Reality rushes back into this crazy world that I had mistaken for the real one. I sit on the cold leather of the couch in the break room. The walls of glass reflect the last of the remaining light of the day into the room. It holds its own beauty in the way that it hangs in the air unsuspended and unstoppable until night comes.
The rest of the team walks into the room talking about a recently re-opened case. They sit down at the break room table and yet the couch bows as someone sits beside me, I don't even have to look as I can smell my shampoo in his hair. He puts his hand on my knee and squeezes it lightly, and I blush remembering the night before.
Looking towards us, the rest of the team wants to know if we've noticed anything different. We both answer with a nod of our heads, and look down at the manila folders that lay untouched upon our laps.
It's funny how they don't see it. How they're criminalists and are paid to follow the evidence and such but they cannot see the looks between us. The simple touches, the things that weren't there before. I guess sometimes we cannot see what is right in front of us.
As everyone else files out of the break room to go home at the end of shift, he takes my hand and holds it. We walk out behind the rest of the group and head towards the car. As he helps me into the passenger's seat, I wonder if anyone can see us when he kisses me lightly on the cheek. And as he shuts the car door I find myself not caring what they do or do not see, because when he climbs into the car and starts the ignition, I can see everything I could have ever wanted. And what I see, what I feel is what matters in the end.
We drive off into the sunset, and I stick my arm out the window letting it flow in the wind. And I realize that I have never felt this alive. This complete, this whole. As the new day begins and the new light streams into the car and onto my exposed arm, I wonder if angels had been watching over us. I wonder if all of the nightmares of our lives had to have happened to have brought us so close together, crashing like the waves of the ocean.
I'm the flower that bloomed months before spring. And I have waited all of my life for it to have finally happened.
A/N: Thank you so much for readingmy story "Like A Flower". And thank you so much for all of your wonderful reviews. Please tell me what you thought in a finale review. :smiles:
Sounds of Silence