The door handle shook as pounding fists violently attacked the wood. It startled Violet as she got up from her bed to witness the unidentified, though recognizable, angry man at her home this early in the morning. She unfastened the locks using her free hand to rake over every inch. As the heavy knocking increased, so did her struggle. Thick, cutting winds nipped at her as the door swung open.
His lips connected with hers while the door proceeded to expose him. They stood there for a minute in each other's arms, seeming peaceful and careless together. Violet's fingertips traveled to his cheeks only to find they were soaked with tears. She drew herself away, wishing she could look in his eyes and tell him how much she loved him. Warm liquid was felt on his wrists.
Moisture pricked in the corners of Violet's eyes as she whispered in a cracking voice.
“Louis, what happened? What did you do? Why?” She knew what had taken place, she just thought it shouldn't have, and she blamed herself.
“I'm sorry, Violet. I'm so sorry,” he repeated this statement over and over again with a strained voice.
She paced over to the kitchen carefully holding his wrist in her hand. Water stung the wounds as it lightly trickled from the faucet. The cuts were bandaged with generous amounts of cloth to begin the healing process.
'They would heal, he would heal,' Violet tried to imagine in her mind.
After swallowing her words and reasoning with herself on what to say, she finally spoke.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He couldn't even speak to her. He thought himself weak for coming here. Louis didn't want anyone's sympathy and sorrow upon him. His feet crept over to the entrance of Violet's apartment, having voices tell him that he should never come back. He agreed with them. However, a natural event with 'fate' engrossed in it spoke to him in minimal sounds as if to say, “Ask her.” His fingertips traced shapes at the ends of the handle while he made his decision. With dragging strides, he walked over to Violet.
“What's the sense in life?”
She grabbed his hands and uselessly searched his face as hot tears plummeted down her face. He held her close in a needy embrace and lightly stroked her curls. Louis pulled away to see her tired, but beautiful appearance.
“Come over here.”
The two crossed over to Violet's room and sat on her recently inhabited mattress. Louis began to interrogate Violet about everything, because he knew she could make it easier, but her reply cut him short by releasing a pillow toward his head. A elated sigh journeyed up from his vocal chords while a bantam smile tiptoed its way on his lips.
