The moment I reached the end of the corridor, a fairly average body blocked my way. The familiar gruff voice laughed, producing an unnatural sound. But his smile was easy and natural as he said, "What's got you in a hurry?""There are busy people with busy lives," I said tartly to Abel, wanting to head straight to Isaac and fall into his arms. "Oh, you wouldn't know."
The laughter in his voice vanished, but the smile stayed. "I'm working with a modelling agency. I thought I would ask you if you were interested in some photoshoots."
"You don't mind this attitude?" I crossed my arms in front of my chest and his eyes fleetingly followed there, making me want to suck my breasts in, creating two hollow cavities on my chest.
"Attitude works in photoshoots," he said cheekily, finally stepping aside.
"Alright," I responded half-heartedly and began rushing. Isaac had called me over an hour ago at his place and I stalled visiting him because the last time I had been there was when I was twelve. After the entire fiasco of my mother gleefully eloping with Isaac's neighbour, Dave, I had to pettily cut off all ties with him and his family since Isaac's mother was my mother's best friend. Now, I didn't know how strange it would be to be back there.
However, sitting idly at home made me ponder over poor Sam and his father who was still admitted in the hospital and I had bit off all my fingernails, being perilously close to doing the same to my toenails.
Isaac informed me via texts that he was in their large lawn practising with his soccer ball so when I arrived at the wholesome, suburban neighbourhood (a widely contrasting effect on me having come straight from the dumps) I stealthily entered his lawn instead of ringing the doorbell. "Hey, Isaaaaaaaaac!"
"Hey, Anaaaaaaaa!" He reciprocated my playful tone, dropping the ball which he was tossing on his knee and as I inspected the surroundings, he said reassuringly, "Nobody's home."
"Ah, that's why you invited your girlfriend," I said with a naughty smile, stepping close to him. Before he could kiss me, I ducked and clumsily taking the ball in between my legs, kicked and ran with it. I could feel him right behind me, chasing me in a deliberately slow pace to humour me and he didn't even have to catch me. I perfectly executed the job for him when I stumbled on the ball and fell, the impact and humiliation causing me more to laugh than wince in pain.
His body shook with laughter as he slid on top of me, supporting himself by his elbows. "And I thought I was bad at soccer."
"You're the best at other things . . . " I trailed off, watching him absently lick his lips as his pale-grey eyes looked intently at me like dense clouds, unreadable of the emotions stirring in him. The mowed grass underneath me was delightfully tickling my neck and his lower body pressed against mine flamed a tingling desire in me. I wanted to touch him and him to touch me everywhere.
Isaac seemed to feel the same because he silently captured my lips in his, such absolute silence that I could hear the faint buzzing of a bee nearby and the shuffling and crying of the flock of blackbirds flying high up in the sky. The old swing in the corner creaked, wistfully reminding me of my childhood with him. He moved his tantalizing kisses to my neck, burying his face in my hair and his one hand snaking under my back like a comfy cushion. I stared languidly at the clear blue sky, the pleasant scent of the mud wafting around. The passionate heat radiating from him and the fresh coolness of the atmosphere mingled in harmony as I serenely lay there, revelling in the delicious sensations. It was as if a piece of heaven had broken from the sky above and descended on me, bringing down an angel with soft, curly hair and kindness that no earthly being could possibly possess.
"This is nice." I could hear the genuine smile in my voice along with hoarseness from desire, a sound so odd.
"More than nice . . . I love you," he breathed those last few words in my ear, his nose gently rubbing my cheek and for a second, I stilled. "What happened?"
There was a quick panic in his voice and before he could separate himself from me, I said hastily, "No, no, nothing." He wasn't convinced and he raised his body which made me involuntarily cling to him, not wanting to let go just yet. "We haven't said those particular words till now that's why . . . That's it . . . "
"Oh." He met my eyes dubiously, unsure of what to do.
I pulled his uncertain looking face close to me by the collar of his jersey. "I love you too, Isaac Conner."
Then he smiled, that wrinkly smile of his and before that faded, I urgently pressed my lips against those creases, wanting to feel the rise and fall of the skin there. His grin broadened, making me want to kiss him more, touch my tongue in the depth of his skin. Taking one fold of skin in between my lips, I bit it tenderly and he chuckled, unable to submit to my kisses anymore.
He laughingly wiped his cheek against the sleeve of his jersey and I said apologetically, "I couldn't help it. I wanted to do that . . . Since a long time . . . "
His ears perked up like an excited puppy's. "Long time? How long?" Then he rolled away from me, slyly glancing at me from the corner of his eyes.
"Since we were kids," I paused and added, "I didn't want to bite you then, just a little kiss." I turned sideways to gaze at him, his pointed nose up towards the sky. "When did you want to first kiss me?"
"When we became teenagers . . . When I lost you," he murmured, grasping my hand. "I dreamt of you for months after you were gone. Day and night, I couldn't take you out of my mind."
Something twisted in me like somebody was drilling a giant screw in my gut.
"I didn't know I meant this much to someone," I confessed quietly, seeing our hands intertwined together on the mud. Those same hands that a decade earlier was digging this same mud, innocently trying to find the centre of the world. I placed our joint hands on my beating heart, to prove that I was alive, this was real, we were real.
We lay there peacefully for some time until Isaac decided to kiss me again with more fervour than before and his mother chose to walk in on us at that very second.
YOU ARE READING
When Bluebirds Fly | ✔
RomanceFeatured by Teenfiction, Contemporary Lit and AmbassadorsIN Mariana Martin, an introverted, sarcastic and pessimist girl's diary gets stolen and instead of looking for it, she takes this as a golden opportunity to erase her dark past and leave behin...