It was another one of those days, thought Steven, as he sat at the kitchen table absentmindedly scrubbing the barrel of a pistol. The two others he’d already cleaned sat to his right, a light shine to the dark metal. He was hopeful the glow from the light over the stove kept him from waking anyone up as he continued into the night. Without looking at the clock, he assumed it was around three in the morning. He considered for a moment, how clear everything had felt a few months ago. It seemed, at least to him, that everything was simpler when you had a mission. It was easier to live with a mission at hand, and realized that was why his life before the Incident had felt so dull. Once you’ve felt helpless enough to realize you had to be your own hero. That was the moment you understood that every decision carries life and death within it. Treating safety as the illusion--and danger as the norm--felt more enlightening than it should have. It always made him wonder now, if the trauma of watching his father bleed to death on a sidewalk in Chicago had made him crazy enough to need this feeling of preparedness. The understanding that he needed to have more skill in violence than anyone who could confront him, that is the thought he questioned, as it continued to bring him peace. In a sense, if sitting up cleaning guns in the middle of the night could be called peace.
“You’ve turned this into a ritual,” she said after taking a sip of water. “It’s more than a habit for you, this means something more than I can comprehend. I get that.”
“I had a dream,” he said, not looking at her. “A nightmare, really. I met death, only he was wearing my dad’s face. He told me that I’m in more danger now, than I was the day of the Incident.” The pistol was assembled and polished now, its open body gleaming in the darkness. Steven knew now that he must be crazy, not only to be having such vivid dreams of impossible things, but the fact that he just blurted it to Grace as though it was something a normal person could dream. Right, he thought, define normal. He took a deep breath as his chin began to quiver. His tremble threatened to wash away his empty stare, and he put his face in his hands. He knew it was okay to show his weakness here, in the quiet kitchen across from his beloved. But, knowing it didn’t help him to open that grief, not yet anyway. “This isn’t the first time you’ve had it,” she said, still quiet, “I’ve heard you talking to him in your sleep.” He looked, but she was moving again, this time she went to one of the cabinets and rooted around in it for a bit. She came back with a chocolate bar. She tossed it down in front of him and leaned in, placing warm lips on his cold neck. He felt the tingle of her kiss as it traveled down his spine as a pleasurable tickle. She sat back down, opened a chocolate of her own, breaking off a piece to chew. She motioned at the bar while he looked at it in blank shock. “You can’t keep this up forever,” she said, a seductive tone to her voice as she popped another piece of chocolate into her own mouth. “Trust me, babe. It’ll help.” Steven fumbled at the wrapper for a moment, his thoughts still racing for understanding along a fogged path through distant forests. As he placed a piece of chocolate in his mouth and let it begin to melt on his tongue, it did bring a bit of a smile to his face. Here she was, not even a day after asking someone else to talk to him about his obsession, taking care of it herself. He recognized meaning in her name, as he could never have earned or deserved everything she was and meant to him. “I know how stressed out you are,” said Grace, “but you can cut back, and stop over-thinking everything by yourself. You’re not alone anymore.” “But that’s the worst thing about it.” Steven said, almost abandoning the chocolate in front of him. “I finally have what I wanted all my life. Family and friends, that’s something I’ve craved ever since I got sent to Blue Rock. Now, I have it. I finally have something worth losing again, and I can’t go through that again.” “Honey—” “I can’t. I’m not strong enough to lose it all again; and so, I’m hoping that by being so ready, I never will lose it.” He was taken back as she crossed her arms, leaned back in her chair and breathed so deeply, he thought she’d forgotten how. “Then don’t,” she said, carefully measuring her tone. “Don’t lose us. But don’t you dare lose yourself while you’re at it. Of all people, you know that there is no limit to how dangerous or how bad things can get. You’ve already over-prepared. It’s time for you to get back to me, to your life, and go with the flow. “Otherwise,” she pointed to the engagement ring on her finger, “what’s the point in marrying me, if you’re going to seclude yourself from the relationship?” “You make it sound so easy,” said Steven, “i don’t know how to stop myself from thinking, though.” She picked up her half-eaten chocolate again, waved it, “You can start by finishing your chocolate.” “And then?” he said as he broke his chocolate bar into more manageable pieces and began shoving them in his mouth. He swallowed the last one before he noticed the mischievous grin that had crossed her face, as she glanced around the kitchen. She stood and moved over, bending enough to shove her lips onto his. She waited until he started breathing again to break the connection. His eyes still closed, he used his fingers to trace her lips, then stood, embraced her and kissed her again. “I wonder,” he said as they stood there, listening to the sounds of one another’s breaths, “if you’ve always known what to say to me.” “Nope. You made me mad enough to say what’s been on my mind a while.” “Well, then…” he said, a grin on his face as he turned to the pistols, “somebody’s gotten bold.” He felt a slap on his backside, and continued collecting the weapons as he watched her saunter back to the stairs. She turned and stuck her tongue out at him. “Now, hurry up. I’m sleepy.” Steven laughed to himself as he placed one of the pistols in a hiding spot in one of the utensil drawers.
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AuthorLawrence Henry is an aspiring author with more caffeine than time. BTW, here's some of my thoughts on a few varied subjects. Archives
July 2023
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