Note: This is a drabble of sorts, a one-shot (for now) that is unrelated to my other stories. It was however inspired by the short story "Break it Down" by Lydia Davis, an author I discovered while listening to the Podcast "This American Life." Both are great by the way. It's in Chris' POV and he is telling of Merri as well as his love for her. As usual, I don't own anything.
This love I have for her
Shooting awake from a very crazy dream, I feel her curled into me, laying on her side sound asleep. I let my gaze wander down her body, half exposed since the sheet has slipped down to her hip. Her form is encased in moonlight that is streaming in the open window. A cool breeze blows in and over us; I see goosebumps form on her naked skin. I itch to glide my fingers across her cheek, to feel the pulse point in her neck then continue down her arm, stopping briefly to clasp her hand before continuing to her sultry hip and finally turn to brush across her abdomen them rise up to cup her ample breasts. Finally I long to kiss those succulent lips of hers, yet I cannot bear to wake her. Suddenly she shifts even closer to me, now wrapping her right arm securely across my naked waist and throwing her leg over mine so they tangle together.
Feeling her skin on mine is electrifying. The first time we made love I wept tears of elicited joy. Being with my Sweet Merri is unlike anything I have ever experienced. Yes, I have been with my fair share of women; many folks would classify me as a womanizer or even a man whore. But that is long in my past. With all those women, it was just sex. And when I was with Savannah I thought I knew what making love was. However, I was wrong; Merri showed me what it means to really, truly make love. She is the first and last woman I will ever make love to. We are insatiable. I always need her just as she always needs me. Folks would expect that of me, yet they would be shocked to learn that she loves to jump me in the most risky of places, anytime, anywhere.
We are together all day every day. And it is still not enough. She looks at me, telling me all sorts of things with just her eyes, gives me little touches, and whispers things-some sweet, some downright naughty in my ears all day no matter if we are in the office doing paperwork, out to lunch, or even at a crime scene. One time we were interrogating a suspect and she leaned over the table just right. Man, I was so close taking her over that table with the suspect watching. The more she does these things the more the anticipation builds. It is guaranteed we know how our evening will end up. I don't even have to think about that final destination anymore either to get nearly undone. All it takes is that sexy glare of hers or a sly hand drawn slowly across my back or a few select remarks whispered in my ear to set my body on fire for her. Then, when the work day is finally over we race home, sometimes forgoing dinner altogether. We end up in a sweaty heap in our bed, tangled together basking in the afterglow for hours until the urge to use the bathroom is too much. Begrudgingly we drag ourselves from the bed, too weak to maneuver our bodies to the bathroom without using the furniture and walls for support. It happens every single time but it is so worth it.
It is more than just the chemicals between us though. I love her. I love Merri more than I have ever loved anyone. She is the blood cursing through my veins. She is the oxygen I breathe. I remember the exact moment I knew that I was in love with her. We were sitting in the coffee shop down the road from the office. We had just returned from a pre-dawn call out to a crime scene and were in dire need of food and caffeine. I can see her clearly in her favorite royal purple blouse, inhaling her third beignet and second cup of coffee. I got her hooked on the sinful pastries, especially the ones from this shop. Sleep is still prominent in her eyes as she looks up from her coffee and smiles at me. It is a radiant, loving smile that takes my breath away. In that moment I feel it in my heart along with my soul: I love her. I love Merri and I will never love anyone else as long as I live.
Last night I asked Merri to marry me. I have never been more nervous about anything in my entire life. I have had guns of all kinds pointed at me. I have stumbled upon live bombs. I have even had to deal with the likes of Baitfish. Yet this one question left me so nervous I was nearly puking up everything I'd eaten all week. We were laying on the hood of my truck at this secluded riverfront park after that horrendous case we just closed. The sky was ablaze with stars and the only sounds were the frogs and cicadas in the brush along with water. A full moon overhead casted a warm light over us. She took my hand in hers then leant over and kissed me deep, passionately, filled with all the re-assurance I needed. Having her there beside me made all the crap of the day fall away. I felt safe, loved, and at peace with Merri. I simply smiled and looked at her, really looked at her, not wanting to forget a minute of that moment when I realized that I could have that, with her, for the rest of my life; I wanted her for the rest of my life.
"I love you Merri." I told her with all the conviction I could muster.
"I love you too Chris, always." She replied softly squeezing my hand.
She smiled wider. She realized something too. I could feel it. And I swear there was a twinkle in her eyes.
"Merri, will you marry me?" I asked, holding my breath.
"Yes Christopher, of course I will marry you."
There is not one trace of hesitation or doubt to be found in her voice. I release the breath I was holding. She has made me the happiest man alive.
End
