So, I'm not sure where this came from, but I'm writing this from a coffee shop, and the idea just jumped into my head. I hope you like, I want reviews please!
My other story, if you are reading it, Taking control by losing it, is currently on hold, because I'm having issues going back to that story plot, and I can't come up with any inspiration for it. Hopefully, you will read other short things like this and still like.
Besides my imagination, I own nothing, niente, nada, zippo, ect.
You see her sitting there, on a bench in Central Park, and you want to approach her. You know it must look weird that you, a man a little later in his years than she, is just sitting, a short bit across from her, just staring. Unfortunately, you know her, and even though you think you should go and say hello, you know she will hate you a little bit more for interrupting her. She can't see you, thanks to the fact the trees are swaying, and if she looked up, sensing your presence, you can be sure she won't approach you. It's in her nature to be distrustful; it's the history that you two have that will make her want to hug you, yet also shoot you between the eyes.
Too many things were left unsaid, and if you had tried, she would have protested and argued in that way only she can. You saved her from that experience, and she knows you took pity on her. That's why she would rather sit by herself at central park for days before she talked to you once.
Suddenly, you realize what an idiot you've been. Her head turns slightly upwards, up from her lap where they have been fixed for some time, and you finally realize. She has known you are there this whole time. Since she sat down across the small playground from where you are, she knew you would not leave nor approach her. She was counting on this knowledge of her emotions towards you to keep you rooted there, but away.
You continue to stare at her, now almost like looking at her for the first time in a long time. Her hair is slightly darker now, more like how it was when you first met her, but the highlights she had are still visible. Her dark pants are fitted, and go well with her black leather jacket, and the crimson blouse underneath. You can't see where her badge and gun are hidden, but you know her well enough to know they are there like always. She looks up to the playground, so that her eyes are fixed minimally to the right of you, and you know it is not just for you, but she is actually staring at the children play.
You wonder if she ever had the kids that she wanted, or married the man that she loved. You wonder if maybe her child is playing here right now. But, as you see her eyes focus on different children for varying lengths of time, you know she has not had a child. The emptiness in her eyes tells you that, and just for that brief moment, you want to rewind time and change the fact that you didn't help her.
Seeing how she shifts in her seat, you can tell she about to stand. You rise at the same time that she does, and she finally meets your eyes.
To an outsider, they would see two people who look up at the same time and share a glance, wondering what coincidence it is that you both stood at the same time. For the two of you however, it's the first actual meeting you have had for a year and a half, and only because the last time you tried to meet her, she threatened you.
You stand there a while, just looking at her, hoping she will do something, because you sure as hell can't. So you wait, and after a few moments, she breaks your gaze and begins to walk slowly towards the exit of the park. You stand there, wondering if you read her correctly, because she seems to want you to follow her. You wait just a split second, because she pauses for only half a step, and that is your cue.
You walk faster, so that by the time she is at her car, you are next to her, and again wait for her signal. She unlocks the car, and meets your eyes briefly over the top of the car, and takes the drivers seat, so you climb in next to her.
As she begins driving to god knows where, you realize, you haven't said a word to each other, and you don't know if she's going to talk to you at all or just take you somewhere isolated where she can kill you. Yet, you realize, you don't care. It doesn't matter because in her own way, she invited you with her to where ever you're going, and it's what you have been waiting for all this time.
So, I hope you review and no flames please. :)
So, the 'she' is supposed to be Olivia, I wrote it with her in mind. I would like to see who you pictured the man in this story, because I actually didn't write with a set person in mind. Or did I... well, tell me what you thought, and who you perceived the 'you'/ he to be.