I Run To You

Written for a music prompts game. The prompt was “I Run To You” by Lady Antebellum.
There are days and then there are days, days when it seems less like you’re living your life and more like it’s living you. Living you hard, too, leaving you with grit in your eyes and aches in your fingers and your chest, and there’s only one solution to that kind of weariness, that kind of tension.

Henry’s is a man named Darius. No matter what the time, no matter how the weather, when Henry knocks on the door Darius always answer it with an “I’m glad you’re here” smile and arms ready to pull him close. Sometimes they don’t even need to speak — their kisses say everything, say “I need you” and “I’m here” and “I know you’ll make things better.”

Sometimes Darius teases him: “The problem is, you’re just too sensitive for this world,” but he kisses Henry afterward to say he doesn’t mean it. When Henry said, “Sometimes I think you’re the only true thing in my life,” Darius said, “That’s either the sweetest or the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” and Henry was obliged to hit him with a pillow. Fortunately, Darius’s pillows were sturdy and came through the ensuing pillow fight whole.

But that’s part of it, isn’t it, that there’s laughter as well as passion, that makes Darius the truest thing, the sweetest thing, the best thing in Henry’s very confusing life. Bodies together, hands together, mouths together — it’s the only way to rebuild what’s fallen apart, one kiss at a time.