Succumb (To The Night)

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"Confessions of hope
entrenched in your eyes
your smile gives a signal…
Above and beyond
We're soaring and high
It's all about you….
Let's succumb to the night…"

-'Succumb to the Night' by DT8 Project

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I.

"Confessions of hope
entrenched in your eyes
your smile gives a signal…"

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I hated the idea of leaving you. For me, every second of that trip back to drop you off at school was pure misery.

And for good reason.

You nearly died in that god-forsaken desert and I almost never got a chance to tell you that I love you. For several agonizing seconds, I thought the most important thing in my life—you—had been ripped from me, all plans of a future together shattered in an instant. We had always discussed and dreamt of a someday—a time when we openly and freely exchanged pledges of love, a time when we lived together, and, though I never dared to mention it to you back then, a time when we were married. All of these things I assumed we would get to sooner or later.

I now know it's something I absolutely cannot take for granted or assume will happen, because that "someday" can evaporate in the blink of an eye. One moment, I'm watching you run towards Optimus, the next, I'm crying hysterically and you're lying awkwardly, covered in cuts and scorch marks, eyes closed, heart unresponsive to the defibrillator. It's a memory, filled with an overwhelming feeling of loss and emptiness, which I wish I could forget, yet somehow continue to relive daily. The disturbing flashes of fear, pain, suffering….and death, still haunt the edges my consciousness.

I may finally be satisfied that you'll recover from your injuries, both mentally and physically, but that doesn't mean I was fully willing or prepared to leave you. Let's face it: you need me to around to keep you out of trouble and safe….or at least relatively out of trouble and safe. After seeing what can happen to you when I am around, I'm worried about you and your safety now more than ever. That's part of the reason I was so distraught and reluctant to let you go back to school. It seems like just when I have you by my side and out of harm's way , without worries of war or death, circumstances force us apart.

We've talked about me moving to a place by your college and I resisted in the past, something which wasn't easy. Believe me, the only thing keeping me from joining you on the East Coast was the desire to keep a watchful eye on my dad. But still, every time I rejected you, it pained me inside because whenever you've asked to join you, you've always had such an earnest expression; the hopeful anticipation in your eyes and that nervous, cautious smile begging me to say yes.

Now, though, I won't turn you down. I have to be near to you. I need you close to me, if only to reassure myself that you are okay. It all sounds very needy and awfully un-Mikaela like, but I know what's important in life now: you…and only you. Life must be lived to its fullest each day, as we are guaranteed nothing. And for me personally, I believe that completion and happiness can only be entirely achieved with you.

It's a big step for the both of us, but one we are more than ready for.

That's why I waste no time during this, our first video chat date—which is finally happening, I might add—and begin the conversation with a casual "so…I was looking at apartments near your dorm…"

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II.

"Above and beyond
We're soaring and high
It's all about you…"

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I spot you from a mile away, thanks to the smitten look on your face and the flowers in your hand. All my fatigue from that coast to coast flight instantly fades, the mere sight of you having rejuvenating powers. My weary legs and cramped muscles, stiff from sitting for hours, spring to life, carrying me closer to you.

Somehow, I'm not surprised you came to greet me, even though I specifically told you not to. Obviously I need to do a better job of training you, as we can't have you constantly skipping class just to welcome your girlfriend at the airport. For this misbehavior, there must be some form of punishment, or you'll never learn.

Hoping to catch you by surprise and wipe that mushy, infatuated smile from your features, I consider possible rebukes in my mind, adding a stern expression for show. Still several steps away, I see your cheery face falter slightly, providing me with a twisted moment of enjoyment that can come only from needlessly torturing your boyfriend.

My face twitches slightly, the corners of my mouth fighting the urge to tilt upward, and straight away your usual mirth returns. Damn. My façade lasts just a few steps, my utter delight at you disregarding my instructions not to come too hard to mask. A sudden thought occurs: perhaps I have trained you well after all if you've learned when no means yes. All pretense gone, I swiftly cover the last few steps and press myself against your chest, my arms wrapping around your neck and my lips crushing against yours. My welcoming flowers fall to the ground, but neither of us care—the real gift is you.

No words are needed—the kiss serves that purpose, expressing everything from "hello" to "I love you and I'm so glad you're here". The physical release that comes the moment that our mouths meet hungrily is indescribable. All my problems, worries, and thoughts fade to black, as the utter euphoria of being reunited with you flows through me. As the kiss deepens, I feel like I'm flying, as if my feet are being pulled off the ground, my body as light as a feather. No longer am I in the airport—I'm soaring to our special place where all that exists is you and I.

As we pull slowly apart, breathing haggard and uneven, I regain awareness of our surroundings, finally realizing just how public our little display was and how I little I care that others saw it. My nerves are still buzzing, my skin hot and tingly, without a doubt the result of being completely intoxicated with your being.

"Hi…" I trail off, not trusting my current ability to say anything more.

"Hey." Apparently you are feeling the same way, your reply like a soft, verbal carress. We turn towards baggage claim hand in hand, flowers forgotten, all my senses still entranced by you.

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III.

"Let's succumb to the night…"

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Sighing contentedly, my desires satiated several times over, I lie languidly on the air mattress. It's a strange feeling—despite the pure ecstasy and vitality still pumping through my veins, I want to remain as inert and inactive as possible. My body, still humming pleasantly, is slick with sweat and I savor the feel of the cool fall air from the open window against my feverish skin. As I come down from my high, I reach out reluctantly to gather up my hurriedly discarded clothes. It's annoyingly difficult to get everything back on, but it's not because of the darkness. My limbs are still feeling like jelly, a common after-effect of your loving ministrations and their damned tendency to reduce me to a pile of goo. All things considered, though, it's a very small price to pay if it means I get to keep loving you.

Fatigue is rapidly catching up to me, the long first day of unpacking and the time spent getting reacquainted with you having depleted all of my energy. The hushed sound of nearing, padded footsteps tug at the edge of my consciousness as I pull the sheet up past my shoulders and snuggle tiredly into the pillow. Peering out into the darkness with hooded eyes, my gaze instantly distinguishes the familiar male form from the myriad of boxes, some half open, and scattered personal effects. I roll back over onto my back as the figure approaches the empty side of the stopgap bed.

Suddenly, I find myself being bounced upwards and towards the edge of the bed, as my bedmate flops carelessly onto the air mattress.

"Sam…watch it," I groan, my displeasure at almost ending up on the floor evident.

"Sorry babe," you reply, the night hiding the sheepish look on your face. "Forgot about the whole air mattress thing."

"I don't know why we didn't take care of that right away. First thing tomorrow we'll have to get the bed set up properly, headboard, spring mattress and all."

"Well maybe we would have had time maybe if you hadn't of attacked me right after—"

"Shut up," I interrupt tiredly, not wanting to be drawn into a conversation. Still, I can't help smiling into my pillow, pleasantly remembering my supposed "attack". However excellent and pleasurable that may have been, though, I'll be damned if I let you blame me for us not setting up the bed. "I don't recall you complaining at all when I did."

"When your tongue is halfway down my throat, it's kind of hard to comp—"

"Sam!" As much as I normally enjoy the banter, I'm actually a bit embarrassed by it. It makes me sound too much like some lovey-dovey, besotted teen that can barely make it past the door before she starts undressing her boyfriend. And even though that's exactly what happened to us this afternoon, it'll be a cold day in hell before I ever admit to it.

"Sorry. I'll stop now," you chuckle, as I feel you inch towards me, your arm seeking to wrap around my waist.

"S'okay," I yawn as I automatically turn onto my side and move my leg in between yours, my body fully in tune with yours. Our alignment is perfect, as if we were fitted for each other. With our contact maximized, your body heat begins to warm my now cooled skin from the cold air still filtering in.

"'Night Mikaela. I love you," you murmur into my neck, the feel of your hot breath sending shivers down my spine.

"Love you too…" I respond somnolently, already half-asleep. As I drift off, I am filled with a wonderful sense of peace, comforted by your protective hand resting on my stomach.