What's In A Name?
By: Footnote
Act I:
The Turk Named Valentine
Part VI:
A Moment of Peace
After dinner and everyone was full and well fed, including Vincent, they all strolled back to the mansion in a long horizontal line. The night sky was, as always, overflowing with stars. Bright ones, dim ones, some glittered and shimmered, some had a steady flow of light, some were in clusters, some stood alone, some looked like flowers, some looked like eyes, but all were bright enough to be seen. The little windmill on the town's well turned silently in the chilly breeze of October and created a peaceful atmosphere around the little ShinRa group. Hardly anyone was out since the town was filled with early risers that worked the mines in the mountains so they were all that was out there.
They walked in contented, contemplating silence. Vincent, for the first time that night, was able to keep his eyes off Lucrecia long enough to see where he was going. The mansion was barely two minutes from the diner, so the trip was short and the five were standing in the significantly warmer environment of the mansion's foyer.
"Do you want to get your book now or later?" Lucrecia asked when all the coats were hung. Vincent turned to her.
"Now would be fine." No one interfered as he followed her to her room.
Lucrecia's room in the mansion was nothing exceptional. Everyone had a room that had relatively the same furnishings, but some were furnished differently. Lucrecia had chosen the room with the bookshelf for good reason; she really did have a small library. Vincent marveled over the books for a beat before turning to the lovely woman who owned every page.
"Wow," he muttered as he ran his delicate fingers over the spines.
"They're sorta jumbled up…genre I mean. You'll have to dig around to find something you like," the obvious shyness of Lucrecia rang clearly through her voice as well.
She never was like this before…she could open up to me before, Vincent's bright eyes flicked from the volumes to Lucrecia, who was standing only a few steps away. She fidgeted under his scrutiny uncomfortably.
Vincent opened his mouth for a moment before the whisper escaped his lips, "Are you okay?"
An audible sigh escaped the russet-haired woman. She looked up at Vincent hopelessly. Her blue eyes, more sapphire than a morning glory, were filled with uncertainty, not with him entirely, but with the project. Her gaze was of blunt pain and confusion, one that Vincent understood well. Her lips were grasping for words to form, and they finally did.
"I'm sorry," she murmured. Honey-amber eyes widened for an instant in surprise.
"For what?"
"For…everything…" she avoided his gaze at all cost, finding her hands suddenly fascinating. It was an all-inclusive "sorry." Sorry for me being me.
Vincent stayed carefully silent for a moment longer. He seemed to be planning out how the next set of words would become a sentence. "You are forgiven, you know," the words were very soft. The invisible audience watched the assassin and the scientist soundlessly, waiting to see what would happen next.
"You were forgiven before we even met…" Vincent inwardly wondered why he was whispering. The walls were solid the door was heavy and thick; it wasn't like anyone could be eavesdropping on them. The air between them and all through the room was fragile as the finest glass, as if to move or speak too loud would break the spell and everything would be lost.
"Thank you, Vincent," Lucrecia's oceanic gaze finally fell on his own. The invisible audience slowly began to file away and the glass spell melted from the room.
"I missed you…"
Vincent sighed heavily with relief, "Gods, I missed you, too."
The scientist looked toward him, her quizzical gaze seemed to ask "Really?" It took her a moment to actually say what lay behind her eyes.
Vincent nodded, "More than you'll ever know." The Turk finally stepped toward his beloved, feeling the old affection rushing back through him once again. Lucrecia fell into his awaiting embrace. It was something she had wanted to do for a long time now, and that dark figure she saw in her sweetest dreams had come back to her.
Vincent rested the tip of his angled chin on Lucrecia's crown, breathing the wonderful aroma that was her. Sweeter than any flower, richer than any fruit, smoother than the finest honey…all was his Lucrecia. He stayed perfectly still, a hand entangled in bittersweet locks, bright eyes sealed away from the world and simply enjoyed the moment. They remained that way for a long moment, two lovers in a Renaissance painting, cursed and blessed to stay forever in that embrace.
"Do you still want your book?" Lucrecia asked, her voice muffled by the soft, navy blue material of Vincent's jacket. He could hear the smile in her words.
"What do you recommend?" he countered, contentment etched in his features as well. Lucrecia pulled away from him slightly, gesturing to the bookshelf.
"This one is good," she turned from him and stood on her toes to reach the top shelf. Vincent couldn't help but smile; she did look rather cute reaching like a little child for the cookie jar. Lucrecia pulled a well-read hardcover novel from the top and dusted off the front while returning to her seat beside her love. The title read When Seraphim Scream, Vincent observed. The cover held a picture of a silver-haired angel reaching for the heavens as he fell from them. Curious, he thought. He'd never heard of the author before either. It sounded like the text might be foreign, but after a quick flip through the relatively thick book's pages, it proved to be readable.
"The title's kind of misleading, which is one of the things I like about it. It might not quite be your style though…" Lucrecia turned around and rummaged through her bookshelf again. Once more she located a desired book from the shelves and came back to Vincent's side. This went on for quite awhile.
Twelve books and a few hours later, the sun was peaking through Lucrecia's window on the dawn of October fourteenth. Vincent lay rather haphazardly on the bed, his elbow supporting his head and the first few buttons of his suit shirt undone. He glanced tiredly over to the spot where he had laid his jacket and shoes over a chair and slowly blinked back to Lucrecia, barely awake as well, leaning against the headboard. The both of them were certainly more asleep than awake. Lucrecia yawned and looked at her watch before her hand fell back to her side with a tired thud.
"What time is it?" Vincent sleep-slurred. He sounded like he was awakening to a hangover.
"6:47," Lucrecia yawned again.
"Can I ask you a question?" the Turk was in no condition to figure anything out right now, so Lucrecia complied.
"The next time we stay up all night talking, can we do it when we don't have to work the next day?" This question was so far beyond something Vincent would normally ask that Lucrecia giggled exhaustedly, waking herself up somewhat.
"Of course, love. But today is Saturday…"
There was about three minutes of dead silence before Vincent finally croaked out, "That's good…"
The scientist once again chuckled and ran a hand through his silk raven locks. It was as rich as black earth in the deepest forests that ran wild so long ago. Its sheen of deep blue gave the effect of a night sky without the dimpled starts to stud it. Midnight made satin, was his poetic Valentine hair.
Lucrecia's gaze flitted from his birds' down hair to his brightly intelligent eyes. He watched her as she watched him, both wondering at the miracles of each other as unspoken thoughts of love and how they ever found someone like them flicked between them like cherubs loosing a torrent of arrows from one pair of bright eyes to the next.
Vincent's eyes were filled with thoughts that would never escape their prison behind them. They seemed to be the color of warm hazelnut coffee filled to the brim with sweet cream, flecks of cinnamon and touches of chocolate shavings floating across the surface in the warm morning. Or maybe a crystal mug filled with sweet, dark tea with the most exquisite honey for a treat, unmixed at the bottom.
Those same eyes stared into oceanic blue ones that silently scrutinized his own. Deep blue seemed to cover the canvas that started them. Little dew drops of light blue, morning sky and azure mist flecked indefinitely through perfect cerulean irises. Perfect pale indigo radiated from the center like the corona of an eclipse. An eternal splash in a deep mirroring pool…like a waterfall… Vincent noticed.
Lucrecia broke their direct contact after a moment by closing her butterfly blue eyes and sighing into a dose. Vincent didn't register that she had moved for a moment before realizing that his beautiful Lucrecia was sleeping peacefully against a white pillow beneath her bittersweet head. He blinked in an exhausted stupor before he finally slumped forward just far enough that his weary head fell from his palm and onto the pillow next to Lucrecia's. His crumpled, haggard form finally resting against the soft comforter of his love's bed. Vincent was at last at rest and his worn out mind slowly began to sift through sweet images of the slumbering angel next to him.