PERCHANCE
Above, as far as the eye can see, baked golden grasses wave in the wind below summer-blue skies. Even the flat roof in front of me is topped with those tumbling spires.
Below, at eye level, the heavy concrete crossbeam shines white, as do the steps leading down from my bare feet.
As I take one step down, then another, the skirt of the aqua cotton dress I wear slips and slides over my thighs, sending a soft whisper out into the void. A light breeze flows up, pulling at my loosened hair, wrapping a few of the long fair strands around my shoulders.
Another step down and I can see the void is bright, although the light is indirect, coming from several places.
One step from the bottom, I stop to briefly look around.
Bare white concrete in all directions, large beams arching up into the roof. Some dozen steps away, another flight of white stairs runs gracefully back up through a space between the roof trusses.
To the left, a smooth wall the colour of milk rises with a window space cut into it opposite the foot of those stairs, and I'm drawn towards it.
One step down to the concrete floor, then more across until I reach the window, laying my hands on the broad white sill as I look out.
A velvet green valley flows away from the window, a cluster of birches with shimmering gold leaves frames one side with a hill rising on the other, and a sheet of silvered water in between.
In the distance, layers of hills shine blue and purple in the summer light and close by a white magnolia drops gentle petals onto dappled moss by a trickling stream.
Mesmerised by the beauty, I sit on the sill, my back against the frame, pulling my skirt back a little to lift one leg, clasp my arms around it and rest my chin on my knee as I continued to gaze out. My other leg swings down and my heel taps softly once against the wall, in time with the sound of a soft footstep.
My foot stills, but the footsteps continue slowly, the sound of leather on the concrete stairs. No pauses, as I had done. It gets louder as they get closer.
They don't stop at the bottom, but the pace remains slow and deliberate towards me. I cannot turn my head.
Another few steps, and then in my peripheral vision I see first one then another scuffed boot, battered but clean, and long, strong legs in worn blue denim.
An odd feeling surrounds me, one I don't understand. This man would protect, guide and cherish me, yet I don't even know him.
An exhaled breath, not quite a sigh, then a cool strong hand lifts and slowly turns my chin up and up.
Oh! He's beautiful. Big, bad and beautiful.
So very tall, with a commanding stance and a muscular physicality speaking of years of hard work. I see all that as my gaze sweeps up his long body, across the wide shoulders, to the strong face with the subtle dent in the strong chin. But it's his eyes that catch and hold me.
Under arching quizzical brows the rich colour of the grasses above us, they are the intense blue of a long frozen glacier, yet contain so much passionate heat I burn and so much intelligence I blush.
I cannot look away although I struggle to, and they soften in a mix of patience and amusement.
Another long moment, then he bends towards me, his long fingers lifting to my cheek. His beautiful sculpted lips fleetingly brush my forehead, settling for just a moment longer at the corner of my mouth.
But as I lean trustingly into his hand, my face turning to capture those lips more fully, he is gone, with just a two syllabled whisper remaining in my ear. My mind does not quite comprehend the word as I twist to slide my foot off the sill and stand, my gaze flying to the right.
A long blond mane captured loosely by a black tie at the nape of his neck, flows down the broad back of his white linen shirt, pointing the long way from his beautiful butt down those powerful legs to the feet walking away towards the stairs I'd come down.
One foot lifts to the first stair, then he pauses and his head turns. His face has changed and his eyes are now full of pain and doubt. His hand does not lift towards me, yet I know he wants me with all the considerable strength in his mind and soul. And as his head turns back towards the stairs, I could swear there's a glint of red in the corners of those ageless eyes.
Only his whisper remains.
'Lover'.
I woke in a puddle of contentment, knowing only I'd dreamed, but with no memory of the dream save it was beautiful. I could hear Gran moving around in the kitchen, singing along with the radio which was playing one of the old fashioned songs she loved to work by. Showered and dressed, I wandered into the kitchen.
'Hey sweetie, how was work last night? I was asleep before you came home, sorry.'
'Book too boring to keep you awake, huh Gran?' I gently teased her. She always tried to stay awake until I got home when I did the evening shift at Merlotte's Bar and Grill, but as she got older it was becoming harder for her to stay awake, and rather than let her feel bad, I came up with all sorts of excuses for her.
'Oh hush.' Her eyes told me she wasn't fooled for a moment. 'The day Danielle Steele doesn't hold my interest will be the day I put my bifocals away.' Her eyesight was still 20/20.
As we ate lunch the news came on the radio, and first up was a mention of vampires and their doings, as was normal since the 'Great Reveal.'
'I wonder if we'll ever see one in Bon Temps?' We both spoke at the same time, and then laughed.
'I guess if we really wanted to we should take a trip to New Orleans. I hear you can't miss hitting one there if you throw a rock down the main street.' I said, deadpan.
We looked at each other, then grinning widely, burst out together.
'But you'd better not try!'
In the afternoon I sunbathed in the garden, catching up on a few z's before I went to work at six.
I'd been waiting for the vampire for years when he walked into the bar…
