Salvation
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She stares out the window of her twilit room, watching the outside world from her perch. Her eyes occasionally dart to the clear droplets of rain that hang on the glass surface, she watches them slither down and eventually disappear. Some merge with others, and they slide down together. Then her eyes focus once more on the real object of her interest. He is still there.
Her eyes follow him as he gets up and pulls his rain-soaked hair out of his eyes. Breathing heavily, perhaps even panting, he jogs over to the edge of the road, and without wasting so much as a second, starts to run. Soon, he vanishes from sight.
She sighs, getting up from her watching spot and plopping down on her bed. It will take him at least ten minutes to finish the lap; then he'll have twenty more. Hair spread across her pillow, she closes her eyes. Pictures and scenes appear before her closed eyelids; pictures of him, pictures of her, pictures of them. He saved her. And now she must pay her debt. The price of salvation is a high one; but it must be done.
She must keep him alive through everything. Even if it means he must suffer from it now. The suffering of training, however, is nothing compared to what could happen to him if he is weak. No, she won't allow it. She must make him strong; even if it means she'll have to go through this moral atrophy.
She shudders, remembering what she used to be, recalling the clash of emotions she felt every day; and the chaotic voices that plagued her mind every waking second, sometimes even in her sleep. Those days are behind her, but they are part of her past that she cannot simply forget on her own.
He makes her forget. He makes her forget everything.
The awful person she used to be – of whom she still carries traces of; the pain, the suffering…all of it fades away when he is near. Then she pushes him away. She must push him away. For his own good.
She wants to open her eyes, but a small part of her stops her each time she tries; telling her to concentrate on the images she is pulling back from her past, the moments she cherishes the most; willing her to escape the reality of today where they must both spend their hours in solitude. She exhales. She is used to it. She accepts it. As if she has a choice… Her memories slowly morph into dreams as sleep overtakes her.
…
Her eyes shoot open as she awakens. She is breathless, her eyes still full of fear. A dream she thinks. Just a dream. Images from her nightmare flash across her eyes. She squeezes them closed tight, but finds this only makes the pictures more vivid. She brushes away the clammy sweat off her forehead and sits up in her bed. The moonlight that streams through the window casts eerie shadows along the room. Something falls to the floor from her lap. A blanket. She stares at it for a moment, trying to remember how it got there, but fails.
She stands up, knowing that if she sleeps again, the same images from before will plague her dreams again. She reaches for the blanket lying on the floor and picks it up. Somewhere in th inner recesses of her mind, she knows how it got there. Walking out the door, she leaves all the chains that bind her to the rational world behind her. She rids herself of all doubts, all limitations – anything and everything that ties her hands together and prevents her from moving. Rationality? Who needs it?
Her footfalls are silent against the wooden plated floors of the En inn. The blanket tucked under her arm, she walks down the dark corridor, trying to sense the energy that comes from one particular room. When she rounds a corner, without even thinking, she pulls the door open and steps inside.
The room is silent, just like the rest of the house. The window is left open, and a chilly breeze swirls around the room, making the curtains flutter like waves. She walks to the window, watching the tall shadows her lithe form casts on the walls. Shutting the window, she lingers there for a second. She can see the steady rise and fall of his chest; and even if barely, can make out his face in the dim moonlight.
With a resigned sigh, she glides over to the futon. Taking the blanket out from under her arm, she spreads it out and puts it over his still figure. She is careful not to wake him as she slips under the covers. She does not dare touch him. She turns sideways and rests her hands on the pillow; facing away from him. She plans to stay until sunrise, then escape back into her own room. But someone has other plans.
A strong arm finds its way around her waist, and she feels herself being pulled closer to the boy she thought to be sleeping. She takes in a sharp gust of air as she finds herself now pressed against him. Neither of them moves. She concentrates on his rhythmic breaths, unsure if he is still sleeping or awake. In time, her frozen form slowly relaxes in her arms - now almost fully sure that he is sleeping.
She knows she must trust her instincts more often. She knows perfectly well that the wall of ice that surrounds her is by her own hand. She is her own sculptor. But in this moment –when all rational thoughts have been abandoned somewhere behind a door – she finds her opportunity to be person, rather than a statue.
Tentatively, she flips around under his arm so she is facing him. Her head tilts up to look at the peaceful face of the boy. His chocolate eyes are hidden behind heavy lids, but she imagines them looking back at her.
Slowly, succinctly, her lips brush against his, eliciting as much pressure as a falling feather would on the ground. Her eyes close, and she realizes that the frightening images of her dreams have also been left in her own room. Her lips linger on his, afraid to pull away, afraid that if she loses contact he will disappear before her. She feels his warm breath on her face, soothing her and burning her at the same time. Letting her hand travel to his face, she places it on the side of his cheek. Lips still touching slightly, she waits for sleep to overtake her again.
The arm around her tightens.
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/a.n./ Please review! The little drabbles in this collection will all be short like this one; and hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently once summer comes along… Ja!