Wild Love at Christmas Eve

If we grow old together, help me to remember the catch in my voice when I faced this old world anew one Christmas Eve ...

Aflock in the town's tavern, my head a mix of love and merry. Downing my glass of Moscato, my head spinning with claustrophobia, I ripped away from the endless whir of clutches and kisses. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, I found relief in the welcome outside air.

Mildly numb after drinking, staring aimlessly at the sparkling tinsel swaying madly in the drift of breeze. Flooded with a daunting loneliness, that made me giddy with realisation. I was an agitated single woman, as frozen as the ice my glass, out of place at the couples' Christmas Eve party.

Venturing further up the cobble stoned pathway, passed the doorways of undiscovered life. The noise of wilderness: scattered, indecipherable voices, piping behind closed doors. Exotic accents, from places far away, pricking my ears to the sound.

A door flung open and out you stepped, setting my heart alight.

If time could freeze, it did that moment, rendering the walls the deep blue ice of my crystalised heart. My lonely blue world has suddenly expanded, shining its light on something alluring and new. If passion could break free from its chains, it did, awakening me for the first time in years.

For there you stood, your long brown hair battling the deep breeze, nearly escaping your pony tail. Those arms, so muscular and olive, reaching up high as you stretched, facing the cosmos above. The where and how of the world wrapped deeply within you, as you caught me staring and met your gaze. Your gorgeous golden eyes mirrored the star-lit universe above, setting my spirit alight.

That smile that uplifted the corners of your mouth; a cheeky grin that caught me in its drift and made me laugh. That rawness in me, allured by the breath of your stillness,; your depth that intrigued me. Your sexy French accent and the way that you spoke my name: Avril, with the roll of an r.

If spirits could speak, they would tell you that mine rose high that afternoon, almost double circling the air. A sign that the deep pounding of my desire was enough to catch and freeze for eternity. I was totally allured by the very presence and rawness of you, as you reached for my hand.

The assured nature of you, as you shared your spirit, Renauld, in that moment that you stepped closer to me; wiping rogue strands of my black hair away from my face. Your heat, your presence, my pounding soul. The sticky afternoon air. Do you remember how we merged with the breeze as you pressed your hips against mine and swayed steadily? Did the evocative jazz music, adrift in the wind, arouse you too?

Our secret silhouettes, pressing against blue stucco, our hands alive against each other's bare skin. Your tight, manly torso that stirred me deeply within. The world at pound with our intensity, away from the stares of familiar faces.

"Avril ..." That sexy voice of yours, your tongue against my ear. My body wild and at craze, as I turned to melt in your gaze.

To tug at our attraction and immerse it in my world, was natural. Your lips, soft and inviting, pressing easily against mine. The taste of your whisky mouth ripe and deep, whispering with the mysteries of your soul.

You were temporarily here, on merchant business, your boat anchored at my town's harbour. You might stay a couple of hours, a day, a week, you did not seemed to mind how long.

My hand clutching yours and facing the cobble anew. An exciting trek towards the harbour, faced with the waters of new treks, away from the over familiar.

Your boat, adrift with tinsel and the merry of a Christmas to come in its glory. Lighting the soft, romantic lanterns to invite in the love that both our drifted hearts had moored so deeply inside.

The sea, choppy beneath our wrapped state, at rhythm with our heat. My soul burned alight as I melted into your warmth, for that special moment of time. A gift you were to me, a healing of my soul, which had been discarded and avoided for so long.

As the night fell, you released the boat's anchor and we drifted across the sea, adorned by the sparking of stars. We shared our stories, our dreams, of a life beyond our reach, where we could forge our own identities. The stars were our glistening wayfind, towards our new utopia.

In momentum, adrift in the waters, connecting with you. My arms pulled you hungrily towards me, reviving my soul.

As Christmas Day dawned, you wrapped me in your arms, holding me close. We were ablaze with the glory of newfound life and love.