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Fucking morals.
“Where did you go?” She strokes my fast-paced heart.
“To my imagination. You would run away if you knew what I was thinking.” I look down—her head resting on me, her chin tucked on my chest.
“Tell me,” she whispers.
I shake my head and look up at the ceiling. “No one has turned me on as you do, couch girl. Your one look is enough to ignite a fire in me, and I burn like dry timber.”
I return my gaze to her and notice the forgotten dinner on the table.
“God, you make me forget everything. Eat.” I sit upright, taking her along with me.
She takes a bite of the bread. “Wow, you really can cook.” Surprise is evident in her voice.
I laugh at her reaction. “This isn’t cooking. This is just some fix-up.”
“I love your fix-up.” Her twitching lips tell me she’s not at all talking about food.
“Keep going baby and before you know it, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and take you to bed. I will spend all night showing you my fix-up.”
She looks at me for few minutes, eyes wide, lips parted, just asking me to do all that, until she shakes her head. “No. You still have to open your gift. I hope you like it.”
“There’s nothing you can give me or do for me that I won’t like,” I reply, kissing her nose.
Before we lose track of the conversation again, I pick up the small box from the table. It fits perfectly in my palm. I glance her way to find her nervously fidgeting in her seat.
I tug on the black silk ribbon and tear the wrapping paper to reveal a small wooden box before flipping the small golden latch open. Inside is a red resin cubic ornament tied to a chain. I place it in my palm and bring it closer to Marr.
“Explain.” I know it’s a thoughtful gift. I can imagine Marr thinking about it for several nights.
She covers the small cube with her hands, keeping just a small opening on the top. I peek through it and see the cube glowing in a cherry red color—our color.
“It’s florescent,” I comment, mesmerized. There’s a metal piece inside, shining brightly. I get off the couch to turn off the lights in the room. When I turn around, Marr has placed the cube on the coffee table, and the metal piece resembles a sound wave, floating inside the red resin.
“What’s that?”
“Me,” she whispers.
“More, please.” I don’t know why, but there’s a nervous energy around us. I don’t know the meaning of her gift yet, but the exotic red thing glowing in the dark feels like a landmark in our relationship.
“I 3D printed the red florescent resin around a sound wave made of titanium metal.”
“Titanium?” I know everything she does has a meaning, and I’m dying to decipher her gift. I’m eager to see it the same way she does.
“I don’t want us to break,” she replies. Her eyes are fixed on the red light source.
“What does the sound wave say?”
She opens her cell phone and hits the play button.
Her sweet sound vibrates from the speaker. “I love you, Zander. Yours and only yours, Rose.”
“Marr, how did you do it?” My voice trembles with emotion.
“I converted my voice into a sound wave and then had it replicated in titanium. I wanted to give you a happy memory of my name.” She picks it up from the table with the small metal chain attached to it. “You can hang it in your car.”
The gravity of her words and the meaning of her gift hit me. She has created a piece of her, her name, in hope to wipe away the haunted memories of my past. I look at her in awe. If anyone has the power to do that, it’s her.
