I feel like I have been curled up inside this closet for years. My hips ache, and my stomach feels like it's going to crawl out of my body, but I'll be damned if I am going to let my death grip on this knife loosen.
It has been silent out there for awhile - days? I can't tell. Have I slept? There is no variation on the light in this fucking hole so every day seamlessly blends into each lonely and terrifying night. I should open the door, just a crack, and peek into the horror of decomposing flesh and potential death. Nope, I'm gonna skip it for just a little longer, I don't think I have the strength to fight anything or anyone off of me again. I'll wait for the death wish to wash over me before I get adventurous.
What's that sound - footsteps? They are slow and deliberate so it must be alive, but that doesn't make it any less frightening. Hopefully they will take what they need and be gone, there is nothing in this closet of interest to them unless they are hungry for flesh.
The boots stop outside the door, inches from the tip of my knife. I slowly move from sitting to crouching so I can leap or run, if needed. Please let me still have a drop of adrenaline left, I have a feeling I am going to need it.
Suddenly the door flings open and I have a gun pointed at my head. I freeze like a squirrel and hold my knife at arms length while covering my eyes with my forearm. Jesus that light is bright, come on eyes, let's adjust before our face gets eaten off.
"You ok?" the voice asks in a gruff tone. The gun is still cocked and pointed between my eyes.
"Define 'OK'," I snark back while squinting. I still can't quite make out what I'm looking at. I know it's a man, and I know it has a gun, so we are getting somewhere.
"Stand up, we aren't gonna hurt you," he says, "slowly."
I lean agains the wall for stability, my legs are like jello beneath my body. What I wouldn't give for a yoga class and a hot shower, but those days are long gone. If I could just have a hot meal and a solid night of sleep I would feel human, but that may never happen again. Ever.
I step out of the closet and look around - there is no "we." It's just him. As my eyes adjust further I can see he is handsome, rugged, and wearing a gun holster like my brother used to wear. A sheriff. My mind wants to feel comfort, but I can't allow it to. Things don't mean what they used to - guns and law enforcement are as reliable as strangers these days. I always think about what things would be like if Jimmy were still here watching out for me, but I can't go there now, I have a gun inches from my face.
We stare at each other for what seems like eternity, and finally he lowers his gun. With our eyes locked we size each other up like two statues frozen in time. I think his baby blues may be the first truly beautiful thing I have seen in a very long time. I find myself wanting to get lost in them, forget about all of this, and just float away. There is something intoxicating about this man, and I find myself relaxing a little too much.
He holsters his gun, but says nothing. My knife is at my side, firmly gripped, but with the point toward the floor. It's a stand off for no reason other than past experience - everything tells us both to keep our guard up, despite an intense pull to call it off.
It appears to be late afternoon, pre sunset beams of light dancing through the curtains and boarded up windows. Those eyes come to life each time the breeze moves the fabric a bit and allows the sunshine in to meet them. He must know what I am thinking as the tension in the lines above his cheeks relax a bit, and he takes a deep breath. I'm too tired to fight being transparent, and this man is affecting me in ways I couldn't imagine.
"Anyone else here?" he asks.
"No. They are all gone." I remember everything and my heart aches a bit. A tear escapes from my left eye and makes a trail through the dirt and dried blood on my cheeks. This melts his protective stance a bit and he starts to move toward me, then stops himself.
"Listen, we ALL lost everything. I just need to know that it's safe here."
"Is it safe anywhere?" I ask him as more tears spring free. I can feel the heaviness of it all flowing through me, I can barely breathe through the sadness.
Against his better judgement he moves toward me and pulls me close. If I had any energy or true will to live I would be afraid right now, but having him near me reminds me that there are little glimmers of good in the world. Well, for now. Who knows, in 5 minutes he may take everything I have left and push me into a pit of walkers for kicks.
I had no idea dirt and death and travel and tribulations could smell so good. If I could curl up in the area between his jaw and clavicle I would. His arms are around me and he hugs me like we have known each other for years. Squeezing me tightly, his pain entangled with mine, it seems like we could ride it out here. Forever. I know this isn't true but it feels good to entertain it for a brief moment.
I cry until there is nothing left, I am an empty shell. He can't ever let go of me. I can't be alone again, I just can't.
When his embrace loosens a bit I look up at those eyes and he has a kind smile on his face. I don't know him, he doesn't know me, it doesn't matter. Pain and suffering have paused for a moment of consolation slowly becoming something more. Much more.
In the blink of an eye we are kissing, his perfectly sculpted lips on mine, and I am unbuttoning his shirt. My hands cannot touch every inch of his body fast enough. From his face to his chest, down the trail of hair to his waist, where my hand lands on his belt, his gun. It is warm to the touch and I feel his body tense. Lips part and he looks at me intently from about an inch away.
"Take it off," I say, and watch him take two steps backward, slowly unbuckle and lay his belt on a nearby wingback chair. Our eyes never leave each other, and I take a long sip of his gorgeousness while he very slowly returns to me. He delicately begins undressing me with his calloused hands. He pulls my filthy tank over my head, unsnaps my bra and slowly and devours me with his eyes as it all drops to the floor. I watch him deliberately touch my breasts before he moves in and begins kissing me from my cheek to the base of my neck.
My jeans are loosening as he unbuttons them and slowly shimmies them down over my hips. I open my eyes to see those lips drop with him to his knees where he helps me step out of my boots and gently frees each foot from my pant legs.
I am standing completely naked in the fading sunlight looking down at one of the most stunning men in existence, and he is looking back up at me like he just won the lottery. Eyes sparkling, lips in a delicious smile, shoulders glistening with sweat and fear and pain and exhaustion.
I drop to my knees and kiss him hard, I want to taste all of him, feel him pressed against me while I taste his desire. I remove his boots and pants with the same care he gave me, while his gaze begins to change from admiration to desire. Full on his back, naked and wanting me, he takes my hand and pulls me on top of him. As soon as my chest hits his, all bets are off and we are a tangle of hands and lips and hair and want. My hands caress his face and chest while his hands run from my knees up my back and return to my breasts. Popping his head up like he's going to sit up, he bites one of my nipples with his teeth. The sensation sends shivers down my spine and when I relax and bring my knees up, he slips inside me. The feeling of connecting with him fully forces me to moan loudly and he grabs me by the back of my head and kisses me passionately. There is still danger, and he is protecting me, but all I can think about at this moment is how I never want the feeling of having this man inside me to end. In another place, another time, this would be a dangerous drug and I could see giving up my entire life to make love to this body constantly.
Every inch of flesh is covered in sweat and the months of pain and struggle blend together seamlessly as we frantically ravage each other. His teeth in my shoulder, my nails on his back, I can feel the rush beginning to over take me. We come together, loudly, then muffled by each others lips. Every inch of my skin is dancing, and he holds me to him so tightly I have no choice but to cling to him, to try to make this moment last for what may be the closest to forever I ever know.
He takes my face in his hands and looks into my eyes, then smiles and kisses me sweetly. With our bodies entangled, I close my eyes and take a deep breath before I look back into his eyes, hoping he is not a dream. The relief I feel when he begins tracing my ear with his tongue makes me smile, and for a brief moment I allow myself to drift away with him...