The Break of Dusk
The petite Latina heaved a heavy sigh, squirming and wincing cautiously at the pain in her right heel. Damn injury, she thought. It had been exactly 3 months and a half since she injured her heel and her desire to get back to work was as desperate as ever.
Somnolence still in her beautiful brown eyes, she stifled a small yawn, her head pillowed delicately on their bed. The doctor had released her with a good prognosis after surgery and she still found it hard to believe her foot would fall apart without the titanium plate that now resided in it. She had never sustained any severe injuries-or at least injuries that required being months away to recuperate-in her career. The last one she could remember was hurting her hand a few years ago, but that paled in comparison to this.
Brushing annoying strands of hair off her face, she turned to glance out the window. It looked about 6 in the evening with the colors of dusk shading the horizon and near darkness tinting parts of the skies. The sun was slowly descending and disappearing out of sight, eager to return to its state of slumber, it seemed. The picturesque view brought a smile to her face. It was during times like these she most appreciated everything God had given her, both good and bad, but most importantly-him.
She tried to move her leg underneath the blanket but quickly cringed. The cast on her foot had been troublesome, restricting her movement in more ways than one. There had been times when she forgot about her foot and the quickness of her motion sent a sharp bolt of agony through her leg. When he was around, he'd pamper her and be at her service and often neglected himself despite the exhaustion that plagued him after having traveled 5 days a week, ever since her injury, much to her displease.
But at the same time, she'd yearn for him during his absence and long for her full recovery so she could in turn, care for him instead. She dreaded the coldness and loneliness that shrouded her when he was gone, often times unbearable, at that. All the days she couldn't calm her restlessness and barricade the utter silence that filled their house when she was alone. At times when the temperature was remorselessly cold and raked at her tiny body and when the nights were exceptionally dark and she would wish he was there to hold and envelope her in his arms and warmth, her fear then would just fade away because he was the only one she found solace in. But for now, she could only cherish every single opportunity she had with him.
She swiftly brushed off her thoughts. None of those mattered now because he was home.
The woman gingerly turned to her right on the bed to face the man who held her and eyes instantly beamed. She gazed upon his beautiful sleeping face, scrutinizing his every feature, memorizing every aspect of him. His light snores rang, echoing through the silent room.
Brown orbs still fixed on him, she reminisced 6 years ago, when she first met him. Their first meeting was brief and he barely registered in her mind. He then achieved success and they both went on with their respective careers, in the same field. It was until 2 years later, fate brought them together…until now.
Inhaling a sharp breath, her smile grew brighter as she reached out and stroked his long, wavy brown mane gently, tucking strands of it behind his ear and careful enough not to startle him as he was tired, after all. Reciting how much longer his hair was and how blond it had been, she then traced a delicate finger across his brow and along his long sideburn. He was still the same man she fell in love with when she was 25, four years ago…the man who loved her for what she was and not by his own mere perception of her and what he wanted her to be. The side of his head sunk deeper into his pillow as he snuggled further into the comfort.
"Melina…"
She froze upon hearing him moan her name, wondering if she had woken him. A smile returned to her lips when she realized he was merely mumbling in his sleep, possibly dreaming of her. She hoped he was. Her heart warmed when he smiled slightly in his sleep, stirred and moaned her name once more before relaxing.
An amused grin pulled at her lips as all of his 'names' channeled at speed through her mind. She held back a giggle. To some he was the 'Shaman'; to others he was the 'Guru'. But ultimately, he was known as 'the man of many names'.
Noticing the skies turning a shade of pale blue out of the corner of her eye, she leaned over and pressed her lips softly against his and felt his arm around her tightening. She settled back onto her comfy headrest, releasing another sigh.
It didn't really matter what others called or addressed him by. None of that meant anything because to her, he would always simply be Johnny-her Johnny.
Melina Perez stole another quick glance at John Hennigan before shutting her eyes, the pain forgotten and replaced with pleasant thoughts of him. Cuddling further into him, she clasped his hand in hers.
'Goodnight Johnny.'