[2009 – September]
Waking up with a start, my heart beat a bit irregularly even though I couldn't recall the scenes from my sudden nightmare.
It was still the middle of the night, and the soft moonlight threw a few faint shadows in the otherwise dark room.
Taking a few deep breaths, I looked down at the warm bundle in my arms, Jean laying curled up next to me, her breathing even and peaceful. She only wore a shirt of mine and I could feel her warmth and soft curves through the thin fabric.
Silently slipping out from under the covers, I knew that I wouldn't be able to fall asleep again, seeing as this was the third time I had woken up tonight.
Looking down at my fiery fairy, I made sure that Jean was tucked in safely before I grabbed a pair of blue Jeans, a black hoodie, and a pair of socks while leaving the bedroom.
Getting dressed quickly, I put on my coat and slipped on a pair of black sneakers, invoking a barrier the next moment as I vanished from the room.
Inhaling the cold night air, I reappeared at a cemetery in New York City the next moment. Walking in a particular direction, it didn't take me long to arrive before a rather special tombstone.
The engraving was simple and short, it read: In loving memory of Ben Parker, 1958 – 2009.
Sighing inaudibly, I sat down on the cold and damp grass, my emotions somewhat disorderly.
I was a rational person and I had not saved Ben Parker after careful consideration. Still, I wasn't heartless and even though I understood that his death was not my fault, I couldn't help the trace of guilt that had appeared in my heart, weighing on me.
I had sensed Peter's anguish and pain, and I was most certainly empathetic toward it. Empathy was basic human instinct after all, and while my powers were far beyond those of a normal human being, my heart was not.
My arms were placed on my knees while my head rested on my forearms, I looked silently at the cold grey tombstone. A small storm of emotions in my heart, my mind in deep thought as I did nothing but sit there in silence.
I wasn't sure how much time had passed when I finally rose to my feet again, serenity slowly spreading in my heart with clarity returning to my mind.
“I don't know if my path is right or wrong.”, I whispered while looking at the engraved headstone, “But this is the one I have chosen, and it naturally comes with its own burdens and sacrifices. I won't ask for forgiveness or understanding as that would just be selfish hypocrisy.”
“Just know that I won't forget you while I walk this path to its end, Ben Parker.”, I ended quietly as I turned away from the grave.
Looking up, I gazed at the black sky, a few stars sparsely distributed over this dark canvas, glimmering faintly. Deep desire and longing welled up inside my heart, my shadowed green eyes seemingly glowing with a deep light.
…
Returning home, I saw that Jean thankfully hadn't woken up, though I still didn't feel like going back to sleep, even with my inner turmoil having been quelled.
Taking off my clothes, I kept my shirt on and put on a long pair of pajama pants as I moved beside the bed, my hand reaching out to gently brush over my love's sleeping form. Unable and unwilling to stop the light smile that had stealthily appeared on my lips.
Leaving the bedroom, I sat down before the piano, my gaze still lingering on the sleeping red-haired beauty as I started to play a few soft tunes, an ethereal shield dampening the volume until it was nothing but a gentle whisper in the night.
Divenire, Ludovico Einaudi.
I played and played, time seemingly becoming a foreign concept, my eyes returning to Jean's sleeping form every so often. I noticed it almost immediately when she started to wake up but I continued playing while watching her every move.
I saw her blinking away her drowsiness as she slowly sat up in our bed, her eyes finding mine quickly.
She didn't call out for me or left the bed. Pulling her knees close to her chest, she just rested her head on her arms as she looked at me, her eyes shining softly, deep love and longing in them.
…
Waking up while soft tunes sounded out, the first thing Jean noticed was Elijah's absence, his warmth something her heart longed for every moment of the day. Instinctively, she reached out with her mind to find him, even while still drowsy.
Thankfully, Elijah had somehow adjusted the shield that hid his presence and mind from others, so that she could sense him even if he was still untraceable for all others.
Jean couldn't connect their minds but simply feeling that he was close, lessened some of the need to be near him, even if only slightly.
Opening her eyes, she realized that it was still dark outside and a few more hours until morning.
Her thoughts though didn't linger on this as her gaze locked onto Elijah the moment she sat up in bed. She saw him sitting before the piano through the opened bedroom door, his head turning her way as his green eyes found hers.
The soft notes he coaxed out of the instrument, in addition to the look in his eyes, were telling enough for Jean to realize that he played for her.
She stayed quiet, unwilling to interrupt him as a soft smile lit up Elijah's face.
Jean knew that Elijah was a complicated person and entirely unordinary. He was careful with his words, unwilling to just casually speak his mind without thinking things through. He was no talker, which made every word of his even more meaningful.
In many ways, Elijah was an observer at heart, often enjoying the act of just being present more than participating. It made him a bit quiet, even though his presence could never be ignored, as he held himself in a way that just made others mindful of him, even when silent.
It was a strange contradiction and one of the many beautiful puzzles that made up his character.
Often though, this made it difficult for Elijah to be carefree and live in the moment. Jean could see this in the way her love looked at the world, his gorgeous green eyes carrying endless depths within them.
Still though, this also made every time he did 'let go' very very precious.
It wasn't that Elijah didn't laugh or bicker with his friends and family, it was just that he always seemed somewhat thoughtful, with his focus being heightened. Only when around her, he seemed to have an easier time letting go, and this was especially true when he played the piano.
Jean knew that this was because Elijah loved her deeply, and trusted her like no one else, which was also why these moments were so precious to her.
Looking at him as he played note after note, gazing at her with love while a light smile sat on his lips, Jean could see that there was nothing else on her love's mind besides his desire to play for her.
At this very moment, he was free. Like the wind itself, he seemed carefree, untouchable, almost ethereal. His dark locks dancing softly around his charming features.
And yet, Jean felt it, felt it in the depths of her soul – Elijah, belonged to her, as did his music. Even if only for this moment.
…
I didn't stop playing, though I looked at her more and more often, smiling as my fingers danced over the keys, beautiful melodies filling the empty space between us.
I saw the small smile pulling up the corners of her full lips, filled with such tenderness that it made my heart tremble, her flaming hair framing her hauntingly beautiful features, a single stray lock hanging playfully in her face, brushing past her cheek.
And I didn't stop playing for her, telling her how much I loved and needed her with every musical note echoing between us.
I only stopped playing after she had laid on her side while still facing me, her eyes fluttering close as the tunes slowly lulled her back to sleep.
Closing the fallboard silently, I walked towards the bed, slipping under the covers and gently pulling Jean atop myself.
Already half-asleep, she nestled herself in my embrace with half-closed eyes, one of her small hands taking hold of my shirt while the other moved up and brushed over my cheek, her fingers wandering along my jaw, caressing the side of my neck.
The only piece of clothing Jean wore was a shirt of mine, the thin fabric doing little to dampen the wonderful sensation of her soft curves melding perfectly with my athletic form, her little feet slipping between my own.
Her head rested atop my chest, listening to the beat of my heart while seemingly soaking up my warmth and presence, my hands gently running down her back while combing through her fiery locks.
Even if someone asked me to describe it, I wasn't sure I could find the right words to explain how incredibly intimate it felt to feel Jean's weight on top of me, her smaller frame buried in my embrace, as she slowly drifted into the land of dreams.
The only thing I was sure of as I finally fell asleep myself, was that she belonged to me.
[2009 – September]
Waking up with a start, my heart beat a bit irregularly even though I couldn't recall the scenes from my sudden nightmare.
It was still the middle of the night, and the soft moonlight threw a few faint shadows in the otherwise dark room.
Taking a few deep breaths, I looked down at the warm bundle in my arms, Jean laying curled up next to me, her breathing even and peaceful. She only wore a shirt of mine and I could feel her warmth and soft curves through the thin fabric.
Silently slipping out from under the covers, I knew that I wouldn't be able to fall asleep again, seeing as this was the third time I had woken up tonight.
Looking down at my fiery fairy, I made sure that Jean was tucked in safely before I grabbed a pair of blue Jeans, a black hoodie, and a pair of socks while leaving the bedroom.
Getting dressed quickly, I put on my coat and slipped on a pair of black sneakers, invoking a barrier the next moment as I vanished from the room.
Inhaling the cold night air, I reappeared at a cemetery in New York City the next moment. Walking in a particular direction, it didn't take me long to arrive before a rather special tombstone.
The engraving was simple and short, it read: In loving memory of Ben Parker, 1958 – 2009.
Sighing inaudibly, I sat down on the cold and damp grass, my emotions somewhat disorderly.
I was a rational person and I had not saved Ben Parker after careful consideration. Still, I wasn't heartless and even though I understood that his death was not my fault, I couldn't help the trace of guilt that had appeared in my heart, weighing on me.
I had sensed Peter's anguish and pain, and I was most certainly empathetic toward it. Empathy was basic human instinct after all, and while my powers were far beyond those of a normal human being, my heart was not.
My arms were placed on my knees while my head rested on my forearms, I looked silently at the cold grey tombstone. A small storm of emotions in my heart, my mind in deep thought as I did nothing but sit there in silence.
I wasn't sure how much time had passed when I finally rose to my feet again, serenity slowly spreading in my heart with clarity returning to my mind.
“I don't know if my path is right or wrong.”, I whispered while looking at the engraved headstone, “But this is the one I have chosen, and it naturally comes with its own burdens and sacrifices. I won't ask for forgiveness or understanding as that would just be selfish hypocrisy.”
“Just know that I won't forget you while I walk this path to its end, Ben Parker.”, I ended quietly as I turned away from the grave.
Looking up, I gazed at the black sky, a few stars sparsely distributed over this dark canvas, glimmering faintly. Deep desire and longing welled up inside my heart, my shadowed green eyes seemingly glowing with a deep light.
…
Returning home, I saw that Jean thankfully hadn't woken up, though I still didn't feel like going back to sleep, even with my inner turmoil having been quelled.
Taking off my clothes, I kept my shirt on and put on a long pair of pajama pants as I moved beside the bed, my hand reaching out to gently brush over my love's sleeping form. Unable and unwilling to stop the light smile that had stealthily appeared on my lips.
Leaving the bedroom, I sat down before the piano, my gaze still lingering on the sleeping red-haired beauty as I started to play a few soft tunes, an ethereal shield dampening the volume until it was nothing but a gentle whisper in the night.
Divenire, Ludovico Einaudi.
I played and played, time seemingly becoming a foreign concept, my eyes returning to Jean's sleeping form every so often. I noticed it almost immediately when she started to wake up but I continued playing while watching her every move.
I saw her blinking away her drowsiness as she slowly sat up in our bed, her eyes finding mine quickly.
She didn't call out for me or left the bed. Pulling her knees close to her chest, she just rested her head on her arms as she looked at me, her eyes shining softly, deep love and longing in them.
…
Waking up while soft tunes sounded out, the first thing Jean noticed was Elijah's absence, his warmth something her heart longed for every moment of the day. Instinctively, she reached out with her mind to find him, even while still drowsy.
Thankfully, Elijah had somehow adjusted the shield that hid his presence and mind from others, so that she could sense him even if he was still untraceable for all others.
Jean couldn't connect their minds but simply feeling that he was close, lessened some of the need to be near him, even if only slightly.
Opening her eyes, she realized that it was still dark outside and a few more hours until morning.
Her thoughts though didn't linger on this as her gaze locked onto Elijah the moment she sat up in bed. She saw him sitting before the piano through the opened bedroom door, his head turning her way as his green eyes found hers.
The soft notes he coaxed out of the instrument, in addition to the look in his eyes, were telling enough for Jean to realize that he played for her.
She stayed quiet, unwilling to interrupt him as a soft smile lit up Elijah's face.
Jean knew that Elijah was a complicated person and entirely unordinary. He was careful with his words, unwilling to just casually speak his mind without thinking things through. He was no talker, which made every word of his even more meaningful.
In many ways, Elijah was an observer at heart, often enjoying the act of just being present more than participating. It made him a bit quiet, even though his presence could never be ignored, as he held himself in a way that just made others mindful of him, even when silent.
It was a strange contradiction and one of the many beautiful puzzles that made up his character.
Often though, this made it difficult for Elijah to be carefree and live in the moment. Jean could see this in the way her love looked at the world, his gorgeous green eyes carrying endless depths within them.
Still though, this also made every time he did 'let go' very very precious.
It wasn't that Elijah didn't laugh or bicker with his friends and family, it was just that he always seemed somewhat thoughtful, with his focus being heightened. Only when around her, he seemed to have an easier time letting go, and this was especially true when he played the piano.
Jean knew that this was because Elijah loved her deeply, and trusted her like no one else, which was also why these moments were so precious to her.
Looking at him as he played note after note, gazing at her with love while a light smile sat on his lips, Jean could see that there was nothing else on her love's mind besides his desire to play for her.
At this very moment, he was free. Like the wind itself, he seemed carefree, untouchable, almost ethereal. His dark locks dancing softly around his charming features.
And yet, Jean felt it, felt it in the depths of her soul – Elijah, belonged to her, as did his music. Even if only for this moment.
…
I didn't stop playing, though I looked at her more and more often, smiling as my fingers danced over the keys, beautiful melodies filling the empty space between us.
I saw the small smile pulling up the corners of her full lips, filled with such tenderness that it made my heart tremble, her flaming hair framing her hauntingly beautiful features, a single stray lock hanging playfully in her face, brushing past her cheek.
And I didn't stop playing for her, telling her how much I loved and needed her with every musical note echoing between us.
I only stopped playing after she had laid on her side while still facing me, her eyes fluttering close as the tunes slowly lulled her back to sleep.
Closing the fallboard silently, I walked towards the bed, slipping under the covers and gently pulling Jean atop myself.
Already half-asleep, she nestled herself in my embrace with half-closed eyes, one of her small hands taking hold of my shirt while the other moved up and brushed over my cheek, her fingers wandering along my jaw, caressing the side of my neck.
The only piece of clothing Jean wore was a shirt of mine, the thin fabric doing little to dampen the wonderful sensation of her soft curves melding perfectly with my athletic form, her little feet slipping between my own.
Her head rested atop my chest, listening to the beat of my heart while seemingly soaking up my warmth and presence, my hands gently running down her back while combing through her fiery locks.
Even if someone asked me to describe it, I wasn't sure I could find the right words to explain how incredibly intimate it felt to feel Jean's weight on top of me, her smaller frame buried in my embrace, as she slowly drifted into the land of dreams.
The only thing I was sure of as I finally fell asleep myself, was that she belonged to me.
