Something Pure

I see her sitting there, across the room all alone. A delicate teacup rising to her perfect mouth. She takes a slow sip of steaming drink. It's rooibos tea today, like most days. She taunts me unknowingly with each subtle sip she takes. The small cup sits in her hands just below her face and she breathes in the sweet scent of the drink. Her eyes close and I can tell that she's more relaxed in that moment then she has been all day.

A partially eaten scone sits on a matching plate next to her, and it's just the way she eats that makes it look so delicious. Just like everything she does. How long have I sat here and watched her? Slowly drinking her tea everyday, seeing her come in and watch her transform into this beautiful woman that sits alone everyday.

My mind always wondered why she sat by herself. I wonder if she's lonely like I am. Sometimes I can picture myself walking up to her. She smiles warmly and offers the open seat at her table to me. We'll drink tea and talk of nothing and yet slowly come to learn everything of one another. She'd be enthralled by everything I've done in my life, laugh at my jokes, and gently reach across the table and place her soft hand over mine, smiling at me. Just me.

But this image always fades. Fades when the harsh reality comes that she doesn't want anything to do with me. This woman, this beautifully composed work of art could never return the things I feel I have for her. But what I would give to touch the smooth flesh of her cheek. One day, I promise myself, she will be mine to love forever.

She moves to leave, and like many days before, I'm pulled to her as she uncrosses her magnificent legs and stands, gently pushing in her chair. It lifts off the ground so the black wrought iron chair wont scrape noisily across the marble flooring. Her consideration makes me smile. She leaves a few dollars on the table and walk out of the small café, the door being open to let the warm summer breeze entangle in the sweet air of the coffees, teas, and pastries, ensnaring the senses. A moment passes and I follow, being compelled to find out where something so beautiful, so pure will go. She walks down the street, the sunrays gently wrapping around her in a warm embrace, making her skin and air glow like an angel.

Each day she disappears behind a thick glass door that blocks me from going any farther. The door to her apartment building, it locks behind her and my world turns cold. Cold without her in my view. And each day I sigh sadly at my loss, and walk back home to think of her.

But one day, I walk up to her before we're forced to part ways because of the cold glass that separates me from my beautiful angel. I must know where this perfect woman goes. "Excuse me," I say, "my mother, you see, she lives in this building, but she cannot hear my call." I take in a short breath, trying to calm my nerves. A smile graces her features, warm and perfect and before I could find my voice to tell her the rest of my story, she speaks, her voice soft and tender, yet rich and captivating at the same time. She lets me in, the door opening without a sound. I smile at her and say my thanks, and my perfect angel begins to walk up a long flight of stairs off to the left of the door. I walk straight down a narrow hall just enough to be hidden from her sight and watch as flawless legs disappear up the staircase. When she's gone from my sight I follow, needing to see her. I climb the stairs carefully and peer down the hallway of the floor it leads to. I see her disappear behind a door not far from me, and I can't help to not follow her.

I come to a stop in front of the large piece of wood that separates me from her. My hand raises and I knock on it twice, excitement starting to take over at the thought of her seeing me. She opens the door and a smile that had been on her face falls. I try to smile back at her, feeling hurt at the denial of something I've come to need. Her beautiful smile, she took it away from me. Something foreign seeps into the corners of her eyes and she tries to shut the door on me. Crushed that my sweet angel doesn't want me, I grab the door not allowing it shut. I thrust open the door and push my way into the room. I close the door behind me and I look down to see that she has fallen. I walk to her and try to pick her up, an apology on my lips before she starts to scream, and tries to scramble away. I frown at her actions, hurt that she could so openly do this to me. I move quickly, struggling to pin her to the ground on her back. I'm successful, but she wont listen to me when I try to explain myself. She starts screaming again, and my eyes widen at the thought of someone hearing her, someone coming in and taking her away from me.

"Shhh…" I whisper, my fingers wrapping tightly around her neck, squeezing upward. She struggles against me, and I can't suppress a moan that escapes through my lips as the vibrations from her strangled gasps of air try to make it through to her lungs. Her fingers claw at my hands, long scratch marks beginning to sting and bubble up with blood as she frantically peels away at the layers of flesh. My beautiful angel.

Her eyes are bloodshot and her face slowly turns the color of roses. So pretty. Salty streaks of tears strain out of the corners of her eyes, and the violently throbbing of her erratically pumping heart that I can feel in my palms excites me to a level I've never touched before.

I lean down and whisper everything I've ever felt towards her. Each memory and emotion recalled with loving detail. My fingers press harder into her flesh, and I revel in the warmth of the heating skin, and I can't remember every a time putting my fingers around something so soft, so fragile in my life before. My need swells to an unspeakable level and my carefully placed words in her ears become more ragged, and shaky. I'm disappointed in my lack of control, even if I know she can't hear me. The rush of blood and the loud noise of her heart throbbing beautifully in her perfect ears would refuse to let my voice penetrate. No matter. My words are spoken, and I'm sure she can see everything in my eyes.

She's slowing down and her once rosy face has turned shades of blue and purple that look so uniquely beautiful on her. She looks directly in my eye and I mouth the words "I love you" softly. The recognition of my words are seen in her sad, tired eyes before they roll back into her head, and her struggling stops completely.

I kiss her lips gently and stand. With care I pick up her limp body and find her bed to lay her upon. I fix her dress, letting me fingers trail over her legs, reveling in the feel of the smooth skin against my bloodied hands. I fold place arms across her stomach, taking the time to lovingly intertwine her fingers across her flawless abdomen. I arrange her long locks of hair that's so soft in my fingers and once my masterpiece is finished I step back. I sit at the edge of the bed, and watch her body lay there. My hands reach out and I touch her skin, never being denied. Long hours pass and I sit with her, my lips brushing over parts of her smooth skin. I stand, knowing it is time for me to leave the presence of this magnificent creature. I press my lips against hers once more, saying my goodbye.

And as I slowly close the door behind me, I smile, for I know that I've left my beautiful angel in peace.