It's a Long Fall From Heaven – Part I
A/N: Well, even though I haven't finished putting up my last one...I'm trying something different for a change...The mushiness has got to tone down a little bit...sheesh...I am such a romantic!! MEEEHHHH!!
...I will be okay.
Disclaimer: You know the drill...
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The rain had been pouring down for hours. A young man, around the age of twenty six, turned the corner, to walk down another dark street. It was a chilly evening, and he pulled his coat tighter to keep himself warm from the bitter wind. He thought he knew where he was going, but the entire city just seemed to be a completely different place every time he turned around.
He pulled out a map from his pocket, examining it. He tried to read the rain-splattered pages, but the ink had smeared, and the dim lights made everything look illegible. The wind blew harder, and his map flew out of his hands and disappeared down the street. He cursed aloud, and looked around him for a recognizable landmark. Darkness concealed everything he could see, and there were nothing but closed buildings and unfamiliar houses in view. He squinted his eyes, and saw a faint light in the distance. He had to walk against the wind, feeling weak as the gusts were coming in faster and faster still. The rain poured harder, and he fought against the storm that threatened to sweep him up with it.
After a long battle against the downpour, he reached a convenience store at a corner he didn't know. Pushing open the door, he heard the small ding of a bell, as the breeze blew in behind him. He shut it as quickly as he could, though there was much resistance. The wind had blown some newspapers onto the floor, and he went to pick them up, feeling a familiar ache in his back as he bent over. His foot slipped on one of them, and he went sprawling to the ground, his face contorted as he felt the contact that he knew would leave bruises in the morning. He heard someone speak behind him, and he jumped slightly.
"Are you allright, sir?" A woman's voice was heard. He turned around to meet a pair of ice blue
eyes.
"Um, y-yes," He stuttered, as he was surprised by both her presence, and her gaze. He tried to stand up, but slipped again, and laughed. She giggled and went over to him, holding out her hand. He took it, and nearly closed his eyes at the gentleness of her touch. Who was this woman?
She helped him up, and he brushed some dirt off his coat, before turning to her.
"The - uh - the wind… blew in, and - uh - you have - you have papers all over the place." He laughed embarrassedly, and gestured towards the pile of newsprint that was now covered in water from his clothes.
"Oh, I'll get it." She started to walk over, but he cut her off.
"No, let me."
"I would, but I don't think you'd want to fall over again, would you?" He laughed in embarrassment again.
"Hey, cut me some slack, it's wet out there!"
"Yeah, but that doesn't explain how you fell…twice." She added. He threw up his hands in defense.
"Allright, if you really don't want me to be a gentleman, then keep right on talking," he joked. She laughed.
"Oh, by all means, go right ahead." He nodded, and attempted to reach the papers on the floor. He lost his balance, and nearly fell again. She grabbed his shoulders, and steadied him, before picking the papers up herself.
"Really, it's okay, I've got it." He told her. She shook her head when he took them from her, "Now, um, where do they go?"
She laughed and took them back, filing them in front of the counter in a neat stack. She straightened them in a perfect line, and went behind the counter.
"Well, now that that moment is over, can I help you with something?" She smiled sweetly, as a cashier would to a stranger. Except, her outfit didn't look like she was just a cashier. He thought, maybe she was a manager, taking care of the store. Her eyes looked as if she was prepared to forget the whole thing. He got a little confused, and then finally remembered why he was there in the first place.
"Oh, uh - I was trying to find my friend's house - and it - uh - got really dark and - well, I sorta - "
"Got lost?"
"I wasn't lost!" He said, defensively. She stared at him. "Okay, I was lost."
She laughed. "Allright, where are you trying to go?"
"I - uh - I don't remember."
"Anything at all?"
"Nope. I lost my map."
"Well, maybe you should call your friend."
"Allright, do you have a phone here?"
"Actually, I was hoping you'd have a cell phone with you, the storm messed up our phone lines."
"Damn."
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault." He got himself caught in her eyes again, and smiled in a dazed sort of way. She pulled a face.
"What is it?" She asked, unwillingly self-conscious under his gaze, and fully aware of her blushing cheeks, and wandering eyes.
"Nothing." He replied, nonchalantly. The man in front of her, dripping wet, looked lost, confused, and above all, embarrassed. No matter how much she tried to deny it, he was indeed gorgeous. She mentally shook herself. How could she think that? She plastered on a smile.
"Maybe you should just go back, and call from home."
"I guess so. Allright, well, see you soon."
"No you won't," she smiled. He shrugged.
"I suppose I won't. Hey, do you always work here?"
"Yeah, I'm the manager."
"That's what I thought."
"How can you tell?" She asked, honestly. She leaned forward on the counter.
"You look the type. You look like a leader, someone who likes to take charge and get organized."
"Yeah?" Her face lit up. He nodded.
"And, plus, your pin says 'Manager'." She rolled her eyes, and stood up again.
"Shouldn't you be getting to a phone?"
"I'm in no rush." She turned around, and disappeared into a room in the back. He got confused for a moment, but then she emerged seconds later, with a bucket and mop in hand.
"Then you can help me clean up the water. You've dripped all over my floor."
"Okay, then, I'll help. But I have to ask you one thing."
"What?"
"Who are you?"
"Oh, right!" She set down the bucket, and held out her right hand. She saw that it had something on it, and wiped it on her pants, before holding it out again. "I'm Monica. My father actually owns the store, but I run it." He shook her hand.
"Ah, well, I'm Chandler. I don't own the business I work for, but it'd be boring just the same."
She giggled. He marveled in the sound of her voice. It was mature, and professional, but he could sense a more competitive and wild sense about her that was waiting to be unleashed. It made him wonder just what she was like, when permitted to reveal her true colors.
"It's very nice to meet you, Chandler."
She noticed him listening to her intently, as if he was trying to hear something beyond the words she was speaking. She started to feel a little uneasy, because he was so perceptive.
"Um," she started, "It's getting late, and I - uh, need to close up shop. Hope you find your way!" she chuckled uneasily, and he looked at her.
"I - uh - yeah, but um…what about your floor?"
"Oh, I got it, don't worry. Bye!" She spoke quickly, as if she wanted to get rid of him. He took the hint, and waved half heartedly, walking towards the door. He smiled as he shut it behind him, and she could have sworn she saw him wink before he turned away.
"Until we meet again," he whispered, and disappeared onto the street.
When he had vanished, she let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, it was just that she didn't want to look into the situation. She genuinely liked him, and she was sure he liked her, but she wasn't about to do anything about it.
She silently mopped up the water, not paying attention to the fact that she had cleaned the entire store. Her mind was elsewhere, then. She put everything up, and shut off the lights, grabbing her keys. She then left the store, without even a second glance back behind her.
Her drive home was also in silence. She hadn't even realized that she sat at a green light for a good thirty seconds, tuning out all the honking horns and the yelling drivers. She arrived home, just as mechanically as usual. She kicked her shoes off on the mat, and went into the living room. The clock on the wall read 12:30, and the television was on, playing cartoons, loudly. She shut it off, and turned to see her four-year-old son, Jonas, asleep on the couch, blanket in hand. She ruffled his jet black hair, and gently picked him up, carrying him to his bedroom. She tucked him in his bed, and kissed him on the forehead.
"Sleep tight, angel of mine," She whispered, and shut the door.
Walking back into her living room, she passed the door to her room on the way to her kitchen, finally understanding why her son had been watching television so loudly. She opened the door, and the sound grew louder. A man sat up quickly, and pulled the sheets around him, as a young blonde woman's head disappeared out of view under the covers. Monica was not surprised. In fact, she didn't even react, just shut the door quietly, and left the room. She walked back into the kitchen, and got out a glass of water. She opened the medicine cabinet, and took out a bottle of pills. Taking the small capsule out, she swallowed it, and put everything back in its proper place. Sitting down on the couch, she felt the warmth of the cushion where her son had been. Moments later, the sound began back again, louder this time, than ever. Jonas could not be heard from his room, so she didn't go check on him. Merely sat on her sofa, staring in front of her. She eventually fell asleep there as well, silently crying, and twirling her wedding band around her finger.
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