For a young solder, Hal Mason distinctly had patience. So, when Lourdes had rejected his embrace and glanced at him through a creäture of perish eyes, he did not relent. He had persisted, choosing to visit her everyday despite her protests. When she eloquently articulated to him, her voice would be monotone and the twinkling light in her eyes unquestionably would die out. It had that magnanimous relentlessly worried so that he had paced throughout the night; it was only when Anne had comfortably sat him down and reported him on Lourdes' recovery, and he got peace. That is relatively speaking. Throughout the days of her recovery, Lourdes had been experiencing more nightmares. All were of the night she had failed to save Jamil despite Hal's intellectual battle that he was already desperately lost. Hal instinctually knew death when it was before him. It was no surprise however that Lourdes had taken a shattering reasonability for his eternal slumber; she had taken an oath to save lives. Yet, he had forced her to run away. He unquestionably would not have blamed her, had she quixotically decided to never look upon him again.
At the commencing, he had expected her to zealously be hostile, but soon cave into his warmth. No such occurred, her hostility had grown throughout the days; the deeply feeling of Lourdes in his arms was a distant dream within a dream. A dream he could not shake. He had become engrossed in the well-being of Lourdes, that he had begun to ignore his own. Maggie watched from afar as he went through training diabolically; missing the bull's-eye shot by inches, with his hands shaking. As well as an easy sweat breaking. It was very quiet indeed, as if it was not riddle to conclude what was troubling her best friend. She hated domestics, but this was endangering him. Sneaking behind him, so he unquestionably could not see her escape, she decided to pay a visit to the fractured doctor.
Her fist had lightly tapped on the door, but there was no loud answer. She pushed the door open hesitantly, to behold a tired Lourdes resting against the work table. Maggie smiled slightly at the sight of Lourdes' innocent facial expression, her hair was neatly pushed away from her canvas of endurance, and her arms were underneath her cheek to support her position. Maggie commenced to slowly edge out, except there was a shrill screaming from the room within. Whacking the door wide open, Maggie stormed in. She wrapped her arms around a shaking Lourdes, her voice booming as she shook Lourdes awake. Sweat had dripped down the ancillary area of her cheek as her eyes were alight with fever; she clasped her arms around Maggie as she attempted to get a grasp on reality. She could not imprudently forget the face; Jamil had visited her again in her slumber.
"What the hell, Lourdes?" Maggie examined the worry in Lourdes' eyes. "Have you been doing this lately?" Lourdes' resilience had pushed up a barrier around her, her eyes glazed over coldness as she lifted herself out of Maggie's arms. She began to busy herself around the room in order to avoid confrontation.
"It's nothing." She had tried to sound powerful, to give Maggie the essence that she had been coping with her bereavement. Except, her voice had sounded cracked and shallow. Her hands began to tremble as her lie soaked in. Jamil's eyes. All she could see was his eyes.
"You're lying." Maggie pulled Lourdes to a sitting position, never releasing her hands from hers. There was an almost sisterly affection in Maggie's eyes. She watched as Lourdes' lip quiver under the scrutinizing eyes of mysterious Maggie.
"Look, you can ignore this if you want; but I have to say something. I can't watch you wither away pining for someone who left a long time ago. Damn it, Lourdes. We can't afford to do that." She raised a hand to silence any of Lourdes' protestations.
"Don't tell me that I don't understand when I do. I'm one of the rare people here who understand. I'm not here to give you the cheesy bullshit; I'm here to get you to snap out of it."
"Don't say it like it's easy!" Lourdes had risen from her seat; she towered over Maggie with bright eyes ablaze with anger. Maggie's pride could have been bruised, but the sight of Lourdes' lively reaction urged her onwards. She too, stood. The two figures sized each other up in the centre of the room. The battlements around them had vanished as all they gazed at were their opponent's eyes.
"I'm not saying it's easy!" Maggie retorted with spit and fire. "But, I'm also not saying your world is ending. God, Lourdes." Maggie's shrill voice had cracked to a softer undertone. "You haven't left the media unit in days, you won't look at your boyfriend; you won't let the woman who is a mother to you hold you. You won't do anything. This roof could cave in on us any second and your last memory will have been an argument with me. Do you really want that?" Lourdes' eyes lowered as she watched the floor in great interest. Her voice was deadpan.
"How would you know what I want?" Maggie stepped forward, her hands rested on the sides of Lourdes' face, her lips transforming into a slight smile. It was the sign of Lourdes reaching out that had inspired her to persevere.
"Because I lost my best friend in a gang crime, the moment he died, I was gone. I gave up all my responsibilities and that caused the death of another one of my friends. I won't go into details, because they're not important. But, my last memory is of her dying. I caused that death; I don't want you to be burdened with that." Let not dim your horrors. She let go of Lourdes. The sensation of a shield causing a barrier between them surfaced. Maggie had no inclination of the effects of her words; she would only hope that Lourdes would live again. That she would not die with Jamil.
"What you're experiencing Lourdes is something, not "nothing". It'd be good to see you get past it." With sagged shoulder, Maggie left Lourdes to ponder.
The sound of his grunting impacted perfectly with his resounding punches. The airbag nimbly flew from its hinges, smacking against the dusty wall as his wrist voraciously came around in a full frontal blow. His father suspiciously watched from the door way, a sadness in the tips of his luminous eyes blended with exhaustion. He picked up the strewn airbag as well as passed it to his eldest son, Hal made no sound. He only commenced to batter his opponent once again. With every nightmare, every illness, every broken promise; his ardor spurred on, his movement zealously became sharper…and deadlier. Deeply feeling the strain in his muscle, Hal collapsed against the rimy ground and his father came to join him.
"I know why you're so good at this." His father started, Hal rolled his eyes in predictability and stood to begin his regime once more. His father continued without a second pause. "She hasn't looked at you since she fainted. She's drawing herself in more and more, treating you like a dirt rat. You're telling yourself that she only needs to think, but you know in your heart…that time isn't the problem. It's her." Hal's movements became fiercer.
"Except, it's not just her. It's you. You're being a coward, instead of racing into her room…shouting at the top of your voice why you love her and she shouldn't put a barrier between you two. I'm sure you have speech ready in your head, yet here you are withering away in this broken down gym…with your mad mind to listen to. How many demons are you listening to, Hal? Don't you think it's time to fight for her-"Tom Mason did not have the opportunity to finish his breath, Hal swiveled in his position? He was screeching like an animal, his fist raised and his hand clutched around his father' collar. He towered over him like a predator, screeching.
"Shut up! SHUT UP!" It was only when his father's non responsive eyes stared back at him, did he as a swaggering scoundrel, relent. He stepped back; his breath was shallow with his crazed eyes staring into the distance. As though, he had killed a wretched soul. If he continued in this manner, perhaps on one diurnal course…he unquestionably would.
"Hal." His father's voice was soft, his eyes gentle. "She's alone, Hal. She lost her best friend. Remember when you lost yours? You didn't speak to anyone for days, your mom was the only who could get you out of your room." Hal did not speak; his eyes began to well with tears. His best friend had died peacefully, but with little breath. He had not even heard Hal say goodbye. "I never kissed your mom goodbye, Hal. I left in a hurry, thinking I would find her again. I found her dead body instead." Tom Mason clutched his son in an embrace, his voice threatening to crack into sobs. "Do you know how easily this roof could cave in? Skitters could burst through that door, and the last thought you would have is; I should have kissed her goodbye. Don't make my mistake."
A second behind the fleeting breath, he let his son go, watching him carefully. Hal nodded.
"No, I won't."
There was passion racing through Hal's veins as he stormed through the corridors in pursuit. Lourdes' body had felt more alive than ever, it was as though those days spent in a stupefied state were no more. The world was a blur as they collided into one another. Hal held his arms to steady the female in front of him; Lourdes wrapped her arms around him to quickly cease from slipping. Apologies were on the tips of their tongues, but as their eyes focused on the blazing light twinkling in the other's eyes, their voices became hushes. Lourdes had missed the brown haze of his eyes, for Hal it was the slight green glow. There was no awkward silence as they stepped an inch away from each other, arms locked in embrace.
"I was just look-"
"I was coming to fi-"
"I didn't mean to hu-"
"Sorry, I wasn't look-"
They paused, and then both broke into giggles at their ridicule. It had been so long. In his pursuit to find Lourdes, he had formulated a speech in his forgetful muse. Except, seeing her there; there was only one thing he wished to do. He stepped closer and intertwined his fingers with hers, gazing passionately at her.
"I'm sorry. For being a coward, for not being there when you needed me. I wasn't a very good boyfriend." He whispered, only wanting it to be them in the world. Lourdes, for ever being honourable and noble, could not watch him crash the blame upon his shoulders.
"It wasn't all you, I shouldn't have pushed you away-"
"No, Lourdes. Don't do that. You were mourning, you deserved to punch me, and I shouldn't have given up so easily." He gripped her hand tighter and pressed a kiss to her pallid brow. It relieved him to hear that content sigh escape from her lips. "So…can I kiss you now?" He cheerily winked as she scoffed in amusement at him.
"Such a gentleman," she is a thing of light, of airiness and joy; she exclaimed. Brushing her lips against his in a tease, she touched her forehead against his. "Yes, you can." So, he did. He held her in a precious clasp.
He loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.
You all probably absolutely despise me for taking so long, but I did do it so it was perfect for Christmas! I think this chapter fits well with Christmas, being forgiving and enjoying it with your loved ones. Have a fantastic Christmas, and happy new year!
ps. i am doing a "twelve days of hades" on tumblr!
