Prelude to a Kiss
Thanks to everyone that reviewed. I really tried on the last chapter, and I hope it was ok ;) I'm not going to do practically every scene of the film, but perhaps certain scenes that I can play with and expand on. And after the end I will devise some kind of partial ending...(partial in leading the way to a TMR sequelette perhaps? hehe)
A/N I do not own neither Rick, Evelyn or Jonathan. And the 'cuddling conditions' reference was inspired by the novel by Max Allan Collins. My french isn't that good, so it's probably wrong... ;) so my apologies in advance. This chapter will be promptly followed by a more pace-setting, plot following chapter!
Now on with the story!
I'm frozen. Even though the red waves of the fire are gently glowing, even the closeness between Evelyn and myself cannot warm me. My once warm blooded veins are surging with an ice cold chill.
Her eyes are piercing me, even though they are soft and inviting, those hazel eyes are about to do something to me that I sense I will not like.
"What are you hiding from? I mean, what are you hiding from yourself?"
That question. No-one has been bothered enough to ask before, but this time I know I can't answer it. If I do, she'll go running and I'll ruin it all.
I watch the flickering flames, and they seem to form my flickering past before my eyes...
Then again, those hazel eyes opened up to me, let me into her mind for a while and let me know of all she's been through.
But she came out stronger for it.
He's not going to answer me. I can tell, but I know he fears confronting all those things he locked away so long ago. His pale blue eyes are slowly intensifying in their grey, and I can't stand it.
What have I done? Me and my big mouth. I've always been hasty to say before I think, whereas my brother could do both and neither.
I watch the fire, careful to avoid his hurt gaze. Careful to avoid making this man hate me, hate me for pouring salt into an obviously open wound.
I've seen him when he fights. He shrugs off his usual persona; His eyes are focused and sharp, he's determined and he's fighting to regain something.
What he longs to regain, I do not know.
But I can see that persona right now. He's fighting himself. I wonder if he's hating me right now, for bringing whatever it is back to his thoughts?
"I was brought up in various orphanages. I didn't know my parents and I don't have any other family that I know of. I've been serving in the French Foreign Legion since I was seventeen, and some how, along the way I ended up back here."
I shrug, as though it doesn't bother me. The weird thing is though, it doesn't. Some people might cry, get all emotional. But I don't. Maybe it's 'cause I don't know what I've lost. I'm past all that now.
I look at her. She doesn't make any short of recognition that I've spoken; she gently toys with the silver trinkets on her belt.
"That must be hard." She answers with benevolence, a stray shaft of moonlight catching her face as she turns towards me. Her eyes are radiating some kind of sadness that I can't place.
"Sometimes." I admit, no longer trying to kid myself.
I cannot help myself. When I am around him I find myself acting peculiar. I was lucky enough to know my parents, whereas he's had nobody through out his life.
Whether it's out of instinct or not I don't know, but the way his face is being held breaks my heart. There's a despondency to his eyes that I want to erase.
I lean forward with a sudden urgency and let my lips catch his.
I'm kissing him with all I can muster. I'm trying to get across a prominent feeling;
I may never know what you're actually feeling or whether it's too late to fix. But I'm willing to try.
She caught me off guard, and is kissing me with alleviate intent. I kiss her back, almost drowning in her.
Her skin is so soft, her hair perfumed with her smell- now I'm the one who's intoxicated.
In the deathly silence, all I can hear is my head telling me how much I need her, how lucky I am...
And gradually my feelings are beginning to melt away. I have no past, only here and now.
We find ourselves leaning back, and she's lying in her make-shift bed, with me still half sitting but kissing her all the more.
Her hand reaches up and she runs her fingers slowly through my hair. "Rick..." She whispers.
"Rick..." I whisper gently, feeling completely out of breath. I've never been kissed that way. It was as though we had reached a mutual understanding that I need him, and he needs me, and that kiss proved it. I am engulfed in this mans feelings...
I look up at him.
She's gazing at me with total trust. Her hand is gently putting some distance between us.
"What would Jonathan think if he woke up?" She whispers half amusedly. I grin and sit fully upright.
Her hair is slightly matted from the sand and wind... I smile at her as she gently falls asleep.
"Goodnight Rick..." She tells me, as her eyes slowly close and as she sighs heavily into sleep.
"Goodnight Evy." I say before I can stop myself.
I look up at the sky and watch its magnificent array of stars, glowing with a comparison to the way Evelyns' eyes shone earlier. The moon, full but distant, winking at the city with its distorted heavenly aura.
I glimpse at her, her stunning face smiling in her slumber.
I stay by her side just incase she wakes up with another tormenting dream. I wonder is she's dreaming about me...
Lost in looking at her, I finally remember and notice the embers of the fire fighting to remain aflame.
Too dead beat to re-light it, I lie down next to Evelyn; making sure that both her own and my covers are over her. She sighs in her sleep and I try my hardest not to wake her while I rest my head next to hers.
"Of course you can keep me warm Mister O'Connell..." I hear her mutter, obviously woken up by my sharing her make-shift bed. "Cuddling conditions I presume?" She yawns, turning onto her back so she can look at me next to her.
I chuckle gently. "The fire..." I nod towards it. "Something like that." I reply.
She beams at me sleepily. "Make sure you're gone before Jon wakes up..."
"Alright." I assure her, stifling a yawn.
She's back to breathing rhythmically, and I know she's dead to the world. I let my own eyes close, allowing myself to be led into blissful sleep.
Sleep. What a soundless sleep. I wasn't plagued by dreams or tormenting relentless thoughts. I sigh as I feel the already risen sun's beams catch my face. I bask in it's warmth.
A notice something restricting my movement. I blink in a bid to make my eyesight better, and across my waist there is a large muscular arm...
I'm woken up by her being awake, but I'm still half asleep when I notice her looking at me. The sun is shining relentlessly in my face, and as her lovely face peers at me, it seems to leave a golden halo around her gorgeous tresses.
"Hello." She says huskily, with a slight upbeat to the ending syllable. "How did you end up there?"
And then she flashes me that devilishly charming grin of hers, one that she barely gives but when it's there it's gone quick enough for you to doubt that you actually saw it.
I run a hand uneasily through my hair, and try to give her my best dashing grin. "I was, um, keeping you warm, the fire went out-"
"I thought you were supposed to be gone before my brother woke up?" She questions flirtatiously, but I notice that she still hasn't told me to remove my arm from its protective position across her waist.
"Did you sleep okay?" I ask, changing the subject.
She smiles at me coyly. "Better than I would have done."
And we stay like that for a moment, regarding each other and the blossoming beginnings of something wonderful.
She sighs, almost relucant to have to get up. I watch her tuck her curly hair behind her ears, and attempt to straighten out her creased dress.
"I wish I had some nightwear..." She mumbles in that gorgeous accent of hers.
"Yeah, pity about the barge." I agree, forcing myself to get up.
The warm air almost knocks me over; but that's what happens when you become used to the cold night air, that's also why I don't usually stay awake during the night.
Even in the legion, I'd try and sleep as best I could in the night. That is if the bastards weren't making us trek to the middle of nowhere.
I have to admit, that I was pretty damn- unbelieving? yeah, doubtful to say the least when the general told us that he had a map to Hamunaptra. I remember what he said very well, and also what I said in return...
"Stupid fils de garce! Ce n'pas possible trouver Hamunaptra!"
I chuckle to myself, remembering...
Almost on cue, her brother wakes up. I notice that Evelyn jumps when he greets us cheerily, obviously none the wiser about our sleeping arrangements-
"Morning Evy old girl! Up already O'Connell?" He beams as he sits up and stretches. He's a sight- his hair is all over the place!
Evelyn shakes her head. "Good morning Jon." She manages a small smile.
"Where's your hangover?" I taunt as I kick more sand over the long dead fire.
"I hope that foul language wasn't aimed at me old boy!" He smirks, chipper.
"Oh, he's lucky enough not to get them now and again. Just as well, as we've got a busy day ahead of us." Informs Evelyn, raising an eyebrow.
When we both remain there, dithering. I notice Jonathan swaying with sleep as he grins at her becoming irritated.
"Come on you two!" She demands, hands on hips like an eager child at Christmas. "Move yourselves!"
Jonathan looks at her sleepily, obviously not registering what she has asked him to do. "What? What in-"
His next words are not the best he could have used in front of his sister. I chuckle. "Jonathan Carnahan! Your language is appalling! And you call yourself an Englishman!"
At that, her gaze quickly flickers to me, and in a shot away again. Jonathan laughs off her scoffing, and pulls himself up. "I'm just off to, what's the phrase? Write my name in the sand!"
I laugh, but hear Evelyn's shrill announcement of- "I really didn't wish to know that!"
She's wandered off, no doubt planning what we're gunna do today. I smile to myself at her determination.
Chapter four is almost finished, so please Read & Review if you'd like to see it!
oh, and those who do review are not going unnoticed! merci to you all!