S2 E7 – Soft Pleadings in the Night #2

Part 1 of 3

Him

She lays down at last. Finally! Those mesmerizing eyes are closed and his pulse can start to slow down. He blindly reaches out and hefts a book, opens it, holds it up, but his mind isn't on the book. His mind continues to whirl with supposition, questions, and uncertainty. What in the world has just happened here? We'd just been talking… quietly and calmly… and then… then somehow the conversation had become something else. Something personal. Something trusting. Something intimate.

And his tongue tangled and his nerves jangled and he'd faltered. He'd faltered and fails once more to give whatever it is she seeks. She'd waited. He saw her waiting - for something he didn't know how to give. He also saw the disappointment in her eyes as she'd turned away.

Now she is lying down, sinking into sleep, and his pulse is calmer, and now he can think of things to say but it's too late. Too late once more. He is always too late.

He casts one last longing look over his shoulder to her profile so perfect on the pillow behind him, sighs in suppressed pain and almost… ALMOST… puts the book down… but…but… that way leads to madness! He shakes his head to rattle his brains back into civility and turns back to the calming effect of the printed word; his solace, his refuge, his tried and true cowardly escape.

Her

She lies quietly, trying to slow her racing heart and fight back painful tears. This was supposed to be the night! I planned everything so carefully! I finally worked up the nerve to ask him to stay at mine during the storm. My place is stocked with fresh breads and cheeses and fruits and wines and even his favourite tea… and now it is all going to waste! He refused my bravely casual offer out of hand with not even a 'sorry' or 'thanks for offering but', just a flat polite 'no'. 'No' - tossed like a grenade right into my heart! He wasn't even gentleman enough to pretend he'd been tempted.

She takes a deep shuddery breath. Well, it serves me right! Why do I persist in this mad quest to win his heart? He doesn't HAVE a heart! All my earnest attempts to get his attention… ignored. All my flirty attempts to get his attention… ignored. Every single thing I've tried with growing desperation and disbelief… ignored! Ignored and overlooked and taken for granted - that's how I feel. I'm just a piece of furniture to him!

She fumes, punching her pillow with a sudden fist. She doesn't see him flinch and almost drop the book behind her.

Him again

He watches her out of the corner of his eye. Something isn't right - but what? He hears her quickened breathing, her tiny shifting movements. Everything points to her being upset and I'm the only reason I can think of for her being upset… not that I think I'm so terribly important in her life but… whenever she's upset I'M usually the reason. He sighs. I really wish I understood her.

Her again

She grinds a cheek into her pillow, anger boiling. Clacton?! What the hell is a Clacton? It's in England, right? Why would I go to England? To follow him? How dare he! I don't follow a man ANY where! Men follow ME! Men have suffered for ME! I've NEVER… but now she gives a tiny sob, smothering it into her pillow because now she IS suffering, suffering horribly, and she doesn't know what to do.

For the first time in my life, I'm baffled and clueless over a man. A man! A mere man has thwarted me completely! She closes her eyes in sorrow and bows to the inevitable after-thought. But what a man! He isn't 'mere'. He's everything! He's all I want - and now I have to accept that I'll never have him. He isn't interested and I'm just making myself ridiculous. I need to get to sleep, get through this awful night, and start fresh in the morning. Yes, a new and improved Camille Bordey will open her eyes tomorrow and get on with her life, she assures herself bravely – before a tiny voice whispers in her mind, Yes, a life without your man-heaven. Won't that be nice, Miss New-and-Improved? You coward.

She feels the on-rush of hot tears and wo-manfully tries to swallow them soundlessly lest he hear her and gloat! Never let a man really know how you feel about him. He will make your life a living hell.

Him once more

He is almost convinced that she is asleep. He does hear her muffled sounds and thinks maybe she is having a bad dream about the howling storm outside - when her tiny sob blasts through his calm façade like napalm. The book is dropped and he turns to lay a hand on her arm, not even thinking about what he can possibly say to redeem his inexcusable intrusion on her personal privacy, "Camille? What's wrong? Are you all right?" he whispers through stiff lips.

At first, he thinks he has made a bad mistake. She isn't dreaming. She hasn't made that heart-rending little sound. I'm mistaken. I'm reading something into nothing. I've let my own fears and misgivings and desires fool me into hoping… fool me into thinking… fool me…

As she stiffens under his hand, he realizes that he IS a fool, a hopeless silly heart-sick fool and now he's gotten himself into trouble. How will I talk myself out of THIS faux pas? His hand flies off her arm and he whirls around to face away once more. His guilty hand covers his mouth as his eyes dart helplessly about looking for something – anything! - that will save him. She is going to chew me out and I bloody well deserve it! Fool. Rhymes with Poole. He waits in dreadful anticipation.

Her in surprise

She doesn't make a sound. She lies frozen. When his hand had landed on her arm his body heat had sunk into her bones, gooseflesh had run riot over her body, and her breath had stopped in her throat! Just the merest touch of his hand! She squeezes her eyes closed in agony. Oh! Yes! I know why I persist in my foolish quest for his heart. He thrills me, he absolutely thrills me, and I am helpless to resist.

Just as she is thinking that she will most gratefully follow him ANY where, his hand is snatched back and she is alone in the world once more. The pain is unendurable. She snaps up into a sitting position just in time to meet his back. He's turned away. Again. He is motionless. She waits in anticipated dread.

Him in fear

He knows he has to say something. Anything. He can't let her think that he touched her without thought… even though he had. He clears his throat and makes an attempt over his shoulder, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I thought I heard you cry out. This storm, it's enough to give anyone nightmares, isn't it?"

There. That sounds rational. Please, let her believe me once more and let it go. He picks up his book once more, swallowing the words that clog his throat.

Her in sorrow

She is heart-broken. He's just being polite… being the boss… he doesn't really…

Then she sees the book. It is upside down. Her head cocks to one side all on its own, her innate detection skills roaring to the fore, not to mention her feminine wiles. What? What does it mean? The book is upside down. So what? Well, it means he isn't really reading it, right? Which means he's faking… but why? Could HE be the scared one? Maybe he needs reassurance and comforting over the storm? Why do men have to be such babies about admitting to being nervous?

She stretches out a hesitant hand and almost doesn't do it. But she does. She lays the hand on his shoulder. She lays a hand on his shoulder and feels the shock of it bolt through his body like pure pain!

He hisses and hunches forward, pulling away from her touch completely, dropping the book yet again.

She gasps in pain herself. She's never been so thoroughly rejected like this! Never! She pulls her hand away and whispers, "All right. I'm sorry. I get the message. I'll go… I'll go sleep in the other room," and she begins to fumble to her feet, dropping her pillow while doing so.

When he whips around and fixes her with tormented eyes, she freezes anew. He doesn't look angry. He doesn't even look upset. He looks tortured. She can't meet his gaze. Her eyes drop in defeat. Oh, lord, how wrong could I be? About him… about me… about everything? She can't help it, the tears escape and she turns her face away to hide them.

Him in agony

He is stunned. I don't understand ANY thing that's happening! Her hand on my shoulder… the hot bliss that shot though me actually hurt! Now she's pulling away, says she will go to the other room. I don't WANT her to go to the other room! I want her right here! With me. Here in this beautiful little bower that she built for the two of us, the bower that I should have built and the bower where I should be wooing her right now! Her silent tears are shredding my heart. What is going on? What is she doing… trying to kill me? I don't know what to do… what to say… I NEVER know what to say! Something important… maybe life-changing… is happening right here, right now, and I don't know what to do!

He feels his entire future arrowing down to a pinpoint of unbearable import. Her eyes are bright with tears and she is looking at him with such pain. He swallows his fear and does the only thing he can think to do. His hand shoots out and grasps her arm to keep her with him.

Together

They lock eyes and only the storm is heard – the storm and their drumming hearts.

The silence is broken by two low voices speaking at the same moment…

… "Don't go/What's wrong?"

They both hear the unspoken longing. They both hesitate. They both wonder, hardly daring to hope.

END – part 1