It was raining. I could see the drops flutter off the window of my car, some staying to stare at me, then drifting with other rain drops down the edge, and disappearing forever from my sight. Where could he be now?
My face crinkles at the sight of a tiny bug on the window, drowning helplessly through the hurricane of rain against it.
Where's Matthew now.
"I'm here, love.." Is all I can think of, the sound of his raspy, velvet voice... The shifting of the bed as he slithered in, next to me. His fingers drifting from my neck...down my spine...his hand clasping around my hip.
I'm here, I thought. Waiting for you, wanting you. Waiting, wanting, for nothing. You weren't coming.
I start the car, and turn on the radio. Classical music starts softly and the volume creeps up as my fingers slide the nob to the right.
Where's Matthew. The passenger door swings open and my heart flutters.
"I'm here, love," softly spoken by the lips that loved me yesterday.
Softly spoken by the same lips I had imagined caressing just this morning as I lay in an empty bed.
He's next to me, drenched in rain. I stare at his visage, carefully placing my hand on his cheek, wiping off the drops of despair, of my own, and his.
His hand slides up my thigh, and I hold my breath.
Debussy silently plays in the background, as I back out of the lot and drive home, with him.
I missed you. He knows.
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