Author : Valérie
Email : email@example.com
Rating : PG
Category : MSR
Spoiler : somewhere after Existence
Summary : Maybe they do have see each other before getting reunited in the Truth.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own'em. I'm just borrowing them. They'll
returned in the state I found them in. :o) They do, however, belong
to CC and 1013 Productions and that's about all I have to say about
A great thanks to Toomsie whom translate my storie and to
Lisa, my beta reader.
A night in New York
She had received the letter that she had been expecting for
weeks now, and the
few words that it contained had made her heart beat faster.
In an incredible frenzy, she had prepared for a baby-sitter for her son, took a leave from the personnels service, and smiled at her mother when shed asked her some questions.
She was still smiling on the aircraft, which took her to her destination, a smile that seemed to evaporate all the anguishes of the last forgotten weeks, all the fears, all the interrogations vanished.
In the cloudless sky, the plane took her towards happiness.
She read and cherished those few words:
Meet me in three days in New York, in front of the Central Park's gates; I will wait for you at dawn.
The letter wasn't signed, but she had instantly recognised the little confused but familiar writing, barely readable, but one she had learned to decipher during all the years they had known each other.
She had prepared herself like a schoolgirl for her first date,
had taken time to
choose her clothes, had looked at herself in the mirror for a long time, admiring her body with pride, it was almost as trim as before her pregnancy.
She had left without luggage, with just the essential in a simple bag. She didn't want to burden herself with futility; she wanted to live fully in the moment, without constraint, carefree and happy.
She had jumped in a cab to the airport, had thanked the driver with a generous tip, and was now waiting, quivering, at the arranged rendezvous.
The glazed wood gates, motionless and covered with a white coat of snow, made up an old-fashioned picture, making a surprising contrast with the modern buildings behind .
The air was freezing, and Central Park started to receive his
first visitors, sportsmen or simple walkers, early tourists,
dropouts and the homeless.
She looked at each face with eagerness, each silhouette, hoping anytime to recognize the one she was waiting for.
And suddenly, whereas the sun rose on the misty horizon, in a turn of an alley, she saw him, running small strides through the majestic trees.
He slowed down his pace and she enjoyed the sheer luxury to observe him before he could see her, admiring his lean body, his warm brown hair shinning in the cold morning light. He was dressed with a dark blue windbreaker and matching sweat pants. He was merged in among the others but she only saw him. She made out his face, his gorgeous eyes which were trying to find her.
His noble features lighted up when he saw her and he softly made his way to her. They walked the few steps, which separated them from each other and found their arms round each other, clinging and grasping like nothing else tethered them to the planet, overwhelmed by the happiness to be together again.
Curled up against him, she breathed a lungful of his scent, discovering feelings shed feared she would forget, delighted by his warm smell, the uniqueness of it that as only him.
With one word, they conveyed all their love, all their expectations , all their hopes. Their eyes shinning with happiness and tears, their lips met and mingled, their hearts beating a loud staccato in unison.
They were One , dispersed stones together again , forgotten were the long weeks of loneliness and doubt.
They remained a long time locked in limbo like this, isolated from the rest of the world, one pressed softly but tightly against the other, eyes locked on eyes. They laughed, happy like teenagers, united by a simple, essential happiness and deep love.
Like the desert awaiting the rain, they satisfied one another; then they moved away, hand in hand, among the unaware passers by.
The day went by like a dream; they enjoyed each minute, taking in the sights of New York, having an intimate dinner, doing everyday things that everyday people take for granted, pretending that they were not outside looking on on this normalcy, painfully excluded them, desperately pretending to ignore that each passing second inexorably brought them closer to the hour of separation. They didn't speak about serious things, making the most of this long awaited reunion like an oasis in the desert of their tormented lives.
At nightfall, he led her into his hotel room, where they made love shyly, slowly, passionately, like the first time, and intensely, as if it was the last time.
The pale early morning found them entwined like soft sweet wild vines, and when she opened her eyes, she buried herself in his sad glance knowing like a razor to her heart, that the hour had come to leave.
She didn't ask him where and when they could see each other
again, she knew that he didn't have an answer, but in his
sparkling eyes, she read that other moments awaited them. She
sealed her acceptance with a kiss to his heart. He smiles sadly.
They are not in the habit of saying goodbye