Yin & Yang

"What are you, a vampire"

Adam P.O.V.

          I woke up to the taste of summer in my mouth and the pure and musty smell of rain on my sheets. It has been so long since I woke up next to her that I had almost forgotten what it felt like.

          But, I remember now. It feels like home.

          The morning sun streamed down from my window in fragmented rays, casting shadows on the arch of her back, but highlighting the curve of her shoulder. Bits of dust dance in the sunlight to an inaudible tune and the birds outside my window sing their usual melody. Her bare body is turned away from me and her dark, wavy locks splayed across the pillow, tickling my nose.

          I usually hated the incessant chirping from the birds and the unrelenting sunlight that woke me from sleep. But, rolling over in bed with the taste of Annette on my tongue, her scent on my sheets, and her warmth in my veins reminded me of how much I use to love the mornings.

          All this time of bitter resentment, passive-aggressive fights, and loneliness had been washed away with the rain. It didn’t matter to me anymore; none of it. Her ruining my brother’s wedding, her leaving without saying goodbye or letting me explain, her cruel words and teasing. None of it bothered me anymore because she came back and I love her. I am so madly in love with her that I think even if she murdered me I would still be writing her love poems from wherever I ended up at.

          Basically, I am whipped.

          The slow rise and fall of her freckled shoulder told me that Annette is sound asleep and frankly I was hoping she wouldn’t wake up anytime soon. Because waking up meant ruining this blissful peace of lying next to her and tainting it with reality. Honestly, I’m not sure what Annette is going to do or say when she wakes up.

          I don’t know if she will immediately regret finally spilling her guts to me. I don’t know if she will do the same thing she did the last time she slept in my bed; tell me that it meant nothing and to forget about it. She is a complete wild card and I am afraid she will ruin this moment and leave my heart in shambles. I don’t want her to wake.

          But, she is stubborn and possibly a mind reader, so with a sigh she turns over in the bed to lie on her belly. I hold my breath and still my body so as not to stir her further and I am luckily successful. From the new angle of her body, the sun shines down on her back and I catch sight of something I hadn’t noticed before.

          The dozens of pink and white knicks scattered across her back from god knows what. In the chaos of the last few weeks I had completely forgotten about the mysterious scars and their place of origin. Just looking at them made my stomach churn from the ideas of how they got there. Some were deeper than the others, like the long and jagged one across her hip, but they all must have been painful.

          Seeing them reminds me of how little I knew of Annette’s life in the last two years. And if the scars were of any indication, it must not have been a walk in the park.

          Before I could stop myself, I reach my hand over to a particularly puckered line on her upper back and run my index finger over it. The skin is soft and puffy, almost like it happened yesterday. I feel bile rise in my throat and an unexplainable sadness overcome me. I want these marks to vanish, I don’t want her to be reminded of whatever made them appear.

          I lean over the space between Annette and me and replace my finger with my lips; placing a tender and lengthy kiss across the scar. Like, somehow my kissing them would make the scar and all the pain that came with it go away. The only thing it did do though, is stir Annette out of her slumber.