|Dreaming of Love
Author: Goldriver Wildheart PM
A short story about a woman desperate to be in love.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Tragedy - Words: 434 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 1 - Published: 01-23-10 - Status: Complete - id: 2767291
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Dreaming of Love
It was a quiet night when she felt the first tiny movements of life within her. Her lover's arms embraced her, his handsome face of gently eyes and shallow cheeks buried within her mass of loose, dark hair. It was a comforting experience, but none-the-less surreal. How had such a simple girl come to be loved by one so perfect, and how had his seed come to live within her. Truly, were these things for her to call her own?
In her ear she heard his voice, full with sweet words and loving phrases, his larger, warmer hands caressing their child through her tender flesh.
"I can feel him," Were her words.
His face was beside hers now, his legs wrapped around her further and the bedding pushed aside so that he might caress his unborn with his eyes as well.
"I don't understand, my love," The question was calmly worded, but the worry in his voice only exemplified his silent thoughts.
"Your son," She rested her hand atop his as to guide it along her swollen belly, "He's moving. I've felt it. Just now, as you were whispering in my ear."
She could felt his smile on his lips as he planted a gentle yet firm kiss upon her brow. His legs were unwrapping themselves, and she could feel him pulling her around so that she lay flat. He loosed the buttons that held together the silky folds of her nightgown, and when her flesh was exposed he placed his parted lips bare against where he had felt through flesh and cloth the evidence of his unborn's life.
With love and care she entwined her small hands in the masses of lightly colored hair that rested on her belly. A smile crept to her lips while she listened to his words, spoken from love and adoration, but with a sort of paternal love that could be replicated only from the eyes and mouth of another such as him.
When at last he was finished, and had returned to is previous position encompassing his love, there was nothing left for them to say. His words had been sweetly spoken already, and hers were inexpressible by the tongues of man. Their eyes, filled with only love, desire, and acceptance were the only audible spheres left in the world grown so calm and quiet and peaceful.
The following morning, when the rising lights split through the young woman's window and awoke her, she found her love had been only the hopes of her sleeping mind.