A Collection of Imagines

Harry

Maître

The color of the ceiling makes me feel at peace. A beige color, soft yet normal. It somehow brightens up the room. I feel him shift under me.

I hear the small droplets of water crash on top of the pavement outside. The screen glass door reveals the rushing of water, escaping to the bottom. I'm comfortable leaning against this plush foot board of her bed. The small black and white cat has become denizen at the foot, sleeping peacefully.

I move my vision to him. He is staring out the door, watching the rain fall. His face has an emotionless expression. I turn my head that's resting in his lap towards him. So beautiful in the dim lighting. So at peace. I love that he feels comfortable enough to just lay here with me. In silence. Just breathing softly, in and out.

Outside, the rain patters on the old playground that she grew up with. I try to picture her when she was young, running around, screaming joyfully. I imagine wild hair frantically trying to keep up with her. So at home, so at peace.

My eyes go to his bare left arm. His tattooed bicep displays my favorite artwork. I trace the heart on his sleeve. Smooth ink placed perfect to reflect a slightly comical and clever illustration. The anchor on his wrist makes me think of the night we spent together on the beach in the back of that pick up truck. The pad of my finger glides over the one that we both share. The wishbone. One of the inside of his bicep and one on my wrist. For luck.

She told me stories of how she would go out there when she was sad. When she was older and fighting with her parents, when she was too insecure to find anyone, not even herself. What would have happened to her if I was there for her in the beginning? She wouldn't have to grow to love herself, she would already be there. I am teaching her to love herself, I just wish I was there earlier.

I look up to his face again. His expression changed, and not into something good. I reach up and place my hand on the side of his cheek. He finally looks down on me and I grip the shaggy carpet with my other hand. His green eyes make me shiver.

Her touch interrupts my thoughts and I look down at her. She looks so beautiful, laying her head upon my lap. The light that emits from the glass door makes her skin look softer. Now, I forget about the somber playground.

He moves his head to where he kisses my palm. He lifts his left hand from my stomach to the hand that touches him so dearly. He moves my hand to see our shared tattoo on my wrist. He sighs, kissing my wrist. He blinks, lips still on my wrist. He looks at me again.

"Come here." I let go of her and she quickly rises. As she sits up, I pull up from under her legs and place her on my lap. She rests her head into the crook of my neck. I look out to the playground again, holding her closer to me. Her hand rests on my chest. She is so close to me that I can feel her breath on my neck.

I place my hand over his heart, trying to feel it beat. And once I do, I feel this warmth wash over me. Never did I think that this man's heartbeat be the highlight of my day. My nose lightly touches his neck. Breathing him in. His arms tighten around me, totally burying me in him. Controlling every aspect of my being. I whisper the word to him that describes every part of him at this moment, "Maître."

My hair stands on end as she says that word. I close my eyes, moving my head to where our foreheads touch, nose on either side of one other's, and lips centimeters apart. Before I open my eyes, I want to burn this picture into my memory. Both of us in her childhood room, on the floor, cat on the foot of the bed, leaning against the foot board, her in my lap, protecting her from the rain and the playground with the word 'Maître' escaping from lips that are not too far from each other. Gently, I open my eyes. They burn into hers, and hers burn into mine. Unity. My hand reaches up and rests right under her neck. Salvation. I let our lips touch and she closes her eyes. Peace.