a saturday night 11:48pm
I think it may have been that morning. When I heard him say it for the first time. Between clatters of pans and the sizzling sound of just poured pancakes. He had been facing the window leading to the outside world, back to me. Something dangerous yet soft enough for us to handle. As long as our hands stay intertwined.
Palms resting against pure marble, your weight was heavy on them. Enough for your shoulders to bulge and head hang a bit lower. It wasn't something shameful to stare at. In all honesty, it was hard not to stare. But it was harder not to imagine you in my next fifteen years. Maybe married or something like that.
The light hit him just right, just over his head and the skin exposed to the air. Arms and torso and neck on full display. Fresh out of sleep and offering to help just a bit. So he took to cleaning the pieces I've used.
Beneath a gentle spray of tap water and scrapes of a spatula.
"I love you."
It wasn't meant to be heard. Only to your own ears. But I, like most times had been secretly adoring you in silent ways. By just keeping my eyes onto you and only you. Accidentally, catching every second of those sweet words falling from you.
It was obvious with the way his mouth parted once. Finger triggering the loud spray onto the soaped dishes. Tongue pressed against his top teeth along with his bottom lip that finally puckered up.
Still even after it, his eyes stayed downcast.
It may have just been my imagination but I think the whole world may have saturated. And in the midst of the moment, I had welled up with something odd. As if I had just taken something strong.
Pupils blown out in large pools and oxygen caught roughly. I flipped the pancake over, facing forward.
We continued to listen to the singing of birds and the silent conversation felt drifting over our heads. You looked back at me, your microwave was shiny enough to tell me that.
It was a quick five second glance. Maybe it was you confirming your feelings. Because thirteen seconds later he had existed two inches behind me.
With sock-less feet and warm jewelry your hug told me your answer. And the kiss placed onto the apple of my cheek repeated it one hundred times more.
Onto the arm encircling my waist I had traced the natural marks of your skin with the pads of my finger.
In slow cursives.
Quietly engraving it into his nervous system.
"I love you more."
»
