Chapter Nine – Calm
The cool yellow dawn made its presence known, slipping beneath Spock's eyelids. An unusual warmth curling against his chest pulled him swiftly from his placid reverie. He rose up onto his elbows. A heavy mass of dark hair, tangled from sex and rain splayed over the pristine white surface of the hotel sheets. She felt so tiny tucked into the curve of his body. Spock tenderly ran a fingertip along the shell of Nyota's ear, along her bruised shoulder and around her elbow; she hardly stirred in response.
His thoughts wandered to the Vulcan "favinit" he once found in the early morning on his home planet. A rare rain shower had fallen the previous night over the usually arid city of ShiKahr. Morning brought with it a temporary Paradise and Spock, a curious fifteen year old boy, had ventured out before his parents had emerged for the day. Growing from the protection of an upturned rock, the brilliant bloom stood in defiance of the harsh climate. Carefully Spock had caressed the elegant orchid-like flower, admiring the downy texture of the faintly striped petals. As the hot sun rose in the morning sky, it had become apparent to the young Vulcan the fragile gift would lose its life force quickly. Illogically he plucked it from its then exposed home. Secretly Spock had preserved it in his treasured copy of Walden, where the fragile, papery flower still remained tucked between the pages.
Sighing heavily Spock considered their situation as he settled back into the mattress. The bed was terribly rumpled, the sheet yanked from the all four corners. The small table by the door was teetering on two legs; and the ivory lampshade was crushed against the bottom supports. A waterlogged trail of clothing coursed a hectic path to the edge of the bed; a stray sock precariously perched on a discarded pillow. He could smell the moisture from the wetted carpet in front of the still open balcony doors. The heavy dampness clung to aftermath of the previous night.
Rain tumbled gently onto the smooth surface of the balcony, the concrete punctuated with deep puddles. Spock knew he'd eventually have to clean up the wreckage, but for the moment he was more interested in preserving the memory of this morning. It was impossible for Spock not to consider the words of another man blindly consumed by his love of a woman. The heavy words of Pablo Neruda played against the tempered dawn:
'...You are taken in the net of my music, my love, and my nets of music are wide as the sky. My soul is born on the shore of your eyes of mourning. In your eyes of mourning the land of dreams begins.'
Weight shifted next to him, and as his eyes glanced over he was greeted by a wide, sleepy smile. Nyota wiggled closer, seeking more warmth in the chilled morning. "Mmm, how long have you been awake?" she asked, her lips tickling his chest hair. Rolling over towards her, Spock wrapped his body around hers, providing her with as much heat as possible. "Only a few moments, ashayam," he responded without hesitation, pressing a firm kiss to the top of her head. She jerked her face upward, eyes demanding and moist. Spock knew he may have pushed too far, but given how many Regulations had been crushed under the previous night's lovemaking, he saw no further loss could be wrought.
Her mouth parted, but not a single syllable emerged. He brushed a thumb over her cheek and over her lower lip, kissing her brow. She shifted more tightly against his body, her face pressed into his chest. A hot spark, violet-blue burst into something tangible within his katra. He considered this is what Terrans meant by one being caught beneath another's skin. A tiny voice whispered just audible to his Vulcan ears, "Nash ashau-veh, k'hat'n'dlawa."
Spock released a breath he did not realize he had been holding. Her words were more than a simple declaration of love in his native language; she felt his presence in her soul and he felt her in his katra. It was then he knew his doubts were completely illogical. He gently tilted her chin so he could look at her, so she could see into him. She placed her fingers on his cheek, and he mirrored her actions. Spock felt their essences meld until there were no more boundaries, no more walls. He placed his free hand over the spot she had directed him to last night, her heart pounding steady against him. Nyota smiled, her fingers trailing over his heart as well. A moment passed, and soon they both understood: whatever would come after that day was irrelevant. Somehow, in spite of it all, two halves of a single heart had found each other.
