Midnight Cove

Chapter Thirteen: Too Deep

The next few days were the best days of my life. Cove never left my side as we perused the local beaches collecting seashells together. In the evenings I had him take me on long flights. Wrapped safely in his steel embrace he soared at a neck breaking pace under the apricot colored clouds of the California sunset, a mere firefly amidst the starless skies.

And of course, our time was filled with passion. I couldn't stop myself from wanting him. Cove had woken me up to the beauty that was life. Everything around me lit up, my world was finally open to the wonder and happiness all around me. It took death to make me finally feel alive. For the first time I had no plan for the future, for anything, and I felt more than content. I felt free.

My whole life I had been going through the motions and I had no solid dreams or desires of my own just this vague idea of what I was 'supposed to' do, but now with Cove by my side I had a drive to live and a love that could not be stifled. I had found myself. It was as though I had been sleeping through my entire life, waiting for that perfect someone. And now, my prince had come to give me the kiss that woke me from my slumbering existence. For me, it could only have been the thrilling kiss of Death.

The night before I had to go back to work I was falling into a slump of depression. It felt as though my perfect dream life was over and the monotony of my real life had once again come to claim me. Cinderella had to go back to work. Cove noticed my glumness and rebuked me for it.

"Nothing is going to change, Coral," he said.

"I know. You're right." I agreed in a feeble attempt to placate him. Inwardly I continued to pout. Fed up with my sulking, Cove pushed my legs off of his lap and got up and flicking off the t.v.

"What are you doing?" Panic flooded through me. I was worried I had taken my pity party too far and he would leave early, tired of my act.

Before I could worry too much more, I heard a familiar song being played on my record player. It was my Otis Redding. The warm memory of our first dance washed over me. Cove held his hand out to me as he had so many times. Pulling me up into his arms he slowly began to spin me around the room. In no time I was laughing again. I was dizzy as Cove dipped and danced me about, one spin flowing seamlessly into the next. He threw me back so far I thought I would do a flip. I exploded with joy, the laughter naturally spilling from my lips.

Cove, too, joined in before leaning down to place a soft kiss on my mouth. I returned the gesture happily, however when I opened my eyes I was floating in mid air. Cove's shirt hung from his body in tattered sheds; his wings opened with such force the fabric didn't stand a chance, destroyed in the process. I looked at him for a moment before we both returned to our fit of laughter.

I laughed so hard I thought my sides would cave in. Tears rolled from my eyes and yet the giggles would not stop. Cove swooped my legs out from underneath me, cradling me in his arms he began to spin me around the room continuing his ballroom dancing. The capability of flight was probably a big help in being light on one's feet, but Cove was fluid in motion regardless. The man could have given Fred Astaire a run for his money.

When the record ended I could feel the shimmery feeling that meant he was changing back to his normal human self. It was so delicate that I could only detect it because it had happened about a million times in the past week. I could easily see why I never noticed the first time he kissed me. Unless you were accustomed to it, you would never know it was coming. It felt similar to a gentle snowfall, soft and insubstantial, almost outside of your senses.

Cove was still cradling me in his arms as I rested my head against the remains of his shirt scantily draped across his muscular chest. I put my hand over his heart and listened, cherishing the warm steady rhythm. Without a word Cove carried me to the bedroom. We didn't make love, he lied me down on the bed and snuggled in next to me. Gently, he traced his fingers over my curves. The heavy feeling of his hands felt good on my skin and I lied there relishing his touch. Over and over his fingertips grazed my body parts, every curve, every crevasse, stroking my soft, smooth skin with his icy cold fingertips.