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FIVE ✃ THE FOX AND THE GRAPE.
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2020.
𝕿he telephone above my bedside table barely signalled 4.30am.
My eyes were suffused with the gentle moonlight, which entered the room through the raised shutters, and I felt a rustle on my skin. Perhaps from the cold, or whatever other emotion was invading me.
The bed sags under the weight of a body pressing tightly next to mine, and as much as my brain is still chained in memories of the previous night, I can't help but smile.
Marylin was a vision even with her sleepy eyes and messy hair. I somehow try to squeeze my eyes shut, pretending to sleep further, but the curve of my lips betrays me, and Marylin was many things, and among them an expert observer.
It was no use pretending, but that placable silence, just our bodies joined like magnets and our breaths mingled, was more therapeutic than any words she had uttered. The moon, full and bright, cast a gentle glow on her skin. It was a night with very few stars, spotted around the black sky, an icy wind blew beneath the draughts.
"What are you doing awake, little girl?" my voice hoarse struggling with words, I rubbed my eyes as Marylin placed a blanket over our empty bodies. She was wearing my t-shirt, it fit her well, it was a sight for my eyesight, you could see her turgid nipples from the drop in temperature.
"I cannot sleep," she sank, her head into the pillow, a few wisps around her. Something kept me glued, it had been a busy few weeks, Marylin had just decided to give me her company. My hand ended up playing with some loose locks, I gently rolled her hair, Marylin grabbed my hand to join hers. It wasn't the first time she had granted me such delicate gestures.
Like a couple.
"Come here"
I pulled our hands apart, pushing her to lie on top of me, Marylin smiled slightly as she leaned against my chest. She could feel my heart beating wildly at her presence, "I'm here," she whispered softly.
