COORDINATES

A call from an old friend

Scar sat in his office, the soft glow of the desk lamp casting long shadows on the walls, reflecting the turmoil in his mind. The weight of his decision pressed down on him, making the air feel thick with tension. He had always prided himself on his ability to handle any situation, but this felt different. This wasn't just another strategic move; this was personal, and that made it infinitely more complicated.

He stared at the phone on his desk, his fingers hovering above the keypad. The number was burned into his memory, but somehow, the simple act of dialing it felt like an insurmountable task. Memories of Rory flooded his mind—her laughter, the way her eyes lit up when she was excited, the quiet moments they had shared. All of it felt so distant now, yet so painfully close.

Scar took a deep breath, steeling himself. He knew he had to do this. The letters, the growing sense of unease—it was all leading to this moment. He had to reach out, even if it meant confronting emotions he had buried long ago.

Finally, he found the courage to pick up the phone. His fingers moved almost mechanically as he dialed Rory's number, each beep of the keypad echoing in the quiet room. With each ring, his heart pounded harder, the anticipation and fear mingling in a way that made him feel almost sick.

"Come on, Rory... pick up," he whispered to himself, his voice tense with anxiety.

Just as the call was about to go to voicemail, there was a click, and a familiar voice filled his ear.

"Hello?" Rory's voice was soft, almost tentative, as if she was unsure who might be calling.

For a moment, Scar was silent, his throat tightening. Hearing her voice again after all these years was like a punch to the gut. It brought back everything he had tried so hard to forget—the love, the longing, the regret.

"Rory," Scar finally managed to say, his voice rough with emotion.

"Yes this is her," Rory replied "Who is this? And how do you know my nickname?" 

"It's me Scar," he replies chuckling "It's been a while, Kitten."

There was a heavy pause on the other end of the line, as if Rory was processing the voice she hadn't heard in so long. Scar could almost feel the emotions swirling through the silence—confusion, surprise, and something else, something unspoken. His heart pounded in his chest, each second of silence stretching out like an eternity.

"Scar?" Rory's voice was a mix of disbelief and something softer, almost like a whisper of the past. "I... I can't believe it's you. How—why are you calling me?"

Scar closed his eyes, trying to gather the right words, but nothing felt adequate. The years of distance, the unresolved tension, it all felt like a wall between them. Yet here they were, separated by miles but connected by the fragile thread of a phone call.

"I know it's out of the blue," Scar began, his voice steadying as he spoke. "But I've been thinking about you, a lot lately. There's something I need to talk to you about. Something important."

Rory's breath hitched slightly on the other end, the sound so subtle that Scar might have missed it if he wasn't so attuned to her every reaction. "Scar, it's been years. Why now? Why after all this time?"

Scar sighed, running a hand through his hair, the familiar gesture somehow grounding him. "I wish I had a simple answer, Rory. I really do. But things have been... happening. Things I can't ignore anymore. And it all keeps leading back to you, to me. I didn't want to drag you into this, but I can't keep running from it either."

The silence that followed was different this time, charged with the weight of unspoken words, of history that neither of them could escape. Scar could almost picture her, sitting somewhere with that familiar furrow in her brow, trying to piece together the fragments of the past and the present.