The Castle of Gold [Bk 2]

ch.42 18 Gold

I pulled the covers up to my neck and licked my lips as I remembered the poem Harry had written in my mouth.

But I shifted slightly as I realized that his protective and demanding arms weren’t wound around my waist. His slow, even heart wasn’t beating against my back. And his dark curls didn’t tickle my neck.

I turned and saw that his side of the bed was perfectly made, as if last night and yesterday didn’t happen.

I was slightly disappointed, but I realized he had work and I couldn’t keep him to myself forever. Something transparent and white with gold letters caught my eye. I looked closer and saw that it was a letter, a poem. Eagerly, I took it and held it tightly in both my hands.

She speaks with no words,

But I can feel her thoughts in my veins,

And I cry ‘cause I’ve heard-

Her whispering my name,

And she knows my words,

She can taste them in my tears,

And I’d die if she learned-

Her golden wings- I fear,

My breath in her fingers,

My soul on her lips

I reach for a moment,

But I dare not loosen my grip.

-Harry

I read the words slowly, steadily, the way he might have read them aloud.

Then I read them over and over and memorized them just as I had memorized the first poem he had written.

But this poem was different. It was almost like he had already told me the poem. He had written it on my body, on my skin.

***

I was cleaning up the couple clothing items I had in Harry’s closet. Then I started organizing his closet. It wasn’t that messy, but some items could use a bit of folding and hanging.

One item in particular caught my eye.

It was a tux, midnight black, cut sharp and crisp. It had a brief whiff of cologne still around the collar and I wondered when Harry had worn it. I tilted my head to the side and studied the hem and lining: it looked different from anything I’d seen Danny wear or any of the boys for that matter. It looked older, like something my dad would have worn. It seemed vintage in a way, like it was wiser than other suits because it was older, but still timeless, just like Harry.

My finger traced down the buttons as I imagined helping Harry into it, then ripping it off his hard, lean chest.

I gasped momentarily when I felt warm hands slide down my sides and rest at my waist.

I turned my head slightly and saw Harry’s red lips close at my neck.

“Would you like me to model it for you?” he asked in a deep throaty whisper.

I nodded “yes.”

Harry laughed and he unzipped his jacket and took off his shirt.

I debated whether I want him to go shirtless or to see how smooth he would look with the tux on. I decided to see what he looked like in the tux, his new uniform after his leather jacket, Confederate soldier’s uniform and chef’s hat.