"Zephyr? You home?" Odd called, closing the door behind him as he sifted through the mail. There was a thunder at the other end of the apartment, then she came flying into him, knocking him over and sending the mail fluttering in the air.
"Sure am," She laughed, kissing his cheek before letting him and gather up the mail.
"I give you a nine. You didn't stick your landing but the kiss was a nice touch," He joked, picking up a hand-addressed envelope. "Hey, here's one from Jeremie and Aelita." He slit open the envelope messily, unfolding the letter and reading silently before handing it to his waiting girlfriend.
"Hey, there's a picture here too," Zephyr noted, shaking the envelope she'd retrieved off the floor until a Polaroid fell into her hand.
"Awww, he's beautiful," Zephyr sighed, gazing into the picture.
"Lemme see," Odd sat next to her on the couch sharing the view of the photo, which on the bottom read:
"Bryce Belpois, born April third, 2005," Along with his weight, length, and exact time of birth.
"He's got his mom's eyes." Odd smiled.
"And his dad's face," Zephyr looked up at her boyfriend who was still swooning and smiling dreamily over the picture of Aelita and Jeremie's son.
"You want one, don't you?" She teased. Odd snapped out of his reverie to look at her, a little confused.
"Want a what?"
"A kid, you goof. You know you like children." Zephyr reappeared from the kitchen where she'd magneted the Polaroid to the refrigerator. She fell on him, head in his lap.
"Kids are great," His dreamy tone faded into something akin to pity as he stroked her hair, "But we're not married."
"Not to mention I'm barren," Zephyr rolled over on her back and he sighed.
"Don't look at it like that, babe. You know there's a way," He was cut off by her getting up and turning slightly away from him.
"No way. We discussed this. There's not a chance in the world I'd do that. It'd be your kid and the donor's kid and I'd just be some shell, a host for nine months. You know I can't do that."
"Oh, you know I'd never make you do that," He consoled, putting an arm around her shoulders and placing his lips to her head. "Are you sure that there's no chance in the world you can conceive naturally?"
"Positive." She answered shortly, though not angrily. "Our only choice is adoption."
"See? We still got a chance," He said, leaning back and bringing her with him. Zephyr picked up the rest of the mail, dismissing the earlier subject to toss away credit card scams and offers of useless gadgets. "Man, how many things do they send to us? Can't they catch a hint?" She flashed her confidant a smile but he knew she was troubled.
"Zeph…"
"Don't apologize, Love. It's just me." She assured. "Now this one here is insane…"
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Odd gulped. Never had he known this level of mortal fear. Everyone faces this degree of terror in this lives, for different reasons and at different times. Zephyr was asleep, collapsed after an exhausting day at work. Odd had gotten her to stay awake by turning the television on mute and taking turns making up different voices to The Golden Girls. But when 7 o'clock had rolled around and the set was turned off. He'd left her lean fully on the couch and was sitting cross-legged at her head as summer rain dripped down the windowpanes. The amber-eyed man fingered something in his pocket, then jumped lightly to the floor as a cat might, shaking her shoulder gently, very gently.
"Hey, wake up, sweetheart," He whispered. She jumped slightly but her tension relaxed under his voice and the sight of his face.
"Hmm?" She yawned, running a hand through his spiky golden hair.
"Wanna go for a walk?" He asked. Nodding, she shook the last traces of sleep from herself and followed him out the door.
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"Why are we walking in the rain?" She asked, eyes matching the sky in their marbled indecision. Odd shrugged nervously, hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans to hide their trembling.
"Remember our first kiss? That was in the rain," He didn't say it in a justifying or indignant manner, just a nostalgic, off beat in the way he said the words.
"Yeah. Aside from that, that day was miserable. But I got away from my father. Of course, that also meant I had to be away from you after we finally got together."
"Why did it take us so long anyway? To get together, I mean." A shrug was the answer he got.
"We were kids. We didn't understand until we hit puberty. It was good though, in the end. Lots of kids date as strangers and get their hearts broken."
"It sure was. You know what?" His voice was beginning to shake a little and he silently cursed it, because he didn't want her to catch on to his plan.
"What?"
"We're amazing, aren't we?" He asked, forgetting what he was going to say and pulling her close to him as he pulled his hands out of his pockets.
"We sure are," She answered, slipping her hand into his as they walked along, nearing the coffee shop. They didn't go in this time; Zephyr started to but Odd had pulled her arm gently so they sat against their usual wall, both of them soaked and tired. They'd both pulled full shifts and since the red head hadn't finished her nap, the fatigue was catching up to her. Odd was wired and shaking as if he'd just eaten about a pound of sugar and was crashing horribly in a downward spiral.
"Here, stand up," He whispered, and she tiredly did so, eyes half closed. He remained on both knees and his hand emerged from his pocket as his held his winning smile in place. The girl standing above him cocked her head in confusion, even as he held the ring out to her with both hands, as if in offering. It was simple; an emerald and a smaller sapphire adorned the ring, which was weaved as a Celtic knot would be.
"Will you marry me?" At this his girlfriend's dilated eyes snapped open and she stared at him, then tackled him once again as she often did, yelping in delight. She landed on top of him and kissed him.
"That's a 'yes' I suppose," He laughed, hand on her back as he pulled himself into an upright position and slid the ring onto her finger.
"My god you're wonderful," She whispered to him, then kissed the side of his face lightly. "But you don't taste different." He laughed with her and kissed her and kept kissing her, kept kissing this woman he'd loved since before he was a teenager, before he knew what love was. He kept kissing the one that had literally fallen back into his life yet they were able to pick back up right where they'd started. Finally they separated to find everything moving and flowing around them in perfect unison.
And she kissed him as well, kissed this wonderful man who had helped her up when others wanted nothing more than to knock her down. She kissed this man who had been her very best friend for what seemed like forever, and she couldn't-wouldn't-remember anything before. She showed this wonderful boyish guy who had saved her and had just offered her his protection for life her love for him.
They broke apart and, ignoring the stares they received from the small crowd that had gathered, headed back to their apartment, Odd's hand around her shoulders, her hand around his slim waist. The newly engaged pair didn't look back to see the frequenting poetry slammers scribbling down thoughts in notebooks or on napkins, their public show of affection the spark of inspiration of a rarely good poem to echo in the walls of the brick coffee shop. Their wonderful friend-love relationship was to be remembered briefly by the minds behind the marijuana eyes and then forgotten until their hands with scarred wrists turned to a page in a forgotten journal perhaps a decade later.
And those poetry readers, those writers would remember.
They would remember the day that they saw two people for once, unafraid.
For the first time, Odd Della Robbia and Zephyr Blitz were completely unafraid.
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Author's Note:
Ok, for the anonymous reviwer who was slightly offended by the fact that Odd has no Italian characteristics, I mentioned in the very first chapter that he was half Norweigian, thus he could show more Norweigian traits. I went with the Italy/Norway roots because "Della Robbia" is an Italian surname meaning "Of the Robbia" and "Odd" is a Norweigian name meaning "point of a spear" or "point."Go visit the official site and you'll see that his surname is not of my making, so technically, my facts are straight(so you might want to talkt ot he people who make him a full blooded Italian instead of giving him some room for different traits.) Thank you.