Yes, it's me again! Here is the conclusion to this little trillogy, I think. I hope you've all enjoyed the ride, and I hope the outcome is somewhat understandable... though, you may or may not like it, depending on how you look at it... Mysterious? Hmm...I try! Though, you can look for a renamed, reworked, rewritten, and hopefully better version of The Baby Stealer (for those who visited my website) soon.
Again, I don't own the characters or the words to the songs used, though I do own the story itself :-) Don't sue, you'd have to find me first. (haha!)
The song used is on the Pearl Harbor soundtrack, and is titled "There You'll Be". Good song... ;-)
Forgive me for going into weird perspectives here, I'm playing with that 'omniscient' or whatever you prefer to call it, part of third person narration...
Backchapters can be found at http://www.malenkaya.com/archive/indiscretions.html under 'the Prosvyet Series'. Please review and maybe I'll try something different :-) Please?
This story is the closest thing to *writing* and to *real* I've written in over a year, and I have to say it's been fun. I'm past escapism, and for that I'd like to thank Michele, whoever and whatever you *were*, I wish you still could *be*. And Nikolas, wherever you are tonight as I write this, you have my thoughts and my love, and someday, I'll find you again. Thank you, brother.
Prosvyet: Be
--When I think back on these times, and the dreams we left behind
I'll be glad 'cause I was blessed to get, to have you in my life;
When I look back on these days, I'll look and see your face---
Grasses crunched beneath his shoes, winter frost crumbling and melting, snow falling back over his footprints as he left them behind. New York, in the winter time, was beautiful, busy, loud, and, just as peaceful as it was noisy. Christmas, especially.
Ned Ashton stood at the corner of his yard, watching the snow fall over the eaves of the Gatehouse, watching the fire that stood in the fireplace flicker through the window. The piece of cloth in his hands was knotted, twisted even, and obviously well-loved, well-worn.
Her scarf.
One of her quirks, Ned had long ago fallen in love with, was that she was always leaving things behind. By accident, of course, which made it allthemore intriguing. She was a nervous soul, who was more than a little frightened of messing up, and more than a little scatter-brained on her better days, at least in her personal life. Ned smiled again, looking down at the lavendar material in his hands. In a courtroom, though, she was a magician.
She always won, always called the shots.
Alexis Davis, Ned long ago knew, was a strong woman, and, he thought, quite confusing.
That's why he loved her.
But maybe, just maybe, she didn't know that. He'd listened to her dress, the rustling of clothing, the sounds of her quiet sighs, as she gathered her things and left him - for good or for "then", he wasn't sure. Her movements had a sort of sad finality to them.
That had been days, weeks, months ago. Time he wasn't sure of, all he had left was determination and worry. He hadn't seen her in as long.
"Ned Ashton doesn't give up that easily," he whispered, watching the snowflakes.
Each one is different, he'd been told, and he supposed they were right. But falling as they were they all blended into one another, and all that was left was blinding white falling from the sky, a vision of Alexis behind it, as his eyes closed and he lowered himself to the ground. Like a child, he watched the snow fall against him, but he didn't spread his limbs for a snow angel, or try to make a curly shape's imprint in the snow. He closed his eyes and dreamed, the white sticking to his eyelashes and the brown of his hair.
She stood there, watching him, not knowing whether to laugh at the childishness behind his actions, or to cry at the pitiful and far-off expression that graced his face.
She loved him. And for a moment, that was all in her life that was definite. That thought was enough to send her running, as it had before, but instead, she held her ground, took a few steps forward, and looked straight down into the face of her lover.
"Ned," Alexis whispered, holding a gloved hand out to him as he opened his eyes and wiped away the snowflakes. "We better get inside before you, uh, get hypothermia."
Without another thought, Ned grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto the snow, half on top of him, and half beside him.
She stared at him, mindlessly, unabashedly, lovingly.
And anger began to boil at the surface, covering her embarrassment. "That was uncalled for," she whispered, seeming almost afraid to break the silence, like a pane of glass, hazy yet perfect.
Ned stared, looking for a reason, a feeling, anything that would convey what she really felt. Long ago, she'd perfected the poker face, but upon meeting him, had lost the ability. Yet it seemed she'd grown back into the persona he didn't know as well as the *nervous* one she used to display.
Alexis had *changed*. This, of course, served to further intrigue Ned, so he had to remind himself to let go of her arms. Then, she pressed them against his chest and pushed herself up.
"I came here," she started, brushing her clothing as dry as she could, "to see how you were," her words grew awkward, and the anger drained from her face as she watched him get up slowly, a hopeful look in his eye. "And, " again, she paused, "to apologize for my behavior the other night. I suppose I was a little encapacitated. I never should have done what I did, or said what I did. But in a way," her new shield, the one she'd so carefully built, began slipping as her words spilled forth like the snow; she was again, for a moment, the old Alexis Ned had loved. "In a way, I'm glad I did that, that *we* had that. It's closure, final. It feels..." she chuckled, nervous, "serene, almost." They drifted through the door of the house, Ned still clutching her scarf.
Ned said nothing, only watched, his heart pounding, aching at her words. He'd hoped for her words to be different, for them to focus on rebuilding the *us* he missed and longed for, and loved. In his heart he'd sworn he'd become anything she asked him to, even compromise and not fume and fight over her clients. *Be* all that he knew he should and could and needed to, for her.
But in his head, he laughed at himself, and acknowledged the impossibilities of being perfect. Or at least good enough. He could never just let her go to court and fight for something he didn't trust, didn't like, didn't believe in. He couldn't stand idly by and not be angry when a phone call interrupted an evening designated for just the two of them, and then wait, nervous and frightened, wondering if she'd come home alive, hurt, or in a body bag.
He couldn't DO that.
"Is it wrong," he said, his words not really registering with his mind, "to hate this... closure you're talking about? I don't want *over*, I want to *start* over. I want to tell you I won't worry and I won't argue."
"You can't," Alexis smiled slightly.
"I can't," Ned repeated, smiling a little bit. "I love you."
She smiled, a million words and emotions passing between them in the few seconds before she replied - "I know."
And just as soon as she'd appeared and offered Ned her hand, she'd disappeared, leaving him to wonder if she'd ever really been there at all. Somehow, Ned's heart suddenly swelled and healed just a little bit, and knowing that he'd had her love - he still did - was enough.
And, though his brain was doubtful, Ned knew in the pit of his stomach, in the honest and real part of his soul, that it wasn't over, that love like theirs never truly was; that starting over wasn't an option; and that, though she'd spoken the words and conveyed her message well, she'd lied.
For Ned Ashton and Alexis Davis, there would be no 'the end'.
It was only just beginning.
---In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the skies
In my heart there'll always be a place for you, for all my life...
I'll keep a part of you with me,
And everywhere I am, there you'll be.
There you'll be. ---
Again, I don't own the characters or the words to the songs used, though I do own the story itself :-) Don't sue, you'd have to find me first. (haha!)
The song used is on the Pearl Harbor soundtrack, and is titled "There You'll Be". Good song... ;-)
Forgive me for going into weird perspectives here, I'm playing with that 'omniscient' or whatever you prefer to call it, part of third person narration...
Backchapters can be found at http://www.malenkaya.com/archive/indiscretions.html under 'the Prosvyet Series'. Please review and maybe I'll try something different :-) Please?
This story is the closest thing to *writing* and to *real* I've written in over a year, and I have to say it's been fun. I'm past escapism, and for that I'd like to thank Michele, whoever and whatever you *were*, I wish you still could *be*. And Nikolas, wherever you are tonight as I write this, you have my thoughts and my love, and someday, I'll find you again. Thank you, brother.
Prosvyet: Be
--When I think back on these times, and the dreams we left behind
I'll be glad 'cause I was blessed to get, to have you in my life;
When I look back on these days, I'll look and see your face---
Grasses crunched beneath his shoes, winter frost crumbling and melting, snow falling back over his footprints as he left them behind. New York, in the winter time, was beautiful, busy, loud, and, just as peaceful as it was noisy. Christmas, especially.
Ned Ashton stood at the corner of his yard, watching the snow fall over the eaves of the Gatehouse, watching the fire that stood in the fireplace flicker through the window. The piece of cloth in his hands was knotted, twisted even, and obviously well-loved, well-worn.
Her scarf.
One of her quirks, Ned had long ago fallen in love with, was that she was always leaving things behind. By accident, of course, which made it allthemore intriguing. She was a nervous soul, who was more than a little frightened of messing up, and more than a little scatter-brained on her better days, at least in her personal life. Ned smiled again, looking down at the lavendar material in his hands. In a courtroom, though, she was a magician.
She always won, always called the shots.
Alexis Davis, Ned long ago knew, was a strong woman, and, he thought, quite confusing.
That's why he loved her.
But maybe, just maybe, she didn't know that. He'd listened to her dress, the rustling of clothing, the sounds of her quiet sighs, as she gathered her things and left him - for good or for "then", he wasn't sure. Her movements had a sort of sad finality to them.
That had been days, weeks, months ago. Time he wasn't sure of, all he had left was determination and worry. He hadn't seen her in as long.
"Ned Ashton doesn't give up that easily," he whispered, watching the snowflakes.
Each one is different, he'd been told, and he supposed they were right. But falling as they were they all blended into one another, and all that was left was blinding white falling from the sky, a vision of Alexis behind it, as his eyes closed and he lowered himself to the ground. Like a child, he watched the snow fall against him, but he didn't spread his limbs for a snow angel, or try to make a curly shape's imprint in the snow. He closed his eyes and dreamed, the white sticking to his eyelashes and the brown of his hair.
She stood there, watching him, not knowing whether to laugh at the childishness behind his actions, or to cry at the pitiful and far-off expression that graced his face.
She loved him. And for a moment, that was all in her life that was definite. That thought was enough to send her running, as it had before, but instead, she held her ground, took a few steps forward, and looked straight down into the face of her lover.
"Ned," Alexis whispered, holding a gloved hand out to him as he opened his eyes and wiped away the snowflakes. "We better get inside before you, uh, get hypothermia."
Without another thought, Ned grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto the snow, half on top of him, and half beside him.
She stared at him, mindlessly, unabashedly, lovingly.
And anger began to boil at the surface, covering her embarrassment. "That was uncalled for," she whispered, seeming almost afraid to break the silence, like a pane of glass, hazy yet perfect.
Ned stared, looking for a reason, a feeling, anything that would convey what she really felt. Long ago, she'd perfected the poker face, but upon meeting him, had lost the ability. Yet it seemed she'd grown back into the persona he didn't know as well as the *nervous* one she used to display.
Alexis had *changed*. This, of course, served to further intrigue Ned, so he had to remind himself to let go of her arms. Then, she pressed them against his chest and pushed herself up.
"I came here," she started, brushing her clothing as dry as she could, "to see how you were," her words grew awkward, and the anger drained from her face as she watched him get up slowly, a hopeful look in his eye. "And, " again, she paused, "to apologize for my behavior the other night. I suppose I was a little encapacitated. I never should have done what I did, or said what I did. But in a way," her new shield, the one she'd so carefully built, began slipping as her words spilled forth like the snow; she was again, for a moment, the old Alexis Ned had loved. "In a way, I'm glad I did that, that *we* had that. It's closure, final. It feels..." she chuckled, nervous, "serene, almost." They drifted through the door of the house, Ned still clutching her scarf.
Ned said nothing, only watched, his heart pounding, aching at her words. He'd hoped for her words to be different, for them to focus on rebuilding the *us* he missed and longed for, and loved. In his heart he'd sworn he'd become anything she asked him to, even compromise and not fume and fight over her clients. *Be* all that he knew he should and could and needed to, for her.
But in his head, he laughed at himself, and acknowledged the impossibilities of being perfect. Or at least good enough. He could never just let her go to court and fight for something he didn't trust, didn't like, didn't believe in. He couldn't stand idly by and not be angry when a phone call interrupted an evening designated for just the two of them, and then wait, nervous and frightened, wondering if she'd come home alive, hurt, or in a body bag.
He couldn't DO that.
"Is it wrong," he said, his words not really registering with his mind, "to hate this... closure you're talking about? I don't want *over*, I want to *start* over. I want to tell you I won't worry and I won't argue."
"You can't," Alexis smiled slightly.
"I can't," Ned repeated, smiling a little bit. "I love you."
She smiled, a million words and emotions passing between them in the few seconds before she replied - "I know."
And just as soon as she'd appeared and offered Ned her hand, she'd disappeared, leaving him to wonder if she'd ever really been there at all. Somehow, Ned's heart suddenly swelled and healed just a little bit, and knowing that he'd had her love - he still did - was enough.
And, though his brain was doubtful, Ned knew in the pit of his stomach, in the honest and real part of his soul, that it wasn't over, that love like theirs never truly was; that starting over wasn't an option; and that, though she'd spoken the words and conveyed her message well, she'd lied.
For Ned Ashton and Alexis Davis, there would be no 'the end'.
It was only just beginning.
---In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the skies
In my heart there'll always be a place for you, for all my life...
I'll keep a part of you with me,
And everywhere I am, there you'll be.
There you'll be. ---
