“I think I just met the happiest person in the world!” Jeremy claimed with a light on his eyes. He was walking quickly in his boyfriend Dexter’s direction, his muscular, long legs pushing him forward with each powerful step. His sweaty white shirt clung to his well-defined abs and turns the heads of almost everyone he walked past…but Jeremy was used to the prospect of having a heavily sought-after partner by now. Six months since they’d first laid eyes on each other and the spark still had yet to fade like those of his previous relationships. He had a feeling this might be his last, although bringing the idea of marriage up into conversation was a pretty terrifying concept…as was being rejected for taking things too far too fast.
“Oh, did you?” Dexter inquired, feeling an affectionate smile spread across his lightly stubbled cheeks. The sparkle in his eyes when they connected with Jeremy’s could likely blind, and the butterflies fluttering in his stomach at the thought of spending tonight together tickled him in a way that made giddy giggles bubble up into his throat.
“What are you laughing like that for?” Jeremey asked with an amused grin, but it was a rhetorical question. They were both used to each other’s odd, often silly behaviour out of the lightheartedness they felt when in the same room, sharing one space. Or even better, within touching range…although it usually was not even neat satisfactory enough unless they were taking turns pounding each other breathless.
Dexter refused to reply and instead wrapped Jeremey up in a warm hug as the gay bar’s DJ beats blasted thunderously around them, bass booming and rhythm bouncing off the walls and gyrating bodies of the hundred erotically dancing homosexual couples surrounding. The innocent embrace quickly turned into light pecks and then passionate kisses turned to mindless groping in the dark, unoccupied shadows.
At some point later on, after spending some time getting hot and sweaty on the dance floor and a damn ton of time making out wherever best suited them, Dexter led Jeremy outside after feeling a sudden boost of confidence. Taking his partner’s face in his hands, he whispered, “ I want to be yours forever” and to his pleasure, Jeremy’s expression was one of pure bliss. Leaning in, he gently kissed Dexter’s nose tip, then gazed directly into his eyes, whispering emotionally, “Me too”
That was the moment he knew what they had would last forever. The night Jeremey knew it was time to start searching for the perfect ring…for his perfect man.
The end ❤️
If I follow my heart like the storybooks’ show If I endulge in a love that makes my soul glow But is not an attraction I thought I would know Will it fade to fast, melting quickly like snow?
What I feel is lighting my life up like magic But if temporary then the fall will be tragic Body pulled to yours from a force that’s magnetic But is it just lust for desired aesthetic?
If I listen to the nagging buried in my head That keeps me awake at night, stressing in bed That tells me you’re simply too good to be real Then maybe in the long run much better I’ll feel
Because science is one way to keeping protected Away from the risks of getting romantically invested You make me feel things….but that comes with a danger Maybe It would be better to just marry a stranger
I could jump in and with a running start But that would mean putting at risk my own heart A moment’s desire could end brutal and fatal Sometimes I wish I was more mentally stable
You are my now But my future is dim Will you be there or are you a mere whim? I know you want more and I do want forever My anxiety lessens when we are together
It’s when I am lonely that the worries come out Scream into the darkness when shadowed with doubt Overwhelming my mind and harming what we’ve got You say live in the present but I simply cannot
Mark the choice for me Kiss me in the black If I say no pin me down on my back If I like it we’re good If I hate it it’s bye But I guess that I can never know until I try
The only place they could meet away from curious eyes and the noisy surrounding world was the graveyard. A rectangular lot, fairly small compared to most burial zones and shrouded in eerie darkness, a hovering foggy mist, most of the bodies discarded of there had died long ago enough to be almost completely void of familial visitation. While the vacated lot of moist turf and looming grey stones was in the middle of a decently populated town, after midnight there was no chance of being spotted within it, especially considering the oddly symmetrical yet perfectly placed wall of lush trees lining its picket fence’s exterior, protection from the wandering eye of those scuffling along the adjacent streets. Hunched figures, heads tucked into shaggy parkas and hands stuffed in pockets as they pass in unhidden haste, terrified. Scurrying inconspicuously by—desperate to repel some dreaded evil spirits’s attention, to avoid the sense of mysterious dread beckoning to them from within the twisted metal entrance gates, which gently swing and creak on their anciently rusted hinges.
There were rumours of ghosts causing unexplainable ripples in a peaceful night’s brisk air, or strange shadowed figures having been spotted crouching behind the cool stone slab marking some long-gone and likely forgotten soldiers’ final resting place.
Spencer’s heart, however, wasn’t racing due to fear of monsters waiting to pounce or otherworldly spirits seeking to possess an unsuspecting visitor’s soul. No, the erratic thundering and pounding against his ribcage was because he knew, at any moment, he would lay eyes on her. Alexis.
Creeping through the darkness with fear’s echoing theme song in his ears, Spencer found himself recalling in his mind each and every conversation he and Alexis had participated in over the past six months. Every night, without skipping even one, their texts travelled throught cyberspace for hour after hour, covering enough unique topics to span an entire country’s surface. The last half-year of his life had been better than all 17 of his previous years combined because of her, and he knew she felt the same, or she wouldn’t have agreed to meet him here in Texas, flying from her family home thousands of miles away in some aesthetic corner of France.
His entire camara roll was composed of picture after picture of her, some including her close friends or family. His soul set on fire at every chance to view from another angle those fiery blue eyes, quirky, constantly sarcastic half-lipped smile, and wavy hair that changed colour what seemed like every week. Today he already knew it would be magenta, because she’d chosen that dye due to it being his favourite shade on her so far.
Shoving his memories aside, Spencer tugged his black winter jacket tighter, feeling goosebumps prickle along the skin of his lean, muscular arm and legs, despite the downy fabric protecting him from the nipping autumn breeze’s direct touch. His hazelnut brown eyes scanned the stretch of scattered gravestones laid out before him as he winced as an especially sharp gust of wind caused his cheeks to flush bright red from the familiar stinging pain.
That’s when he saw it—or her, as he could only assume. The fague silhouette of a perfectly still human leaning casually up against a memorial wall celebrating the lives lost during World War Two. With the moon shrouded in a veil of dark clouds, it was nearly impossible to make out their face besides the unusually sharp upward curve of a nose and arms crossed, likely an automatic protective response out of nervousness. Spencer felt a smile spread across his face in pleasure at the fact that he knew she was afraid of the dark. Not because he experienced joy from knowing she was currently suffering from extreme discomfort for his sake, but because retaining information about her had become almost like an obsession to him. Or a drug….like weed or cocaine, every snippet of new information giving him a miniature high.
Speeding up into a stride, and then a full-on jog as the excitement bubbling within his chest threatened to overflow, turning into energy that instantly warmed his frozen-solid legs. “Alexis!” He called, cupping his numb hands around his mouth to amplify the sound.
She didn’t move, not even a muscle as far as he could tell. No shift of her body to face him or beckoned tilt of the head in his general direction—nothing at all to signify she was aware of his quick approach and loud shouts’ echoing throught the rapidly closing bridge of space between them.
Stumbling to a halt a mere couple of feet before her, he gripped his knees, hunched over as heavy breaths heaved into and gasped out of his overworked lungs. Brushing a curled, stray lock from his forehead and straightening himself upright, Spencer was more than a little perplexed to find she hadn’t even stirred an inch, hadn’t even shown an ounce of interest in his obvious presence.
Was she ok? Had he offended her unintentionally in some way? He hadn’t seen any angry or upset texts from her on the way here, not since their conversation spanning into the wee hours of last night, planning how these precious, limited hours would be spent.
“Alexis?” He inquired breathlessly. His once upbeat, exuberant tone now laced with anxiety and the beginnings of unfiltered dread. “That’s you, right?”
It was at this moment that the shield of clouds shrouding her shadowy silhouette posed stilly before him drifted aside, coaxed by a sudden heightening in the breeze’s ferocity. A beam of pure white moonlight penetrated the darkness, lighting up his mysterious companion’s features and causing Spencer to stagger backwards in terror.
His midnight lover this strange creature was undoubtedly not, nor human by appearance in any manner whatsoever. It’s face was a gnarled knot of warped flesh and rotted teeth sticking out in multiple crooked directions, breath reeking of something purtrid that reminded him of a cross between day-old, dried vomit and molding vegetables at the bottom of a compost bin. Yellow-rimmed, bloodshot eyes sunken into hollows and skin paler than a slice of Swiss cheese. Greasy, stringy hair framed a monsterous complexion, so unhuman it made something vile slide into the canal of Spencer’s throat and sting a little, burning like acid.
He never met Alexis.
