Torn
-By Yo-yo
Disclaimer:C chappie #1.
Fireworks:
"This is better than actually being there," a voice whispered in the dark.
She didn't say anything as she watched the starbursts paint the sky. Their fairy lights fell, like the moon's teardrops, enveloping her in a way she never knew possible.
She had a new respect for fireworks.
As a child, they were exciting, unpredictable. They whizzed and ignited in the sky, exploding in the most beautiful displays of light. Their loud booming jolted her juvenile heart, broadening the smile on her face.
Their novelty faded. As she grew older, the spectacular display of human ingenuity had lost its luster. They were all the same, every time mediocre. Every year, the same thing. The monotony consumed her, and the need to see the displays weaned.
But right now the fireworks were awesome. It was the combination of his arm wrapped around her shoulder, sitting atop a blanket on a rooftop garden, eating cheese and drinking cheap wine, watching the Eiffel Tower fireworks with his hand enclosing hers. It was the feeling of adventure, wrapped in the comfort of the night. It was incredible.
Her favorites were the tiny white lights that revealed their attendance by bursting into the sky. They glittered and whizzed around in the sky, mimicking the stars, leaving her in utter awe.
She was bathing in total bliss as the hand she held squeezed hers and the arm around her shoulders pulled her closer.
"You cold?" the voice whispered, she shivered deliciously, loving the feel of him this close to her.
She shook her head and bit her lip, not looking up at him.
She knew what would happen if their eyes connected. She knew that his lips would find hers and she'd completely give herself to him, waving the white flag of surrender as her fingers found their place in his lush hair and his fingertips grazed his skin making her tingle.
She knew what would happen if she let herself fall… and she wasn't going to let it just happen.
She kept her gaze on the Eiffel Tower as she pulled her legs to her chest resting her chin on his knees.
She was a grown up now.
She had to take responsibility for what she was doing. Her decisions now meant something and how she made those decisions also meant something. She wasn't a kid anymore… she had to stop thinking like a naïve kid.
She turned her head and there she sat, his eyes twinkling and widening with each burst of light to illuminate the sky. His lips were slightly opened and turned up in a smile. He was a grown up too.
She didn't think as her free hand reached up and touched his cheek. When his eyes met hers, she could see the confusion mixed with astonishment settle in their depths. Yet she didn't acknowledge them as she followed the contours of his cheekbone with the tips of her fingers. She closed her eyes and tried to remember the way he felt, it was as if she were reading brail. Her fingers grazed over the tiny prickly hairs of his cheeks, over his strong jawbone, and caressed his soft lips. It wasn't until she felt his breath utter her name that she opened her eyes and found him so very close to her.
Cough, cough
The spell was broken and she looked away. Rouge drowned her face as she stared straight ahead, bringing both her hands to wrap themselves around her.
She shouldn't have done that… she wasn't that grown up.
Cough, cough
"Jan, are you okay?" she didn't turn to look at him.
"Are you cold?" he asked, going to the aging man.
"I'm sure you are, let's get you back inside." He helped Jan up.
He was still upset with her. In fact, he hadn't spoken to her since the day he stormed out of the apartment. Tristan mistook his silence for a sign that his Grandfather was ill and had been spending his time doting over him. In fact, Janlen was the reason for her momentary insanity. If it weren't for the fact that Jan had wanted to stay in for Independence Day, she wouldn't have been put in this predicament. Tristan was so concerned for Jan that he coaxed him into spending the holiday upstairs. Instead of being with the masses on the lawn of the Eiffel Tower, Rory, Tristan, Janlen and a few of their neighbors opted for prime seating atop their building.
She still hadn't figured out what was bothering him, but her mind was on other things right now. Like why every time there were fireworks, she and Tristan seemed ready to kiss.
"Hey, are you ready to head in?" Tristan asked, returning to his seat beside her.
She shook her head. "You go in, I'm going to stay out a bit longer… but I'll be fine."
He shook his head. "Nuh, uh, I'm staying with you."
He placed a kiss to her temple and returned his eyes to the flashing lights.
Her eyes perused the blueprint in front of her trying to understand the intersecting lines and curved edges. The first floor excited her, all the possibilities laid out before her eyes, and so many people with the heart to accomplish it. But she had no idea what they had in store for the building because she could not decipher the plans.
"…So they're going to place the- next to the- why exactly?"
Joseph chuckled slightly at her contorted face. He moved his seat closer to hers and leaned closer.
"You know, Lorelei, you're quite useless in these situations."
She frowned slightly, "Well thanks, I had no idea."
"Non," he grinned, "I didn't mean to upset you; I was trying to poke fun at you."
"I know, but we've been staring at these blueprints all day, and I have yet to understand half of what we've been going over. I'm sorry that I didn't take architecture in school, but my stick figures look ambiguous, how in the hell am I supposed to construct a house? I just don't get this." She stared at the prints and bit on her thumb.
"You're very sensitive right now," he rubbed her back, slowly. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, just frustrated," she sighed, "Do you want to eat now, maybe a break will help?"
"That'll be good, do you want to eat in or go out?"
"I think in will be best…"
"How about we spend a few more minutes going over this? Then we'll order."
She rolled her eyes and stretched. Rolling back her shoulders she stretched her neck and sighed, "Let's go."
"Well…?" Joseph began but was interrupted by a knock.
"Lorelei," M. Duval tucked his head inside the door. "I was wondering do you have the files on the Dubai story?"
"Eh oui," she faked a grin, and Joseph took his hand from her. "It's at my desk, do you need it now?"
"Oui," he checked his watch. "Why don't you two take a break and you can hand me the files on your way to lunch?"
"We're eating lunch in," Joseph turned to Rory. "Don't worry; I'll just look around for those damn files I lost."
"You should," she grinned standing up from her seat.
M. Duval left them as she began to gather files.
"What do you want for lunch?"
"Uh, what's on the menu?"
"Salads, sandwiches, soups, pastas…anything you could think of."
"Chicken Marsala?"
"I think they have it?"
"I'll be back," she nodded, pushing the door open.
Today had been a grueling day. After throwing up after Rory's shower Lane ran back into her room crying. When Rory asked her what was wrong, she wouldn't respond. Janlen still wasn't talking to her and had given her the cold shoulder when she ran into his apartment this morning looking for Tristan. And now she couldn't even understand her job.
What she needed now was something warm to wrap herself in. She needed a bath. She needed a warm cup of coffee. She needed a blanket. She needed her fire. She needed Mocha. She needed her bed. She needed something...she needed some-
She shook her head just a bit and was just about to enter her cubicle when she ran into a chest.
"Pardon," she apologized, falling to her knees to gather the fallen files.
Damn, she thought to herself, now on top of it all, I have to re-file everything.
"I'm sorry, Mary."
She looked up in disbelief and a tear spilled from her eye.
"Tristan, man, what are you doing here?"
He'd never visited her at work before. He'd insisted that he didn't want to be in a newsroom. He didn't want the reporters to hound him.
"I came to find you to eat lunch with me," he stroked the tear away. "Ça va?"
"Rien de," she shook her head and smiled.
"Then why are you crying," he asked softly.
"No crying, a tear."
"Itlooks like a sad tear," he brushed it away.
"It's just the tiniest bout of ennui," she shrugged.
"Do you want me to make you laugh? That clears up my ennui sometimes."
"Sure," she shrugged, not looking away.
"So there's a blonde and a brunette sitting next to one another on a train. The blonde says to the brunette, 'Where are you from?' The brunette says, 'A place that doesn't end a sentence with a preposition. So the blonde thinks for a moment then turns back to the brunette and says, 'So, where are you from, Bitch!'"
Another tear dropped from her eye.
"Ok, that didn't help, let me try something else."
He helped her stand up after they finished picking up the files. She pushed her hair from her face, giving a watery smile.
Before he could think up anything he whistled,
"I've never seen this outfit before, is it new?"
She nodded, pulling on her blouse.
"You should wear it more often," he appraised her. His eyes thoroughly devouring her outfit, "When we start dating, make sure you wear that outfit to bed. You look absolutely delicious."
"That's 'cause you're hungry."
"C'meer," he grabbed her and pulled her into a hug. "Don't worry. Maybe you just need a day off?"
"No, I just got back from vacation." She held on to him.
"Ok, maybe a weekend," he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "But seriously, for our hot and heavy weekend, I want you to wear this outfit. I'll be the naughty school boy who accidentally stole a book, and you're the librarian with no morals and a ruler."
Her body shook with silent chuckles, and he grinned.
"By Jove, I've done it!"
"So, you like role playing?" She pulled away from him and wiped away her tears.
"Just as long as my role requires studying under or on top of Librarian Gilmore."
"You need to get laid," she grinned.
"Are you offering?"
"In your dreams."
"Every night, so are you ready for lunch or do you just want to skip the meal and go straight to sex?"
"I can't," she shook her head. "I'm eating in with one of my colleagues."
"C'mon Miss Gilmore, there's sex and salad involved...and I promise to steal another book."
"I'm sorry," she laughed, "I wish I could, but we're just working on this- thing I don't understand."
"Yea, whatever," he frowned, putting the files on her desk. "I'll see you later, we'll have dinner?"
"At my place?" she nodded.
"Yea, Chinese or Italian?"
"How 'bout American? I feel like having you on my plate."
"That's cool, you provide the whip cream, I'll bring the hot body." He chuckled pressing a kiss to her forehead before turning to leave. "Bye."
"See ya." She watched him go.
"Lorelei, the files," M. Duval called from the intercom.
"Pardon," she called, finding it on top of the file cabinet.
When she walked back into the meeting room Joseph stood up as she closed the door.
"I hear the American came in to see you?"
"God, you did?" she laughed, thinking about their sexually laced conversation and growing red.
"It's all around the office. I saw him hug you. Est-ce qu'il est votre petit ami?"
"Non, il est mon ami."
She didn't catch the look of relief on his face.
"Laney, I brought you some soup," Rory called as she entered the apartment.
Mocha bounded around her legs, barking loudly as she closed the door.
"Hey babe, nice to see you too," she put the brown paper bag on the counter. "Have you been fed yet?"
"Yea," Lane's voice emerged.
Rory looked up and gasped. She looked so pale…almost sick. She wore a heavy wool sweater and her nose and eyes were red and puffy.
"Have you been crying?"
Lane nodded, her mussed hair tumbling over her eyes.
"What's wrong sweetie?" she walked over to her best friend and wrapped her arms around her neck.
She didn't say anything. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a white stick.
"Is this a-?"
Lane nodded in her arms.
"Did you-?"
She nodded again.
"And you put it in your pocket?"
Lane nodded and cried,"Ewww!"
"What did it say?"
"Read it yourself dummy!" Lane laughed through her tears.
She looked down at the white stick and saw-
Fireworks...
TBC…
A/N: Sorry this took so long, but I'm finding it hard to write in college. Well, read and review please. You're really good at giving me ideas. What does Lane's fireworks mean? Read and see.
w/ luv,
Yo-yo