The Allure of Love

Chapter 9

Anastasia felt the blood drain from her face as that achingly familiar voice reached her ears. No, it couldn't be...could it? Slowly, she turned towards the sound, dread and anxiety coiling inside her like a vise.

And there he was - Chris. Looking equal parts amused and utterly shellshocked at the sight of her.

In an instant, it was like the last year had evaporated. All the tangled, messy emotions surrounding their friendship's implosion came hurtling back in full force, momentarily unraveling the happy-go-lucky reunion vibes with Sam and Josh. Taking in the vision of Chris's warm brown eyes, subtly tousled hair, and that hint of stubble along his chiseled jawline that she had always found inexplicably attractive, it was as if no time had passed at all. Like they were just two kids fresh out of their Fiction Writing seminar, lounging on the campus green and bantering without a care in the world.

Except this time, as his gaze slid curiously towards Jack, a shadow flickered across Chris's expression – a veil Anastasia could no longer see behind. She felt unanchored, off-kilter in a way that seemed cosmically unfair. Why should he have this effect on her still, even now? Wasn't she supposed to have moved on by this point, to have healed those wounds fully?

Shoving a thick lump down her throat, Anastasia managed to return his wry smile with tight warmth. "Chris...wow. Hi! I didn't realize you were going to be here too this weekend" She shook her head in disbelief, trying in vain to shake off the sudden pins-and-needles prickling across her skin. "It's...been too long."

Chris started towards their cluster with an inscrutable expression, mouth opening and closing for a beat before Sam swooped in with his trademark bonhomie.

"Winchester! You silver-tongued fox, you – get over here!" He bellowed, wrapping an arm around Chris's shoulders and dragging him towards the group with a little squeeze. Shooting a lopsided grin at Anastasia, he obliviously added, "We were just getting ready to take Annie over here on the grand alumni trash tour of the campus. The places that cheap beer built, if you will. You've got to get back on board to be our esteemed tour guide!"

Sam's eager energy towards Chris felt like a jab to Anastasia's tender wounds. Annie. The nickname she hadn't allowed anyone but her childhood crew to use since...well, since everything imploded with the man standing right in front of her. Since her world had shifted irrevocably beneath her feet.

Josh and Jack were similarly observing the palpable shift in dynamics, though clearly less attuned to the layers of history weighing down their little circle now. She watched Chris's throat bob as he digested her presence next to the disarmingly handsome Jack, whose blue eyes were also taking stock of this new addition. Could he sense the former sparks that had once flickered between them, now muffled under a shroud of anguish?

"Chris, buddy - it's been ages!" Josh chimed in, breaking the suddenly awkward tension as he clapped the other man on the shoulder with a broad grin. "Feels like just last week you and me were staying up until dawn pre-gaming and studying for Eisenman's sadistic exams before lacrosse, doesn't it?"

Shooting Josh an appreciative glance, Chris finally seemed to shake off his initial frozen reticence. Clearing his throat, he nodded, lips tugging upwards at the edges. "It sure does, man - those study grind memories from the good old days aren't ones I'll be forgetting anytime soon." His gaze slid back towards Anastasia – who felt abruptly breathless under its weight, one hand instinctively reaching up to fiddle with the pendant at her throat. "But it seems like plenty of other memories and faces are even fresher in the mind..."

She wasn't sure if it was wishful self-indulgence, but Anastasia could have sworn his rich baritone sounded laced with the faintest undercurrent of lingering pain and longing. It caused an instant ripple of remorse to churn in her gut.

Seeming to sense the tenuous awkwardness, Jack smoothly extended a hand towards Chris with his signature self-assured smile. "You must be another one of the old gang from the glory days, then," he said easily, looking every inch the magnanimous, cultured gentleman. "Jack Hunter – Anastasia's better half and perpetual voice of reason these days."

His last quip drew a ripple of grins and chuckles from the guys, but Anastasia felt anything but lighthearted. She couldn't help studying Chris's reaction as he grasped Jack's hand, that strange, indecipherable shadow dancing behind his chestnut-warm irises once more. She thought she detected a nearly imperceptible tightening in their handshake clasp, as if each man was sizing up the other through some arcane male ritual. Of course, she swiftly reminded herself, that was ridiculous...wasn't it? She was the one with the real history and former spark with Chris, not Jack.

"Chris Winchester," he returned amicably enough, though Anastasia thought she detected a thread of underlying steel beneath his outward geniality. "The old furniture workshop jockey from the arts quad and her Majesty Annie's undergrad partner in crime back in the day. It's a pleasure to meet you, man."

Anastasia fought back a small wince at the casual use of her old nickname again, the one she had retired shortly after their fallout. Damn, if he didn't know exactly which buttons to push without ever appearing to be overtly rude. A tiny fracture in her heart's scars cracked open a new, spilling the tinniest bittersweet ache across her chest.

This was her grand re-introduction to the world she had once known at CSU – her past love and present desire colliding messily into one combustible new reality. Only time would tell if she could navigate the weekend without anyone getting scorched.