Fated

The downpour was by far the worst we had experienced since moving in together. Even the floor of our usually "rainproof" enclosed balcony/patio was being pelted with the torrential rain. The lightning accompanying the rain was striking often very close all around the apartment complex, the resultant thunder practically deafening.

Yet, I sat in a patio chair on the enclosed balcony. The thunder rolled through the ground and through the building and rocked my body. The wind blew the plethora of massive raindrops through the screen to moisten me. The many flashes of lightning practically blinded me with their reflections off the neighboring white-sided buildings and the mini-ponds scattered throughout the parking lot.

I watched as Eric's car made its way through a mini-pond and finally parked in his assigned space underneath the carport. He turned off the headlights and the engine, and then leaned back in the driver's seat, clearly thankful to no longer be driving through the crazy storm. I smiled to myself, recognizing his fatigue, knowing that I would pamper him throughout the evening, and stood and returned into the apartment proper.

I hurried, and by the time I heard the key penetrate the lock, I was wearing the bikini once again. I waited until I had heard the door close and lock again before stepping out of my bedroom.

My big brother was still facing the door as he took off his shoes, placing them on the mat to dry. Only then did he turn around and see his little sister leaning against the wall with her arms folded underneath her breasts and a welcoming smile upon her lips.

Nothing was said as we embraced. His wet clothes felt strange, yet they also felt good against me. His hug was tighter than usual, evidence of his thankfulness at being home once again.

"Get out of those wet clothes," I suggested softly.

"Okay." His kiss to my forehead expressed a very deep distress, and I internally lamented the lack of contact as he acted upon my suggestion.

When my big brother returned, he wore shorts and a t-shirt, definitely more than he usually wore when he and I were alone in the apartment. He stopped when he saw me and drank me in with his eyes, and that was enough to cause my heart to beat faster and a warmth to make itself known in my core. Throughout dinner, although our banter was lighthearted, he kept caressing me with his eyes, kept looking down at my smallish breasts. Yet it was also clear that something was weighing heavily on his mind -- something he was not yet ready to mention to me, so I did not ask.

We watched cable news together, then Eric went into his bedroom to do a little work while I worked on improving my cornering in a racing game's practice mode. When he finally emerged from his bedroom, I could see distress plainly emblazoned across his face and instantly set the game on Pause as he moved to sit beside me on the futon.

My big brother took me into his arms, holding me tighter than usual. "What's wrong?" I finally asked.

It took him a while to finally reply. "Our VP's wife died late today," he said. "I'd seen her a few times when she'd drop by the office to bring him something he'd forgotten, or so they could go out for lunch together. Her car hydroplaned when the first major storm blew through earlier today, and she was very seriously injured in the resulting eight-car collision. Just before I left the office, we got the call that she'd died from her injuries."

I did not know how to react, so I simply kissed his cheek and endured his tightening grasp. It was never easy to speak about death, and certainly harder still for him since he had tangentially known her.

"It made me realize how fragile everything in life really is," he finally said, getting to what was truly troubling him. "We have so much, but it can be taken away in an instant. And ever since we first learned about the accident but especially since I left the office and braved the same treacherous driving conditions as George's wife, I've been worried about how my life would be so drastically and negatively changed if I were to suddenly lose you."

I felt the heave of his chest before I heard his soft sob. I was touched that my big brother felt so deeply about me that he cried when thinking about possibly losing me. All I could think to do was kiss away the tears before they meandered too far down his cheeks and allow him to hold me as long as he needed to assure himself that I was still there, that I would be there for the rest of my life.

...although, as was the case with his Vice President's wife, "the rest of my life" could suddenly be shortened beyond expectation.

Yet I was still with him. I eased back a little from his tight grasp and took a hand, placing it directly over my heart. "It's still beating," I assured my big brother, knowing that he could feel my heartbeat in his palm and probably well up his forearm as well. "It's still beating, and I'm still here. As long as it's beating, I'll be with you, and even after it stops beating, I'll still be with you, just differently."

His tears renewed, and I kissed them away again, yet my big brother kept his hand over my heart for a long time, as if he needed to feel my heartbeat to reassure himself that he would not lose me.

When his tears ceased at last, I stood. "Why don't you go undress and lay on the bed," I suggested, "and I'll go get the massage oil."

It had been a while since I had last given my big brother a massage, but it was the perfect time and the perfect activity. The massage helped him to relax, helped to ease his mind as my hands eased his body, and he was lulled into a needed slumber which began with over an hour of loving hands kneading herbal-scented oil into his skin and ended well into the night with a little sister laying naked in his arms as she watched over him with concern and with love.