Carol woke to the familiar rugged face and sky blue eyes of her best friend. It was the same heartwarming sight that greeted her every morning. He always woke before her, never rousing her, just watching her sleep peacefully until the sunlight filtered through the blinds and brought her into consciousness. The house was still silent, save for his delicious voice whispering in her ear and the sound of his lips kissing her cheek and forehead. She lived for these quiet moments, where everything was as simple as could be; where only love existed, drowning her fears for humanity and the distant cries in the past. It's then that she knows nothing could ever truly take this away from her, because it's not hers to lose. It's not even theirs. It's greater than them both. It has chosen to bestow its light on them, and as long as there is light, there will be love, and even in the darkest night, a candle glimmers somewhere in the world.
Then two pairs of thundering footsteps race down the stairs much to quickly for their own good, but too full of youthful energy to be contained. Ben rises then, grabbing their robes and starting the water before coming to retrieve her. She always pretends she's too tired to get up on her own, insisting that he carry her, which he never refuses to do. Temptation always calls, but is usually postponed until the scheduled day is complete… though sometimes it is simply too alluring to resist. Being an unusually quiet work day for them both, they can afford to linger under the warm water, kissing and caressing passionately, their cries undetectable beneath the roar of the shower.
Two empty cereal bowls are already in the sink when they descend the stairs, the beeping sound of videogames emanating from the living room. Ben sinks into his favourite chair, picking up the morning paper. He long abandoned his failed attempts at preparing breakfast. Carol flicked the switch for the coffee maker along with the button for the stove, placing two frying pans on its surface. She cracked eggs onto the one searing surface and lay bacon on the other, poking both aimlessly with a spatula while her mind began to drift. Today it had been a year: exactly one year from the most frightening night of her life. How so much could change in only a year. She had gone from nearly losing it all, to being a family of four… maybe five, it was too soon to tell. The conflicting anniversary had plagued her for weeks yet she still had no idea what to make of it. Ben had offered to take her out, get her mind off of it, offered to take the day off to be with her, but she had refused. She desperately wanted to pretend that today was a day like any other. But words from the newscasts, from Yorish, from Steven, from Ben, all kept swirling in her mind.
She placed a stark white plate of food before Ben, taking a second to the chair across from him. Sitting down and beginning to eat, she wondered if she would ever truly be free from this nightmare, or if she would be forever scarred by the atrocities of that time. Perhaps such liberty was impossible. Perhaps it was even undesirable; erasing newfound appreciation for the people in her life and the unforgettable heartbreak of looking into sky blue emotionless eyes. But maybe, just maybe, that blemish could bring her comfort. She may never fully recover, and hers may not be tangible like Ben's, but hers held reassurance that no other could: as long as she felt it, she knew she was human.
-FIN-