Silent

I laced my hand with John’s and took him up the stairs after the funeral. Pop went to go to the bar with his buddies and I wanted to do something Nana had been telling me to do for a year. I unlock the art room with my key and bring John over to show him.

Show someone. She’d told me. These are beautiful. Show someone.

I flipped on the light and brought him over to old canvas’ of mine. Most were war depictions, when I picked painting back up after my brother’s death. Brutal scenes, red washing over anything that was light. Dangerous and dark, I painted my nightmares for all to see.

Then there were paintings of those I loved. My mother, my father, my brother, my Nana, my Pop. And not that I would admit it, but John had become a frequent sketch of mine. “Wow, Aellea.” He breathed and looked at then, touching only the corners without being asked. “These are… hauntingly beautiful.” He said. I smiled and brought out a book for what I really loved to do- photography.

“I stopped after my brother died.” I explain and he sits on the couch to flip through the photos. I mostly did action shots- it was what I was good at.

“I love the ones you take of your Nana. And the one you painted. It really just shows how much you love her.” He smiles and I nod.

The room got a little tense after I started thinking about my Nana. “How about you paint me?” John asked and I laughed. “Now?”

“Yeah!” John said. “I need something to hang over my fireplace.” I laughed and rolled my eyes, taking out my camera. I sit John on a stool and position his face right. I snap one from every angle that I need and he smiles. I snap one more, loving the way his nose wrinkles and his freckles became more prominent. The way his laugh lines showed though and some how made him seem… younger. I snap two more and smile.

He pulls me into his lap and smiles. “Another.” He says and I giggle. “This is hardly the camera to take a seflie with, John.”

He prompts me to do it anyway, so I do. Climbing of his lap. “Wanna help me develop these?” I ask and he nods. “I’ve never developed photos before.” He says.

“Let me show you the ways of the world.” I laugh and pull him into the bathroom that was connected to the room, I had transformed it into my own dark room a while back. I pour out the chemicals into the containers and cut the film out of the canister. I turn on the light fixture I made to be totally red, a low light that wouldn’t damage any film.

I do the presoak and prompt John to put it into the developer. I help his take the thongs and put it into the stop bath, than the fixer. The whole while, John steals sweet kisses from my neck, my hair my face, still never my lips. I assume he thought I was still to fragile.

I take the pictures out and hang them up to dry, dangling from the clothes line hug across my bathroom. I smile at the one of John laughing.

I pause and look at one that had forgotten, that proved how long it was since I’d used my camera. My brother, sitting in his room, was playing the guitar smiling at me. I was trying to get an action shot but he caught me, and smiled. He always did that. Smile to ruin my artsy photo.

It was a good one of him. Something to be framed. John holds me close and I lean back onto his chest. I scan the others and stop at the one of the two of us, it was a little shaky, but I was smiling, and John’s face was resting in my neck.

“I’d like to buy that off the artist.” John says and I smile. “I don’t sell to my models.”

John chuckles, and takes my face in one of his large hands. He smiles, before pulling me in, dipping his head down to meet for a kiss. I gasp at the feeling, the unadulterated please I got from the simple action of placing my lips on his.

I pull myself forward and kiss him harder, trying to pull more out of him, and he offers it up. He bends down and hooks his arms around my hips, lifting me up. My legs hook around him and without breaking our lip he carried me out of the bathroom, back across the all to my room.

My back lands on the bed and he growls, going for my neck. He groans and pulls back, panting, rolling off of me. “What! Why did you stop?!” I ask and roll over, trying to kiss him again.

“No.” He says. “No. Not now.” He sighs.

“Why not, John, I’ve got a condo in the drawer and-”

He chuckles and kisses me sweetly. “Not now. I want to save it.” He says and I huff. “I can handle it-”

“I know you can handle it, Aellea. I’m just not sure if I can. You’re a fucking fireball.” He says and I smile.

Damn right I was a fucking fireball.