Making love to her was like sucking the sweet nectar from a blossoming sapling.
It was spring and they were new, and encompassed in their own axiom called love. When the climax descended they were back home again, but not for a second did they stop flying.

She turned on her side and closed her eyes so that her long, dark lashes kissed the top of her cheek bones. He couldn’t keeps his eyes off of her, couldn’t blink. He didn’t dare miss a millisecond of this dream he was living. He watched as her chest rose and fell and thought to himself, there was nothing more lovely that life could ever grace him.

Her cream white skin was freckled with beauty marks that he could lose himself counting. Her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink that emanated a glow from her face as a surge of pride rose in his chest. The honey brown mass of hair lie tangled above her head, contrasting her narrow shoulders and casting shadows across the jaw line of her face. He was simply frozen, he thought to himself. Frozen in time and this feeling he couldn’t even begin to explain. He didn’t dare pull her close and wake her, but he felt incapable of leaving her side. So there he lie, basking in the aura of her angel’s grace. Just as his eyes began to close her pouting lips parted and whispered his name before sighing and dozing back out of conscious. Pulling her closer he leaned in nuzzling his lips to her ear. “I love you.” He whispered. Never in his life had he ever said a thing so real and he longed for her to wake, but instead he held her oh so tenderly. But then she stirred and she was gazing at him longingly with those coffee brown eyes he could not refuse. Tracing his finger across the top of her waist, across her smooth skin, he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed her more than a man needs his pride, more than an actor needs money. She was scooped up into his arms and pressing her body close to his before either had time to wake from their daze. One last look in her eyes told him that they were safe, and her needs were the same as his own. They closed the space between them and bare skin touched bare skin; a warmth irreplaceable.

She strolled though the city in her black military boots, conquering the world with each step she took. Sixteen years old, and the way of her walk alerted everyone that she knew the city as if she were genuinely a part of it. “Excuse me.” a boy trailed behind her attempting to keep up with her pace. In the flurry of traffic his voice was barley audible, at least that’s what she told herself. “Hey wait up,” she could hear him struggling behind her, but she didn’t stop. A city girl could only take so many tourists before she went mad explaining directions. Without a backward glance she shouted, “get a cab.” Rolling her eyes she crammed her fists in her pockets and, slightly pittying the boy, she tossed a twenty over her shoulder kept moving in the stiffening cold.

Parry shot up as if to salute the moment she came barreling through the door. “Katherine.” She smiled entering the familiar office and greeted Tom Parinson with a swift, “g’mornin.” She stopped short taking in the expression deep sorrow, defining his age. “Parry are you okay? What’s going on?” She moved forward stroking his arm soothingly. “Katie it’s Joshua..” A shock hit like a bolt of lightning coursing up and down her spine. Her eyes must have been the size of saucers and her hands broke out into a cold sweat. A tear escaped her dear old friends lid before she mentally back traced every moment since then. Days before when they had shared a coffee at their favorite pub and argued about something she could hardly remember, that night when he cooked her dinner and they had made such sweet love, the feel of his hand completely overlapping her own; making her feel secure. In a matter of seconds she had lived through the unimaginable. In a cold voice that wasn’t her own she spoke, “Where the h*** is he?”