Free as a Lily (M/F Romantic no sex)
 

Free as a Lily

She looked so beautiful as she knelt by the pool, motionless, letting a hand
trail slowly through the water, the lily pads drifting by, white flowers
dispersed by her gentle swirling hand.  She was at one with them, a lost white
flower, with lily pad eyes, damp with unwanted tears, her lips as moist as the
light blue water in which the lilies sat.  

Lifting her head she could observe water fowl moving on their own sea, a swan
moving the plants majestically in its wake, all the time, the occasional ripple
in the water revealing the frantic paddling that underlay their apparent
serenity.  Sometimes she felt that like the swan, the ducks and the moor hens
she was paddling frantically to get nowhere.

She raised her head away from that frustrating thought.  Her eyes were fixed on
the distant horizon, looking up at the blue skies, being slowly covered by
puffy grey cloud as the weather slowly changed.  Everything changed she
thought.  Even he had changed and yet she knew he was still there waiting for
her, ready to do the right thing, the gentlemanly thing.  

He was so different and so unique in his gentleness, yet sometimes she wished
that he would be just like the others, just like the brutes of her past.  Then
her head would not get crowded with these feelings and she would not have to
walk away from him to create the space that he needed.  She withdrew her hand
wet and dripping from the waters and looked down at her wet fingers, absorbed
and pensive.

He stood in the shade of the tree, one arm raised, clinging onto the thick
branches looking across the grass at her bending form, wondering what had
brought her here again to his pool in the park.  He gazed at the soft curve of
her exposed thigh, wondering what it would be like to touch and to feel the
delicate fabric and reaching an end to touch her warm flesh again.  She had run
from him again and he just did not understand it.  

It was not as if he did not give her the space that she said he needed.  He was
always thinking of her he felt.  He heard the oppressive crack of distant
thunder and gazed up into the sky, distracted from her presence by the
gathering storm, watching lightning fork across the sky in the distance.  She
loved storms he knew and they would be in this stand off forever he was
certain.

The first drops of rain began to patter down, splashing into the pool,
spattering her cheek and melding with the tears that he could not have noticed
from the distance.  She looked up, grateful to the elements for effacing out
her worries and drowning her fears in the steady waters now trickling down her
cheek.  

Her dress was thin and she realized that she would soon be soaked through as
the stone surround to the pool, turned from a dry sun-parched warmth to an
adjunct of the pools moisture itself.  She closed her eyes and breathed in
deeply, smelling the refreshing purity of moisture on dried earth.

The grass was soaked through now and he could feel an uncomfortable dripping
down the back of his neck.  Yet he did not move for he was too absorbed in the
water dripping through her hair and down her elegant neck, watching her absorb
the water like the earth, the grass and the stones around her.  He remained
there, fascinated by the sight of her almost unable to move, until she turned
and made a headlong rush for the park shelter, as he knew she would.

He crouched in the downpour, huddling in the dripping leaves, fascinated by her
stillness and waiting.  He knew that she would suddenly rise in an explosive
yelp and would rush towards him like an over excited child.  He wanted to be
there for her as she rushed laughing and yelling across the slippery grass to
shelter.  

He wanted to be the one to gallantly take off his jacket and drape it around
her shoulders, holding her to stop her from slipping as they looked childlike
into one another's eyes.  He wanted to be the one who would cup her chin and
hold her face up to his in the half-light, waiting for the storm to abate,
tasting her lips as he held her close to him, a fragrant lily in his arm.

And she knew that he was waiting there behind her, crouched in the shadows.
Without even turning towards him, she knew that he wanted to settle on her, to
feel her yielding to his touch, to have her surrender all her senses into his
protection.  and what would he offer -- a damp jacket to keep her warm? Warm
breathe on her lips that he would expect her to yield up to him.  

There again, perhaps with his patience and his regard for her he deserved that.
 It seemed, she smiled, that she should paddle over to him and kiss his cheek,
standing up on tiptoe and blinking artfully, knowing that although he had taken
her as his flower, to be cherished and protected, like the lilies, she could
break free whenever she wanted.