The Couch

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
The spirit of a girl is trying to find true love in a beautiful stranger who enters her domain.

Submitted: June 26, 2009

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Submitted: June 26, 2009



I tried not to stumble as I tugged the leg of my paint-stained jeans off of my right leg. I nearly fell over by the time I finally got them off. Tossing them across the room and picking up my blue Soffe shorts, I shivered as a draft drifted through the empty house and met my bare skin. I tugged on the shorts and thin, gray top as fast as I could and opened the bedroom door into the drafty hallway.

I switched on my flashlight and walked into the living room. I carefully stepped over the spots on the floor where chunks of the carpet were missing, leaving gray patches of cold cement and tip-toed to the lone couch in the center of the room. I pulled off the extra pillows surrounding the couch and tossed them onto the floor. My heart pace began to quicken as I started to anticipate what was about to happen.

I took a few steps back and looked around at the bare white walls, the damp fireplace, and the filthy windows. The only other thing in the room besides the couch was a small, rickety coffee table with a few candles and a small box of matches lying on it's chipped and tattered surface. Clasping my hands together and heaving a sigh, I headed back down the hallway into the bedroom where the trunk of blankets I brought were stored. I opened the lid and it creaked, seeming ridiculously loud as everything around me was silent. I wondered if he was experiencing the same silence as I was. Did he feel how I felt? Was he ready or was this house taking it's toll on him like it had the others? I squeezed my eyes shut and moved my lips in a silent prayer.

I grabbed the blankets and walked back down the hall back into the living room. I smoothed the blankets onto the dusty couch and picked up one of the candles and the box of matches. The need for light in this dark room was great and my hands worked as quickly as they could to strike the matches on the box and light the candles.

Once they were all lit, I placed them in a circle in the center of the coffee table and then sat down on the endge of the couch, rubbing my arms to keep warm. I heard a door creak, my heart skipped a beat, and then there he was. I tugged my hair to one side and shyly looked down at my hands. His soft footsteps made their way across the room and within seconds he was next to me. I looked up at him; his light eyes were sparkling in the candle-light and his hair looked damp from the rain outside. He smiled at me and kicked off his shoes.

I stood up and took him by the hand, squeezing them tightly before letting go. He looked at the couch and at the circle of candles, the flickering flames burning into his memory like they already had in mine. He sat down on the couch and stretched out, positioning his body along the couch; his head on the arm rest at one end and his feet at the other. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to. Both of us knew each other's limits.

I climbed onto the couch next to him, elongating my body against him. I could feel his cool, minty breath on my forehead and I reached down to pull the covers over us. He draped his arm around me and pulled me closer to him until there was not a single space between us. I couldn't see his face because it was so dark but I knew that he was staring at me. His thumb rolled in a circular motion along the sore spot on my spine and I sighed at the strange mixture of pleasure and pain.

I reached my right hand up and lightly placed it on his face, tracing his features with my fingers. I felt around the smooth curves of his lips, the contours of his dimples as I felt his features change into a smile. I brought my left hand up and curled it around his neck, running it up the base of his skull and feeling the softness of his hair like velvet against my fingertips. His breathing picked up, matching mine, which was already coming in quick, silent gasps. He placed his hand over my heart and I felt embarrassed because I knew it was soaring like an eagle above the clouds; hasty and swift. He pressed even tighter against me and began taking slow, deep breaths, reticently encouraging me to relax. After a minute we were finally two people who had become one in the most intimate way without being, in fact, intimate.

The coolness of his breath drew closer; it was on my lips now. I closed my eyes. I had been waiting for this moment for all eternity. I would have only this night with him. This one, dark, damp, and cold night; and I would take it.

I wrapped my arms around his neck in an inpenetrable fit of passion and brought my lips to his. His artic breath turned feverish as he opened his lips to welcome me into his heart; forever.

© Copyright 2018 Benji Madison. All rights reserved.

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