“I like the way you take my hand and just like that
everything is so much better.”
He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear and half
smiles.
It’s dark outside and only our silhouettes stand out against
the light of the moon. We stand
facing each other and although I only catch glimpses of his perfect face by way
he tilts his head, it is still comforting to know that he is there, staring
down at me.
I like the way the silence falls between us. Peaceful. I fumble in the night for his hands. The warmth pulsates from his skin to
mine and I know I’m smiling.
Behind me is the red brick wall of the old abandoned school and behind
him are the city lights, glistening. We shouldn’t be here, but its our place,
anywhere else just wouldn’t make sense for us. He gently pushes we against the wall and pins my arms at my
side, before leaning in close. I
close my eyes to feel his breath on my neck, taking it all in, for I know one
of these days I will never get to feel it again.
“Hayley,” He whispers so quietly its barely audible.
“Hmm…” I reply, keeping my eyes closed and leaning in as he
rests his forehead against mine.
He stays silent a moment and I know he is thinking. I liked that about him; he didn’t just
talk to hear a voice, he said what he meant and he meant what he said. Strong and silent and always right. He moved his arms, so they were wrapped
around my waist and I encircled my hands around his arms. The wind whistled softly around us,
swaying and gently bustling the tall evergreen trees. He brushed his lips across mine, then pulled back and let
out a breath. I rested my chin on
his shoulder and opened my eyes to see out across the ridge, where below the
city was flickering with gold lights.
“You have to go.”
I heard him say finally, detecting a slight waver in his kind voice.
“What?” I whisper back breathlessly, hoping what I was
hearing was only a dream; although we both knew deep down that these words
hadn’t been unexpected. He was
sick. And a month ago, they’d
given him four weeks to live. I
wrapped my arms around his torso, holding on tightly. He tucked my head against his chest and pressed his lips on
the top of my head. Tears were
sliding down my cheeks, but I didn’t bother to wipe them away. We were breathing heavily and
desperately, trying to hold onto the last few seconds we were given.
“Please,” He sighed out, exasperated, but he didn’t let go
and I realized that he needed me just as much as I grasped for him.
“Sam,” I began, pulling back just slightly, so I could look
him in the eyes, “this time just hold my hands and don’t let go, ok? I won’t go anywhere, I promise.”
Ever so slightly, he shook his head back and forth and I knew
his reasons for letting me go were so I didn’t have to see his pain. I was already feeling it though, as
much as he did, and it would only hurt more to walk away now. I held his head and let him sob into
the crook of my shoulder. Strong
and silent, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t cry. I admired that about him. He was just Sam, a beautiful man with dark hair that flopped
just a little onto his forehead, and piercing eyes that could see right through
me and a soft smile that understood me perfectly. His hands knew how to caress me, protect me, his lips knew
how to heal me and his voice, even without saying anything, knew exactly how to
sooth me. How would I survive
without him, the one who had saved me so many times? Strong and silent, that is what I would need to learn to be,
but Sam’s way of being strong and silent, the kind that was allowed to break
every once in awhile, because after all even the strong and silent need a
strong hand, a recognizable voice and someone to just take their hand so that
somehow, just like that, everything can become a little bit better.
