Stellina

Deepest Waters

The chilling shock of the metal door knob struck her hand as she turned it, waiting for the little bell inside Curt's bookstore to tinkle. Yet before she could step inside and feel that flooding relief of cool air, she felt a hand dig into her shoulder and yank her away.

"Hey!" Lina yelped, the word feeling crackly and foreign in her throat. Before she could even worry about having to say another word, however, the hand spun her around, and she was greeted with his melty chocolate eyes.

"Lina, we need to talk. Urgently," he murmured, still yanking her along the innumerable pastel storefronts.

A white-haired young woman scurried by, her arms overflowing with wicker baskets of baguettes and asparagus. She cast them a disdainful stare, her oval eyes widening. "Is this man hurting you?" she whispered to Lina, a stalk of asparagus nearly plummeting to the pavement. Lina shook her head, still being tugged by the rugged blur of the German.

They continued stumbling along until they reached a hidden alleyway in the back of a closed-down Italian restaurant. Panting, Lina sunk to the cracked pavement, only to shoot back up when discovering a cloud of ants floating on the cement. She dug her hands into her hips, glaring at Luka. "What is going on?" she wrote, the words not yet on her lips.

He paced back and forth, his olive cheekbones suddenly carved much deeper, as if he hadn't tasted a crumb of bread in days. "Okay, Lina, well, here's the thing," he started, his eyes fluttering shut. "There's a train for Paris that leaves in eight hours, down at the central station."

"That's... convenient. For those who are traveling to Paris." Her heart began to melt, the sparks bubbling inside of her and threatening to explode into fireworks. Even without his dimples or his exuberant eyes, just the sight of his face cheered her more than the lulling waves of the ocean. It's not over yet, she thought, I am going to find the money and if Liliane doesn't want me here then we are going to run away together.

"I guess," he murmured, his voice sounding as if it were thousands of feet deep in the water. "I'm telling you this because I have to leave on that train, Lina." He winced, his feet inching backward.

Lina inhaled, only to choke on her breath. The sparks dissipated, replacing the fluttering of her heart with that of a violent pounding against her chest. "Oh, you're going to visit then?"

The pain rested in the crevices of his face, becoming more prominent as the minutes ticked by. This time, he drew nearer to her, the aroma of chamomile more faint, yet twice as enrapturing. His calloused fingers brushed against her wrist, sending chills up Lina's spine. She could tell by the way his eyes were melting that he would never be coming back.

"I want you to come with me, Lina. We'd stay in Paris for a few weeks and get things settled, and then leave France completely. To Switzerland or Italy or something," he whispered, his lips brushing against her cheek. "If I had a choice, I would never leave. But now you and I, we could start a life of our own--"

"No," she shouted, the word pouring like molasses onto the pavement. Her chest tightened, curling into a crumpled paper ball kicked across the muddied puddles. "Y-you know... I can't l-leave her, not without the money. You d-don't... can't leave."

His eyes sunk to the ground, shattering her heart into two separate pieces. Liliane, or a boy. She'd have to make a choice, and the thought of doing so shredded her apart. She didn't dare to form the question on her lips. Why do you have to go? Why can't you stay?

He stroked her auburn hair, feeling it glide across his fingers. "We have to go, Lina," he whispered. "For you. For me. I'm sorry."

Before the words tumbled out of her mouth, she fell into his arms, her hands framing his face as her lips met his. For what seemed an eternity, she remained there, the aroma of chamomile surrounding her and the notes of the viola lingering in the air, and her heart suddenly melding into one as she handed it all over to him.