A.N: Hi! So this is the first shot of the "collection". I don't know how much I will write but the second one is almost ready. What I write here probably will be different because I use another technic (I randomly chose a pic, describe it and what would happen in that moment). Anyway, what I wanted to say is that all your reviews are welcomed. What you have to say is important - your critics help me to improve my writing and it's always pleasant to see that someone take the time comment my work. By the way, since English is not my mothertongue, let me know if there's any huge mistake.
Okay, this is such a big "A.N", I'm sorry!
Thank you,
The Passenger.
Autumn in Chicago.
Word of mouth goes fast and yesterday it said that he picked her up at the firm in the late evening for dinner. He drove them out of the big city and when they arrived, he opened her door and took her hand pretending it was in order to help her getting out of the car.
The night was dark, the starlight couldn't go through the opaque sky, but the red light of a sun dead for his beloved was reflected on the huge flaky rock, giving to the purity of its white some bloody orange halos of light. The moon was burning above the skyscrapers.
Slowly, that unbearable temperature Chicago went through during the day was lowing, and the clouds – stuffy and glad to meet again – thundered a stormy coming.
The monument that rose itself at ten meters away; the fountain; the beauty of the scene left her speechless and she left his hand. Under that heavy temperature the time had stopped.
Through the wall glasses, Diane saw the top of the crop having dinner. The chandeliers and the artificial lights that was shining in the Martha Graham Center Company hugged the warm tones displayed by the moon. Full, imposing, between two buildings, we thought she could reach the moon, and stretching her hand to that land nobody has never really conquered, fell on her cheek a cold and fragile drop. The thunderstorm broke out and the rain streamed on her hand, through her gold mane, dying on the silk of her shirt and on her naked legs.
Kurt was staring at his own planet wishing that one of these days, he will win her over, thrill her and take her away from here.
Suddenly he took her hand again and start running away from the rain with her to the building. Their bursts of laughter mingled with the lapping of water on the street.
The place and the hour didn't mean a thing for Diane. Not anymore. The only thing that mattered was the way he looked at her. No need of word, at that very moment she knew what he didn't dare to voice. She was the sun, she produced her own light. He loved her.
Sitting in a bar counter chair, a young woman in a black three holes dress was singing Autumn in New York – and if you had closed your eyes, you would have thought it was Ella Fitzgerald – for the customers that barely took care.
Neither Diane nor Kurt had said a word since they left Stern, Lockhart and Gardner. It was their second date. No one of them had felt the need to fill the silence but while waiting for a waiter to take them to their table, he said a bit hesitantly "I can drive you back if you want" but his cold tone let hear something that he didn't mean at all so he added "I mean… It's rather late and you didn't expect me to take you out for dinner, I should have call you and ask you… And now with the rain, you're damp. I'm sorry…" But he hadn't call because he really wanted to see her and was afraid Diane would decline after a first date spent talking about their politically opposite views; he didn't want to drive her back to her home now for the same reasons; and dinner didn't thrill him but it was the only thing he had found to see her again.
"I'm glad to have dinner in town with the man out of Melville" she said. "I love this place. I hadn't have the time to eat today; I'm starving so late or not, it's the perfect time to have dinner..."
"So… it's fine?" Kurt asked.
"It is fine."
On their way back, the rain stopped and the stars finally appeared. It was almost midnight when he stopped the car in front of her door house. Kurt jumped out to open her. Who knew she loved the gentlecowboy kind?
Under the entrance porch, wine running through her blood and dizzing her brain, holding the door handle, she kissed his cheek. That simple contact made the both of them shivered and hesitating then no longer, "you want come in?" she barely whispered. It wasn't in Diane's habits to bring a man home; sleep with him; say him goodbye in the middle of the night and never think about it again. At that very moment she wasn't thinking about having sex with this man. Her proposition simply sounded right. Since their previous date, she hadn't stopped thinking about him – his laugh, his few but always relevant words, and his hands, his smile, the way he looked at her… Kurt was not not just a date, he was the man she wanted to kiss again and again, the man she would have like to talk with all day long and all night long. At first his lake of reaction made her feel so uncomfortable that her heart started to beat out of her chest.
"I'm sorry, that was stupid" she said clearing her throat and stepping back. "Thank you for dinner, it was a nice evening" she added.
But while she turned around to finally open the door, she felt his hand on her lower arms and heard the voice she already loved too much answering just next to her "I would love to" and he kissed her. His lips turned her upside down and the reality became a foggy cloud; a cloud that carried her away until he add "but maybe I should go".
And instead of going away, his lips came back on hers in a deeper kiss.
Letting his hands pulling her closer, she opened the door. They stepped in. She closed the door with a foot.
The time was not anymore.
Thank you for reading!
As I said before, all your reviews are welcomed!
The Passenger.