Sainta glanced the exquisite apartment Bryan had lead her to. She didn't have much time to look around, her 'patient' needed her at the moment. But from what she saw - This'll be a treasure hunt worth taking.
Her and Bryan walked to the bedroom, that was off the main room. She ordered him to bed. Bryan only sat, still weeping uncontrollably as though it were the first moment he was told of the accident.
Sainta pushed him down when he wouldn't lay down for her. Another audible sob rose from the man's chest. "Shh…it'll be all right." She stroked his forehead, rubbing back the damp strands of hair. "You'll make yourself sick with grief."
"I don't care" came a shaky voice, softly. "I want die too."
The scene was almost more than the girl could bare. Now a tear escaped from her eye. She wiped it away, quickly. "Don't say that. Time will heal all wounds."
She headed to the bathroom, returning with a wet cloth. "Go to sleep, my angel." The cool cloth caressed Bryan's forehead and cheeks, soothing the hotness. Bryan let his emotions subside and relaxed finally, as the comforting voice of his redeemer began to sing…
"Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart, Naught be all else to me, save that thou art, Thou my best thought by day or by night, waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light."
***
The girl stayed by Bryan's side till she knew for sure he had fallen asleep. She sighed unobtrusively, glancing down one more time at the shattered man, before quietly walking out the bedroom. She realized how warm her body had become. Slipping off her shirt-coat and rolling up her sleeves, Sainta went to work exploring the apartment.
The first place she looked was the mantle above the fireplace. Only photographs in sliver frames and little trinkets were displayed on it. She shook her head - Nothing here. She decided to try the desk near-by. There, sat more framed photographs. On the right corner of the desk was a picture of a bundle of boys in front of a building. I wonder what the story is behind this photo.
On the left corner of the desk, a beautiful brunette stared back at Sainta. This must be the lost love - she mused. She picked up the frame to examine the lady better. A prim smile shone off the lady. Her slender hands laid atop one another in her lap. The neck of the lace collar was raised almost to her chin. Snob? Stiff-neck? No, she couldn't of been. Snobs do not actually smile.
Sainta placed the frame back in it's rightful place, and moved on to the papers sitting in the middle of the desk. She always took the opportunity to explore the personal lives of the men she helped. The first item was a letter out of the envelope, appearing as though it had been read more than once. She began to read it.
To my dearest man,
I miss you terribly, Bryan. I think of you almost every waking moment of the day. How did we live without each other after you left Cuba? I cannot remember a time as that. We will be together soon.
My father and mother are doing well. They brought me out on their yacht last Friday. It was a pleasant time. I will be coming home to Manhattan on the 23rd. Please meet me at Grand Central Station. I will telegram my schedule soon. Till then, Bryan.
Love Sincerely,
Renee Kessy
The girl dropped the letter as if she'd been burned. It wasn't the first time she'd read letters so private before, but this one had a sense of secrecy - a line that was not suppose to be broken in to. A blood-curtailing cry screamed impatiently from the bedroom. Sainta drove herself to the room, and fell to Bryan's side. He was ghastly pale and trembling like mad. His eyes watered and blank from inner pain.
"Bryan, please calm down" she pressed gently, kneading his forehead.
"Renee! Renee, come back to me!" he screamed, in a nightmare trance.
Sainta did the only thing she could think of. Her voice became deeper and decorous, "Bryan, my love, don't cry. I'm here." She climbed onto the bed, wrapping her arms tightly around him - cuddling the poor man. "It'll be all right." Bryan sobbed on her chest. All the while, the girl tried soothing him.
As they laid there, the sun was setting. Light turned into dark, and Sainta fell asleep holding the man fifteen years her elder.
***
Goodness, this fic is coming along so smooth for me, I'm almost in shock! *has a heart attack from being in shock* hehe, j/k! Hope everyone is enjoying it. Thanks for the great reviews!!!
Her and Bryan walked to the bedroom, that was off the main room. She ordered him to bed. Bryan only sat, still weeping uncontrollably as though it were the first moment he was told of the accident.
Sainta pushed him down when he wouldn't lay down for her. Another audible sob rose from the man's chest. "Shh…it'll be all right." She stroked his forehead, rubbing back the damp strands of hair. "You'll make yourself sick with grief."
"I don't care" came a shaky voice, softly. "I want die too."
The scene was almost more than the girl could bare. Now a tear escaped from her eye. She wiped it away, quickly. "Don't say that. Time will heal all wounds."
She headed to the bathroom, returning with a wet cloth. "Go to sleep, my angel." The cool cloth caressed Bryan's forehead and cheeks, soothing the hotness. Bryan let his emotions subside and relaxed finally, as the comforting voice of his redeemer began to sing…
"Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart, Naught be all else to me, save that thou art, Thou my best thought by day or by night, waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light."
***
The girl stayed by Bryan's side till she knew for sure he had fallen asleep. She sighed unobtrusively, glancing down one more time at the shattered man, before quietly walking out the bedroom. She realized how warm her body had become. Slipping off her shirt-coat and rolling up her sleeves, Sainta went to work exploring the apartment.
The first place she looked was the mantle above the fireplace. Only photographs in sliver frames and little trinkets were displayed on it. She shook her head - Nothing here. She decided to try the desk near-by. There, sat more framed photographs. On the right corner of the desk was a picture of a bundle of boys in front of a building. I wonder what the story is behind this photo.
On the left corner of the desk, a beautiful brunette stared back at Sainta. This must be the lost love - she mused. She picked up the frame to examine the lady better. A prim smile shone off the lady. Her slender hands laid atop one another in her lap. The neck of the lace collar was raised almost to her chin. Snob? Stiff-neck? No, she couldn't of been. Snobs do not actually smile.
Sainta placed the frame back in it's rightful place, and moved on to the papers sitting in the middle of the desk. She always took the opportunity to explore the personal lives of the men she helped. The first item was a letter out of the envelope, appearing as though it had been read more than once. She began to read it.
To my dearest man,
I miss you terribly, Bryan. I think of you almost every waking moment of the day. How did we live without each other after you left Cuba? I cannot remember a time as that. We will be together soon.
My father and mother are doing well. They brought me out on their yacht last Friday. It was a pleasant time. I will be coming home to Manhattan on the 23rd. Please meet me at Grand Central Station. I will telegram my schedule soon. Till then, Bryan.
Love Sincerely,
Renee Kessy
The girl dropped the letter as if she'd been burned. It wasn't the first time she'd read letters so private before, but this one had a sense of secrecy - a line that was not suppose to be broken in to. A blood-curtailing cry screamed impatiently from the bedroom. Sainta drove herself to the room, and fell to Bryan's side. He was ghastly pale and trembling like mad. His eyes watered and blank from inner pain.
"Bryan, please calm down" she pressed gently, kneading his forehead.
"Renee! Renee, come back to me!" he screamed, in a nightmare trance.
Sainta did the only thing she could think of. Her voice became deeper and decorous, "Bryan, my love, don't cry. I'm here." She climbed onto the bed, wrapping her arms tightly around him - cuddling the poor man. "It'll be all right." Bryan sobbed on her chest. All the while, the girl tried soothing him.
As they laid there, the sun was setting. Light turned into dark, and Sainta fell asleep holding the man fifteen years her elder.
***
Goodness, this fic is coming along so smooth for me, I'm almost in shock! *has a heart attack from being in shock* hehe, j/k! Hope everyone is enjoying it. Thanks for the great reviews!!!