Exile

The Extra Passenger

The sunlight shines through, warms my face, and tries to awaken me from pleasant, lovely slumber.

My hand is no match for the strong, proud rays of sunshine that make their triumphant return after a night of torrid rains. I blink one, then twice in hopes of easing the stinging in my eyes. When I finally manage to ease the pain, I can't see anything at all. My eyes are blurry and watery – the remnants of last night's sorrow.

Even in my temporary blindness, I can see his body resting beside me, his back to my front, enveloped in a dream.

A smile spreads across my face. I remember now…he came to me because I needed him.

A realization hits, and I'm overcome with timidity. We've been sleeping here all right, and while we're not in danger of being discovered by my parents, I'm still shaken. Never mind that I'm fully clothed and he is too – there is something about being in close quarters with Alex that stirs the woman within and makes her bloom.

I can't describe my feelings. They're just out of reach. If I reach and try to grab hold to make sense of them, but they always dance away at the last moment. Fluid and fast, they are constant and endure.

Is this what love truly feels like? Is this how it's supposed to be?

I want to reach and touch him. I'm jittery just thinking about it. Can I do that? Am I allowed? This is all very new to me. Twenty-four hours again, he was just a friend. Sure, he was a friend I knew I had feelings for, but he was still a friend nonetheless. Now – I know he means more to me than that. Things have been bubbling under the surface for a long time – years, even – and now it's overflowed, spilling across the valley of our hearts. Things can never be the same again. Clearly, the previous arrangement wasn't doing anything for us.

Still…

I'm afraid to move forward.

I don't want to lose him…I couldn't bear that.

But I know I want to be more than friends. I'm in love with him.

I…I love him, too…

A loud groan and a shift from one side to the other tear me from my thoughts. His eyes flutter open. I'm paralyzed, even as a smile spreads across his face.

"Ohayo, Elodie," he says. His Japanese accent is about is good as my French accent – not very.

I can't help but giggle at his attempt at Japanese. I'm touched by his gesture. "Ohayo, Alex."

…

Slowly, I awaken from my dream. No, it wasn't a dream – it's a memory. It's just as lovely as a dream, but lovelier because it actually happened. The memory is of some comfort to me, since I'm here in my room at my parent's house, all by myself.

I know what happened last night was no dream, but it felt like one.

It started out well enough. He agreed to be my escort for my parent's party, and was kind enough to come with me on a joyride. But then, after tickling the breath (and the truth) out of me, things got really intense.

He told me how much he missed me. I told him that I missed him, too.

And then, the rains came. I don't know how long we stood there, holding each other in the downpour. All I know is the disappointment I felt when it had to end, and the words he whispered me as I listened to his heart.

Welcome home, Elodie…

It felt like home, being in his arms again. I didn't want to leave.