Memory

Clutching onto the thick bedsheets, Adrian turned over on the cozy bed. The cold atmosphere was prominent even through 4 layers of clothing over his body

The constant chirping of birds, usually a welcoming sound, started to get on my nerves. I rolled over, searching for Anita next to me on the bed.

Empty.

I instantly shot back up and my eyes searched the room for her.

Anita wasn't curled up beside me. Instead, she stood at the opposite end of the room near a window, bathed in the morning light with her back turned to me. In her hands, glinting ominously, was a gun.

There stood Anita, sporting a white tank top, her skin glowing off the sun, and her brown hair in a kempt ponytail floating behind her, and camouflage pants was meticulously cleaning it while humming a gentle tune to herself. The oiled cloth moved expertly over the barrel, her movements practiced and fluid.

"Anita?! What are you doing?", I call out to her in a nervous voice.

Anita turned, catching my wide-eyed stare. A ghost of a smile played on her lips. "Morning, sleepyhead. Didn't expect to find you awake so soon."

"What… no, wait, why do you have a gun?", my voice came out rougher than I intended.

Anita's smile faltered slightly. "Just cleaning, that's all. This place is deserted, remember? It's good to be prepared."

But her explanation didn't sit right. The way she handled the gun, the ease and familiarity in her movements, spoke of more than just casual preparedness. There's something she isn't telling me.

Sensing unease, Anita sighed and sat down beside me on the bed.

"Hey," she said gently, taking my hand, "Relax. It's okay."

She pointed to another photo on the nightstand right beside our bed. A younger Anita, barely a teenager, beamed beside her Dad with kind eyes and a weathered face, now with no wrinkles in sight, both holding rifles.

"He taught me everything about hunting," Anita continued, her voice soft. "These woods are teeming with deer, squirrels, even the occasional bears. We used to spend hours tracking, learning about the animals, appreciating mother nature."

I couldn't help but be fascinated, a stark contrast to my upbringing in my hometown. I finally understood the hidden meaning behind her attire, the comfortable silence in the woods, and the quiet confidence she exuded when cleaning her gun. Wait, does this mean-

As if reading my mind, Anita stood up and walked towards a hidden door in the corner of the room. "Want to see something nice?"

-

The door creaked open, revealing a hidden room lined with rifles and shotguns, each meticulously cleaned and displayed. An old gun rack held antique pistols, and a glass case housed hunting trophies: mounted antlers, and a stuffed fox.

I was awestruck as I carefully treaded inside. Each item whispered stories of adventures I couldn't even imagine. Anita picked up a sleek hunting rifle, its stock worn smooth from years of use.

"This was my dad's favorite," she said, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips. "He called it his very own 'musket'. Taught me how to shoot with this very gun."

He watched as she expertly shouldered the rifle, her form perfect, a natural extension of herself. In that moment, he saw a side of Anita he never knew existed, a fierce independence, a connection to something primal and powerful. Her face turned serious as she held the weapon in her hand and nonchalantly aimed it outside the window.

Looking outside into the green lush forest, I spot a birdie sitting on a branch. It observed us while using its head to turn around before it flew. Anita's gun slowly followed it. Anita had her gaze fixed on the bird. My breath hitched. I expected a shot, a display of deadly accuracy, but something else happened.

Anita didn't pull the trigger. Instead, she kept the gun trained on the bird, her movements mirroring its every hop and flutter. It was a dance, a silent conversation between predator and prey. The bird, oblivious to the danger, continued its morning routine, unaware of the skilled hunter observing its every move.

Instead of firing, Anita tightened her grip around her gun and let out a loud, unexpected "BOOM!", through her throat that echoed through the room. The bird startled, taking flight in a flurry of feathers.

I jumped back, with my heart pounding in his chest. I stared at Anita, speechless.

A wide grin spread across her face. "Gotcha~" she exclaimed, a hint of laughter in her voice. "Not everything with a gun involves taking a life, you know. Sometimes, it's just about understanding, and appreciating the delicate balance of nature. You can also show someone their place with this thing right here.", she said while tapping the case with her gun.

That...explains how she pulled a gun on me and forced me to sign the papers. I genuinely thought it was a toy gun but the way the revolver's silver glint shone in my room, I didn't want to take any chances. The idea of wrestling her and taking it out of her grasp was something that did occur to me, but now I'm glad I didn't go down that route.

For a moment, Adrian couldn't help but see her as both playful and subtly intimidating, a woman who understood the power of a well-placed bluff. He had seen a glimpse of the wild spirit she possessed, a spirit that both excited and unnerved him.

-

The orange sky crept through the dense canopy of trees. Crickets chirped their nightly symphony, and the air hummed with the quiet energy of the evening. Adrian emerged from the cabin, a mug of coffee clutched in hand, seeking Anita. She flicked her cigarette through the slits of the railing on the porch.

"Thought I might find you here," I said, my voice warm despite the cool evening air.

Anita turned, a smile gracing her lips. "Enjoying the show, are we?" she asked, gesturing towards the fiery hues bleeding across the sky.

"More like enjoying your company," I admit with a fuzzy blush creeping up my neck.

Anita chuckled, a sound like wind chimes dancing in the breeze. "Well, then," she said, "I have something even better than a show." She grunted as she grabbed something hiding from my view from her feet. Bringing up two fishing rods, their tips shimmering with anticipation. "Care to join me for some evening fishing?"

Intrigued, I set down my coffee. "Evening fishing?"

"The best kind," she winked. "The fish are less shy after dark, and the stars make for a pretty impressive audience."

-

The path to the stream was shadowed by the shade of evening sunset. We slipped through the trees while having our eyes on the lookout. The air, thick with the scent of damp earth and pine needles. As we walked, Anita shared stories of her childhood spent exploring these woods with her father, teaching me about trails, and the nocturnal creatures. I couldn't help but be captivated by her passion and knowledge, a newfound respect blossoming for her.

Reaching the stream, a silver ribbon reflecting the moon's faint glow, they cast their lines. The silence was broken only by the gentle gurgle of the water and the occasional chirp of a cricket. 

Suddenly, my rod dipped, a sharp tug almost jolting me out of my shoes. My eyes widened with excitement. "Got one!" I exclaimed, my voice barely a whisper.

Anita watched in awe as her lover battled the unseen fish, the moonlight glinting off the water as it splashed. She was looking at her lover with a squint in her eyes as if waiting for him to prove himself. 

Setting my foot on a hard rock and gripping the rod tight, I finally yanked it and pulled out a glistening trout. Its scales shimmered like scattered diamonds as it started to gasp and dance for oxygen once it settled on land on the stones. 

As they roasted their catch back at the cabin and sipped warm tea, a comfortable silence settled between them, a language unspoken yet deeply understood.

-

Curled up like two peas in a pod beneath the canopy of stars in the sky, I pointed out constellations, my usual nerdy side taking over under the expansive night sky. Anita, unlike my usual captive audience of lab partners, listened with genuine awe, her head resting comfortably around my body and her head laying on my shoulder.

"See that cluster there?" I gestured, tracing a swirling pattern with my finger. "That's Andromeda, our closest galactic neighbor. Imagine, billions of stars, swirling in a cosmic ballet millions of light-years away."

"Millions of light-years away...," she echoed, her voice low and husky, sending a shiver down my spine. "My mind could barely grasp it."

My chest warmed at her wonder. "That's the beauty of it, isn't it? This universe, so vast and ancient, filled with mysteries we're only just beginning to unravel."

Picking out another constellation, my voice took on an animated tone. "There's Orion, the mighty hunter. Legend says he chases the Pleiades sisters across the sky, forever doomed to pursue them in an eternal celestial dance."

A soft chuckle rumbled from beside me, sending another wave of butterflies fluttering. I couldn't see her expression, but I knew she had to be smiling ear-to-ear. Every time I launched into one of my science rants, her eyes would sparkle with a mix of amusement and genuine curiosity. It was intoxicating, really.

"And those three faint stars," I pointed towards a different grouping, "that's Lyra, the harp. Some say it's the instrument Orpheus used to charm the gods and bring his wife back from the underworld."

Anita snuggled closer, her warmth radiating against my side. This wasn't just about sharing my knowledge; it was about sharing a part of myself. The constellations, the stories, the sheer enormity of it all - it fueled my hobby, and seeing it reflected in her eyes ignited a warmth within me that had nothing to do with the stars above.

"It's incredible," she whispered, her voice barely a sigh. "You make them come alive, these constellations. It's like you can see right through them, into the stories they hold."

A blush crept up my neck, but there was a pride I couldn't hide. "I guess being a nerd has its perks," I mumbled, though the amusement in my voice betrayed my feigned nonchalance.

Her hand squeezed mine, and the gesture spoke volumes. "It's more than that, Adrian," she said, her voice soft yet firm. "It's your thoughts, your curiosity, your way of seeing the world. It's beautiful."

We fell into a comfortable silence, content simply to watch the stars wink and listen to the symphony of crickets. Each constellation held a story, a connection to something bigger than ourselves, and in that moment, I felt that connection not just to the universe, but to Anita.

I slowly turned my head to meet her eyes, only to find her already adoring me. We gazed at each other in silence, with my heartbeat rising, and I could feel my blood rushing up to flush my cheeks.

"You're..", Anita whispers while her fingers glide across my face before they finally cup my jaw." You're precious.", she grins.

Her smile starts to die down, and she closes her eyes as her lips part and her body leans into me as if she's asking for a taste of me. I close my eyes in response and finally feel her soft lips crush mine underneath the sky. 

Anita gasps, and her hot breath fans across my philtrum as we both drown ourselves in pleasure, kissing back and forth, twirling our tongues around the other. She grips my torso, with her nails digging in, as if she had holding herself back all this time. Pulling back shortly, I nip at her bottom lip before we finally stare at each other, huffing hot and heavy breaths all while grinning.

Suddenly, a shooting star streaked across the sky, leaving a trail of sparkling dust in its wake.

I gasp, nudging Anita and pointing it out.

"Make a wish!" I whispered a playful glint in my eyes.

Anita closed her eyes, a secret smile playing on her lips. But instead of wishing for something, I knew she was wishing for this moment to last forever.