"Who the hell is that?" I muttered, rolling out of bed. Groggily, I shuffled downstairs. "Coming," I called out.
Someone had been knocking on the door. At this hour, I hoped they had a reasonable excuse.
It was raining. Thunder. Lighting. The perfect storm. I loved composing with weather like this; it was my inspiration. The sounds, the feelings, the shivers down your spine: that's what makes great music.
I unlocked the door and the screen shot open from the wind. A shadowy figure stood in the doorway, dripping wet. All I could see were his eyes shining in the rain. He was breathing heavily. Half-asleep, I yawned, "God, you must be soaked. Come in," and I directed him toward the living room.
Rubbing my eyes, I followed him onto the couch. We sat for a moment as I stretched and mumbled, "So, who the hell are you?"
He removed his hood as time stood still. "Hey, Tom," he smiled. Kyle.
"Oh, you have got to be freakin' kidding me," I stumbled to the kitchen, leaving him alone. "How much did I drink? How crazy am I?" I wailed, rifling through the garbage, trying to find empty bottles.
He stood up and met me in the kitchen. "Tom, it's really me." And so it was. Kyle Bishop, standing in my very apartment. The boy who managed to steal my heart and lose the beat of his own in the blink of an eye.
"It can't be," I whispered. "You're dead."
He pulled me into a tight embrace, sobbing quietly. Tears dripped down my face, blending in with his soaked sweatshirt. He finally looked up at me.
"It is you," I murmured. I would know those gorgeous eyes anywhere. Unique. One of a kind.
He nodded and wiped the tears from my face. Such an old soul.
"What are you doing here?"
"I don't really know," he shrugged. He sat down at the piano bench and played a few notes.
I joined him and played a chord. "I've missed this," I reflected, my fingers chasing after his up and down the white and black keys. "I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too. That's why I came back."
"Really?" I was shocked. I knew the kid had made his way into my heart, but had no clue he felt the same way.
"Really," he grinned sheepishly. It was just like old times- although they were few, they were some of my favorite memories. For the past few weeks I had been sitting up at this very bench late at night, missing his laugh, his jokes, his embarrassed smile, and his touch. Oh, how I missed his touch. Even just a brush of the finger tips left me hot and bothered, and this kid knew how to get me going. "What are you thinking about?" he asked.
"Isn't it obvious?" I smirked, giving him a sly grin.
He glided over to me, like the angel he was. Getting closer to me, I could see the glistening tears in his eyes. He had missed me, too. "Can I tell you a secret?"
"Anything," I answered, desperate for those lips to be on mine.
"You were the last thing to cross my mind after I stepped off that curb."
The words drove me mad and ravaged my thoughts. I couldn't take it- I had to have him.
Kyle must have felt the same way. He kissed me powerfully and forcefully, with such passion and determination I had never experienced before. Our tongues danced the tango and the mambo, our hands gripping each other's bodies tightly.
"Kyle," I murmured, taking in every moment. The way his lips felt on mine. How the skin exposed just below his sweatshirt felt. The sounds erupting from his vocal chords, squeaking with pleasure and longing. I recorded everything in my brain; I never wanted to lose the sensation.
"I want you, Tom," he breathed into my ear. I grabbed his hand and led him over to the sofa. He pounced on me upon reaching the cushions, eagerly kissing every crevasse of my face. His teeth grazed my earlobe, unleashing emotions I hadn't felt in such a long time.
"I need you, Tom," he panted, pulling off my tee-shirt in one fluid motion. My heart skipped a thousand beats- he was so aggressive and forceful. The kid had chutzpah, and I loved it.
"I need you, Kyle," I responded, unzipping the hoodie and tossing it behind the couch. He removed his shirt and breathed deeply; his chest rising and falling.
We kissed once more as he worked his way down my neck. "Oh Kyle," I sighed with every motion. "Why did you have to leave me?"
"I'm here now," he replied between kisses, reaching my chest. Planting smacks everywhere, I couldn't resist. I melted under each brush of his lips, every flick of his tongue. "And I fully intend to make the best of my time here with you."
He reached the band of my pajama pants. I couldn't wait anymore. I looked at him with such longing, with such desire. Slipping them over my knees, he stared lovingly into my eyes. "I cannot believe how lucky I am to spend one more night with you," he spoke softly, guiding his hands to where I needed them the most. I closed my eyes, enjoying his grace.
"Oh," I mumbled, responding to his motion, needing more and more. I closed my eyes and felt him move a free hand to mine. He locked his fingers in mine, continuing the movement with the other hand. I couldn't help but blush- this is just what I had needed after being so tightly wound the past few weeks.
"Look me in the eyes," he demanded. I obliged. It was so powerful- maintaining eye contact. So close. So personal.
I was almost ready to reach climax when he lowered his gaze and began kissing between my thighs. He knew how to keep me interested- I was glad I taught him a thing or two during our late-night sessions together.
Working both mouth and hand, the only sound was the squeaking of the couch slowly rocking back and forth in time to Kyle's movement. Finally finishing, I was overcome with such intense emotion that I began to cry. "Oh, Kyle," I wailed.
"Beautiful, sweet, loving boy," I continued as he sat up on the edge of the couch. I put my pants back on as I kneeled in front of him, my knees digging into the rough pillows. "Why did they have to take you away?"
He kissed me once more, gently, on the lips. Then another on the forehead. "I love you, Tom" he confessed.
"I love you too, Kyle."
I awoke hours later, sprawled out on the couch, shirtless. Clutching a pillow, I realized I had been sobbing all night. I sat upright and felt the tears drip down onto my chest. I made my way over to the piano.
"It's gorgeous," Julia commented, not at all fazed by my lack of clothing. "What's it called?"
I smiled to myself, remembering the wonderful night I had experienced before. I turned to face her, my face bright and the feeling of accomplishment deep in my heart. I whispered, "Eyes in the Rain."