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I can’t remember how I got here, what brought me to you, or how the events unfold. They say its temporary…my loss of memory…do to the trauma. I have bits and pieces in my mind, like faded photographs of smiling faces, gentle words that caressed me, a memory of soft touches that once graced me.
They tell me they found me broken and battered left for none in a dark alley, it was one of my own that found me and brought me to you. Or so they tell me, I can’t call to the memories of them. They tell me I am lucky , that I wasn’t alone when they found me, but the evil that I sought was not far from me…somewhere buried deep inside I believe them, my mind tells me it is so.
I feel I know you, knew you. I watch you now, the soft and gentle smile that rests on your poetic mouth, I sense that I should know this mouth…and the mysteries that it holds, I see your hands so strong yet kind, as you work around this majestic bit of paradise that you’ve brought me too, I sense that I know this touch, I have felt these hands over my own body, so much so that I can’t deny the tingling heat that stirs all the way through me, but to what degree I knew this touch, is masked.
I watch as you tend and care for me , I see you watching me with troubled eyes as I wander along the white sandy beaches before us, I see you watching me when you think I am asleep, I feel your eyes touching me as you hold your hand back…a bit hesitant to reach out to me.
It’s you that comes running to my side, when my dreams are haunted by my past , waking screaming and weeping in the dark, its your voice that sooths me, calms my soul. Its your hands I feel on my brow, your lips on my cheek. And somewhere I know we have been here before…you have cared for me like now.
I feel no fear here with you.
A great deal of my days are spent resting, feasting from the island’s ripe luscious fruits, watching the ships passing in the distance, reading the books you’ve left out for me on travel, art, long forgotten history, wading in the warm tide pools, watching you behind dark glasses as I do now, blushing, you know I am watching you, the smile on your face gives you away, I look down, feeling a bit silly and not knowing why.
Fingering the delicate material of my dress, wondering where these clothes came from that hang in my closet on the island, having a faint idea they were bought for me once we arrived here…and that they are not my typical style or choice, but still enjoying the feel of the soft fabric against my skin, the dress light and thin, sculpted to my body, soft frills, gentle ties.
I watched as the fiery ball of the sun dipped silently into the ocean, a collection of colors painted the evening sky.
Growing a bit tired, I relax for moment, swinging in the gentle breeze within my hammock, watching you behind my dark sunglasses, my hand trailing lazily down my chest, fingers toying down the dainty chain that hangs there until I come to the small stone floating there. A moonstone, its shape reminding me of a tiny raindrop, I peer into it, its colors, a mixture and remembrance of both the sky and the sweeping sea. I don’t know where I came by it, I just remember it there and have yet to remove it.
I retire to my room, which in its beauty could barely be called a room any where else, large columns support short walls, heavy gauzy curtains billow in the breeze, a bed sits in the center of the room, a fine netting surrounding it. Slipping a white silky gown over my head I curl up in the middle of the bed, sleep engulfing me instantly, dreams swimming to me, they play through a long scope…that I cant quite focus on…..but they are there just the same…I see a figure dancing with another, she’s wearing a long dress, he’s in a tux…I see people laughing around a large table, their faces appeal to me , I find comfort in them, I feel I know them…they are my own kind.
Visions swirl past…the scope getting farther away, its harder to see them, and then they draw near, its dark, my vision is wobbly I can feel my heart beating erratic and patchy … my blood pumping in my head…the sounds are overwhelming, there’s terrible smell near, the sound of scraping metal to my left, oh god please let me wake up!
A sudden pain crashed down from behind me. Driven up from the depths of my dreams, I bolt up in bed, the feather mattress rocking beneath my weight. My white silk gown sticks to me, covered in sweat.
Rising out of bed tuzla escort I walk to the billowing curtains that separates me from the night air. Outside the air thick and warm, a rising storm, rain floating down on a whisper of a kiss to greet me. My hands rising above my head in a calling to the winds, tendrils of hair whipping around me, my eyes search the moon cloaked in shameless shades of blue and silver swimming among the clouds.
I don’t see you sitting in the dark under the umbrella, sipping from a glass of cognac, but you see me. Your eyes bright, piercing through the dark, gliding over me, slowly traveling over the white silk gown, noting the way the rain has painted the translucent material to my skin, your body trembling to touch mine, melting under the heat pouring from me.
I don’t see you rise from your chair, but I feel you near, standing before me under the falling light rain. Just staring at me for what felt like one of the longest moments I could remember. I smile at you, my eyes traveling over your bare chest, smooth, tan. I watch as you move agonizingly slow, your hand reaching out to me, gingerly you replace the thin strap that slipped from my shoulder, fingers rolling over damp hot skin, smoothing the droplets of rain, a quiet need stirs between us.
An ache rattles through me, striking my core, one that no trauma could erase.
“It’s late La Fay,” I hear you whisper…”you should go back to bed, you still need your rest.”
I can’t see your face as you turn from me in the dark, I watched as your pause in your steps, still standing in the rain, perhaps struggling with your own demons. I sigh quietly, watching your back, my brow furrowed in confusion, you seem almost upset, and then I heard you say again, “Bed, La Fay.”
I left you there, walking back through the curtains into the shelter of my room, stripping off the wet gown, I left it in a puddle of silk beside the bed, climbing under the light blankets pulling them tightly up around my neck, a gentle breeze blew in from outside, its touch was comforting to me as I drift back to sleep.
Visions flash before my eyes again in my REM state, screaming by like ghosts in a subway window. I see a familiar face beside me in an unmarked vehicle. It is my car my unmarked car. We are at a crawl driving past a bar. I see the sign above the door: Syd’s. The fog in my dream begins to clear. I see the man in the car beside me craning his neck as we pass with a look of longing in his dark eyes. A call from dispatch comes over the radio, two sets of ears perk up at the address called out over the radio. He looks over at me, as he reaches for the radio to respond, “That’s Mother’s,” I hear him say before responding to the call. His voice, the familiar voice of my partner. It’s Logan. I remember the call.
Patrick O’Malley, one of the owners of Mother’s Irish Pub called in a disturbance, a deranged, hostile customer. We pulled up outside the pub. I see Logan and I getting out of our issued vehicle, one hand on his weapon holster, his radio in his other hand, reporting to dispatch on our arrival to the scene. From outside I can hear the sounds of Mick Jagger screaming from the jukebox inside.
I see myself through a liquid dream, telling Logan to take the front as I make my way around back of the building, I see Detective Logan stopping, watching my back, asking me to wait, I see myself spinning around on the heal of my boot, my eyes scoring into his, I flinch in my dream-like-state as my own words cut through him in icy tones, “Are you questioning my authority Detective?”
I watch him now, seeing what I couldn’t before, I see him standing there, watching me disappear into the darkness of the alley, I see the great width of his shoulders hesitate in his direction, being pulled from the command I ordered and back to myself, the worry on his face brings me to tears now in my sleep, I see him call for back up as he retreats to the front entrance.
It’s there in the depths of the alley that I smell the reeking stench, in the black of night I sense a movement to my left, the static from the radio on my hip snaps my attention, nimble fingers fly to the dial, muting the noise, my first mistake. In silence I watch as I pull my weapon from its harness, my firearm braced under my left hand in the darkness, poised in the thick air.
The sound of scraping metal to my side, I spin around in the darkness, my breath constricted by the weight of my uniform, tuzla escort bayan I see myself tugging at my collar, craning my neck, gasping for air I can’t seem to find. It’s from behind me I hear a threatening voice at my back…
“Well, well if it isn’t Liuetent La Fay…”
I see myself spinning around to the voice behind me, lowering my upper body in the spin, my right leg high, making contact with the voice. A deep moan followed by a terrifying scream whirling at me, I can feel the rage even before it hits me, knocking me down, my head smacking loudly on the pavement, my gun fly’s out of my hand on impact.
In the dark I reach under my pant leg for the small automatic sleeping inside my boot, on my back, my weapon gripped between two shaking hands, arms braced in the air, I smell blood almost instantly, I know its mine from the severe ache in my head.
I hear the voice muttering in the darkness, my arms shifting in front of me, to my left, back to the right. My chest heaving, my eyes fighting the darkness, the fear that creeps into my gut. The voice again, in front of me now, I raise my upper body up slowly, careful not to move my legs, I can hear him crouching down, a gentle swirl in the air above my head, he’s swinging something above me, saying my name over and over in a slow sickening pattern. His speech is coagulated, but controlled.
Its then that I feel his slimy hand on my boot and the cold metal of what had to be a pipe slide across my cheek gently, I fought for self-control, commanding my body to remain still, inside I shook violently.
I heard Logan call my name from the entrance of the alley, with my thumb I flip the safety off, my ears straining on his voice, aiming at just below, the cold metal of the pipe swings over head once again, fingers clawing up my leg in a deadly crawl.
I toss in my dreams, tearing away at the sheet now drenched in my sweat, I hear my self saying a silent prayer as the sound of the swing of the pipe gets louder and faster over head, every things happening too fast, I hear Logan’s footsteps cautiously approaching, the hand getting higher on my leg, the fanning of the air above me, simultaneously, I feel myself pulling the trigger just as the pipe lowers with force smacking into my shoulder as I coil away from my fire and catching me on the back of the head once again, and a heavy weight of a lifeless body toppling down over mine, a chilly gloom fills my senses, the last thing I hear is Logan screaming my name.
I hear my name being called over and over, getting louder, something tender touching my face, brushing away at my wild curls, the voice calls to my attention, the touch, I raise my hands in defense, frantically waiving them in the air.
I hear a few groans from the voice as it grows louder, urging me to wake. Its the sound of my own screams over the rain that wakes me. I open my eyes to find myself already sitting up in bed, my hands shielding myself in desperation.
“Hey,” you whisper holding your hands up in a truce in front of my face, tears pouring freely from my eyes over salted skin as I throw myself into your arms, crawling into your lap, my legs wrapped tightly around your waist as you pull me near, stroking my back, whispering in my ear that everything is going to be alright, it’s over now.
My cries lessen as I listen to the sound of your voice, surrendering to the calming effects, the feel of your hands in my hair, I hear you call me by my first name leaving all normal formalities behind.
One hand on the back of my head, the other trailing down my back, just above my bottom, its then that I remember I had shed my silk gown, a deep heat creeps over the salt crust tears on my face, with my wrists crossed behind your head I pull away slightly, looking into your eyes in the moon filled room. Your eyes shift over my face, your hand brushing away a strand of damp hair, cupping my chin, tilting my face up to yours.
“Morgaine?” I hear you ask in question, eyes diving into mine, searching.
I opened my mouth to speak, sighing, air hissing between parted lips, not able to find the words to respond to you. My head bowed, eyes falling from your gaze. “No,” I hear you saying, one hand under my chin righting my face to yours. “Tell me.” You ask.
“I remember.” Was all I could say. “I remember everything.”
“Then you’ll want to be going home I imagine.” Your voice clipped, eyes holding onto mine, I cocked my head at escort tuzla the subtle accent that slipped from your tongue, a faint smile curving over my lips at the sound that lingered between us.
“Well — you must know the details of my stay much better then I do at this time…I would presume I have some time coming to me.” I joked trying to lighten the mood.
“Yes, you do, as much as needed. Your commander doesn’t expect your return for sometime.”
A smile caressed my lips, closing my eyes I inhaled a deep breath of sea air that drifted in. I felt your arms moving over me again and then the soft feel of a warm blanket covering my shoulders and being wrapped around me, covering me at last. I let you lean me back onto the bed, my head cradled against billowy pillows.
Surprise hit me when I felt the weight of your body reclining back onto the bed beside me. I open my eyes slowly, taking in your profile next to me. Your eyes closed, the look of concern and worry you’d worn the last week or more had now vanished.
Gingerly I reached a hand out towards you, my finger gently tracing down your forehead, I watched as lips twitched slightly under my touch. My fingernail trailed over the bridge of your nose, around the curve of a cheek, propping myself up on one arm now, tracing around the refined edges, the tip of my nail dipping into the opening between sensuous lips.
Inhaling sharply — tongue wrapped around my finger, drawing it into your mouth. Holding my breath as you massaged the tip of my finger, the pleasurable texture of teeth gently scraping, the wetness circling around the stem, an intense heat washed over me.
I had no control over my response, eyes wide watching you, a low throaty purr hummed in my throat. I watched as you turned on your side facing me, feeling myself blush in the darkness.
Pulling my hand away from your mouth, I found myself placing my finger, wet with your saliva to my own lips, sliding it inside my mouth, a hint of the cognac you’d sipped from earlier creped onto my own taste buds.
Exhaling heavily, but relaxed I closed my eyes, savoring your taste. I smile at you in the dark, I know you’re watching me, it use to be something I sensed now and then when I walked across the room, or when I passed within your gaze, but now, now it was something I felt. A touch I was sure of, a knowing.
I lingered for a moment, listening to your breathing, the sounds mingling with the cresting waves not far past the curtain walls.
“You know,” I began, stretching out, turning onto my side next to you, “Some things are still a little fuzzy.”
I wasn’t prepared for the deep chuckle of your laughter or mine own that followed. He took my hands in his, the glow of the moon crept in and out blowing curtains, our fingers intertwined, hands resting above our heads.
I shivered beneath the warmth of your breath on my neck, lips grazing my cheek as you leaned close to whisper in my ear. “Just how much do you remember La Fay?” I closed my eyes as you grasped my earlobe between your lips, tugging, suckling at tender flesh. “Do you remember that?”
Moaning softly, my teeth cutting into my bottom lip, “No–” I stammered, “Can’t say I do.”
I feel the curve of your smile over my lips now as you take my bottom lip, slightly quivering, plucking, flicking your tongue playfully at my top lip, dipping in, tracing along upper teeth, at last, that poetically carved mouth captures mine, tongues dancing together, teasingly I slowly explore your mouth, pulling your lips between my teeth, carefully gliding edges along plump skin.
“Mmm.” A soft moan is my only response. I feel your body climbing over mine now, our hands still clasped together above heads, resting on pillows, I can’t be sure of which of us held them there.
A soft touch caressed over my jaw, down my neck, fingers following down the trail of the delicate chain, lips tenderly kissed between my breasts where the stone lay. I feel you pausing there, fingers touching the stone. I open my eyes to find you staring at me, your face serious once again. “What is it?” I try to pull my hands free from our embrace, you hold me there tight.
“You wouldn’t remember this,” gently you held the stone up from my skin, rubbing it between your fingers, “do you?”
“No,” I whispered. I watched as your expression changed, your eyes clouding briefly.
“I got it for you, after we arrived here.” I heard you say.
I pulled a hand free from our lock, swept it up to your face, “I may not remember how I came by it, but I will never forget.” My words filled the room, making no sense and complete sense all the same in there significance.
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