One Night By The SeaA Story by Riss RykerThat magical moment when you meet the love of your life..Gwendolyn peered out the windows facing the sea, hearing the waves wash the shore with a soft whoosh...whoosh...whoosh. She watched the sea heave gently up and down like some great, watery beast breathing in and out. Gazing out across its great expanse, she saw a ray of moonshine shimmering long and wrinkly, like a bright path to distant lands. If only she could walk across the moon’s reflection and meet the man of her dreams in one of those distant lands. Last night’s date was so unbelievably ridiculous, she had to laugh afterwards. Philip was a tall, cadaver of a man with ham-hock hands that trespassed her person from the moment she got into his Jeep. No flowers, no opening of doors or chaste kisses by the moonlight, just a constant battle to say no without actually saying it. She mentally crossed Phillip off her list of potential soul-mates. Her reflection in the window revealed a petite, yet voluptuous figure. Her breasts were bountiful, legs long and smooth, and her wavy, auburn hair fell in generous golden waves down the middle of her back. There was no doubt in her mind she was beautiful, yet still, the men she’d been meeting lately couldn’t seem to get past the first half an hour without hinting at their main objective. Sex. Ad nauseum. Walking over to the mirror in the bathroom, she inspected her face. Not too shabby, she thought as she tried to see what men saw in her. Was it her large, darkly-lashed eyes that blinked back in hazel shades of gold and green? Or maybe her small nose lightly sprayed with freckles? A generous mouth, endowed with full ruby red lips? “Damn it!” she exclaimed aloud, frustrated. Walking back to the window, she sought counsel by the moonlight, the waves, asking the powers that be to guide her soulmate to her. She wanted to be courted properly, like in all of the romance novels she’d read. She wanted a dozen roses to arrange on her dining room table, or a night out at the ballet. She wanted to dance a slow, tender dance as her love held her in his arms and whispered sweet nothings in her ear. She wanted…. A movement outside near the water’s edge pulled her out of her reverie. Was that a figure she saw? Yes, out near where the water met the moonlit shore, a lone figure stood as if it had come from the sea itself. Getting out her binoculars, she adjusted the sights until she could clearly see a man in dark clothing as he stood at the water’s edge, then proceeded to walk in. Alarmed, she watched with growing concern as he kept walking deeper, until the water reached his chest. Tossing the binoculars on the bed, she quickly threw on her shoes, racing out the door and down the wooden steps that led to the beach. What was he thinking? No one swam in this area because of the dangerous riptides. If you didn’t know how to swim across them instead of trying to fight through them, you would be carried far out to sea and in all likelihood, drown. Keeping an eye on the dark figure, she kicked off her shoes, her toes gripping the cooling sand as she ran quickly to the water’s edge. There! She saw just his head as the riptide gripped him in its insidiuos grip, dragging him out with it. Without a moments hesitation, she dove in, the icy waters of the Atlantic making her gasp in shock. A strong swimmer from growing up on the shores of the sea, she let the riptide take her swiftly to him, where she proceeded to grab him by the back of the shirt. “Please! she gasped, “Don’t fight me, I don’t want to drown,” she told the panicked man. “Trust me, please. Relax your body.” Instructing him to lay on his back in a dead man’s float, she fought through the riptide by cutting across instead of fighting against it. Once she felt the grip of it’s powerful undercurrent release them, she side-stroked slowly back to the shore. Chest heaving with exhaustion, her toes finally touched sand. With her last vestiges of strength, she pulled him up on shore, collapsing in a trembling heap along side of him. Her teeth chattered, goosebumps making her skin ridged with the chill. The man lay still on the sand, except for the quick rise and fall of his chest. She watched as it slowed, taking in his features while his eyes were shut. What lashes on those eyes! They lay on his cheeks like soft, dark feathers against his pale skin. And those lips! Full and masculine, she felt an irresistible urge to lay her lips on them, then blushed at her own passion. Though not a fan of long-haired men, she found his long, curly locks enticingly gorgeous. His eyes opened, and for the second time that evening, she blushed furiously at his raised eyebrow. “See anything you like?” he growled in a deep, husky voice. Pulling her robe together aound her, she fired back, “Of course not! I was just making sure that your foolishness didn’t hurt you in anyway, sir. Besides, you’re not my type.” “Why did you save me ? No one asked you to swim out there, you little fool.” he said, sitting up slowly. “If I wanted rescuing, I wouldn’t have gone out there in the dark by myself with a riptide sign in plain sight, now, would I have?” Now she was spitting mad. How dare he! She could have drowned herself! Standing up, she gave him a scathing look before she stalked back up the beach to the steps. He called her back and she walked back up to him, looking right into his eyes. “Shhhh...Don't worry about it!’ she said softly, “next time I won’t stop you!” “Wait! Don’t go, I’m sorry!” he said, standing up to follow. “Please!” That stopped her. Halfway up the stairs she turned to face the man heading in her direction. He was even taller than she previously thought. His wide shoulders slightly slumped from the weight he carried in his heart. She wondered what the weight was. “Please, I didn’t mean what I said down there,” he said, “I’m sorry for my rudeness. My name is Christopher, Christopher Lincoln.” Climbing the rest of the steps to meet her, he held out his hand. Gwendolynn’s eyes turned soft, giving her an angelic look that made him shiver. Was she an angel? “My name’s Gwendolynn, Gwen. Apology accepted, Christopher Lincoln,” she smiled and his heart skipped a beat. “We should go in the house and get out these wet clothes…” realizing what she’d just said, she froze, blushing wildly. “I can’t believe I just said that.” Christopher laughed with delight at the beautiful, blushing creature before him. She joined him, feeling happy to have made him laugh. He was devilishly handsome when he smiled, and she wanted to see it again. “I can at least offer you a cup of coffee, seeing as I’ve already asked you to take your clothes off!” she teased. Somehow her arm found itself hooked around his in camaraderie as they climbed the steps to her house on the hill. She watched as he threw his head back in laughter, his hair curling sweetly in wet ringlets, his clothes smelling of the sea. Christopher didn’t understand what was happening. How could he be laughing after just attempting suicide? He must be dead and dreaming, and this must be an angel next to him. He caught a whiff of perfume, a rich sweetness like how lilacs must be if dipped in gold. Her thick, reddish tresses had a life of their own as the ocean breeze lifted a strand and trailed it softly across his face. It felt so natural, her arm through his, their laughter that went together like cream and coffee. The way her eyes smiled and danced when she looked at him made him feel like the center of her world, and he wanted to be. Her home was earthy and warm just as he’d envisioned. With odors of cinnamon and sandlewood, and littered with soft cushiony chairs. It made him feel as though he’d found and old, cherished teddy tucked away on a shelf. Safe, cozy, and well loved. As Gwendolynn put on a pot of coffee, she couldn’t help but wonder what was happening here. This perfect stranger sitting and having coffee and laughing with her as if they were long lost friends, reunited. His deep, hearty laugh made her tingle with happiness. As they sat wrapped in soft blankets sipping hot coffee, she saw his brow furrow as he sat lost in thought. “A penny?” she said softly. Setting his cup down, he looked deep into her eyes trying find something insincere. He knew the saying, that the eyes were the windows to the soul. Hers were flawless, seeking, and honest. “What is this?” he asked, his eyes beseeching. “Us?” she said, knowing what he meant. “Yes. Us. What are we doing?” his blue eyes were smoldering. “I feel something really important here.” “Well, I’m no expert on the matter, trust me,” she said earnestly, “but if I were to guess, I’d say Within the forty-five minutes since we met, we've fallen in love.” “Is that what this is?” he asked her, “If so, then I’ve never been in love, because this,” he held out his hand to her, “is something special. Right now, I feel as if I’ve come home. Here, with you, in this house.” Tears sparkled like happy diamonds in her eyes. “Then stay. Stay with me.” He kneeled on the floor next to her, taking both of her small hands in his. For a minute, he just savored her closeness, her smell, and the feel of her soft skin. “You saved me,” he told her, “I don't know how or why, and I know this sounds really cliche, but this feels. It’s like destiny in its finest form. I wanted to die today, Gwen. Now I feel as if want to live. I want your presence in my life forever! Marry me, Gwen. Just say yes. I know it's crazy, I know it's unheard of, but you make me feel like a whole person.” Tears fell freely as Gwendolynn looked up at him, her heart in her beautiful eyes, she was drawn close to him. “Yes,” she whispered, ‘Oh, yes.” Together they stood by the window, heads together, hearts fierce with love. The ocean waves soft whoosh...whoosh...whoosh kissed shore in tune with their heartbeats. © 2015 Riss Ryker |
Stats
333 Views
1 Review Added on March 1, 2015 Last Updated on March 1, 2015 Tags: soulmate, true love, forever, love at first sight AuthorRiss RykerAmsterdam, NYAboutRiss Ryker is a self proclaimed introvert, a dreamer, and believes in kindness to others. She loves to grow flowers, herbs, and hang out with her three dogs and her python named Blossom. A new writer .. more..Writing
|