The Violet Hour
- Tabatha Jenkins
- Mar 10, 2017
- 4 min read
She pulled the curtains closed, but still she could see the moonlight peeking between them. The light hit the floor and walked around without welcome, without wanting. It crawled up the bed sheets and made them glow bright, far too bright to sleep soundly.
Still she took off her clothes and watched her silhouette slip on a nightgown. Maybe tonight she would dream nothing, she would only see and feel a dark coma and not even know she was asleep until she awoke the next morning. She tried not to walk into the lit floor as she skipped to her bed; she slid under the covers and forced her eyes closed. She closed them so tightly that soon her eyelids came alive with swirling figures and dark fireworks.
But she still felt wide awake; it wasn’t until she opened her eyes and let them focus on a spot on the ceiling that they started to feel heavy. She didn’t rush it; she let them lose their strength as soon her body began to slow and calm down. Soon her eyes closed shut and she felt herself sliding into that dark silence that she had been longing for. She couldn’t feel the moonlight anymore, despite the fact that it covered the covers, nearly penetrating them onto her skin. Her hands almost glowed as they softly lay on top of the bed and her breathing was paced.
Her dreams were nothing but a black canvas, and that was the way she wanted them. Tonight, she didn’t want to wake feeling the same feeling she had been for nights on end; his hand tracing the bed, tracing the covers, tracing her outline, tracing her lips. No, he was a fantasy, and yes at one time she had longed to feel his touch. She had longed to feel his weight on top of her and his breath falling against the small of her neck. But after time, when his nightly visits became less and less, she realized that only touching and small stolen kisses were the length of what he would give her. The rest was just hopeful wishing.
So she closed her windows tight, locked all the doors shut, and gave her heart a real lesson. She trained herself to not wish for him, and though the fight seemed hard, she had been able to resist him. She would not offer herself up to an emotional massacre that she was sure would come when she gave all of herself to him and he took it in vain. She couldn’t bear the thought of really letting him inside and then him never coming again, of him taking such a huge piece of her and then running away with it.
Halfway through the night, it felt like maybe she had succeeded in another night resisting. But then the sun started to peek over the trees, it sent violet hues into the clouds that had been hidden by the dark. The moonlight faded away and was painted over by lines of blue and purple.
Then…she felt it.
The covers indented under his hand, it started at the bottom and then slowly ran up to her thighs. Though there were two quilts separating them, it was like she could feel his burning touch passing right into her skin. She didn’t open her eyes; she didn’t want to see his face because she knew she would fall in love with it all over again. This was her last bit of resistance against him. But he knew her body and soul like the pages of a book and he flipped right to the middle. He laid his hands on her shoulders and then leaned down until his breath was traveling a few inches to her neck. She could hardly breathe, she wanted to look so bad, she wanted to melt into and mold around him but she still felt in danger. Even when he pressed his lips to her neck and took his time leaving an invisible imprint there, she kept her eyes closed. His fingers crawled from her shoulders under the covers and rested themselves on her stomach. Her heart skipped a beat when he suddenly pulled the covers back and laid his head on her chest while he kissed the other side of her neck. She wanted to reach up and wrap her hands in his hair and pull him closer but she still didn’t want to give in. She felt his lips slide up from her neck and kiss her jawline and then her cheek, they lingered at her lips. He was waiting.
He was waiting for her to finally admit how much she needed him. And suddenly the words felt so heavy on her lips, like they couldn’t wait to spring off her tongue. He teased her, coaxed her to say them. He nibbled at her chin and kissed it, softly moaning along her jawline. His hands worked their way from her stomach to her waist, gently pulling her up to line his body. It was all so much, such a carefully planned equation, that she couldn’t change the answer.
“Please.” was all she whimpered in the air for him to know what to do.
She finally opened her eyes and gazed into his chiseled face. His eyes stared deep into hers and she felt so small yet desired under their gaze. He kissed her, so deeply, and she kissed him back. She let his hands trace patterns all over her body, and she let his lips follow those patterns. The growing sunlight covered their skin as they moved together soft and slow, slow enough to make it last. She made sounds that she had never heard before, and she felt his groans vibrate from her neck to her toes. This felt so new and so real that she didn’t feel like either of them could ever run away from this. They were bonded.
The sun raised high in the sky and made their bodies shadows on the wall as they lay together. She nestled her body into his arm and laid her head on his chest. Their breathing was paced yet unsteady, and there was a question still on her mind.
“Will you stay now? Will you not run away?” she asked him.
“Every night for the rest of our lives.” He promised her.
