AN: Well here is the next chapter. I think that it is nowhere near as well written as the first (not that the first was any good). Anyway, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed. I started jumping round the room when I saw them. Someone actually bothered to read it. This chapter is sort of some back story about Lara and Alex's relationship and has absolutely no plot relevelance which I promise I will sort out eventually. Any suggestions or absolutely anything at all you want to say, please do. If anyone wants to contact me by email, it's not actually working at the moment as hotmail have decided to give me lots of error messages.
Chapter 2
I ignored the headlights of the cars dawdling along at 80 that I overtook automatically. I was angry. Angry at him for daring to show his face and so making me remember and angry at myself for feeling weak and for last night.
Last night, I dreamt about him. I usually ignore my dreams especially any that involve Mr West. They're forgotten about before breakfast. But these images stayed with me. Haunting me all day, shadowing my movements. Everything I saw or even heard, I unconsciously linked back to him. The items he had helped me find, the book he had been reading on so many plane trips, yet still never managed to finish.
It wasn't really a dream but a visual mosaic of our 'moments'. So many from Tibet, searching for different kinds of enlightenment together. I'd finally decided that I loved him and wanted us to spend our lives together. Hell, I was even prepared to live in the States and become an American, just to be with him. Now, I suppose I hadn't exactly given that impression though. I'd started an argument with him over nothing just to have space to decide. That night he left with the prayer wheels and the remainder of my heart.
I've never forgiven him and you could say I hate him. I hate him for being him, for making me fall in love. I hate him making me want to weak. For wanting his arm around me.
I never told Hillary and Bryce what happened in Tibet between us but they know not to mention his name. Alex always has annoyed the hell out of Bryce and the feeling's mutual. He does that to anyone he meets. Anyway, I could have almost dismissed the dream as nothing has it not been for the fact I had called his name involuntarily when Hillary woke me this morning. As it was Hilly, I suppose it doesn't matter too much but still I can't deny that there is something anymore. I'm just glad it wasn't Bryce – then it would be a different matter entirely.
I wonder what he wanted to speak to me about. Nothing important I suppose, knowing him. We used to talk so much before Tibet – random inane conversations. We never could remember who'd started them. I miss the way he used to make me laugh so easily in a way only he could.
Frustrated, I shake my head. Concentrate on driving. Snap out of it. I keep telling myself. There is no way for that to happen again. Times have changed. I've moved on. Anyway, if I let him close, I'm scared, yes scared, he'll hurt me like only he can. I simply don't do scared. So logic tells me the easy answer – just don't let him close.
Satisfied with my conclusions, in my head if not my heart; I pulled into the driveway. The gates safely closing behind, separating me from Mr West.
Chapter 2
I ignored the headlights of the cars dawdling along at 80 that I overtook automatically. I was angry. Angry at him for daring to show his face and so making me remember and angry at myself for feeling weak and for last night.
Last night, I dreamt about him. I usually ignore my dreams especially any that involve Mr West. They're forgotten about before breakfast. But these images stayed with me. Haunting me all day, shadowing my movements. Everything I saw or even heard, I unconsciously linked back to him. The items he had helped me find, the book he had been reading on so many plane trips, yet still never managed to finish.
It wasn't really a dream but a visual mosaic of our 'moments'. So many from Tibet, searching for different kinds of enlightenment together. I'd finally decided that I loved him and wanted us to spend our lives together. Hell, I was even prepared to live in the States and become an American, just to be with him. Now, I suppose I hadn't exactly given that impression though. I'd started an argument with him over nothing just to have space to decide. That night he left with the prayer wheels and the remainder of my heart.
I've never forgiven him and you could say I hate him. I hate him for being him, for making me fall in love. I hate him making me want to weak. For wanting his arm around me.
I never told Hillary and Bryce what happened in Tibet between us but they know not to mention his name. Alex always has annoyed the hell out of Bryce and the feeling's mutual. He does that to anyone he meets. Anyway, I could have almost dismissed the dream as nothing has it not been for the fact I had called his name involuntarily when Hillary woke me this morning. As it was Hilly, I suppose it doesn't matter too much but still I can't deny that there is something anymore. I'm just glad it wasn't Bryce – then it would be a different matter entirely.
I wonder what he wanted to speak to me about. Nothing important I suppose, knowing him. We used to talk so much before Tibet – random inane conversations. We never could remember who'd started them. I miss the way he used to make me laugh so easily in a way only he could.
Frustrated, I shake my head. Concentrate on driving. Snap out of it. I keep telling myself. There is no way for that to happen again. Times have changed. I've moved on. Anyway, if I let him close, I'm scared, yes scared, he'll hurt me like only he can. I simply don't do scared. So logic tells me the easy answer – just don't let him close.
Satisfied with my conclusions, in my head if not my heart; I pulled into the driveway. The gates safely closing behind, separating me from Mr West.