A Quiet Evening
By D. F. Ray
She wonders the streets of this sleepy little town alone, her mind miles away from familiar city streets, smiling to herself. Though she doesn't know, the small smile makes her already pretty countenance, beautiful. She walks unaware that in the shadows she is being watched. The darkness is his shield, his cloak of invisibility. He is as quiet as her shadow, and as unnoticed. This isn't a bad area for her to wander, but in this day and time, no one is ever safe, but she doesn't worry. Abby knows she can handle any she evil she encounters and defeat it, with the help of her secret love, Crane, of course knowledge of the martial arts and self defense courses don't hurt either. But tonight is not a night for thoughts of battling dark forces, but a night for relishing the dark, like the comforting arms of a lover, rather than fearing it.
He watches her safely to her house, smiling as he does so. She is my love, he thinks. I have found what men have searched for, conquered civilizations for, climbed mountains, and started wars for, love. In its pure and natural state it is the most fleeting of all emotions and yet with Abby at my side, in my heart and as my love I can endure my solitary existence. These thoughts pass through Cranes mind in the flash of seconds, as he watches his true love enter the house building, with the aid of the doorman, who bows as he opens the door for her. She lives in the world above, where appearance is makes him an unwelcome visitor rather than a resident. He cautiously makes his way down the darkened street knowing he will see her shortly, and his heart beats so quickly now he fears it will burst from his chest in his anticipation.
Abby enters her house, making quick work of those mundane tasks she performs daily after a long day at the sheriff's office. She changes clothes, while listening to her messages, stopping only occasionally to jot a note to herself in her day planner about who to call back and why. Finally she dims the lights, all thoughts of the day and the problems at the office forgotten. Her only thought is of him, only him, my love, Crane. She knows he will come, instinctively his only explanation that he wanted to be sure she was alright. Amazing, this seemingly psychic bond that had developed between them, if one is in need or in peril the other knows with unerring certainty that they are needed. The bond also works to cement their love. Neither doubts the passion of the other. If only everyone could experience this, the world would be different, for him especially, she thinks. But better to not dwell on the negative tonight, she smiles wistfully and continues her end of the evening routine.
Her heart feels his presence before she sees him. There, standing at the front window, she cannot see his face, but she doesn't need to see it. It is a face etched in her heart and soul for all time, a beautiful face. She steps to the front door and immediately into his arms. Strong arms, they block out the world and all its troubles. He is taller than she, and he completely enfolds her petite frame with his body. The embrace is long and filled with love and tenderness. When it is over, she looks into his big, blue, sensitive eyes and smiles. He returns her smile with one of his own.
After several hours of just simply being together, Crane realizes that she has fallen asleep holding his arm, with her head lightly on his shoulder. He smiles, realizing that she is tired from all the day's activities that rule her world. Gently ever so gently, he places the book of poetry he has been reading aloud to her aside. Then with an ease borne of love and practice, he stands without allowing her to feel any movement, and lifts her sleeping form. Walking slowly, for fear of waking his sleeping beauty, Crane takes Abby to her bedroom, where he lays her lightly on the bed and covers her with a comforter he finds lying at the foot of the bed. He can't resist, she looks so peaceful, lying there with that cherubic smile on her face. I feel drawn to her so strongly, and he kneels low to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. To do more would be ungentlemanly. He quietly leaves the way he came, out the door, and disappears, quiet as the shadows he knows will protect him into the night.