Note: This is a new revision of this story. It is also the version that I submitted to an online journal for publication.
The first time she heard "The District Sleeps Alone Tonight" by The Postal Service she was in her boyfriend's bedroom and he was gathering old candles that were hidden in his bookcase and under the bed. She was standing in the center of the room, her knees trembling and the hair standing on her arms.
He looked up from the side of the bed and gave her a look which she assumed to say: No need to be nervous Grace, I love you.
"I know," she replied, then looked at towards the ground. She remembered that she hadn't shaved her legs in a couple of days and thought about how her prickly legs would feel against his hairy legs. She moved her vision farther down her legs and noticed that the red nail polish on her toe nails was coming off and wondered if he cared.
Once his arms were overflowing with candles, he carried them across the hall and into the bathroom, and she was left wondering what to do with this time she had to herself. She walked over to his bed and ran her fingers across the soft blanket. She took a few steps along the length of the bed and moved her fingers over the spiral notebooks that were strewn across his mattress. She moved her attention to the posters on the wall; small reminders of all of the bands that he had introduced her to over the past year and she thought about all of the fun concerts that they had experienced together.
A new song was beginning when he re-entered the room. And before she could say anything, he started unbuttoning his pajama shirt and pulling his arms out from the sleeves. Her eyes were fixated on him and she wasn't even listening to the music anymore. By the time he untied his pajama bottoms and loosened the waistband she should have been halfway undressed as well. But she was still fully dressed, standing there, watching him. Trying to avert her attention from the situation, she turned her head to the cd player and listened as Ben Gibbard sang "…I have to speculate that God himself/ Did make us into corresponding shapes like/ Puzzle pieces from the clay."
He must have been listening at the same time because he broke the silence and told her "That's how I feel about you and me."
She whispered under her breath, "Me too," and they headed for the bathroom.
With the false comfort of his bedroom behind them, they made their way across the hall. Since the bathroom was right next to his bedroom, the music was only slightly dulled when she closed bathroom door behind them. The tile was cold on her bare feet. And the window was open allowing the cold morning air to flow into the room and make what should have been her next moves seem even less desirable.
As she continued to stand there, facing him, he held his weight by placing a hand on the tile perimeter and leaned into the shower. The water began to pour out of the faucet and she watched him place his hand under the water to check the temperature. After a slight turn of the nozzle to the left, he motioned for her to come place her hand under the water as well. Rather than moving out of the way, he set his hands on her hips and held her as she leaned over him and into the shower. The water rushed over her palm and down her fingers, dropping like rain off the leaves that brush against her window during a winter storm.
She turned towards him and, with her voice shaking, said "It's fine."
With a quick pull the shower head shuddered before it released the warm water into the stall. He let go of her waist and she returned to her original location in the room. He smiled as he looked at her and she could tell that he was thinking about the moments to come.
"I forgot the matches. Will you please grab some towels from under the sink?" he asked.
She wanted to tell him that she wasn't ready, that she was scared, and that she wanted to take things slow but found that she couldn't let those words escape her lips and replied, "Of course."
Left alone, once again, she bent down and grabbed two towels from the cabinet. They were pink and soft, clearly from his mother. She smiled for a moment, but her smile faded into worry just as quickly as it had appeared. She rose to check her face in the mirror–– Is this who she had become? A woman who grabs towels for her boyfriend? Her husband? A girl who exposes all of her insecurities, imperfections, and entire being to her boyfriend after one year? What would her mother say if she knew this was going on? She realized that it was too late to be regretting her decisions and too late to change the course of the next few minutes–– but the water had been running too long and the fog had overtaken her image. She wanted to wipe away the condensation but knew that he would see the smudge and realize how self-conscious she felt.
Which of course, she thought, was ridiculous because they had been dating for over a year and had slept together countless times, but this time was different… this time was…
"Did you miss me?" he playfully asked.
She looked over her shoulder and replied with a simple, "Yes."
He lit the candles and then walked up close behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. He leaned in towards her neck and she wondered if he could smell her hair which was wild with hints of lavender and vanilla. He gently moved her hair and exposed her soft, bare neck. When he placed his cold nose against her warm skin, she was transported to sunbathing at the beach the day before and remembered how he had told her that she looked beautiful in that black vintage swimsuit.
She thought about all of the other men that had called her beautiful and wondered why she had never believed them, but she believed him. "How perfect!" she thought right before she turned her face away from his to watch the faint shadows of the candles' flames dance on the walls. The music seemed to grow louder and she recognized the song that was playing. The line "I'm feeling green like teenage lovers between the sheets" at that moment was so silly, she could barely hold in her laughter.
A giggle slipped out and became the liberation of raw emotion, her first of the day. And with that, her shoulders sank down, her neck loosened and she was finally able to relax causing him to break away from her. She turned her body around and was finally exposing herself to him. She looked him in the eyes and cocked her head to the side in the manner which he had told her countless times was what had made him fall in love with her in the first place.
"There she is," he whispered into her ear.
"Yeah, I'm here," she replied as she looked into his eyes.
Her hands made their way up from where they were resting against her thighs and across the space between them, stopping against his face. She let the tips of her fingers dance across the edge of his ears and run along his jawline. She noticed that the district was sleeping alone again that night. She wondered when the album ended and re-started. Did Paul start the album over while he was grabbing the matches? Did it really matter? He was there, with her, and she was ready for anything. She pushed herself onto her tippy toes with brave determination and their lips met. His lips felt slightly chapped against hers which were soft and moist. For her, it felt as if they were kissing for the first time. She wondered if this moment meant as much to him as it did to her. He ran his hand through her hair and cradled her head in his hand. She pulled back just a little and gave him a gentle peck on the cheek.
Then she took another step away from him and lifted her pajama shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor along with all of her worries and insecurities. Next, she pulled down her pajama bottoms and moved towards him so that their bodies were almost touching.
The sound of the water drifted into her ears and floated away. His hands caressed her with what she knew must be love while her hands memorized his arms, chest, and back. With her clothes on the floor and his hand gently resting on her lower back, he led her through the shower door. She turned towards him and cocked her head to the side.
He gave her smile and said, "I love you, Grace."
He shut the glass door behind them as she whispered in his ear, "I'm yours."
