A/N: Just something that came up to me a few days ago. Hope you guys like it and don't forget to share your thoughts!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. No money is being made through this story.
BEFORE MY EYES
I see darkness. Then I see daylight.
I see a bright room. The curtains remained open since last night, so the sun projects a bright light beam starting on the carpet floor, passing by the foot of the bed and ending right onto my face. Lucky me. Looking to the right, the alarm clock. 7:00 am. Waking up early in the morning as I love to. Looking to the left, an empty bed. Again. What a great day it will be.
I see falling water. It warms my bare skin; it damps my 'fro so the curls fall over my eyes. Soap, shampoo, towel, my feet over the soft rug. Inside the wardrobe, that hedious beige suit and the striped red tie. Hate it when I have to put them on. On that side of the mirror, the heir of a record store empire. On this side, a fucking burnout. My eyes look tired. Screw them. A cup of coffee will fix it. Black and strong.
I see the long straight road. Orange and yellow leafed trees rise up on the landscape, announcing the beginning of the autumn. The white painted houses get scarcer by the second as I get closer to Milwaukee, while weather shifts to a cloudy sky. As if it wasn't enough punishment coming here, I get stuck in traffic when heading downtown. The annoyed frowns from the drivers around me reveal they're as moody as I am.
I see 'the man'. They're all around the rectangular marble table discussing how the company could be more profitable. Bar graphs, flowcharts, numbers, numbers, numbers. They look enthusiastic, but it's just too damn boring for me. I see WB and he sees me too. His brows waggle as if telling me to pay attention and show some interest in the conversation, even if it's just feigned. Paper, pen, my right hand signing some contracts. Finally this is over and I can come back to Point Place.
I see greasy food. I wish it was Mrs. Forman's meat casserole, but it's not. It's freaking junk food. Burger, soda pop, fries. I know, I used to love this kind of crap, but I'm not a freaking teenager anymore like the ones hanging out around me. In fact, I don't even know why I didn't find myself a decent place to have lunch. Service here is still terrible, the kids are freaking noisy and Frank is crankier than ever. I should've ordered a take away after all.
I see smoke. Sweet smelling smoke. I see my three moronic friends sitting around in a circle while we talk about the most stupid shit ever. One of them eats a full hot dog in a single bite, choking pretty hard afterwards, but none of us helps him until a couple of minutes later. Can't deny that's freaking hilarious, but it doesn't feel that good anymore. Actually, it's kinda sad that four grownups are gathered at the back office of a record store in the middle of the afternoon to get baked. Maybe I'm getting too old for that. Damn it.
I see complaining costumers, people looking for Disco records, money missing from the register machine. I see the low gas sign on the car panel and a tiny scratch on its black painting. I see my key set and my apartment front door. Finally this hell of a day is over.
But then I see her. Sitting on the couch with one of those Cosmo Magazines she loves so much. A pair of white socks on her feet, bare legs and my favorite sweatshirt around her tiny body. On the coffee table, steam rises from the mug of tea she's been drinking. Can't believe she came back earlier. I was sure I would have to sleep a couple more nights alone.
I see her smiling at me, and, though I can't see it, I know the corners of my mouth are turning upwards too, maybe for the first time today. I realize no matter how crappy days are, this very moment – the second I land my eyes on her – always makes it up for them. And I want her to know it. I look into her blue and green eyes as I kneel down beside the couch. She wraps her arms and legs around me and pouts adoringly. A question, a gasp, an affirmative answer, a searing kiss.
I see her naked body. Every perfect inch of her olive skin. The sweat flooding out of our pores as she curses and moans and screams my name. I see her raven hair as her head rests on my chest afterwards, and the sparkle in her eyes as she looks up at her raised left hand, the diamond ring shining in the dark. I see her tired smile and her closing eyelids. And that's the last thing I see.
I see darkness. And I finally see peace.
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THE END
