Evening-ish

 Looks like rain...

She was away from him, further up the porch while he was on the swing, looking at the western part of the world...she said it as matter of factly as if she was giving the time.

That's alright, he responded...we have plenty to drink.

She turned to him, her glass now empty and smiled, holding it up to him.   He sighed, set his feet and laid his glass carefully next to him. He walked over to her and took her glass...he started to turn but she held him up with her hand and pulled him towards her...

just another one of these...the last parts of the sentence ending with her mouth on his...while still in a kiss she murmured thank you.  He turned again and went inside.

He always enjoyed this somewhat servitude role he could play...wasn't always like that and she sometimes chafed with independence...but watching her on the porch, waiting for him...waiting for him to return to her...he enjoyed this tension.  He wondered how long she would wait before becoming too impatient.  He decided he didn't want to know and quickly put some ice into her glass and poured her a couple of fingers of bourbon.  It was probably too early to be drinking this stuff he imagined...but if it was fixing to storm then there was no better glass to have in your hand.

He returned to her, handed her the glass...she took it, took a sip.  Above the rim of the glass her eyes were smiling. It was in these moments that he wish he could bottle and put on a shelf...he knew she was relaxing...he knew she was shoveling coal somewhere into a furnace that only she could control the temperature inside her body...maybe shoveling was too aggressive...maybe more like dropping bath bombs into a heated tub...she was grooving...letting the drink warm her from outside and their proximity warm from within.  It was like when the roller coaster ride was just about to crest the top...

He wanted to stay in this moment forever...

A slight rumble of thunder in the distance reminded them and he returned back to the swing, using his feet he moved slightly back and forth.  She stayed alongside one of the columns, leaning slightly against it.  She was gazing out well past the yard.  

You're too far he said...she turned slightly, that smile again and ambled over towards him.  She sat down on the swing and eased back into it...I was looking for the first fireflies.

Oh yeah, he said, slightly sitting up to gaze over the railing. He thought maybe it was still too light out but the darkening clouds were probably about to ruin everything not under the porch.

He reached out to her, her proximity not too intimate but very close...his hand on the back of her neck...he played with her hair, sipping bourbon.  She leaned over into him, bringing her closer...he could feel her warmth but mostly he could feel her relaxed...she wasn't on her phone, wasn't on her computer although it was open and in the other room.  She made him want to serve her...he wanted to tell her but felt showing was better...

He looked over the yard...I think the rain is gonna miss us...gonna head north.

That's okay...I just wanted a storm to go to sleep to.

Well I can try to make you sleepy.

She laughed...well I'm not quite ready there.

I suppose not...

Well...you know the shower head in the master has a rain effect...

(SILENCE)

He remembered his earlier wondering about her patience and her delay was now causing him to wait.

She raised her glass, drinking the remaining liquid as the ice clinked.  

You want another one to ponder my question?

No, she said, I don't need that to decide.  I want one with you.  I'll meet you there.

She got up, handed him her glass...she walked away...and damn if it didn't start to rain...

Yeah, I hear it she called from inside...I'm still going to meet you in our own rain.

He listened to the rain for a few minutes, wondering how long he could wait until she really got impatient.

He decided he didn't want to find out.