The cold rain beat down steadily. Not a downpour, but an unrelenting flow. He was drenched through his clothes, his skin chilled, and his dark hair plastered to his forehead. And still he stood. Unceasing in his vigil. He would not be moved. He would not leave this spot. He could not. He’d made a promise and it was one he would not break.
“Come inside,” his sister coaxed, worry in her deep brown eyes. But he just shook his head, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
“You’ll catch your death,” his mother scolded, the frown etched in lines around her tight mouth. But he did not care if he did, for this was worth it.
“Stop this foolishness,” his father implored, anger and concern in the bass rumble of a voice. But he did not dignify that with a response, because he knew better.
All day he stood. Waiting. Watching. He was scared. He was worried. But he remained at his post as he said he would be. And as the hours passed and the rain continued to fall, he began to fear something terrible had happened. But he did not give up hope. He had faith in the one who had given him the words, and he knew the depth at which he’d returned the promise.
By late morning on the sixth day, I will return. Wait for me. For yours is the first face I wish to see.
He had said he would, and though the sun was now sinking, still he stood. Because he had promised that he would be there and he was determined to do so.
And then, his heart leapt as a lone figure crested the hill. Even from the distance, he could tell the traveler was weary. Perhaps hurting. But the figure paused, looked in his direction, and then quickened pace. His heart in his throat, he couldn’t help running and they met half way.
The first time he laid eyes on the man before him, he knew he’d lost his heart. And now having him once again in his arms, all was right with his world.
“I apologize for the delay.” The words were mumbled into the skin of his neck, and he couldn’t help the small smile. “Thank you for waiting for me.”
He pulled back, and then kissed his love with all his heart, putting into it all the longing and love that he felt. When he pulled back, they were both smiling. “Always.”
Kris T. Bethke--Author of M/M Romance 