h2>Dating : A Single Drop of Rain
Wandering Spirits
Maybe I will be a highwayman again…
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Leather, sweat, and gunpowder.
I wrap my fingers around the hilt of my sword and lean forward in the saddle, watching the silvery ribbon that is the road in the moonlight. To my right, Ren shifts in his saddle and his leg presses against mine in the darkness, heat rising up to join the buzzing excitement in my blood.
The carriage appears, rounding the corner through the trees, and I tighten my fingers on the soft leather reins. Ren grins at me, his teeth flashing white in the shadows. I touch my heels against my horse’s flanks, and we’re off.
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Roses, pine, and hot sand.
Ren walks out of the ocean, glistening droplets clinging to the golden skin her red bikini leaves exposed. I hand her a towel as she kneels beside me on the blanket. She leans forward and presses her lips to mine, tendrils of damp hair falling forward to trail cold over my sun-warmed cheeks and shoulders.
“I love you, Ramble.” Ren lifts a hand to touch my face. “I don’t think I say it enough.”
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Wine, cologne, and candle wax.
A soft cough in the ballroom behind me pulls my attention away from the moonlit vista outside the window. I turn and curtsy, my heavy skirts pooling around me. Ren bends over my hand, brushing his lips across the backs of my fingers and sending an electric charge through my body.
I step into his arms and, together, we swirl into the crowd of dancers.
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I like the quiet lives.
When we’re pirates or highwaymen or soldiers, the adrenaline high is almost as good as the sex. But I tire of watching Ren die. I know we’ll meet again — we always do — but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
No, I prefer to lie in bed together, gently touching, with no urgency beyond what we create ourselves.
Sometimes we find each other quickly. Sometimes it takes years. Sometimes we don’t recognize each other at first. While our souls are constant, everything else changes with every rebirth.
I care not at all what bodies we wear, except for the difficulties they can bring us. In some lives, we live together openly, even marrying. This is often easier when we are born into different gendered bodies. In some lives, we must hide our love for one another, pretending we are merely dear friends or roommates. Sometimes, we are not careful enough, and too soon, I am jumping into another life, and must find Ren all over again.
If not for Ren, I would have long ago lost myself.
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