Silence

You hear the waves crash against the shore. Your super-natural hearing picks up other smaller noises too. The buzzing of insects, the flutter of their miniscule wings, the hum of the refrigerator and most importantly; her heartbeat, and her calm and slow breathing.

And nothing else.

No invasive thoughts. No clamor of human life.

Just her breath and heartbeat, and for the first time in ninety odd year the only thoughts in your head are your own.

And it makes you feel like a normal boy for the first time in a century.

In her sleep, she clings tighter to you, and you pull her closer. Your wife.

Yes, just a normal man with his lover, his wife, after spending a quiet (blessedly quiet) evening in.

It had been everything you could've dreamed of.

After a lazy day of lounging on the beach, you came home and made her dinner. She ate in the main room on the floor surrounded by thousands of lit candles. Her hair tousled by the sand and surf. Her nose bearing just the slightest hint of red. As you cooked, she read to you; e.e. cummings. You alternated between listening carefully; giving your opinion on the verses when prompted, and just listening to her steady voice. As steady as her heartbeat.

She had her first taste of French food. You fed her rich cuisine that you spent hours reading and re-reading and experimenting with Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" in order to perfect. She moaned throughout the whole meal. You fed her chocolate torte with your fingers and she declared it 'the best thing ever' before licking your digits clean. She sipped red wine and you kissed her tinted lips.

After a late dinner and more e.e. cummings, you brought her to bed and made love to her. When you and she were spent, she sighed, whispered her never ending love for you and pressed her body close before drifting off to sleep.

It was the perfect quiet evening in.

Just you and her and love.

End