As She Lay Sleeping

by ChicagoTunnelKid

(A short little story for Vicky’s Birthday celebration)

She lay on his bed, slumped over the large side pillow. She came despite utter exhaustion, because she wanted to be with him. It astounded him every time he thought of it: she wants to be with me. Her even breathing testified to her slumber that meant he could look his fill.

Her hair fell a bit across her face. Her face. Where once horribly cut and scarred, doctors had fixed it so it was now beautiful. He remembered seeing her the first time since he had saved her life. Secretly, he had hoped she might need his advice and counsel to deal with looking different from others. It would be something they had in common.

But he found her to be beautiful, and his heart fell because he knew she would not, could not, be a friend to someone who looked like him now that she was back in her world. The tiny scar on his forehead reminded him of her reaction to what she saw – magnified by her discovery of her own disfigurement, and likely startled coming up behind her as he did – but she recoiled and threw the reflector at him in defense, although none was needed. Later contrite, she gazed at him, really seeing him, with no look of revulsion or fear. That’s when he lost what little was left of his good sense, and fell totally in love with her.

But she surprised him that evening on her balcony, by begging him to stay and read with her. He found he couldn’t refuse her. Then later, after saving her from thugs, he had said goodbye, and she had replied, “for now.” And so it had begun, a relationship of sorts until it was a relationship of hearts. Astounding, yet true.

She looked so small lying there, hardly taking any space on his bed. He knew he would sleep little that night, as the scent of her would keep him awake thinking of her, of what he most wanted and couldn’t have: a life with Catherine. She accepted the limits, but wasn’t above pushing against them whenever she could think of a way to try and convince him otherwise. She made space in her life for him, and often at a cost for her, as this evening reflected. But she would not complain, indeed, her only complaint was what little time she could spend with him when she wanted it to be more.

When had he started wishing it could be more? And not just more time, but – more. She was his world, his reason to draw breath. And it felt like it was not enough. She wanted and deserved more. He wanted more, not as sure about the deserving part. How many nights had he spent questioning fate for bringing them together and yet keeping them apart? Surely, the fates would not be so cruel.

He thought he had come into Catherine’s life to help her find her courage, but maybe, Catherine came into his life to teach him true courage. He, who spoke of facing fears, had perhaps a thing or two to learn from her about moving beyond fears. Facing them had only kept him stuck in place. Perhaps it was time for him to move forward toward love.

He knelt beside her. With his finger, he moved her hair back behind her ear, showing the one remaining scar. He stroked it lightly as he ran his finger across her cheek and forehead. She roused slowly, her eyes opened and shone with love as they focused on his face. He cupped her cheek with his hand, leaned forward, and kissed her.

“Welcome, Sleeping Beauty,” he said as he kissed the surprise from her face.