A Iss Good-Bye

I never thought an empty room could be so full of emotion. All this formerly occupied space that once held our bed, our books, and our hopes was now reduced to basic white walls and dull beige carpeting.

"So..." Drew sighed, his tread so light I hadn't heard him approach. "I got the last of your stuff into my truck. Are you ready to go?"

I turned on my heel to take one last long glance at the man I'd spent eight months getting to know and love. He lowered his gaze; not wanting me to see whatever emotion took refuge behind his expressive hazel eyes.

"Yeah. I guess." I replied, walking past him to stand in the small kitchen. Here we'd made fancy breakfasts, elaborate dinners, and steamy love all in the same day. That countertop had been damned cold under my bare ass when he'd picked me up to fuck me in the warrior position, his hands pinning my shoulders as I'd come again and again while his pelvis ground against my clit. "I appreciate the help. You don't have to do all this if you don't want."

"Shit." Drew shrugged, looking past me at the softly falling November snow outside. "It's not shaping up to be the best weather for driving. Your little clown car can't handle the roads like my truck. And, we can get this over with in one fell swoop." I tried to bite back my frown, but he noticed and looked all the more awkward.

"Okay." A stray tendril of auburn hair tumbled over my left eye and I brushed it away. "So you're keeping the sofa and the loveseat's mine?" He nodded.

Moving sucks plain and simple. But trying to move unwieldy furniture down open backed stairs in a blizzard sucks even harder. The wind combed icy fingers through my hair, but Drew's reluctance to look me in the eye was more chilling than the arctic spray of snowflakes against my face.

At last, my possessions were all loaded into the back of his truck, the tarp was secured, and we bustled toward the cab to escape the fluffy onslaught around us. The engine roared into life and the truck's lights gave the falling snow a ghostly swirling effect. I sat back, mopping my brow as he floored the accelerator and steered out into our quiet residential street.

"Well you'll never have to listen to me bitching about how you can't seem to play anything but Fallout Boy or Panic! At the Disco when we're driving around." I tried, trying to suppress the shivers that shook my limbs despite my breaking a sweat lugging boxes and furniture.

"Good point." Drew agreed as a reluctant grin spread across his face. "And I honestly don't think I can take another afternoon of Sigur Ros during your yoga sessions."

"Yep. There's that damned silver lining again." I smiled back, playfully slugging him in the arm.

**

"You want me to put in for the pizza?" I handed him a plate and can of soda as we sat surrounded by stacks of boxes. Had we come full circle so quickly? He'd asked the same thing when I'd hosted our first official movie night, though we ended up making out about a quarter of the way into the indi drama I'd selected.

"No. I've got it." I assured, sitting cross-legged beside him on the floor, my hair still bit damp from the snow. "Just consider it thanks for your help."

"Cool."

Awkward silence ensued.

"I unpacked the stereo this morning. Let me find the remote." Boxes were tilted and adjusted in order to locate the missing remote as Drew heartily enjoyed a slice. I felt his eyes on my narrow ass as I bent and flexed. For the first time, I didn't know what I should do. Stand up and look elsewhere? Act as if I hadn't noticed? It didn't feel right for him to be sizing me up given where things stood.

At last, my fingers closed over the smooth plastic of the remote and I paused, still bent over a large box of DVDs. Drew loved to fuck me in this position, and I'd loved it too. Not just because he could get deep enough inside me to give the sex that piquant painful edge, but also because he'd wrap his arms around me when he was close to coming and the embrace seemed so impossibly intimate. The only fading embrace I knew now was the way my aubergine sweater slid down my back as I stood up.

"Lucie? You going to be okay?" I bit down on my lower lip to stop it from trembling.

"Yes. I'll be fine." Starting toward my miniscule kitchen, I longingly eyed the few bottles of alcohol that rested on top of the refrigerator. "Thanks again for letting me use your truck." Drew sighed, dropping the remainder of his slice on the plate and getting to his feet.

"Don't do that," he pleaded, resting against the threshold to my kitchen. "Don't get all formal and ladylike with me. I'm not your attorney. I love you."

I stiffened, my teeth pressing harder into my lower lip.

"Can we please not start this shit again?" Drew went tense, eyes narrowed.

"It isn't shit, Lucienne. It's our lives and my feelings toward you. Believe it or not, I will always love you." My cheeks burned and blood scalding hot as fire raced through my veins. He had a lot of balls.

"You need to leave," my tone was cold as the winter outside my windows but I didn't care. "And you need to leave now. Take the fucking pizza with you if you want. But you have to go home, Drew. Thanks again for helping me move." If I poured myself a drink now, I knew it wouldn't be the last. I had to work tomorrow and getting drunk didn't exactly help one's morale when the alarm beckoned in the wee hours of morning.

"I don't want any more pizza." The tranquil hazel of his eyes grew darker with concealed storms.

"Well stay if you like, then. I've got unpacking to do."

The television was a bit of welcomed noisy distraction as I squeezed past Drew, stiffening when his hand brushed my waist with a familiarity born from thousands of touches. I shot him a furious glare, and then returned to my destination.

One of the smaller boxes labeled "kitchen" was right on top of the nearest stack. I grabbed it, tossing my hair out of my eyes. Without slowing, I plowed right toward Drew, the order to get out of my way unspoken but plainly obvious. His muscular build drew back against the wall, letting me pass.

"All right." Lowering his head in defeat, he followed me the few steps into the kitchen. "I'm going to go. But you call me if you need anything at all, sweetness. I mean that. Anything."

Cautiously, he reached for me.

I pressed back into a corner, the box a buffer between us.

"Thank you." My response was a choked whisper and I hated myself for it.

With all the strength I could muster, I focused my attention on the fast and flashy car commercial on the television as Drew reached for the box. I clutched it closer to my bosom, refusing to meet his eyes. But Drew was strong. He had always been strong. Without any great effort at all, he pried the carton from my desperately clutching fingertips, my knuckles white with exertion to not surrender it freely.

"I love you." The gentle whisper of his breath against my cheek tried to penetrate my resolve. I would not allow it.

"Good bye, Drew."

"I will always love you, Lucie. Whether you believe me or not." The threat of tears burned my eyes. Still I said nothing. If I closed my eyes and waited, he would leave. He had to leave.

The soft chuffing of cardboard against the formica countertop was a warning bell in my head. But like the hare paralyzed with blind panicwhile staring down the shaft of the arrow that will end his life, I was powerless to move. Even as I felt the subtle disturbance in the air when he stepped closer. I only closed my eyes tighter, my breath coming in rapid bursts.

"At least let me kiss you good-bye." Had I truly heard the plea or only imagined it? Drew was rarely so frank and open with his wants. Frantically, I shook my head.

I felt the heat of his skin like the sun's warmth as he leaned close to my cheek, his soft lips a contrast to the five o'clock shadow growing over his jaw. I winced, a whimper escaping me before I could help myself.

As if this had been the signal he'd been waiting for, Drew's arms gently slid about my shoulders, his lips pressing harder against my cheek. I started to shake, desperately trying to shore up the dam that held my tears at bay.

"Please don't cry," Drew whispered, his embrace tightening. "You know I hate to see you cry..." I wriggled to get free but he wouldn't let me. "Come on, Lucie. I know this isn't easy. It isn't easy for me, either."

A great gasping sob broke from my lips and Drew caught my chin in his fingertips, tilting my face up toward his, his features blurred through the veil of my tears. "Your eyes are so beautiful, baby. They're so bright when you cry... Like that jade necklace you wear. I'll never forget your eyes when you're crying."

Without warning, his face moved closer to mine, blotting out the faint light from the living room an instant before his mouth pressed to mine. I stiffened, refusing to part my lips, but he was undeterred. A soft moan caught in his throat as he trailed kisses over my jaw, down my throat, and just above my collarbone. That wasn't fair. He knew how much kisses on my neck weakened me. And now, he was using that knowledge to his advantage, softly nipping the flesh below my left ear as my knees went weak, my heart pounding in my ears.

Nuzzling, nibbling, and stroking my neck with his lips, Drew's fingertips slid down my back to the hem of my sweater. With the slowness of a snail, they eased up the knitted fabric, then rested hot and hard against the small of my back. The ticking of the wall clock I'd recently hung in the kitchen and the soft murmur of something dramatic on the television sounded particularly loud. My throat sang with tension and pleasure, Drew's lips playing me like a prodigy manipulating their preferred instrument. It wasn't easy to suppress my urge to moan with building waves of bliss, but somehow, I managed.

Without warning, past memories of us in this very position intermingled with what I was presently experiencing. Drew and I kissing outside my old apartment door, wanting to continue the explorations of each other's bodies with our lips and tongues but prevented from doing so by the presence of my very conservative room mate.

How sweet it had been to share kisses like this under May's full moon, the dogwood trees in our apartment courtyard in bloom, moonlight frosting the ivory petals and dancing in Drew's eyes. We'd kissed under that star-strewn sky as if we were the only ones left in the world. At that moment, it felt as if that could very well be true, but we didn't care.

Now, teetering on the precipice of solitude and a life separate from his, this felt desperate and wrong. I wanted to stop. Wished I could push him away with firm hands and indignant rebukes. All I could do was lay limp in his arms as his lips sealed our mouths and hearts with a painfully sweet kiss.

If I had been able to breathe properly, I would have analyzed his taste. My entire body was absorbing and processing. The psychiatry student in me was ticking off all the signals of vulnerability I was giving and his attempts to compensate for them by offering strength and reassurance. My body, trained by seven months of his expert touch, was responding despite my mental desires. Between us, my stiffening nipples pushed painfully against my bra, the warm tingling almost painfully intense as he tilted his head, his tongue delving deeper into my mouth.

The scent of snow still lingered in his hair and I was shivering. From cold, lust, or heartache I could not say. Fingertips eased up and down my spine, soothing me into an anxious arch against him. My own fingers twined in the little hairs at the nape of his neck and he moaned, pressing his forearms against me and pulling me closer, his groin against mine. And as I knew it would be, his cock was already hard from our kisses and caresses. When I tried to pull away, he broke the kiss to stroke my cheek with cool fingertips, his eyes asking... No... Begging me for this last bit of heaven between us.

"I can't." The words, choked and painful, fell from my lips. Drew's lips brushed my cheek, my lashes, and my brow. I tried to offer a response but could only stare through wide eyes as his hands fell to the zip and button of my pants.

I was the chrysalis being unwillingly pried from the safety and darkness of the cocoon I constructed to hide from the world. My transformation into the carefree butterfly healed from the tragedy of our mutual loss was nowhere near complete. But his fingers peeled away the softness of my sweater, gently easing it down the silken tendrils of my hair. The cold of this space didn't touch me. I was trying to retreat back into the numbness that had recently served me so well, but he drew me out as he always did.

My small bottom bumped against the countertop, the cool surface pressing against my thighs for an instant before Drew had me in his arms, his shirt rubbing against my bare skin as the tears began to roll down my cheeks in greater profusion. I looked up and tumbled into his eyes an instant before he fell to kissing me once again.

Love was such a dual instrument of ecstasy and agony. Kisses scalded my heart and cradled my soul, but I couldn't push him away though I longed to do so. He was all soft musky cologne, skin smoothed over muscular abs under my fingertips, and sandpapery stubble against my cheek as I hooked my thumbs into the belt loops of his pants. Of course, they slid down his narrow hips with no resistance, as did his boxers a second later. And though I knew how our story would end, I needed to reaffirm it by touch, sight, taste, and smell. I didn't want to hear anything. No confessions of regret. No declarations of undying love. Not even the guttural groan that foretold the coming of Drew's own thunderous crescendo.

God, his skin was perfect. Resting my head against his chest was instantly soothing, and I recalled long ago winter afternoons identical to this one where I'd done nothing else but cuddle with him and sip cocoa as we snuggled, serenaded by Jeff Buckley. And as a lyric in one of my favorite of his songs so eloquently put it, he would be the tear that hangs inside my soul forever.

"Are you cold?" His mouth was right under my ear, the richness of the words vibrating my very being. "Here..." His arms were sure and tight around my shoulders, and my fingertips traced the definition of his shoulder blades.

Drew's hot length pushed against my thigh, as he pressed closer, cupping my ass to force my body closer to his, the heat of his skin washing over me like an aura as his stiff shaft reiterated his need against my inner thigh. Oh God, I was going to drown in tears and tension. He smelled so good. Clean and sensual from the weather and soap... My whimper refused to be swallowed back and with its escape went any last bit of resolve.

The moment we were sharing pushed everything else away. My nipples stung from need as my breasts pushed against his chest. The fine sprinkling of hair there buffered my cheek while my fingertips found and rubbed the silken flesh of his cock. I knew the trace of every vein just beneath the skin, the way he'd shudder when my index finger gently circled the velvety tip, and predicted the first drops of precome that would coalesce from the tiny opening there, slipping onto my fingertips to be softly rubbed up and down the underside of the shaft. Drew twitched in my embrace, hands rising to my shoulders to pull me from him so his mouth could ravenously seek the stiff peaks of my nipples.

Warmth and wetness surrounded my left nipple, and the hot flick of his tongue made me shiver. I held his cock in a tightening grip, pumping the hard length with just enough friction to make his hips start a gentle cadence. My left nipple sang with heat and cold as he left it to suckle my right, tingles flooding my breasts and urging my pussy into covetous contractions of need. Drew's teeth pinched my flesh and I gasped, nails of my free hand digging into his shoulders. With that, he stopped pulling on my breast and urged me all the way back on the countertop, capturing my hips in his hands and drawing me close. Drew leaned forward, the point of his cock pushing slowly but relentlessly into the slippery silk of my churning sex, our trembling simultaneous.

Yes. The pressure of his sides against my calves would be just... here... I pressed my legs against him, secure in his unflagging strength. And though he always tried to go easy, the moment I felt him sliding deep inside was the moment I took a shaky breath. I deserved to see the love in his eyes. We'd done such an excellent job of masking our passions for each other lately that the least he owed me was to give me this moment freely and completely. And as I parted my lids just a crack to see how shadow painted his face, the desire and adoration in his eyes seized my heart.

"Hold me, Drew. Please..." my words were frantic and his cock was suddenly demanding, pushing deep inside me with the ease of my wetness and the subtle sound of slippery secretions and thrusting flesh. "Just this last time... Please hold me."

Arms strong as steel slid under my shoulders, and I reached up to cling to him as he worked his hips and I slammed downward, his cock filling me and pounding hard against my womb, each thrust making me sigh sweet sounds against his neck. His hands were warm and reassuring against my waist as I rode his cock, feeling it bringing me closer and closer to orgasm but not quite close enough until I shifted slightly, getting pressure right up against my g-spot. I gasped and he winced as my nails dug shallow crescents into his shoulders.

"Come on, Lucienne. Come, baby..."

A juicy explosion stole my breath and detonated millions of tingling aftershocks throughout my body, my head back and lips parted in perfect breathlessness. Drew groaned, roughly grabbing my ass and forcing me down harder on his cock until I was practically screaming in overly intense bliss. God damn, but his dick rammed hard enough to hurt. With a moan, we fell back, he on top of me as his hips slammed against my thighs, cock throbbing violently before I felt the sudden hot burst of come deep inside me, squirting out hard enough to seep around the base of his cock and run down my splayed thighs. We lay perfectly still in the aftermath of our heartache and lust, neither of us daring to disturb the tenuous bond we'd achieved.

The rhythmic calming of our breathing let in the ambient noise from the rest of the apartment, and with its return came the reality of us. We, who in a matter of moments, would separate into Drew and I. Right now, we were joined in body, spirit, and heart. But the cleaving had to come, and the break would be clean and gentle. Was it wrong to think of a tiny ember of hope glowing amid the clean and gentle? Probably. But surely as day follows night, I felt that tiny fire still hitching contraband breaths in my heart. Drew was sliding out of my body and life, but he knew where I was if he ever wanted to build our sparks to flames, and those sparks would not be vanquished. Not in the solitary depths of winter, and never in the memories my mind and body forged and cherished.

Finis.