Her Fire

The Bookstore

With my lovely cup of java, I cross the street and enter the bookstore. I begin browsing around, not really looking for anything in particular. As I'm scanning the rows and rows of books, one catches my eye stopping me. I pick it up and open it, reading the synopsis. It seems like it might be interesting, so I turn the pages to read the first few sentences.

"Excuse me." a male voice said.

I froze. 'That voice?' I realized I wasted too much time to answer without seeming rude, so I just pretended I didn't hear him.

'Which may or may not be worse.' I thought, mentally kicking myself.

The unknown male clears his throat.

"Excuse me." he repeats a bit louder.

As I'm turning to acknowledge him, I say,

"I'm sorry, I just..." and my thought leaves my brain entirely as I see the man's face.

'It's him!' My head screams. I stammer trying to compose myself as I see his confused expression deepen.

"Uh, sorry," I say, feeling the blush creep its way onto my cheeks.

"I tend to get lost in books sometimes," a small smile on my lips.

"I'll just get out of the way." turning my attention back to the book in my hands and stepping away from the shelf.

"Uh, wait." the man says.

I turn and look at him.

"Hmm?" I reply.

"Um, can I ask your name? I feel like I know you from somewhere." he states, more confusion crossing his eyes.

"Oh, um, my name is Makenna." I say a little stunned.

'He can't possibly remember.' I think,

'The men haven't been able to in so long. It's not possible.'

His eyes shift upon hearing my name. He squints a little bit, shifting the glasses on his face.

"Hmm. Well, maybe not. I think I'd remember a name like that," the corner of his mouth turning up into a half smile as he says this.

"Sorry to bother you." he turns back to the shelf I was blocking.

Now it was my turn.

"Hey, wait." I say, reaching to touch his arm. He looks down at my hand and back up to my face.

"Yes?" he asks with a grin. I remove my hand, embarrassment slinking its way up my neck.

"Sorry," I half whisper,

"Um, I never got your name." I inquire in a more normal volume, glancing down to the ground, and as I'm returning my gaze to the face of my soulmate, I hear,

"Oh," and as our eyes meet, he pauses.

"Um," stammering slightly,

"It's um, it's Axl, my name is Axl." he gets out, still staring into my eyes.

I blush and glance away again,

"Well, um, it was very nice to meet you." I say.

'And so absolutely wonderful to have found you again, my love.' My brain has been in overdrive trying to think of ways to begin our relationship again. I begin to turn to leave him to the bookshelf. He places his hand on my arm, stopping me.

"Hey,"

I look up at him,

"Yes?" I retort with the same grin he gave me when he said it moments ago.

The slight confusion returning for a split second before vanishing.

"Are you sure I don't know you from somewhere?"

My heart begins to race, knowing I can't just scream that I'm his soulmate.

"U...um..." I stutter,

'I can't just tell him, I'm not allowed to. He won't believe me. He'll think I'm crazy.' My mind is racing as fast as my heart.

'Gods what do I say?' I clear my throat.

"Um, no, I don't think so. I move around a lot, so I'm not from here." I say matter-of-factly.

"I'm not from here either. I just moved here like a week ago." He states in the same manner.

"Me too." I just kind of say autonomously, stoic. My head swirling with a million thoughts.

'He can't remember. There's no way.' this, the most forefront thought running on its loop of repetition.

'How could we have possibly moved to the same location at the same time?' internally struggling.

'I can't tell him. I can't tell him.'

"Where are you from?" I finally break the silence that had been lingering between us.

"Breidablik, you heard of it?" he asks.

My eyes widen slightly, and I nod,

"Yeah, I'm from Sessrumnir." I reply, shocked.

'We're from neighboring towns? Why didn't I have the dreams there? Were we not close enough? Or not there at the same time?' My head beginning to hurt from all the rising questions.

"Really?" he asks excitedly, breaking me from my thoughts.

"Yeah." I say.

"I've been there a fair number of times. Maybe I've just seen you around there somewhere before or something." kind of shrugging it off as having 'figured it out' so to speak.

"Yeah, maybe." I half smile and turn to leave, saddened upon realizing he really doesn't remember me. We've had twenty-seven lifetimes together and I know he doesn't remember, but sometimes it still hurts. I notice him beginning to turn back to the shelf and I hasten my exit. Tears begin forming in my eyes and my chest tightens.

'What am I going to do?'