I did not move. I did not breathe. I simply sat there, her fingertips resting against the bone of my knee, and felt the terrible, exquisite weight of being this close to something I could never have.
Not waking—just a small, mammalian turn. Her hand slipped from her stomach and fell over the edge of the chaise. Her fingers brushed my knee. -ENG- Sleeping Cousin -RJ353254-
I never told her.
I found her on the wide screened-in porch. The lake beyond was black glass, and the only sound was the rhythmic, quiet scrape of a branch against the screen. Lena lay on the long wicker chaise, one arm thrown over her head, the other resting across her stomach. She was wearing a thin white tank top and shorts. Her mouth was slightly open. Asleep. I did not move
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Because the moment I spoke, the spell would break. She would wake, and the knowing would begin, and the summer would become something I had to apologize for. Not waking—just a small, mammalian turn
You are there.