Requiem

This story was written over a long period, the idea triggered by a friend of mine. Though it took forever to write and edit... and re-edit... I am extremely proud of how far it has come since its start. I would appreciate the feedback, positive or negative, anything that would help improve my writing. However... if you're going to respond that I took to long to get to the sexual aspect of it, I ask that you please leave and save your time and mine. I have never, EVER been into "Wham, Bam, Thank you Ma'am"... and my writing reflects that.

Thank you Angelus for the classical idea and triggering my brain for this story! And for letting me bounce ideas off of you. And an even more important thanks to my lifelong friend who has helped me find the passion within me and for helping me discover true love again... things I never thought I could have. I love you.

*

The soft bed sheets moved against my skin as Christian's fingers caressed my back, moving sensuously, teasing me. I turned to face him, the moonlight outlining his face, his blonde hair glistening.

"What are you doing?" I inquired playfully, my arms wrapping around his hard body.

"I woke up and saw you laying there and just couldn't help myself." His eyes, blue and dark, pierced mine as we stared at each other in the moonlit room.

He inched his facer closer to mine, his breath warm against me.

Suddenly, a blindingly bright light shone. I sat up quickly. I looked around to find daylight outside, and myself alone in bed with a note.

"Brianna,

You looked so beautiful, I couldn't wake you, though I was extremely tempted. I had to go to work early, so I left you pancake batter in the fridge, made with cinnamon just the way you like them. I love you. Enjoy your day off. I'm sorry I couldn't be home to share it with you.

Forever,

Christian"

I gripped the note and fell back on the bed. I smiled as I looked out the door to the balcony, sunlight streaming in, illuminating the room. It was the beginning of October, the air was cooling but warm, and the leaves were just beginning to change to match the color of the sun. Judging by the angle of the rising sun, it wasn't much past 8.

I missed Christian. Every bone in my body told me to go back to sleep and just wait for him to come home. The sheets warmed me as my naked body stretched beneath them. I vaguely attempted to fall back asleep until the faint scent of the pancakes that he made for himself this morning made its way up the staircase to my nose. I bounced out of bed, threw my robe on and flew down the stairs to the kitchen.

The scent of cinnamon flooded me. I opened the refrigerator to find the mix Christian left and hurriedly made myself breakfast.

"Hm... Maybe he really can cook," I mumbled to myself. "At least breakfast foods."

I silently ate the pancakes after drenching them in maple syrup. I swirled the remaining amount of syrup on the plate making odd designs purely for my own amusement. I dropped the fork on the plate and looked around the house.

"It's my day off and what am I doing? Sitting in my house, alone. This is officially pathetic." A boredom that bordered on depression swept over me as I began cleaning up the kitchen.

I slowly wandered my way back upstairs. I flipped through Christian and my vast music collection, and stumbled upon a CD I hadn't played in sometime. I placed my copy of Mozart's "Requiem" in the player and danced my way across the room. I dropped my robe back onto the chair that I originally retrieved it from and slid my naked body back under the sun-warmed sheets. The taste of perfectly-made pancakes on my tongue, and the thought of my interrupted dream still fresh in my mind, I curled into the heat of the October sun and fell back asleep.

"Hi."

Moonlight was once again illuminating the room. Christian had returned to my side, his fingers running up and down my spine, tracing small patterns across my back.

"Hi, yourself," I said. "I'm dreaming again, aren't I?"

"Maybe," Christian replied. "But if you are, I hope you wake up thinking it was a good dream."

His arms enveloped me as I moved closer to him. When I felt his lips press against my forehead, I began to wonder if I had maybe just fallen asleep that long and Christian had just woken me up when he got home.

No such luck.

As I closed my eyes and reached for his lips with my own, I heard a thud from behind me. Startled, my eyes flew open only to reveal a much higher sun. The light still came pouring into my room. I looked towards the balcony to see a dove sitting on the railing, seeming dazed and confused. I sat up and wrapped the sheet around me and made my way to the door.

Sliding the glass door open, the bird cocked its head and looked at me like I had just performed a magic trick. With a "coo," he flew away.

"Stupid bird," I muttered. As I looked over across the immense yard from the balcony, I watched the leaves change colors. I watched the first few orange and red fires fall to the ground. I retreated inside, back to the kitchen to make a cup of hot chocolate. It suddenly seemed that time and it was necessary. I sat at the table flipping through the paper, passing through the boring parts and going straight to the comic strip section waiting for the water to be hot enough. I had finished the sudoku puzzle and the word search by the time the water boiled.

"This is what my life has come to. On my day off, I absent-mindedly fill out ridiculous puzzles that any five year old could do." I paused for a moment.

"Dear sweet Jesus, I'm talking to myself."

Shaking my head, I poured the water into a mug and added the cocoa mix. Soon the scent of chocolate mingled with the cinnamon of this morning. I made my way back up to the balcony and sat in the wooden rocking chair, curled my feet underneath me, and just existed.

I drank my cocoa and watched as animals, from squirrels to rabbits, crossed our yard, many making their way to the lake and back across into the woods. I watched as birds swooped to catch fish. I was grateful that my day off was so beautifully warm. I knew I wouldn't get a chance to be so close to nature again as winter was fast approaching, though you wouldn't know it with the heat.

I turned to my left and looked at the easel and stool I had placed on the balcony six months ago when we first moved in. I hadn't touched it since then. It was always a case of not having time, or being to busy, or having better things to do or not knowing where to let myself go with my art. The truth was I was afraid to let myself relax. As I looked beyond the easel towards the tree-lined lake, I saw two deer approaching the clearing that allowed the house access to the lake. I watched as they stopped in the middle of that clearing, the sun and trees presenting brilliant shadows across the area. They were beautiful, graceful creatures as I watched what I assumed was the doe take care of her fawn, providing food for the both of them. Not wanting to miss this opportunity , I slipped the door open and walked to the art studio down the hall from our bedroom and grabbed an art pad and the pastels my mother had given me quite some time ago.

I ran quickly back towards the balcony, fearing the opportunity had escaped me. I put the art pad on the easel and turned to shut the door leading from the bedroom to the balcony. It emitted a loud click that startled even me. I turned to look at the clearing to find the doe looking up at me. She and the fawn were at least a hundred feet away, and I was above them, but I could feel her eyes on me. She and her fawn continued about their business, as I sat on the stool and began drawing furiously, afraid they would be startled again and run off.

They were stationary for quite sometime. As I had just begun the area around them, I noticed the doe look up with a start and run off towards the woods on the right side of the house, with the fawn close behind. I was saddened at first that something had startled them, knowing there was very little danger around here, but knew the doe was protecting herself and her fawn.

As I refocused my attention to the clearing the began filling in the trees and fallen leaves, the balcony door slid open.

"You know I hate it when you go outside in your underwear," a male voice said condescendingly.

"I know... that's why I didn't wear any," I replied smugly. "I'm wearing a sheet. It fully covers me. And oh. Wait. We're about fifteen miles from civilization. So unless you're concerned about animals ogling me, you've nothing to be concerned about."

Christian wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my hair.

"I don't want anyone looking at you. You're mine to enjoy."

"Well aren't we possessive?" I asked coyly.

I turned to face Christian and kissed him lightly.

"What are you doing home so early?" I asked with a smile.

"What? You don't want to see me? I see how it is," he replied, tickling my sides.

I dropped the pastel I was holding on the base of the easel and turned to face him.

"So you got fired, huh?" I joked.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny. No. With the holidays coming up we're finally having some down time. All of the advertising deals are done for the holidays, so boss let some of us go home early. He kept some of the slackers there as punishment."

"Wait. So he sent home his good workers, and is paying the guys who don't do anything?" I asked, mildly disturbed by the concept.

"Someone's gotta answer the phones... and I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to pay me a hundred and twenty dollars an hour to do it."

"You're a smart ass."

"Yes... I am... that's how we afforded this house. By me being a smart ass."

"Oh, so you're the lone contributor in the household?" I exclaimed, pretending I was insulted.

"Not at all baby." His hand caressed my cheek, moved down my neck and began playing with the area where the sheet lay on my chest. "You contribute more than enough."

With that he picked me up and spun me around on the balcony. He stood me up and kissed me. A long, hard kiss. As he backed away his denim blue eyes stared at me, roaming over my body, his hands slowly trying to push the sheet off my body.

"I thought you didn't want anyone to see me naked," I said coolly. "Aren't you afraid a squirrel will get aroused?"

"Let him."

"Who said it was a male squirrel?"

His laughter filled my ears as he wrapped his arms around me.

"I should let you finish before the sun goes down. By tomorrow it'll have all changed. The feeling won't be the same."

I looked at him, shocked that he understood not just that I wanted to finish, but the fact that I was capturing a moment, a feeling, a unity with nature. I watched as he turned and entered the bedroom, shutting the balcony door behind him. As I turned back to my art, I heard him turn off "Requiem". My face distorted into one of annoyance.

"I was listening to that," I thought. I quickly put the thought aside when I heard him enter the room below ours and begin playing his guitar.

I begin drawing what I saw to the rhythm of his song. I finished quickly with his help. I took the pad down and carefully removed the picture from it. I blew the extra dust off it, leaving a clean looking piece of incredibly inspired art. I smiled. Most of the stress in my life had escaped into this picture. Everything was suddenly calm. A light breeze swept through the trees and blew my hair. I slid the door open and took the picture to the desk in the bedroom. It was staying there until I figured out where I was going to put it. Or if I was even going to keep it.

Still in the sheet, I tiptoed downstairs. As I turned the corner at the base of the stairs, I could clearly hear Christian playing. I approached the room to see him sitting in the bay window in just a pair of jeans.

Suddenly, I had another inspiration.

"Baby?"

Startled, Christian almost dropped his guitar as he slid out of the window.

"Hi."

"All I get is 'hi'?!"

"You startled me. I couldn't think of anything else to say. You look like an angel."

"No I don't." Maybe I did. I was wrapped in a white sheet, with extraordinary long brown curls tumbling down my back. Maybe not angel. More like Greek Goddess.

"Could you come with me?"

"Sure," he said, putting his guitar down.

"No!" I jumped. "Bring that with."

Christian looked at me inquisitively, but reached for the guitar and followed me back upstairs.

I looked at him as he stood out on the balcony, in just jeans.

"You're missing something," I said.

"Excuse me?" he asked, staring at me incredulously.

"I'll be right back."

I returned to the balcony with a cowboy hat. Silently, I moved him to the edge of the balcony, forcing him to sit on the ledge, with his back against the house. His left leg was bent up on the balcony, as his right leg steadied himself by hanging, his toes just touching the floor beneath us. I handed him the guitar and told him to play. As he began to play I tilted the cowboy hat down a bit, just enough that you could barely see his expressive eyes. The sun was beginning to set. The lighting behind him was perfect. The oranges and reds of autumn made his post-summer tan stand out even more. His toned abs rippled as he played. After admiring him for a moment, I sat down and went to work.

He played the whole time I drew. Every curve, I knew exactly. I knew what it felt like beneath my finger tips. I could do this from memory if I had to. But I wanted to look at him. Before me was this sexual being, playing random guitar notes, or what could have been a song. I wasn't exactly focused on that. I was focused on the muscles of his arms that tensed each time he'd strum. I watched the quickness of his fingers, imagining what the would feel like on me, knowing he plays me better than he plays the guitar. I watched as his eyes closed as he listened to his own music. I noticed him breathing in the scents around him, feeling nature wrap around him.

With his eyes closed, I finished. I stared at him for a minute or two... watching his every movement.

"I'm done," I finally said.

He stopped playing, and set the guitar against the door to our bedroom. He walked behind me, wrapping his strong arms around me, his chest pressing against my thinly clothed back.

"Is that what I look like?"

"Why? What's wrong?" I could feel the tears well up in my eyes. He hated it.

"This is amazing. You have this type of talent, and you haven't touched this easel since we moved in. Why not?" I could feel a sense of anger coming from within him.

"I never have time. Between work, and the house, and you. There's just no time."

"Baby, for something like this, you make time. You're far too good at it not to."

I blushed at his compliment. The tears came free-flowing now as he stood in front of me, his hands resting on my shoulders. All the stress had escaped me. Everything, from the hassle of moving in to the house and unpacking, to handling work and the changes going on there, to Christian working long hours. It suddenly all dissipated into my art, into Christians fingertips. I could feel it moved from me through the house, to the ground, to a place far, far away where I didn't have to feel it anymore.

As the sun finally set behind the trees on the lake, the coolness of autumn was felt. Without the warmth of the sun, the temperature dropped from a warm seventy-something to what couldn't have been much above forty. I shivered slightly at the new found chill. Christian wiped my tears and stood me up, taking me by the hand and led me into the house.

I put the sheet back on the bed and put my robe on.

"Go downstairs," he said behind me. "I'll bring in everything from outside and then start on dinner."

I slowly walked downstairs, the hurriedness that I had felt earlier had escaped me. Time stood still for me now. Instead of turning right to go down the hallway to the kitchen, I turned left and entered our living room. I'd always admired this room. It had plush carpeting, which made you feel as though you were walking on clouds, all over except for in front of the fireplace. The large wood-burning fireplace was surrounded by exquisite hardwood flooring covered partly by a bearskin rug. There was a bit of slate just in front of the place itself to prevent damage to the floor itself. Above that was a monstrous plasma TV, put there by a very persistent Christian. There were multiple, huge comfortable sofas, love seats, and chairs that you could fall into and never get out of because you just didn't want to, it was perfect for entertaining. It was by far the warmest room in the house.

I crossed the large room to the fireplace, finding the tile extremely cold. I heard Christian moving back and forth between the balcony and the bedroom as I lit kindling and old newspapers in the fireplace. I placed the first log on the fire and by the time Christian had come downstairs, it had caught and was blazing. For kicks, I placed another one in.

Christian walked in, still in just his jeans, and cuddled up with me on the bearskin rug.

"You are such a pyromaniac!" he said, tickling my sides.

I turned quickly and pushed him onto his back, covering him with my body.

"Pyro or not, I was cold and needed some warmth."

"Well that's what I'm here for."

"No." I said, looking into his eyes with a smile. "You're here to make my meals for me!"

"Oh really?" he asked with a mild amount of shock in his voice.

I simply nodded with a smile.

"Well in that case, I suppose I better get to it!"

With that he carefully slid me off his body onto the bearskin rug and exited the room. I turned to face the fire, when suddenly I was enveloped in a warm blanket. I jumped and twisted my neck quickly to see Christian kneeling behind me.

"I didn't want you to get cold while I was gone."

My eyes closed as I kissed him on his soft lips, feeling his tongue gently snake it's way into my mouth. I smiled into the kiss and slowly pulled away. With my eyes still closed I told him to go before it was too late and we were too tired to eat.

I watched him walk back through the entranceway and heard him enter the kitchen. I placed another log onto the fire and curled up with my blanket on the bearskin rug, and shut my eyes.

When my eyes reopened, my flames were about to expire. I could hear Christian singing in the kitchen and the scent of apples engulfed me. I quietly placed another log in the fire and tiptoed my way past the stairs and down the hall to the kitchen. Christian either knew I had fallen asleep or thought I couldn't hear him. He never, ever sang. Not like this. I wish he would though, I loved his voice.

"All that I am, all that I ever was, is here in your perfect eyes. They're all I can see, I don't know where, confused about how as well. I just know that these things will never change for us at all.

I slipped into the kitchen and joined him.

"If I lay here, if I just lay here."

He stopped suddenly, embarrassed, and turned to face me. I walked to towards where he was standing, and he pulled me to him, wrapping himself around me.

"Would you lie with me and just forget the world?" we both sang.

"I love you Brianna."

I looked up, into dark eyes that consumed my very being. His eyes captivated me. I grew weak for a moment but was supported by his arms.

"I love you too, Christian."

I regained my bearings and released myself from his arms and sat at the kitchen table. I looked over at him expectantly.

"It's coming, Bree, relax!"

"I'm hungry! All I had all day were these horrible cinnamon pancakes made from some gross batter that I found in the fridge," I mocked.

"Well if you didn't like those then you're probably not going to like my apple-stuffed pork chops."

My mouth watered. I watched as he pulled them from the oven, the smell was overwhelming. Apple-stuffed pork chops are one of the few foods I would love to eat every day for the rest of my life. They're delicious. But this was the first time Christian was making them. Nervous didn't begin to describe how I felt.