Chapter 3
Brook sat at the window of his bedroom staring out at the night that stretched across the street. He smiled blissfully. All had been so wonderful tonight. After the movie she left in somewhat of a hurry. But he was not mad. He had read somewhere that when something magnificent walks into your life, it is ridiculous to be angry when it must leave. So he sat there, looking out at the dark blue sky who had already released all of its tears for this night. There were no more clouds. He turned and walked over to his bed and looked at his alarm clock. It was three o five in the morning, and his mother had not returned home yet. He smiled, glad that his mother was finally getting out of the rut that Gage had left her in. after a long yawn and a quick shower Brook found himself in his bed warm beneath the covers. He tried to reflect on his afternoon, but found it almost impossible to recall it all. His memories could not make out what he had been feeling. That enchantment was indescribably.
Sleep gripped him later in the night, but just before he faded away into the rest of the night, he heard a light tapping at his window. The rain had not ended after all
I stood outside in the dark in front of the light blue house with white shutters for the remainder of my time, even if it was a short time. But I was not really there for a specific reason. I simply wished to stand there, thinking about the person that dwelled within the house. I flew to the window discretely and looked in at Brook’s resting body upon the bed. Of course, the window was cracked. I was reminded of my first visit here as I pulled through the small space and landed quietly upon the carpet below my feet. I was not wearing my same clothes that I had worn to visit earlier this evening, but my favorite dress. I chose this dress over all else because it is what I thought someone of my circumstance should wear. It is plain and white, but long and mysterious. Yeah, perfect or someone like me.
I looked at Brook’s sleeping face and knelt down upon my knees before his bed. I could feel his warm, steady breath upon my neck as I faced him. It was comforting. I wanted to lay down beside him but had to hold back. So instead I rested my head upon the edge of his bed and stared into his sleeping face. I was lost in though of how beautiful he was. His soft face was supported by his strong masculine features, and his hair was tossed randomly atop his head. I smiled when I looked at his mouth and noticed a slight stream of drool accumulating on his pillow. He smelt nice, clean. His arms were strong and toned in the moonlight. I wanted to crawl in between his arms and sleep, but I have not slept in 16 years. I have only been frozen in time.
I sighed aloud and he stirred slightly. I knew he was in too deep of a sleep to awaken. I wanted to touch his face again and see what he had been dreaming of. But I was afraid that his dream would tempt me beyond all belief. I did not want to be tempted. So for a short time, I remained resting upon his floor, looking about his room. There were no posters as you would expect in an average teen age boys room. There were books. He had a stretched collection of books about his room. Almost like a private library.
Creative
Created on 4-14-08
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Story Rating G
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