TIANA

Forgiveness

Forgiveness

I found myself sinking away too often ask myself if as of late I had done that. One thing I appreciated about Monica was her ability to find a piece of her old self, despite what happened. The more time I spent with her, the more I saw the strength grow within her and I felt compelled to be around her.

And I felt compelled to know if forgiving the man who took my brother would lead me to stop blocking the good that was meant for me, even if it came in the shape and form of Luis.

Whose presence seemed to prohibit me from having that dream. It didn't go unnoticed to me that the only time I managed to get an adequate amount of sleep was in his arms.

The stubborn part of me would have repudiated such a claim, but ever since Monica's observation I had to come to terms with the fact I had grown somewhat fond of him. That I was growing more accustomed to hearing his baritone. Felt myself paying closer attention to the curve of his smile nearly tripping into the blinding light behind it.

And as ashamed as I was to admit it, I often found myself sitting at my desk at work, caught up in a daydream tracing circles on my arms pretending that it was his touch, his fingers grazing my skin. The flutters in my belly would increase anytime he called, I ignored some of them. So given the fact I had been kind of avoiding him, caffeine had become my aid in staying awake.

But avoiding him wouldn't stop the flutters.

So imagine how I felt when I found him sitting on the steps just outside my door when I returned from work. It grew increasingly difficult to swallow and I found my legs growing shaky when he smiled at me.

Get it together.

"You here to terrorize me again?"

He stood up, height towering over me demanding all my attention to not stray from him," Come on!" he whined sounding more like a child making me chuckle," I waited the whole week. Don't I get points for being respectful of your schedule?"

"Maybe," I replied feigning disinterest to irk him.

"So stubborn," he shook his head biting his lip," I'll ignore that little jab."

"You giving up?" I asked in disbelief to see his mind turning behind the smoky grey screen.

"Nah. . ." he grinned widely moving to stand a lot closer to me, causing any resistance I had managed to harbour against him to tremor when he said," giving up is the last thing I'd do with you."

***

The music played in the background despite the pitter-patter of the rain drumming on the car as we sat on either side. I was doing my best to keep my eyes trained on the wet road ahead of us. Despite the fact I'd mostly be laid out on my couch, I chose to take him up on his offer to leave the confinement of my space.

And this time I hadn't put up much of a fight either.

"Where are you taking me this time?" I shifted taking the chance against my better judgement to look at him and grow anxious again under the pressures of his glances. He kept his eyes focused on the road, but the way his lips lifted revealed a dimple on his cheek that I never noticed after all this time.

Truth be told, there were a lot of things that as of late I had begun to take more notice in concerning his features. Like the fact he had a small, faint scar just on the side of his neck that my fingers had discovered the other night or the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

"Telling you spoils the fun in all this."

"You sound exactly like Frank," I chuckled only to gasp when I realized the slip up.

Please tell me he somehow missed that.

Unfortunately the chuckle he let out was only proof he had heard," I feel flattered that you're reading my book."

"Don't flatter yourself, watching TV grows tedious," was my excuse when I knew I actually enjoyed reading his work. At first I had been looking for an alternative now that I couldn't find the book and instead of succumbing to despair I begrudgingly decided to just take a look at the manuscript he had given me. Needless to say I was impressed with the effortless flow at which the plot moved and was drawn into the very depths of the relationship between Frank and the other protagonist, Kelly.

"Denial, denial," he chanted quietly," and I admit. . . I based a lot of my personality on him," despite the lack of light in the car I could see a gleam in his eyes.

"Hmm. . . Interesting. So were all those sex scenes between him and Kelly based off of you and some lover of yours?" Although I was smiling there was an annoying, gnawing feeling. The idea that he was writing off of experiences he had with other women irritated me. And considering he wasn't a bad looking man, I knew he must have numerous women in his life.

But I didn't care.

Honestly.

"Uh. . ." I noticed the way he seemed to grow stiff in his seat whilst his hands tightened around the steering wheel," it's-it's j-just based on my imagination," he stammered awkwardly and I would be a fool not to be suspicious.

However, instead of pushing the information out of him I chose to place my attention on the road.

The silence sunk in whilst I listened humming to the song on the radio, but the minute a particular song began playing, I bit my lip hard at the uncomfortable feeling.

I cleared my throat as if that would make the flood of memories entering my mind subside and Luis seemed drawn into the song as he began singing along. I reached out and turned off the radio only to have him frown at me.

"I was listening to that, you know?" he muttered reaching out to turn the radio on. However, I quickly pushed his hand away.

"Can we just listen to something else," I quickly replied feeling my panic rise at the way he peered in my direction and eyed me quietly. The last thing I wanted was for him to look at me with worry. But that was the exact emotion he gave me.

"What's the big deal, it's just a song."

Not to me.

When I leaned against the car door dying to get out at the fact he was waiting for a response. A response I wasn't sure if I wanted to give. I hugged myself staring at my lap when he called my name in concern.

And when he remained quiet, I sent a silent 'thank you' to the universe that he had taken the hint and dropped the conversation. When I looked up I noticed the car was coming to a halt at a secluded area that had me alert that something terrible was about to happen.

"Calm down," he raised his hands tentatively when he saw the fear in my eyes," I just wanted to make sure you were fine."

"Luis, come on. . . Let's just drop this!" I groaned throwing my head against the head rest.

"No," his face came out sternly and given the way his eyes moved over me. He watched me carefully, taking note of my body language. I knew he was unconvinced by the words coming out of my mouth when my body told a different story.

"Please . . . just," he sighed," just talk to me. Why did you practically clam up when you heard that song?"

Choosing to look at the trees just outside my window, I kept my mouth sealed refusing to say anything out of the discomfort and sadness I felt.

Wishing to somehow escape this space where all my vulnerabilities were on display.

The feel of warm fingers under my chin made me anxious. When he gently turned my head to towards him, his eyes conveyed so many things. Instead of judgement or pity there seemed to be understanding behind them.

Even when he slowly said," We don't have to talk about it," I felt a wet trail move down my cheek at the sincerity. More tears drew a line down my cheeks providing more evidence at my frustration; I thought I was making progress in moving on. After taking in Monica's words to forgive, I felt helpless.

Helpless that I would forever be held a prisoner by that song.

A whimper slipped past my trembling lips and I wanted to hide away. But the feel of his arms around me prohibited me from wishing I had within my grasp a cloak of invisibility I could use to vanish. And soon my face was pressed against the soft white fabric of his shirt as his hand rubbed a soothing circle on my back. Despite the taste of the salty tears on my lips, my nose had the pleasure to greedily take in the spicy scent.

The only other sound in the car was my occasional hiccups and whimpers. Whilst his hold had yet to cease even when I found myself calming down after taking a few deeper breaths I couldnt help but think to myself that I wouldn't mind being stuck in a place and time like this.

And soon enough I heard him singing lightly to himself and I felt myself transformed to the time we laid on my couch out of the common problems we faced. Where we laid in a state of ease without feeling conscious of our short comings all because we chose to not talk about it- knowing at some point . . . in our own time we would.

I knew he had a lot to tell me.

And I found myself yearning to tell him things about me as well.

But for the mean time all the words we were to say could wait. I found myself listening to his deep voice that vibrated into my body such that I grew attentive to each breath he took.

And I found myself humming along to the words of Fantasy.

Our minds will explore together, old worlds, we conquer, forever

We then, will expand love together, as one

I lifted my head coming face to face with his eyes wondering in the frames of time how exactly we landed here. How I was able to breathe the same air as him, not feeling any ounce of disgust but warmth. His eyes landed on my lips only to return them to my eyes. He swallowed hard and I followed the movement.

"But through the bumps, I'll hear your song. . ." he whispered lifting his hand attentively to trace my cheek in thought," and help your heart . . . in moving on."

His lips landed gently on mine moving slowly and it was a miracle that my heart managed to remain rooted in my chest past the fast pace at which it beat. If I hadn't already been sitting I'm sure my knees would have buckled at the impact of his kiss as his arms tightened around me whilst he bit my lip. Evoking a moan out of me only to dip his tongue into the very existence of me. He moved it all around dulling all other senses only to heighten his touch and taste.

And despite the limited space, the raw need to feel more and taste more shone the brightest in the pitch black. I'm not sure who made the first move or how my body managed to be shifted from the front to the back.

But that's the thing about passion . . .

Not only does it sneak up on you, it can consume you. And in that moment it overwhelmed us both to turn the back seat into our own land of poetry.