Snippet #1477617

Leo had scooted his desk forwards, and stacked the heels of his feet on top.His right arm had folded across his hard flat stomach with his left bent elbow pinning it down. His hand was covering the side of his face, with two fingers aligned over his pulsating temple. Through the shades he wore, Deirdre could not see for sure if he was looking back at him. He did indeed watch her, following her all the way until she took a seat.

He became lost in thought, tilting his chair and balancing it on the two back legs and rocking it carefully back and forth. He stared towards Deirdre. Thoughts drifting towards the past, seldom did he go near that thought, but seeing her alone amongst the room of nearly thirty students--it was difficult not to go back to those times.

One memory in particular that he kept near his heart still before everything became balderdash, muddled and murky. It was fay at the beach, just the two of them--alone. The light of day was failing miserably, as though the even the sun's warm rays--like tired arms, sank gradually beneath the horizon of deep blue waters. The Charger was parked in the lot up on the hill. The two of them were down in the sandy beachhead. She was in a two piece. He remembered well, because how could he ever forget the way her alabaster skin felt to his hands touch?

With the sand clinging to their bodies from their earlier play in the lukewarm waters. The wrestled, rolling over and over. One pinning the other, or trying to at least. He then would pick her up simply, pulling over one broad shoulder and carry her out into the water where he threw her into the hastily becoming frigid waters. When she had resurface, her hair slicked back and clinging to her freshly drenched body. He simply laughed before she came after him. He then began to simply turnaround before she jumped on his back and brought him backwards into the cold water with her.

After was all said and down however, they lie on their towels on the beach in the end. Facing each other. She had her head laid against one of her arms. He had his on head the same way, his eyes looking over her. His other hand running up and down her bare leg slowly, and along her arms. One thing she always said she liked--he was like a personal space heater, he ran hot constantly. In this moment, perhaps forgotten by her but not by him, he'd use it to dry her skin of the cold water that still clung to her. He'd use this small bit of infinity of eternity--deep in his heart, to stare at something he thought he believed in.

He didn't believe in much. Not the world. Not the stars. Nothing but her for that moment when everything was so clearly cut out.