Feedback: I need it like Ephram needs his father.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Don't sue, I'll cry. ;p
Summary: Ephram and Amy, amid lightning, thunder, and rain.
Rating: NC-17
Distribution: Just please let me know and we'll be good.
Classification: Ephram and Amy
Spoilers: 'The Day is Done'
Thanks: Thank you to Jason and Fern for the spectacular beta. Thanks also
to Shirphie for letting me know that Emily is in fact 18 now, so this is legal.
Dedication: For Gregory Smith and Emily VanCamp.
- - -
- -
"Nothing heals me like you do." -- Heather Nova, 'London Rain'
The curtains are blue. Like her heart these days.
Every day.
She plays with the curtains absent-mindedly as
thunder roars outside the window, forecasting rain. She loves the rain. So many
good memories are associated with it. Days of being wet, just for the hell of
it. For no reason at all.
Rain pours from the heavens like the ice-cold
tears that stain her cheeks. God cries with her as she sits in silence, staring
out the window at the grey sky, the wet ground. As she watches the ground
moisten and glisten, she forgets to wipe away her tears. Forgets that he might
see them.
And the thought comes to her:
I remember...
She remembers Colin. Remembers dancing with him,
in the rain. Laying her head on his chest as he wrapped his boyish arms around
her. Swaying to the rhythm of unheard music, under the massive sky, beneath the
falling rain. Droplets slicing through the air, splashing on their clothes,
wetting their hair to match one another. It wasn't often that Colin would dance
with her. She liked dancing with him. Maybe because it was so rare. Amy has
always loved dancing. He was her silent partner as lightning lit up the sky in
early May, accompanying their tentative steps. Moisture soaked them through to
the skin, plastered their hair to their foreheads. And despite it, they danced.
"Amy..." calls Ephram, his voice sleepy from the
nap he's just awaken from. "Amy." It brings her back to the here-and-now.
It is then that she remembers the wetness on her
face, and hastily wipes it away. She turns to him, her new beau, her new
boyfriend. Her new everything.
"Yes?"
Ephram's face clouds over with worry. He can see
what she's trying to hide. He can see that inside she's dying, as she's been
dying for so long now. Suffering, and fading away. "Are you okay?" he asks her,
and he's never wanted to know the truth more.
Amy turns back to the window, to the staccato
pitter-patter of the rain that drowns out the sun and brings the clouds out to
play. The world is a perfect mixture of black and white, swirled together like
paint to form the grey of old TV shows, and the rain has no color at all to add
to the monotony. It falls in clear droplets to discolor the ground, make it
different. Add something to it. The way Ephram adds things to her.
"I'm okay," she tells him, her voice far away.
"I'm with you."
Ephram knows her head is a million miles away. He
doesn't mind. He knows she thinks of Colin, and that is what makes her eyes so
sad.
Sometimes Ephram isn't in the mood to hear about
Colin. But he asks her now, "Tell me about him."
"Why?" Amy asks, distracted by the rain pounding
outside of the window. Distracted, too, by memories of childhood days.
Ephram thinks of a movie he once saw, and a line
that was worth remembering. "Because you like to remember him."
Amy smiles softly, and slowly lays down on the
bed. She beckons Ephram closer, and he obeys, taking a step toward her, and then
crawling on top of her.
"He was everything, he was..." Amy falters, never
able to find words worthy enough of describing her first boyfriend, her first
love. "He..."
Ephram brings a hand up to gently remove a string
of hair from Amy's face, tucking it behind her ear. His slight weight on top of
her feels good, feels right. "Tell me..."
"He made everything better, he made it special."
Amy smiles again at the memory, clinging to it in her heart of hearts. "He made
me..." Ephram blows warm air into her ear, and she sighs with abandon. "He..."
She is losing her concentration, soaked with the intoxication of Ephram.
"He made you happy."
"...Yes."
Ephram parts his lips and nears his girl,
capturing hers within his, kissing her softly, slowly, gently. Coaxing her into
his world. "Have I ever made you that happy?"
Amy closes her eyes, and shudders, her breath
rushing from her mouth into Ephram's, swift and full of wanting. "Have you ever
wanted to?"
Ephram smiles, though she doesn't see. He looks
upon her with her closed eyes, outlined by black eyeliner, and covered in
glittery white powder. She is a make-up expert, this girl, and so odd for one
who doesn't need a bit of it on her face. Her natural beauty makes Ephram throb
deep in his soul, deep in his pants. He wonders now if she can feel the bulge
expanding from his jeans.
"That's all I've ever wanted when it comes to
you, Amy. To make you happy. Happier than you've ever been before."
There was a time when Amy thought her happy days
were over. Colin was gone, and Ephram was in the arms of Madison. Bright telling
her they were sleeping together was permanently etched on her brain. Whatever,
none of her business, she had said. But wasn't it? Wasn't it now?
"You did everything with him, didn't you?" Ephram
traces Amy's lips so tenderly with his fingers, waiting for them to move, for
her to speak.
"I remember so many things..." she says, and
opens her eyes to find Ephram staring back at her. She smiles so softly.
She has so many memories, of swinging on swings
as water pounded down on the both of them, on she and Colin, together, soaking
their matching black hoodies, making their jeans cling to their legs. She has
memories of walking, hands clasped, jumping into puddles and laughing when
splashes brought short screams of happiness from Amy, and long quiet seconds
from him. She would give anything to have another long second with him.
"We used to have shaving cream fights on the last
day of school." Amy stares up at Ephram's face, as he stares back at her. "In
Colorado, you never know what the weather's going to be like. We had shaving
cream fights in the rain, and in the sun. One year we even had one in the snow.
Mid-may, and it was snowing. It was so cold. It was one of the first times Colin
hugged me. My hair, my body, my clothes were full of cream, but he hugged me to
him, anyway. Bright joked that we were in love, getting all touchy-feely."
Ephram touches a silky stray hair that peeks out
from behind Amy's ear. "You were in love."
Amy nods solemnly. "We were..."
Ephram settles his slight weight on top of her,
pressing his body into hers. Intoxicated by her smell, her face, her hair. She
is so perfect, and now she is his, all his.
"Tell me about your mother," Amy whispers, her
lips inching so close to his.
"Why?"
Amy smiles softly, and recites his own words back
to him. "Because you like to remember her."
"She used to take us out to dinner on Friday
nights," Ephram starts, thinking back to a time not so long ago. Sometimes it
seems farther away, those times that he spent with his mother. "My father would
rarely come, though we would wait for him, anyway. My mom would pretend we
weren't waiting for him. She'd try to steer the conversation to any other
subject. We talked about school, about Delia's friends, about piano lessons. She
was the best person to talk to, because she really listened. It made up
for how my dad never listened. No matter how you tried to say something to him,
he never heard what you were really saying. Never."
Amy wraps her arms around Ephram's body, pulling
him tight to her. She has loved these past few days in New York, spending alone
time with him. Times like this, when nobody else was in the house, when they had
it all to themselves. When they had each other, privately. It was how she liked
it. Everything was quiet, though they said so much. She had learned so much
about him just from these quiet conversations. She had pieced together a puzzle
of so many yearnings, so many memories. She now knew him more completely. She
loved that. She loved that he would share with her.
She's had a matter of days with him, with her
Ephram. She leaves New York tomorrow. To spend the rest of the summer alone,
while he works on his talent, refines it to be even more spectacular.
She's going to miss him.
"I want to play," whispers Ephram. "Come with me.
Come listen to me."
He sits up and clasps her hands in his, pulling
her out of the bedroom and into the living room, towards the piano. A baby
grand, perfectly shined, well taken care of. He lets go of her, and sits down on
the bench. He faces these keys that so easily succumb to his talent.
He plays the first tentative notes to "Fur
Elise", easing into the song, coaxing his girl into the room with this sound he
is giving to her. These notes that he is playing, just for her. Nine taps of the
keys in quick succession. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9... He stops, pauses, turns around on
the bench to look at her. Amy leans on the door frame, watching him. The two of
them just stare, like lovers who haven't seen each other in ten years. She
recreates the music in her head to take the place of the silence that is so
overwhelming, it swallows them both whole. Her panties are wet. It is erotic,
watching him play, and then watching him stare. He is everything to her now. She
wants to give him everything back.
Ephram turns back to the piano, and begins again.
His hands glide over the keys with such ease. His movements are unreal, they are
above this earth. She watches him, her heart crying out with the song that
builds to a fiery explosion, then dies down to bring her back from the clouds to
the room where she stares, at him. She feels a stirring in her loins, watching
the intensity of Ephram playing. She tilts her head and leans it against the
doorframe where she stands, wondering if he knows what she is feeling. If he can
sense her emotions. If he is feeling this, too.
"Dance for me," Ephram says, drinking her in with
his eyes. She blinks in surprise. "Come on, I'll play for you," he continues.
It is a secret fantasy Ephram has, to watch her
dance, preferably to his playing. Ephram's fingers glide over the keys,
crackling inside with the want to touch them, to play. For her.
He starts the song again.
Amy smiles, her dancer's limbs wanting to move
and sway with the music, with this song she knows so well. This song that
everybody knows so well. She wants to add her creativity to his, to add a new
dimension to his playing. She wants to be a part of his dream.
She lifts her arms up into the air, and arches
her back, drawing her hands slowly over her head, touching them together, and
then continuing to move them past her shoulders, towards the ground. In fluid,
supple movements she lets go with her dancer's grace and sweeps her arms back
forward toward each other, lifting her body along with them, facing Ephram once
again.
She rises up on her toes, and leaps toward him.
Her jeans cling to her thin little body, moving along with her. Ephram stops
playing for a few seconds when she rests her hands on his shoulders. He turns to
face her waist, and plays with the dainty wire flower that clings to her belt
loop. Pink, against the dark denim blue. It suits her, something beautiful amid
something vastly the same.
Ephram raises his eyes to the level of her tummy,
then follows the trail further upwards, to her little breasts that are clung to
by her white satin shirt, a shirt that ties into a neat bow in the back. Sheer,
barely covering her at all. He wants to touch her, oh how he wants to. He wants
to feel her, inside, outside, completely. All he has done is kiss her, always
before. It isn't enough. He lusts for her in that moment, wanting her so
badly it hurts.
Amy leans down, and brings her mouth to his ear.
She wets her lips, and then pulls his earlobe into her mouth, sucking on it
gently. She pulls away from his skin, then leans back in to kiss that lobe so
gently. Ephram can't help but to let a soft moan escape.
Amy giggles. "Keep playing." With that, she
leaves his side, and suddenly it feels so cold without her warmth so near. But
he does as she asked.
When the notes begin again, Amy continues her
dance, the dance that she dedicates to him. She loves him, she has fallen so
hard in love with him. And they have had several amazing days together. Dozens
of kisses, dozens of hugs. Tenderness between them, always.
She wants more.
Ephram throbs beneath his pants, his skin itching
to touch hers again. A part of him growing that he's never shown her before. He
stumbles over the keys of the piano, his concentration melting from the
firecracker she has lit, just by touching his ear with her lips. He doesn't need
to look at the keys; he knows this song by heart. So his eyes follow her, and
her movements, as she twirls this way and that, and bats her eyelashes
becomingly, bewitching him, bewitching him. She rises up on her toes, and she
flies through the air. Her hair fans out around her, then falls in disheveled
waves around her face as she flutters her arms, a ballerina, dancing in the
middle of the living room.
He stops playing, and she stops dancing.
Everything goes still. Ephram's breathing slows, until it is barely audible. Amy
runs her fingers through her hair, trying to fix it, to always look perfect for
him. What she doesn't understand is that she is always perfect for him.
Ephram turns, so slowly, on the piano bench,
leaving the comfort of the keys to face the uncertainty of her. The world that
isn't so safe and practiced. "Amy..." he starts, but she hushes him.
"Shh," she says.
He feels like his heart might stop beating. It
slows and slows and slows.
"Come here," he says to her, his voice hoarse,
without the manliness he would have liked in the command. "Please?"
She can resist him no longer. She walks slowly
forward, with a dancer's grace, each step soaring her higher on the inside as on
the outside, she watches him, and waits. She stops before him, flipping her hair
with a sharp nod off to the side with her head.
Ephram looks at this girl, at this body standing
before him. With tentative fingers, he traces up the sides of her waist, up to
her breasts, where he stops. His hands linger there, terrified of being pushed
away, terrified of being stopped. Not knowing where to go from then on.
Amy draws in a breath, and closes her eyes. She
feels his hands on her body, feels them completely, and loses herself amid his
touch. Her legs buckle, and he catches her in his arms, pulling her into his
lap. She breathes in the scent of his black cotton shirt, then inches her face
away from his body to stare into his eyes. There, they breathe together. She
thinks of his playing; he thinks of her dance. Together, they form one thought,
one heart, one mind. Together...
The house they are in is quiet, they are the only
ones home. Ephram looks out the nearby window as he smells the shampoo residue
in Amy's hair, expecting to see sun, but instead he sees grey. He hears thunder
rumbling in the distance. He waits for lightning to burst into the sky.
Amy's whisper is so faint, Ephram has to strain
to hear. "I want to feel you inside of me."
Ephram clasps her hand, and together they rise,
and move to the bedroom. "Fur Elise" plays in Amy's head as she leads her
boyfriend onto the bed by the open window. The breeze from outside plays with
her hair, sending wisps to dance along her cheeks.
Amy lays down on the bed, and Ephram follows her
lead, settling his body on top of hers. He traces a delicate finger along her
upper arm. She shudders, sighing. It feels so good.
Kissing her gently, Ephram coaxes their bodies up
to a sitting position. He pulls away to stare into her eyes, his fingers working
at the bow of satin material across Amy's back. He undoes it slowly, hyptnotized
by her eyes that stare so intensely back at him. "Go ahead," she says when he
hesitates, and he pulls the bow completely undone. He eases the shirt off of her
body, revealing breasts covered only by a thin bra.
Cradling her softly in his arms, Ephram lays Amy
back down, and starts to work on her dark denim jeans. He undoes the button at
the top and unzippers the fly, then pulls them slowly down her legs. Amy lifts
her hips to ease her pants off, and allows Ephram to slide them off her legs,
tossing them aside immediately. He looks down at her, in just her bra and
panties. She is so perfect; so beautiful. So desireable. And now she's all his.
Amy reaches back and unhooks her bra, then
catches her breath in her throat before pulling it off. "Are you ready?" Ephram
asks her, ready to peel it from her skin.
"I think so," she says, and it's such a whisper,
he can hardly comprehend.
"Okay."
He pulls the bra off, and sucks in his breath.
Then he pulls her underwear down to reveal her dark pubic hair. He carefully
sets her underwear to the side, and looks deeply into her eyes. His fingers itch
to touch her, desperate to feel what he's dreamed of since the moment he first
laid eyes on her.
Ephram eases a finger deep into her, hearing her
breath hitch. She's never done this before. He can tell. He feels so honored to
be her first real sexual contact, and wonders if she is thinking of Colin. He
hopes not.
He slides another finger inside of her, feeling
the wetness of her arousal. He teases the tender folds, then slowly begins to
pump his two fingers in and out of her. Amy shudders, her whole body shaking.
Ephram pumps more intensely. Amy moans, gripping the sheets with her hands,
clasping and un-clasping them, desperately wanting to touch him back.
Ephram removes his fingers, and brings one to his
mouth, sucking it inside past his lips, tasting her. She tastes better than he
ever imagined, and now it is his turn to moan.
"Take off your shirt," whispers Amy, wanting to
see his expanse of naked chest. He does as she asked, throwing the clothing onto
the pile of hers already started. She can see his pink nipples, his flat
stomach, his slim arms. She takes a risk, not able to hold something inside of
her any longer.
"I love you," she says.
Ephram, astonished, crawls on top of her once
more. Instead of answering, he undoes the button of his jeans and kicks his
pants off, followed by his boxers. Now they lie naked together, skin pressed
against skin.
Thunder rolls outside, reflecting their soaring
emotions perfectly. Lightning zig-zags across the sky, turning the grey a golden
hue, momentarily. Thunder cracks louder, and Amy shakes slightly, scared by the
sudden noise.
Ephram can't wait any longer to be inside of her.
He grabs a condom that he's been keeping in the back pocket of his jeans for
some time, and slips it onto his erection. He slides his cock into her hot, wet
entrance. It's so tight. She's so tight. She's been waiting for this.
"Ohhhh..." Amy lets out as Ephram slides out a
bit, then slams back inside of her.
"I've wanted this for so long," he tells her.
"I know." Ephram tilts his head, looking down at
her with so much love, so intensely. He feels so much in that moment, so much he
could never describe. "I've wanted it for so long too," Amy reveals.
"Not as long as I have."
"Maybe - - " Amy gasps as Ephram slides in and out, in and out. He takes one of
her nipples into his mouth, and she gasps again. "Oh my God, Ephram, I - - "
"I know," he says, releasing her pink nipple that
stands erect.
Lightning flashes and thunder accompanies it, and
Amy jumps. Ephram slips inside of her, plunging deeper. She gasps, and so does
he, the sensation so miraculously good, it sends them both soaring to the stars.
"I..." Ephram moans. "I have something to tell
you... I love you, too."
Amy smiles, clinging to him, pulling him so close
to her, flattening chest against chest. Softly she whispers, "I know."
Thunder, thunder, lightning, lightning. It booms
from the sky, and all the while, rain falls. Ephram's rhythm of in-and-out makes
Amy's eyes delicately flutter closed. Her breath shudders as she falls into the
abyss her boyfriend is creating for her. She feels as though she's falling
through space, clinging to nothing but him, taking him with her to the end of
the world.
"I'm a little sweaty," Ephram admits with a
laugh. Amy nods to indicate that she is, too. She doesn't open her eyes simply
because she doesn't need to. She can see her beautiful Ephram behind closed
eyes, can see the intensity and concentration on his face as his fingers explore
her body. He traces a single finger down her side, to her waist, and down her
thigh. He cups one of her breasts in his other hand, squeezing just slightly,
liking the feel of her body in his hands. She is his. He has claimed her.
Thunder fires from God above, and Amy opens her
eyes to stare into Ephram's. He slams into her, one... she sees Colin's face;
two... she feels the weight of Colin's lips on hers; three... she remembers
squealing when she was hit dead-on by a fist full of shaving cream; four... she
remembers his laugh - - "I got you!" he said, and he was so excited. So
thirteen. Five... she remembers seeing Colin in the hospital bed for the first
time, needing help to breathe. Six... she remembers running to the bathroom so
she could cry where no one could see her breaking. Seven... seeing him come back
to life. Eight... struggling with him to bring him back to who he used to be.
Nine... realizing that Colin would never again be who he used to be. Ten...
losing him. Knowing that the surgery was unsuccessful, that he had passed away.
Eleven... seeing the illusion of him while she
was on drugs. "I loved you... I love you," oh, she loved him so much. She loves
him still. She wanted to take him back to the world with her, and keep him there
forever. But she couldn't, and she was alone, until Ephram. Now she will never
be alone, even without Colin.
Colin. Her everything, up until now. She clings
to his memory, to the touch of his skin, to his laughter, to his smile. To his
tragedy, his defeat, and his death.
Lightning strikes, thunder wails; and she lets
him go.
"Oh, Amy! Oh, God!" Ephram wails as he orgasms
inside of her. She can feel his liquid, hot within the confines of the condom.
She shakes, and kisses his sweaty shoulder lightly. Then she finds his mouth,
and kisses him there, hungrily, taking him as her own. She is drowning in the
memories, so many sad memories, and he is her lifesaver in the storm. He saves
her in these moments, with every touch of his hands, every kiss of his lips. He
saves her from herself.
It's not Colin; it's something more. She's moved
on now, with the boy inside of her, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his
breath. Her whole body shudders in ecstasy, knowing that she has just had the
most amazing experience of her life. One that she can cling to now, as she lets
Colin drift away.
Outside, the rain pitter-patters onto the ground,
onto the open window. It wets the windowsill. Amy hugs Ephram to her tightly, so
tightly. They breathe together as one, both quite out of breath. Ephram
reluctantly slides out of her.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
She looks at him, and for the first time in so
long, she means it when she tells him, "...Yes."
"Did it hurt?"
"It was a good pain." It was. She's so used to pain. It comes at her from so
many different angles, with the loss of someone so important, so influential in
her life. A good pain. One she can't wait to feel again.
She shivers from the cold of the outside air.
Concerned, Ephram holds her to him, then pulls a blanket up over her body.
Protecting her. He means always to protect her now.
The solemn notes of "Fur Elise" enter Amy's mind,
and she closes her eyes to remember... dancing for Ephram... dancing to that
song... their song... Her tears come again, but for a different reason. They
mingle with the rain in her vision, blurring her eyesight as she stares out the
window, a different person than she was just moments before.
She feels loved, she feels perfect, she feels
okay.
She feels cleansed, by the New York rain.
- -
end
