What Do You Want the Most

Night was beginning to fall as we sat on the couch, Aaron’s arms around me, watching a movie. The window behind us portrayed an arrangement of orange, purple, and red clouds. The ocean’s waves created a picture like quality. The relationship between Aaron and I had changed after our conversation on the beach. I could feel his trust in me and a strange shadow, almost as if now he was scared to let me out of his sight. He had been acting protective all day but I didn’t mind. It was in the good, makes you feel wanted way.

As the credits rolled I shrugged off the afghan and reluctantly pulled out of his arms.

“Spaghetti okay?” Aaron nodded. He got up and began looking around the small room as I meandered over to the kitchen. Pots and pans came crashing down in an avalanche when I opened the cupboard next to the fridge. When the vibrating finally stopped a different melody came to my ears. I stood up and looked out the door. Aaron was seated on an old piano bench and was playing a beautiful piece from memory.

I stopped and leaned against the doorway while watching his fingers fluidly skim the keys. It was amazing what he was capable of. When the song was finished he looked over at me and did a blushing smile. He walked up to me and took my hands in his. That annoying fluttering feeling overwhelmed my stomach. Aaron was so close and he smelled so good. I leaned in to rest my head on his shoulder, but his hand came up and cupped my chin. He turned my face to look at him again and pulled me closer. His lips set gently against mine, resting for a few seconds and then he pulled away.

I was in shock. His lips were warm and smooth, acting as a comfort to me. Aaron smiled his slightly crooked smile, the ones that are always perfect. I couldn’t help but grin back.

“Spaghetti now?” He laughed. I nodded.

“As long as there is music to accompany it.”

Aaron returned to the piano and I to the kitchen. I began cooking dinner to the music that flew from his fingers.