Disclaimer: Don't own em. Kaput!
Authors Notes: Yea, chapter 2 did happen. Unfortunately, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, and my physics assignment didn't happen (but it will). Thanx to Kahlia 4 all her plentyfull help. I took an guess on the mile thing, its about 1.6km, I hope. Ah that's bout it. Thanks sooooo much 4 the reviews. You are all legends! I just wanna 2 apologise for spelling, grammatical errors and inaccuracies.
PLZ R& R!
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His eyes straightened, awakened by the gentle tapping of a thousand simultaneous drops on the window. His eyes traced their patterns down the glass. Outside was still indistinguishable, clouded by sheets of water pouring from the sky, the occasional iridescent fork of electricity followed with a booming crackle. The room lit, shadows emerging from nowhere. He began to count, '1, 2.' and ceased with the expectant boom. Quarter mile away. He remembered what his dad told him when he was 5. "That's just the men in the clouds fighting, Bob. They shoot bolts of hot light at each other. That noise, that's them yelling at each other." He smiled at the story, 'The reckoning of the gods.' It was 2 years later when he discovered that it was static electricity all along. He stretched, removing his gaze from the dark exterior to the ivory ceiling. Then reality hit, he was lying next to her and what had occurred was no longer hidden by the comfort of sleep. She was still very much asleep, but that would not last infinitely, hell, that wouldn't last another twenty minutes. And then reality would set in.bluntly, plainly, obviously.. nothing could stop it. Surreal; that was the concept that had defined last night, a dreamy state of indulgence. But what now? Should he go now? He had, maybe fifteen minutes. Would his disappearance hurt her more than waking up next to him? Should he run, and leave her the week to contemplate the consequences, or would this compound everything? His fear of hurting her was compelling him stay, maybe a little longer. He gazed at her, burying her head into the pillow, hands desperately grasping the last of the sheets over her shoulder. Radiant still, with mussed hair and mascara that lay smudged below her eyes. He lay his head back onto the pillow, lost in its complexities. Focusing on the shadows formed in the crevasses of ceiling joinings. Why the impurities? White was never just white, white was every colour in the spectrum. The reds of anger, blues of depression, yellows of love and greens of envy; all this produced white. It was the colour that resembled the paragon of humility. He could see she was restless, and the 15 minutes had evaporated before him.
Her eyelids fluttered as she woke, then opened when she caught his image in the corner of her eye. "Morning." She spoke, the awkwardness was obvious. And Bobby knew it then, he should have run. If only so that he didn't need to see her stumble for words in his presence. Then she contradicted it, stitting up and oh so easily placing her hand around his, "I'm glad you stayed."
He smiled vaguely, rising from his back to meet her eye level. "I'm going to have to go, Alex."
"Right now?" She asked, a little perturbed.
He shook his head, "nah." He said, eyes deepening into his palms as he paused. He raised his head, taking in the crimson walls, wine curtains and sallow ceiling. "20 minutes." He finished, meeting her eyes again. Her face seemed ivory in emotion, a thousand feelings drowning each other into equilibrium.
She encircled her hand in his, appealing her eyes to him. "What do we do about this?"
Bobby took a deep breath in contemplation. "Alex." His voice held back in haste.
"Well, it won't disappear Bobby."
"I know that." His tone changed in frustration, he tried not to hurt her. "Can we hold this off a while? Just till I get back." Dropping her slight hand from his grasp and getting out of bed, providing symbolic finality to his words. He began to hunt down each article of clothing.
"A week?" She retorted.
"A week."
"Do you want me to sit on the shelf for you while you're away?" The condescension hung in her voice.
"Alex. Don't. " He pleaded, turning to face her. She took a deep breath and looked out the window to the obscure sky. Wrapping her arms around her bent legs. She wanted him to know everything and temptation to blurt it out was intensifying. It was a pressure pushing on her heart and chocking in her throat. It was swelling in her eyes and throbbing in her head. And while it endeavored to engulf her, her fear and pride struggled to fight it back. She turned back to him, buttoning his shirt.
"We have time Alex." He tried to make good, but she didn't acknowledge it, her eyes avoiding his. He walked over to her, sitting beside her petite frame. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he cocked his head, searching for her eye line. "I'm sorry. but." He paused, taking in every emotion in her chocolate eyes. "It's just that, well. We need to get this right the first time, or everything might collapse."
"Alright then."
He pulled her into his chest and kissed her head. He was still warm, kind and gentle
"I have to go."
Alex nodded. He rose from the bed and walked from the room.
"I will call you as soon as I get there."
"Yep." She replied despondently, her hand supporting her neck. Trying to relieve the pressure, and hold herself strong. She was convincing.
He stopped at the doorway, turning back. "You will be alright, Alex?"
"Sure." She tried to sound convincing, he saw straight through it.
"Alex."
"Go Bobby."
He paused, bringing his hand to his chin. Surrendering he turned around and walked out.
She could still feel his presence long after he left the room. She lay back on the bed, the lilac pillows laced with the comfort of his sent. And she lay there, 'what had happened?' Tears began to swell. She never cried, and she wasn't going to this time. She clenched her hands around a pillow and willed the tears away. Her hands ached and her eyes burnt, but her stubbornness, her father's stubbornness, was going to win out. She convinced herself, she wasn't going to cry, not over this.
And he walked from the building onto the pavement, dodging drops as he ran for the car. Then he stopped and turned around. The bitter cold of rain cleared his head. What had he just done?
.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*: .:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*: .:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:
.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*: .:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*: .:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.
Authors Notes: Yea, chapter 2 did happen. Unfortunately, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, and my physics assignment didn't happen (but it will). Thanx to Kahlia 4 all her plentyfull help. I took an guess on the mile thing, its about 1.6km, I hope. Ah that's bout it. Thanks sooooo much 4 the reviews. You are all legends! I just wanna 2 apologise for spelling, grammatical errors and inaccuracies.
PLZ R& R!
.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*: .:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*: .:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:
.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*: .:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*: .:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.
His eyes straightened, awakened by the gentle tapping of a thousand simultaneous drops on the window. His eyes traced their patterns down the glass. Outside was still indistinguishable, clouded by sheets of water pouring from the sky, the occasional iridescent fork of electricity followed with a booming crackle. The room lit, shadows emerging from nowhere. He began to count, '1, 2.' and ceased with the expectant boom. Quarter mile away. He remembered what his dad told him when he was 5. "That's just the men in the clouds fighting, Bob. They shoot bolts of hot light at each other. That noise, that's them yelling at each other." He smiled at the story, 'The reckoning of the gods.' It was 2 years later when he discovered that it was static electricity all along. He stretched, removing his gaze from the dark exterior to the ivory ceiling. Then reality hit, he was lying next to her and what had occurred was no longer hidden by the comfort of sleep. She was still very much asleep, but that would not last infinitely, hell, that wouldn't last another twenty minutes. And then reality would set in.bluntly, plainly, obviously.. nothing could stop it. Surreal; that was the concept that had defined last night, a dreamy state of indulgence. But what now? Should he go now? He had, maybe fifteen minutes. Would his disappearance hurt her more than waking up next to him? Should he run, and leave her the week to contemplate the consequences, or would this compound everything? His fear of hurting her was compelling him stay, maybe a little longer. He gazed at her, burying her head into the pillow, hands desperately grasping the last of the sheets over her shoulder. Radiant still, with mussed hair and mascara that lay smudged below her eyes. He lay his head back onto the pillow, lost in its complexities. Focusing on the shadows formed in the crevasses of ceiling joinings. Why the impurities? White was never just white, white was every colour in the spectrum. The reds of anger, blues of depression, yellows of love and greens of envy; all this produced white. It was the colour that resembled the paragon of humility. He could see she was restless, and the 15 minutes had evaporated before him.
Her eyelids fluttered as she woke, then opened when she caught his image in the corner of her eye. "Morning." She spoke, the awkwardness was obvious. And Bobby knew it then, he should have run. If only so that he didn't need to see her stumble for words in his presence. Then she contradicted it, stitting up and oh so easily placing her hand around his, "I'm glad you stayed."
He smiled vaguely, rising from his back to meet her eye level. "I'm going to have to go, Alex."
"Right now?" She asked, a little perturbed.
He shook his head, "nah." He said, eyes deepening into his palms as he paused. He raised his head, taking in the crimson walls, wine curtains and sallow ceiling. "20 minutes." He finished, meeting her eyes again. Her face seemed ivory in emotion, a thousand feelings drowning each other into equilibrium.
She encircled her hand in his, appealing her eyes to him. "What do we do about this?"
Bobby took a deep breath in contemplation. "Alex." His voice held back in haste.
"Well, it won't disappear Bobby."
"I know that." His tone changed in frustration, he tried not to hurt her. "Can we hold this off a while? Just till I get back." Dropping her slight hand from his grasp and getting out of bed, providing symbolic finality to his words. He began to hunt down each article of clothing.
"A week?" She retorted.
"A week."
"Do you want me to sit on the shelf for you while you're away?" The condescension hung in her voice.
"Alex. Don't. " He pleaded, turning to face her. She took a deep breath and looked out the window to the obscure sky. Wrapping her arms around her bent legs. She wanted him to know everything and temptation to blurt it out was intensifying. It was a pressure pushing on her heart and chocking in her throat. It was swelling in her eyes and throbbing in her head. And while it endeavored to engulf her, her fear and pride struggled to fight it back. She turned back to him, buttoning his shirt.
"We have time Alex." He tried to make good, but she didn't acknowledge it, her eyes avoiding his. He walked over to her, sitting beside her petite frame. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he cocked his head, searching for her eye line. "I'm sorry. but." He paused, taking in every emotion in her chocolate eyes. "It's just that, well. We need to get this right the first time, or everything might collapse."
"Alright then."
He pulled her into his chest and kissed her head. He was still warm, kind and gentle
"I have to go."
Alex nodded. He rose from the bed and walked from the room.
"I will call you as soon as I get there."
"Yep." She replied despondently, her hand supporting her neck. Trying to relieve the pressure, and hold herself strong. She was convincing.
He stopped at the doorway, turning back. "You will be alright, Alex?"
"Sure." She tried to sound convincing, he saw straight through it.
"Alex."
"Go Bobby."
He paused, bringing his hand to his chin. Surrendering he turned around and walked out.
She could still feel his presence long after he left the room. She lay back on the bed, the lilac pillows laced with the comfort of his sent. And she lay there, 'what had happened?' Tears began to swell. She never cried, and she wasn't going to this time. She clenched her hands around a pillow and willed the tears away. Her hands ached and her eyes burnt, but her stubbornness, her father's stubbornness, was going to win out. She convinced herself, she wasn't going to cry, not over this.
And he walked from the building onto the pavement, dodging drops as he ran for the car. Then he stopped and turned around. The bitter cold of rain cleared his head. What had he just done?
.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*: .:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*: .:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:
.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*: .:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*: .:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.