Dune Moon

Come here

He was inside the kitchen, putting ice into the martini shaker while the bottle of Stoli Elite was next to the sink and because she had wanted to share it there was a bottle of cranberry next to it...he didn't mind sharing...it really became just an issue of portion-control...how much of this beautiful vodka would he pour so that the end result was just a slight pinkish color...

Hang on a sec he replied...wiping his ice wet hands on a towel and moving towards the sound of her voice. 

(The sound of her voice was like what Autumn might sound like...southern, slightly nuanced, maybe deeper with drinks...it was tinged with what you would hope to hear near a fireplace at the end of the evening, mostly embers smoldering, but still giving radiant heat...it was close to the tumble of ice melting in bourbon, the alchemy of liquor and water blending into a perfection combination)...much easier than guessing about the right amount of vodka and cranberry.

He found her at the edge of the patio, yards from the beach...it was still warm but the breeze was up, enough to pull her hair away from her slightly...

Look at that...he thought he heard her say...because she almost whispered it.  In front of him, past the dunes and sea grass was the early rise of the moon, almost orange as it peeked through the sunset...battling its much bigger planet sun who was reluctant to give up the day.

Her back was turned to him...he could see where she was sunburnt on one shoulder, the strap of her bathing suit not covering a bit of skin and it was a crimson that looked like it might hurt...he made a mental note to bring aloe to the bedroom.  Her arms where across her chest, her hands holding her sides and she was slightly tilted, her eyes bringing in the evening.

The waves were a white noise and he felt suddenly very relaxed...he drifted alongside of her, coming actually right behind her so he could rest his chin on her shoulder...he reached out with one arm and pulled her against him. 

what were you doing in there?

I was about to make us a drink.

Oh yeah?  Like what.

I figured a martini...you know, to relax us.

He felt her exhale...a cleansing breath actually...it was deep, and he felt her shoulders relax.

I don't need a drink...this is my alcohol waving her arm across the front of her, the moon moving from orange to white as it slowly climbed.

He turned her towards him, moving her gently like a dance-turn.  She was looking at him, mirth in her eyes as she looked up at him, her arms still folded across her chest.

And I don't need a fucking gorgeous sunset he said, staring back at her, when this is my view.