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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1273176-Best-Friend
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Friendship · #1273176
This is the story of the love two best friends share.
Best Friend
By: *~twiggysrabies~*

         “Come on!  Faster, Raoul!”  I shouted, racing to get to our tree faster than him.  I had to get there first so I could watch him run - his beautiful tanned skin gleaming under the hot summer sun, his long dark hair fanning behind him as the wind caught it.  Raoul was my best friend. 
         I got to the small tree standing next to the river and turned, just in time for Raoul to come crashing into me, knocking us both into the cold, refreshing water.
         “Indra! You know I can’t run as fast as you can...” Raoul whined, the water dripping from his skin, his clothes clinging and perfectly outlining every curve and line of his body.  I swam up to him, taking his hand from his side, and putting it to my lips.  I’d seen Daddy and Krishna do the same as many times as I’d seen Daddy kiss Mama so chastely on the cheek.  Sure, Daddy loved Mama well enough, but nobody should ever come between best friends.
         Marriages are arranged for everyone’s best interest, not love.  Men and women had come to accept, and even expect that their husband or wife would meet with their best friend on a regular basis for intimate pleasure.  Raoul’s father, Krishna, was my father’s best friend.  I knew that one day I’d be married to Sundara, but that didn’t  make me stop loving Raoul. 
         When his soft delicate hand touched my lips, I felt a familiar fluttering low in my stomach, the sensual stirring of arousal.  I kissed my way along Raoul’s arm, slowly making my way to his neck, and then finally, softly, I pressed my lips to Raoul’s.
         I felt Raoul’s hand on my shoulder, and it was shaking.  I’d scared him.  I was only three years older than he was, but it sometimes seemed a decade stood between us, his innocence and childish beauty rousing a passion inside me.  I felt that if I couldn’t feel his skin against my lips just once more, I’d go crazy.
         I looked up, into his deep brown eyes, whispering softly, “Raoul...I’m sorry.  I just, I love you so much...I just wanted to be a little closer to you.”
         “Indra...it’s okay,” Raoul said, pushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear, “You just surprised me,” he whispered.
         “You’re sure? I...I don’t want to scare you.”
         “You could never scare me, Indra.  You’re my best friend, remember?”  He said it so brightly, so...innocently.  It suddenly occurred to me that he wasn’t as immature and as naïve as I thought he was.  He knew just as well as I did that naming someone your best friend was almost publicly declaring your most intimate secrets and desires.  I leaned forward and kissed him again, softly, the yielding, velvety softness of his lips enveloping my senses entirely.  Raoul’s eyes shut, and his hand clung to my own.
         I finally pulled back, whispering softly, “I love you.”  He only watched me, trembling slightly.  We parted ways at sundown that day, both of us changed.
         The next three years were spent slowly nurturing our budding love.  We wanted it to be a gorgeous flower someday, a flower that could withstand my upcoming marriage, and Raoul’s coming of age.  Then the flower was trampled when Krishna was killed.  My beloved Raoul was taken from me, snatched away so cruelly...leaving me so alone.  I had to keep my marriage arrangements, and I was married in the same year that Raoul was kidnapped.
         I sit here now, with my wife, Sundara, having not seen him in so many years...not knowing what he’s been through.  I’m watching him dance at his wedding...to a man named Alessandro.  Even after all these years I long to kiss him just once more, but I can see the happiness that Alessandro has brought back to him.  The light that used to shine in Raoul’s eyes, when he saw me under our tree, now shines more beautifully and brighter each time he glances at his husband.
         I still love Raoul, with all my heart, but I want what’s best for him - and that isn’t me, not anymore.  My happiness has been fulfilled in seeing his eyes shine just once more.
© Copyright 2007 twiggysrabies (twiggysrabies at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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