Love is Love

I didn’t notice the sky lightening at first. One moment, the air was inky blue so dark it was almost black and the only sounds were crickets and the occasional night creature scurrying to its bed at last. Then the next, the horizon began to simmer and the sounds of dawn stirred. Birds sang and flying insects rose, accompanied by an almost audible sigh, as if the entire earth were stretching awake.

An irrational part of me was drawn forward toward the intensifying light as the molten orange corona burned over the low mountains in the distance. It had been so long since I’d felt the sun’s heat on my skin. But I stuck to the shadows in which I sought sanctuary, watching with awe and a touch of envy as the sunrise set my companion ablaze. Of course, if I’d stupidly joined her, it would too set me to flame, but not in the same way. The dawn’s first rays perfectly complemented her golden skin. My own pale complexion wouldn’t fare quite as well. In fact, I’d be reduced to a foolish pile of ash beside her if I’d let that irrational part of my brain win out.

And so, we enjoyed watching the sun rise from our respective places, her stretching toward the growing warmth like the many plants beside her in the meadow and me skulking nearby at the meadow’s dim and well-shaded edge.

Once the sun had fully risen, she danced back toward where she knew I waited, a grin gracing her lips and morning dew clinging to her short red-blonde hair. I brushed a single knuckle against her cheek, my own smile spreading to match hers. She put her arms around me, fingers trailing through my dark brown locks. It was a constant source of amusement for her that I wore my hair longer than hers, though I didn’t totally understand why. Male and female standards of acceptable appearance were in flux so often; I’d hardly ever drawn raised-eyebrows over the centuries simply as a result of being a man with loose, long hair. Of course, other aspects of my look were more attention catching, if I chose to flaunt them.

“Enjoying yourself?” I murmured against her neck as she snuggled closer to me.

“Always,” she breathed. She was warmer than usual from basking in the sunrise. I was about to make some smart comment in reply, but she dragged her lips against mine. They were so soft, I wondered how she could be anything other than gentle, but her kisses were hungry for more than an early breakfast. Even as her mouth explored mine, I watched her eyes flutter away from my face and down toward the ground between us, as if analyzing a battleground. Or simply gauging its softness should I decide to lay her down against it. She’d approach both with the same level of intensity.

I rolled my eyes. She was incorrigible. “We have other engagements today, Nyssa.”

“I can work quickly,” she countered, pressing herself fully against me now. If she had her way, we’d never leave this small stretch of woods, whiling away hours and days, maybe her whole life, living in the fantasy this spot created, like we lived in another world, another time.

“Where’s the fun in that?” I asked her, nipping her ear despite myself. I wasn’t trying to encourage her, but she made it so damn hard. Already her hands left my hair and trailed down toward the front of my waist. Lower. With a concentrated effort, I stepped away from her, though I kept hold of one arm, pulling her hand into mine.

“The christening,” I reminded her. She made a face, as if the celebration of her goddaughter’s birth, a joyous occasion for her best friend, was something to not exactly dread, but perhaps put off a little longer. I knew why she was slightly resentful. It was the reason I’d brought her to the meadow, her favorite place, to brighten her mood.

“I want to be happy for her. God, I am so happy for her. But a tiny, terrible, bitchy part of me hates her a bit too,” she confessed, squeezing my hand.

I sighed and brought her closer to me again, resting my head against her damp hair. Her attempt at a brave front reminded me of the sacrifices love too often asked for. I’d let her go in a second if she weren’t so damn stubborn. And beautiful. And smart, funny, sexy. It was more unfair for her than me to find we matched so well. She had more to lose. But this was something she hadn’t realized she’d miss until her best friend announced she and her husband were expecting.

Children were rare to the point of practical impossibility concerning relationships like ours. And if we were ever blessed with one, a curse it would be as well. Those pregnancies were dangerous at best, for both mother and child. It was a fact we’d discussed and pretended to come to terms with, but little reminders sometimes ripped off the invisible bandages.

I drew a breath to offer, I don’t know, support? Maybe condolence? The offer to seek her future with someone else?

“Don’t even think about it,” she told me, using her uncanny ability to read my mind. She held me tighter, but not in a desirous way this time. “Love is love,” she said simply. It had become almost a mantra of ours, though I know she’d gotten it from social media posts concerning other relationships, each facing their own obstacles in the world. “And now we have another little life to love,” she continued, pulling me back toward the car. I watched as she resolved to enjoy herself and be there for her friends, to find the light even in the face of her own sadness, and I loved her even more than I’d thought possible.

It was still early, so in truth, was had plenty of time to get ready. As I saw Nyssa dress from across the room, I almost reconsidered my decision to put off her amorous advances this morning. With or without out clothes, she was stunning, the cream and gray dress she donned somehow both demure and alluring, elegant and enticing. She grinned as she met my gaze and eyed my own admittedly sharp appearance, as if her thoughts mirrored mine. They often did.

She applied a touch of make-up, I pulled my hair back into a simply tail, and we were ready. Weeks before, Nyssa had half-jokingly asked if I could even attend the ceremony seeing as it was held in a church. I laughed and assured her that so long as I was invited in, I could enter any building. My soul was no more damned than any typical churchgoers’ and none of them burned on contact with consecrated ground. Churches were actually easier than most places, the invitation practically implied, as the house of God was open to all. And failing God’s open-mindedness, the official invitation to the christening in my pocket would suffice.

Nyssa dropped my hand when we arrived and her friends came into view, rushing forward to hug both Marie and her husband, Jordan. Clutched in Marie’s arms was the guest of honor, though little Eva’s face was barely visible beneath the layers of her miniature white gown. She practically swam in the waves of lace and satin. I stepped up beside them, quickly pecking Marie’s cheek, nodding to Jordan, and congratulating them both.

“I’m so glad you came, Nyss,” she gushed. “And you, of course, Alec.”

Though Marie and Jordan had known me for years as a constant presence in Nyssa’s life and were always warm and friendly toward me, some small animal part of their brains still shivered in instinctual fear, born of a time eons ago, a time of careless panic and predation. Usually they ignored it, but I’d noticed that since becoming parents, they’d grown just a touch more in tune with that subconscious warning, maybe feeling some protective instinct they couldn’t quite explain. Not that I’d ever hurt any of them. But I obviously couldn’t come out and explain that to the nervous first-time parents either. I valued their friendship, and more importantly, their love for Nyssa, too much to do that.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I said, flashing a close-lipped smile. And despite our earlier reservations, neither of us would. Nyssa was right. A new little face in her life, our life, was indeed something to celebrate. Before the ceremony, Marie insisted she hold Eva. The girl’s dark eyes were wide open as she studied her godmother’s face. At first her mouth was shaped in a curious little “o” but it quickly shifted toward a wide smile. That was Nyssa’s immediate effect on most people. So inviting and confident was her presence that she even convinced the baby’s parents to allow me to hold her.

I was cautious at first. My lean build belied strength beyond anything that should handle such a fragile thing as a baby, but Nyssa’s confidence in me reassured me that I wouldn’t accidently crushed Eva to a paste with an errant squeeze. The baby was so warm and light, I felt like I was holding a ray of sunlight from the meadow this morning. She didn’t smile at me like she had with Nyssa. But she didn’t cry either. She simply stared into my eyes, still making up her mind about what she saw there. Then she took my thumb in her tiny fist and stuck it in her mouth before I knew what she was doing. She bit down like my thumb was the greatest thing in the world, her toothless gums possibly the weirdest thing I’d ever felt.

Marie looked over and her cheeks reddened slightly. “Oh, sorry about that, Alec. She’s teething right now and she’s a bit of a biter.” I almost laughed. We had that in common. When I met Nyssa’s eyes, still holding back a chuckle, she grinned and shook her head. Marie held out her arms, and when I relinquished the baby, I could somehow still feel her weight and warmth lingering in my arms, though she’d weighed almost less than air to me.

Part of me understood the bitterness Nyssa had stored away. I always thought about what she gave up in loving me, never stopping to consider what I myself once lost. I’d never be a father any more than she could be a mother while with me. And that pricked at my heart more than I thought it would. It wasn’t that I’d never met a baby before in my time on earth. I’d just never wanted one, never had someone who I wanted to have one with.

The ceremony itself dragged on longer that I thought necessary, though despite what a long life might afford some; patience was never a virtue I valued. There were candles, scented oils, and monologues from the priest about washing away original sin and the duty of the parents to guide the child in the way of the church. Eva was splashed with holy water. She didn’t appreciate that.

And then, abruptly it was over. Eva was officially catholic, at least for the next few years, until she grew up and maybe decided she like another path better, or maybe none at all. I could extoll to her the benefits of atheism if she wanted, though Marie and Jordan may not appreciate that.

We followed the rest of the congregation, family members, and friends, to Marie and Jordan’s house for a reception. Marie drank the champagne with relish despite the hour being just after noon. Perhaps making up for lost time during her pregnancy. The snacks were simple, but I knew Jordan was a great cook, and though I rarely ate, I tried one and it was delicious. The cake, which Jordan also made, read “God Bless Eva Marie” in pink frosting. I kind of hoped that, if I was wrong and God did exist, that he took the message to heart. Little Eva was a good spirit, I could tell. She deserved a blessed life.

When it was time to leave, I found myself a little sad to go. Parties among Nyssa’s friends all too often went on longer than I felt like pushing myself to tolerate them most of the time, but Marie and Jordan were good people and catching glimpses of Eva’s smile seemed to slow time down and speed it up all at once. It was similar to how I felt being around Nyssa. Looking at her, I could tell she was a little sad too. A lot of the time, we lived our life separately from others, and for the most part, we both preferred it. But there were always moments like these that made being around them worthwhile. A touch of humanity for when Nyssa’s maybe didn’t feel like enough for both of us.

Dusk was just starting to settle as we drove home, but I could tell Nyssa was tired. The cost of getting up before dawn this morning. I held her hand and neither of us felt the need to fill the companionable silence.

While she made an early dinner, I sought my own meal. Despite the years we’d been together, I tried to shield that part of myself from her still, though she’d witnessed me feed before and wasn’t overly bothered by it, in part thanks to my refraining from leaving lasting damage of my food sources. They’d wake up right as rain and with no memory of the meal we shared. Long gone were the days of killing and glutting. It was too messy and stirred too much trouble. If I’d lived that sort of life, I could never be with Nyssa, and so it never appealed to me, even before I’d met her. As if a part of me always knew.

I returned and brushed my teeth. Nothing killed the mood like smelling someone else on me; though I had a feeling we wouldn’t be revisiting that position from this morning. Not tonight. Nyssa wasn’t as skilled a chef as Jordan and I’d already eaten, so I simply watched her through dinner. She smiled at me and we talked of small things.

We weren’t hiding from some deeper conversation, but I knew it was on her mind as much as mine. When I was feeding, it only reminded me of how I was different, how we were different, and the consequences of that fact. Once I might have wallowed in self-pity or insisted that Nyssa leave me for someone who could give her all she wanted out of life. But being with her had slowly taught me that love was all she wanted and it was all I wanted as well. The rest were simply details.  Besides, I wasn’t likely to ever get rid of her, her strong will one of her most seductive qualities.

That night a full moon rose, pale a bright, illuminating our overgrown backyard. Nyssa breathed slow and deeply beside me on the porch, hovering somewhere between sleep and waking. Most of her face was relaxed, but a tiny wrinkle formed between her eyebrows. I rubbed her shoulder until it faded and she sunk fully into unconsciousness.

The moon reflected gently in the small pond at the edge of our backyard. Nighttime sounds reasserted themselves once again. Times like these made me glad I was a night person, so to speak. The air was cool and peaceful, and though I didn’t really need to, I felt like laying down beside Nyssa and drifting off to sleep.

“This chapter of our life isn’t over yet,” I whispered to her. “I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Somehow. I promise.”