Resolutions | Carol

Separateness

I woke that evening, sleeping beside her. By now we were bound by the duvet and bedsheets, but I could see her silhouette rise and fall. There was a dim light from the widow, the curtains weren't closed but the layer of mesh lace was drawn. The moon was bright, and it made the shadows of her face deeper, the shape of her cheekbones bolder. I looked down her neck to her collar bones, noticing that she still wore her necklace and nothing else. As if that were all that mattered. Her hand fell in line with her face and I kissed it gently, her fingers were cold as they often were. She liked to press them against me for warmth. I slipped out from the bed, trying my upmost to not disturb her. The floorboards were cold on my feet, I wanted to cover myself, so I grabbed Carol's dressing gown. I liked the way it fitted me or actually, how it did not fit me. She had always been taller than me, so it was of course too long. I looked like a child playing dress-up. But it was more than that, it was like wearing her embrace. It smells of her, it smells of her after she had showered. Damp and clean, natural, untainted by the perfume Harge once bought her. Most of all it reminded me of our first night, the first night. How she held me, how she touched me, how slowly she had undone her dressing gown. She hadn't noticed but at that moment she was trembling out of fear, perhaps because she was afraid of rejection or more likely for me to walk out and never come back. But how could I refuse her, or even contemplate it? I may not know much about myself, but I know that I could never leave her. It hurt the first time. I stroked the sleeve of the gown, letting my fingers examine the material. I clicked the door of the bedroom open and slipped to the other side of it silently. I treaded lightly to the dark room and turned on the red light, if I had turned the main light it would have been too bright, I picked up my camera from the side and left the room. I slid back into the bedroom, camera in hand and sat beside Carol. I took my right hand and placed it just below her collar bones, so that her necklace was below my thumb. She must have been awake a little because she brought her left hand up to mine and intertwined her fingers. I tried to angle my camera and take a photo with my left hand, because this was perfect. Neither of our faces were in the photograph, it was a reminder that to the world our relationship is non-existent, that people would never really know us. We were faceless to the world. But there was still contact between us, my hand on her bare chest and collar bones, her hand linked with mine. My ring was still visible and so was her necklace. It was a mockery to the world's ignorance. We existed, together, as one and nobody knew about us. We were bound, not by safety, comfort or expectations but by love and risk. Because our existence was dangerous to them. To us, even. But surely it is worth it for even momentary happiness, over longstanding misery. The shutter of my camera clicked and there we were, frozen. Separated from the world, immortal in print. This was us. The light tripped and briefly bleached the room, Carol's hand tightened around mine. I waited, wound back the film, making intermittent clicks. Once Carol's grip had released a little, I took my hand from hers. I turned from the bed and went back to the dark room and began to process the photo. As it developed it reminded me of the original. Carol, her head tilted to one side, engraved in slumber. That picture I had memorised. This one would soon join it. The door behind me clicked open, I turned and Carol stood there wearing only the red lighting.

"Someone took my dressing gown." She smiled at me. "Darling what are you doing?" She walked to where I was standing on the opposing side of the room.

"I had to take a photo, sorry." Carol put her hands on the knot which held the gown together. She began to untie it, slowly, teasingly.

"You should go back to work tomorrow." I was taken aback by it slightly and wondered if she had tired of me already. "You have called in sick enough. We don't want your position to be compromised." She opened the gown up to see me naked.

"Forgive me, but I think I am already in a compromising position." Carol chuckled. "What if you need me?" I asked sounding young and helpless suddenly.