Sarah was staring out of her window. From there she could see the enclosed garden. The palace walls had created a beautiful centerpiece. There was a fountain in the center pulling everything together. Walking paths cut through the space like a star. There were benches and a couple hammocks scattered about; picnic tables were in each corner of the garden. She saw marble statues of people she didn’t know. They weren’t overbearing in size. It was amazing just how much work had been put into such a small space.
“You didn’t have to lock the door.” Orion spoke. He was so close to her that she could feel his breath against her skin. “Sometimes you really frighten me.”
“If I scare you, then why are you here?” She said dryly.
“I feel like you are the only friend I have.”
“King James said the family was going out of town?”
“For a week.”
“Have you talked to Paul?”
“Yes, God that was hard.”
“How’s he doing?”
“He’s okay with it. He said it was about time we did something. Either fix it or let each other go.”
“Very mature for a twelve year old. Someone has done a fabulous job raising him.”
“See why I want both parents to be involved in his life?” He sighed deeply.
“Don’t do that.” She turned to face him. His big brown eyes derailed her train of thought. She recollected herself, “I can’t be alone with you.” She moved to go around him, walking away.
“This has been building in me since the first day we met.”
“You are not serious?” She turned at the door, questioned him. “I offended you the first day we met.”
“You’re voice does strange things to me. It’s like,” he was thinking about how to make his thoughts sound rational. “Your voice reminds me of something I have forgotten. Something I lost.” He paused for a moment, “It consumes me.” He groaned. “Your smell, oh that smell. It’s intoxicating. Why do you think I was so desperate to mask it?” He closed his eyes. “What is happening to me?” His eyes were still closed.
Sarah walked over to him, whispering in his ear. “When you figure that out, tell me?”
He whispered, “What would you do if I kissed you?”
“I hate you as it is.” She used the same whispering tone.
“At least you feel something.”
She leaned closer to him, “you bastard you made me cry. I haven’t cried since the Zabane’s died 10 years ago. How dare you inspire in me an emotion that I loathe.”
“I am sorry.” He knew she wasn’t touching him. However he could feel electricity surge through him. His breath caught in his lungs. This was a pleasant feeling. He didn’t want it to go away.
“Breathe.” She encouraged.
“Sarah.” His voice cracked.
“And for the record you may not give a damn wither you live or die. Unfortunately, I do.”
Poetry & More 