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Brown-Eyed Girl

A Melanie Black Short Story

· Short Stories by Melanie Black

Flecks of auburn made her eyes flicker like slow growing flames in the night. She was strong- sturdy even, but her curves were in all the right places... enough to remind you she, was a she.  The instant I saw her, I knew she had to be my girl. I would do anything to woo her daddy- to make him willing to give her to me. I know that sounds old-fashioned, but I am an old-fashioned kinda guy. 

My heart was bumping up against the organs trying to contain it from underneath layers of pale skin stretched across my chest. My own auburn bush had been growing in and spreading like wildfire across it, camping out around my pecks. The artery that always pulsates at the sides of people's throats was almost jumping out my neck trying to reach her. Touch her. Caress her. I've always had a soft spot for girthy girls; a little bottom heavy. But she- she was perfectly consistent throughout. There was enough for me to wrap my arms around; no way she'd let me get cold at night as we snuggled up together under the moonlight. Her steel would warm to the temperature of my burning desire for her as she carefully cradled me. Ah, just the two of us lying out under the stars, all night, every night because, well, whether she liked it or not, I was going to live inside of her. 

I bargained for her even when her Pop said she wasn't for sale... everything is for sale for the right price. She made her way to me- showing herself to me so now the ball was in my court to find that price... the one that would allow her and I to make a home together. Now it was true, I wasn't a wealthy man but with the means I lived within, it allowed me a more, shall we say, flexible fund? Eventually, I got there... the magic number that made you mine. I paid the nice man and became your new nice man. 

We went everywhere together; parks, zoos, museums, farm fields, night clubs, uptown, downtown and by the end of every day, we had each other to sleep next to. Your velvety cushions pressed firmly against the side of my face and, in return, I softly nuzzled the tip of my nose into their backside. You were perfect- pristine to me. I always got compliments about you. I loved showing you off to the other guys; especially at bars. The types of guys that go to bars regularly love the fine looks of a gal like you, but know they could never afford your high maintenance lifestyle. Me- I am just fine with your needs and promise to always meet every little one of them because, well, that's what you do for the girl you love. Remember, I'm an old-fashioned kinda guy. 

But as the years went on, you got a little rusty- your fashion got a little outdated. I don't care- you'll always be beautiful to me. The very definition of "the apple of my eye". We stick together, me and you- nobody could ever take you away from me or convince me to leave you for a newer model. I love hard. I love forever. Don't worry dear- I'm still in it for the long haul. 

The guys started making snide remarks, snarky little jokes that I knew would hurt your feelings - they hurt my pride. Most of the time I could brush it off- still can, still do. But there are a few of the guys that I have to put down for it. They need to learn their lesson. But you know that because you're there- a part of it. My partner in crime. A vehicle is truly a weapon on wheels, they say, and boy, are they right. Between my pair of fists and the weight behind your tire treads, we have taken at least a dozen assholes off the face of the earth. 

You, dear, are my forever girl and those are worth killing for.