6–wife

His bag still hung over his shoulder as he stepped into the flat, the warmth that welcomed him as he stepped washing over his face which had stiffened at the touch of the rather frigid and slightly chilly air that had cut into the night sharply outside.

He chose to rather leave it behind him, just on the other side of the threshold as he finally parted with his bag and hung it over the silver hooks hammered to the wooden plank against the soft-colored wall. Despite how he attempted to leave it, the picture sort of crawled back and he found himself running through the sad details within his head, peeling his shoes from his long feet.

He still could slightly recall the panic after the shock that night, how he had felt so oddly drawn to the boy floating in the pool, he remembered the uncomfortable and cool air that had stank of chlorine–he remembered the shover which had latched on down his spine.

He abandoned his shoes alongside another pair belonging to his wife, which usually sat by the door as a reminder of the ties he was doing his best to not wound himself by, though one could barely try to force things of the heart, maybe even his soul had taken a hit a long time ago as well, and he was sure that trying to act as if it wasn't so just made it worse–home was home. And he wasn't ashamed of that however, it was just what hopped on along with it that sort of made it difficult for him not to hold his breath at the thought of home in all aspects of the term.

Even his wife had sort of naturally joined, her shoes often sat along his own, right by the door.

Maybe it was the boy's face now no longer buried in the water or just knowing that someone had just bid someone they loved a farewell, but suddenly he felt plunged into this seemingly cold unfamiliar side of loneliness he wanted nothing

more than to throw outside.

It didn't belong there in the flat with him.

There was a slight chill that had clung to him ever since he had left the office and as he walked further into their flat, he chose to rather blame the slight chill which had hung into the sharp air for this, shoving the boy behind his thoughts.

Their flat immediately met his eyes with a familiarity which hung upon everything which was in their reach, including their furniture. Soft little scatter cushions decorated each seat, even the loveseat-differing in color.

The bright tones which decorated most of the furniture that wasn't in the kitchen sort of made him wash away the picture of the stare which had been carried within the boy's eyes.

He dropped his leather laptop bag on the couch, dumping himself right against it with a heavy sigh.

He sort of hoped to gain his wife's attention just for the sake of distracting his thoughts and maybe to confirm if things were remaining as frosty as they had been earlier that day, but the boy's dead body had taken most parts of his head for the rest of the day, unfortunately.

He stretched his hand to his left, fumbling for her hand as he sat there with his long legs stretched forward, lips slightly pouted. “Theo?”

His wife was currently staring at her laptop, face swallowed by the illuminating light quite gently as the laptop sat before her atop one of their bright scatter cushions which were currently sat against her lap.

From the angle he was in, which was the result of him having positioned his lean body a bit uncomfortably low on the couch, he could see her face and it looked so soft in a way that brought out her slight chubbiness, making her seem much younger than she was, which often liked to decorate his face in some angles sometimes, too.

Her lips were pursed together, her long yet slight eyebrows knitted so tightly in the way that brought a soft smile to his face.

“Theo?” He sort of tugged at the fluffy green robe, which slightly slanted one side of her shoulders, and pouted as he did.

The tugging sort of gifted him with his wife's face, for just a second or two before she sort of eyed the laptop seriously-maybe she didn't feel like much talking.

There were thin blue stripes on the same green robe, an item of her clothing he couldn't understand-the colors sort of killed him there. But the pool water blue lines sort of brought the boy back, sort of pinning his unsure smile to the walls of his head just for torture maybe, he couldn't tell.

The stench of chlorine came back to bite, he felt as if he was there, crouching as he stared at the lifeless body all by itself.

He sighed, needing to forget.

He was home now and surely blue bodies of boys he didn't know couldn't belong there, not when the soft smell of milk and bananas captured his nostrils softly.

He could smell her, his wife, just inches from him.

He shut his eyes.

He removed his tie, leaving it hanging undone around his shirt, his buttons undone to reveal his almost warm ivory skin which was peeking from a crisp white tee-shirt.

The soft and barely visible cleft along her slightly square chin made him reach for her face, running his cool thumb along the outline of her left cheek. “I missed you, but it seems you didn't miss me.”

This caught her as he watched her close the lid of her laptop before she turned around, meeting his eyes, with her long dreadlocks held in an almost heavy mound on top of her head, her face free of any sort of makeup.

Her brilliant brown eyes were on him. “Really? And where are you when I'm missing you?”

“By the phone.”

“You? By the phone? When I called you last–”

“Work doesn't count.” He stretched the back of his neck, almost burying a nail into his fragile skin as he did his best to read the heavy expression that sort of sheathed her eyes with something which he couldn't read.

“You feel I'm neglecting you?” she asked, her pretty eyes practically light as they almost stared down at him-sort of drinking face up. Or at least he decided that was the reason for her eyes having sat the way they were on his face, carrying a soft glint he felt no one could carry so innocently.

“I...I was just –”

“I'm just teasing you,” she said, tugging at his cheek gently as she almost leaned forward, pinching his skin as she did.

He found himself biting his lip as he wondered about within her eyes, watching the soft twinkles dance within the warmer parts of her burnt honey eyes, enveloping his heart with something which only she could gift, her smile sort of pinched at his heart at that moment.

He brought his body close, reaching for her face. “That's such a cruel joke, wife.”

Her eyes held an effortless as she let out a soft laugh, snuggling close to him as she lowered herself. “You were too serious, coming in here with your soul weighing a ton. We leave that by the door, baby.”

“What was with the me-too then?” he asked, unable to help himself as he reached for the back of his neck yet again as he sort of had his arm beneath his head, looking up at his wife.

Her smile was as

sweet as her dimples. “It wasn't you.”

“It felt like it.” He was honest, reaching for his neck he was stopped by his wife who reached for his hand and intertwined it with her own.

“Baby,” she said, climbing onto his lap.

Her brown skin contrasted with his as her colorful robe sort of parted open slightly, revealing her thigh, which his large hand went to rest against, as she secured herself in place.

“I sort of thought you were upset–”

“The honeymoon thing is...I'm just no longer upset about it,” she said, her hands coming to rest against his shoulders.

“You still want it, yeah?” His brows knitted together tightly as she ran her warm thumb along the small leathery scar almost decorating his left eyebrow carefully.

“Yes, I want somewhere warm...like..maybe Hawaii but...I don't know if–”

“If it makes you happy.” His hand was to return to the back of his long neck again, but his wife halted him from it again as she intertwined their ringed hands, together.

He felt her warm body against his, maybe in more ways than one, as she rested her chin on his shoulder, going for his neck-he was certain he must have scarred it a bit.

Her fingers were warm. “Everything's fine, Fern.”

Her embrace was as soothing as her voice, even her fingers rested on the scabs decorating the back of his neck.

“My message isn't the only thing, isn't it?” Her hand had now slipped to go and rest along the midsection of his back, rubbing it carefully. “Baby, I love you so much.”

He gently rested his full lips against the crook of her neck as he breathed. “I know.”