Nicholas Sparks - The Notebook

“It’s quite a storm,” Noah said as he watched the drops flow in vertical streams on the windows. He and Allie were close now, though not touching, and Noah watched her chest rise slightly with every breath, imagining the feel of her body once again before fighting back the thought

“I like it,” she said, taking a sip. “I’ve always liked thunderstorms. Even as a young girl.”

“Why?” Saying anything, keeping his balance.

“I don’t know. They just always seemed romantic to me.”

She was quiet for a moment, and Noah watched the fire flicker in her emerald eyes. Then she said, “Do you remember sitting together and watching the storm a few nights before I left?”

“Of course.”

“I used to think about it all the time after I went home. I always thought about how you looked that night. It was the way I remembered you.”

“Have I changed much?”

She took another sip of bourbon, feeling it warm her. She touched his hand as she answered.

“Not really. Not in the things that I remember. You’re older, of course, with more life behind you, but you’ve still got the same gleam in your eye. You still read poetry and float on rivers. And you’ve still got a gentleness that not even the war could take away.”

He thought about what she’d said and felt her hand lingering on his, her thumb tracing slow circles.

“Allie, you asked me earlier what I remembered most about the summer. What do you remember?”

It was a while before she answered. "I remember making love. That's what I remember most. You were my first, and it was more wonderful than I ever thought it would be."

Noah took a drink of bourbon, remembering, bringing back the old feelings.

She went on. "I remember being so afraid beforehand that I was trembling, but at the same time being so excited. I'm glad you were the first. I'm glad we were able to share that."

"Me too."

"Were you as afraid as I was?"

Noah nodded without speaking, and she smiled at his honesty.

She squeezed his hand, let go, and moved closer. She put her hand through his arm, cradling it, and rested her head on his shoulder. He could smell her, soft like the rain, warm. She spoke quietly. "Do you remember walking home after the festival? I asked you if you wanted to see me again. You just nodded your head and didn't say a word. It wasn’t too convincing."

"I'd never met anyone like you. I didn't know what to say."

"I know. You could never hide anything. Your eyes always gave you away. You had the most wonderful eyes I'd ever seen." She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked directly at him. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "I think I loved you more that summer than I ever loved anyone."

Lightning flashed again. In the quiet moments before the thunder, their eyes met as they tried to undo fourteen years. When the thunder finally sounded, Noah sighed and turned from her, towards the windows.

"I wish you could have read the letters I wrote you," he said.

She didn't speak for a while.

"It wasn't just up to you, Noah. I didn’t tell you, but I wrote you a dozen letters after I got home. I just never sent them."

"Why?" Noah was surprised.

"I guess I was too afraid."

"Of what?"

"That maybe it wasn’t as real as I thought it was. That maybe you forgot me."

"I would never do that. I couldn't even think it."

"I know that now. I can see it when I took at you. But back then it was different. There was so much I didn't understand, things that a young girl's mind couldn't sort out."

"What do you mean?”

"When your letters never came, I didn't know what to think. I remember talking to my best friend about that summer, and she said that you had got what you wanted, and that she wasn't surprised that you wouldn't write. I didn't believe that you were that way, I never did, but hearing it and thinking about all our differences made me wonder if maybe the summer meant more to me than it had meant to you…”

Noah looked away and she continued. "In time, the hurt began to fade and it was easier to just let it go. At least I thought it was. But in every boy I met in the next few years I found myself looking for you, and when the feelings got too strong I'd write you another letter. But I never sent them for fear of what I might find. By then you'd gone on with your life and I didn't want to think about you loving-someone else. I wanted to remember us like we were that summer."

"You're better than I remembered, Allie."

"You're sweet, Noah."

He almost stopped there, knowing that if he kept the words inside him he could keep control, the same control he had kept the past fourteen years. But then something overtook him and he gave in to it, hoping it would take them back to what they'd had so long ago.

"I'm not saying it because I'm sweet. I'm saying it because I love you now and I always have. More than you can imagine."

A log snapped, sending sparks up the chimney, and both of them noticed the smouldering remains, almost burned through.

Allie took a sip of bourbon and began to feel its effects. But it wasn’t Just the alcohol that made her hold Noah a little tighter and feet his warmth against her. Glancing out of the window, she saw the clouds were almost black. "Noah, you've never asked, but I want you to know something."

"What is it?"

Her voice was tender. "There's never been another, Noah. You weren't just the first. You're the only man-I've ever been with, I don’t expect you to say the same thing, but I wanted you to know."

Noah was silent as he turned away. She felt warmer as she watched the fire. She leaned into him and felt the heat between them, felt his body, felt his arm tight around her. It felt so right to be here. Everything felt right. The fire, the drinks, the storm-it

couldn't have been more perfect. It seemed their years apart didn't matter any more.

They gave in then to everything they had fought against for the last fourteen years. Allie lifted her head off his shoulder, looked at him with hazy eyes, and Noah kissed her softly on the lips. She brought her hand to his face and touched his cheek, brushing it softly with her fingers. He leaned in and kissed her tenderly, and she kissed back, feeling the years of separation dissolve into passion.

She closed her eyes and parted her lips as he ran his fingers up and down her arms, slowly, lightly. He kissed her neck, her cheek, her eyelids, and she felt the moisture of his mouth linger wherever his lips had touched. She took his hand and led it to her breasts, and a whimper rose in her throat as he gently touched them through the thin fabric of the shirt.

The world seemed dreamlike as she pulled back from him, the firelight setting her face aglow. Without speaking, she started to undo the buttons on his shirt. He watched her as she did it and listened to her soft breaths as she made her way downwards. With each button he could feel her fingers brushing against his skin, and she smiled softly at him when she finally finished. He felt her slide her hands inside, touching him lightly, exploring his body. She kissed his neck gently as she pulled the shirt over his shoulders, freeing the sleeves. With that, he slowly reached for her. He lifted her shirt and ran his finger slowly across her belly before raising her arms and slipping it off. She felt short of breath as his hands gently caressed her back, her arms, her shoulders, and she felt their heated bodies press together, skin to skin.

They lay back, close to the fire, and the heat made the air seem thick. She ran her hands through his hair as he held himself above her, his arm muscles hard from the exertion. With a little tempting frown, she pulled him closer, but he resisted. Instead he lowered himself and lightly rubbed his chest against her, and she felt her body respond with anticipation.