wellownedbkup (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wellownedbkup) wrote2008-11-14 09:09 pm
wellownedbkup) wrote2008-11-14 09:09 pm
Entry tags:
life @ 23, chapter 5
life @ 23
Chapter 5: 21, Part II
In the space of time that it takes to take in a breath, she feels at home once more. There's a knot that's been so tight inside her for so long, she didn't realize it was there until it began to release at 45000 feet above the Atlantic. She breathes in again, and she stands a little taller, a little looser than before, here on this island a lifetime removed from her own, from everything she’s used to.
Celestine gives her a look, all bedraggled and glazed eyes, but with a burning excitement beneath the ragged tired of a 10 hour flight to places unseen. So smiles, giddy with the realization that yes, they're here. They're finally here and it only took an age to do it. She throws out her hand to grip Celeste’s tight before heading through to their baggage and thence through customs. Nothing, not even the utter destruction of her perfectly packed cases by the guards searching for illegal substances, nothing shakes that feeling that she's only beginning to feel is coming home.
She's finally home again, with her best friend riding shotgun.
So can’t fall asleep on the train, despite the way the adrenaline has left her system and how she sits, shocky with it. She calls home, talks to everyone while the signal stays strong on her cell phone. She even calls Daniel, though he doesn't answer. It doesn't matter. She watches the scenery pass when she runs out of people who are awake at this hour of morning back home anyway. Towns and empty land speed past her window, sheep and cars a constant blur.
She keeps this as a picture in her mind's eye, even as she lets herself crash the moment she enters the hotel where she and Celeste are staying. She’s just awake enough to register the lock on the door, the bars of hazy light through the window and the room in shades of pink before she sees nothing but the back of her eyelids.
Minutes pass – or hours, she can’t be sure which it is in this same half-light of day– before she can drag herself up through the layers of sleep she’s buried beneath. She shivers and checks her phone for the time. Five hours and three missed calls from Daniel. She doesn’t bother checking her email or the one voicemail he left and calls him, still barely awake and sleepy soft as a result. His smile, though, is brilliant, even across mobile phone lines.
“Daniel,” she greets him, a whisper of her voice, too reminiscent of the first time they met.
“How was your flight, love?” And the sound of his voice brings a dopey smile to her face and has her burrowing under the covers some to keep Celeste from seeing just what he does to her.
She sighs. “Long. We didn’t get any sleep until we got here. Or, at least, I didn’t.” She’s murmuring into the phone, not quite falling asleep to the quiet commiseration on the line, but comforted by it.
“I had plans for us,” he says, drawing the words out, like he expects her to complain or beg off, “but I’ll understand if you want to go back to sleep. We have the rest of the weekend.”
She mmhmms faintly. “When do you want us to come over?” she asks, her question coming out more awake with every rustling movement from the other bed in the room.
“You don’t have to come today, Sophie,” he offers again, despite his want for her company bleeding through.
She breathes out a laugh, halfhearted in effort, but not in sentiment. “I’d like to see you too. When will you have us over?”
“Shall I come for you in an hour?” he asks cheekily, no doubt trying to give them time to get themselves together.
The laugh she chokes out wakes Celeste. “I’ll let Celeste know. See you in an hour, darlin’.”
“Darlin’?” Celeste’s question drowns out Daniel’s reply. But not even So’s strongest glare makes Celeste mind her own business. She huffs and it’s all she can do not to frown. She didn’t want Celeste to barge in, not when she’s hearing his voice again for the first time in two years.
“Don’t be jealous,” she jokes, watching the girl get out of bed and stretch herself awake with a snort. “Next time you’re talking to someone you’re dating on the phone, I get to make fun.” So purposely pulls her blankets up again over her head, trying to block out anymore of this conversation. Her big, stupid mouth. They hadn’t actually decided they were dating, not in clear and explicit language. There had been hints—oh, had there been hints. But nothing more than words in letters that sounded like so much more… but sounded like so much less.
Celeste raises an eyebrow and shoves onto the bed next to So, covers wooshing with air until they relax. “You don’t get off that easy. Since when’re y’all dating?”
So mumbles her answer into the pillow before turning her head just enough for a muffled secondary answer to come out. “What? You think I tell you everything?” Before Ceelie can keep the topic going, So shrugs her out of bed. “Up. He’s coming in an hour and we both need showers. Seriously… we haven’t been clean in 48 hours or something. Eww.” She follows that with a shudder, as though that’ll make any difference at all, before heading into the shower herself.
An hour later finds them out on the steps of the hotel, waiting for him to show. So keeps up the conversation from where she is sitting on the too-steep stairs with her eyes scanning the street. There’s nothing quite like the interminable wait, the way she feels after not having seen him for over two years. A few moments longer shouldn’t matter, and she’s going to blame her continued lack of sleep, but she’s antsy and misses him terribly. Every tall, skinny guy that passes in her line of vision could be him and her heart beats just a little faster as a result.
She doesn’t even know what they’re talking about, just that she’s laughing and Ceelie’s a nut, when she sees him. And she stos, so suddenly that it’s just as well Ceelie’s not paying her any attention. So turns away and focuses all of her attention on her cousin because she cannot focus on Daniel. She has to have some control over herself when she sees him again face-to-face.
“That’s him, right So? Daniel??” Celeste drops her voice, unnerved by the strange behavior of her cousin. So nods shakily and stands as she finally hears him.
“Sophie.” Just her name, but a wealth of meaning and emotion behind it. Like the entirety of everything boiled down to two syllables.
She comes and stands next to him, looking up at him coyly through her lashes before throwing her arms around him in a graceless hug. “God, Danny. It’s been ages!” He laughs low and holds her tighter to him. And she knows it isn’t possible for time to stand still; so So knows he holds onto her longer than necessary, longer than propriety dictates. In that moment, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but having his heartbeat next to hers, that feeling of home she gets when she’s wrapped in his arms. She thinks this raw breathtaking ache she gets in her chest must be what a blow to the solar plexus feels like.
God, but she’s missed him. She can’t help but think that with every single moment that passes. She’s at his house and talking to his mother about this and that, and all she sees is him, stretched out on the couch and head propped on his arm, smiling. And each glance tells her he’s watching her, though she can’t tell if he’s punch-drunk or happy.
She prefers to think happy, even as she texts him for the next two weeks and lets him know how thrilled she is that he’s been so wonderful.
Chapter 5: 21, Part II
In the space of time that it takes to take in a breath, she feels at home once more. There's a knot that's been so tight inside her for so long, she didn't realize it was there until it began to release at 45000 feet above the Atlantic. She breathes in again, and she stands a little taller, a little looser than before, here on this island a lifetime removed from her own, from everything she’s used to.
Celestine gives her a look, all bedraggled and glazed eyes, but with a burning excitement beneath the ragged tired of a 10 hour flight to places unseen. So smiles, giddy with the realization that yes, they're here. They're finally here and it only took an age to do it. She throws out her hand to grip Celeste’s tight before heading through to their baggage and thence through customs. Nothing, not even the utter destruction of her perfectly packed cases by the guards searching for illegal substances, nothing shakes that feeling that she's only beginning to feel is coming home.
She's finally home again, with her best friend riding shotgun.
So can’t fall asleep on the train, despite the way the adrenaline has left her system and how she sits, shocky with it. She calls home, talks to everyone while the signal stays strong on her cell phone. She even calls Daniel, though he doesn't answer. It doesn't matter. She watches the scenery pass when she runs out of people who are awake at this hour of morning back home anyway. Towns and empty land speed past her window, sheep and cars a constant blur.
She keeps this as a picture in her mind's eye, even as she lets herself crash the moment she enters the hotel where she and Celeste are staying. She’s just awake enough to register the lock on the door, the bars of hazy light through the window and the room in shades of pink before she sees nothing but the back of her eyelids.
Minutes pass – or hours, she can’t be sure which it is in this same half-light of day– before she can drag herself up through the layers of sleep she’s buried beneath. She shivers and checks her phone for the time. Five hours and three missed calls from Daniel. She doesn’t bother checking her email or the one voicemail he left and calls him, still barely awake and sleepy soft as a result. His smile, though, is brilliant, even across mobile phone lines.
“Daniel,” she greets him, a whisper of her voice, too reminiscent of the first time they met.
“How was your flight, love?” And the sound of his voice brings a dopey smile to her face and has her burrowing under the covers some to keep Celeste from seeing just what he does to her.
She sighs. “Long. We didn’t get any sleep until we got here. Or, at least, I didn’t.” She’s murmuring into the phone, not quite falling asleep to the quiet commiseration on the line, but comforted by it.
“I had plans for us,” he says, drawing the words out, like he expects her to complain or beg off, “but I’ll understand if you want to go back to sleep. We have the rest of the weekend.”
She mmhmms faintly. “When do you want us to come over?” she asks, her question coming out more awake with every rustling movement from the other bed in the room.
“You don’t have to come today, Sophie,” he offers again, despite his want for her company bleeding through.
She breathes out a laugh, halfhearted in effort, but not in sentiment. “I’d like to see you too. When will you have us over?”
“Shall I come for you in an hour?” he asks cheekily, no doubt trying to give them time to get themselves together.
The laugh she chokes out wakes Celeste. “I’ll let Celeste know. See you in an hour, darlin’.”
“Darlin’?” Celeste’s question drowns out Daniel’s reply. But not even So’s strongest glare makes Celeste mind her own business. She huffs and it’s all she can do not to frown. She didn’t want Celeste to barge in, not when she’s hearing his voice again for the first time in two years.
“Don’t be jealous,” she jokes, watching the girl get out of bed and stretch herself awake with a snort. “Next time you’re talking to someone you’re dating on the phone, I get to make fun.” So purposely pulls her blankets up again over her head, trying to block out anymore of this conversation. Her big, stupid mouth. They hadn’t actually decided they were dating, not in clear and explicit language. There had been hints—oh, had there been hints. But nothing more than words in letters that sounded like so much more… but sounded like so much less.
Celeste raises an eyebrow and shoves onto the bed next to So, covers wooshing with air until they relax. “You don’t get off that easy. Since when’re y’all dating?”
So mumbles her answer into the pillow before turning her head just enough for a muffled secondary answer to come out. “What? You think I tell you everything?” Before Ceelie can keep the topic going, So shrugs her out of bed. “Up. He’s coming in an hour and we both need showers. Seriously… we haven’t been clean in 48 hours or something. Eww.” She follows that with a shudder, as though that’ll make any difference at all, before heading into the shower herself.
An hour later finds them out on the steps of the hotel, waiting for him to show. So keeps up the conversation from where she is sitting on the too-steep stairs with her eyes scanning the street. There’s nothing quite like the interminable wait, the way she feels after not having seen him for over two years. A few moments longer shouldn’t matter, and she’s going to blame her continued lack of sleep, but she’s antsy and misses him terribly. Every tall, skinny guy that passes in her line of vision could be him and her heart beats just a little faster as a result.
She doesn’t even know what they’re talking about, just that she’s laughing and Ceelie’s a nut, when she sees him. And she stos, so suddenly that it’s just as well Ceelie’s not paying her any attention. So turns away and focuses all of her attention on her cousin because she cannot focus on Daniel. She has to have some control over herself when she sees him again face-to-face.
“That’s him, right So? Daniel??” Celeste drops her voice, unnerved by the strange behavior of her cousin. So nods shakily and stands as she finally hears him.
“Sophie.” Just her name, but a wealth of meaning and emotion behind it. Like the entirety of everything boiled down to two syllables.
She comes and stands next to him, looking up at him coyly through her lashes before throwing her arms around him in a graceless hug. “God, Danny. It’s been ages!” He laughs low and holds her tighter to him. And she knows it isn’t possible for time to stand still; so So knows he holds onto her longer than necessary, longer than propriety dictates. In that moment, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but having his heartbeat next to hers, that feeling of home she gets when she’s wrapped in his arms. She thinks this raw breathtaking ache she gets in her chest must be what a blow to the solar plexus feels like.
God, but she’s missed him. She can’t help but think that with every single moment that passes. She’s at his house and talking to his mother about this and that, and all she sees is him, stretched out on the couch and head propped on his arm, smiling. And each glance tells her he’s watching her, though she can’t tell if he’s punch-drunk or happy.
She prefers to think happy, even as she texts him for the next two weeks and lets him know how thrilled she is that he’s been so wonderful.