Show: General Hospital
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos II: Chapter 6
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A/N: I must first apologize for the delay. I wanted to get this chapter out since last week, but I was
very busy packing. You see, I left the country not too long ago and I didn't have access to the
Internet, so this is the first opportunity I've had to write in almost 2 weeks. I apologise once more
and thank you for bearing with me.
*~*~*~*~*~*
New York City, the next day.
Somehow, Elizabeth found herself flat on her back on the hardwood floor staring out at the
brilliant blue above the famous New York skyline. Fat, fluffy white clouds lazily floated high above
and she could see a few fat birds free-wheeling on the wind. The glare of the sun caused her to
blink rapidly in an effort to adjust to the brightness.
Doggedly, Liz pushed herself up on her elbows and looked at the beauty than surrounded her.
She slowly made her way to her knees and gingerly stood up. Her knees almost buckled beneath
her – they had been out of use for so long – and she just barely caught her balance on one of the
filmy yellow curtains at the huge glass windows.
She paused, giving her body time to adjust to the nauseous feeling of standing upright. Slowly, as
if in a trance, she swept her gaze across the gigantic room that served as a living room/dining-
room/studio before cornering off to a small yet fully stocked kitchen. The hardwood floor was
carpet free, furniture limited to a comfortable futon and overstuffed couch in burgundy upholstery,
a television and DVD/Video player in one corner, a pine elliptical dining table and matching chairs
in the middle and, taking up most of the space in another corner by the huge wall of glass were
numerous canvases in numerous stages of completion– some blank, others half-finished. The
plain cream walls were covered with paintings. Canvases of all sizes ablaze with vivid colours like
electric blue and lime green, or soft, cool, swirling pastels, or dark brooding greys and black. This
was Elizabeth's art. Her sanctuary, her peace, her savior.
She absentmindedly walked through the canvases, trailing her fingertips lightly over cans and
tubes of paints, enjoying the slight tingle of her fingers as the swept over the bristles of her
brushes, the slight sting as she trailed her index finger over the sharp point of a paint knife. She
didn't know where she was heading, but subconsciously, she found her feet pointing in the
direction of the second large window in the corner. There stood a painting away from the others,
in a position of glory on its own special easel.
The Wind. She felt her heart squeeze as she stared at the painting she had made for Jason. The
painting she had helped him to 'see', to appreciate the swirling colours on the rough canvas. A
lone tear tracked its way down her cheek but she brushed it away and smiled wanly as she
reached out and trailed her fingers along the slight humps and ridges the thick paint made on the
canvas. It sent a shock clear down to her soul and, just looking at it and touching it, sent strength
barreling through every vein and bone in her body. She stood up straighter as she continued to
stare.
The Wind gave her strength, gave her hope, and gave her peace, just like Jason had so long ago.
And although she might never have him, she would always have The Wind and for that she was
eternally grateful.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Port Charles, midnight.
After his customary late night pit stop at Kristina's bedroom, Sonny tiptoed his way into his
bedroom. He had been expecting to find Alexis fast asleep on her side of the bed but, as he
made his way quietly to his closet to hang up his pants and jacket, the bedside light snapped on,
bathing the opulent bedroom with golden light and causing Alexis's shadow to flit against the wall.
He spoke first. "Hey. I thought you were asleep."
Alexis smiled and cocked her head on the side as she looked at him. "I wanted to wait up for
you," she replied softly.
"Really?" he asked, dimples ablaze as he chucked off his jacket and kicked off his shoes.
"Yes, really." Slowly, she pulled the midnight blue silk sheets away from her body and rose up
onto her knees in the bed.
Sonny stared in pleasant astonishment. All she was clad in was sheer skin-colored negligee.
Sonny's breath left him sharply. "Is that all for me, Counselor?" he asked as he hurriedly
unbuttoned his shirt.
Alexis nodded, her own dimple peeking out at him. She crooked her finger. "Come and get it," she
purred.
She squealed as Sonny pounced on her.
*~*~*~*~*~*
New York City, same time.
The chords of Linkin Park's Faint blared in the studio apartment as, light all ablaze, Liz cocked a
critical eye at her latest creation. Blue. That was how she felt, that was what she identified with.
Blue for the endless sky above the countless buildings; blue, the sea that surrounded the island
her father had taken her to as a child; blue for how she felt inside for so long; blue, the colour of
his lips the first time she found Him in the snow so long ago – Him meaning Jason of course;
blue, the colour of his eyes when she stared at her – clear, fathomless, intense, looking straight to
her soul. Just thinking about them made the butterflies flutter in her stomach.
She didn't know what compelled her to paint in varying shades of blue, but she found her brush
sweeping across the canvas, blending, swirling, juxtaposing each shade until they melded
continuously. She didn't understand it – didn't think anybody would be able to understand it. She
couldn't 'see' anything particular in the painting. But for once, there was no one around that she
had to explain it to, or feel the urge to explain it to. She was alone. But strangely enough, also for
the first time, that realization didn't make her want to fall to her knees and weep. No, for the first
time, solitude meant a chance at happiness.
TBC…
A/N: Well she's coming outta the hole. Please R&R and tell me what you thought. Ciao for now.
Cara
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos II: Chapter 6
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A/N: I must first apologize for the delay. I wanted to get this chapter out since last week, but I was
very busy packing. You see, I left the country not too long ago and I didn't have access to the
Internet, so this is the first opportunity I've had to write in almost 2 weeks. I apologise once more
and thank you for bearing with me.
*~*~*~*~*~*
New York City, the next day.
Somehow, Elizabeth found herself flat on her back on the hardwood floor staring out at the
brilliant blue above the famous New York skyline. Fat, fluffy white clouds lazily floated high above
and she could see a few fat birds free-wheeling on the wind. The glare of the sun caused her to
blink rapidly in an effort to adjust to the brightness.
Doggedly, Liz pushed herself up on her elbows and looked at the beauty than surrounded her.
She slowly made her way to her knees and gingerly stood up. Her knees almost buckled beneath
her – they had been out of use for so long – and she just barely caught her balance on one of the
filmy yellow curtains at the huge glass windows.
She paused, giving her body time to adjust to the nauseous feeling of standing upright. Slowly, as
if in a trance, she swept her gaze across the gigantic room that served as a living room/dining-
room/studio before cornering off to a small yet fully stocked kitchen. The hardwood floor was
carpet free, furniture limited to a comfortable futon and overstuffed couch in burgundy upholstery,
a television and DVD/Video player in one corner, a pine elliptical dining table and matching chairs
in the middle and, taking up most of the space in another corner by the huge wall of glass were
numerous canvases in numerous stages of completion– some blank, others half-finished. The
plain cream walls were covered with paintings. Canvases of all sizes ablaze with vivid colours like
electric blue and lime green, or soft, cool, swirling pastels, or dark brooding greys and black. This
was Elizabeth's art. Her sanctuary, her peace, her savior.
She absentmindedly walked through the canvases, trailing her fingertips lightly over cans and
tubes of paints, enjoying the slight tingle of her fingers as the swept over the bristles of her
brushes, the slight sting as she trailed her index finger over the sharp point of a paint knife. She
didn't know where she was heading, but subconsciously, she found her feet pointing in the
direction of the second large window in the corner. There stood a painting away from the others,
in a position of glory on its own special easel.
The Wind. She felt her heart squeeze as she stared at the painting she had made for Jason. The
painting she had helped him to 'see', to appreciate the swirling colours on the rough canvas. A
lone tear tracked its way down her cheek but she brushed it away and smiled wanly as she
reached out and trailed her fingers along the slight humps and ridges the thick paint made on the
canvas. It sent a shock clear down to her soul and, just looking at it and touching it, sent strength
barreling through every vein and bone in her body. She stood up straighter as she continued to
stare.
The Wind gave her strength, gave her hope, and gave her peace, just like Jason had so long ago.
And although she might never have him, she would always have The Wind and for that she was
eternally grateful.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Port Charles, midnight.
After his customary late night pit stop at Kristina's bedroom, Sonny tiptoed his way into his
bedroom. He had been expecting to find Alexis fast asleep on her side of the bed but, as he
made his way quietly to his closet to hang up his pants and jacket, the bedside light snapped on,
bathing the opulent bedroom with golden light and causing Alexis's shadow to flit against the wall.
He spoke first. "Hey. I thought you were asleep."
Alexis smiled and cocked her head on the side as she looked at him. "I wanted to wait up for
you," she replied softly.
"Really?" he asked, dimples ablaze as he chucked off his jacket and kicked off his shoes.
"Yes, really." Slowly, she pulled the midnight blue silk sheets away from her body and rose up
onto her knees in the bed.
Sonny stared in pleasant astonishment. All she was clad in was sheer skin-colored negligee.
Sonny's breath left him sharply. "Is that all for me, Counselor?" he asked as he hurriedly
unbuttoned his shirt.
Alexis nodded, her own dimple peeking out at him. She crooked her finger. "Come and get it," she
purred.
She squealed as Sonny pounced on her.
*~*~*~*~*~*
New York City, same time.
The chords of Linkin Park's Faint blared in the studio apartment as, light all ablaze, Liz cocked a
critical eye at her latest creation. Blue. That was how she felt, that was what she identified with.
Blue for the endless sky above the countless buildings; blue, the sea that surrounded the island
her father had taken her to as a child; blue for how she felt inside for so long; blue, the colour of
his lips the first time she found Him in the snow so long ago – Him meaning Jason of course;
blue, the colour of his eyes when she stared at her – clear, fathomless, intense, looking straight to
her soul. Just thinking about them made the butterflies flutter in her stomach.
She didn't know what compelled her to paint in varying shades of blue, but she found her brush
sweeping across the canvas, blending, swirling, juxtaposing each shade until they melded
continuously. She didn't understand it – didn't think anybody would be able to understand it. She
couldn't 'see' anything particular in the painting. But for once, there was no one around that she
had to explain it to, or feel the urge to explain it to. She was alone. But strangely enough, also for
the first time, that realization didn't make her want to fall to her knees and weep. No, for the first
time, solitude meant a chance at happiness.
TBC…
A/N: Well she's coming outta the hole. Please R&R and tell me what you thought. Ciao for now.
Cara
