Vignette #1

by Cindy Rae

 

Arms still as hard as the granite he'd carved their home from waited for her.

 

It was their night.

 

They'd snuck across the park like two teenagers looking for a place to neck, and made the fire escape ladder in almost record time. They should, after all these years. The path was familiar enough.

 

"Your key still opens the door, you know. You could just go in. Just wait for me."

 

"Think I'm too old?" she asked him, giving him a saucy smile as she refused the help of his hand. She began to climb. Her derriere swayed softly as she scaled her own building. He would never tire of the sight.

 

"Perhaps it's me that's too old," he answered her, following behind. If she fell, he would catch her. If she fell, he would always catch her.

 

"You're ageless, and I'm immortal," she told him with a wink, looking down. "Haven't you heard? As parents, that's part of the deal."

 

Parents. They were that. And more. Decades that had sometimes been hard, had also been kind. Very kind.

 

They were on the roof before the moon cleared the trees. "Did you sit here, sometimes, waiting?" She was surprised she'd never asked him that before. This was the tenth time she'd demanded to reach the balcony the same way he did. The tenth time he'd accompanied her across the park, to the fire escape ladder, and up to the roof. He would climb down first, then pick her off the bottom rung, as they reached her old terrace.

 

"Sometimes," he answered her question. "When I wanted to feel near you. Or when I was waiting." He always felt near her, now, now that her life was Below. It was a blessing.

 

They dropped to the tiny sliver of stone that had once been the only place in the world that was 'theirs.' They had vast rooms of stone, and tunnels and caverns, now, to share, and a brownstone that had once belonged to Peter Alcott. A cabin in Connecticut that they snuck off to, when the mood took them, and a rolling farm where Devin still lived with Charles, and Devin's own family, in upstate New York.

 

But, once upon a time, they'd only had this.

 

Before that, they had even less.

 

He drew her back to his front, as he lifted the much-patched cape around her, giving her his warmth. He enfolded her closely, watching her watch the moon.

 

She sighed in contentment, and felt his warmth, his love, his strength, and all that he was, wash over her, as it always did. She tugged the corners of his cape close, enjoying the sensation of being cocooned, with him.

 

His world was in his arms. He would ask for no other.

 

She hated to break the silence, but felt obligated to. "I suppose I should light a candle," she told him, feeling the gentle night kiss them in its somber beauty. They always had candlelight on the balcony. Especially on April 12th.

 

But she would have to move away to fetch it, and he was far from ready to let her go do that yet.

 

Vincent's soft voice, the one she never tired of hearing, was sincere.

 

"How can you say we need light?" He squeezed her shoulders and wrapped his titan's arms around her more firmly, loving the familiar feel of her when she stood this way.

 

The brilliant warmth and light of a thousand suns danced behind his closed eyelids as he held her. If she closed her eyes, too, she saw the same.

 

"There is enough here to light our way, forever."

 

 

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