Just You and I, Your Starless Eyes Remain

”And then I will be with you”

My hand gently knocked against the cool wood door. I made note of how my hands were shaking and I tried to stop; I could never let Frank know that he was making me that nervous, that I liked him that much. I looked at the door knob and saw it turning. Frank was opening the door; this was it.

I swallowed rather hard as I saw the door start to creek open. The light from inside the room began to flood into the dark hallway.

And then there was Frank, standing right in front of me.

He cleared his throat nervously and, with out saying anything fully opened the door and gestured for me to come in. I followed him into his room and sat in his bed; he took a seat opposite from me in a desk chair. I went to open my mouth to say something but he cut me off.

“I hope this explains everything.” As he said this he picked up his guitar.

He lightly strummed a G chord and quickly fiddled with the knobs on the guitar to properly tune it. Then he looked up and his eyes met mine. They were slightly red, as if from crying, but I couldn’t imagine why he would be. He had nothing to be hurt by. He returned his glance down by returning to his original position of staring down at the guitar. He strummed a G again, but this time followed by a D and an Em. He repeated this twice as the chords’ haunting noise lifted from its acoustic base, pouring out into the room. He opened his mouth and began to sing.

”Why are you so far away?
Even when you’re standing next to me.
Your eyes give you away, telling secrets with your mouth.
You don’t feel like talking.”

His chord progressions began to change as he continued on. His voice carried the words to me.

”And I’ll be your Lloyd Dobler,
With a boom box down the street.
And I’ll be there if you need some one,
Even if he isn’t me

He looked up into my eyes quickly, in almost a pleading way, and then looked back down to his guitar to continue. His flawless performance never ceased during this minor distraction.

Lying in your bed,
As lights dance across the ceiling.
I listen to you breathe,
Toss and turn in your sleep.
And I wish that you'd believe.
That I'll be your Lloyd Dobbler,
With a boom box out in the street.
And I'll be there if you need someone,
Even if he isn't me.
There's a Norman Rockwell painting,
Two kids sitting on a bench.
It reminds me of all the stupid things
I'd like for us to share.
But I don't care”

His last words rang and held a presence in the air even moments after he had stopped. I looked at him speechlessly as my wide eyes began to fill up. Tears started to make there escape down my cheeks as I looked into his eyes. We held onto the moment and embraced the silence. Nothing I could say would be able to express what I felt. His beautiful words carried by a beautiful voice wrapped in such a melody disserves none of the words I could say. He disserved more.

He disserved more, but he wanted me.

He leaned in closer as he rolled the desk chair to right in front of me. He then, tenderly but quickly, filled the space between us. His soft lips met mine gently. Once it ended I pulled back speechless again.

“By the way,” he breathed softly, yet powerfully. “I like your new piercing,” he finished gesturing to my nose.