No.

Hell no.

Yeah, I know damned well what she's waiting for. I can see the look on her face. Her lips pursed, her eyebrows slightly raised, her head cocked so that even though she's a good six inches shorter, she seems like she's looking down at me. Her arms fold across her chest and she just stands there waiting. Well, I sure as hell ain't about to give her the satisfaction.

She wants…no, she's demanding an apology. She don't say so but that look sure does. That look says, "I'll consider forgiving you for being an idiot but you'll have to beg for it."

Too bad. I didn't do anything wrong and I sure as hell ain't going to apologize for it. So I stomp off and fling myself into the saddle like I used to do back in the days when the Pony Express was still running and let the horse carry me wherever it feels like.

So that's how I end up here, in this stupid meadow. It never felt stupid before now. Of course, before now I was always here with her. It's a stupid place to be alone. But it's a beautiful place to be in love.

I don't want to be here. I really don't. I can think of a thousand places to be besides here. Of course every one of them is filled to overflowing with memories of her. So I lean against a tree because just sitting on the horse makes me feel like an idiot.

Memories overtake me. Her eyes dancing with laughter, her hand in mine, her hushed whispers. The way she has of making every word from her lips sound sacred.

I'm surrounded by thousands of flowers but there's one that seems on its own and maybe lonely. I can relate. It's a buttery yellow…her favorite color. The petals are soft under my fingers like her skin, her hair, her breath on my neck.

It doesn't matter. I still ain't apologizing.

I bring the flower to my nose. Damn if it don't smell like her. The smell wraps around me like her body, caresses me like her hands.

I can feel her against me. I can taste her. My whole body is alive with what she gives me, what we share.

A breeze moves across the tall grasses and flowers of the meadow. In my mind's eye I see her bosom, rising and falling, her body moving under mine…and sometimes over mine.

My pride is a bitter thing to swallow but I choke it down all the same. I know what I have to do. It comes as no shock to me that I am ready to cave in. It won't to her either.

A twig snaps behind me and I freeze.

"I knew I'd find you here," she says softly. Her voice becomes the breeze that carries it to my ears.

I turn to her and open my mouth to say I'm sorry. She shakes her head.

"We were both wrong," she nearly whispers. "And a little right too."

The corners of my mouth turn up as she comes closer to me. She reaches behind her head and pulls free the pins holding her hair up as she nears me. Her hair cascading over her shoulders softens her features and creates a buzzing tension in my body.

"We could apologize and talk about it," she says as if pondering something deeply. "We'd just come to the conclusion that we're both a little sorry and both a little not. Or we could skip right to making up."

There is a gleam in her eye. I know that gleam. That gleam speaks of mischief and playfulness. That gleam is one of my favorite things in the world. That gleam rights everything that ever gets off-kilter. That gleam makes my heart beat so hard it's all I can hear and makes the breath freeze in my chest.

I step toward her to finish closing the gap between us. My lips ache for hers and I oblige them. She sighs against me and pulls me down to the ground.

Our bodies tangle in an effort to become one as we are truly meant to be. I look into her deep and endless eyes as they cloud with lust. Her desire intoxicates me. I can't recall what made her angry. I am sure it was my fault. I don't care anymore. She obviously doesn't either.

In those eyes, I see my future. It should scare me, maybe. Instead I want to run headlong into that future. I want to embrace it and her forever. I will. I hear the words fall from my lips, swearing that forever to her.

Time may test us. Not every day will be happy. I will surely anger her again. She might even anger me. Though I don't know how she could.

As we love under the impossibly blue sky with the sun lending its warmth to the heat of our bodies, I vow to her and to myself to hold tight to this moment. To remember that this—this love—this is what is real and true and important.


Hey...So I was stuck on other things and this popped into my mind...or the beginning of it did and I just followed where it led. Do I even know who it is telling this story? No...not really. Do I know who the she is? Nope...I guess you can make it be anyone you want.

This is my first attempt at present tense...I hope it worked. I don't know...it felt foreign...I haven't written anything in present tense since I used something closer to a script format.

I almost dread to know but let me know what you think...god or bad...really...I don't mind honest criticism...I don't!-J