Renee could not quite recall how she'd died, only that she had passed on. Her body was perfect, younger, healthy. The last thing she remembered before a blinding white light and an incredible heat engulfed her vision was feeling his lips in a kiss.
She had traced his lip lightly with the tip of her finger. It pouted slightly, and she such an urge to bite it, to kiss it, to wrap the pair of them up in a quilt and listen to their gentle breathing, watching the cotton ripple like skipping stones and sharing crooked smiles. His lip felt slightly chapped under Renee's feather light touches, but she simply could bring herself to give a damn. The young woman gazed so intently at each divot of that lip, as if it could map out ancient seas and plans and tell her everything, she didn't know. And Renee didn't want to look up. Because if she looked up, Renee may find herself at the mercy of questioning eyes, pleading, begging to know what she was doing, and she was not at liberty to say because she simply could not find the words, her husband had, even after all this time in Heaven, had bewitched her. "Do I love you?" To that, Renee could not form an answer with her lips because she was so focused on his. Before she could answer, "Yes," without fail, an explosion of light filled their little house in their eternal piece of Heaven. She could hear Quasi screaming something to her, but what that was, she did not know.
Renee knew she would faint when her stomach gave out. It felt like her innards were being replaced by a black hole. Then nausea crept from her abdomen to her head and the world went black. The young woman woke as if it's an emergency, as if sleeping had become a dangerous thing. Her heart beat fast and there was a buzzing in her brain and together they were as panic with jump-leads. Only now her brain was as a flat battery, the exertions of the night being a marathon of erratic problem-solving. Groggily, she sat up, a hand on her forehead. It felt hot, slightly feverish. Renee's head had become foggy, like that time when alcohol takes her into oblivion, but she had not drunk a drop. It's as if every eyelash weighed more than it should, and gravity has been turned up tenfold. Glancing wildly around, she froze.
"No…" she whispered, immediately feeling tears well in her eyes.
She was back in her apartment. The little paperback copy of Into the Sunlight lay closed, neatly placed on her coffee table. Glancing down at her attire, she flinched.
Renee was back in her pink maxi dress. And Quasi… Lifting her left hand, which was now trembling badly, she bit her bottom lip and blinked back briny tears. Her simple gold wedding band was gone, vanished. As if it had never been there. She was back in her apartment and judging by a quick glance up at the clock that hung above her fireplace's mantle, only fifteen minutes had passed. Renee glanced wildly to her reflection in the mirror. No longer aged and wizened was she, but she had been reverted back to her age of twenty-three, same as she had been when she started reading.
The thoughts are accelerating inside Renee's head. The young woman wanted them to slow so she could breathe but they won't. Her breaths came in gasps and she felt like she was going black out. The room spins and she collapsed on the floor, trying to make everything slow to something her brain and body can cope with.
She felt so sick. Swallowing back the bile creeping up into her throat, she met her cat's eyes. Binx was lazily regarding his master from his perch on top of her sofa.
"Wha…? Was that all just…a dream? Th—there's no way!"
Renee wanted to call an ambulance, but her cell phone was too far away, it's too far away, it's too far away. She didn't know who to call, what's their number, who too call, too far away, Quasi was gone, she left and he was alone without her, breathe, gone, what number, too far away... blackness... creeping blackness...
She huddled against her sofa, pulling her knees up close to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Where is he, what's my name, who to call, what's the number, the stairs are too steep, the room is spinning...blackness...he's gone...
In a wild fit of inspiration, she seized the book and flipped it open to a random page. "Take me back…" she pleaded, tears streaming in a constant flow down her face. "Please. Take me back there! I—I want to go back!" she sobbed, screaming it.
The book did nothing. Renee bit her tongue, trying to hold the tears that threatened to leave her eyes. And that's when she could not hold them back.
First, one small crystal bead escaped from her right eye. She could feel the warmth, sliding down her cheek, and rolling off her chin. Then another. And another. Until her eyes flooded with them, coming like a rainfall. Sniffing every ten seconds, they fall, and fall, and Renee let them. Visions of him danced in her mind.
She focused on Quasi's face again, his lips, how they moved in a kiss.
Then the memory passes, her blue eyes seeing once more, Renee's ears hearing the here and now. She wished she had known just how painful her fixation on his lip would be, because loving the rest of him was torture, especially if she could not be with him, and sometimes Renee looked back and wondered if she could have even stopped herself, warned herself away from such elegant heartbreak.
Would I have even listened? "We…we had a good life, you and me," she whispered hoarsely, blinking back the last of her tears with a flick of her finger, as she gingerly reached for the book, clutching it close to her heart. "I…love you."
Before she could even fathom what she was doing, she pressed her lips to the books' cover for a lingering, gentle kiss. She focused on his lip yet again, and wished she could touch it one more time, to run her fingers through his red hair. Or would the slight tickle of his breath expelling from that goddamn lip cause her words to stick to her throat, plastering themselves to her trachea and refusing to dispel into the palpable air. And the silence would have carried on forever and ever, until the two of them dispersed into dust and scattered themselves between remains of atoms of an age long gone - until a time Renee might hear her voice echo through the nothing.
They say the pain dulls with time, and that things will get better. If getting past the pain meant forgetting him, then Renee would choose to suffer all her life. Sniffing, she glanced at the clock. Eight a.m. She had eight hours to finish her writing assignment for her professor. Renee, searching for her inner resolve, gingerly slipped the copy of the book into her pink Angelkiss purse, and headed for her bedroom to change her clothes. Furrowing her brows into a frown, she heaved a heavy little sigh.
She opted for comfort today, choosing a jade green maxi wrap dress with flouncy short sleeves, floral embroidery detailing on the bodice, with a tie at the waistline and a femme flowy high-low bottom hem, the epitome of femininity. On her feet, she wore brown open-toed sandals that revealed her love for pink toenail polish.
Renee gave herself a quick once-over once her makeup was applied, hiding any of the tear tracts that still left markings on her face, hoping a little mascara would draw any attention away from her red-rimmed eyes. Taking a deep breath to steel her nerves, she slung her purse over her shoulder and stepped out of her apartment.
She was a girl on walk, starting to get a feel for who she really was at her core. These days of more calmness, now that she had mastered the art of having a clear brain, the serenity of feeling her own intelligence rather than tiring herself with unresolved thoughts, she could see far more clearly, yet rather through her senses than her eyes, a sort of thinking without words. And what came to her were new thoughts, a sort of poetry she never realized she was capable of.
The avenue was breathing, living, through the trees and the people, as if they were in a strange conversation of sorts, one of the emotions. It was as if the colors and the sounds, the bustle and the quiet space, were a million weaved moments both transient and real. Her professor's words reached her eardrums, filling her mind.
When you are writing a book, it's just not writing your thoughts. It's creating people. It's creating an alternate universe to ours. You have the power to destroy a life, but to also make a new one. You have the power to see the destination, while your people are left wondering if their creator will allow them to see that accomplishment. You are their God, their Creator. You could make anything happen. Life, Death. Sickness, Health. Rich, Poor. Compassionate, Cold. Sane, Insane. Happiness, Sadness. You can control all this as the words are carved by your hands. You have a universe in your hands - Yours, and only yours. And one day, you will share that universe to others, and give them a chance to see yet another story of another person. You are your own God. Writers, Artists, Directors - They create another alternate universe, and they are Gods and Goddesses too. They are, in a sense, your brothers-and-sisters-in-arms. It's breathtaking, when you realize just how much power you have. And what will you do with this power, knowing you have so much? What will you write, Renee Elizabeth Barreau? What will you do?
Renee gritted her teeth and locked her jaw. She knew what she wanted to write.
She opened the door to her campus's library and breathed in the scent of the books before her. She'd been hoping to see Old Man Victor, but his desk was unoccupied. She furrowed her brow into a frown. She'd come back for him later.
Row after row of neatly lined up books with their spines facing outward, color coded with dots, fiction section arranged in alphabetical order, young adults section, children's section with low shelves and floor cushions, comfortable leather arm chairs, tables for quiet study, muffled stillness. Then, she spotted him returning.
"Vic!" she called out harshly, clutching the book still tight to her chest. The old librarian looked up, and, upon seeing who it was, broke into a kind, wide smile.
"Miss Barreau," he said courteously. "What can I do for you, dearie?" he asked.
There was a scream from deep within that forced its way from her mouth, it is as if Renee's terrified soul had unleashed a demon. Even the other library patrons turned their heads in her general direction to look. All she felt was anger, all Renee felt was that she did not want to be friends with anyone at all because then she knew she would not have to get close to anyone or have to trust anyone, it'll be safer, easier to choose not to stay. And Renee knew she was hiding a truth from herself, of how much this is really to do with sadness and the scars that just won't heal. Yet her fists clenched, and her teeth locked up once the sound is out.
"You enjoyed the book, then, did you?" he asked, unfazed by her outburst.
"Why?" she asked, hating the warbling little crack in her voice. In a fit of anger, she slammed down the copy of Into the Sunlight onto his desk. "Why me, Vic?"
He looked surprised at her question. "Because…I knew you could handle it."
"Tell it to take me back!" she demanded hotly, her hands on her hips as she reached up a hand to tuck a stray wisp of blonde hair behind her ear. "Right now!"
Vic furrowed his thick white brows into a frown. "It cannot do that, my dear. This is…a very special book," he added, his ancient hand running tenderly over the book's leather cover. "Once you have lived the story, your time there is over, dear."
"B—but Vic, this isn't fair! I had a life there, a husband, children, even! The story spat me back out, l—like I was nothing! Why? I can't stop thinking about him. I don't know how he has gotten into my head. And I hate the fact that he can mess up with my mind just so easily. To be honest, I'm afraid of love. I'm afraid of the feeling that someone keeps breaking my heart. You know that kind of pain. Pains are caused by being rejected when you decide to give all your heart to someone doesn't need it. Pains are caused by opening your heart so easily and casually. I did, and look what your book did to me! And now I'm alone, with nothing but my memories of him. And it hurts!" Renee sobbed.
Vic remained silent, eyeing her with a pained look.
"How not to remember his smile. Then the memories with his presence spills out of my mind again. I even daydream about him, about something called 'our beautiful love'. And I don't want this kind of love if I cannot have it. I don't even need this kind of love. The one can make me destroy myself unconsciously. So, I tell myself that he isn't the right one. But maybe he is, and if he is, I have no way to see him ever again, no way to get back to Quasi! People told me that love can heal a person. But no one told that love can destroy a person, too." Her monologue and heartbreak seemed to pour out of her soul that moment, and she didn't care.
Vic opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. Finally, he relented. "The book, dear, is meant to speak to you. To tell you that...well...life is not a spectator sport. If you don't stop and look around once in awhile, you'll miss things."
Renee frowned, and snatched the book back from him rather violently before he could make a move to put it away. Intuition... the act of reading another person "like a book," although you would never think it be that simple. People make it sound like you can just look at someone and know exactly what they are always thinking but that can't be the case, can it? Renee had heard that the eyes are a window to the soul, but they aren't just a hole in a wall.
The young woman supposed nobody can really know, maybe that was a good thing or maybe it's a curse. One thing is for sure - humans are complicated and amazing creatures, so don't even try to look through the window until you can walk through the door.
"Victor?" Renee asked breathily, her voice low. "Was all of that real, or was it just happening inside my head?" Renee whispered.
He chuckled. "Of course it happened inside your head, child. But why should that mean that it was not real?"
Renee huffed in frustration. She could not accept his words as truth, One look at Victor was more than enough for Renee. He was telling the truth. "I'll put it back, Vic," she sighed, defeated, feeling her shoulders slump dejectedly. This heartbreak she felt, felt cold. It felt like concrete drying in her chest. This heartbreak was unexpected, as they always are - top of the world one minute and cut down the next. Why was that? She slammed her copy of the book down at her usual writing station and clicked through the files until she pulled up a blank Microsoft Word document, but this time it was different.
This time…
She knew what she wanted to write...
Renee hazily rubbed the remainders of sleep from her eyes and peeked out the window; its vivid light extended across a rosy sky. She supposed this was something the majority would consider beautiful, but Renee found it strange, hard even, to find something so meaningful in something so…
Every day, her brain finished that thought for her. A cynical thought.
It wasn't like the sun wouldn't rise. It had, after all, been reliably happening since the beginning of time. So, what was so special about it?
She could never feel the joy from it the others did, the magic that drew so many artists and photographers in, as if they had a lens or filter, she'd missed out on. Again, with the bad thoughts! Her mind scolded her. It was that day of drowning, here again, the cold wash that only Renee could feel ever since the book had thrust her back into reality, and for the first time in her life, she wasn't sure if she would be able to solve this one. And that sucked.
She didn't want to get up, and in her mind, she was running through the list of tasks she had to get done today. First things first, she had agreed to meet Victor for coffee at the shop near the library to pick his brain to see what else the ancient old librarian could tell her about that book, if it had all been a dream, and then following that, she was going to come back home and drown her sorrows.
Renee didn't want to move at all, so she did the only thing she could. She buried herself in the comforter, enveloping herself. Renee was standing on the brink of something she couldn't quite describe to herself. The weight of everything seemed to press down on her shoulders, and she struggled to even take a single step forward.
It hurt even just to move as she lay curled up in a fetal position under the safety of the comforter. It was too much. All of it. And somehow, Renee had, with the demanding of her friends and her mother, had continued to keep on going.
But every step cost her. The darkness grew darker; the pain sharper; all of it seemed to only grow in strength and she began to wonder if things could ever get better. But Renee never said a word, never complained. Sometimes she wondered if that smile—her horribly fake smile—was ever seen through. If someone ever noticed that sad, broken look in her eyes that she saw whenever she looked in a mirror these days lately. If they saw beauty where all she saw was ugliness. And then she let out a little laugh, a bitter, sarcastic laugh at herself. Nobody cared. No one noticed. They never seem to, do they? The voice in her head taunted.
Renee thought if there was one thing she could agree with the old man from the other night when she'd brought the back to the library, was that society was one of the worst things about humanity. Renee thought it was funny that society touted on about acceptance, and about possessions not meaning anything, say that it doesn't count towards being happy. It ridicules people who are different, people who say they don't need money to be happy, tells them they don't need stuff like that to live. Then they turn around and have a go at people like her mother and, to a lesser extent, Renee herself, people who had everything but weren't happy, and they ridiculed people like them because of it. They never realized the truth of what they said before.
Being accepted because you were popular, or for your possessions would never make people happy. People made people happy, family, friends, and…partners. At the thought of spouses, boyfriends, girlfriends, Renee let out another bitter laugh and didn't bother to stop her tears. When the tears weren't even halfway done, Renee was empty. She couldn't have cried even if she wanted to. She hadn't experienced this feeling before. The sadness was still there, but not raw anymore—now it was a strange empty void—the kind she didn't think would easily lift. Renee felt like her mother could walk through the door right now could surprise her with the cutest puppy on earth and she wouldn't feel a thing. She peeked over the covers, just for a second. She stared around her as if she were in a pit at the bottom of a volcano. Her surroundings were the same, but they gave her no emotion. How could that be? She needed emotion to feel alive, to love…
Heaving a heavy sigh, she forced herself out of bed, dressed herself in her a bright blue sundress and carefully slipped into her brown summer sandals quickly. She was, after all, a woman who kept her promises, depression or not.
And she was not about to let Victor down.
Renee hazily rubbed the remainders of sleep from her eyes and peeked out the window; its vivid light extended across a rosy sky. She supposed this was something the majority would consider beautiful, but Renee found it strange, hard even, to find something so meaningful in something so…
Every day, her brain finished that thought for her. A cynical thought.
It wasn't like the sun wouldn't rise. It had, after all, been reliably happening since the beginning of time. So, what was so special about it?
She could never feel the joy from it the others did, the magic that drew so many artists and photographers in, as if they had a lens or filter, she'd missed out on. Again, with the bad thoughts! Her mind scolded her. It was that day of drowning, here again, the cold wash that only Renee could feel ever since John broke up with her, and then Into the Sunlight had, rather unceremoniously, cast her aside from the story, though deep down in the buried recesses of her heart, Renee knew that she and Quasi had lived a long fulfilling life together, and for the first time in her life, she wasn't sure if she would be able to solve this funk of depression. Nothing helped. And that sucked. She didn't want to get up, and in her mind, she was running through the list of tasks she had to get done today. First things first, she had agreed to meet Victor for coffee at the shop near the library to pick his brain to see what else the ancient old librarian could tell her about that book, if it had all been a dream, and then following that, she was going to come back home and drown her sorrows.
Renee didn't want to move at all, so she did the only thing she could. She buried herself in the comforter, enveloping herself. Renee was standing on the brink of something she couldn't quite describe to herself. The weight of everything seemed to press down on her shoulders, and she struggled to even take a single step forward. It hurt even just to move as she lay curled up in a fetal position under the safety of the comforter. It was too much. All of it. And somehow, Renee had, with the demanding of her friends and her mother, had continued to keep on going.
But every step cost her. The darkness grew darker; the pain sharper; all of it seemed to only grow in strength and she began to wonder if things could ever get better. But Renee never said a word, never complained. Sometimes she wondered if that smile—her horribly fake smile—was ever seen through. If someone ever noticed that sad, broken look in her eyes that she saw whenever she looked in a mirror these days lately. If they saw beauty where all she saw was ugliness. And then she let out a little laugh, a bitter, sarcastic laugh at herself. Nobody cared. No one noticed.
They never seem to, do they? The voice in her head taunted.
Renee thought if there was one thing she could agree with the old man from the other night when she'd brought the back to the library, was that society was one of the worst things about humanity. Renee thought it was funny that society touted on about acceptance, and about possessions not meaning anything, say that it doesn't count towards being happy. It ridicules people who are different, people who say they don't need money to be happy, tells them they don't need stuff like that to live. Then they turn around and have a go at people like her mother and, to a lesser extent, Renee herself, people who had everything but weren't happy, and they ridiculed people like them because of it. They never realized the truth of what they said before. Being accepted because you were popular, or for your possessions would never make people happy. People made people happy, family, friends, and…partners.
At the thought of spouses, boyfriends, girlfriends, Renee let out another bitter laugh and didn't bother to stop her tears. When the tears weren't even halfway done, Renee was empty. She couldn't have cried even if she wanted to. She hadn't experienced this feeling before. The sadness was still there, but not raw anymore—now it was a strange empty void—the kind she didn't think would easily lift. Renee felt like her mother could walk through the door right now could surprise her with the cutest puppy on earth and she wouldn't feel a thing. She peeked over the covers, just for a second. She stared around her as if she were in a pit at the bottom of a volcano. Her surroundings were the same, but they gave her no emotion. How could that be? She needed emotion to feel alive, to love…
Heaving a heavy sigh, she forced herself out of bed, dressed herself in her favorite jade green maxi wrap dress with flouncy short sleeves, floral embroidery detailing on the bodice, with a tie at the waistline and a femme flowy high-low bottom hem, the epitome of femininity, and carefully slipped into her brown summer sandals quickly.
She was, after all, a woman who kept her promises, depression or not.
And she was not about to let Victor down.
A week had passed since the young Barreau girl had come storming into his library. She looked at Victor like the fire in her eyes had been dowsed with ice water, if anything it makes the blue paler. The old man was not used to it, it unnerved him greatly. He wanted her to give freely like she always does but she won't. It's like she just crawled right back inside some invisible shell and no matter how hard the head librarian tried, she's unreachable. She moved her eyes more slowly, like they're heavy, an effort to move. Victor wanted to crack his usual jokes, but he knew she won't laugh. He was standing right next to her as they waited in line at the little café just next to the library, but she might as well be on the moon.
"Glad to hear you got an A on your assignment," he offered jovially, in the hopes he might be able to cheer her up, just to see Renee Barreau smile again.
She said nothing, didn't even look at him. Vic noticed with some small measure of what could only be described as akin to fatherly pride, she'd not relinquished control over the book once since returning. He'd offered to let her keep it, but she refused. Crying had always been a healthy release, but for Renee, it was a habit now.
The blue feeling washed in like an unwanted wave, knocking all positive thoughts aside. She turned away from Vic to give her order. It was early and the machines are yet to warm, so she pondered this chance to rest a moment longer, to drink in the aroma of this place. The barista in front of her had tired eyes, yet there is that glimmer, a giveaway of her good heart. She's one of those surviving sparks, one of the ones who held on to who they really are.
Renee asked for her Danish to be warmed, apologizing amid her own tired smile, "Sorry, I'm just feeling like being a bit of a fuss pot today." Renee saw her spark glow a little brighter, her face more relaxed, a smidge more joy in her eyes,
"That's alright, dear, you be a fuss pot."
The young woman laughed unexpectedly, and she knew that she was feeling that tiny bit better too, "Thanks for indulging my fuss-pot-ism. I needed that."
The tiny café huddled despondent among the huge city buildings. Washed out under the overcast sky, it hunched, fighting against the drizzle. Hundreds of people rushed by it, outside on the crowded street. The half a dozen customers glanced up as the door swung open, heralded by a blast of cold wind. Unlike the outside, the interior of the café was warm and cheery, with bright lights and colorful walls. The customers returned to their conversations as the door swung closed behind the new entrant and the cold breeze was forgotten. She let out a sigh, turning away, slinging her purse onto her other shoulder, and was prepared to head back to her apartment when a light tap on her shoulder broke her out of her reverie. "Huh?" she asked.
"I think someone's watching you," Victor piped up, his warbling voice carrying.
Renee turned around, half expecting it to be Victor with some half-assed remark that was meant to cheer her up, and she felt her mouth almost drop open in shock.
For a moment, just the briefest of moments, she thought she was looking at him.
"Hey, Vic," she whispered, leaning over into the old man's ear. He merely grunted in response. "D—do you think that…do you believe everything happens for a reason?" she whispered hoarsely, hardly daring to believe her eyes. "Vic?" she said.
But the old man grinned and with a slight jerk of his head, motioned for her to go and say hello, and with a firm but gentle push, nudged her forward.
Renee swallowed back the lump forming in her throat as she felt her feet take one step forward, then another. Until she was standing in front of the young man who had tapped her on the shoulder. "You," she whispered, hardly daring to believe it, feeling her feet move of her own accord, away from Victor.
But he was different. If it really was him, he had no more deformities. He was a normal young man. His red wavy hair that was cropped short tousled slightly in the light autumnal breeze. which was thick and lustrous. His eyes were a mesmerizing deep blue, his eyes were the ocean, so full of life yet so uncertain. The blue-green hue carried his emotional currents, and before Renee could breathe, she was drowning. The stranger's face was strong and defined, his features molded from granite. He had dark eyebrows, which sloped downwards in a slightly serious expression. His usually playful smile had drawn into a hard line across his face. His perfect lips ripe for kissing, which Renee happily found herself daydreaming about. She wanted to feel how they moved in a kiss, if it was like...kissing him. His strong hands, slightly rough from working, held onto something as he stared deep into Renee's eyes. She couldn't help but blush under the scrutiny of his gaze. His smile etched its way back onto his face. His body was warm and toned, Renee could tell beneath his dark forest green collared shirt and crisp black business pants. His voice was deep, with a serious tone, smooth, rich and melodious, the kind of voice a man ought to have, and for a moment, she thought it was really him speaking to her, somehow.
They sounded so alike.
"Excuse me, ma'am, but I think you dropped this?" When he spoke, Renee was momentarily taken aback. He sounded exactly like Quasi, just like Tom Hulce's, though with a quieter, softer inflection, and he was young, seeming to be around twenty-five or six, older than her by a year or two.
In his hand, he held her small black bi-fold wallet, also a gift from her mother depicting a bunch of little sloths on it. The young man a few years older than her was standing in front of her, a sheepish, shy smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. Renee stared. She took a hesitant step forward, her arm outstretched, before her smile faltered. Realizing that, to this man, she was probably coming across as quite odd, she lowered her arm, where it fell limply at her side.
When she spoke, her voice was hoarse, and barely above a whisper. "I—is it you?" she whispered. "Tell me…" The young man frowned, but his smile quickly returned as she gratefully accepted the wallet from him. She drew in a sharp intake of breath that came out as a hiss as their fingers briefly touched at the exchange, and she felt that familiar tingle, that electrifying spark, the same as she had felt all those years ago that first moment she'd spent in Quasi's bell tower, and their hands had touched.
The handsome redhead reached up a hand to scratch at an itch behind his ear.
"We're i—in the same class. Creative Writing. I'm fairly new here to Chicago, I just moved here with my uncle," he offered warmly, offering her his hand for her to shake. "You're the only student in Professor Graham's class that got an A. I understand she's helping you get your manuscript to the right publishers. I'll be sure to buy a copy of the book when it comes out." His tone sounded highly impressed, and his blue eyes lit as she took his hand.
"You're good too," she offered. Now that she thought of it, she could recall the young man sitting in the corner the other day, and he'd been seemingly watching her out of the corner of her eye, interested, but by the time she'd thought to go and say hello by the time the period had ended, the man was gone. Vanished.
Like magic.
"You're better," he answered simply. "Quinn Benson," he offered by way of introduction, his voice kind and somewhat timid, though it seemed to evaporate quickly the more time he spent in Renee's presence.
"Renee. Renee Barreau. Thanks for returning my wallet," she managed to gasp out. "My mom is always saying I'd forget my own head if it weren't attached to my neck," she joked, which earned a light laugh from Quinn.
"Renee…" Renee liked how the sound of her name just rolled off his tongue, effortlessly, and she glanced down to notice her new acquaintance did not let go of her hand. "Um, I know this might be forward, since we just basically met for the first time and everything, but I was wondering if you…if you'd like to…go on a date with me sometime. Maybe dinner? I know a great Tex Mex place nearby, their food is pretty great. B—but only i—if you want to, that is," he managed to gasp out nervously, running his hands through his tuft of red hair in a similar fashion as Quasi used to, Renee noticed affectionately. Even his mannerism of running his fingers in between his knuckles was just like Quasi's, she thought wildly.
"I'd really like that," she whispered shyly. Before she could stop herself, she heard herself add, "Why wait? Are you hungry now? D—do you want to go?"
Quinn Benson looked momentarily surprised, but he quickly recovered.
"Yeah. I'm good to go if you are!" he said, a note of excitement seeping into his voice. "Are you ready now?" He froze, not having anticipated her answer. Then in that instant he turned and caught her eye; before she could turn away with shyness a genuine grin spread across his face, turning it from handsome into divine. In that moment, Renee Barreau felt her body flush warm. This was a person she wanted to know more than she'd ever felt before. This was a guy she could love forever
Quinn drew in a breath and held it, fully preparing himself for her to say no, that she'd changed her mind since he ran into her at the café this morning, but to his pleasant surprise, she threw him one of those charming little smiles he so desperately wished he could see more of and nodded shyly, slinging her purse over her shoulder.
"Oh, and before you get any bright ideas, I'm buying," he called out, leading the way as he led her down the spiral staircase. He saw her open her mouth to protest and shook his head. "No way. I'm not letting you pay your own way on a first date, Renee. I asked you to lunch, not the other way around. Didn't your parents ever teach you not to be so stubborn? He jokingly asked, and immediately kicking himself as he watched the light in her brilliant blue eyes dim a little.
"They—they did," she panted, "B—but…my parents and I don't get along."
"I'm sorry," he said immediately, cursing himself for his foolishness.
"I—it's fine," she said. "You couldn't have known. No harm done!"
Renee found herself struggling to keep up. Quinn Benson had a way of walking that made him seem perpetually in a hurry. His steps were not long, but they were rapid. Like a speed-walker without that odd twisting motion, they make with their upper bodies. In a hurry. Then again, so was the rest of the lunch crowd, she thought as she glanced around at their surroundings. People walked in this city like the way gas filled a jar; no matter how few of them there were—all the space will be taken. It was as if they were programmed to get as far from one another as possible, make no eye contact and move fast. Chicago was so much safer than her old hometown in Maine, at least according to the statistics, yet they behaved as if everyone they met was a potential danger, a threat to their very livelihoods. Insane. She loved crowds. She loved the way people walked, roughly in one direction, weaving a little bit, chatting as they go. She watched them; some had their heads down and were lost in thought. She wondered what their private worlds were like—each of them viewing this same place, this same day, from a unique perspective. Some of them took the time to notice the sun, currently hidden behind the clouds, the others the cloudy remains of yesterday's storm, or even the one from this morning. Either way, their footfalls soothed her better than a flowing river. She was a city girl and always would be. Renee loved it in Chicago.
"I think I found Chicago's new favorite Tex Mex joint!" Quinn called out playfully when at last he had led them to their destination, a quaint little Mexican restaurant called Taco Loco, one of the Windy City's supposed best hot spots in the entire city for Mexican food, especially their burritos and chips and salsa.
"It's good! I came here last week for a meeting for my internship over at Orbitfish during lunch. Have you had a chance to eat here yet?"
"I haven't," she managed to gasp out, having had to jog behind Quinn most of the way in order to keep up. "I've always wanted to, though, I've heard it's good!" she squeaked, reaching up a hand and brushing her bangs out of her eyes, trailing close behind Quinn as he completely ignored the sign reading Please Seat Yourself, barreling past the hostess and towards a corner booth, away from the noise and chaos of the lunch crowd. "Hey, what are you doing? We can't just—waltz in past the servers! It's their job! Clearly, you come here often, judging by the way you just marched on in." Her tone was light, teasing him.
"Helps to know the manager here," he retorted, flashing her a brilliant white smile that caused her heart to go into irregular palpitations. It was not like her to develop a crush on a person this fast, so it was foreign to her. Especially not after the nightmare John put her through. But here she was, fascinated with this guy.
"Guess it does," she said shyly, opening her mouth to speak again, but found herself getting lost in his eyes. Those blue eyes of Quinn's were a million hues, so she wondered what the word "blue" even meant. How could she ever reduce something so spellbinding to one word, when the colors invited her to marvel in their simplicity and beauty? Renee chose to focus on Quinn's eyes, which were darting back and forth, shining into the sunlight. They held secrets, the same way a pot holds layers of deep soil- cradling- because it is essential to keep the plant safe. The roots held in place the same way his dark, liquid eyes held so tightly onto his secrets. His eyes were bewitching. She opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the arrival of their waiter, a nice-looking young man in his early forties named Tino dressed in jeans and the restaurant's T-shirt, a pad and pencil in his hand, ready to take their orders. He was unusually tall, with a thick tuft of dark hair and a scruffy five o' clock shadow, but it suited the man and his tanned skin.
"Hey, Quinn!" Tino said brightly, his face lighting up in recognition as he slipped Quinn a high-five. "Been a while, man, haven't seen you in here lately! Was starting to think you forgot about this place!" Tino's gaze drifted to Renee and understanding lit in his dark eyes. "Who's this? A friend of yours?"
Quinn nodded, smiling politely at his friend as his eyes wandered back over to Renee. He locked eyes with her again and she could see just how deep they really were. They were not a solid brown, as she had previously thought, now that she saw up close. No, this man's eyes were spirals of earthy brown colliding with honey droplets and even a green color filled those two orbs of his with a magnificent light, almost spellbinding. "Oh, Tino, sorry about that, uh, this is Renee, Renee Barreau, she's the girl I was telling you about, the one in our Creative Writing class, the only one to get her work published, she's my date," he stammered, his face growing flustered as he seemingly forgot his manners, as Tino waited for his friend to introduce her to him. "Renee, Tino, he's the manager here. He's a nice guy."
Tino grinned, revealing an infectious smile. "Pleasure, ma'am, Quinn here is a gem." His tone was polite enough, though Renee was not fooled. She could see it in his eyes that the man thought they were an item. Though she would admit Quinn was handsome, she had a personal fear about dating someone even in the same class as her. She had heard horror stories of school romances that ended in disaster, if the couples ever broke up; it was doom for everyone involved, both coworkers and the couple alike. It took Renee a second before she realized Tino had asked what she wanted to drink.
"What?" she stammered, reluctantly pulling herself away from Quinn's eyes, feeling her cheeks flush red and high with color for having been caught. "I—I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention, sir! Would you mind repeating that, please?"
Tino smirked; exchanging a brief glance with Quinn, as though to tell his friend he knew all too well what was going with her. "No problem, ma'am, I was asking if there was something, I could get you to drink? Water?"
"Yeah, waters would be great, Tino, thanks! We might need a few minutes to decide," spoke up Quinn, coming to Renee's rescue. Whether he could sense her nervousness or not, she did not know, nor did she have time to ponder this as Tino handed them a couple menus, promising to give them a few minutes to look over the choices. "He's nice. He listens, most managers don't," he joked playfully, watching her over his menu.
"He is," agreed Renee warmly, watching Tino disappear around the corner before returning her attention back to the enormous menu, three pages long. "I'm a little overwhelmed by all these choices, it all looks good!" she admitted, allowing herself a weak little laugh. "Since you've been here without me, and I've never eaten here, what would you recommend?" she asked, biting her lip playfully and waiting for Quinn to say something. Anything just to hear him talk more. He always did have an amazing voice, and if she discovered he sang, she imagined he would be a baritone.
Quinn looked startled, as though he had not anticipated her asking him such a simple question. "Any one of the burritos are pretty good, last time I was here, I got the chicken or steak. Since this is your first time, I'd stick with something simple. Though I have to warn you, this place's burritos are huge. I'm talking leftovers for at least a couple days, though for you, I'd say at least a week. But if you're game, then I'd get one of the burritos if I were you, this place is famous for them," he explained, just in time for Tino to return to their corner booth, a platter of salsa and chips in his hand, their waters in the other. "I think we're good, Tino. I know I'm all set, anyway," he said teasingly, handing his menu to the manager. Tino nodded, pulling out his pad and pencil.
"In that case, what can I get you guys?"
"Usual for me, Tino, chicken burrito, the works."
Tino nodded not even needing to write it down. He turned to Renee, who was fighting back a smile of her own. "And for you, miss? What'll you have?" he asked cordially. He fell silent and waited for her answer.
Renee hesitated, still biting her lip. She was torn between the chicken, steak or beef burritos. "I'll try the beef burrito, please, Tino. Thanks!" Renee flipped her menu shut and handed it off to Tino, who nodded. "Is it good? If it's not, I'll be sorely disappointed," she teased.
"Oh yeah, it's the best if you ask me, miss," nodded Tino warmly. "All our burritos are served with refried beans, hot sauce, cheese, Pico de Gallo, sour cream, and guacamole, is that okay? Do you have any known food allergies that need substitutions, Miss Barreau?"
Renee shook her head happily. "Nope! I'm good!"
"Even the hot sauce? Wow, I'm impressed with this one, Quinn! That's a relief," joked the last restaurant manager, taking her menu from her and pouring her a fresh glass of water. "The girl at the meeting Quinn's department had, she threw a fit when her food came out with beans, and she never told the waiter she was allergic to them or to hold them off the order, so of course, she made a fuss."
She rolled her eyes at the story, reaching for her water and sipping it through her straw. "That was your first mistake, then, Mr. Benson," she teased, turning her attentions back to Quinn, who was looking amused at the turn the conversation had taken. "The last girl wasn't me. I happen to like most foods. Except anchovies and broccoli," she added, almost as an afterthought.
"You like hot sauce, huh? Since when?" teased Quinn, shooting her an intrigued glance before glancing up at Tino, who was watching Renee as though she were an interesting animal behind bars in some kind of exotic zoo, as though he'd never met a woman quite like her. For just a minute, Renee could have sworn she saw the briefest flickers of jealousy pass through Quinn's eyes, him having noticed the way the restaurant's manager was eyeing her a little too interested, but just as soon as it came, it was gone.
Renee fell silent for a few minutes, before dipping into her purse and pulling out a tiny Tupperware container. Nothing unusual about its contents, it was just her leftovers from the night before. Renee had packed her lunch in the off chance no one would want to have lunch with her on her first day on the job, just in case. She didn't say a word as she slid it across the table and gave a curt little nod, signaling it was okay for Quinn to taste test a small bite. He tasted just the tiniest morsel, but it was enough for him to immediately reach for his water glass, coughing and his face drained of color almost instantly after the first bite. "Jesus Christ, you weren't kidding," he said once he'd downed most of his water. "Is your food naturally that spicy all the time?"
"Yeah," she retorted, going a little on the defensive as he slid her container back towards her. Renee removed her fork from the wrapped silverware next to her and took two bites of it just to prove she could eat it with no problem. "I just really love it that way, Quinn. Do you have a problem with that? Is the spiciness too much for you?" She caught his eye and shot him a little wink.
"No," he answered immediately, his face still flushed from how spicy that single bite of food was. If anything, he was looking impressed with her ability to eat it no problem. "I guess I just didn't peg you for a spices lover."
Renee grinned, sticking her tongue out at him. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Mr. Benson. It's up to you to figure them all out," she laughed, noticing how his brown eyes would light up whenever she would laugh or smile.
"That's why we're here," he said happily. "Also, I had an entirely selfish reason for taking you out to lunch today. I was hoping you would join me for a movie."
Renee smiled. "Sure! I'd like that! Fair waring though, I'm not into chick flicks."
"Horror?" he asked, taking a gander at what her favorite genre might be.
She glanced up at him in the midst of dunking another chip into her hot sauce.
"How did you guess?" she grinned, and she laughed as his shoulders almost seemed to sag in relief.
"It's the tenseness in the shoulders. Also, I might have noticed that," here, he jerked his head towards her purse, and his gaze drifted towards the tiny little Funko keychain she had clipped to her pink purse of Pennywise. "I can tell a fellow horror lover when I see one. About time I met a fellow horror movie fan," he joked.
"Finally," she muttered, shooting him a furtive little wink as she reached for her water to take a sip. "I've been looking forward to meeting someone who shares my affinity for all things scary." Renee, meanwhile, she smiled at Quinn, sensing his nervousness, hoping the simple gesture was enough to calm him down and allow him to enjoy the moment. She laughed as she reached over and swiped a chip off his plate, dunking it in the jalapeño hot sauce and laughing at his reaction. Renee opened her mouth to speak further but didn't get a chance as Tino came back to their booth with their food, balancing the tray with both hands, hot pads underneath both their plates to protect his hands.
"Careful, you two, it's hot," he warned with a wide grin. "Enjoy your food! Are you sure I can't get you guys anything else? Waters? Some more hot sauce?"
"Thanks, Tino. I think I'm set and—Jesus! You weren't kidding, Quinn, these are huge! What in the world did I get myself into, there's no way I can eat all of this!" Renee exclaimed, feeling her eyes grow wide and round as a dinner plate at the size of their burritos. She poked it once with a fork. The thing was loaded. Her plate was piled with chips off to the side and a side of refried beans and rice. The beef burrito itself was a mega burrito and would easily provide her with dinner the next four nights. And as for the generous helping of rice and refried beans, well those in it were worthy of a heaping plate of nachos later and a Netflix movie. "This burrito is huge! There's no way I'll be able to eat this in one go, I'll definitely need a box, Tino, please, maybe make that two," she exclaimed. "I don't know if all this will fit in one! This is leftovers for the week!"
"Same goes for me," laughed Quinn, snorting at her expression at how large their entrees were. "Told you, this place has good food. Their portions are huge. Whenever I come here, I always have leftovers for at least a couple of days, and they're even better the second day. Just trust me on this. You'll love it. You won't be disappointed, Renee."
When Quinn smiled at Renee, she was left with a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach she could not quite describe. To be with someone who genuinely appreciated you for the real you, not who everybody else wanted you to be. There was something about the way Quinn Benson smiled; the way butterflies seemed to escape from the pit of his stomach and the way the sun had somehow toppled down from the sky and made a home right there in his heart. He had the kind of smile that made you happy to be alive and just that little bit more human.
Quinn's soft lips stretched into a smile, but it did not quite reach his blue eyes, as if he was remembering something unpleasant. They were lit with sadness, and the forced expression of the contrary mouth would have looked comical to her if it did not currently make Renee's heart feel heavy. For a few moments, she stared at him; almost sure, his expression mirrored hers. She did not want to be the smile that squeezed his chest somewhere far away. Renee did not want him to go. She wanted him and his smile to stay. Quinn was suddenly looking uncomfortable and flustered as he ran a hand through his red hair between bites.
"I uh…I realize this might be inappropriate, but…" His voice trailed off as his brown eyes met hers and he blanched, his face draining of color as he dared to look at her. Renee smiled, knowing where he was trying to go with this. But it was clear to her he needed some help, some friendly guidance. Renee grinned, setting down her fork and opting to dunk one of the chips into the huge pile of refried beans and dipping the chip and bean mixture into the hot sauce. She decided to put him out of his misery since he was so very clearly struggling to phrase what was on his mind. "Would you want to take a brief walk before our movie? Walk off some of this food?" he managed to gasp out, reaching for his water.
"Yeah," she answered immediately without even having to think of her answer. "A walk sounds like a great idea!"
He relaxed into a smile. Clearly, he had been expecting her to say no for some reason. Quinn took one look at his food, deciding he had had enough, and proceeded to box up his leftovers, Renee taking a leaf out of his book and doing the exact same thing. Renee shrugged her shoulders, setting her take-home box aside and reaching for her purse. He made to swat her hand away, reaching for his own wallet, but not before she was able to pull out a couple dollar bills from her little bi-fold sloth wallet her mom had gotten her for Christmas a few years ago. "Put that away, Renee. Didn't I tell you I was buying our lunch?
"At least let me leave a tip since you paid for lunch," she joked, as he hailed Tino to take their check.
"We should get going if we want to hit up the movie's," he said, almost sounding reluctant to leave. "Here, give that here before you spill something," he instructed, though his request wasn't unkind, seeing how she was struggling to adjust her purse and hold her take home box containing her leftovers. "Thanks for joining me for lunch, Renee," he said softly, leaning over to sling his arm around her shoulder. Their first date following their lunch had been cracking sidewalks and watery sunshine that struggled past the clouds. They had made several loops of their block, how many neither of them can recall. On the first few circuits the talk had been shy, almost becoming familiar and then each of them backing away.
Another few circuits and they knew more about one another than many members of their own family, their fingers entwined in a loose grip, and Quinn had already asked Renee if she was interested in a second and third date, and she'd seen by the look in his eyes that he wanted to ask her to be his girlfriend, so, to save him the embarrassment, she asked for him, which he excitedly agreed. It was odd for her to make a romantic connection this fast, but...just as it happened with Quasi, it was happening with Quinn now, and who was she to deny her feelings?
On the final loop around, Quinn had pulled Renee close into a kiss that stopped all her anxious thoughts dead in their tracks. They both knew in that instant they had found their other half and that fate had dealt them a dangerous hand... He kissed her and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek as their breaths mingled. She ran her fingers down his spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them and she could feel the beating of his heart against her chest.
The kiss obliterated every thought. For the first time in what felt like forever, Renee's mind was locked into the present. The worries of the day evaporated like a summer shower onto a hot car. Her usual mode of hurrying from one thing to the next in order to distract herself from her depression ever since re-entering reality was suspended, and she had no wish for the kiss to end. Drunk on endorphins her only desire was to touch Quinn, to move her hands under his layers and feel the man's perfect softness. In moments the soft caress has become firmer, he savored her lips and the quickening of her breath that matched his kiss was gentle, passionate, and everything she could have hoped for.
It's strange – frightening even – how you can go from someone being a complete stranger, to then being completely infatuated by them and wondering how it ever was that you were able to live without them, because you sure as hell couldn't imagine being without them now.
This was how Renee felt about Quinn after just one kiss. She knew at twenty-three, she was still considered quite young, and most people would consider her to be foolish and naïve, but it was true when she thought that she liked him more than she did herself. She knew after their first kiss (and the many that followed then) that he was her new love and, as cheesy as it sounds, he was her anchor. Her one stability in this world filled with chaos.
A kiss like this was a beginning, a promise of much more to come.
Finally, she felt like she was home.
Author's Note: And that's the end. I felt it only fitting to give Renee as happy of an ending as I could think of. I didn't think she could stay in the story forever, so I gave her a modernized "handsome Q" of her own to spend the rest of her natural days with. It seemed the only right way to end it, in my opinion.
Anyways, that's my story. For those following the story, I hope that you enjoyed it. :)
