Adoration, like Light Catching in the Darkness
Karai rolled over, her arm draped lazily above her head and she peered at him from beneath it. Trailing her gaze along the toned lines of his shoulders, arms and upper body. With her free hand, she ran one finger in a loose circle along and down his forearm; noting it was still warm and slightly wet from his perspiration. When she reached his hand, he turned it over and held hers for a moment. Squeezing firmly before letting go.
He shifted and raised up on one elbow. Looming over her, he reached out to graze his thumb across her swollen bottom lip. She lowered her arm and stared up into his eyes.
He gazed down at her. Into her, seeing her the way only he could.
His expression content and calm, but his eyes twinkled with a mixture of satisfaction and a near-childlike delight. Happiness written in them that was closer to joy. The light in his eyes fed something deep within her.
It had become an absolute need, over time, as they met and whatever it was that was between them grew into something wild and untamable; something honest and real. Frightening and exhilarating. Pure and sacred.
And only hers. And only his.
Only them.
She needed it, yes. Needed to see that glimmer in his eyes; that happiness, and she was not ashamed of it. She'd grown to relish the anticipation of it.
These moments, so rare and dangerous, fleeting and always stolen away, when she could carefully plot and craft the circumstances which would eventually bring that gleam into his eyes. Some days it took little coaxing. Besides the world being against them, there was their individual demons to contend with: parental figures. And the general taboo of their love's mere existence. She coped the way she knew how, by acting out, and fleeing whenever she could. Escaping into the night or the day.
But Leonardo's demons ran deep and in the multitudes. And there was no easy way out for him. Not even to catch his breath for a moment. The maze his life existed within ran in circles and all of them led to the same cage. Time and again.
Karai did not mind the challenge. To bring him around was sometimes a chore, but not an unpleasant one. Some days, a few soft pecks was all it took before his focus was entirely on her; forgetting his family troubles, and instead, devouring her; searing her with his unique intensity; until; finally, he'd collapse into her arms, smiling. Spent. Happy. Other times, it was not so easy.
Tonight had been a challenge. Tonight had been a near disaster.
# # #
He'd come up the side of the building, scaling the crumbling brickwork in silence and stealth, but Karai had felt his presence coming upon her like a roiling storm. Electric and furious. In pain.
When she turned the rusted bolt and pulled the door open to their hiding spot, a mostly forgotten, unused storage room at the top of St. Augustine's, he stood there, glowering like a gargoyle. A cataract of boiling emotions.
"What's wrong?" she'd asked.
And though he stormed within their sanctuary, angrier than she'd seen him in a long time, she realized it couldn't be so bad. He'd arrived here, after all. He'd come in. She closed the door and pressed it with the heel of her hand.
"Leo?" she asked, circling him.
Turning his shell to her, he wouldn't look at her. She moved closer. Reached out to him.
"Leo?" she asked again, growing weary of his mood. Irritated that he wouldn't speak to her.
Suddenly, he lurched to one side and tore a stack of boxes from the wall. They clattered and tumbled between them as she jumped back; spilling candles, votive holders, and files of paper and other documents across the splintered floor. A glass vase popped as it cracked against the floor and then shattered.
A ringing silence bloomed. A cloud of dust rose up. The plume expanded and split before settling uneasily around the disturbed clutter.
They stood apart, Karai with her hand pressed against her mouth. She took a step towards him. Circumnavigating through the sliding paper and rolling nubs of candles long past use. Mute and forever dimmed of the light they once produced.
Leo's fists worked at his sides. His chest heaved. His head hung low. When her fingers touched his shoulder, he jumped.
"Don't."
She pulled back. Stung with fright. Bright and burning behind her eyes.
This was not like him. Something was terribly wrong. Why won't he look at me? And suddenly, horribly, Karai understood. Her legs turned to columns of water. Somehow she remained upright. She hugged herself and dug her nails into her sides.
This was it, then.
Of course it was. He'd been complaining of his father's pressure for the past few weeks. And if she really had paid attention, she would have long ago noticed that the tension in the air grew thicker each time Leo opened up to her. His shoulders pinched tighter. The frown at his brow deeper. The pain in his eyes sharper.
What a fool I've been.
It was only a matter of time before he caved to his master's wishes. What choice did he have? It became hard to breathe. The walls overstuffed with useless junk and forgotten religious relics seemed to press in on her.
She turned her face. An angel, eyes blank, face marred by a deep diagonal crack, stared at her with a baleful expression of anguish. If its sculpted expression was ever meant as comfort to those who knelt beneath it, Karai could only feel the chill of its mournful sorrow upon the scene.
She closed her eyes to blot out the statue's judgment. She bit her lip. Focused on the pain. Sharp and sweet and bitter as her heart hammered in her hollow chest.
Fool!
To believe that fate had finally given her something good, when she deserved nothing of the sort. A bitter sort of humor rose up in her and she fought the urge to laugh. No, she deserved nothing good in this world. And Leonardo was far more than simply good. He was . . . golden.
All she had done was tarnish the finish of his beautiful spirit. Making him disobey his father's wishes. Tempting him towards ill deeds – though never successfully, still she was guilty of it.
All good things come to an end. Wasn't this true? There was an ugly tainted flavor on the tip of her tongue, and she realized that she had bitten through the tender flesh of her bottom lip. She sucked in a breath. Steadying herself. Internally, she chastised herself. For being a selfish, fool.
If it was time to let him go, then that was what she would need to do. With grace. With honor. For the time she had gotten to spend with him, she should be grateful.
She sniffed and stared at him, standing stoic and lost in his thoughts. A pain erupted in her chest that made her inhale a hiss through her teeth. But she wasn't grateful. Couldn't find the strength to be. Not now. Selfish or not. Karai didn't care.
Because . . . It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. If she had all of eternity in his arms, it would never be enough time.
Heart in an unsteady staccato, she said in an almost steady voice, "There are quieter ways to say goodbye."
He started at the sound of her voice. Looked up and twisted. Face crushing into a frown, "What? Saying . . .?"
"Goodbye," she filled in, voice stronger now, a hint of anger lacing the solitary, singular, pointed word.
A confused light danced across his eyes and his brow furrowed more deeply. He shifted to stand before her, separated only by the debris of his outburst a moment ago. His expression changed as understanding dawned.
"I'm not," he started, but she put up a hand.
Surprising herself, she laughed. It was light and teasing, but ended with a sharp, pained sound. She covered her mouth for a second, eyes wide, before dropping her arm again to hug herself for support.
"Please, Leo. Spare me the theatrics." She waved her hand through the air. "We both know this was a limited-time engagement."
She crossed her arms, holding tight and swept her eyes away; suddenly feeling the momentary bravado flee; taking the warmth of her courage with it to leave her chilled. She trembled as he kicked the box from his path and took her arms into his hands.
"What are you talking about?"
She rolled her eyes, but it was ineffectual due to the tears brimming. "C'mon. You and I both know you can't keep this up. Disobeying your father. Lying to your family. What about your," her voice caught on the word, "honor?"
His eyes danced between hers. He eased back and she felt vindicated and empty.
It was true. It was true. He was saying goodbye.
She could have laid down and died if she wasn't held up by his grip on her arms. Why did this hurt so much?
"Karai," he breathed, not looking at her.
She felt her chin jitter and jump. Felt the lump expand in her throat. She bit savagely at her bottom lip. Her mouth flooded with copper and iron. Savoring the jolt of pain; centering herself upon it. Steeling herself for the final blow which was about to fall. She clenched her teeth; jutted out her jaw in willful defiance.
When he looked up at her again, the intensity of his gaze stole away her breath. Fury blazed in his storming eyes. For an instant, she thought he might become violent. Her throat worked. For the first time, she felt real fear in his arms.
"There is no dishonor," he said, voice powerful and earnest, "in me loving you."
Her knees gave out. They collapsed downwards together.
"Karai, are you . . . what . . .?"
The air squeezed from her lungs as she reeled with what he'd just said. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. Not him. Not her.
She shook her head and pushed weakly at him. "You," she started, but then fell silent, struggling to speak. Struggling to breathe.
Leonardo kept his gaze trained on her face; crouching inches away. His face a mask of concern.
"You're wrong," she finally managed to grind the words out. "You're wrong," she repeated. Insisted.
Leo's face fell. He sat back. He released her arms. With a gentle stroke, he ran his fingertips along the side of her cheek, tipping up her chin so that she had to look up into his eyes.
"No, Karai. I'm not wrong." She shook her head, but he held it; gently, but firmly. "I know your heart. And it's good. It's always been good."
Now the tears welled and spilled and she hated herself more than ever before. Her breath came in a broken gasp somewhere between a hiccup and a sob.
"And I don't care if you," he went on, eyes bright and deep, a half-smile arose across his mouth, "or the entire world doesn't agree or approve." He paused, letting that sink in. "I know what I want."
He searched her face. "My heart knows, Karai. And it's only you. It will only ever be you."
Unable to hear any more, unable to bear the weight of his profession, of his devotion, of his unconditional love – a love she couldn't possibly deserve - she cried out and wrested free from his grasp. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Pulled him close.
She kissed him with everything she had and more. Trying to spill whatever goodness he saw within her back into him; to give him what he saw in her; to prove him right.
To prove the world wrong.