The fire had been lit as a last resort; an Atlantic thunderstorm had made its way up the east coast of the continent, showering the rooftops, streets, and lawns with much needed rain. Lightning illuminated the dark night sky, beckoning the thunder to show its might and, not to be outdone, the tumultuous thunder responded, bellowing out across the city. For some reason, whether it was by sheer luck or by the fates conspiring in her favor, the transformers that supplied Lisa's home with light had been struck by lightning, causing her home to become blanketed in darkness.

The yellow light from the candles and fire danced across Lisa's living room, causing shadows to grow and shrink, and the taps of heavy raindrops created a romantically soothing ambience; one of somberness. The deep crimson shade of the chilled wine glowed against the fire, the crackling and popping of the fire, all conspired to ease Remy's state of turmoil, but she remained untouched by the ambience.

Lisa sat on the couch, her knees tucked beneath her, with a steadying arm around Remy. The dancing flames of the fireplace had captured Remy's attention, and Lisa observed the yellow embers playing against Remy's titanium eyes. Remy remained silent and listless, sipping at the wine in her glass; her mind still racing from the events previous. Lisa merely sat next to her in supportive silence, every now and then stroking the back of Remy's neck to assure her that she was ready to listen. As if beckoned by some silent force, Remy set her wine glass down on the coffee table and reclined back on the couch, yet again. She mentally combed her vocabulary, trying to form the best combination of syllables in order to fully illustrate what was going on in her head. With no avail, she decided to break the silence,

"I used to hate thunderstorms."

Lisa sat upright, smiling slightly at the words that had just been uttered from Remy's mouth,

"You used to…hate thunderstorms?" she asked, trying to clarify what Remy had just said. Remy nodded slowly, and a small smirk played across her lips,

"When I was younger, I used to absolutely despise thunderstorms. When I heard that first clap of thunder, I ran to my room, slammed the door, and hid beneath my bed with all of my stuffed animals. I'd stick them in rows around me to guard me from the loud noises, the thunder, and whatnot. And I had this little tiger flashlight, so when the power went out, I still had that light in my fort."

Remy paused slightly and laughed,

"…I used to be so afraid of coming out of that little fort; I was too afraid of facing the wind, and the rain…then the Huntington's became prominent in my mom, and I hid again. I used to be so ashamed of myself when I found myself hiding under that bed; trying to build up a barrier between myself and the outside world. Here I am now, twenty-some years later, and I'm still hiding underneath the bed."

Lisa placed her wine glass beside Remy's on the coffee table and brushed a stray strand of hair from Remy's cheek,

"What makes you think that you're hiding beneath the bed?" Lisa asked.

The younger woman swallowed back the last of the wine that remained in her glass and stared at the empty flute,

"Rather than being up front with you about what I had done, I let you find out the worst way possible. Rather than telling Jetta off, I just tried to ignore her. Rather than going home and dealing with a loss like a big girl, and came to my ex-girlfriend's house acting like a blubbering mess."

Remy's eyes met Lisa's, and soon, the walls came down,

"Lis…I don't know why carried on the way I did. I had everything, a-and I just…let my old habits emerge…"

Remy took Lisa's hand,

"I was an idiot. I know what I did was wrong, but I-"

Lisa placed her hand over Remy's lips, who melted at the touch. She had missed that familiar touch, the scent of Lisa's skin, the feel.

"I know you're sorry. But I don't want to hear it. I just want to focus on tomorrow, not yesterday." Lisa stated wisely.

Remy brought a soft hand to Lisa's cheek, Lisa closed her eyes as she tried to suppress the tears beginning to appear,

"I had everything I could possibly ever want with you. I love you, and no one else."

Remy placed her arm around Lisa, who curled up into Remy's embrace. Lisa draped her arm across Remy's chest, drawing lazy circles on her shoulder. Remy dragged her fingers lightly back and forth on Lisa's arm, refusing to let exhausting take over her. The pair focused once again on the crackling fireplace. Remy exhaled deeply,

"I can't go to Lena's funeral." She stated blankly. Lisa rose from her position with a concerned expression cast across her features,

"Why?"

"I saw something in Lena that I have never seen in anyone before…"

Lisa's attention was immediately aroused,

"What?"

Remy's voice began to crack with unshed tears,

"…myself."

Lisa dragged her fingers lazily through Remy's hair.

"…she was the woman I was going to be years from now. The casual sex, the disappointment of loved ones, the careless attitude; I'm gonna be her. Dying alone."

The last words that escaped Remy's lips seemed to hang in the air for a few moments. The rain drops fell heavier and harder, the sound becoming the only barrier between the loss of Remy's composure. Lisa took Remy's soft face in her hands, guiding her attention towards her own green eyes,

"You have the opportunity now to repel that possibility of becoming who Lena was. And by the way,"

Lisa placed a chaste kiss upon Remy's lips,

"…you're not alone."

At that same moment, the room became illuminated once again as the electricity flowed through the house. Slightly disappointed, Remy exhaled,

"I guess I better head home…" she sighed. She began to rise off of the couch when a soft hand gripping her own prevented further movement. Remy held still as Lisa went around the living room, shutting off the lights once again, and reached for the stereo remote off of the coffee table. At the click of a button, the dark room, quiet room filled with the soft sounds of Ella Fitzgerald, singing the classic, "These Foolish Things." Lisa softly placed the remote back on the coffee table, and scooted towards the opposite wall, creating a mini dance floor in the middle of her living room. Remy grinned and once again took Lisa's hand,

"Would you like to dance?" she whispered inches away from Lisa's ear.

Without a word, Lisa and Remy connected on the hardwood floor, swaying quietly back and forth into the stormy night.

There is much more to come.....I apologize for the hiatus. High school....