Jessypt is covering the Monday spot for Miss Beckie Louise for a spell. Please keep Miss Beckie in your thoughts.
Monday
Picture 2
Jessypt's Choice: Picture 2
Title:
The bus is quiet, everyone lost in their thoughts of where they’ve been, what they’ve seen, and what awaits at home. My stomach twists nervously as the anticipation of seeing you draws closer. I look out the window, the scenery passing in a blur of greens, yellows, and reds before shifting to grey buildings, old houses, and familiar streets.
It’s been months. Eleven long months since I’ve seen you. Felt your skin beneath my fingers. Buried my face in your neck and lost myself in the soft, clean scent of your hair. Wrapped my arms around your waist. Kissed you. God, I’ve missed kissing you.
“Five minutes,” the driver calls, and we all start shifting in our seats, gathering our green bags, and growing even more anxious.
We round the final corner, and there it is. The place where all this started, the place I left you behind with just my ring on your finger and the promise of forever.
I scan the crowd but don’t see you. I try to scoot closer to the window, but my view is being blocked by craning necks and shaved heads.
I just want to see you.
The bus comes to a creaking stop, and I stand up and press my way through. We’re all in the same boat; we’ve all been away from the people we love for too long, but the only thing I can think about is you. Seeing you.
I climb down the steps and sling by duffel over my shoulder and scan the crowd.
Where are you?
All around men are clinging to wives and children, and while I know it’s stupid to feel jealous, I do. I want you. I can’t find you. And it really sucks.
My eyes sweep across the scene in front of me again, and my heart begins to pound and ache and it’s like I can’t breathe. I want to see you so bad. I need you, baby.
Slowly, I start walking toward the exit, thinking maybe you’ll be outside or are just running late. I try not to let my disappointment show as guys pass me, arms wound around their loved ones, laughing and talking happily. I smile and wish them well. They deserve it. We all deserve it.
With a heavy heart and a twist in my stomach, I work my way through the crowd.
“Stephen! Stephen!”
I turn, and God help me, it’s like my breath gets stuck and my chest tightens while everything else in my body goes slack as I hear you calling my name and running toward me. You push and scramble, knocking your way through the crowd and waving your apology, but your eyes never leave mine.
You’re so beautiful. Even more than I remembered.
I drop my bag and start toward you, catching you as you throw yourself in my arms.
There are no words. Just lips, teeth, and hands kissing, nipping, and touching as you slide down so your feet are finally touching the ground.
You are so beautiful. Perfect. I feel like I can’t get enough of you. Your fingers cup my jaw, and my hands wrap around your neck. I stare into your soft brown eyes and feel like my chest is going to explode with happiness.
This is us. Me and you. You and me. Finally.
As your lips brush against mine, softly this time, I close my eyes and relish the completeness of this moment and thank God this war is over, because there’s no way I’ll ever be able to let you go. Not again. Not ever.
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