Across the Sky
- By Ariel32 -
The week after his death, it rained.
She stood at the window with her fingers against the glass. Water ran down the panes. It engulfed the world in tears. And as it rained, tears would pool in her eyes. They would run down the line of her cheek and she would let them stay there, because they reminded her of what was gone. They reminded her of ache that was inside, and she would hope that with every drop she cried it would lessen the pain. Lessen the pain, but not the memory.
Because no matter how much it hurt to remember, she would remember than forget. She wanted to be able think of his dark eyes like it was yesterday that she'd seen them. She wanted to feel the warmth of his shoulder against hers like it was really there. She wanted to see the way his mouth curved into a smile and hold it close to her heart – because no matter how sharp edge of pain, no matter the heavy hollowness inside her, Aeris still couldn't stand not having him as part of her.
She stood alone at the window, and watched the rain.
With every tear that fell from crystal green eyes, she prayed that he would know she was thinking of him.
-o-
At night, she ate alone.
She never had been a great cook, but here, in the darkness around her, Aeris realized she was a terrible cook. She really was. She found herself eating bread one day – bread from the bakery down the street around the corner, dry, because she wasn't hungry and because she hadn't anything to go with it anyway. For a moment there was overwhelming urge to burst into tears. The bread shook in delicate hands. It threatened to drop to the plate. It threatened to crumble into pieces.
And then suddenly, she had to laugh.
It wasn't that it was so funny – just, the moment. She was laughing at herself – laughing because she knew, if he was there, he would be staring. He would come over and say in that incredulous voice Dry bread for dinner? Are you kidding?
He would make fun of her. And then he would make her dinner. He would take her out, maybe. And when they were finished eating, he would look at her and smile. And that smile – it would mean so much.
She swept up the crumbs and put them in the trash. She washed the plate. Just before she closed the cabinet door on her stack of dishes, she paused.
Was he thinking of her, now?
A single tear rolled her cheek.
-o-
A week after his death she stood in the doorway of her church. She looked out at the world, masked in a veil of gray drizzle. She could barely see across the street. She could barely make out the tiles of the road.
She picked a flower from her garden and held it up in one hand. It was so beautiful. So golden and pristine and imperfect. The stem was so tender. The petals were so poised. She looked at the flower until her eyes hurt from their color, and then she looked up at the sky.
He was thinking of her now, she was sure. She knew he was. Surely, even as far away from each other as they were now, he still knew she loved him. And she still knew he loved her.
She couldn't bear to leave the flower outside but she didn't want to take it in with her. So when the next person to pass by her church came down the street, Aeris stepped into the rain. She offered him – it was an old man – the flower. "It's a beautiful day," she said.
It really was.
-o-
Zack?
Yeah.
You'll remember me, won't you?
…… Of course.
