Flying Free

Flying Free

Description: "She kissed him, or rather, he kissed her. It ended as quickly as it began. "Sorry," he smiled, "drunken accident." Without another word, she found herself alone at her doorway; he left before she could realize that he hadn't ordered a single drink."


         For Cristina Ruiz, sleep did not come easily. Not in her bed, not at her chair at work, nor in the bench by the pond she often went to when she needed to think. She didn't have any trouble sleeping, per se; she would gladly do it, had she the time. Unfortunately, her schedule and her work always got in the way. There were plenty of capable people around her, capable and sensible enough to not get stuck with other people's work. But she had her own reason for doing so much. To her, sleep was not, and should not be, a priority.
         The sun was out, but it did little to warm her. Autumn's chill permeated the air, and pierced the thickness of her jacket with ease. She let out a shuddering breath, the warmth turning to cold mist before her. Her pen scratched across the papers strewn on her lap, filling in this, checking out that. She'd done this thousands of times before; it was pretty much second nature by now. For anyone else, the cold would have kept them all-too painfully aware of the wind, urging them home to warmer comforts. Not for her, though. There were more important things than sleep.
         Still, as much as she would like to think she was dedicated to her task, countless sleepless nights began to take its toll on her. Drowsiness crept in, somehow eluding the wakefulness of the cold fall air, and for just a moment, she let herself nod forward.
         Just a moment, she thought, and then I can get back to work.
         The bench shifted ever-so-slightly beneath her, and she snapped awake, startled. Turning to the newcomer at her left, she let out her breath quickly, the tension present within her leaving along with it, wisps of white snarling at the air. It was only Nathan. He was hardly the intimidating type. He sat, his hands folded politely in his lap, not even facing her. He had a tendency not to look people in the eyes; sometimes she wondered why. She didn't realize that he was simply too shy to look at her directly. To him, looking at her would be like touching a priceless piece of art; you just might get away unscathed, or just as likely ruin a masterpiece.
         For several long moments, he didn't say anything. He didn't exactly get to the point very quickly. Part of Cristina wanted him to leave, so she could get some damn rest without being reprimanded; of course, the rest of her realized that that would be both selfish and irresponsible. Ironically, she reprimanded her erring half, telling herself that what she should be doing is getting back to work. She briefly considered getting back on task while he was still there, until he spoke, interrupting her internal argument.
         "It's cold out."
         It seemed like the most obvious, trite piece of conversation anyone could make. Still, she couldn't help but think that he had been sitting there this entire time, thinking about how exactly to say what he came to say. Not knowing how to respond, Cristina spoke, just as obviously.
         "Yeah, it is."
         Once again, several long moments passed. At times like these, Cristina wondered if Nathan was even paying attention; on the other hand, she also wondered if he was meticulously planning every word, just for her. While she sat there contemplating this, he stood, almost as abruptly as he had sat down.
         "Sorry, I should have left you to your dreams."
         Cristina was about to agree when she suddenly realized what he was implying.
         "I...I wasn't sleeping!" Her face flushed, embarrassed. She'd like to think she was embarrassed for being caught sleeping when she should be working; that probably wasn't the real reason, though. Noticing that he was about to leave, she made to stop him, for some inexplicable reason.
         "Wait. You don't have to..."
         He cut her off, speaking softly. "Nah, it's okay. Go get some sleep." His smile and chuckle were that of a simple, friendly meeting. His wistful face and the softness of his voice betrayed his true feelings. It sounded like a simple request; still, it had the feeling of a command. She smiled, collecting her papers into her shoulder bag.
         "Alright, I'll go." He nodded, and walked away. She stood and walked the way she came, back to her office.
         Silently, she wished he would forgive her for lying.


         Cristina found herself in the office of her boss, Daniel. As odd as it was to have someone who was once your peer now as your boss, she still found herself on a first name basis with him. As a result, she had absolutely no idea what his last name was.
         "Daniel..." She started, suddenly all-too aware of her fidgeting hands.
         "Yeah?" He looked up, the ghost of a smile on his face. She realized that he was not unlike Nathan; how their eyes and smile seem to say something, but linger too long and they say something completely different.
         "I was wondering..." Normally very articulate, Cristina was suddenly at a loss for words. They slipped from her tongue, melting into embarrassment, as she continued trying to stop her hands from moving so much. Scrambling for something to say, she continued quickly, hoping her cheeks, slightly flushed, would go unnoticed. "...um...would you like me to take the Riverol case? I heard that Charlie dropped it after..."
         Daniel waved his hand dismissively, an almost-smile on his face. "Oh, you don't have to worry. Karen took the case after Charlie dropped it. Besides, I thought you were already piled up with enough work."
         Cristina winced, even though Daniel's chuckle probably meant that it was a joke. "Oh...of course." She left quietly, with not so much as a goodbye from him. The scratch of his pen as it diligently resumed its work was the only sound to follow her out.
         Back at her desk, she filed each of her cases with utmost care, just like she always did. She lingered there, just barely noticing the gorgeous sunset through her slit blinds. Suddenly determined to leave as quickly as possible, she shouldered her bag and flew down the stairs, speaking a soft "good evening" to Karen as she passed her in the stairwell. The younger woman held a large, heavy-looking box of papers; Cristina offered no help.
         Assaulted by the chill of the coming winter as soon as she opened the door, she spun on her heel and gazed silently upon Daniel's window. She heard Karen busily discussing her cases with Daniel, her voice a lilting song of pride and confidence. As she watched, it became more and more difficult to turn away. It was like some sort of great conflict that she was losing, and she had not the courage to turn her back for a moment.
         "Are you lost or something?" Cristina was startled yet again, suppressing her ingrained urge to slap someone when she was caught off guard. She knew the voice, and she saw who it was; still, she wasn't as relaxed as she should have been.
         Christ, she thought, how long has he been there?
         Composing herself, she countered with her own wit.
         "You always show up at the weirdest times. Shouldn't you be at work or something?"
         He laughed. "Work? Me? That's an amusing thought." He gestured up at Daniel's window. "What's so exciting up there, anyway?"
         She laughed nervously and shrugged. "Nothing. I was just, um...getting something to eat."
         It was like he was about to say something else, but stopped himself. After a lengthy silence during which Cristina vainly tried to will away the redness in her cheeks, he spoke.
         "Okay, let's go."
         Cristina blinked, not even sure if she heard him correctly.
         "What?"
         He smiled, this one feeling a bit more genuine than the one he gave her before.
         "You know, dinner. It's that thing where you eat...things."
         Confused but not resistant, Cristina shrugged.
         "Okay. Lead the way, I guess."


         When asked to pick her poison, Cristina went for wine. She felt that wine had more sophistication to it than other alcohol; that, and it didn't destroy her breath like other drinks did. A few glasses of the stuff later, she felt more relaxed than she had in weeks. In their conversation, she ended up doing most of the talking, in stark contrast to the lengthy silences that normally define their concept of "conversation". Even so, when Nathan did end up speaking, she found it hilarious; she laughed long and well, sometimes bordering on a bit too long to be normal.
         Normally formal and courteous, Cristina was strangely at ease; she stretched out as fully as possible without knocking over the table, and when she thought Nathan wasn't looking (which she noticed wasn't too often), she closed her eyes for just a little while, fighting a losing battle against drowsiness.
         Nathan, in all his wisdom, or perhaps, because he paid a bit too much attention to her for his own good, noticed her almost desperate yearning for sleep. He thought it a shame that she should have to rest; he hadn't seen her this happy (happy = not working) in weeks. Still, she deserved a good night's sleep or two, to at least try and break even with all the sleepless nights she's endured. So, without having time to order their main meal, he decided it's time to go. Surprised, Cristina did not have time to protest; he whisked her out the door and into the night, only briefly pausing to pay the bill on the way out. Naturally, it was as he was paying the bill that he realized that it was a good thing they didn't order any entrees that night; he wouldn't have been able to pay. 
         Thank you, karma, he thought. Clearing his throat, he spoke.
         "Which way to your house?" Cristina blinked, her eyes blurry as sleep slowly but surely took a hold of her. Looking around this part of town, she knew full well where she was; even then, it felt like she hadn't gone this way in ages. Weakly pointing in the vague direction of her house, Nathan nodded and walked her home. Following the path in silence, Cristina kept trying to glance at Nathan's eyes, see any hint of emotion or his motives; alas, his face was blank, and his eyes he kept averted, as usual.
         Eventually, Cristina firmly squeezed Nathan's forearm, and he stopped. Without a word, she walked up to her door, which should have been familiar to her, and clumsily put in her key. The lock clicked and the door was slightly ajar, and Cristina turned to Nathan, standing on the sidewalk. Unsure of what to say, she eventually managed to eke out a quick, muttered "thanks for the meal". Her eyes downcast, she didn't notice him swiftly cross the lawn in a couple of strides, until he tipped her chin up and pressed his lips to hers. Cristina was confused, wondering if this was just a figment of her drowsiness, her current state of inebriation, or perhaps even her imagination; it seemed that as soon as she realized that it was real and started to enjoy it that it came to an end.
         For a moment, just a moment, Nathan seemed unsure of himself. Just as quickly, he regained his composure, flashing her a small smile.
         "Sorry. Drunken accident."
         "You don't...you don't have to leave, if you don't want to."
         The words were out before she knew what she was doing; indeed, as soon as he dared to kiss her, all her meticulously organized plans and schedules were thrown out the proverbial window. Her arm darted forward and clutched his wrist, and he hesitated as he made to leave.
         He was unsure of himself, before he shook his head. "No, I should leave. It's for the best."
         She nods and makes her way over to the couch, not even able to make it to her bedroom. She fell asleep before she even felt the cushions beneath her; she didn't have any time to realize what just happened. Nathan hadn't ordered a single drink that night.
         While her breath slowed to the snail's pace of slumber, Nathan closed the door and stepped inside, sitting next to the couch. He watched her even until sleep threatened to take him as well. Regardless, he fought his own drowsiness. After all, there were more important things than sleep.
         A lesser man would have taken advantage of this. A lesser man would have done something more than simply sitting, and watching her sleep. But to him, she deserved better than that. She was a masterpiece to him, a priceless work of art. Works of art are not meant to be manhandled like some doll. They are meant to be adored, and appreciated, to inspire and tap into wisdom.
         He found the greatest joy in simply being around her, even something so simple as the gentle curve of her lithe form as it rose and fell with her breath. It was intoxicating. And he realized, as she lay there, so gentle, so perfect, that he did not deserve her. He abruptly stood and left, cursing his being so forward.
         This was a complication that he could not deal with right now.
         Earlier that night, he told her it was a drunken accident when he kissed her. Earlier that night, he said that he should leave.
         This time, it was he who silently wished that she would forgive him for lying.


         In the haziness of the world of dreams, Cristina noticed, through vague images and senses, that she happened to be on a desk. Her beloved Daniel was sitting with his hands behind his head, laughing heartily as he spun around in his chair like a child. Her breath hitched in her throat; it had been years since she had seen him this happy. He spoke, that smile ever-present on his face; and while the words eluded Cristina's memory, she was more than happy to smile and nod along. Every lilt and fall in his voice she called forth from her memory, and yet something felt different.
         He had never, ever seen him this happy. He was practically exuberant. Never in their years in college, nor when they first started this business. Not even now, while they were living their dreams.
         She thought then of her own dream, this very moment- Daniel happy, talking with her with the same eagerness and ambition as he had when they first left the Academies. She couldn't imagine anything else she could possibly want. Why would she want his lips on her throat, her hands, when he was speaking like this? The sound of his joy was a blessing to her, and should never stop, as long as Cristina could help it.
         Karen. The sound of his voice was suddenly quite clear. Can you believe her? She's amazing. She works hard, and gets results. I've never seen anyone do this well. Nobody's been so successful since you.
         Cristina couldn't think. She listened, but thought nothing. Not like this. Especially not like this...
         Realization hit her like a slap in the face. Not since you.


         Cristina worked quietly, busily at her desk, signing some things and setting others aside for Daniel to go over. She had convinced herself that she had a deep, undisturbed sleep, and that her heart felt lighter upon waking.
         However, no matter how hard she tried to concentrate, her mind would inevitably wander. She tried to pass the blame onto something, anything; anything to draw her thoughts away from what had happened last night, both in her dreams and in real life. She couldn't, wouldn't think about him, not now, especially not now...
         Soft knocking drew her attention to the door. She stood, smoothing out the few creases in her skirt, and made her way to the door, pleading to herself that it wasn't him.
         Opening the door, she silently cursed the irony as she saw Nathan there. He smiled, and suddenly Cristina was reminded of his goofy antics when they were both in high school. Something seemed wrong with his smile, though she couldn't quite place what. She smiled nervously and gave him a little wave, immediately blushing as she realized how silly she must have looked. Unfazed, he smiled and returned the odd gesture.
         "Good morning, sunshine. Can I come in?"
         "Um...sure."
         As Cristina stepped in, and she heard him close the door behind him, she thought of how he was so polite in waiting for her answer, even though she knew that he would have come in even if she had said no.
         He sat in the visitor's chair beside her desk, silent and brooding. He was always like that. Even in high school, where he would often make a fool of himself just to get her to laugh, his smiling antics often hid a pained soul. She sat at her desk, papers momentarily forgotten, as she tried to come up with something to talk about. The silence between them seemed hurt, confused, and maybe even hostile; Nathan was just being courteous, and Cristina knew he wouldn't say anything about what happened until she did so first.
         Thankfully, the silence was broken by Daniel's voice from down the hall. Smiling awkwardly, she held up a finger.
         "Um...hold on a second."
         Stepping into Daniel's office, she noticed that he was surrounded by a lot more paper than usual. Without looking up at her, he continued, in an authoritative tone.
         "Ah, Cristina. I was wondering if you could work a little later tonight, because I have to go and-"
         "No."
         Daniel looked up, surprised. Cristina couldn't quite believe it herself, but she continued anyway, in a soft, but firm voice.
         "...I'm afraid I can't."
         Normally, Cristina could have come up with a perfectly valid excuse. She had an appointment with a client, she had to get her dog out of Mr. Simmons's yard, something along those lines. She wasn't really sure what she was doing right now; but it felt like something she should have done for a long time. In retrospect, telling Daniel that she had to go because she didn't want to cling to a past relationship and go pursue a new one that left her as confused as she was when she was in her early teens probably wouldn't have gone over too well.
         Daniel paused, before nodding. He continued, polite, but still confused.
         "...um...okay."
         Cristina returned to her office, scanning the room for Nathan. He had disappeared, and she wasn't exactly surprised. Sitting at her desk, she went back to work.


         Time passes.
         Another day and there he is, waiting on the bench. She arrives for work just a few minutes early, just to see him.
         Silence continues to reign between the two, a demon that steals away any words they think they might have. Cristina doesn't know what to say; Nathan doesn't know either, but wouldn't say anything until she did. .
         If they were together, nobody would be able to know. They sit apart, not even touching, not even speaking, and not even looking at each other. Yet, despite this, it continues, without reason or, at least a reason either of them would admit. Days, weeks pass, and never do they touch. Never do they speak. Sometimes they look, but only when they are sure the other isn't; such hidden glances are filled with questions.
         }What are we doing?
         Why are we doing this?
         Did I hurt you?
         Will you ever forgive me?
         So many questions, very few answers. Perhaps the answers will come in time; they both know this, and secretly, both wish it will not take too long. The most pressing question lingers about them, forming the silences into hurtful, painful periods of waiting for either acceptance or rejection.


         Cristina was told that if you love something, you're not afraid to let it go. It is not her job to keep him happy anymore; perhaps it never was. She has nothing left to learn from somebody who cannot teach her what she wants to know.

         Nathan was told that if you love something, you're not afraid to let it go. He keeps going to that bench every day, and, thankfully, she is always there to meet him. The day he doesn't see her there is the day where he will leave her alone; as long as she continues to meet him, he has hope.

         The silence between them was not wasted; they spent that time looking for the right words, and the courage to say them. It would be almost a year before they even spoke again, even if they saw each other almost every day.


         It's autumn again, and the wind continues to pierce the thickness of Cristina's jacket, making her wonder why she hasn't bought a better one yet. Still, adjusting the bag on her shoulder, she finds herself at their bench. She sat with him in silence, just like she always did. She spent the last year looking for the right words, and they continue to elude her. Despite this, she felt particularly daring today. She sat closer to him, and even went so far as to lean on his shoulder. She closed her eyes, and for a moment, the autumn chill was swept away. His breath he let out slowly, inspired by her simple gesture to finally break their year-long silence.
         "Are you okay?"
         Simple words...easy words. These were not the words that either of them were looking for; those would come in more time. Both were patient; both would wait. She paused, contemplating what to say, almost amused that a simple yes-or-no question would take so much time to answer.
         "Yeah. Why?"
         He shrugged, sighing, his breath cascading out into the crisp autumn air.
         "...Just asking."
         Cristina had never looked Nathan in the eye; Nathan had never seen Cristina with a genuine smile. That day, Cristina saw his eyes for the first time, and he felt her smile steal away the autumn chill. Both agreed that neither had truly seen the other until this day.


~They were told that if you love something, you're not afraid to let it go. Both spend their nights confused but not alone, wondering just who it is that has flown free~