Family Matters: Roc Royal Story

Reminiscence

Chresanto laid on his back and stared aimlessly at the beige colored ceiling. Cole had spent the night with her best-friend, Rayne, Ray’s daughter, house. As Chresanto laid there his mind couldn’t help as his mind went back to memories of him and Angela, specifically very after their first date…

It’s midnight. He’s driving 16 kilometers below the speed limit and sincerely hoping she doesn’t notice. She giggles softly, and he knows that she does. Sighing heavily, he lets one of his hands drift from the steering wheel to her lap, where her fingers wait almost impatiently to be intertwined with his. It’s pathetic how quickly chills trail their way up his spine. She absently rubs small circles into his skin and his stomach is invaded by butterflies. He’s got it really, really bad.

Unwillingly, he pulls up to her corner and puts his car into park. He sighs yet again, turning his body to face her, hands still intertwined.

"So, the first date. A success?"He silently pleads she says yes. He’d feel like a complete idiot if he’d sat there for 45 minutes basking in the memory of date she’d hated. She scoots closer to him and tangles her free hand in his chocolate brown hair.

"A huge success. Monumental. Stupedous. Glorious, and any other positive adjective you can think of. All I can think about is when we can do it again."

He’s almost embarassed of his large, goofy grin at her words until he notices a similar one spreading across her soft features. On impulse, his free hand finds itself resting gently on her cheek, coaxing her forward in an overt attempt to be as close to her as humanly possible. Finally, their foreheads rest on one anothers and he leans in, eliminating all the unnecessary space between them. Their lips collide and immediately, a slew of embarassing and totally uncharacteristic things begin to happen to him. Firstly, his knees go weak. Weak. Like at the slightest tough of her lips, his joints are replaced with strawberry flavored Jell-O. He’s glad he’s sitting because if he was actually allowed to walk her to her door, he would not have been able to keep himself standing. It was that bad. Secondly, all he sees are fireworks. Bright greens and pinks and even the brightness that carry an unnerving resemblance to Angela’s mesmerizing chocolate eyes.

Thirdly, he’s dizzy. His head is whirling and all he can think about is getting closer, and floating away with her. He is taken with her in every sense of the word, and it should scare him, but it doesn’t. Air becomes an issue and they pull away, reluctant. They rest on each others foreheads yet again and she traces his jawbone with her finger. He gives up trying to ignore the butterflies. With Angela’s, they’re permanent and its virtually useless to try and avoid them.

"I really did have an amazing time, Chres With you, it just feels…right."

At a loss for words (but really just lost in her eyes) he nods, and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. The time on his radio glares in bright red, and he is forced to read it. 12:17am. On a Monday night.

"Ange..as…reluctant I am to let you go…it’s getting late. I’d hate for your roommate to put out an missing person report."

She shakes her head in disagreement, and her lower lip juts out a little in a pseudo-pout. She’s adorable.

"I’m already out late. I’d rather spend as much time with you as possible."

He knows. He feels the same way. Unfortunately, he has a good impression to make and parents to impress and permission to recieve, so he’s forced to do something. His arms snake themselves around her waist and her arms do the same around his neck and just like that, they fit together. Like two pieces of a seemingly mismatched puzzle, their bodies mold into one another until its hard to tell where one starts and the other ends. It’s breathtaking.

He’s kissed other girls before, and he’s had feelings before, those are things he won’t lie about. However, none of those kisses or those girls or thoses phases could even compare to what he was experiencing right now. Their lips dance together in their own little world, hearts flutter and tongues caress. He feels at home and she’s glad they finally have something they can call their own. They pull away, gazing at each other for what feels like hours.

For months, its moments like these that have haunted him. Everytime she’s gazing at him like that and he’s feeling all those things he’d stopped telling himself he shouldn’t feel, he felt like he was lying to her. Everytime he said goodnight or they parted ways, he felt moved to tell her, and this very moment was no exception. He felt it, love, and it constantly sat idle on the tip of his tongue, waiting to tumble out at the least opportune moment. He wouldn’t allow it, even though it was stabbing at his heart every moment it went unsaid. He didn’t want to frighten her. Though he had realized he was in love with her awhile ago, they hadn’t been an “us" for that long and, well…he didn’t want to send her running. This was too precious and too meaningful to slip out of his fingers because was foolish and hasty. He’s highly aware of that fact, so he bites his lip and instead, allows himself to bury his face in her chocolate curls.

"You have to go, Angela," he whispers, trying his best not to sound harsh while still attempting to mask his undying need to constantly be next to her. She pouts even further.

"Hmph. Why?"

"If I don’t drive away right this second, I may never be able to,"he admits honestly.

She smiles and kisses him softly. He wants to pull her in even closer, but he also wants to preserve some sanity, so he remains still.

"Well, , I can’t say I have too much of an issue with that."

He laughs. “Angela, we have to say goodnight."

"I don’t want to. I don’t think I can."

Taking on a slightly different approach, he leans to her right, kissing her neck. He trails butterfly kisses all the way up from her neck to her jaw to her cheek, and back to her lips. He allows himself a quick peck before abruptly reaching across her body and pushing the door open.

"Chresanto!"

"It’s for your own good!"

"Saying goodbye to you is never for my own good."Angela protested.

Chresanto scoffed, at the last part of the memory. He really wished she had shared the same belief, than maybe they wouldn’t have divorce. Chresanto let the tears fall freely, sure it may not have been manly. But he hardly felt like a man. What kind of man, would let the women of his dream slip away, due to his own selfishness. No sane man would, only a foolish boy.

"Man, I gotta get my girl back!"