Audrey Hepburn's Pearls: Part I

Chapter 24.2: 1994, Ruiz

Chapter 24.2: 1994, Ruiz

 

"Hmm, new releases. I don't know. These are all kind of guy movies? I wanted to get something you'd enjoy because you're sick," Ambrose was saying. I stood there with him as he looked at the new movies in Blockbuster, my head down because I had started to feel a little dizzy. I didn't want to tell him because he was being so nice. He was holding my hand and swinging it a little bit, not at all ashamed that we were both dressed male. I couldn't find a care in my body about it because I was starting to feel so ill.

"What about a Disney or something," I said, trying to sound cheery. 

"Disney, huh? Which one?" he asked, starting to go over the the kids' section. I dragged along with him, trying to move as fast as he was but not having much success. 

"Slee- Sleeping Beauty?" I suggested, yawning in the middle of it.

"I don't know if I've ever seen that here," he said apologetically.

"Oh, I don't know then," I said tightly, then coughing to relieve the tickle in my throat. A couple of people looked at me wide eyed and quickly walked away. 

"They've got The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast. New things like that. Oh, they might have The Lion King, but that's not a Princess one. I know how you are with the Princess ones." He was smiling now, and I tried to smile with him.

We were going down the Classics aisle now, a very long aisle it seemed. Never ending. I could see the shelved off kids' section so far away, toys in there and a loud TV playing. It hurt my head. 

"Ruiz?" Ambrose asked. I blinked several times, trying to figure out what I was looking at. My brain softly formed the image of Ambrose's face, level with mine. How strange. Oh, he was slightly leaned down by his bent knees. 

"Hm?" I asked.

"You stopped moving with me," he said gently.

"Oh," was all I could say. 

"Are you okay? You look very pink. You have a fever?" he asked, putting the back of his hand over my forehead. Then his hand elegantly glided to the underside of the right of my jaw. "Aww, you're burning up, sweetie," he whispered, "you didn't say anything."

His saying it like that made me tear up a little bit because he was being so kind, so intimate. His mouth parted in how much he was worried about me. "Let's go home then, I have a surprise for you anyway. Miss Cha Cha isn't at my place, so you could sleep in her big bed with the nice comforter you like. That Hello Kitty thing."

He began to go towards the door while still holding my hand, but I didn't move a muscle. He looked back at me, his lips still parted. "What's wrong?" he asked just as gently as before, quietly. "Do I need to sling you over my shoulder like a fireman? Because I will. I don't care who sees."

"No, I want to rent a movie," I said barely, my head swimming. "I want to watch a movie with you Ambrose, on the couch."

He smiled to me warmly. "Okay. But I don't know what to choose," he said, looking around in a circle in the Classics section where we happened to be. 

"Hmmm..." I sighed, looking around, too, at the sea of video tapes. Then my eyes fell on the perfect thing. "They have Breakfast at Tiffany's, Ambrose," I whispered. 

"Really? Where?" he gasped, turning to where I was looking. His face became bright as a star and he plucked the video tape from the shelf. "Perfect," he chirped. A sneaky look went on his face. "Do you think they have any more? Audrey Hepburn, I mean."

I walked along with him, searching the shelves.

"Marilyn Monroe, three o' clock," I announced, pointing at the shelf. 

"Ooh, Some Like it Hot," Ambrose cooed, plucking it from the shelf, too. "Good choice."

"Yeah," I sighed, pleased. 

 

At Ambrose's apartment, I laid on the couch with him. We were cuddled together, and his familiar body warmed mine under my favorite Hello Kitty comforter. He had surprised me with strawberry milk from Charlie's store, telling me he had met Charlie in the process. Ambrose said he was my friend and Charlie looked surprised and also happy to have met him. I just smiled, knowing they were becoming friends, too.

On the TV was Breakfast at Tiffany's. 

"May I ask how limited?" Ambrose was quoting with the TV, as he had done all through the movie, making me laugh.

"Ten dollars," I quoted back confidently.

"That was the outside figure," Ambrose quoted again.

"Do you have anything for ten dollars?" I quoted Miss Audrey Hepburn.

"Well, frankly Madam, within that price range the variety of merchandise is rather limited. However, I think we do have, let me see, strictly as a novelty you understand, for the lady and gentleman who have everything: a sterling silver telephone dialer," Ambrose mimicked the Tiffany's associate in his very best British accent.

I started giggling and wiggling and he started laughing with me, hugging me close. 

"How are you feeling?" he asked me, kissing my forehead affectionately. 

"A little better because of the strawberry milk, I think," I sighed happily. 

"Oh good," he breathed. 

"I feel a little tired, though," I said, curling into him and pressing my face to his chest. It was so warm. I seemed to be searching for warm places, for comfort.

"Yeah?" he asked. I felt his arm go up and the TV's sounds stopped. He must have muted it or switched it off. "You want to go to bed?"

"No," I yawned. 

"I'll carry you to bed if you want, I don't mind," he said gently.

"No," I said again, pressing my face deeper on his chest, penetrating the thick fuzziness of his sweater, my forehead resting and finding his sternum. My face settled to the side, my ear against his chest. I heard his heart, steadily and in a comforting rhythm. I began to feel as if I were in a floaty, warm dream under this pink blanket with him.

His arms squeezed me tighter, staying there, holding me as close as possible. His arm began to rub my back, in gentle, slow strokes. I let out a long sigh, completely settled into him. 

I felt him kiss the top of my head and I closed my eyes. Slowly in an even tempo, his reverberating voice began to sing in a whisper, each word like a single angel feather from heaven:

"Moon River, wider than a mile~ 

I'm crossin' you in style, some day~

Oh dream maker, you heart breaker

Wherever you're goin', I'm goin' your way~"

He was singing Moon River to me from Breakfast at Tiffany's and I was melting. Just melting from dreamy happiness. 

And somewhere along the way I began to dream in fever induced love feelings.