Tightrope Walker is now stuck in my head. Completely and yet infuriatingly because I don't know the words. It came on over the speaker on the patio last night and Lochlan got the slow dance he was denied the other night when Ben took me into his arms instead and then distractions came along and we didn't get the chance.
He's got a glass of wine in one hand and me in his arm, tucked close, my nose parked against his lower lip, our eyes closed. My blood is watered and lit. It's forty degrees if it's a minute and every other soul on this point is in the pool. Smartly so. Lochlan comes to life when it's warm. The heat just fires him up like the sun that he is and we need to shield our eyes.
And I forgot how warm I am, sweat trickling down the back of my neck, eyes wild, hands sticky, brain mush, heart swollen and bursting in the circle of light his attention throws on me.
I reach up with one hand to pause the moment and he takes my hand before I can.
Don't do that. It needn't be one moment you have to try and stay in. It should be every moment.
I nod and my bangs stick to my forehead. He smiles and plants a kiss against them. Then he puts his wine glass down, taking mine too (haven't needed it in a while) and he puts his hands up around my head and a kiss bursts us into flame.
(Out breath inside)
He pulls back to stare at me for a second, focusing suddenly. He bends down for another kiss, just to be sure and then he has my hand and we're running through the fields. Back through the years, minutes rewinding, thorns scratching our legs and arms, sun setting, flowers closing as we go. We make it back to the camper and he locks the door behind us, back against it, a laugh on his mouth before he charges three steps into me, crashing us both onto the little cot, crushing me beneath him, pulling our clothes off, music swelling in my brain but it's not Tightrope Walker anymore because it's not the right time and I am pulled back up naked into his arms, keeping him inside me, unwilling to ever let go. He is breathing heavy against my hair, my arms struggle and slip to hold on. He puts us back down and slows to a languid crawl. Crickets fill my ears as darkness fills the windows and the world shrinks down to the size of a camper and that's all we'll ever need.
When I cry out he puts his hand over my mouth, his head against mine.
Shhhhh, Peanut.
And he begins to slow even further, slipping away before coming back harder than ever, gritting his teeth, keeping out the stars as he follows me through, checking himself not to squeeze me too tightly, not to crush me in his release before he lets go but doesn't, keeping my fingers laced in his as he lies on his back, pulling me in close. Our skin sticks together in the summer night heat and I am asleep as he begins to say something.
No idea what it is.
In the morning I remember.
I love you too, Locket.
The sun has made the camper the size of a room now and there's a resident Ben and we want for nothing and you have to defeat all of seven separate locks to get to me now.
Told you everything would be okay. I keep every promise I can, Peanut.
Windsweep set-down
shadowside lightaway
fool-eyed leader of the
tightrope walker