As always, I don't own any of the characters from LO:CI - just having some fun with them. No harm intended.
This is a sequel of sorts and picks up directly after the events of "Straight From Your Heart" also hosted here at .
Chapter 1
Hope Quinn Thornton woke slowly, allowing the heaviness of sleep to ease before opening her eyes. Tightening her arms around the pillow she held, she stretched, feeling the pull on her muscles, the lengthening of her ligaments. Releasing the stretch, she finally felt awake enough to open her eyes. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was still early, only 7 o'clock. Stretching again her gaze landed on the photo next to the clock and smiled.
She had been greeted each morning by the smiling faces in that photo for over three years now. Today she wasn't struck by the usual sadness that descended at not recognizing a single face in that photo save her own. She had made a connection with someone. I was new, it was exciting and scary, and it was real. As she stared out the window from her bed, wondering what he was thinking about the what had been transpired over the last few months, Hope realized she had actually turned that corner almost a year ago. Hope had begun to return her journey back. Every day since had slowly gotten better. Days didn't drag on endlessly, color, scent, and light slowly returned as hope returned.
Hope's return began innocently enough. She had noticed him. It had taken her awhile to realize that what she noticed was the change in the man. She was very surprised to discover that on some level that she must have noticed him before. Over the next several days she had taken to looking for him. Waiting for him. Watching for him. It didn't take long to recognize the look he wore; she had seen the same look reflected back at her as she brushed her teeth every morning and every night. It was the torn, bruised and battered look of survival, of stumbling through long, endless days, and longer, more endless nights.
She found herself watching for him as she left and came home from work, often going days without seeing him, her anxiety slowly increasing until finally she did see him again. she took leaving her apartment early most mornings to wait outside until he would leave his own building across the narrow courtyard and walk off in the direction of the subway. Once she saw him off and on his way, she would join the flow of people heading uptown.
It was as the fall turned to winter and the winter yielded to spring, and his burdens seemed heavier upon him, that she began to notice other things about him. His eyes, his lips, his hands and she wondered what it would be like to gaze up into those eyes, to trace the outline of those lips, to entwine her fingers within his. This man she had only seen from a distance. This man she had neither spoken with nor met.
A week later, she began the first letter. 'How do I say this... Words are difficult sometimes, hard to express what you truly feel…'
Weeks later, she saw him returning to the building and without thinking, she fell into step behind him and followed him into the elevator. Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears, she was surprised that the others in the car weren't staring at her. But no one noticed her or paid any attention to the percussive pounding, not even him.
He exited on the car on the eighth floor; she got off on the ninth and ran down the fire exit stairs to the lower floor. She didn't see him, but she heard a door slam closed down the hall. Slowly she walked down the hallway to stand in front of the door she thought had closed. Pressing her palm against it, she leaned closer until she could hear the muffled sounds of keys and other items landing on a counter or table. This had to be his apartment. No one else had gotten off the elevator.
She returned three days later to leave that first letter, the letter that had taken her days to write and weeks to deliver. Once again as she walked down the hallway her stomach did somersaults. Stopping outside the door she knew was his; she kneeled and extended a shaking hand towards the gap at the bottom of the door. Slowly she slid the envelope as far under the door as she could. Pulling her arm back, she raised her fingers to her lips to still their shaking. Staring at the small corner of white paper visible from the doorway she almost reached out to grab it back, but quickly stood and raced back down the hallway to the elevator, before she could change her mind.
That evening she watched from her window, waiting for the lights to come on in his apartment. She watched as he poured his drink, she watched as he stood at the breakfast bar and removed a takeout container from a bag. She watched as he sorted through his mail, tossing all aside except for one – it had to be hers, the envelope she had pushed through the door. She watched as he opened the envelope, she watched as he flattened out the sheet of paper and read the letter. She watched as he raised his head and looked around his apartment. She watched as he read the letter again. Sitting in her darkened apartment, she drew in a fresh breath of air, one that felt like the first in a very long time as s smile briefly play across her lips behind her fingertips. It was unlike any smile in a very long time. If she'd had to categorize it, she realized now that it had been one filled with hope.
Then there was last night…
Bobby Goren awoke alone in his bed. But for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel quite so alone. His anonymous letter writer was no longer anonymous. After weeks of questions, he finally had some answers. He had an address, he had a name, he had a face, he had a voice. He had even met her last night.
Why do I scare you so much?" he asked quietly as he stepped to the side and allowed her both some room to breath and some room to close the door.
"You don't. This does." She answered, her eyes still looking at the carpet.
"Don't you think this scares me too? But your letters… they meant something." He bent down to get her attention and as he straightened to his full height, he drew her gaze with him. "There hasn't been" – he looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath before continuing, "There hasn't been much for me to look forward to, to anticipate."
As his voice choked, she had looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, "You gave me hope." As he looked down at her with his own tear- filled eyes – a single tear slipped slowly over the rim and slid slowly down his cheek. She stepped forward and reached up to gently swipe the track of its path. His hand reached up for hers and held it in place as he took a shuddering breath. Dropping her hand from his face, she wrapped both arms around him and as he slowly and tentatively he brought his arms around to embrace her, she laid her head against his chest. He tightened his embrace and they clung to each other as they ended their separate journeys through fear and loss and began their journey together to…
Bobby went out to the kitchen to start the coffeemaker before shucking off his boxers and t-shirt and jumping in the shower. As the water cascaded down his body, he rehearsed the phone call he planned to make.
"Good morning, Hope. I hope you slept well, I know I did. For what was probably the first time in months, if not years. I was wondering if you had any free time today?"
Boy, if this didn't make him feel and sound like an awkward sixteen-year old again, he didn't know what would. Dressed in jeans and long-sleeved sports shirt, he grabbed his cell phone and walked over to the window to see if he could tell if Hope was awake yet. He knew which window was hers, just as she knew which windows were his. He saw her cat, Quills, sitting on the window ledge. But no sign of any movement, or any other sign of Hope. Glancing at the DVD player, he saw that it was only 8 o'clock, too early to call. Their conversation last night had been unlike any he'd ever been a part of before. It had been at times, tentative and embarrassed. It had also been honest and revealing. It was several hours later that he fianlly returned to his building. Both still wondering what awaited them.
He poured his first cup of coffee of the day as he flicked through the channels on the TV remote, finally stopping on one of the cable news programs. Famine, war, and pestilence abounded throughout the world this morning, but today that wasn't his world. Today his world was one filled with Hope.
........... Chapter 2 coming soon..................
