Disclaimer: None of the characters of CSI: NY belong to me.
Making Right
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The reality of the situation suddenly hits me as I stand in front of her door with the possibility of a promising night laying ahead of us. Am I actually ready for this? Am I doing the right thing? I could feel the tension slowly seeping into my veins as I raise my tightly clutched knuckles to make the slightest resemblance of a knock on her door. With slightly short and haggard breaths, I finally gained the strength to touch my hand with the wooden barrier, the only constraint that would hinder the possibility of an onslaught of dire consequences. With a momentary lapse of conscious judgment, all my restraints had been broken.
The sharp knocking on my door seemed like a thousand roars of gunfire contrasting with the stillness in my apartment and the self-imposed calmness I had put on. Am I actually ready for this? Am I doing the right thing? The emotional wounds I had inflicted upon myself were still fresh and a tiny voice in the back of my mind constantly nagged me, claiming that this is the worst possible course of action. My other, more rational self, however, had constantly told me to get a move on and open the door. The latter had won, being the usual rational investigator that I was. Losing my train of thought, I heard my very own footsteps echo in the depths of my empty mind.
"Danny, hi", she said as I look into her eyes trying to find what I have always loved about her. The knots in my stomach have twisted tighter and tighter, almost to the point of gripping my lungs in an inescapable death grip. Despite this I offer her my arm and bravely quirked the corners of my lips upward, being the changed man that I am everytime I was with her. Time to put on the magic, I thought, should be as easy as playing ball, or before I met her.
"Are you okay there, Lindsay?" My head immediately snapped towards the left at the sound of his voice. To me it didn't sound at all quite the same, it didn't sound like his. Fortunately, I was able to mouth a scantly blithe reply and he seems to be satisfied with what I said so I return to glancing out the window in silence. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch his reflection and I briefly examine the hands gripping the steering wheel. They're not like his either.
I can clearly feel the tension lingering between us as I attempt to force the drink down my throat. With a huge and noisy gulp, I set my glass down and met her eyes. She was studying me quite profusely. This only served to loudly chime the alarm bells further in my head. The next question that came out of her lips had literally knocked the air from my lungs, "What's her name?"
"Danny" I reply in a shaky voice. "His name's Danny", I repeat. Somehow saying his name a second time had made it easier for me to breathe. He gives me a forlorn look and a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Sorry" I mutter a bit incoherently. I close my eyes and looked down at my lap, as if doing so would make the situation less awkward.
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I offered to give, Mandy or Mindy, a ride home but she refused, ordering me to go to Montana's apartment and apologize my heart out, or until she shuts the door in my face. Even so, she commanded me to plant my butt in front of her door. I owed her. Alot. Probably something worth more than my own life.
I dip my hands in my coat pockets attempting to rid the numbing cold that has reached my bones. And a moment later, I see her. Back against the brick wall of a botique shop her head resting against the cold stone, her eyes closed. For what seemed like a moment stretched infintely, I look at her, tracing my eyes down the curve of her back and the slender arms that tightly clutched the closure of her coat. A faint hint of where her neck should be, covered up by the scarf I had given her.
I've messed up a lot of things in my life. My brother, Ruben, Aiden; I always knew and felt that I was responsible for them. And now her. It had crossed my mind that she may have blamed herself for what I have done. She probably even thought she wasn't good enough for me. But in the end, it were my own insecurities that had become my very downfall.
After tonight, though I realized that I couldn't be with anybody else but her. Thanks to Mandy, or I think her name was Mindy. It was ironic how I knew that tonight held a promising wake, but with the person whom I least suspected to spend the night with. It was also ironic how attempting to move on has actually helped me move on from a significant mistake I had made.
In that moment, I realized, of all the wrong decisions that I have made, this is the only one that I can make right.
With this thought securely tucked in the corner of my mind, I gather up the courage to walk the next few meters towards her and I call her name. "Montana"
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A/N: I was a bit doubtful about posting this (i.e. may have confused a lot of readers, poor writing style, etc.), but hopefully, it had been a great read.