They slip off when no one watches. She lets him lead her by the hand. The scenery seems to glide by as they walk.
He will be leaving to fight soon, in a few days. His return is uncertain and the outcome unclear. But they will put that aside for now. Right now they will just have faith.
And fall into the moment.
She studies his backside. Dark chocolate hair. White linen shirt on tanned skin. Slender shoulders giving way to broadness. Hadn't she noticed when he began to change?
She is fifteen. He is nearly sixteen. Somehow they are ready.
His hands shake when he goes to open the door. It seems like an eternity before it is ajar. She follows him into the room. They do not look at each other for awhile, but stare at the futon in front of them instead. It is white and has four rounded corners. It seems so foreign somehow.
Her fingers tremble when she reaches for his hand again. It is clammy and warm. He takes the first step towards the futon. She hesitates before following again.
It is hard to say how things came to be. After all, it was not planned.
He looks into her eyes, asking her one last time without using words. Is she sure? She nods her head slowly, but with conviction. They fumble over buttons and zippers; their fingers are clumsy with inexperience.
An overload of sensory floods their bodies. Their hearts pumps so loudly, threatening to leap out of their chests. Every single pulse is racing and throbbing. The colors around them start to blend, the world starts to spin, and they realize they must not be getting enough air. They stop what they are doing and put their heads together, their foreheads touching. They wait for their erratic breathing to level out a little.
Then they proceed again, continuing to peel off each layer of clothing, and finally removing the last barrier between their aching bodies.
When his hands touch the side of her breasts, she freezes. He is also stunned momentarily by her reaction, before whispering between shallow breaths, "Anna? Stop?" She shakes her head, and fervidly kisses the side of his neck, urging him to continue.
Her hair smells different to him, spicy and sweet at the same time. He is surprised, having thought he had memorized everything about her. But then he remembers who they are. He is Yoh and she is Anna. Her façade is cast aside and his head has come down from the clouds. He gives her a relaxed smile, the one that she has come to know so well. She grins back. Suddenly their hands steady and their breathing become natural as their nervousness subsides. Dark irises meet one another and the sounds of the world fade away. A sort of quietness sinks in, like being submerged in deep water. Just him. Just her. No one else.
Her kisses are firm and passionate, fueling desires that had lay dormant inside of his adolescent body. They devour each other with an appetite that is insatiable. Their thirst to be together is unquenchable.
He steps out of being a boy. She steps out of being a girl. Together they are man and woman.
They'll accept whatever consequences that will come afterwards. But for now, they'll drift with the moment.
August 19, 2005---I had imagined it differently than what I wrote. But this will do for now.