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But he knows...

There in the disconnected world of words and keyboards she sits. She is typing furiously, like a woman possessed. She wants more. More words, more knowledge, more information. She knows that he knows. He always knows. He knows every last bit of information that she wants... but he'll never tell it. No, he'll make her think for herself. She doesn't want to think. She wants answers, quick, easy answers that are quantifiable and clear. Answers that can be proven with research and study.She has never been good with emotion, even though it rules her. Her emotions are too strong, too real, too close to the heart of her. They could destroy her in an instant.

Why does the world have to be so complicated, she wonders. Why can't everyone just play their cards out on the table? Is there anything to loose, really, if we're all playing with everything we've got?

But no, he will not tell her, though he knows. He is the priest in the confessional, knowing the secrets of the darkest hearts and bound only to hear and give repentance. He is a friend. A strange and awkward companion at times, one who doesn't fit her usual mold, but still a friend. It's a partnership based on mutual respect and some sort of trust that neither of them are used to giving. It's a good thing. She finds herself glad for it.

They can talk, for hours, about nothing and everything. They agree and disagree. They say so many things. In then end it's time to retire, sleep for him and more stories for her. The chirp of the instant message halts and she is left dreaming of her leading man, who's hand she cannot go without wanting to hold. A dream, a dream that someday he'll take down his walls and tell her what he's really thinking. Really feeling. It has only been twenty four hours since she thought of him last, thought of their night sharing laughter and sweetness on the midst of Halloween revelry. Ah, but he has a pull on our Heroine. Something about him. She tells him this all the time, "there's just something about you" and he smiles. He likes it.

The Priest said to her he was listening to their song again, shared it with the Priest upon his arrival. He let it slip that he looked lonely, for her. Missed her. She doesn't dare hope to believe it, but what if... just what if it was true? What if she wasn't the only one missing that warm, sweet feeling they shared? She misses our Leas Male. We will not call him Hero yet, for he is not. Who knows who he will turn out to be. For now she will only lie abed and dream...

Tomorrow is another day.






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dellafiamma
dellafiamma

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