Dawn

The morning light made itself known through the window panes of the bedroom. The golden rays poured in through the delicate fabric of the curtains, sourced from the orange sun that was coming up over the horizon. The brightness of the star bore the ripe color of the fruit itself, the rays expanding and shooting out like branches into the voluminous clouds, stained hues of yellow and orange and green from the familiar sign that a new day had become. The light seeped down onto the wall, expanding onto the floor carpeted with an intricate, pink and green Persian-rug, stretching onto the wooden planks within its surroundings. The room was bathed with the aura of the sun, the freshness of the morning, and through the window the outside of the estate could be seen. The yard and the bushes had become overgrown, but the fuzzy dandelions and the endless sea of plants and little flowers seemed content to be there, dancing gently in the cool breeze. Trees lined the stone path that led up to the doorway, and they too, danced. An animal here and there skittered about, a squirrel scurried its way up a tree to perch upon a branch, and the birds sang the melody that their home was responsive too. The lawn of the Beckham estate suddenly seemed more cheerful than it had been in a decade, and the numerous imperfections marking the exterior and the yard were no longer particularly significant. It was as if a transformation occurred, as if the residence had been blessed with a healing balm and no longer did it seem a place of neglect and woe.

Perhaps it had something to do with the pair of individuals entwined on Percival Beckham’s bed, nestled closely to one another underneath the sheets like two bees curled inside of a tulip. Percival had his face pressed against Lilian’s breast, his arm and one of his legs slung lazily across her body, while she lay against the pillows and headboard, her head contentedly inclined backward, and both of her arms were firmly wrapped around him as if he would fade away should she let go. Naturally, Lilian felt herself stir awake as the sunlight glinted in her eyes. She sat up slowly, relishing the stretch as she, in no rush, made the movement, extracting an arm from its envelopment of Percival, running her fingers through the ginger curls of her hair that had managed to keep their shape despite the night’s activities. Lilian looked to Percival, who was beginning to come awake himself at her movements, groggily sitting up and adjusting his body to perch on the bedside. The raven locks of his hair, which he essentially never wore down in public, spilled in tousled, full waves around his neck and well-down beyond his shoulders, and the white fabric of his thin nightshirt hung loosely off the curve of his arm. She could see the marks that she had laid upon his skin with fervor, and she found that it brought her a great deal of joy that they were there. Lilian observed as he rubbed his eyes, not seeming to be entirely aware of his surroundings yet, and she smiled with a rare softness while taking his tired face in her hands to kiss him upon his cheek.

“Good morning,” Lilian said to him, sliding her hand down to his neck to gently play with a lock of his hair, “You slept well, it seems.”

“Indeed I did…” The man muttered out, accepting Lilian’s affections as he blinked rapidly in an attempt to bring himself to awareness.

His eyes focused themselves on the woman in the bed next to him. The golden hues coming from the outdoors did well to highlight her beautiful hair and only made the green of her eyes seem somehow even more beautiful. He reached his hand up and brushed his fingers upon the beauty mark beside her smiling lips, leaning into the fingers that more boldly touched upon his hair. Percival felt that as the tiredness of sleep left him, that he was looking upon Lilian Baldry in an entirely new way. She had been different last night, indeed. Uninhibited, free, a lioness that had descended and brought to him a euphoria that he had thought himself incapable of ever knowing. She had seemed to take a great delight in it. It was rare for Percival to, within this last decade or so, ever see Lilian so wonderfully herself and so without the weight of what he knew must press upon her. She was herself now, even though she was far calmer and tender, and gazing upon him with a love that had not been expressed to him since their teenage years. The thought that a woman like her could find such infatuation with him as he was, was incredibly anxiety-inducing. At the same time, Percival knew that he would do just about anything to have these pleasures, both intimate and gloriously domestic, day after day and night after night. He would do anything he could to not have her leave, because if she did, he would be alone once again and predictably revert back to his debauched ways.

“What is it that you are thinking about? I never get to witness a Percival Beckham who is so quiet.”

Lilian’s inquiry shook him from his thoughts. He was most assuredly awake now, and was forced to look at her due to the intense concentration in which she was staring at him with.

“It is embarrassing,” Percival answered with flushed cheeks, his cadence soft and far away from his typically sharp, defensive tongue, “And to be honest, far too vulnerable for me to share to you without hesitation. I think that you might just laugh at me if I were to tell my thoughts.”

She did chuckle, shaking her head side-to-side for a few moments. She drew her hair away from her face once more, playing with the lace of her chemise, lightly laughing again before she regarded him with a tilt of her head. That signature amusement was undoubtedly etched onto her face, as it always was when she felt that he had said something stupid. It was not expressed in the same way, though, as Lilian appeared to be entirely fond of Percival in these moments. In a similar manner to the uncharacteristicness of her tenderness, Percival was blushing shyly and she could not remember the last time he had spoken so gently.

“You were very vulnerable with me not very many hours ago, Percival. Indeed, you trusted me with an act that I can imagine has gotten very stale and repetitive for you, which is something I too know well. Despite the fact that there has been this enormous distance between us, not quite made official due to our continuous bantering, we both made it so we finally put aside it all for a night. There will not be a thing more vulnerable than a coupling fueled by a forgotten love and an endless sea of complicated emotion. With that, you can tell me anything. I know what you may expect, but truly, I will hear you out in earnest.” Lilian moved to rest her forehead against his.

Percival hesitated, his eyes darting between her imploring face and their bodies that were close to each other yet again. His hand sought out her own that rest on the bed beside her body, curling his fingers against hers. He bit his lip, exhaling, looking at her seriously.

“It is making me think of everything.”

“Do you mean before you lost your mother?”

Percival swallowed, nodding carefully.

“I remember our love, Lilian. We were young, yes, it was quite a naïve love, but with the direction my life has taken, it was the most precious thing that I have ever experienced in my life. It is foolish to cling onto something from so long ago, but you know how hopeless I am.”

The words were tumbling out before he could properly stop himself.

“I believe that this is how we are making up for lost time. Ten years worth, before I ruined it all, being myself and being led astray by my grief. I really do not want you to go. I know you must. I know there are obligations waiting for you back at your home, and that you really cannot afford to linger here inside of my residence for too long lest anyone become suspicious of your whereabouts. I understand that if it got out that you had been seen with me, that the consequences you shall face are greater than what could ever happen to me. I never thought I would be saying these words to you again, Lilian. I had anticipated that exchanges such as this one were forever lost to stolen evenings away from the noise at parties, sitting together on the staircase or crouched in the grass of the gardens, and now it seems like that is not the case. I cannot say I know what to do with myself. Goodness, what has become of me, rambling to you in such a manner? It is improper. Unexpected. But I really wish that you would stay with me for even a few hours more. I, in full honesty with you, am suddenly no longer against your proximity. It is the opposite. Stay, would you stay? That is what I ask and what I am thinking and wishing.”

Percival seemed to be breathless by the end of it, having pulled back from her despite his pleas about enjoying their closeness, clutching a hand to his chest as if such a confession had cost him dearly. He mumbled an apology and stood up, pacing to the window, his aching legs protesting the movement, because he could not bear to witness however it was that Lilian was looking at him. She rose from the bed, pulling down the fabric of her chemise, making her way behind him to rest her head upon his shoulder and draw him close once again. Percival went rigid at first, but found the weight of her body behind him and her arms around his waist to be a comforting sensation.

“I will stay longer,” Lilian said quietly into his ear, “It will cost me nothing. I am sure you can guess where Austin is off to, can’t you?” She leaned her face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent that was so uniquely his own. “Besides, it is a personal feeling of mine that I would like to linger here some more. How ever curious I am to see you like this, Percival, in a manner that I had dreamed of when I was a girl and so adoringly in love with you. Maybe it is that having a husband that you were wed to entirely for financial reasons, where both of you could agree there is no love to be found and yet he is content on staying married anyway, makes one yearn more for the matters of their heart to be satisfied. If Austin can go away on ‘business’ and spend a night with a mistress, then why shall I be denied a night spent with a man in which my love for him has never truly diminished? Take this as my own confession to you in response to the one you have given me and take it as a reassurance.”

His cheeks bloomed red again, but not for the reason that he was particularly embarrassed. Was it really true now that they had managed to rekindle their passion for one another in one night of love? Was it a process that had gradually developed itself over time with their continual crossing of paths, that he had just now been privy to in this very moment? Percival reminded himself yet again that he had aptly picked up upon the fact that Lilian was much happier now, and it was most certainly the case because she herself was telling it to him.

The reddening of his face was due to the profoundness of what was occurring, and in the vague reflection of the glass window pane, he could see her smile. It was a response to his response to her in which he had said nothing at all. But did he have to say anything? Lilian Baldry was perceptive; she had always been. Percival could trust in her to pick out his feelings and his words without him uttering them outright, and she would be right every single time. That was how it was when they were younger, and perhaps that and the fact that they never truly stopped feeling some sort of longing for one another was what had remained constant. The prior night, and this morning, existed for the sole reason of yes, making up for lost time. It existed to bring what once had been youthful daydreams that had crumbled, rebuilt into a tangible reality. Neither of them really knew if this happening was to be a consistent thing or not. It could be that they would drift their separate ways yet again knowing that peace had been made and that the years of suffering and wondering and wishing were not in vain. The truth of it was that both Percival Beckham and Lilian Baldry willed this to carry on for an eternity.

“Shall we have breakfast downstairs?” Percival asked after some time.

“An excellent idea,” Lilian answered with a nod, “Come, let us get dressed.”

As they both extricated themselves from the embrace, the two figures took a moment to pause and really look out of the window and into the outdoors, and London suddenly seemed more beautiful than it had ever been.