The Sky Never Ends

Liquid Courage

   It was well into the evening when Noah and Selah returned to the house. 

   Their conversations left him feeling rattled. He enjoyed talking to Selah way more than he planned. He found himself wanting to ask her about many different things because all her answers were so intriguing. 

   He hadn't consciously realized that he assumed Selah would be much less bright than she was. Most women's concerns were keeping a clean house and raising children. Which he was sure Selah knew how to do, but she was so knowledgable about the arts, just based off her own studying in her free time. Her parents were strict in many aspects she told him, but her mother was a teacher and she made sure all of her children were well learned in a multitude of studies. 

   She told him that if she could be anything anywhere, she would be an impressionist painter living in a small house in the country, selling her paintings to make a simple living. It was an endearing thought. Watching her expressions while she told him about those things were the best part for Noah. Her eyes lit up and she couldn't keep the smile off her face. She was stunning. She spoke so confidently and eloquently. A major change from the shy skittish girl he cohabited with normally. He appreciated her letting her guard down around him. He tried to do the same in return, as much as he could stand at least. 

   When she asked him what he missed most about home, it was unexpected. He almost let it ruin the moment they were having. While he was talking to Selah it felt like the world stopped for a moment. That he didn't have baggage and a myriad of responsibilities. That he was a normal man capable of rational feelings and emotions. Not the tormented shell of a man he was.

   He answered her as best as he could to stop her fretting. Thinking that the heavy part of their conversation was over, but the she asked him and almost equally unanswerable question. 

   Why did he pick her out of all the girls at the brothel. Noah didn't even know the answer himself. Sometimes he thought he knew the exact reason, but he could never pinpoint it. 

   When she walked on to the stage the first thing he thought was how exquisite she was. She looked like a painted portrait of an african princess, a large poofy white dress, done up like a porcelain doll. Her eyes stayed pointed at the floor never looking at the audience of bidders, but he could tell she was petrified, wavering back and forth unsteady on the platform. Noah's heart starting beating faster and some impulse strong inside him told him he had to choose her. He couldn't let her be tossed to the filthy men, frothing at the mouth ready to eviscerate any signs of innocence then move on to the next victim. 

   It had to be her, his heart or whatever was in its place, needed to protect her. He bid until he won, and she passed out. 

   It distressed Noah, because he knew he acted impulsively. Her passing out already didn't show her apparent strength. He worried that she would be much more of a handful than Noah had prepared himself for. 

  She proved him wrong about how strong she could be, with how well she adapted over the months and to Noah's permanent bad mood. 

  The problem that Noah was having now it how much she was on his mind, and how guilty that made him feel. While he would work on the house he would think about questions he wanted to ask her, he looked forward to her cooking every night, and enjoyed her company through the meal. Her gentle laughs sounding like music to his ears. On the exterior Noah still was a man of few smiles and jokes, but on the inside whenever Selah would laugh at a joke he made or tease her it would make him feel warm inside. At night when he closed his eyes he saw her. Staring up at him profoundly for a bit too long like she always did. Curiously trying to read the unsaid words hidden in his eyes. It was unnerving.