Castle On A Cloud 

By: Eden

The warm April light is beginning to fade as I pull my car off the road and travel the short and bumpy path to where I’m to meet him. I know in my heart I shouldn’t be here. It’s wrong, dangerous. What’s going on between us can only end badly. Yet I can’t stay away from him. Resistance is futile.

I park my car beside his, and kill the engine. I don’t get out straight away; instead I sit for a moment to gather my thoughts. I have to end this now, tonight. It’s the only right thing to do. My heart is telling me I’m insane for even considering it, but my gut keeps on warning me of how many people we would hurt if this were ever made public. Finally, I open the door and step out of the car.

A quick scan of the surrounding area doesn’t reveal his whereabouts. I take a few tentative steps away from the cars, wrapping my jacket around me a little tighter to combat the rapidly cooling night air. Then, I see him, sitting quietly watching the sun set, his profile showing deep concentration and thought. ‘God, he’s so beautiful.’ I think, before mentally chastising myself for it. I can’t think like that anymore, I just have to end this and get it over with. Whether I want to or not.

As I stand there watching him, my mind wanders back to the very first time we met here like this, almost 6 months ago now. I remember the events that lead to the meeting; the secret kisses and stolen moments we’d shared at school and after hours. I also remember how nervous I was that first night, as we lay together watching the stars, talking. Nervous, because of what was happening between us, but scared also of what was happening to me. That night, I became a different person because of him and the way he loved me. And I’ve never been the same since.

I approach him silently, but he senses my presence and turns to look at me. The look of deep concentration on his face gives way to a small smile.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to come.” He says quietly to me, his voice travelling in the wide expanse of desert that surrounds us. “I was worried you hadn’t gotten my note.

“No, I got it. I just had trouble getting away.” I answer, coming to sit beside him.

There is silence between us for several minutes, a thing that is usually a comfort to me. But tonight it is anything but that.

“I missed you this morning.” He finally says.

“I know, sorry about that. I had to be home before mom noticed me gone, and I didn’t want to wake you.” I apologize. I know the excuse sounds a little convenient, but I can hardly tell him my real reason for going so early. Memories of this morning come flooding back; the way the first rays of sunlight had filtered through the window to rest on his beautiful sleeping face; myself, laying there watching him, realizing just how painful tonight’s meeting would be. I’d had to leave, for I knew that if I’d had to talk to him then, even just to exchange morning pleasantries, I wouldn’t have been able to do this tonight. And I have to do this.

He smiles at me and moves closer. “I doubt I would have minded.” He says seductively, wrapping his arm around me and moving his face close to mine for a kiss.

For a moment I succumb to his advances, allowing myself to be swept up in the moment. His kisses are, as always, heated and frantic, yet loving and gentle at the same time. He parts my closed lips with his tongue, and it is this sensation that brings me back to reality. I pull away quickly, startling him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks me, concerned.

“We have to talk.” I tell him, a serious tone in my voice.

“About what.” He asks nervously, running his hand down my arm.

“About this, about us.” I look into his face, so innocent and inviting to me, totally unprepared for the blow I am about to deal him. “We can’t do this anymore. We have to end it.”

Shock. That’s the first emotion I see in his eyes. That initial reaction is quickly followed by hurt and, mostly, confusion.

I say nothing, but wait instead for his reaction. I don’t have to wait long.

“What do you mean, we have to end this? Since when?” he asks, his voice a mixture of confusion and hurt.

“Since forever.” I tell him, trying hard not to give into the urge to cry. “This never should have happened in the first place, we were fools to think we could be together.” Despite my best attempts, the tears in my eyes spill over. “Can’t you see that all we’re doing is hurting the people we care about?”

I begin to cry in earnest, and I feel him reach out to comfort me. “Don’t!” I exclaim, shaking off his hand. I know if I let him touch me, I’ll crumble. I’ll break down and throw myself in his arms. But I can’t do that; I have to stand my ground.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” he tells me calmly. “How is this wrong? Who are we hurting? No one else knows about this, about us.”

“That’s the point! We’re lying to our best friends. When they find out about us, they’re going to hate us. I can think of a certain blonde who hates me already.” My crying has intensified to the point of sobbing, and I start to shiver slightly in the cold night air. This is proving to be harder than I expected. Much harder.

He sighs, exasperated. “You’re wrong about her, and about all of this. I don’t see why you’re so worked up, if anything they’d be happy for us.”

“You don’t understand – “

“No, I do understand, it’s you who doesn’t.” He yells in reply. I open my mouth to speak again but he places his fingers against it in a gesture of silence. “I don’t care what the others think. I live my life, they don’t.”

He moves his hand from my lips to cradle the side of my face and I feel my resolve begin to crumble, just as I predicted. He locks his intense brown eyes onto mine.

“You are probably the most important person in my life, and I am not about to give you up because you’re afraid of how our friends may or may not react.” The look in his eyes changes to pre adoration and I look away. “No, don’t look away. I have to tell you something still.” He tries to turn my face back to his but I resist him. I can’t take another moment of his intense eyes; it’s just too hard.

“No, please, don’t. Just let me go.” I jump up quickly and head in the direction of where I had parked my car less than 30 minutes earlier. God, it seems like an eternity has passed, not just half an hour.

His footsteps quickly follow mine. “Wait, please! We’re not finished here yet!” he pleas, trying in vain to slow me down. I reach my car and fumble about in the dark for my keys.

“No, it’s over.” I tell him forcefully as I locate my keys, and try to get them into the lock. I realize how badly I’m trembling.

“It’s not over. It can’t be, I – “

“Wait!” I cry, turning briefly to face him. “Don’t finish that sentence, you’ll just live to regret it.” The lock on the car finally gives way and I open the door. He closes it again.

“No. I won’t.”

“Yes, you will.” I try to get in the car but he blocks me again. “Michael, please, don’t. Just let me go.” I almost beg him. He turns me to face him, and I am too weak to protest.

“I won’t.” He replies. “I have to say this Isabel.” Once again his eyes lock with mine. “I love you.”

That’s all it takes for me to come undone. My tears turn into sobbing once again and I throw my arms around him tightly. Our lips meet with a renewed passion and fire, the electricity between us causing my knees to go weak. I lean back against the car in an attempt to regain my balance, and he follows suit, our lips never breaking from their embrace.

Our mouths open, and I feel the familiar sensations of his tongue exploring my mouth. My breath catches in my throat and I sigh softly. All thoughts of ending our relationship leave my head. All I can think of is him; all I can feel is him. This is the place I want to be right now. The place I never want to leave.

His frenzied kisses make their way down the side of my face, and settle just below my ear. I lace my fingers through his hair, breathing in the familiar scents that he radiates. He teases my neck with his tongue, darting up every now and again to my earlobe, causing me to sigh and moan and grip his hair even harder. This sweet, excruciating torture causes my knees to buckle, and I slide down the side of the car to the desert floor below, banging my head on the car in the process. I don’t feel the pain, I don’t care, but Michael notices. No words are spoken as he stands up and offers me his hand.

I follow him as he walks around to the back to the Jeep. He reaches into the back and retrieves the blanket kept there. Hands still intertwined, we head back in the direction we came from. Back to our place, hidden among the lows and highs of the New Mexico desert. The little voice inside my head that had earlier told me I should run from this man is now silences, the only voice I hear is my heart telling me to hold onto him and never let go. I trust my heart.

Together, we spread the blanket out on the ground and sit. Several minutes pass without movement, as we sit quietly watching each other. Finally, I take the initiative and kiss him. Unlike the frenzied embrace by the car, these kisses are slower, sweeter. As if we both feel the need to revel in each one. For the first time in our relationship, we take our time in discarding clothes. For some reason, I’m incredibly nervous, but I don’t know why. It’s not like we’ve never done this, because we most certainly have. But it’s not usually like this.

Despite the night air, I don’t feel the cold at all. All I can feel is Michael, all around me, inside me; he is all I’m seeing, breathing, loving. As he slips inside me, I feel the connection between us heighten. A rush of images passes by my eyes, but they aren’t my memories. They’re Michael’s. I see him wandering through the desert at night as a child, small and alone, incredibly scared and lonely. I see him arriving at the first of several foster homes, and I feel the reluctant realization he made on that day that he would never have a ‘normal’ life or family. I see Max and I in the schoolyard, on the day we first met Michael. And for the first time in my life, I see how he saw me then, how he still sees me. As the one person in his life he loves.

Michael tenderly strokes my face and the connection breaks. I open my eyes and look at him; this wonderful, beautiful man who, for some reason or another, loves me like no one else does. I feel myself teetering close to the proverbial edge, and I dig my fingers into the flesh of his shoulders. My eyes begin to flutter closed, but Michael stops me.

“Isabel, look at me.” He says. I open my eyes again to find him staring right into them. The intense emotion I see there is incredible, it hits me almost like a bolt of lightning. “I meant what I said before. I love you.” Those three words, combined with the love I see in his eyes, are enough to send me over the edge. Something inside me bursts and I call his name loudly, listing to it echo over the empty desert plains. I hear him coming too, right behind me, whimpering sweet nothings into my ear.

We lay still for a few moments, catching our breath. He runs his hands across my cheek, removing a stray piece of hair that is stuck there. “I love you too.” I finally tell him. His only reply is to kiss me.

And for that moment, the rest of the world doesn’t matter. I know that tomorrow we’ll have to face our friends and tell them about us, possibly even have to deal with their anger and rejection of the notion. But I know that we’ll make it through. Because I love him, and I know now that he loves me. And no matter what, we’ll always have this place. Our own little castle on a cloud.

The End