Orlando's Shore

Written for a contest-- "write a scene that takes place right after a tragedy, don't mention the tragedy."

He'd always had the most beautiful eyes- you know, that deep, stormy blue you only read about in novels. And oh, I can't forget the spark. Lord, I never saw more passion and wonder than when I looked into Orlando's eyes as he played his cello. Orlando loved music, and I loved him. We shared a primal bond when he played. Occasionally I'd dance or paint nonsensical things as he played; mostly, though, I just sat in rapture of the sound. His music came the closest to divinity I could think of.

That was before. Now, I'm looking at him looking at the ocean. What he sees, I don't know. It's far away, somehow. I can tell he doesn't see the gulls or the clouds or the crashing waves right in front of him. Frowning, I walk up beside him and hug his waist. Without looking at me, he absently puts his arms around my shoulder. A shudder runs down my spine like serpent. Once warm and full, his touch leaves me feeling hollow inside. I rest my hand on his cheek, gently persuading his eyes from their invisible focus on to me.

"Darling, perhaps you'd like to play some. It's such a lovely evening. Shall I fetch your cello-"

"No." He says, voice curt. The rest of my words die on my tongue. He just stares at me, his blue eyes ice-cold.

I rest my head on his chest, his hands fall limp by his side. I sigh. In another life, we’d lie unencumbered and unrestricted in the sand, gazing at the stars and listening to the waves. We were free. My Orlando is now kept in bondage. I sink to the sand, running my hands down his legs as I do. Instantly, I feel him tense. Slowly, softly, I press kisses on the inside of his knee, his thigh, his calf, his feet as if he were my king. His  skin is soft, and a long dormant longing burns inside of me. Moving to my knees, I place my hands on his stomach and look up at him with invitation alight in my eyes.

"Come sit with me, my love. It is much too cold to sit alone." I murmur, kissing his stomach once. He pulls away instead of answering, and walks further down the beach, away from me.

Face burning with flustered embarrassment, I stumble up and after him. I grab his wrist and turn him towards me.

“Orlando,” I murmur, and kiss him with a deep longing. Without hesitating, he pushes me off in one, swift motion. I fall to the ground, hitting my head and moaning. I look up at him as he looks down at me. His eyes linger on my trembling figure for a moment before he looks away. Frustration and anger wash over me in a wave more turbulent than the oceans. I stand, glaring at him.

“You can’t let this control you forever, Orlando,” I yell, angry tears pricking my eyes. “I am your wife; let me help you! You cannot just repress the fact that-”

“Stop it!” He screams, putting his shaking hands over his ears. For the first time since it happened, I could see the fear, the anguish overtaking him. He falls to his knees, head in his hands. After a moment, I crouch behind him, holding him, stroking him. This time, he leans into me and takes my small hand in his large ones. And now, we sit here for an eternity, for just the blink of an eye.

Author's Note

Not my best work, may expand later. It was nice to work o a story again though, and I hope you enjoy. God Bless:)

Reviews

[jonah]

really emotional, this piece. i'm still kinda confused about the ending, where it actually was taking me. but that was really a fierce smash of waves.

[York Callow]

I find this very interesting and elegant... Keep it up!