someday
. . . we'll see each other again." Too bad promises are meant to be broken.
She sighed, retreating after a lost battle.
Paused. Turned back around.
"Are you sure - "
"Yes, Madame, I am sure."
"But - "
"I'm sorry I would let you know if I could believe me when I say that I can't."
It seemed like a rush of words to her. A string of lies.
And even after the fiftieth time of hearing it, she still couldn't comprehend it.
Nodding slowly, she walked out of the glass building, not looking back.
She would never look back.
"Why doesn't it surprise me that you've made it this far?" he asked, the day after she passed the interview.
"Did you have any doubts?" she retorts, raising an eyebrow.
"I suppose not," he says. "I've just always imagined you as a historian of a such."
"Historian?"
"Amy the Archeologist. You must admit; it has a ring to it," he told her, grinning.
"Maybe you should have been journalist."
"I'd rather be the boyfriend."
She sat under the apple tree in the park, trying hard to concentrate on the book, and the book only.
It didn't help that children were running and screaming in the playground five blocks away from her. It didn't help that the birds were all singing and chirping; the joyous sign of an early spring.
It especially didn't help when an apple landed on her head.
She finally gave up, slamming the book shut and walking away with razor-sharp steps back to her apartment.
Everyone was so happy.
And all she think is, why couldn't I be?
"I like this place," she said, putting her hands on her hips.
"You like anything that I don't like," he says, accusingly.
"Not true. I just like things that are more . . . simple."
"The other house was simple."
"I wouldn't call it a 'house', exactly."
Before he could open his mouth to argue again, she cut him off, saying,
"It was the Presidents old mansion, Ian. Enough said."
Amy smiled at the way Ian sighed and shook his head, perhaps because he was defeated. But, a moment later, he looks up with a smirk on his face.
She gapes at him when he says,
"Too bad I already bought it."
"Too bad we never had the chance to live here. You and I together, that is," she murmurs, to no one in particular.
No one was there to hear her, anyway.
Standing in front of the grand gateway, she stares off at a distance. The beautiful grass garden with the polished stone fountain smack in the middle with water spurting out of a giant lily.
The scenery was beautiful - no words would be able to describe its perfection.
Is he here right now, basking in luxurious life that I had turned down . . . instead of sharing it with her?
She starts walking away, just in case someone saw her. She wouldn't know what to say to them.
Should I have just have agreed to live here? She shakes that thought away.
He knew she loved smaller things, and respected that. He just could never figure out why.
One of the many reasons she loved him.
"Is it my turn already?"
"Yes."
"Must I?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because roommates take turns doing things. It's your turn this time."
"Perhaps a rain check . . . "
"You took one last week."
"I could - "
"Stop complaining. You could've taken the trash out already," she says, glaring at him. "Why do I feel like your stalling?"
He smiles. "Because I am."
She watched the garbage man dumping the glossy black bags into the back of the truck.
He never liked doing these things. He was used to Kabra royalty.
I wonder how he's doing now.
She picks up the phone. And hesitates. Again.
Come on, Amy, you can't keep doing this, she scolds herself. He gave you his number for a reason.
A sudden realization hits her like lightning.
And you gave him yours. Why hasn't he called?
So she hangs up. Again.
"How many times are you going to do that?"
She doesn't respond.
"Amy."
"Yeah?"
"You'll have to face him, anyway. Don't keep hanging up. It's just either now or never."
"Never."
"Amy."
"Yeah?"
"It isn't that serious."
She turns on him. "I spilled juice on my boss's suit during a meeting with the people who is probably the future of the business. And you're saying it isn't that serious? Ian, my boss could fire me."
"He's not," Ian says, leaning back.
"How can you be so sure?" she demanded.
"Didn't he already schedule you to be part of the second meeting next week?"
Logic. Stupid logic. Cruel words. He was cruel without even realizing it.
She now sits alone in the restaurant. She orders a steak; without even realizing that she isn't even hungry.
Sighing, she recalls the day that he brought her here.
He was cruel without even realizing it.
"Why here?" she asked, gasping slightly at the chandeliers.
Her hand is within his, but it feels as cold as ever. His demeanor is unchanging - as blank as ever.
"I have something to tell you." His voice is soft, but keeps it strong and demanding for all her attention.
"Ian, is everything alright?" she can't help but asking.
"It depends." He lets go of her hand and sits on the opposite side.
After a moment of silence, realization slowly dawns on her. "Your father?"
He nods. She understood. "I have to leave tomorrow morning."
"Have you ever seen her?"
"Never."
She sighs inwardly. "When is the wedding?"
"Two months."
Another awkward pause.
"I'll help pack."
"You don't have - "
"I want to."
"Amy." He puts his hand on hers once again. It doesn't stop her vision from blurring. "You have my number. You can call anytime you want. And visit anytime."
"I don't know where you'll live."
"You will, soon enough."
She blinks rapidly, not wanting to appear weak. "Y-You can call me, too, if there's anything you n-need help with."
He nodded again. "Of course."
And now, when she's sure there are no more tears threatening to spill, she looks at him in the eye. "Will I ever . . . see you, again?"
"You will. Don't worry, Amy," he said, and there's a hint of sureness in his voice. "Someday . . . we'll see each other again." It sounded like a promise.
Too bad promises are meant to be broken.
She walks back to the glass building (even his workplace was luxurious) after two days. If there was one thing he taught her, it was to never give up.
The man behind the large, polished desk smiles, as if saying, "You're back, eh?"
She doesn't let that change her expression.
"Is he - " she begins, but is cut off.
"Mr. Kabra has been expecting you," the man interrupts.
At first, she is speechless. He has?
Then, slowly, she recollects all her thoughts and all the things she has been wanting to say from the beginning.
"Amy?"
She turns to face the oh-so-familiar voice and slightly tilts her head. "Ian?"
They both grin at the same time, and she walks forward into his warm embrace.
But this promise is an exception.
A/N: Before you all kill me for not writing a story in two months, I come bearing excuses! Okay, so we all have upcoming Regents/State exams (based on your grade, obviously), and I have been very busy. So, this idea just popped into my head when I was in the middle of reading "The Dead of Night" (awesome book, by the way) and I was like, 'Oh, okay. Let's just see how it turns out.' A typical Amy-and-Ian-were-together-but-couldn't-be-anymore-for-what-so-ever fanfiction. (Originally, in the end, Amy wasn't supposed to find Ian, but then I felt more generous and changed it to a happy ending :D)
A special thanks to clara0414 for reviewing and looking this over (aha, and now I'm an expert at editing stories xD). Without her; well . . . this one-shot would have some unnoticeable but life-changing mistakes (there I go with the exaggerations again, but you know what I mean).
And, I know that most of you must be confused (admittedly, I even confused myself at one point). The first scene is the present. It shows Amy going into a glass building and searching for whatever she's searching for. Obviously, she fails to find it. And that part where the man said, "I'm sorry I would let you know if I could believe me when I say that I can't." It was meant to be a run-on sentence (hence: It seemed like a rush of words to her.) So . . . yeah.
The second scene is a flashback. Amy just passed her interview and got a job. Obviously, Ian and Amy are dating (I was going to make them friends at first, but then felt too lazy :P). The third scene shows the present, the fourth scene shows another flashback, the fifth scene is the present, and so on. I was going make the flashbacks italic but . . . meh. You get it though, right? Kind of? (Aha, I'm really weird.) If there are still any things that I have to clarify, just PM me or review :)
And, even though I said that it was an idea that I just thought of, I remember reading something like this here, on FF. But I just can't put my finger on it . . . I just wanted to let everyone know that I didn't intend to copy/steal anyone's ideas, and if you do have something similar to this, I apologize (and I'll delete the story if you request it).
Happy-rest-of-the-spring-break everybody!