Red Light, Green Light
"Don't turn red.
Don't turn red!! DO NOT TURN—"
Blink.
The green man switched to the all-too-familiar red "Don't
Walk" sign, and the cars swiftly drove through the crosswalk.
"--Red…."
Defeated, Collins stood on the corner of the sidewalk, where
he had hoped he would've been able to cross the intersection in time, before
the sign changed. He was late. Very late.
The teacher reunion was scheduled for 11:45 am, and it was already 5
past noon.
So much for trustworthy alarm clocks. After being awoken a half hour too late at
11:40 by the blaring radio of his alarm, he had scrambled like crazy to shower,
get dressed, and out the door in barely under 10 minutes. Which was not an easy thing to do when
Maureen was busy hogging the bathroom.
But he was still late.
Late late late.
With an exasperated sigh, he checked his watch, and leaned
up against the pole, impatiently waiting the signs to switch back.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Tucking a shoulder length dreadlock behind his ear and
pulling his crocheted cap back into place, he stared at the sign across the
street, waiting for the light to switch.
A watched pot never
boils, Tom. His mother had never
ceased to tell him that whenever he was impatient about something. Smiling to himself, he scratched at the
slight stubble that lingered on his usually bare face, itchy and uncomfortable,
which he had been too pressed for time to shave off that morning.
WHY WASN'T IT CHANGING?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
He looked around at the bustling crowd, the beeping cars,
eyes scanning over the familiar scene.
He always walked this route to the NYU campus. Nothing changed. Every
day it was exactly the same. The café
on the corner. The woman walking her
dog. The group of little girls on their
way to school.
The man just across the street from him, waiting for the light
to change to walk the other direction, clutching what seemed to be a…plastic
pickle tub in his arms.
Collins eyes landed on him just as the light for the cars
turned to yellow, insinuating that red would soon be coming.
He gasped.
His eyes widened, and his eyebrows arched up slightly.
Tom had never seen him before. Never. He had never
before been on his route to NYU. He was
certain. He wouldn't have just 'missed'
or 'not noticed' a creature so…so…
Beautiful.
He swallowed hard, staring in complete awe, without even
realizing it. And this was not
often. Collins was shy. Painfully shy. Too shy at times. The
quiet, insightful member of the loft, Collins was the one who could always be
counted on to blush at the slightest compliment, and never know what to say at
meeting new people. He could never
openly gaze so passionately at anyone, for the fearful pang of being caught…and
mortified beyond mortal comprehension.
But none of that seemed to matter at the moment. All self - consciousness melted away as his
eyes remained glued to the strangers' thin, small, almost fragile figure. His heart raced as his liquid brown eyes
wandered over the slim form. He was
shorter than Collins, but that wasn't a shock.
Collins was so tall and lanky that he towered over almost anyone you put
next to him. His hands shook slightly
as he drank in the others' dark black hair and eyes, caramel colored skin, and
the face of…of…
An Angel.
It was all so sudden.
Almost like a slap in the face.
His knees weakened, and he hung slightly onto the pole for support.
This was the first time—the
very first time—that Collins had ever felt this feeling. Ever.
He realized that he had been holding his breath, and drew in
a long, shaky gasp, trying to relax.
Was it possible for anyone—anyTHING to be so beautiful?
And it was at that moment that the stranger looked up. Suddenly.
Without warning. Straight across
the street, his eyes landing directly into Collins'.
Collins was pulled out of his oblivion, and realized that he
had been caught.
Immediately, his whole face flushed red and his head shot
down to look at the ground.
'Oh, dear god! He
knows! He saw me looking at him. Did he see me looking at him? Oh, God!
What if he saw me! Did he see me
staring? He HAD to see me staring. He looked right at me!'
He gulped deeply, vowing not to look back up. He couldn't look back up, because he knew
that, if he did, all he would have to do is see those eyes again and lose all
self-control. His body would just do as
his heart wished.
Oh, but that was already happening. The aching feeling spread through his body,
a burning will to gaze up and just look one more time at this total stranger
who somehow had this hold on him that he couldn't explain.
Thus, this time, he made no protest and let the force pull
his head up.
The man stared back.
Eyes wide. Almost
incredulous.
Their eyes met, locking into each other's, forming a mutual
understanding, a mutual understanding that neither one could actually
UNDERSTAND.
Collins swallowed hard, before realizing that he was
trembling from head to toe. The
stranger across the street did the same, drawing in a huge breath, blinking in
shock, almost as if he couldn't register what he was seeing.
Somehow, someway, even though each one was totally sure that
they had never before seen each other ever in their lives…
They knew each other.
There were a few more minutes of this magic, this…thing, before the lips of the drummer
curved up. His cheeks blushed slightly
as he flashed a small, quick, beautiful smile in Toms' direction.
Toms' knees faltered, and it took every bit of willpower he
had not to collapse right there. That
smile. That smile that had crumbled any
walls or barriers that the philosopher might have had up for any reason, that
warmed his insides and destroyed all coherent or logical thought.
Despite the red in his cheeks, Collins felt his own lips
curve up slightly, before blushing scarlet red and looking away, face hot,
smiling an embarrassed grin. He shifted
his weight from one foot to the other, focusing on the ground.
His head pulled back up just in time to see the red "Don't
Walk" turn to the long-awaited green man.
Both men noticed the change, and were pushed into the crowded street by
the other passer-bys. It was only
seconds before they realized that they were going to pass right by each other.
Their eyes still stayed glued into each other's, their gazes
transfixed, as they were bustled along, finally meeting in the middle of the
crosswalk. The whole world seemed to
slow down, to dwindle down to this, as they brushed past each other, with
absolutely no physical contact except the lightest of all brushings of fingers
together, feather soft, barely noticeable.
Both men trembled at the light touch, the warmth of skin against each
other, the spark of electricity that seemed to ignite at the contact. And before they knew it, it was all over,
and the world sped back up to normal pace, and they were rushed, blurred away,
each one pulled in his own direction by the crowd.
It wasn't before long that each man was now on the other
side of the street, and the walking green man turned back into the classic
"Don't Walk."
Both whirled around immediately after reaching their
destination, their eyes meeting once again, standing at each side of the
street, unwilling, almost unable to be separated. There was an ache, a burn, this lingering string of the most
intense, unknown feelings ever that hovered between the two, an understanding,
a friendship, a bond.
And they hadn't even so much as spoken one word to each
other.
How do we know each
other?
Who is this???
Again, the world just kind of faded out, before Collins
heard someone calling his name.
"Professor!!
PROFESSOR!"
The philosophers dreamy bubble burst as he heard the sharp
voice of a hurried woman invade his thoughts.
He turned around, distracted, unfocused, as she approached, grabbing him
by the hand.
"What are you DOING??
Do you have any idea how late you are??? Everyone is waiting!!!"
Collins recognized her, another professor, from the
psychology department. She continued
her tirade, Collins trying his hardest to pay attention, but not being able to
overpower his physical and emotional need to gaze longingly at that creature so
close, yet so far away from him.
What is going ON?
"What ARE you STARING at?!?!?!?" She demanded, hands on her hips.
Collins shook himself out of his daze, and turned to address
her.
"I…I…I uh…I just, I…."
He turned back to stare at the beautiful, graceful Latino,
who's eyes were still wide with wonder, and who's hands were still clutching
the pickle tub to him. His heart soared
with a pure, intense wave of emotion.
"I…"
The woman sighed, and dragged him up the stairs into the
building.
"Yeah, well, hurry up!
The Dean is angry enough as it is."
She opened the door and attempted to pull him inside behind
her. Collins saw the strangers'
beautiful black eyes fall in disappointment as she tried to drag him in the
door.
"No! Wait!!" Collins cried, freeing himself from her
grasp. "You don't understand! I…I can't…"
He turned back his head to steal one last glance at the
stranger, swallowing hard. It seemed as
though he could not bear to be torn away from him, to have him out of his
sight.
"I understand just fine," the woman snapped. "I'm late.
You're late. Now let's GO!"
And with that, she pulled him into the building, shutting
the door behind him.
~~
Angel watched as the door closed. His heart sank as the beautiful, tall stranger disappeared from
view. And at that moment he hated
whoever that woman was who dragged him out of her sight.
He couldn't leave.
Not now. What if he came back
out? What if, what if he just waited a
little bit longer, and he would come back?
WHO would come back?
What the hell had just happened? A total, unexpected, yet too-powerful-for-words…connection, an
attraction that he had never before felt…to a total stranger? Who was that man? Why had he—THEY—both felt that?
Why did he seem to know him?
Angel looked down at his hands, still holding the drum. His fingers still tingled from that light,
feather touch that he had been lucky enough to feel just once before this
stranger, this utter stranger who had somehow had such a hold on him had
disappeared from view.
Possibly for life?
He swallowed hard, drew in a deep breath, and finally, after
staring longingly at the door for what seemed an eternity, realized that the
stranger was not going to return. His
heart throbbed as he turned around and continued his walk en route back to his
apartment. Through the sadness and
disappointment, Angel repeated to himself what his mother had always told him
while he was growing up.
"You are not the one in control Angel. Whatever will happen will happen."
Angel sighed. As
hard as it was to accept it, it was the truth.
If him and this stranger were supposed to meet again, they would.
Why did he feel as though they would?
~~
Okay, so, like, this was my first posted fic of ANY kind,
ever. I just love Angel and Collins,
and I've been reading the fics here for an eternity now, so I figured, "Ah,
what the hell!! Let's go for the big
one!" Like I've already mentioned, it's
totally pointless…but at least the title is cute! (However, I'm prolly the only one who thinks that…hmmm….) =)
