Title: Soundless
Disclaimer: He's all Abby's.
When Abby first shook my hand as a nervous med student, I thought she was sweet.
When she kissed me in the ambulance bay and smiled, I noticed that she was actually very pretty, and there was something... something else.
But when I first saw Abby she had my name on her lips, and I had a man's life in my hands. It was then that I knew she was beautiful. That hasn't changed.
Back then, though, I was looking for something, and it wasn't those dark eyes drilling holes into me, enticing, challenging, terrifying me with what I did not want to see. It wasn't the feeling of looking straight through her and into myself.
All of that was right– I knew this from the very beginning when I wished so badly to close what she had opened, to run away and leave her, as beautiful as she was, to be washed over once again by anonymity. I knew that that would never happen because nothing had ever been so right– but it was entirely the wrong time.
I realized too late that the tension in which I had suspended myself between love and suspicion, attraction and resistance, had become an unnecessary habit, and I no longer felt that unnamable threat, only the fascination– the almost irresistible pull to her and whatever it was in her that suddenly made me myself.
I needed her, I realized, and all at once she was someone else's. The sex, the car, the booze that followed– they weren't the products of some depressive binge, not to me. It's just that the time was right for me, and those were all entirely the wrong things.
She's beautiful now with snowflakes clinging lightly to loose strands of her hair, those same dark eyes drilling holes into me, and I'm no longer looking through her, but at her, and what I see is terror, excitement, anticipation, and longing. The corners of her mouth twitch slightly, and I'm not sure if it's nervousness or the beginnings of a smile, but I suddenly need to touch her– to be as close as possible and not let go until she knows I see it, and that I feel it all too.
This is unexpected.
This is too rushed; it's frightening, overwhelming, and wonderful.
This, I think, is perfect.