This is a somewhat sequel to Untitled. I got inspired by all your great replies and music.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Archive: Anywhere. Just keep my name attached.
I sit in the front pew, my husband on my left and my son on my right. I clasp both their hands as I bow my head and repeat what the priest is saying.
My words are mumbled and I close my eyes just to feel tears sting the inside of my eyelids. It's been too long since I have remembered the words.
I feel my husbands hand go to the back of my neck and gently rub there. He, for some reason beyond me, knows when I need comforting.
Knowing all the words to the prayers and hymns, he sings along. Stands when told to, gets down on his knees. I feel awkward doing that, in the middle of the two most important men in my life.
Glancing around, I see two Secret Service Agents positioned at the entrance, looking out of place with their dark suits and sunglasses. I have gotten used to seeing them where ever we go, but it stills gets to me how they *have* to be there.
My husband rubs my neck again softly and I lick my lips. His arm goes around my shoulder in an automatic way. He's still listening to the priest intently.
Breaking my attention away from the man, I begin to stare at the stained glass windows with wonder. They have an odd beauty to them that I love.
An odd beauty. The same thing I see about my husband. He can be the biggest jackass in the world and then be the sweetest guy. I can be angry with him and then he just...walks in the room and stares there, looking at me with a lost look.
I hate him for that.
He grabs my hand and guides my son and I outside. I brace myself for being escorted to the car sitting right out front, waiting for us. I see our driver in the front seat through the tinted windows staring intently ahead of him and wonder if he has a wife or girlfriend. I don't know why I thought of that.
My husband is staring at me. I don't blame him, I'm just standing there, waiting for nothing. I smile to reassure him that *nothing* is wrong and go to his waiting arm.
Smoothing his cuffs, he waits silently as I enter the backseat first and then my son. Colin, our son, sits across from us, grabbing the book that he left open. Smiling when he saw me staring, he leaned over and kissed my temple before going back to his page.
Colin looks like his father. That odd beauty that I can't get over. They're so...dark against my fair skin. Shuddering slightly, I lean closer to John, trying to catch his warmth and smile when I smell the Old Spice. Laying my head on his chest, I know that he is looking down at me now. I rarely do this.
I can't help it. I can catch his warmth, why not his beauty?
Okay, was that weird or no? Just tell me. I gotta know. :-) I love you guys. :Sniff: