A Night in November

Less than an hour ago, I had completed the last snap of a game on that cold turf field. The stadium kept alive in the dark of November by the beams of white blinding light, exposing everyone who occupied the stands. I lie in this bed of foreign feel, the pulsing of noise still scratching in my ears. Limbs weak to flex and my neck raw to the touch. A burning sensation sat itself happily in the back of my throat, repercussion from the screaming that had been done. Nothing but the pumping of blood echoed inside of my head, and I could feel the pain killers flowing through my body. I was comfortable and slowly fading, though this place of rest was not of my own.

I was staying that night at her house. A rare and memorable occasion, as neither of our parents were too fond of such an event. Part of the tradeoff was that I sleep in the room next to hers, and it was turning that time of night.

As I heard her small and careful footsteps moving on the carpet, I smiled and listened to the tinkering of bedtime routines after she reached the bathroom. A slow and softly opened door revealed my favorite image of all, looking upon her figure as she stood flawlessly in the doorframe of the bedroom. A smile escaped through the curtain of her dark brown hair, falling effortlessly over her features that I so loved to admire in the moonlight. She turned and closed the door, then made her way to my side of the bed, crawling onto my body while keeping eye contact the entire time. With her legs straddled and sitting comfortably, she brought her hands to the sides of my face, and kissed me like it was the first time our lips had ever touched. My bottom lip would be bitten, before putting her mouth gently to my ear to whisper how proud she was of me that night. The warm sweet voice tickled my skin as she gently proclaimed there was no place she’d rather be than right here, right now, in this moment. I told her I loved her, with the notion there was nothing sweeter or simpler to say in response to the many feelings racing through my sore and broken body. She moved to sit in the space beside me, and motioned to crawl over to her. I turned onto my stomach and inched my way into her lap. Wrapping my arms around her waist, my face pressed against her stomach as she sat holding my large frame all on her own. I could feel the tips of her hair moving across the my head as she leaned forward to pull my shirt up, exposing my back to her touch. She delicately ran her nails along my skin, as every breath of air and fragment of energy escaped my body in one brief second of release. I held onto her tight, as I was gradually losing my grip to the unmatched power of total pleasure, and the need for sleep that was making its presence suddenly clear. After much time had passed, she pulled back my shirt and cradled my head in her arms. Beginning to run her fingers over my scalp in the most loving and soothing of compassionate ways. She lowered her head and whispered in my ear, the three words I last heard before she quietly removed herself from the bed, retreating to her room as tactfully as she once entered. Before shutting the door, she said the words one more time, in a voice that still plays in my head to this very day. It drifted through the darkness and made its way to my heart, from the silhouette that stood just a long-haired shadow in the doorway. I love you, sung the whisper in the night, and the door would close for good.

I turned over to my side, and closed my eyes, but the light then shone once more. I heard the switch and the door yet again, as she came running back over to my side. She knelt down in front of me, Just one more, as she kissed me with those lips of velvet poetry. She scurried back to her room, and whispered again from the crack in the door, I love you. I spoke it back with a smile so real even the darkness can testify. I sunk into the sheets, and my heart stopped beating. I was ok with dying, now that I was truly happy.