Jeffrey stared out the window of his small, one-bedroom flat. Rain poured in rivulets down the cold glass, and Jeffrey found himself tracing the patterns they made with his eyes, guessing where they would go next, being logical. No, he thought bitterly. That's Skye's job.
Skye listened to the light, airy music playing in the elevator as she pressed the button for the fourth floor. It was a lovely piano piece, and Skyle found herself picking out the rises and falls of the tune as she stood there in the dim little elevator, her back pressed against the cold metal wall. No, she thought bitterly. That's Jeffrey's job.
Every day he missed her. He missed the simple beauty of her short blonde bob, the fathomless depths of her blue eyes, and the sharp words that escaped her lips almost hourly. He missed the way he would drive her home after a long day at work, and the way she would sit in the passenger seat, unusually quiet, with her finger touching his arm in a way Jeffrey had come to realize meant I love you.
But that was over.
Every day she missed him. She missed his tousled hair, the dark green pools that were his eyes, the gentle way he would touch her and pull her close. She missed the way he would smile at her when she came home late - to heck with that, she missed his smile, period. And she missed the food he always made her when she was sick, or sad, or both. Stuffed green peppers. They never got old.
But that was over.
Jeffrey went back to his piano. He played a few notes of Gershwin's Summertime, remembering the joy of Pointe Mouette. He remembered waking up every morning with Skye just a few feet away. He remembered the magic of the camp fire, and the wishes to the Firegod. But most of all he remembered first seeing Skye cry – it was when he realized that Skye was really very human, and not some beautiful, ethereal being. It was a moment Jeffrey would never forget.
Skye entered the classroom and took her seat at the front of the room. Among the sheets and sheets of organized numbers and calculations, she found a picture that made uncharacteristic tears spring to her eyes. Jane had gone through a brief photography phase, and had insisted on following Skye and Jeffrey around one winter day in Cameron. One of her pictures had turned out wonderfully, and Skye held it in her hands now. Jeffrey was kissing Skye's cheek while they laughed at a joke Skye could no longer recall. Skye was holding a snowball in the photo, and she remembered with amusement smashing the snowball into his head seconds after the picture had been taken. It was a moment Skye would never forget.
But that was over.
Or was it?
Skye stood up abrubtly, not bothering to even excuse herself from class as she grabbed her things and bolted. Down the stairs, out the door, into the rainy Boston streets. She sprinted down the sidewalk, coat flapping, hair flying, mind whirling around one thought, and one thought only - Jeffrey.
Jeffrey stood up abruptly, slamming the piano lid down and bolting out the door of his apartment. He flew down the steps, out the door, and into the Boston downpour. He bolted down the sidewalk, feet pounding, eyes stinging, mind whirling around one thought, and one thought only - Skye.
She spotted him. An angel if she ever saw one, tall and lean, with dark hair and perfect green eyes she could see from hundreds of yards away, long legs in a blur as he sped down the sidewalk towards - her?
He saw her. An unreal creature, slim and beautiful, with light hair and flashing blue eyes he could see from hundreds of yards away, legs pumping as she sped down the sidewalk towards - him?
Skye.
Jeffrey.
Skye and Jeffrey.
"You met me halfway." Skye breathed as they came to a stop, grinning from ear to ear.
"Yeah, so?" Jeffrey said, grinning just as wide.
"Shut up and kiss me, you idiot."
One era might have been over, but for them, it was just the beginning.