All Too Well - Erik Menendez

You've Got To Love Me For What I Am.

Princeton. NJ. 1988.

Eriks POV:

Before my eyes even open, my nostrils fill with a familiar scent. One that has become scored on my heart for the rest of eternity. Mangos fresh in season mixed with a patch of blooming daffodils.
Warm summer meadows and days of laughter.

When my eyes open, that testament is in front of me. Whisper.

Laying so effortlessly on her side, her exotic curls spread so beautifully across the white pillowcase. She's a painting that has been appraised to a price only ancient gods could deserve. So how on earth is she next to me. Me.

With the thoughts of last night accumulating in my head, I feel brighter than I've felt in so long.
My world is technicolored and refurbished after an agonisingly long time of surviving in black and white. She paints me with colour.

I can't ever go back to feeling her absence now. My determination to be the person she deserves is at an all time high.
Through tempest and storm, I must stand strong for her and I know to do that it leaves me with one goal. One thing that I have to do.

I must stop what I'm doing with dad.
I can't let him do those things anymore.
I can't wait until I'm off to college.
It has to begin now.

Her hand lays elegantly next to her face; it invites me to feel the pleasure of her sweet warmth. However, the fear of waking sleeping beauty in inevitable, as is the fear of the beginning of the day officially commencing.
All I wonder is how can a moment last forever? Because I would do anything to make time stay exactly in this moment.

Anything.

I gently reach to my loved one's fingers, brushing mine so softly against hers. Slight touching like this shouldn't wake my love. Her skin is soft, her fingertips enchanted by intoxicating enzymes that draw me so lovingly towards her.

Anything for you.

~

"Erik Galen Menendez!"

After hearing the announcement, I don't bother even looking up at the announce-er. Because I know it's that obnoxious bastard ready to sink his nose into any business that isn't his.

"Not the only time your names been called out loudly within the past twelve hours." My older continues, as my hands actively work the kitchen utensils.

Andy's snickering makes me look up. He's like a little brother to me – so hearing Lyle say that in front of him is beyond embarrassing.

"Must you do this every time?" I ask sarcastically, biting the workings of my inner cheek to stifle the evidence of my sheepish smile.

"Must you cook for her every time you get a bit of action? One flash of her tits transforms you into Julia Child."

I hang my head embarrassed as Andy falls apart from Lyles cheap humour – his unfunny humour.
The humour that cringes my whole body, especially in the presence of my innocent younger. Well – not so innocent anymore from what I presume.

"You know." I start, laying out a set of plates on the kitchen island. "This food was for all of us, but now you lost those privileges."

"Thank you, Erik." Andy's voice perks in, making me meet his eyes. His face is a reddish colour from his previous fit, but his eyes sweet and comforting as always.