We finished gently at the same moment and French kissed for a time as we held each other. “That was wonderful, my dear…” he whispered as I relax my head into his muscular chest. I felt he knew I agreed because as he performed this utterance, I clutched his strong body a little closer to mine, almost in the hope we could become one again. As we departed the room with the grand piano to go to bed, a millionthoughts rushed through my head and as I looked around the room with an old iron candelabra and odd phantasmal black hangings about the bed frame, my thoughts turned to the implications of the act we’d just performed. Our bodies lay, still warm, between the crisp white sheets, I couldn’t help but wonder what it all meant: did Sylvester Spence Palvine love me? Did I love him? Is he capable of love? Am I capable of caring for him truly and passionately? I wonder if love is like how its written in books; so desperate and wanting and so perfect when achieved. Or was it as I had experienced; so desperate and wanting and so perfect when achieved but so boring once attained. I prayed it was the former and began to fall asleep in his arms.
I woke up with the delicate sunlight peeping in from between the harsh black drapes. His body shone as the pure rays danced upon it. He was mine and I was his and it would be this way forever. He awoke with a sudden heave of breath into his lungs and immediately looked own to see me resting against his form and running my left hand permissively over his chest, my eye bracing to the morning light. “Good morning, my dear. I see you stayed the night, did you sleep well?” “Indeed I did Sylvester” I replied “Did you enjoy last night?” he continued “Of course… it was perfect... it was the stuff of fiction…” I whispered, imagining I was in some sort of romantic novel “But… why the sudden formality? Do you regret what happened?” “No! Never, my dear! It was heaven… Your voice is how I imagined a nightingale to sound...” he trailed off “Look out of the window.” He said, changing the subject “what do you see? “I gazed out of the crystalline window pane and was shocked at the sight. Cherry blossoms. The Palvine Orchard was fully in bloom. And it was wonderful. I had been a part of the two most beautiful things I’d ever had in my life in one day. “Its what has kept me sane. My orchard. I always wished I could plant a blossom tree in the front… make the place a little more homely… but I cannot. If I’m seen…” he trailed off once more “the blossoms are beautiful” he said in a very ‘matter of fact’ sort of way. I nodded. “Oh God! I forgot! I have to find Rita!” I shouted in shock “No.” he stated in the same matter of fact tone. “That cannot help. She knows what she did and you bothering her will not do any good.” He finished “But I could clear your name! You could be free.” I said, perplexed “No.” he looked melancholy “I couldn’t. You have granted me more freedom in this night that I could’ve hoped for in a lifetime without you.”. I didn’t understand that.
How could such a young man not dream of freedom?