after that, so on and so forth into forever. It was a childish thought, it was a lustful thought; carnal and yet wholly innocent. The kind of thought that made one both joyful and guilty, both thoughtless and conniving, immature but in a way that only an adult could be. A thought, a dream, which left her biting her lip and embracing herself, looking away for the first time only to hide her radish-red blush from the sleeping man who was none-the-wiser to her teenage dreams.

When was the last time she had been so tantalized, so scandalized? Had she ever been? When was the last time she knew sex in desire, much less in love? Throughout her whole life, for as long as she had known it, it had only been a source of pain, of regret, of sadness and sorrow, and yet, despite all that, here she was, bathed in a morning glow; wondering if even lust could be a gift from God.