Listening to Road Noise: Assumptions

A little creative writing, a little reflection.

She lay in the circle of his arms, warm and well tousled. He kissed her shoulder and ran his finger a smooth line up and down her collar bone. She felt a smile boom across her lips. He proceeded to nibble his way towards her neck, and she felt something inside her clench. She wasn’t sure if it was the memory of what had just passed between then, or if it was the anticipation of the sating the hunger he was awakening again. But she liked it. She heaved a happy sigh, just as he laid a tender kiss just behind her ear.

“Promise me something.” his breath tickled her.

“What?” her own husky murmur answered his.

“That we will never assume anything about each other.” she furrowed her brow at that. It wasn’t what she was expecting. She turned slightly to catch his hazel eyes. He was serious, and anxious maybe. He wanted this of her. She nodded, and let him engulf her in a kiss so passionate she had no choice but to fall right into him all over again.

You see, what he wanted was for her, for either of them really, to never take for granted the weight of each other’s opinion. To never assume that every reaction would be the same. To never loose sight of the moment. Being young and idealistic, maybe because of the newness of them, never really coming into contact with the harsher sides of each other, not having been scared by each other the way long time lovers do, he understood that you can never really know what someone else is thinking. He also knew that this woman was his, only and utterly. He wanted her to always be with him, known to him. Or at least when I think back at that scene, and the conversation that happened after the love making. That is what it seems. That is what I hope it was. That is what they lost sight of.

Some time later, they stopped asking the questions that matter. Worse, they stopped wanting to answer. Why? I think they stopped wanting to be so open. They saw once or twice the fragility of what they had together, and instead of cherishing and protecting and making up of minds to always hold it in high regard, they thought to protect themselves from the end of it. Surely something so fragile must eventually fail right?

Or it could have been that they just got complacent, thinking that they knew all that there was to know, despite evidence to the contrary. Despite the fact that time and life and even each other had evolved them into people they didn’t start off being. Maybe feeling that some things should have been learned by now. Or depending on a level of comfortable familiarity to always lead to the right choices or responses. Is that even possible though?

What of those moments when assumptions breed calamity? Is it then worth the strain, bought on by the fear of the question mark? After all, isn’t the whole point of courting intimacy with another soul, to be seen and accepted completely?

He walks in, his shoulders slumped against his burden. She takes him in briefly then turns back to her own task. He didn’t want to talk about it, she was sure. She didn’t want the brushing off that she knew came with asking if he was OK. He would say he was, even though his crisis was evident in the sad line of his lips, the crease of his brow and the weary way he surveyed their space. She heard him strip, listened to the shower, the rustle of the towel, and felt the mattress dip as he settled himself in.

She read, and he twiddles with his phone. So it went til her mind wouldn’t let her anymore. She missed him, and he was right there beside her.

Setting her book on the stand beside their bed, she snatched the phone from his fingers and sent it the way of her book. He was fast, but she was faster, and she levered herself onto him, straddled him and captured his protest with her own lips. His body went rigid, as if he meant to protest, but he softened. Soon his tongue was eagerly exploring her, and his nimble fingers tangled in her hair, traced the lines of her body and rid her of the gossamer nightgown she had chosen to shield her body from him this night.

He settled her beneath him soon after, and claimed her enthusiastically. Until they both had only enough strength to sink sweaty skin to the cool sheets in a tangle of well worn limbs.

“Are you ok?” she asked, planting a reverent kiss to his lips. Holding her breath, hoping that the moment wouldn’t shatter when he refused her. Instead his arms tightened around her, and he nestled his face into the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply.

“No, today was…..”



7 thoughts on “Listening to Road Noise: Assumptions

  1. You’ve been sitting in our living room watching our end-of-the-day / dinner routine, haven’t you! SO true what you said. Post kids we are NOT the same people we were before and yet we assume we know each other so well. It’s tragic really… Wish I knew how to explain that to Drollery…

    Liked by 1 person

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