Truly Madely Deeply

Truly Madly Deeply By Samuel Nightingale Dedications To Jordan Nightingale

Author's Note

Warning to the reader: This story contains descriptions of nudity, sex, foul language and alcohol use. Read at your own discretion.

Prologue

My life has been full of trauma. I have been in the hospital five times for surgery. I have been diagnosed with leukemia. I have long since recovered from a heroin addiction. I have gained and lost lovers. But through it all, there is one trauma that, unlike these others, will not fade. There is one lover in particular who I loved with everything that I am. However, he was so cruelly taken away from me. For what reason or reasons, I know not. All I know is that I hold a scar inside me that will last until my death. I guarantee this story's validity. If you wish not to read our story, then please stop now and move on. If you would like to read our story then please continue and smile at its happy moments, cry at its sad moments, arouse at its sexy moments.

Let its weight bare down on your shoulders for a little while. Let it warm your heart. Let it rest happily, like a flower, in the garden of your memory. Share it with others or keep it to yourself. Read it once or read it twice. Or read it over and over again until you can recite it by heart. But however you read it, I want you to enjoy it. With that, let's begin.

I Deep Green

I had always searched for a pair of eyes that could peer into the depths of my soul. I was so happy on the day I found those eyes.

It all started two years ago this October 30. I was 16. It was a beautiful fall day. The leaves were turning to match the month. A deep, golden orange.

My friend Willow and I were both Celtic Pagans. She had a Welsh accent, while mine was a thick Irish. She had invited me over for a sleepover and we would celebrate Ancestor Night (known to Christians as Halloween) together. We both lived close to my school but in different neighborhoods. When leaving school, there was a particular part of the street you had to cross to go to either way. One way would lead to Willow's house. The other would lead to my house. Every day for the past year and a half, I would walk in the direction of my house. However, on this particular day, I went towards her house.

Willow was currently in college, working for her law degree. She was in town to visit her mother and brother, both of whom I had never met. She had short brown hair and powder blue eyes. Her curves were long and sweeping. She always wore bright colors.

I entered her house and marveled at how grand it was. The walls were the same color as her eyes. The carpets were white with a sofa, facing the front door, to match. To the right of the sofa was a powder blue armchair at a 45-degree angle towards the sofa. To the left was a kitchen with a window to look in. A spider plant rested on the window's sill. About two feet down from the window was an open doorway leading into the kitchen. About five feet down from the doorway was a corridor whose entrance was exactly parallel to the front door. The corridor had three doors in a triangle pattern. The single door was on the left and the two other doors were on the right. All three were closed. At the very end of the corridor was a door that led to the back yard. Back there was where one would find a Færie Ring (a sacred ring of mushrooms used to do spellwork in). It was here Willow and I would celebrate the sacred holiday. Directly across from the window looking into the kitchen was a window looking out the side of the house. Gossamer drapes were drawn across it. About 12 feet down from this was a stairway leading up to the second story. Finally, to the right, in front of the sofa, was a plasma TV on a black TV stand with glass doors and a stereo.

As I stepped in, willow introduced me to her mother, Carol. Also Celtic Pagan with a Welsh accent. Her mother had the same sweeping curves, but her hair was blond and her eyes were a deep, captivating green. She also seemed to like bright colors.

Therefore, I said, as I shook Carol's hand, "You have beautiful eyes, Mrs. Nightingale."

She responded, "Thank you. And please, call me Carol."

I smiled. "Okay, Carol."

Willow then turned to me, "Would you like a drink?"

I nodded. "Whiskey sour."

As Willow stepped into the kitchen, Carol said, "Well, I'm going to pick up Jordan. Be back soon."

Willow and I said goodbye to her. Willow stepped out of the kitchen and gave me my drink. Willow had mixed herself a melontini.

Willow's family owned a small but very successful distillery and vineyard. Therefore, their house was always stocked with the best vodkas, whiskeys, rums, spiced rums, wines, sparkling wines and beers. As I slowly sipped my drink, I began to feel the resulting buzz. I could tell from Willow's changed personality that she was, as well.

As she was mixing a second round, I heard the car door slam. A few moments later, the front door opened. What it opened to reveal, stole my breath from me. Standing next to Carol was her 13-year-old son, Jordan. Willow had described him to me. However, I did not picture him as magnificent as he stood before me that day. He wore a natural tan. His beautiful white blond hair grew down to his jaw. His eyes were such a deep green that I feared I might drown in them. He wore a black sweater and blue jeans. As I laid eyes on him, however, my mind began to remove those clothes. I quickly blocked these thoughts as Willow handed me my drink and introduced me to Jordan after he had removed his shoes. "Sam, this is my brother, Jordan."

I stood, bowed my head and placed my hand over my heart. A pagan greeting. "It's a pleasure. Willow has told me much about you."

Jordan smiled perfectly with sparkling white teeth and returned my greeting. "It's nice to meet you, as well." His voice—also Welsh—was heavenly. Like the bells of the Notre Dame Cathedral. "I have also heard much about you from my sister."

Jordan was one head shorter than I was.

Willow had once more entered the kitchen. She returned with a flute glass of sparkling red wine and handed it to Jordan. He sipped it slowly. As his hand grasped the stem, I noticed how delicate and beautiful his hands were.

All of us sat and watched TV for a while. I was sitting on the left side of the sofa as you face it. Willow was next to me. Her mother was next to her. Jordan sat in the armchair.

Jordan finished his first glass of wine and requested another. I offered to pour it for him. As I took the glass from him, my hand brushed lightly against his. I paused at how silky soft and smooth it was.

Jordan looked at me quizzically as I stared at my own fingers. "Is something wrong?"

I looked up at him. "Hmmm? Uh...no. Nothing's wrong."

He gestured to the flute glass. "Then could I get my wine?"

I looked at the glass. "Oh. Of course."

I ventured into the kitchen and set the glass down to the right of the sink on the polished gray marble countertop. I walked over to the white icebox and opened it. Inside were several foodstuffs. I pulled out an opaque green bottle. I closed the icebox and walked over to the counter. I pulled the cork out of the bottle—the bottle making a slight pop. I looked out the window above the sink into the side yard. Then I poured the drink. As I finished pouring and was pushing the cork back down into the bottle, I looked to my left out the window that looked into the front yard. I put the bottle back in the icebox and closed the door. I walked back into the living room and handed Jordan his drink. He smiled at me and said, "Thank you, Sam."

I nodded and sat back down.

As the evening wore on, the room began to empty. First Carol retired down the corridor. Followed by Jordan going upstairs.

As we heard his door close, Willow asked, "So what do you think of my family?"

I smiled. "Very... nice."

She nodded. "Good. Ready of bed?"

I nodded and we traversed upstairs. The upstairs was just a corridor with three doors in the opposite pattern as the corridor downstairs. The first door on the left was a bathroom. Jordan's bathroom. The second door was Willow's bedroom. With its own full bath. The singular door on the right was Jordan's room. I would be sleeping in Willow's room. We went into her room where we changed and climbed into her queen-sized bed with more than enough room for both of us. Willow's room had yellow walls with white carpeting. Slightly askew from the foot of the bed was her desk with a vanity mirror above it. Her bedspread was white and printed with flowers. Above her bed was a picture of sunflowers in a watering can. A picture I have inquired about but have received only vague explanations that have left me more confused than I was before. To the right of the bed as you face the foot was a window with the same gossamer curtains as the window downstairs. However, this window had a white bench in front of it.

I fell into a gentle slumber. My dreams were, unsurprisingly to me, of Jordan.

By this point, you might be wondering where the Nightingale father was. Well, his parents are divorced. Eric was an Irish Catholic while Carol was a Celtic Pagan. Eric became everything but physically abusive. Luckily, Carol was strong enough to see the abuse and kick him out. He now lives one state over. Now, let's continue with the story.

II Only Hope

Music is such a large part of my life. I love to sing and listen to it. The only problem is I am not instrumentally endowed. Therefore, when I do sing it is typically acappella.

I awoke the next morning to find the bed with just myself in it. Willow was not present. I decided to eat some breakfast then to shower. As I entered the kitchen, I found a note sitting on the counter. Without touching it, I read it.

Dear,

Sam,

Mom and I went to the store to get some groceries. We'll be back soon. Jordan did not want to come. Please watch him while are gone. Thank you in advance. Love, Willow

P.S.

When we come back, please make us your special omelets. Thanks.

Of course, I didn't mind watching Jordan. I had watched children before. From newborns to tweens. Of course, Jordan was 13. Technically, that made him a teenager. According to the old pagan laws, he was also considered an adult.

Furthermore, I was going to make my special omelets. Even though my passion is in writing, I do have a soft spot for cooking. I went back upstairs to shower in Jordan's bathroom. Jordan's bathroom was small. As you entered, to the right of you was the shower. It had a maroon curtain. The sink was in front of you with a white porcelain countertop. A vanity mirror was above this. To the left of the sink was a small closet for the toiletries. To the right of the sink—between the sink and the shower—was the chamber pot. The floor was white tile to match the sink and the whitewash walls.

Now, one habit that I cannot help is that I sing in the shower. I have been told I do it well, but whether or not that was true is moot. I enjoy it. I do it. I decided to sing a song from one of my favorite movies. Only Hope from A Walk to Remember. For the reader's interest, I will print the lyrics here. Feel free to skip them, as they do not add anything to the current story.

There's a song that's inside of my soul. It's the one that I've tried to write over and over again. I'm awake in the infinite cold, But you sing to me over and over again.

So, I lay my head back down, And I lift my hands and pray, To be only yours. I pray to be only yours. I know now, you're my only hope.

Sing to me the song of the stars, Of your galaxy dancing and laughing and laughing again. When it feels like my dreams are so far, Sing to me of the plans that you have for me over again.

So, I lay my head back down, And I lift my hands and pray, To be only yours. I pray to be only yours. I know now, you're my only hope.

I give you my destiny. I'm giving you al of me. I want your symphony, Singing in all that I am, At the top of my lungs. I'm giving it back.

So, I lay my head back down, And I lift my hands and pray, To be only yours. I pray to be only yours. I pray to be only yours. I know now, you're my only hope.

I finished showering and pulled back the curtain. As I pulled the curtain away, it revealed Jordan. He was just sitting on the chamber pot lid, staring at me with his deep green eyes. For bed, he had decided to wear a blue t-shirt and black shorts.

I quickly pulled the shower curtain back in front of me. "Jordan! What are you doing in here?"

"I woke up and heard you singing. I couldn't hear you very well, so I came in here. It was beautiful. I've never heard anyone sing like that before. You know, you don't have to hide behind the shower curtain. We are both boys after all."

I removed the curtain. "Yes. I suppose you are right."

However, as soon as I stepped out of the shower, my penis began to harden. I quickly grabbed a towel and turned away from Jordan. As I dried myself, I suddenly felt a slight pinch on my right buttock. Forgetting about my hardon, I turned to Jordan. He just looked at me, smiling perfectly all the while.

I asked, "Why did you do that?"

He shrugged. "Felt like it. You know, you have a very cute butt, Sam."

Taken slightly aback, I cautiously ventured a question that would change the course of my life in more ways than I could ever have possibly imagined, "Jordan...are you...attracted...to me?"

In answer, he stood, walked over to me, threw his arms around my neck and kissed me so softly I thought it might never have happened. His lips were so silky soft. As he pulled away, he gave the verbal answer to my question, "Yes. Very."

I was obviously speechless.

Jordan turned, walked a few steps away and then turned back to me. "Willow talked so much about you and your caring, giving nature. The more she spoke of you, the more I realized that...I loved you."

My mind was reeling as it tried to process what had occurred in the last five minutes. "You...love me?"

"Very much, Sam. And I know you feel the same way about me."

"You do?"

"Please, Sam. I saw your face when you first saw me. You were spellbound. Then you jumped at the chance to refill my flute glass. And your pause at when you took the glass and your hand lightly touched mine."

I remained silent.

"I knew that I wanted to kiss you; that much I've accomplished. But I want more from you..."

I knew what he wanted, but I had to be sure. Therefore, I tentatively asked, "And that is...?"

Jordan walked back over to me and whispered so quietly I wasn't sure he said it, "Make love to me, Sam. Please."

I knew that he would make this request, but I was so taken aback, I had to sit down. Jordan squatted down next to me.

Two voices churned in my head. One yelled, `Don't do it! He is too young! Think of what this will do to him! Think of the consequences for both of you!" The other voice was the rebuttal—a much gentler voice, "He wants this. And so do you. He loves you. And you love him."

The latter began to grow louder and louder. Soon it grew loud enough to drown out the former. I found that both Jordan and the voice were right. I did love him. Why, I couldn't tell you. But I did.

I turned to Jordan—his deep-green eyes waiting patiently—and whispered one single word, "Okay."

III A Deep-Green Ocean

Remember those eyes that I almost drowned in? Today I let that happen.

I slowly stood. Taking the lead, Jordan gently wrapped his silky soft hand around mine and led me across the hall to his bedroom. Though we were the only two in the house, habit caused him to close the door. Jordan's room had a bay window opposite the door. A crank to open it rested on its sill. The walls themselves were painted blue. The carpet was white. The bed was perpendicular to the door and covered with generic white sheets. A night table rested on the side of the bed closest to the door. Upon it was a bottle of sweet pea lotion and an analog clock. Against the right wall was a dresser, next to which on the side of the room with the window was a two door closet.

I sat down on the bed. Jordan's body was perfect: a smooth chest, with two tiny, soft pink nipples centered on either side. A torso that dropped softly down to where the body tapers to the crotch—a nice sharp "V." A Speedo shaped tan line. His uncut penis fully engorged. His smooth scrotum holding those two small orbs. I turned him around so that I could take in all of him. His butt had two small dimples on either cheek. He turned back around and began to approach me. I stopped him and gestured for him to lye next to me. I had fantasized about my first time for years. I knew exactly how I wanted it to happen. I first had to know my lover's body. As Jordan lay next to me, I closed my eyes and ran my hands over every square inch of his naked body. Every bump, every hollow, every hole, every crevice became mine and mine alone. And Just as I expected, the rest of his body was as soft as his hands. As my own hands reached his face, I opened my eyes. Jordan's face glowed with beauty. I leaned down and kissed him softly. As I sat back up, I grabbed the bottle of lotion on his night table. I spread it on my penis and set it beside us on the bed. I positioned myself between Jordan's legs. I gently lifted his legs, exposing his virgin hole. Then I slowly and gently entered him. His body tensed slightly as I pushed deeper. As my body met his, I leaned down and whispered, "Are you all right? Am I hurting you?"

He smiled. "You could never hurt me, Sam."

With that, I began to thrust. A world I had never known was opened up to me. His body—softer than silk—rubbed against mine as he moaned in pure ecstasy. His fingernails dug into my skin, drawing rivers of blood down my back. Sweat filled with the sweet aroma of youth erupted from his pores. I inhaled this sweet ecstasy, so that the world and its evils could not touch it. Our hands clasped, the sound of them colliding tore through space and time. With my tongue I caressed the purity of his skin. With my lips I stole his breath. His soul was revealed to me, and I could see his motives, his limits, his deepest secrets. I released my soul to him and they became one. No longer were we two separate entities, but one singular being, united by pure love. As the hands of love grasped us, I could feel the purity of this boy fading. I could see the old Jordan dying, being replaced by something entirely different. A new Jordan. This was something I had never seen or felt or heard. I did not want it to end, but I knew that it must. I could feel it racing nearer and nearer. I tried to hold back, but eventually, he accepted into him that which would drown the rest of his purity and innocence. That which would drown any that was left of the old Jordan, leaving something entirely different behind. Jordan's hands entangled themselves in my hair and his body tensed as his back lifted off the bed. He let it down with a mighty crack as all that was left of him faded, and he released the very last ounce of himself.

I collapsed on the bed to the right of Jordan. Our chests heaved as breath escaped in gusts from our lips.

I looked over at the boy whose innocence I had so easily taken. "Jordan...are you okay?"

He returned my gaze. A deep glow radiated from his entire being. "I feel... I have never felt so...heavenly."

"Neither have I."

"Sam...?"

"Yes."

"Will you hold me?"

I smiled. "Of course, my love."

I opened my arms to him and he crawled into them. I wrapped my arms around him. His body felt warm, soft and comforting.

"I love you, Sammie," I heard him whisper.

"I love you, too"

About three seconds later, Jordan's breathing slowed and became steady. He was asleep. As I listened to the sound of my lover's breathing, I realized that I, too, was quite exhausted. I looked at his bedside clock—10:00 AM. As I watched the second hand tick slowly around the clock face, my eyes began to droop. I fell into a gentle slumber.

I stand in a verdant field dressed in a white satin robe. There is a lake a few yards ahead of me. The entire valley is surrounded by trees. A glen. I know this place. It's...

"Welcome to paradise, my son."

I turn to the voice. A woman strides out of the forest behind me. She has beautiful white hair and sapphire blue eyes. She, too, wears a white satin robe. But at her side is a gleaming white sword. Sprites and small dragons dance about the shining crown that she wears upon her head.

I kneel to the queen of the Celtic Pantheon. "Lady Danu."

She gently places her hand on my shoulder. "You need not kneel to me here, my son. This is your home. I am your guest."

I stand. "Lady Danu, am I dead?"

She smiles. "Far from it, my son. This is a vision."

"Of what?"

"Of what awaits you after death. Jordan is seeing his paradise as well. My daughter Rhiannon is attending to him."

"Why am I seeing this?"

"When such strong love between two people is finally united, it has the potential to unlock the part of the mind, the soul and the heart that opens the gateway to this place. Both you and Jordan have done so."

Her face turns from joyous to grave. "But now you must be careful."

"Of what?"

"This is not the only gateway opened by your love. There are things that will try to destroy your love. Creatures. Dæmons."

"That feed on destruction, right?"

She nods. "That is all I can say."

She turns and walks back into the forest.

A voice from far away draws nearer and nearer, "Sam...Sam...Wake up, Sam...Sam, wake up."

I jolted back into reality. I was back in Jordan's room. He was looking at me. Trying to wake me.

"Jordan. Why did you wake me? I was..."

He smiled. "In paradise."

I nodded and returned his smile.

"I woke you because my mom and sister are back."

We both scrambled to get up. I could hear Willow calling for us as Jordan got dressed.

"Shite," I cursed.

Jordan paused in dressing and looked at me. "What?"

"My clothes are in the bathroom."

"Shite. I'll go down and cover for you."

I nodded. Jordan finished dressing and went downstairs. I snuck across the hall into the bathroom. I dressed quickly and went downstairs.

"Hey, Sam," Willow said as I entered the kitchen. "I'm heating up the skillet."

"Okay," I said. "Where's Carol?"

"Bathroom." She turned to Jordan. "By the way, little brother, your shirt's on inside out."

Jordan and I both froze for a fraction of a second. Jordan took it in stride. "Huh. I wonder how that happened. Oh, well. C'est la vie." Jordan quickly removed his shirt and turned it the correct way. As the skillet heated up, I began to make my omelets. Carol returned to the kitchen, and we exchanged pleasantries. I served breakfast.

The day passed normally into evening. Willow and I excused ourselves as we went to her Færie Circle. A few yards away from the Færie Circle was the pool. The clear night sky reflected in the still waters. As we stepped into its safe boundaries and began to set the altar, Willow asked, "So how was it?"

Not sure what she meant, I asked, "How was what?"

"Duh. The sex."

"You mean with you, right?"

"No. I mean Jordan."

I was not as shocked as you might think. "How di—"

"Please Sam," she interrupted, "I could see the signs. Jordan's messy hair. His inside out shirt. The way you looked at him when you came into the kitchen. Plus, the way you acted around him last night. Did you have the vision?"

I nodded.

"Good."

I frowned. "You're not mad?"

"Mad? I'm thrilled. You both had the vision." She answered my question before I asked it, "I already talked to Jordan. I'm glad you both had the vision."

"You're not going to tell, are you?"

She smiled. "Don't worry. You're obvious secret is safe with me."

I smiled as we stepped into the center of the circle. "So have you had your vision?"

She nodded.

"With whom?"

Willow nervously cleared her throat. "You."

Now, I was shocked. "Me?"

She nodded. "You were so sweet that I fell in love with you. I knew you were gay as soon as I met you, but I couldn't help my feelings. That's why I offered to be your...test. I knew you would give me the vision."

"Who was your guide?"

"Lord Dagda."

I nodded and we began the ritual.

We finished the ritual and cleaned up, putting everything back in what used to be the garden shed. Now, the Nightingales used it as a storage shed for their Magickal items. We traversed inside the house and went straight upstairs. I stopped at Jordan's door, fingering the knob.

I heard Willow open her door. "Night, Sam."

I looked from the doorknob to her. "'Night."

She slipped inside her room and closed the door.

I opened Jordan's door and entered his room. The light of the full moon was shining through the window, casting a glow about the room and bathing Jordan in silver water. He had tried to wait up for me but had fallen asleep. He was laid spread eagle on his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of navy blue briefs. His naked chest moved up and down lightly. I stripped naked, crept over to the bed and straddled Jordan's hips. I leaned down and kissed him softly. After a moment's time, I felt him kissing back. I felt his tongue press lightly against my lips. I opened my mouth, allowing it entrance; it slid smoothly over mine.

I broke the kiss and stared into eyes as deep as the sea.

Jordan smiled. "Hi, baby."

I felt my heart melt. No one had ever called me baby before.

I smiled back. "Hi."

I crawled back. I slipped Jordan's briefs down his slender thighs and off. His body glowed in the silver of the moonlight. I grabbed the lotion and spread it on Jordan's penis. I straddled his hips once more and slipped him inside me. The two of us remained frozen for a few minutes. Then I began to ride him. After a few minutes, I felt Jordan thrusting his hips into me. Soon, I felt Jordan fill me. The feeling was enough to push me over the edge. I collapsed to the right of him. Without him even asking, I took him into my arms.

"I love you, Sammie."

"I love you, too."

After a few minutes, he fell asleep. For some reason, I couldn't take my eyes off him. Before I knew it, the sun broke through the window and gently caressed Jordan's naked body. His green eyes opened and looked up at me. He smiled. "Morning, Sammie."

"Morning, love."

He kissed me. "I can't believe I'm waking up next to you."

I hugged him tight. "Neither can I."

He smelled strongly of the events of last night. "We should go shower."

We stood and crossed the hall—naked. I turned on the water and we stood under its flow—arms wrapped around each other. I faced Jordan away from me and gently pressed him against the wall. I entered him—the water acting as a lubricant. After a while, it ended once more. We finished showering and snuck back across the hall. We laid down on his bed. Jordan was lying on his stomach. After an hour or so, I sat up and reached for the bottle of lotion. I felt Jordan's soft hand grab my wrist. I looked back at him, and he was shaking his head.

"Are you sure," I asked.

"Yes."

I smiled. "Okay, but you must do the same for me."

He smiled back. "Of course."

I straddled Jordan's thighs. I felt a small amount of resistance, then I slipped inside of him. As my body met his, I leaned down and whispered, "Are you alright. Does it hurt?"

"A little. But it's a good pain...because it's you."

Boy, did he know the right places to touch—both emotionally and physically. I began to thrust. It was difficult for us both at first, but eventually his muscles relaxed and we both fell into our usual pattern of sexual noises: grunts, gasps, moans, sighs and the occasional swear. All too soon, it ended and I held Jordan in my arms once more.

"I love you, Sammie."

"I love you, too."

We both fell asleep.

Again I stand in the verdant field. Lady Danu stands next to me.

"I can see that it is going well."

I smile. "Oh, Lady Danu, I have never been happier. Thank you for sending me such a wonderful gift."

She returns my smile. "You are welcome, my son. But you must be careful. There are already forces at work that will try to take this happiness away from you. When the time comes that they will strike, I may not be able to stop it."

I nod.

IV I Want To Hold Your Hand

I loved to hold Jordan's hand. I never wanted to let it go.

Jordan awoke me with a soft kiss. "Morning, baby."

"Hi."

Jordan kissed me again and pressed his tongue against my lips. I allowed it in. After a few minutes of tongue wrestling, I rolled over onto my stomach. Jordan positioned himself and pushed himself inside of me. It was difficult for us both at first, but eventually my muscles relaxed and we fell into our usual pattern of sexual noises. Soon I felt Jordan fill me and I felt the sticky warm sensation between myself and the bed. Luckily, Willow did the laundry. I rolled back over and took Jordan into my arms. We laid there for a long time.

I awoke to a knock at the door and a, "Sam, it's Willow."

"Just a moment," I called.

I quickly dressed and opened the door. "Yeah."

"Wakey Wakey, eggs and bakey. Of course, you'll be making the eggs and bakey."

I closed the door and woke up Jordan. "Get dressed, baby."

He dressed and we went downstairs. We entered the kitchen. Willow was preparing the ingredients for breakfast. Carol was not present. I asked Willow where she was.

"She's changing. They are having some trouble at the factory. She has to go in."

Jordan wrapped his arms around my waist, pulled me in close and kissed me. "So what do you want to do today, love."

I wanted to go out with Jordan. Leave the house. Flaunt our love. "Let's go to the park."

"That sounds wonderful."

Jordan let go of me, and I turned to Willow. "Willow—"

"Absolutely." She tossed me the keys to her car. While I didn't have my license, I was an excellent driver. I pocketed her keys.

Carol rushed into the kitchen. She was still pinning up her hair. "Sorry, kids. I've go to run. Crisis at the factory. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Then she was gone. I made the rest of us breakfast and we ate in the living room. As we finished, I took everyone's plates in the kitchen, rinsed them off and put them in the dishwasher. I went back into the living room and pulled Willow's keys out of my pocket. "Shall we."

Jordan stood and we walked out the door together.

Willow's car was gorgeous and expensive. A roll-top red Ferrari with genuine Italian leather seats and a CD changer in the trunk. We got in and I turned it on. Jewel began playing on the CD player and I turned it up. I put the top down and pulled out of the drive. I drove us down to Hayworth Park.

As we got out of the car and began walking towards the river, Jordan's fingers interlaced with mine. I stopped walking.

Jordan turned to me. "Sammie, what's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing. It's stupid. Come on." I started walking.

Jordan didn't move. "Please tell me, baby."

I turned to him. "I just love the feeling I get when you hold my hand like that."

He smiled. "Then I promise I will never let go of your hand."

We walked over to one of the benches and sat down. Jordan's hand never let go of mine.

V A Sea Of Emotion

I have seen Jordan's eyes filled with the warmth of love, the fires of rage and the clouds of sorrow. But I took comfort in the fact that I could always bring the warmth of love back into them.

Jordan and I sat on the bench for hours. Until sunset. Now, it matters not where you go, but you will always run into those who are prejudice against your love. That person for me was Randy Yulgar. He was the epitome of social prejudice's. He was racist, sexist, homophobic, ageist plus a whole plethora of other prejudices. No one liked him. Except for his girlfriend Cassie. Which was a shame, because she was such a sweet girl. However, I knew why she liked him. He was pretty. He had long brown hair, soft blue eyes and freckles.

I didn't even notice he was there until he came up behind us and said, "Hey, fags. How we doing?"

I didn't turn around. I kept Jordan from looking at him. "Go away, Randy. I don't bother you when you are with Cassie."

"Yes. But the difference is that when I am with Cassie, I am not doing anything wrong."

Jordan let go of my hand, stood and turned to Randy. I could see the fires of rage in his eyes. It scared me. And I could see a small amount of fear in Randy's face as well.

"You think what we are doing is wrong when you stand there and judge us. Judgment is wrong as well. So don't you come over here, pitching some bull-shite about doing something wrong. Now get the fuck out of my face before I pound yours in."

Randy turned and walked away. I turned Jordan to me—the fires of rage doused by sorrow and tears. The green of his eyes seemed to have faded. I hugged him close and said nothing. He wept silently into my chest. Soon, his sobs faded. He looked at me—his eyes as green as ever—and smiled.

"I love you, Sammie."

"I love you, too."

We interlaced our fingers and started to walk back to Willow's car. As we were passing the little white gazebo in the park, Jordan tripped and fell into the cala lily bed that grew around it. I helped him out. "Are you okay?"

Jordan laughed. "I'm fine."

We got back to the house and went inside. Carol and Willow were in the living room listening to music.

We sat down.

"Sam," Willow said, "I picked up some clothes for you if you want to stay a few more days."

"Thanks, hon."

Willow smiled.

After a few songs, Savage Garden's "Truly Madly Deeply" began to play. Both Jordan and I said, "I love that song."

We looked at each other and knew that we had our own song.

Soon, it was time for bed. We went upstairs and started making out. We stripped naked and I laid on top of Jordan, my tongue exploring his mouth. Jordan pulled away.

"Sam..."

"Yes, my love."

"Can I...uh..."

"Can you what?"

He gently touched my penis and then his lips.

"Is that what you want?"

"It is."

"Then of course you can."

I rolled over onto my back. Jordan positioned himself between my legs and took me into his mouth. His lips glided gently over the surface of my penis—his tongue massaging the sensitive underside. Gasps and moans poured from my mouth as saliva dripped from his. My fingers enmeshed themselves in Jordan's hair. I felt my orgasm approaching. Subconsciously, I pushed Jordan's head all the way down as I emptied myself into his throat. Without missing a beat, Jordan took it all in. He crawled into my arms—his sweat smelled of flowers. Cala lilies.

"I love you, Sammie."

"I love you, too."

We fell asleep.

I awoke the next morning. Jordan was still asleep. I decided to return the favor of last night. I slipped out of Jordan's arms and oriented myself so that we were crotch-to-face. I began to massage Jordan's penis. As soon as the first moan escaped his lips, I took him into my mouth—causing him to moan even louder. I began to slide my lips up and down. A few seconds later, I felt Jordan doing the same to me. This was the most amazing sensation I had ever felt. Never had the two of us been as connected as we were right now. As with every time with Jordan, it ended too soon. Again, I held Jordan in my arms.

"I love you, Sammie."

"I love you, too."

We fell asleep.

Again I am called to the glen.

"Lady Danu, why do you keep bringing me here?"

"To warn you, Sam. The forces of evil are getting closer to you and Jordan. Something terrible is going to happen. And soon. Please be careful."

"I will try M'Lady. I will try."

VI Romance and Passion

I love romance. You could say I have a passion for it. The two go hand in hand. Passion usually accompanies romance. That's one of the attractive qualities of romance. However, I would probably still love romance even if its mate was not passion.

Jordan and I had been dating for quite a while. For our one-month anniversary, I wanted to do something special for him. Something he'd never forget. I found out that there was a Savage Garden concert coming to town. I saved up enough money for seats and bought two tickets.

But I wanted to do more. I knew what it was, too. A few nights before the concert, I talked to Willow to help me out. She agreed.

I surprised Jordan with the tickets the night before the show. He was so excited that we ended up having sex. No matter how many times, how many different ways we did it, sex with Jordan never lost its passion.

Willow dropped us off at the concert hall. We found our seats and sat down. When the band played our song, I wanted to take Jordan then and there. Unfortunately, we were in a public setting. Besides, I wanted to save it for later that night.

The concert ended. Willow picked us up and took us back to her house. I silently led Jordan up to his room. I gestured for him to go first. He turned the knob and entered. His eyes filled with wonder. Thrown about the room were lily petals. His favorite flower. Mine, too. Lying on the bed was a bouquet of various lily breeds. Lighting the room were dozens of blue candles. His favorite color. He turned to me. "Sam...this is...amazing."

"Well, I put a lot of thought into it."

He strode over to me and kissed me softly. He then walked over to the bed, picked up the bouquet, inhaled its aroma and set the bouquet on his night table. Jordan stripped naked, and I followed suit. We laid down on the bed, and—our bodies entwined, rolling around on the lily petals—we made sweet, soft and, of course, passionate love.

VII Forgiveness

Forgiveness is one of the hardest things to give. Especially when you have been hurt very badly by the one asking for it. But there is one force that can destroy all others. That force is love. For, love is lord of heaven and earth.

I tried to spend as much time with Jordan as I could, which was actually quite often. The fact that Willow knew helped a lot. Of course, we didn't want to spend every day together. We did have our own lives to live.

I loved it when he called me Sammie. There was this special way he would say my name that would make my heart melt in an instant. I could never say no to him after he said my name in that special way—no matter what he asked of me. A night after I had seen Jordan, I got a call from him.

"Hi, baby. What's up?"

"Sam, I'm sick. Influenza. I don't think we should get together for a while."

"Awww. Poor baby. Do you need anything? Do you want me to come over?"

"No. I don't want you to get sick, too."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Love you. Bye."

I cradled the phone.

I sat down and turned on the TV. I couldn't stop thinking about Jordan. I decided to go over anyway. Before I went, I made a pot of my very own chicken noodle soup. Campbell's® can't hold a candle to what I make. But don't ask. It's a secret. I put the soup in some Tupperware and left for Willow's house—she had gone back to college a few weeks earlier. I opened the door and immediately noticed something was off. It was quiet. Too quiet. Carol wasn't there. Sure, she supported her whole family, but she was the boss. I was sure her distillery and vineyard would've been fine for a day or two without her. Regardless, I didn't make too much noise—in case Jordan was resting. I put the soup in the fridge and took off my jacket, as it was November. I tossed my jacket on the sofa and quietly crept up the stairs. Jordan's door was closed, as I expected it to be. I quietly turned the knob and opened the door. What was revealed to me shocked me so badly that I stood frozen. Jordan's head was bobbing up and down on the dick of another boy. Stephen Conner. A brilliant boy who took his smarts to the streets and became a juvenile delinquent. And even though I hate to admit it, he was very hot.

As Jordan realized I was there, he stood. "Sam. Wh-what are you doing here?"

I croaked out, "Jordan, how...could you?"

He walked over to me. "Sam I—"

I slapped him across the face. "How could you do this to me, Jordan?! I thought you loved me!"

"I did. I do."

"Bull shite! If you did, you wouldn't be sucking the dick of this degenerate lowlife."

Conner interjected. "So the gloves come off."

I turned to him. "You stay out of this, you snake."

I turned back to Jordan. "And you. Don't you dare speak to me ever again!"

I stormed out.

As soon as I got home, I went right to my room and wept for hours. Once all the tears were gone, I extricated myself from my room and watched TV with Mom in the living room. A fall rain rolled in. Jordan took my words to heart. He did not attempt to call me. Mom went to bed as I continued to watch TV. As I was watching Scrubs, I heard the faintest knock at my door. At first, I wasn't sure I heard it. Then I heard it again and knew it was for real. I stood and opened the door. There, kneeling on my stoop was Jordan. His clothes soaked from the rain. His hair matted to his head.

"P-p-p-please, S-S-Sam," he begged. "F-forgive me."

I stood there for a moment, contemplating my next move. Reluctantly, I gave in. I grabbed him roughly by the arm and pulled him inside. "Get in here."

"Are you daft," I said once he was inside. "You'll catch your death out there."

As he entered the light, I could see that his soft lips were cracked and tinged blue. His hands were shaking violently.

I pointed to the sofa. "Sit."

He did. I went to my room and grabbed my blanket. On the way back I grabbed a towel from the bathroom. I wrapped my blanket around him and dried off his head. I put the towel back in the bathroom. I then went into the kitchen and heated water for tea. Once the water was heated, I poured two cups of Nighttime Tea. I walked back into the living room. I tried to give Jordan his cup, but his hands were shaking too violently to hold onto it. I set his cup down on the end table and took him into my arms. As his shivers faded, all my sorrow, anger and fears melted away. The last of his shivers subsided and I let him go.

He looked at me with soft green eyes. "Sam, I—"

I interrupted him this time with a soft kiss. "It is all right, Jordan. I forgive you."

"I promise I will never hurt you like that again. Or any other way."

I kissed him again and handed him his tea. We drank in silence. As midnight rolled around, I could tell that Jordan was fatigued. I helped him to my bedroom and called Carol to tell her he was there and that he was fine.

I told you that love was strong. Besides, Conner is a serpent. He destroys people's lives by charming them and bringing them down. Exactly what Danu warned me about. At least, that's what I thought.

VIII Ripped Away

Now we come to the climax of this story. The part I have been dreading since I began it. A moment I have lived over and over in my head, trying to find ways I could've changed it. Knowing full well that I couldn't. The past is the past. It cannot be changed. And over the years I have come to learn that the past should not be changed. Even though we want to, the past should stay that way. The past. But as much as I know this virtue to be true, I would give everything to see Jordan just one more time.

It was December 19, a cold, snowy day. It was after school. Willow and I were at my house.

She asked me a question that always comes up when we're alone, "So, how's Jordan?"

I gave the same answer, "Amazing," but this time I added a little more. I reached into the drawer of my night table and pulled out a small, blue felt ring box.

"I have something for him."

Willow opened the ring box. Though I couldn't see what was inside, I already knew. A sterling silver ring with beautiful Celtic knotwork wrapped around the band.

Willow looked from the ring to me. "Oh, my god, Sam. This is beautiful. How in the world..."

"Did I afford it?"

She nodded.

"I saved for weeks to get it. I hope he says yes."

"Oh, of course he will. He loves you with all his heart. How are you going to do it?"

"The little white gazebo at Hayworth Park."

"That's perfect. Especially this time of year with all the snow. He's getting out of school soon. Shall we?" She stood.

I followed suit. We got in her car, and I decided to drive. As we were going down the street—towards that particular part you had to cross to go either way—Willow's cell phone rang. The sound shortly distracted me. That was long enough.

Willow suddenly screamed, "Look out!"

But it was too late. The car collided with a person on the crosswalk. The body collided with the windshield, sending a web of cracks across its surface. Willow and I immediately got out of the car. She was already on her cell phone with emergency dispatch. I slowly walked over to the body. Blood was spattered across the windshield and the hood. The snow in front of the car was stained crimson. I looked at the body's face. Its eyes were closed and half its face was covered in blood. A small lock of hair peaked out from under the light blue knit wool cap. White blond. I know you aren't supposed to touch the body, but I carefully lifted the eyelid not covered in blood. It confirmed my fears. It was a deep green. Jordan. Surprisingly, I didn't break down. I turned to Willow who was just finishing up with emergency dispatch. I could already hear the sirens.

"Willow! Get over here!"

She walked over to me. "What is it?"

I pointed to the body. "It's...Jordan."

Willow looked confused. "What?"

"The body...It's Jordan."

She put her hand to her mouth. "Oh, no." Tears welled in her eyes. I couldn't let her breakdown. Not yet.

I looked her square in the eye. "Willow, look at me." Her eyes were still on the body. "Look at me, Willow."

She did not move.

"Goddamn it, look at me!"

Her eyes turned towards me. Good.

"I need you to stay calm. Okay?"

She nodded.

"Okay. Good." I pointed to her phone. "Call your mom. Tell her what's going on. I'm going to talk to the paramedics. Okay."

She nodded. "Right."

She flipped open her phone and dialed the number. I walked over to the ambulance. Two paramedics—a man and a woman—were talking amongst themselves. I interrupted them, "Excuse me."

They both turned to me. The man turned to the woman. "Why don't you take this one, Judy?"

She nodded. The man left us to talk. Judy had frizzy red hair tied back in a braid. She had brown eyes and freckles. A true Irish woman. My kind of gal.

I spoke before she did. "Okay. I hate to be rude, but let's make this as quick as possible. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you can get Jordan to the hospital."

"Okay." She pulled out her clipboard. "Do you know the victim?"

"Jordan Merlin Nightingale."

"Are you a relative?"

"Boyfriend."

"Who was driving?"

"Me."

"Have you your license?"

"Not yet, but I have a permit and Willow is 21." I gestured to Willow who had finished talking to Carol.

"I assume neither of you is injured?"

"Nope."

She went over her checklist. "Okay. We're done."

"Okay."

I walked back over to Willow. "She's on her way," Willow said.

I nodded. Carol seemed to take forever to get there. We climbed into her van and we followed the ambulance to Midlands Hospital. Shockingly for all of us, Jordan's father was waiting for us. We weren't allowed to see Jordan until they got him stable. If they got him stable. We sat in the emergency room for hours. I called Mom on Willow's phone and told her I was spending the night at Willow's house. Each time the doors opened, everyone, not just us, looked to see who was emerging. The room slowly emptied until there were only a few people left—including us.

The doors opened once more. A middle aged, heavyset woman emerged. She was wearing granny glasses, a red shirt and a lab coat. She walked over to us. "Are you Jordan Nightingale's family?"

Carol answered, "Yes."

"I'm Dr. Shlesinger. You should sit down."

We did.

Dr. Schlesinger cleared her throat. "The doctors were able to get Jordan stable. However, he is in a coma. He is also brain-dead. Which means..." She trailed off.

I finished for her, "Which means that he's a vegetable. He can't breathe. His heart isn't beating. Machines are keeping alive. Keeping him connected to this world. The chances are slim to nil that he'll ever wake up. Am I right, doctor?"

Dr. Shlesinger nodded. "You may see him if you want." We all followed her back to the ER. She talked as she led us to Jordan's room. "It might be hard to see him. He was pretty banged up in the accident. He has a lot of tubes connected to him"

We reached a room with closed blinds and doors. "If you need anything, I'll be at the nurse's station," Dr. Shlesinger finished.

We all faced the door. None of us wanted to open it. I felt obligated because I had been closer to Jordan than anyone else ever had. I slowly reached for the handle and pushed. The light above the bed was on—casting a depressing glow about the grey room. But our eyes were fixed on the near dead corpse before us. A tube extended from his mouth connected to a respirator that rhythmically pumped air in and out of his lungs. Two more tubes extended from his leg to a bypass machine that pumped his blood. A third tube extended from his groin to a baggie hanging from the side of his bed. An IV dripped nutrients into his blood stream. A monitor above his bed beeped out his rhythms: pulse, heart rate, breathing. We all sat down. After a few minutes, there was a knock on the door. A nurse came in. "I'm sorry to disturb you." She turned to Carol. "Mrs. Nightingale?"

Carol stood. "Yes."

The nurse held up a yellow envelope, stacked on folded clothes, stacked on a backpack. "In a situation such as this, we give the person in question's belongings to their legal guardian. These were among your sons possessions when we brought him in." Carol took the items. "Thank you."

The nurse smiled sadly and left. Carol sat back down and opened the envelope. She began to pull out items. Nothing really caught my interest until she pulled out a small, blue felt ring box. All eyes turned to it as she held it up. "What in the world...?"

I held out my hand. Carol gently placed the box in my palm. I stared at the box for a moment before opening it. Inside was a emerald surrounded by several more emeralds on a gold band. On the inside of the band was an inscription, I want to live like this forever. A line from our song "Truly Madly Deeply." I smiled as I quietly said, "He was going to propose."

"What," Carol said.

I looked from the ring to her. "Jordan was going to ask me to marry him." Suddenly the ring was gone from my hand. Snatched away by Eric. Jordan's estranged father.

"Hey," I said, "give it back."

"No."

Carol spoke up, "Give him the ring, Eric. It's rightfully his."

"No."

"But it's mine."

"No!"

I lowered my hand. "Why not?"

"My son is not a fag, and I will not have him married to a fag."

There are few things I won't tolerate in this world. Being called a fag bothers me, but I can live with it. But calling my love a fag, I won't stand for it.

I stood. "How dare you! You don't know who your son is! Hell, he isn't even your son anymore! You gave up that privilege when you ran off with some hussy and now spend all your time one state over drinking, gambling and fucking random sluts!"

My rant earned me a slap across the face. It did not hurt. I was too angry to feel pain. "I will not be judged by a fag like you. Don't ever talk to me like that again, fag."

"Fuck you, asshole!" At that, I spit in his face.

Eric looked like he was about ready to pummel me

I crossed my arms. "You want to hit me again? Go ahead."

Willow stood next to me. "Yeah, Eric. Hit him."

Carol stood on the other side of me. "Well, we're waiting."

Eric backed down. I knew he would. Like strands of rope, the three of us together could take him down.

Eric grabbed his coat. "I'm going home."

Before he left, I wanted to put the sting in him just a little bit more. "Before you go Eric, it might please you to know this..."

Eric's curiosity got the better of him. His curiosity was one of his greatest weaknesses. He turned to me. "What?"

As I spoke, I walked over to Jordan's bed and turned back to face Eric. "I just thought I should tell you that Jordan is very kind and generous. And a very passionate lover. And anytime you're fucking one of your whores, I want you to think that whatever it is your doing—your fucking her, she's sucking your dick—I want you to know that Jordan and I have done almost everything you could possibly think of. Anytime one of those nasty little thoughts pops into your head, think of me and Jordan in his bedroom doing the exact same thing. But the difference is..." I looked at Jordan, ran my fingers through his soft hair and smiled, "...we did those things because we were in love." I turned back to Eric. "Deep indescribable love. At least I love your son. You don't love any of those women you use and throw away. Think about that the next time you fuck someone. How hollow and empty it feels." I turned back to Jordan. I waved at Eric as though brushing away a fly. "Go away. No one wants you here," I said coolly. Without a word, Eric turned and walked out of the ER, ring in pocket.

As his footsteps faded, my heart slowed to its normal pace and I let out the breath I'd been holding in. Willow walked over to me. I looked up at her.

"Sam," she said, "that was...amazing."

"Thank you."

"I mean, no one has ever stood up to Eric like that. They're all too afraid."

I smiled again. "Well, I guess the old adage, `All bullies are cowards,' sometimes proves to be true. I'm glad it did this time."

She smiled. "Me, too."

I heard Carol's voice from over in the corner. "Is that true?"

I turned to her. "What's that, Carol?"

"Is it true what you said? About Jordan being kind and generous and a...passionate lover?"

I walked over to her and sat down next to her. "I meant every word I said."

Carol was not looking at me, but at the floor. I didn't blame her. She had received quite a bit of information in the last few minutes. She looked up at me. "You loved my son?"

I smiled warmly. "With all my heart."

"Did you have the vision then?"

"We both did."

She smiled. She placed her hand on the side of my face. "You would've made a wonderful son-in-law and a wonderful partner for my son."

I returned her smile. "Thank you."

We stayed a little while longer. Then we all went home. I had a little bit of trouble getting to sleep, but eventually I did.

Once more, I stand in the glen, dressed in the white satin robe. I hear footsteps behind me and the familiar voice. "Welcome back, my son."

"Lady, Danu."

We both stare out at the lake as we speak.

"I see my warning has come to pass."

"Nearly."

"You've come for my advice, have you not?"

"I have."

"Listen to your heart, Sam. It will lead you down the right path."

"I should've known you'd say that."

She nods. "Go home, Sam."

I do.

I awoke and went downstairs. It was a little after 4:00 in the morning, so I did not expect to see Willow in the kitchen. "Why are you up?"

"Had a vision." She takes a sip of wine.

"Me, too." I sit down. Willow hands me a glass of wine.

"She told you to follow your heart didn't she?"

I nodded.

"That's what Dagda told me. What do you think we should do?"

I thought for a moment. "Let's give him the rest of this day. If nothing has changed by tomorrow morning, then we will..." the words got caught in my throat.

Willow finished for me. "...let him go."

The day passed by slowly. Eventually, night came and we all went off to bed once more.

I come to the glen once more. Lady Danu is waiting for me. "So, you've made your decision."

I nod.

"Then why have you come?"

"This is the only place where I can be at peace."

Lady Danu nods. "Do not stay to long. You have an arduous task ahead of you."

I remain there a few more minutes than return to the real world.

IX Final Goodbyes

I don't have much to say about this chapter. All I can say is that it's the end.

On December 21, we all reluctantly trudged up to the hospital. We stood outside his room with Dr. Schlesinger. I turned to Carol and Willow. "I think we should each say goodbye to him alone."

Carol placed her hand on my shoulder. "Good idea. I think you should go last. Your words should be the last he hears. Willow told me everything about you two. You meant the world to him, Sam."

I nodded.

Carol went in first. After a few minutes, she emerged—her cheeks stained with tears. Willow then went in. When she was finished, I stepped into the room and walked over to the bed. I stood in silence for a moment. "I don't even know where to begin." A sob escaped from my throat. Tears welled in my eyes and drifted down my face. "I am so sorry, baby. I'm sorry I did this to you. I know you're in pain. How could you not be? You look like shite. And I cannot watch you suffer because I want you to come back. I know that will never happen. I have to think about you. So, even though it is the hardest thing I have ever had to do, and probably the hardest thing I will ever have to do, I have to let you go. Know that I will never forget you. And I will never love anyone as much as I have loved you."

I leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Goodbye...my love."

I summoned Carol, Willow and Dr. Schlesinger into the room.

Dr. Schlesinger walked over to the machine ensemble. She looked at us. "You ready?"

I answered, "No. But we never will be."

Dr. Schlesinger nodded her understanding. She switched off the respirator. Then the bypass machine. Then she cut off his IV. The monitor above Jordan's head beeped out his final rhythms then went flat.

Dr. Schlesinger called his death, "Time of death, 8:15 AM."

Epilogue

I think I'll stop there. I think that's a good ending. Besides, not much happened after the "8:15 AM" part. Yes. This is good. So, there you have it. I hope you enjoyed this story. I certainly did. And my promise to Jordan has remained true. Even though I am engaged, I do not love him as much as I loved Jordan. And he knows it. If there is any part of this story you don't believe, I'm not going to try to convince you that it was real. All I'm going to say is that it really did happen. And, in the end, that's all that really matters anyway.