Post by maureenj on Jul 14, 2009 0:58:26 GMT -5
... You fall asleep to the sound of 5 incredible voices, but one voice among them stands out to you whether or not it carries the melody. Next thing you know, you're somewhere warm. You don't want to wake up, as it seems to be a lovely dream, so even when the area around your head suddenly starts to cool off, you keep your eyes closed and turn to bury your head deeper in to the pil... sand? At this, you can no longer help yourself and your eyes spring open. You're lying on a beautiful white sand beach, the sun is shining, and a man is standing between you and the sun, a concerned look on his face. As you rub the sleep from your eyes, careful not to get sand in them as you do so, you surreptitiously study your peculiar sun shade. A smooth voice, rising and falling much like the ocean waves a short distance away, breaks into your thoughts. "Is everything okay, ma'am?" Running a hand across your face one more time, you nod. "Yes, I think so... Except I don't know how I got here." You look up to meet his eyes and are stunned into momentary silence. The angular planes of his face, the strong jaw, the firm lips, the captivating eyes! They all capture your artist's eye and your fingers itch for a sketch pad and pencil. A small smile graces those lips as he extends a hand toward you. "Well, let's see if we can't get this straightened out, then, shall we? Me name is Keith." You reach out tentatively, still half certain that if you touch him, this lovely apparition will disappear. When his strong fingers wrap around yours and gently apply pressure in aid getting up, the first thought that goes through your head is that you must have died during the night, because this is heaven.
With his aid, you quickly gain your feet, only to sway dangerously for a moment before he steadies you against himself. "Woah, there! Take it easy for a minute, darlin'! Did you hit your head?" Taking comfort in depending on someone else's strength for a moment, you gently shake your head in an attmept to clear it. "I don't remember." You say in a voice right on the edge of a childish whine. He slowly and gently lifts a hand toward your head, but startled, you jump and hit your head on his chin. "Yow!" You say in unison before you start to sway again and your knees seem to lose all strength they had moments before. Though you can't see it, you can feel Keith shake his head once, quickly, before his hands are suddenly under your elbows and he's guiding you down to the sand.
When your head clears, you find that he has sat down behind you and you are gently reclined against his chest, his arms gently encircling you. You shift slightly, and his arms shift with you. You decide to take a chance and look up. This time, your head cooperates, and you retain your powers of speech when your eyes connect with his deep blue ones. "Alright there?" This time you can hear the concern in his voice as well as see it on his face. "I think so. I don't really know why a simple bump would do that, though..." He gives you a thoughtful look for a moment. "I'm going to check your head to see if that might give us an explanation, okay?" he asks. You blush a little, realizing that that was what he had intended to do before you cracked heads and mumble, "okay." The feeling that shoots through you as his nimble fingers first stroke your hair and then begin to go over every inch of your scalp is indescribable. You've never felt so cared-for since you were a little girl and your grandfather tucked you into bed,complete with the exchange of eskimo kisses. (rubbing noses, if you're not familiar with the term) The care he is taking not to tangle your hair and hurt you inadvertently is so tender that tears come to your eyes and only a major act of will keeps them from falling.
Suddenly, he finds a tender spot. "Ouch!" His free hand rubs yours gently as he quietly apologizes and even more gently explores the spot in question. "Feels like a minor bruise. It'll probably be a good idea to be careful brushing your hair for a few days, but other than that, you'll be fine." He quickly finishes his examination, but finds no other potential explanations. You timidly offer, "Maybe it was the heat?" He looks down into your eyes again and nods. "Yeah, that'd do it. Think you'll be okay to walk a little ways? I have a couple of water bottles over with my board." You quickly take stock of how you feel and reply, "I think so." At this, he helps you to sit up on your own and stands behind you once again, leaning down to help you to your feet. You make it to the vertical with no problems, and manage to stay steady on your feet, even when the sand shifts slightly beneath you. He looks you up and down, then offers his arm. It is only then that you realize that he is clad in a form-fitting black wetsuit, now covered with sand. Your face begins to heat, and you turn your attention to watching your step.
You make it the short distance and sit down in the shade offered by the volkswagon beetle you assume belongs to him. A surfboard stands leaning against the drivers door and he absentmindedly steadies it as he rummages around in the backseat for a minute before turning and tossing a cold water bottle into your lap. You can't help squealing a little in shock when the condensation on it soaks through your capris and hits your legs. "That's cold!" He grins and the world seems to light up. "Drink up, darlin'! It won't stay that way for long." You laugh a little at that and open the bottle to obey. The taste is like ambrosia after laying in the sun for God-knows how long. You quickly polish off the bottle while Keith disappears somewhere briefly, coming back clad in cut-off shorts and a baseball cap. You're starting to get sleepy again, and it's obvious he can see it and is a little worried about your proclivity to fall asleep anywhere. You hear him mutter to himself, "But I checked her head. It's not a concussion, so it should be okay for her to sleep. I hope." He pulls out a towel from next to the cooler, folds it up, sets it down beside himself as he sits down, and pats it. "This should be more comfortable a pillow than that sand was." You gratefully lay down there and fade into the dream realms. As you do, you once again feel his fingers combing gently through your hair and think to yourself, I hope this wasn't just the most marvelous dream ever...
With his aid, you quickly gain your feet, only to sway dangerously for a moment before he steadies you against himself. "Woah, there! Take it easy for a minute, darlin'! Did you hit your head?" Taking comfort in depending on someone else's strength for a moment, you gently shake your head in an attmept to clear it. "I don't remember." You say in a voice right on the edge of a childish whine. He slowly and gently lifts a hand toward your head, but startled, you jump and hit your head on his chin. "Yow!" You say in unison before you start to sway again and your knees seem to lose all strength they had moments before. Though you can't see it, you can feel Keith shake his head once, quickly, before his hands are suddenly under your elbows and he's guiding you down to the sand.
When your head clears, you find that he has sat down behind you and you are gently reclined against his chest, his arms gently encircling you. You shift slightly, and his arms shift with you. You decide to take a chance and look up. This time, your head cooperates, and you retain your powers of speech when your eyes connect with his deep blue ones. "Alright there?" This time you can hear the concern in his voice as well as see it on his face. "I think so. I don't really know why a simple bump would do that, though..." He gives you a thoughtful look for a moment. "I'm going to check your head to see if that might give us an explanation, okay?" he asks. You blush a little, realizing that that was what he had intended to do before you cracked heads and mumble, "okay." The feeling that shoots through you as his nimble fingers first stroke your hair and then begin to go over every inch of your scalp is indescribable. You've never felt so cared-for since you were a little girl and your grandfather tucked you into bed,complete with the exchange of eskimo kisses. (rubbing noses, if you're not familiar with the term) The care he is taking not to tangle your hair and hurt you inadvertently is so tender that tears come to your eyes and only a major act of will keeps them from falling.
Suddenly, he finds a tender spot. "Ouch!" His free hand rubs yours gently as he quietly apologizes and even more gently explores the spot in question. "Feels like a minor bruise. It'll probably be a good idea to be careful brushing your hair for a few days, but other than that, you'll be fine." He quickly finishes his examination, but finds no other potential explanations. You timidly offer, "Maybe it was the heat?" He looks down into your eyes again and nods. "Yeah, that'd do it. Think you'll be okay to walk a little ways? I have a couple of water bottles over with my board." You quickly take stock of how you feel and reply, "I think so." At this, he helps you to sit up on your own and stands behind you once again, leaning down to help you to your feet. You make it to the vertical with no problems, and manage to stay steady on your feet, even when the sand shifts slightly beneath you. He looks you up and down, then offers his arm. It is only then that you realize that he is clad in a form-fitting black wetsuit, now covered with sand. Your face begins to heat, and you turn your attention to watching your step.
You make it the short distance and sit down in the shade offered by the volkswagon beetle you assume belongs to him. A surfboard stands leaning against the drivers door and he absentmindedly steadies it as he rummages around in the backseat for a minute before turning and tossing a cold water bottle into your lap. You can't help squealing a little in shock when the condensation on it soaks through your capris and hits your legs. "That's cold!" He grins and the world seems to light up. "Drink up, darlin'! It won't stay that way for long." You laugh a little at that and open the bottle to obey. The taste is like ambrosia after laying in the sun for God-knows how long. You quickly polish off the bottle while Keith disappears somewhere briefly, coming back clad in cut-off shorts and a baseball cap. You're starting to get sleepy again, and it's obvious he can see it and is a little worried about your proclivity to fall asleep anywhere. You hear him mutter to himself, "But I checked her head. It's not a concussion, so it should be okay for her to sleep. I hope." He pulls out a towel from next to the cooler, folds it up, sets it down beside himself as he sits down, and pats it. "This should be more comfortable a pillow than that sand was." You gratefully lay down there and fade into the dream realms. As you do, you once again feel his fingers combing gently through your hair and think to yourself, I hope this wasn't just the most marvelous dream ever...