Kiss Me One Last Time - Fictiom

I’m pouring raspberry iced tea into wine glasses; we’re out of wine and I’m feeling an urge to be sophisticated.

Three ice cubes for him, none for me. Inexplicably, I've never liked ice in my drinks.

I look up, my gaze falling on Tommy. We are in the middle of watching Dark Shadows, since apparently it’s a crime that I hadn’t yet seen it. It is entertaining, but really, I’m only watching it for Tommy. He lives vicariously through Tim Burton and Johnny Depp, I think.

I take the wine glasses in my hands and close the short distance between our tiny kitchen and the couch, setting the drinks on the coffee table. In my absence, Tommy has stretched out to occupy the entire length of the couch, which gives me no choice but to lie down on top of him. I am more than happy to do so.

As I gently climb over him, his arm comes up around my shoulders, pulling me down next to him. His head turns and his stunning blue eyes meet mine. He smiles and I momentarily forget how to breathe.

We have been married for a year and a half now, and we see each other constantly, but somehow I am still blown away by his looks. He is easily the most attractive man I have ever seen, and I can’t help but notice that every time I look at him. On top of that, I am hopelessly in love with him. So things have worked out pretty well.

My hand is resting on his, and my head falls onto his chest as he strokes my hair.

Johnny Depp is now sprinting dramatically from whoever is pursuing him. Tommy is watching intently. I hate to distract him, but he’s seen this before and I can’t help myself. I press myself firmly against him and kiss him.

He looks at me, grinning sweetly. “What was that for?”

“Do I need a reason?” I ask softly, and kiss him again.

The look in his eyes is incredible, and makes me remember the first time he looked at me like that.

We had been dating for six months, and Tommy had just driven me home from an amazing dinner. We were standing outside the door to my apartment, trying to find the willpower to tear ourselves away from each other. I thanked him for the date, he complimented my dress for about the twentieth time, and then he kissed me. Now, we had kissed before that, but there was something else in that one. Something that made it... intoxicating. We pulled away, and then I kissed him back, knowing it was late and I needed to say goodnight. Three fantastic kisses later, I managed to pry myself away from him and unlock the door. We said goodnight, and right as I was stepping through the doorway, I turned and said,

“Kiss me one last time.”

And that was when this breathtaking expression graced his features. A mixture of surprise, utter delight, and one other thing. I didn’t recognize it then, but I know it well now.

It was love. Pure and honest love.

And that’s the look he’s giving me right now. It’s absolutely glorious.

He kisses me one more time, and then his gaze falls back on the glowing television screen. I don’t mind. His thumb is tracing tiny circles on my arm. I would be content to stay like this for days.

However, before I know it, and much too soon, the movie is over. It is close to midnight and we should both be getting to bed so we can get up for work in the morning.

I start to lift myself off Tommy, but he pulls me back down and envelops me in his arms. I smile into his chest. He smells like rain.

We stay like that for a while, and then he stands up.

“All right sweet, I’m going to bed,” he says in his sultry baritone, turning off the TV and placing the untouched wine glasses back on the kitchen counter.

“I’ll be right behind you,” I reply as he comes over to kiss me goodnight. “I love you.” I mean it with every fiber of my being.

He smiles broadly. “I love you, too.” he says, then turns in the direction of our bedroom.

I sit for a moment, watching him. Then,

“Tommy?” I say.

He turns back to me.

“Kiss me one last time.”

He does.