Capoter Sur Quelqu'un -- pt. 2/4
"C’est le matin?" José whispered sleepily, wincing agonizingly at the intrusion of daylight. He stretched his body flat across the bed, groaning and then purring before molding against me.
"We can go back to sleep, if you want," I mumbled between yawns, my eyes fixed on José’s beautiful, sleepy face.
"No, no, I want to get up. I want to go out. Have you seen this weather, Shelly?" José laughed. It was good to hear him laugh. It brightened the morning just a bit more and I couldn’t help but grin at his childlike excitement, “I haven’t been home since I left for Sweden. I would love to go to Old Montréal. Maybe? Please.”
I rolled my eyes thoughtlessly as he tried to hide his obvious disappointment at my reaction. I wasn’t ready to return him to the world that always wanted a piece of him. Before sunrise, he was mine. I'm painfully aware that as the night gives way to the pinks and oranges of dawn, the sun will rise and separate the colours from the sky. I can feel his hands slip from mine and we fade away into our separate lives until we’re once again brought together by the secrets of dark skies, silhouettes and the streaming moonlight. We have to let go but we find our way home, in parts that correspond, in the ways we are a perfect match.
He looked down and turned his head from me, rolling away. I gathered him back up and he surprisingly didn’t fight me.
"I’d love to keep you here all day, Théo," I murmured against the back of his neck, pressing light kisses on his tender, warm skin, as I locked him in my embrace.
I felt his back rise and fall as he sighed; shrugging his shoulders gently as he tensed, his voice shallow but not defeated, "Maybe not Old Montréal then. Somewhere else? Somewhere I have not been in... in I don’t know how long."
"I don’t want to GO anywhere. Chus heureux icitte. We can just stay in," I stammered back firmly, immediately regretting it and watching as José silently mumbled to himself and climbed out of bed, tossing the blankets in my direction. I turned my head back into the pillow as his shadow diminished as he walked further away from the room and he disappeared. The echo of the bathroom door slamming shut made the entire room vibrate and as I closed my eyes and gripped tighter at the blankets, my selfishness turned quickly to guilt. In the past few months, our lives have been filled with coming and going in rather excessive amounts. As soon as we start to get full, something comes and tips us over until we’ve spilled and spread apart. Just another mess to clean up, until the next time. I’d be damned if I’m the one who sends us in all directions.
Sighing in defeat, I propped myself up on my elbows and called out to José, "Théo... come back. I’m sorry."
José, still naked, unhurriedly wandered back into the bedroom, hanging his head and climbed into bed, curling around me as I enveloped him. He buried his head in my chest as I clung to him, "Désolé...," I whispered as I gently kissed to the top of his head, "I love you, let’s not fight."
He nodded in agreement and looked up at me with his dark brown eyes, tender and almost juvenile, silently pleading with me to kiss him. As my lips met his, everything washed away and the world around us became a dull distraction, "Je t’aime aussi," he mumbled, breaking from the kiss, his eyes still closed as he settled against me, hugging just a bit tighter than before.
"We can go back to sleep, if you want," I mumbled between yawns, my eyes fixed on José’s beautiful, sleepy face.
"No, no, I want to get up. I want to go out. Have you seen this weather, Shelly?" José laughed. It was good to hear him laugh. It brightened the morning just a bit more and I couldn’t help but grin at his childlike excitement, “I haven’t been home since I left for Sweden. I would love to go to Old Montréal. Maybe? Please.”
I rolled my eyes thoughtlessly as he tried to hide his obvious disappointment at my reaction. I wasn’t ready to return him to the world that always wanted a piece of him. Before sunrise, he was mine. I'm painfully aware that as the night gives way to the pinks and oranges of dawn, the sun will rise and separate the colours from the sky. I can feel his hands slip from mine and we fade away into our separate lives until we’re once again brought together by the secrets of dark skies, silhouettes and the streaming moonlight. We have to let go but we find our way home, in parts that correspond, in the ways we are a perfect match.
He looked down and turned his head from me, rolling away. I gathered him back up and he surprisingly didn’t fight me.
"I’d love to keep you here all day, Théo," I murmured against the back of his neck, pressing light kisses on his tender, warm skin, as I locked him in my embrace.
I felt his back rise and fall as he sighed; shrugging his shoulders gently as he tensed, his voice shallow but not defeated, "Maybe not Old Montréal then. Somewhere else? Somewhere I have not been in... in I don’t know how long."
"I don’t want to GO anywhere. Chus heureux icitte. We can just stay in," I stammered back firmly, immediately regretting it and watching as José silently mumbled to himself and climbed out of bed, tossing the blankets in my direction. I turned my head back into the pillow as his shadow diminished as he walked further away from the room and he disappeared. The echo of the bathroom door slamming shut made the entire room vibrate and as I closed my eyes and gripped tighter at the blankets, my selfishness turned quickly to guilt. In the past few months, our lives have been filled with coming and going in rather excessive amounts. As soon as we start to get full, something comes and tips us over until we’ve spilled and spread apart. Just another mess to clean up, until the next time. I’d be damned if I’m the one who sends us in all directions.
Sighing in defeat, I propped myself up on my elbows and called out to José, "Théo... come back. I’m sorry."
José, still naked, unhurriedly wandered back into the bedroom, hanging his head and climbed into bed, curling around me as I enveloped him. He buried his head in my chest as I clung to him, "Désolé...," I whispered as I gently kissed to the top of his head, "I love you, let’s not fight."
He nodded in agreement and looked up at me with his dark brown eyes, tender and almost juvenile, silently pleading with me to kiss him. As my lips met his, everything washed away and the world around us became a dull distraction, "Je t’aime aussi," he mumbled, breaking from the kiss, his eyes still closed as he settled against me, hugging just a bit tighter than before.