Chapter 10 is up. Thanks for the reviews, everyone. I wrote this today at work, and I hope you all like it! I probably won't be writing anything for a week or two... I'm going on vacation starting this weekend. Please read and review, and if you have any ideas as to where I should go after this chapter, please share them with me... I have been plagued with writers block!!
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Chapter 10
We finished our dinner after an hour and a half of conversation. I was especially pleased that, in an hour and a half, I hadn't thought of work once.
I felt like I had learned more about Vaughn in one night than I had in the two years we had known each other. Until now, we had never gotten the chance to just sit and talk—about friends, hobbies, likes and dislikes. It had always been about work. Not that the desire hadn't been there. There had always been hints—traces of a personal life in our conversations. References to hockey games and pizza, casual comments about Francie's latest progress at the restaurant.
But we could never dig deeper. Never ask for more information. Work was work. And our personal lives were off limits.
But not tonight. Tonight had been about us. We had practically attacked each other with questions, filling up on the information we had been starving for over the past years.
And loving each other all the more.
"Well," I said, smiling as I studied his face in the light of the dimming candles. "I'm impressed.
"About what?" He asked, taking a slow sip of wine.
"The food. It was fantastic. I had my doubts about your cooking abilities, but you've definitely proven me wrong."
He chuckled. "I told you. Growing up with a French mother, you learn to cook. Whether you want to or not."
"Well, she taught you well." I said, absently tracing the rim of my empty wine glass.
We lapsed back into comfortable silence for several moments, before Vaughn spoke again.
"Well," he said, his voice hesitant. "Where do we go from here?"
I looked back at him and sighed, my face serious. "I don't know."
Vaughn reached across the table, grasping my hand in his, stroking my palm with his thumb, before moving his hand up to trace the cuts and bruises that covered my other arm.
"I wish I could end all this for you," he said softly, unable to look at me. "It kills me when you come home hurt. When you cry…" his voice trailed off, and he looked up at me shyly. "I just wish—" he paused again. "I wish I could make your life a little easier. But I feel like, if I do this—if we do this," he gestured between the two of us. "I'll just be making your life that much more difficult."
I sighed, realizing that we would have to have this conversation at some point, and now was as good a time as any.
"Vaughn—" I said, squeezing his hand in mine. "If anything, you make my life easier. You're the only person that I can be completely honest with, that I can talk to when I can't talk to anyone else. Just the fact that I can come home after a mission and see you here—" I gestured to the warehouse. "That I can hear your voice, and have you tell me you're glad I'm back safe…that means more to me than I could ever really tell you." I paused, looking into his eyes, making sure that he knew I was telling him the truth before continuing. "I'm not going to lie to you, and tell you that us being together will be easy, that there won't be problems. There will be problems, and it's going to be damn hard for me to see you at work every day, and not be able to touch you, or kiss you. But however hard it will be making this work, it would be a thousand times harder to pretend that none of this ever happened, and to go back to the way we were before."
"I'm scared, Syd," he admitted, avoiding my eyes. "I couldn't bear losing you."
"I'm scared too." I said softly. "Terrified. It's the main reason I never told you how I felt. I didn't want you to get hurt because of me. I didn't want to endanger your career." I paused, waiting until he looked up at me. "But if we're both scared, why not be scared together?"
He watched me for a minute, his forehead wrinkled, before breaking into a soft grin.
"I love you," he said. "So much."
"I love you, too." I pulled his hand up to my lips, placing a gentle kiss on the knuckle of this thumb. "This will all be over someday. That's what's kept me going for these last two years." I smiled. "That, and you."
"Come here," he said, standing up and pulling me up with him. He tugged me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me. Silently, he placed a kiss on the crown of my head.
We stayed like that, swaying slightly back and forth, comforting each other, until we both realized how late it was, and separated, and began counting the hours until the next time we would see each other.
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Like I said, if you have any suggestions on where I should go from here, please let me know. My email address is adele1013@email.com. And don't forget to review!
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Chapter 10
We finished our dinner after an hour and a half of conversation. I was especially pleased that, in an hour and a half, I hadn't thought of work once.
I felt like I had learned more about Vaughn in one night than I had in the two years we had known each other. Until now, we had never gotten the chance to just sit and talk—about friends, hobbies, likes and dislikes. It had always been about work. Not that the desire hadn't been there. There had always been hints—traces of a personal life in our conversations. References to hockey games and pizza, casual comments about Francie's latest progress at the restaurant.
But we could never dig deeper. Never ask for more information. Work was work. And our personal lives were off limits.
But not tonight. Tonight had been about us. We had practically attacked each other with questions, filling up on the information we had been starving for over the past years.
And loving each other all the more.
"Well," I said, smiling as I studied his face in the light of the dimming candles. "I'm impressed.
"About what?" He asked, taking a slow sip of wine.
"The food. It was fantastic. I had my doubts about your cooking abilities, but you've definitely proven me wrong."
He chuckled. "I told you. Growing up with a French mother, you learn to cook. Whether you want to or not."
"Well, she taught you well." I said, absently tracing the rim of my empty wine glass.
We lapsed back into comfortable silence for several moments, before Vaughn spoke again.
"Well," he said, his voice hesitant. "Where do we go from here?"
I looked back at him and sighed, my face serious. "I don't know."
Vaughn reached across the table, grasping my hand in his, stroking my palm with his thumb, before moving his hand up to trace the cuts and bruises that covered my other arm.
"I wish I could end all this for you," he said softly, unable to look at me. "It kills me when you come home hurt. When you cry…" his voice trailed off, and he looked up at me shyly. "I just wish—" he paused again. "I wish I could make your life a little easier. But I feel like, if I do this—if we do this," he gestured between the two of us. "I'll just be making your life that much more difficult."
I sighed, realizing that we would have to have this conversation at some point, and now was as good a time as any.
"Vaughn—" I said, squeezing his hand in mine. "If anything, you make my life easier. You're the only person that I can be completely honest with, that I can talk to when I can't talk to anyone else. Just the fact that I can come home after a mission and see you here—" I gestured to the warehouse. "That I can hear your voice, and have you tell me you're glad I'm back safe…that means more to me than I could ever really tell you." I paused, looking into his eyes, making sure that he knew I was telling him the truth before continuing. "I'm not going to lie to you, and tell you that us being together will be easy, that there won't be problems. There will be problems, and it's going to be damn hard for me to see you at work every day, and not be able to touch you, or kiss you. But however hard it will be making this work, it would be a thousand times harder to pretend that none of this ever happened, and to go back to the way we were before."
"I'm scared, Syd," he admitted, avoiding my eyes. "I couldn't bear losing you."
"I'm scared too." I said softly. "Terrified. It's the main reason I never told you how I felt. I didn't want you to get hurt because of me. I didn't want to endanger your career." I paused, waiting until he looked up at me. "But if we're both scared, why not be scared together?"
He watched me for a minute, his forehead wrinkled, before breaking into a soft grin.
"I love you," he said. "So much."
"I love you, too." I pulled his hand up to my lips, placing a gentle kiss on the knuckle of this thumb. "This will all be over someday. That's what's kept me going for these last two years." I smiled. "That, and you."
"Come here," he said, standing up and pulling me up with him. He tugged me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me. Silently, he placed a kiss on the crown of my head.
We stayed like that, swaying slightly back and forth, comforting each other, until we both realized how late it was, and separated, and began counting the hours until the next time we would see each other.
* * * * *
Like I said, if you have any suggestions on where I should go from here, please let me know. My email address is adele1013@email.com. And don't forget to review!