*Sorry it took me soo long to update!!! Anyway, here it is, Chapter 4!!!!!! I know I said that it would get happy, it does, but not this chapter. But please, trust me, it will!!!!!!!! That will come in future chapters!!!!! Thanks for the reviews, they let me know my stories are being read!!!!!! Now, enjoy!!!
Chapter 4- Telling him the Truth
Winding down the streets, looking at nothing, noticing nothing, I only think of him. His eyes, dark and full of love, running vividly in my mind, creating a gap hollowing out my heart. Halfway to my destination, I stop suddenly, causing meaningful people to jumble and run into nothing, me. I forgot to bring him anything. How could I do that? I didn't notice the line of busy people staring and cursing at me, I thought of where the nearest flower shop was. I stood there, expressionlessly gazing off into the blurriness of hustling bodies moving about. The closest shop popped into my head and without any thought of the line behind me, I left, hurrying.
I got there in two minutes, my heart miles behind me, chasing me. I crept up to the rows and baskets of gorgeous flowers calling me. Bouquets of every flower cascaded over the tops of trolleys and displays, I cried. I don't know why, but the sight of flowers now turned any thought into tears. After an hour of carefully examining each flower, each bouquet double checking its beauty, I decided on a bouquet that truly expressed what I thought of him.
The petals were soft, not a single drop of death or despair, the color rich and vibrant, unfading. The long stems gracefully trimmed and delicate, yet sturdy. Faint tears dusted the outskirts of the petals, cleaning them of any sorrow. Staring at each flower, my mind drifts back into the past. The past that holds such comfort even though it is laced with fear and unsettlement. I drift happily back to a time I where I wasn't alone, where I had someone to confide in.
Two weeks before the fateful mission that killed us both, I had received the same call that I get everyday reminding me of the cruel life I lead. I arrived at the warehouse and staggered in to see him, standing by the single table that is always there. On the top of the table, stood a long, skinny box. His head was poised staring off into the corridor where I would appear. He could always hear my faint steps approach him. He greeted me with his knee-buckling smile.
"Hi, how are you?" He stepped closer to me, his eyes yearning for something. I didn't know what.
"Good, thanks. You?"
"I'm getting along; hey, I heard your father and you had an argument this morning. Are you sure you're okay?" His eyes gleaming into mine, while reaching out his hand for my arm. He gently caressed my skin, sending sparks running through my body.
"I'm fine, don't worry. We just had different opinions on a mission." His eyes scanning my heart for the truth. He knew that that was not the whole truth, but he didn't know what was. He didn't know that it was partially about him. He didn't know that my father had inquiries about our relationship, had thoughts about moving Vaughn off my case. I objected and convinced him not to, after hours of pleading and weak justifications, knowing that the only reason to keep him as my handler is the only reason why he would be removed.
He took away his hand from my arm, leaving behind a sudden coldness. He strode over to the table and picked up the box that held my attention the whole time I was there. He gestured for me to take it, a grin beginning to appear on his face, adorned with excitement.
"Here, open this. I saw them and I had to buy them for you. I thought you might need some cheering up. I hope you like them, the color reminded me of when we first met." He laughed at his last thought. My eyes became stern, trying to figure out what was in the box.
I took it from him, our hands slightly touching causing such peace. I opened the box all the while watching his face intently, trying to uncrack the code to his ever growing grin. Lifting the lid, I saw what he had meant by the last comment. Inside, carefully placed, lay a dozen red roses perfectly tied with a tiny gold ribbon keeping them secure, safe. Red roses. I laughed catching onto his idea of a thoughtful joke. I didn't pick them up, or smell them, instead pulled Vaughn into me, catching him off-guard. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I fell into his grasp. He reached his arms around me and I could hear his every breath, soft and soothing. Warmth filled my entire being, running through every limb. After relaxing into the position, he took one hand away and stroked my hair. My head fit perfectly into the cavity underneath his chin. We slowly parted, my eyes tear stained, and I quickly brushed them away, hoping he wouldn't notice them.
"Don't cry, you don't like them?" His eyes suddenly filled with hurt.
"No, oh no. I love them, it is just that they are so beautiful and you.. you .. are so considerate. I love them, thank you." I quickly responded afraid that he thought I had disliked the roses, his eyes lifted upon my reaction. My heart swelled with love for him, pleading to break free. Wiping away more tears of joy, I realized where we were.
"Is there any mission or goings on at CIA?" It took all my energy to turn the conversation around, it broke my heart. His face stared off into my eyes; I saw his heart breaking as well. Neither of us wanted to leave that sweet embrace that broke all the rules, all the lies, all the secrets, and all of our masks hiding the truth of our hearts.
"Um, no. I'm sorry, we're you busy. I just thought you needed some happiness, sorry if I gave you more grief and …"
I stopped him, interrupting his ramblings of fabrications and random thoughts of unhappiness. "No, I'm glad that you called me. I was having a terrible day, and you really helped. Don't be sorry. I appreciate that you thought of me." My eyes glowed, as did his smile.
My loving memory of him, smiling at me, his heart still beating was cut short. Unfinished. I stirred my head, my vision becoming clear again. I saw in my hands a bouquet of flowers that I had chosen and the owner of the store standing in front of me.
"Miss? Excuse me, Miss?" She was tapping me on the shoulder. "Are you going to buy those?"
"Um, yes." My thoughts were scattered again, only concentrating on him waiting for me.
"Are you okay?" She looked at me with such fearful eyes while tapping her heels of her shoes. I wanted to hit her over the head with those shoes.
"Yes, I'm fine. Why?" I was getting quite irritated with her. First she had the nerve to deprive me of my sweet memories and now to question me, a person she didn't know at all. No one knows me.
"It's just that you are crying. Anyway, is that all that you need today? We have a sale on petunias. Buy one, get two for free."
She looked at me, I glared at her. My head throbbing with hurt and a never-ending pain. I touch my face, unaware that I was crying. I frantically wipe the tears away. My eyes glancing about frantically. "No, thanks. That is all."
I paid the lady who stood impatiently waiting the whole time when I studied the flowers with such precision. I walked away half upset from the nerve of that woman and half excited to show him the flowers that I had remembered. To tell him that I didn't forget him, that I could never forget him, never.
With anticipation, I rushed to his home carrying the flowers clutched in my hands. By the time, I reached him; my hands were sweaty and aching. As I rounded over the hills to his grave, I relaxed. The throbbing in my heart subsided in that I will be talking to him shortly. Passing over grave after grave, without any thought of whom they were or what happened to them, I focused on the grave that read: Michael Vaughn. My heart surged forward, crying out for him.
I knelt down, taking away a single hand from the precious flowers and laid it on the top of the statue. I sat in silence thinking of how I should start our conversation today. Should I start out with all the lies and secrets or start with the goings on of my life? I never know how to start talking to him, but once I do, it takes hours for me to stop. The pent up feelings of destruction and rage welled up and poured over my edges. I didn't even have the chance to decide what I would say, when my heart had already made it up for me.
"Sloane talked to me today, and I … I.. lied again." Tears of guilt seep out, watering the grass that blanketed him, keeping him warm. I can't stand to disappoint him; I know he is I can feel it. "I tried to ... to force real meaningful words out of my mouth, but they... they wouldn't come. And, and I couldn't think because he reminded me of that night and I couldn't bare and I kept seeing you and I couldn't breathe and think and I ..." I sank down into nothing, trying to reach down into the ground and pull him out. Tears masking out all sound. "And I couldn't tell him about about you and I just cried and he thought it was because of all the stress of work and I lied, I … I lied about you, again." Looking up the sky, I screamed up the words that I felt at every second of everyday. "I'm sorry."
Crumpling up into a ball, I cried, one hand latched onto the brilliant shade of red and the other resting ever so gently on his home. "I miss you. I miss you. I'm sorry, so sorry. Please forgive me." My words falling on deaf ears.
A faint sound of a distant sob unlike mine emerged from the silence of isolation. My head shot up from the darkness I hid in and searched for the person who kept watching me. I only saw nothing, just bare trees and lonely graves. It was a terrible sound, someone crying but muffled, trying to keep it under control only to make it worse. I kept hearing it, persistently growing smaller and farther away. I silently began to uncrumple and stand, weakly using Vaughn's grave for support. As I began to walk, the flowers that I treasure fell to his grave, leaves dismembered.
Leaving the beloved roses, a dozen of them, lying on his grave, next to my forgotten purse, I follow the sounds of distressed tears. My steps fragile and delicate, hoping that the hidden person would not hear me. Looking behind every tree with double glances, I still saw no one, no cars, no one. The cold breeze swept by face and sent chills down my body; I wrapped my arms around me to keep away the numbness. The cold kept penetrating my defenseless being. Going further in, my pace quickened, afraid that I might be able to find anything.
My heart beating wildly, I could hear it, distinct. The wind didn't stop beating at me, nor did the sound that was stuck in my ears, as if I had trapped it in. After I had gone at least a mile from my comfort, I had broken into a steady run. I only heard two sounds: the sound of my heavy shoes clunking along echoing through the nothingness and the ever-clear sob that never seemed to stop, it was at a whisper blowing in my ear. Tempting me, tricking me. Finally I heard something other than the peculiar sob, a snap of a twig. It echoed and rang furiously through my ears, waking me up. My head spun to the right, where the sound was emitted into the hollowness of the cemetery.
Behind a tall, spindly tree, I saw the person. Draped in a long, black coat, the person stood there staring at me, making sure I didn't see their flustered face. I couldn't move. The cry continued and I just stared, trying to unravel the coat in my mind. Without even noticing, the person had vanished before my ignorant eyes, dimmed by the ever murky glare of tears.
I stayed put for at least an hour of darkness, feeling nothing but the pain shooting through my body from my pounding heart. I didn't sway, I barely breathed. My eyes kept pin pointing the spot where a nameless, faceless person had watched me, just as silent. Wiping away the tears that kept on coming, something I have gotten used to, I began to creep back over the hills of chilly air to retrieve my senses. I wandered back, thinking of nothing, just a speck roaming around letting the wind take where ever it pleases.
The wind guided me back to home, to his home, to my only source of comfort. I picked up the flowers and dusted off the dirt and tears that had stained them. I relayed them on his grave, perfectly in the center, hopefully he would remember them. Reaching for my purse, dirt and tearstained as well, I unsteadily rose and walked out of the cemetery, tattered, confused and reassured. As I reached the steel gate that separated the living and the dead, I looked back at him. The bright red roses glowing amid the dull colors that surrounded it, an indication of love and remembrance.
After a taxi ride of comforting silence, I arrived home. Walking up the path to my real home, a sudden surge of panic was sent through me. I know that when I open that door, Francie will see me, grief-stricken and torn, and I will have to answer a billion questions that I answer everyday. I opened the door warily and saw Francie, as usual waiting for me. She was seated at the couch, in her hand a phone and next to her a clock that read ten o'clock. The numbers blinding my senses, jarring my ability to comprehend. My heart sank and I wanted to run away. I couldn't possibly been gone that long. I glanced out the window and saw nothing but a film of darkness.
"Where have you been?" My mouth agape, she started the usual round of questions.
I didn't answer the question, but instead I changed the subject, hoping she would forget. "Work ran late, sorry. Anyway, what is for dinner I'm starving?" I forced a smile and walked to the kitchen.
"Come on Syd, I'm not stupid. Where have you been?" She stood up and followed me, slamming the cupboard door, which I had opened.
"Work! You have a job that is demanding, you should understand. Now if you don't mind, I am going to find something to eat, since I have been working this whole day!! And maybe you should get a life, instead of waiting around the whole day for me, worrying. I'm fine, no need to worry. I am under control and I don't need you to be checking up on me every second of the day!" I was screaming into her face. I have never screamed at her. Her face immediately shrunk to nothing. "I'm sorry, I've just had a very stressful day." More tears, of the same never ending flow started, muffling my speech. "And .. and I'm sorry and I just need to .." I don't know what I need. My mind searched for something tangible to stop her from questioning me," lie down. I'm sorry."
Putting my hand over the pulsating vein on my head, I walked out of the room leaving a stunned Francie reaching for the phone. As I closed the door carefully, avoiding a loud smack to further hurt my head, I heard her dialing on the phone. I heard her whisper into the receiver. I heard her whisper his name, Mr. Bristow. I heard her tell him that he should talk to me. I could even hear my father driving to my house that very second. I put on my pajamas and waited, knowing that in minutes, he would open the door and ask the same question Francie had. Where have you been?
Rummaging my brain for any excuse as to exclude him form the truth, I sat in silence. I couldn't find anything that seemed right. Then I shifted and started trying to answer the real question. I couldn't. Where had I been? What was I doing? I don't know, I just know I was telling him the truth. I can't tell my father that. I kept searching for another answer, but all I came up with was, I was telling him the truth.
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