All That's Left
(A response to the prompt "dancing." Post-war story.)
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You close your eyes because it's easier to see that way.
It's like a fever dream. It pulls you in and drains you… takes you away and leaves you wanting, wishing, needing. It's all you have anymore.
But when it comes, it's like the thump of hand on chest as CPR is administered. It's like sweet rescue.
A smile spreads slowly on your face as you picture him… across a crowded room… all the other people around you fade into the background until the only thing you see is him. Him and that dazzling smile of his.
He's dancing with his wife and he looks happy, he looks content, but you know better. You approach him slowly… you seem to be gliding along, you're moving as if being pulled into his orbit… as if there's no other choice. He's been looking at his wife as they dance but now his eyes look up… he's searching… he knows you're near.
Finally his eyes find you, they're drawn to you, and as they settle on you, he doesn't just smile… he glows. You feel shy, somehow… coy… you feel lightheaded under his gaze. He gently steps away from his wife, who looks confused but perhaps resigned. You step toward him and he toward you… and now there's not a soul around anymore, or if there is, you're completely unaware.
You close in on each other, your breath picking up, your heart beginning to pound. When you finally reach him, you move into his arms as if it's where you've belonged your whole life.
And it is.
The two of you begin to sway to the music, your head against his, your hand in his, your bodies brushing. You dance and you dance and you dance, but it feels more like a trance. You're back in his arms, and it's just as intoxicating as it always was.
You remember his hands on you… his mouth… his growls of passion… his taste. You remember long, cold nights in Korea spent coiled around him, taking his warmth. You remember that he saved you more times than you could count. He was your true north, you would've been hopelessly lost if not for him.
He was your light during the worst darkness of your life.
He's still your light.
And you dance.
You close your eyes and inhale his scent and you don't need to say anything because he already knows. He always has.
He's strong and solid in your arms and his hand caresses your back and your heart flutters at his touch.
"I always knew it would be this way," he says, his voice soft at your ear. "I always knew this was how it would end up."
You murmur a yes, because yes, it is supposed to be like this… yes, it was destined... Hawk and Beej. Together.
And he spins you around, his eyes blazing and his smile growing as the music gets louder. You lose yourself to the moment… it's a drunkenness without drink... a floating, a high.
But the high doesn't last. Slowly you realize something's wrong. As you spin, he begins to fade away, as all the others around you had. You feel something like panic rising inside you. He fades but you try to cling to him, you grasp, you pull and beg him to stay.
It does no good. Like a vapor, he's gone. He's dissipated… vanished… and yet you still spin.
When you come to a stop, reality sets in. Empty arms, empty heart. You have nothing.
All that's left are the dreams.