What Happens When The Stars Go Out
He returns home, angry and afraid. Slamming his keys down on the table, he storms in the kitchen. Pulling an old bottle of whiskey down from the cabinet over the fridge, he takes a long swallow and grits his teeth at the burn.
He paces around for several minutes, cursing himself for leaving her. Unsure of what to do with himself, he smokes a cigarette over the kitchen sink, releasing the smoke through the open window. Trying to decide whether to go back or not, he picks up the bottle again before setting it down. Getting drunk is not the answer.
The storm outside is so loud, he hardly hears the knocking, and it isn't until it happens again that he's sure he heard it at all.
Rushing over to the door, ready to unleash holy hell on the person standing there, he throws the door open and finds, her.
She is dripping from the rain, hair plastered to her face and neck in dark glossy clumps. She blinks away the water that drips down her face, and she stares at him as though she's shocked he answered the door.
"Hi." She says, shivering from her soaking clothes.
He moves aside, and she immediately steps through the door.
"What're you doin' here?" He grouses.
"Don't. I ain't got the patience for excuses right now."
She brings her hands up to scrub at her face as it crumples, threatening to release a sob.
He paces over to the kitchen, retrieves the bottle, and puts it in her hand. She takes a couple of gulps before gently placing it on the table at the door.
"You gon' go right back to him! The minute he gets out! It's what you've always done, ain't it? It's bullshit!" He yells.
"You don't know me. You don't know what I'm going to do."
"I know you better than you think. I know you're fixin' to be just another battered wife. What's it gonna take Ali? He gon' have to kill you? It'll be too little, too late by then."
She scrunches up her face as the tears begin to fall. Staring at her hands, staring at the floor, looking anywhere but at him.
"What's it gonna take?!" He repeats.
"What do you want from me?!" She yells. "Daryl?! What do you want?!"
"I want you, Ali! I've never wanted anything more in my life! I would do anything for you! And I wanna make it so you don't have to be scared or hurt ever again." He wipes his hair from his forehead in frustration, and she looks up at him. "But you don't see me. You ain't ever seen anyone but him."
He turns to walk away from her, but she steps forward and grips his forearms with her cold wet hands.
"I see you, Daryl. All I can see… is you." She breathes.
She leans forward, gently brushing her lips against his, before catching them in a kiss. He brings a hand up to cup her face, and push her rain soaked hair away. His other hand clutching at her lower back.
She runs her hands up his arms, parting her lips so their tongues meet. The taste of whiskey lingers there, and she relishes the connection. Ali shivers at the feeling of his warm fingertips exploring her neck, as he brushes her hair back. He wipes away the cold, and the rain, and her sadness all at once
Daryl pulls back, and presses his forehead to hers.
"I want to be with you Ali. If that's what you want." He says quietly, the gravely tenor of his voice causing her stomach to clench with desire.
"So be with me." She whispers, pulling back to look him in the eye. "I'm here now. I'm right here."
He kisses her harder this time, snaking his hands under her thighs and lifting her up. She crosses her ankles behind his back as he carries her to the hallway. She desperately returns his kiss, and it urges him on. He sucks her lower lip softly, and pins her against the wall just outside his room. Ali rubs and grinds her heated center against his erection, torturing him in the sweetest way.
He continues through the door, and stops to let her down at the foot of the bed. He tugs at the hem of her shirt, his eyes asking for permission.
"Pull my pieces back together." She says quietly, and he pulls the soaked shirt over her head, letting it fall with a slap onto the carpet. She is braless underneath, her nipples hardening at the shock of the cold air against them. He unbuttons her jeans, and fights the damp denim down her legs. As he tugs them off of her ankles, he looks up at her, running warm hands up her legs. He kisses and licks her through her panties and watches as she closes her eyes.
She pushes her hands through his hair, gripping a handful at the nape of his neck. Running her nails up and down his neck as he works, causing her entire body to throb with desire.
Bending down, she pulls his shirt up and off of him in one fluid motion, then ghosts her hands over the plane of his shoulders. She stops when she feels heavy, raised scars. Realizing what they are, she gently smooths her hands down his back.
He stands, and places his hands on either side of her face.
"We ain't so different." He says gently, and she whimpers as he presses his lips to hers.
She reaches down to his belt, unbuckling it quickly. He kisses her neck and jaw line as she unbuttons his pants. Reaching in, she takes him into her hands, gently tracing his warm, velvety skin, before gripping him firmly at the base.
Ali feels a sharp intake of breath through his gritted teeth against her, and he bites down on the tender skin of her neck, as she firmly strokes him.
She tugs his pants and boxers down, and positions his hardened shaft at the apex of her thighs, grinding him against the soft lace of her underwear. Teasing him with the thin layer of cloth between him, and absolute nirvana.
"Daryl." She whispers, and pulls him closer.
He smiles, a genuine smile, unable to find anything to say.
He lifts her up, placing her back against the pillows. She looks up at him, and he pulls her panties off, tossing them aside. She wraps her arms around his waist, as he settles between her thighs.
This moment, is unlike any other experience in his life, and he's lost in every sensation.
She notices he's trapped in his thoughts, so she reaches up to touch his face. She brings him back down to kiss her, as she positions him at her sex. He pushes inside, and the wet heat swallows him whole. Ali burrows her face into his neck, trying to remember to breathe.
Daryl starts off slow, exploring, and stretching, and she gasps at the sudden delicious fullness. She uses her heels to pull him in, his entire length satisfying the need she felt just moments ago. Ali meets each thrust with the consummate rhythm of two people in sync, and he is utterly overwhelmed by the way she feels around him.
Neither of them has experienced a coupling so full of raw emotion and pure unspoken love. Her hands gripping his back, and her quiet moans send him closer to the edge as he works between her legs. He notices her breathing becomes more rapid as her orgasm builds, and she clutches at his shoulders and back with fervency. He reaches down to circle her swollen nub with gentle fingers, and she holds her breath as she finds her release.
"Breathe." He whispers, as he helps her ride the waves. Then he kisses her just below her ear, sending shivers down her oversensitive body.
She floats through the aftershocks, clenching her muscles, and quickening her pace to pull him over the edge with her. His breathing intensifies and he suddenly pulls out, leaving an aching emptiness she wishes he would fill again. Ali reaches down to finish him with her hands, and he spills into the sheets. He moves to her side, and they lay there quietly, still wrapped around each other.
He looks over at her, and gently wipes a strand of wet hair out of her eyes, bringing her back down to earth. As he's pulling his hand back, she takes it into hers, kissing his palm, before she breathes a short laugh.
"What?" He asks.
"That was… I mean, I.. don't usually…"
"Just say it." Daryl's tone is calm and reserved, though he spirals down a black hole of insecurity. She notices the look in his eyes, and immediately blurts out the contents of her mind.
"I don't orgasm from sex. I just don't. But this time, was different. That was… intense." She trips on her words, embarrassed by her confession.
"You just gotta breathe." He answers quietly.
She responds by kissing him. Slow, and passionate, no longer containing caution or reservation. He pulls her close, tucking her head under his chin, and rubs her back until she sleeps.
He lies awake long after her breathing evens out. Vowing to God, or the universe, or any other cosmic being that may be listening, to love, and protect the woman lying next to him.
If this is what love feels like, he has never felt anything like it before.
"Alright Ali. What's goin' on?" Marla asks.
They stand together behind the bar, working on their closing duties. Marla had spent most of her shift following Daryl and Ali's looks toward each other from where he sits in the staff booth, enjoying a night off from the shop. It's clear that something has changed, he looks to her as though she's a deity. As though she radiates all the light and warmth in the universe.
Ali smiles sheepishly, earning a gentle shove from Marla.
"Well. Look at you!" Marla quietly exclaims. "So. How was it?"
"Amazing. And that's all you're going to get out of me."
Marla's tone changes and she takes Ali's hand, catching her off guard.
"Ali, don't ever let him go. Please. You deserve to be happy girl. You deserve someone who looks at you like that man over there has been all night. Don't ever go back to the way it was before."
Ali nods, surprised by this serious admission.
She looks to Daryl in the booth, waiting for her to finish work. She plans to take him home, and love him, and fuck him, and make him come in every way imaginable. But it's more than that to her, it's more than sexual compatibility, more than similar pasts and common interests.
It's the invaluable feeling of safety. The euphoric feeling of love, though they've never spoken the words.
But she knows happiness, for her, is fleeting. A dark cloud looms over their horizon. A darkness she knows all too well.
This time, she's ready to fight like hell, to keep it from consuming her.
From consuming what they have.
He lit a flame within her, one that had been extinguished long ago, and she can't help but wonder just how, or why he did it.
Grabbing two beers, she says goodnight to Marla, and moves through the empty bar to where he sits. She slides in the seat opposite him, lighting a cigarette with his lighter. He looks up from the book he reads, and closes it.
"Tell me about your past Daryl."
He lights his own cigarette, taking a deep and contemplative drag, and she is mesmerized by the smoke that leaves his lips.
"What do you wanna know?" He asks.
I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. <3