It rained heavily as we packed the car. Your jacket was soaked by the time we were done, so you left it behind and got behind the wheel in that sweater I knitted for you last Christmas. The white colour looks great against your dark skin. I knew it would.
We drove through the wet streets and out of town. It was 4 in the afternoon, and the sun was already close to the horizon. I looked at you. You look so handsome, so manly. I looked at your hands steering the car. Why do I always find you so attractive when you drive a car?
You caught me looking at you and gave me a smile. I put my hand on your thigh, and felt your strong muscles.
-This is going to be a great weekend, you said.
-It already is, I answered.
And it was. All the little things made it great. Planning it, arranging a combined house/babysitter, packing our bags, going in the car with you... With you. Being with you has never ceased being great. My friend. My love.
Out in the countryside, the autumn trees were burning in red, orange and yellow. Leaves were drifting in the wind or mouldering brown on the wet ground. We arrived at our cabin just as the sun went down. The wind was chilly, and the rain was still pouring down. We grabbed our bags and ran to the house. We got a bit wet while I fumbled to get the right key to open the door. Then finally we got indoors, and I turned the lights on.
The cabin wasn't big, just two rooms. A bedroom and a living room, with a tiny kitchen in one end and a fireplace in the other. The whole house was made out of chunky logs, the rugs on the floor were hand woven, and there was a big fur on the floor in front of the fireplace. I couldn't tell what animal it had belonged to, but you told me that it was a bear.
We took our bags into the bedroom and unpacked them, putting underwear and socks in the drawers of a small cabinet, and then we tucked the bags away under the bed.
Your sweater was damp, so you went to start a fire in the fireplace. I took the plastic bag I had brought into the mini kitchen, and took out cans of beans, tomatoes, and tuna, a package of eggs, a bottle of milk, different types of bread, a box of pasta, and a ham wrapped in paper.
While you made a fire, I worked my magic in the kitchen. When the room was warm, and the smell of burning wood blended with that of tomatoes and spices, you went around the room, taking something out of a plastic bag of your own, placing out things. As I poured the Carbonara pasta sauce over to plates of pasta and topped them with yolks and black pepper, you turned the lights off, and 30-something candles spread their soft light over the room, together with the fire from the fire place.
-Oh, honey! I beamed.
You smiled at me, and sat down at the table, while I served the pasta. As I took the heated garlic rolls out of the oven, I heard a "cling" sound, and as I looked up, you poured red wine in two glasses. I put the garlic bread on the table, and accepted the wine you gave me. I raised my glass.
