Dear Readers,
Thanks for the reviews! Most of this bunch ended up being longer pieces than I expected to write, but they're still short. I apologize for any OOC-ness...anyway, hope you enjoy this next batch :)
Best Regards from a Bookworm (and obessive, crazy, did I mention obsessive? Tesla fangirl),
Miss Pookamonga ;-P
E: Embrace
She needs someone to hold her.
To catch her from falling.
She is trembling so violently from the shock of the ambush that she doesn't trust her legs to keep her body upright for much longer. She stares blankly at the empty space where that…thing…was towering over her companion just moments before, its jaws ajar and poised to crush him between its venomous fangs. It all happened so quickly that she can hardly believe that anything happened at all. The ghastly creature bounded out of the darkness towards an unsuspecting Henry, gathering momentum as it prepared to pounce upon its prey. She spied it in a split second, and without even thinking, she let out a bloodcurdling screech of terror and blindly fired her gun—shooting over and over and over again, screaming bloody murder until the creature collapsed lifelessly to the filthy ground, rattling the tunnel walls with the force of its impact.
"Kate."
He calls out her name, but she doesn't hear him. She just stares at the vacant space before her, her gun still poised to shoot, her hands gripping the handle so fiercely that her knuckles begin to turn white.
"Kate. Kate, it's okay…it's dead. I'm okay."
Suddenly, in a rush, everything comes crashing down on her, and the gun clatters to the floor as she erupts into a fit of tremulous sobs.
Her body is quaking so hard that her knees finally give out on her and she topples forward, only to be caught by Henry's strong arms firmly pulling her body against his. She buries her head in his chest and wails pathetically, forgetting all about trying to be the tough girl and standing on her own. She can't even force out any intelligible speech because her crying is so brutal and the emotional earthquake rippling through her body is too powerful for her to control. Her only salvation, her only comfort is Henry embracing her tightly in his arms, leaning his cheek against her hair and whispering that it's okay, that it's all over, that everything's fine and that she doesn't need to be afraid anymore. Because heaven knows she's afraid, she's utterly terrified of what can happen to her—what can happen to him—with this job. She's terrified of losing everything dear to her again—and although she doesn't have much that she's attached to anymore, somehow she has allowed herself to become attached to him, to this man that she only once looked upon as a mere associate, and to lose him will rip her apart in more ways than she wants to imagine. He is the one constant in her life now, the one person who can keep her from falling back into her old habits again and retreating back into that godforsaken state of indifference she has lived in for far too long. She needs him. Desperately.
So she presses herself closer to him in their embrace, praying that he won't ever let her go.
F: Fear
The visions have returned again, and once more, he knows he is afraid.
It's always been like this. The blinding flashes of light, the searing pain ripping through every particle in his body, the unbearable agony of watching his memories ceaselessly replay themselves before his eyes—the horrifying fits will plague him when he least expects them and then vanish as if they have never occurred. And they will not return for weeks, months at a time—long enough for him to become so occupied with his current obsessions that he will completely forget about them, only to be caught by dreadful shock when they suddenly seize him again.
He never knows when they will come. He never knows when those fits—both his curse and his blessing—will leap out from the shadows and ravage him until he is almost entirely stripped of what little sanity he still possesses. True, they have been the source of his greatest inspiration, but at a grave price. With blinding enlightenment comes terrifying fear, horrors of a past he would rather forget than relive. With visions of grandeur come visions of inadequacy, of a childhood robbed of innocence, of death. Of death, darkness, dying…of a horse rearing up on its hind legs, tossing its young, ill-fated rider to the hard ground. Of the insufferable screams and howls of his grieving mother asking why him, why? Of racing blindly through a dark forest as a storm rages wildly around him, of hiding in the abandoned sanctuary of a chapel, of sobbing desperately and begging God to please, please let him exchange places with his dead brother if only to make everyone happy again.
He remembers a quote he read once when he was absently browsing through Helen's library. "No one ever told me that grief felt so much like fear," the author C.S. Lewis had once said, and upon reading the words etched deep into the old, faded paper, Nikola instantly knew they were true.
True, because his grief is fear incarnate, horror that refuses to leave his soul at peace, terror that will afflict him until the moment of death, a death which he ironically dreads more than life itself.
G: Gift
"Here. I, uh…got this for you."
She furrows her brow in confusion. "You…got me a present? My birthday isn't until next month." She carefully takes the small, brightly wrapped package from his outstretched hand.
He shifts nervously on the balls of his feet, his gaze darting from one corner of the room to the other as he shoves his hands into his jean pockets. "Uh, yeah, I know. But I figured…a…I don't know." He laughs to himself, shaking his head as if he is suddenly realizing how stupid this all looks. "A…welcome back present. Or something. I guess."
"Oh."
"Since we missed you and everything…while you were—"
"You missed me?" Her face softens and a tiny smile breaks across her face. Instantly, he realizes that the question is referring only to him, and not to the collective whole of everyone at the Sanctuary.
He does nothing but gape at her for a few seconds before speaking. "I—of course I missed you, Ash. I mean, Ashley." Does she not think he cares about her? After all, it was he who risked his life trying to rescue her from the Cabal headquarters before they got the chance to drug her again.
Her expression is a mixture of delight, surprise, gratitude…and perhaps something else all at once. "Aww…" She glances down at the gift. "You're so sweet, Will. Thanks." Beaming, she reaches forward and grabs him in a tight hug.
He is so caught off-guard by the gesture that he feels as if all his breath has been stolen from his lungs. And there's an odd thrill burning in his stomach—and in his cheeks, for that matter. As he awkwardly lifts his arms to hug her back, the thrill intensifies, and he can't help but wonder if he's finally going insane.
She pulls away after lingering maybe just a bit too long. She smiles at him again—wait, is she blushing? No, he's imagining things. He must be. Ashley Magnus does not blush—
Or maybe she does. Her cheeks have turned ridiculously pink.
"I have to um, go…but I'll definitely open it later—thanks again," she beams at him once more, her blue eyes twinkling.
He decides that he likes it when she's happy. He likes it a lot. His stomach seems to agree with him.
"You're welcome." He grins feebly back at her, feeling like a dorky teenage boy again.
"Well…I'll see you later. At dinner." She grants him one last bright smile before waving and disappearing from sight.
"Right. Dinner…" he murmurs to himself, gazing dazedly out the doorway.
He can't remember the last time he's felt like this. It's amazing.
Oh, crap, he'd better not let Clara find out…
H: Heaven
She shuts her eyes and replays the scene in her head. Her fingers, barely brushing against his skin as she undoes the buttons on his shirt. His face, just inches from her own. His warm breath dancing across her lips as his beautiful eyes flicker up and down, gazing softly at her. His nose, scarcely rubbing against her cheek as his mouth moves closer to hers, almost touching…
Just thinking about it leaves her breathless.
So maybe it was the nubbins' fault. But she doesn't care.
She's had a little taste of heaven, and that's enough…
…well, except for the fact that he hasn't actually kissed her yet…
