The Fragility of Fate ✔️

08 | Longing

Gabriel

She was but one bedroom from me but still so far away. The past week had been balancing on a knife edge. I had chosen to stay at home and leave James to tend to pack matters because I couldn't handle tearing myself away from her. I knew that my presence would tip her over the edge, so I stayed in my own room doing work that I was able to complete from home. This left me able to roam the around the rest of the house while she was asleep.

Now that she was here, I couldn't leave her.

The air had become thick with her misery, and each moment had me sliding deeper and deeper into her reality. I could hear her heart beat as she sat against the corner of the bedroom each day. I could hear her fingernails trace circles on the drywall. I could hear her barely muster a response when Adrienne or Neve would try to illicit some conversation. But... she was trying, that much I could tell.

What was most painful were the night times. Hearing her whimper through the door and being terrorized by her own thoughts and memories left me feeling helpless. Every fiber of my being had me desperate to reach out and comfort her.

My frustrations billowed out in short breaths as again, an evening was spent listening to her fight her way through another nightmare.

"I can't just sit here and do fucking nothing Adrienne..."

Gesturing with her hand to keep the volume down, she reclined in the lounge chair downstairs as we reflected on the day that was. The embers of the fireplace cackling as if cruelly mocking my fate.

Her eyes were downcast. "I know, but you can't interfere with a nightmare. It will make it worse Gabriel."

I sipped my whiskey, mulling on her words. The last thing I wanted to do was contribute to her hurt. The last thing I wanted to do was be another male in her life that felt entitled to her personal space without her desire for it.

Neve was unusually silent, but it was clear she was thinking of something, "Spit it out Neve. I know that look of yours..."

Pursing her lips as if suppressing an idea, she relented, "She needs to be left to work through it on her own. I know it's hard. I getttttt it. But. If she realizes that you stood over her bed like some sort of creep, it would destroy any sense of trust that you manage to establish later on."

Holding her hands in mock surrender, she downed the glass before tossing it on the coffee table.

Tracing the fabric of the cushion, I digested their thoughts before offering a different solution, "Is there any reason why I couldn't dream walk again Adrienne?"

Swallowing her lips she nodded, "Technically no. I mean... "

"Would she remember the dreams?"

Adrienne continued to nod briefly as she sought words to explain the process in more detail, "Well, to be honest I don't know. It could be a wonderful experience... It could provide peace for her mind and help her recover..."

Neve interjected, "Or it could make the situation a whole lot fucking worse too. But you know..."

"Fucking hell, I am trying to help here. What do you expect me to do? If nothing changes, nothing changes. But if I don't at least try, that we won't fucking know, will we?"

"Fair call. I trust you Gabriel. Just don't be a jerk."

I smirked before winking, "You wouldn't ever let me anyway..."

Finishing off our drinks, I walked over and doused the fire, the flames hissing out in protest at being put out.

Turning to head upstairs, I left them both to their own devices as I trudged up to my room. "Ladies...."

~

Closing my eyes, I laid back on my bed making a conscious effort to control my breathing as I prepared to traverse into her dream state.

Crossing over the astral plane, I was immediately struck by the difference in backdrop to our first encounter... despite the blurring at the edges, we were at her home. A coffee stained hue saturated the scene as she sat on her knees, picking through scattered photos of those left behind on the floor of her old house.

Her homesickness floods me.

Glass broken in a million pieces, books strewn across the floor, and a photo where her fingers linger... a portrait of herself, smiling.

"I used to be like this once you know..." Her sadness ensnares me, the tightness gripping my breath.

"I'm sorry..." is all I can muster.

"I am longing for something I can never have." Her voice pains me, it is like grass quivering in the wind.

I let my silence fill the room as I kneel down beside her, my gaze focused on the memory in her hands... this is her chance to speak.

But she uses no voice.

Her fingers trace her bygone smile as if she is savoring the memory of who she used to be... before the room, the walls, the windows, and the house in its entirety shatter to dust. My vision clouds through the haze, but I manage to watch the photograph, still in her hands dissipate slowly as we are but bystanders to the directive of her subconscious metaphor.

I ensure that before all traces of the photograph vanish entirely to have seared it into my memory, my hope to replicate it for her one day.

I stay down beside her as I watch the landscape quaver, taking in the new scenery before me as we fall further into her past. I look up to the young girl standing beside me. It is... her.

She giggles, "Who are you?"

Her childhood curiosity and innocence at the fore front.

I smile, "A friend."

I watch as she runs off into the field, chasing bees under the sun's golden glory. She vanishes into its honeyed glow as I listen to the echo of her laughter. Strands of auburn waves wisp through the rays before I wake, the sun sleepily greeting me once again as it rises outside my window.

Thank you for reading.

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