I Will

Spices. Herbs. Exotic meats. Red apples. Sour onions. Whole ginger roots. Many things that Aimee craved but had no money for.

She wore a brown cloth cloak which covered her form. A lock of golden hair, exposed. Crystal blue eyes. Revealing her beauty.

The grapes were full and green. Still wet from a wash. Aimee paid for the bunch and put them in her basket. The merchant watched her. He was entranced by the glimmer of her face. Delicate.

She liked the heat of the sun. She took a detour up a dusty hill to feel the wind. There was a small tombstone. Old markings. A lost soul. You could see the horizon.

“Feels good doesn’t it?” A deep voice came from behind her.

She nearly dropped the basket. Aimee turned. A tall dark skinned man wearing red robes. It was Francesca’s servant.

“I must be heading back to her…” she confessed.

“No don’t… Not yet… I want to feel the sun too,” Diego said.

He walked up beside her. He removed his upper garment. Toned muscles. Large pecs. Shaved skin. His black skin shone.

He took the basket from Aimee.

“My lady asked me to follow you to see if you eat her grapes…” Diego said.

“I didn’t—“ Aimee said but was interrupted.

“You should’ve,” he smiled, “I would’ve. I will…”

He reached inside the basket and pulled a grape from the stem. Kissed it. Then ate it.

“Here,” he took another one and handed it to Aimee.

“No I can’t…” she said. But he pushed the grape on her lips. Brushing them. She opened her mouth and took it.

The sweet rush. Bursting. She didn’t know how dry her throat was before than. So dry…

“Thank you,” she said.

“It’s a little way of knowing that I am still here,” he said.