Squinting into the sun, for a moment she remembered how temporary all of this was. This amazing day alone on the water would be over before they knew it.
Pulling a blanket over her shoulders, she leaned into his chest. If she closed her eyes and concentrated, maybe she could remember exactly how it felt to touch him so freely.
Breathing deeply, she wanted to remember how he smelled, salty and sweet.
She wove her fingers into his right hand as he pulled her tighter. She stared at his hand in hers, taking mental photos of his fingers, the scar near his knuckle, the vein climbing up into his sleeve.
He watched her reach for the blanket and carefully twirl it up and over her shoulders like a choreographed dance.
Reaching one hand out of the cape of warmth, she slid her long hair out, revealing glimpses of the fair skin of her neck. He imagined pressing his lips against that smooth skin, feeling her bones just beneath the surface, breathing in the scent of her hair.
She sat back, resting her shoulder against him, but not close enough. Wrapping both arms around her, he scooped her in closer. Her hand emerged from beneath the blanket and laced its tiny fingers into his with a gentle squeeze.
He closed his eyes, willing this moment to last. The salty air forced itself into his lungs as their boat cut through the water. He remembered her clear eyes looking into his as he smiled down at her.
“This isn’t enough time,” he thought, cursing reality.
He begged his memory not to fail him. He wanted to remember how she felt in his arms. He wanted to remember her chin, her hands, the way her eyes glinted in the sun like the waves.
For a moment, he thought of sailing away from everything. Just keep right on going. Run away and hide her from the world, tuck her away in a quiet corner of the world for only himself. He saw the two of them sitting alone in a tiny cabin, warming each other from gray winter weather with hot baths, mugs of hot coffee, and quilts for two.
But the world said no, and he knew it.
Looking ahead towards the sun, he didn’t want to speak. Just breathe. And try to remember everything.
Dusted off a little fiction work tonight.
à la prochaine