Sunday 3 October 2010

54321 (Nightwatch).

(Don't.)

Ben and I were in the living room. The fire was low, the lights were off. I was tucked into Ben's arm while his free hand traced my ears, lips, nose, forehead. His eyes are so black, it's as if they grow larger when it's dark. It's beautiful. It's frightening. His breathing is even. He doesn't seem tired. I am falling asleep staring at him. He could do this for hours. He will regularly do this for hours, as if he is memorizing my features. One finger across my eyelashes and then down my cheek. Under my jaw and then he leans in for a kiss. An endless one in which I need to relax completely and breathe through him or not breathe at all.

His skin is cool. He is gentle, no razorburning tonight. Time has stopped moving. The stars have fixed into place in the sky and everything has fallen away. I go to whisper something and his hand returns to my face as he pulls away to look at me. He quiets me and then rubs his thumb across my bottom lip and my brain begins to fight. Putting Jacob in his place. A shattery-slick doubling of Ben's image that briefly turns to blonde and then I struggle to bring it back again. The image locks on Ben once more. I take a sudden, deep breath and he tightens his hold on me and returns to his quiet explorations. Earlobe. Hairline. The white-line scar under my nose.

I feel his whole body tense and then I realize we're not alone and I look up, upside down and see Lochlan standing in the door, bathed in light from the foyer, red curls damp and shining.

Leave us. A growl from Ben. It's not a request, it's an order. His possessiveness is incredible to me. Sometimes it is larger than life. Sometimes it is nowhere to be found. I have not seen the pattern yet, it simply depends on the day. It depends on the weather and it depends on the moment. This is one of them.

Lochlan chuckles. I know that sound. That's his challenge. His I-can't-believe-you-think-I'm-going-to-do-what-you-ask laugh. Incredulous, but then he holds out his helmet in a mock salute and heads out into the hallway again, slamming the door behind him. I am just being held into another kiss when I hear the motorcycle roar off, up the mountain. Away from me.

Lochlan does that on purpose. Night drives because he knows I will remain half-awake. He never cared if I slept. The others would stand guard, count hours, demand to see the dark circles and then admonish me endlessly for my poor sleeping, concern taking a front seat to everything else. Lochlan always told me when I would sit, wide-eyed, counting stars while he drifted off, that when I got tired enough I would sleep and until then worrying about it would only make it worse.

Early in the morning in total darkness when Ben sleeps he'll let go and I will startle awake again, needing to see if Lochlan ever came home. I will tiptoe down the quiet halls and through rooms until I arrive at his closed door. I will never knock. When I am satisfied that he is safe, home and present then I will sleep. And only then. In Lochlan's arms wrapped tight around me but facing away from him, toward the window, a soft breeze touching my face, dreaming of Ben. This is the time I am given that is my own, without question.

Lochlan does not need to memorize my features, he already knows them so well. Nostalgia serves as the axiom for his emotions and the rules are set by the circus as always. Don't get comfortable. Pulling up stakes is a daily event. He is too worn out from work to see to it that I sleep, so never mind, here, give guard to someone more capable because you're a walking hazard at this point.

A kiss on the same cheek traced by his friend and I slip away when the sun comes up. Back to my life, away from the past.

I return to the present and climb under the quilts and Ben holds his arms out. I am flush against him and his hand cradles my head. Stay with me, he whispers in his sleep. I am captive, unable to even nod and so I remain still, my arms wrapped around his neck, trying to will my still-warm flesh to transfer heat to him. He is cool still, exhausted and unable to fight in his dreams.

I will stay awake and fight for him, too. I'm not sure if their terrors are alive or dead though. Probably both. Just like mine.