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Jul. 3rd, 2006 02:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turpsThe room is warm, sweat prickling his skin as Chris waits. He shifts from foot to foot, eyes down, watching his sneakers, a frayed lace trailing on the floor.
The drapes are sunshine yellow, a white vase crammed full of flowers against pale blue walls. Soft toys lined along a counter, and tiny clothes arranged in a careful pile.
The air is thick with the artificial smell of summer. But strip that away and you’re left with the harsh realities of sweat, blood and tears. Chris can taste it on his tongue, bitter and familiar, a reminder of previous days.
“I knew you’d come,” Megan says quietly, and Chris can hear the truth in her words, her trust he’d come today. He’s glad someone believed.
She’s propped up in the bed, knees small hills under the pink blankets. She looks exhausted, but nothing can dilute the glow of happiness. It’s apparent in the gleam of her eyes, the slant of smile as she reaches out a hand, touching the small cot to her side.
Chris follows the movement, torn between wanting to see so badly, while not wanting to at all. This was never supposed to happen; but it has. He takes a step forward. Megan’s fingers curl over the cot side. Black nails, the varnish chipped like always.
Chris has kissed each one of those fingers, felt them trail down his back, cupping his face as they lay in the sun. The sound of distant voices and the muffled whoosh of rides, music floating on the wind, cotton candy and Megan’s hair tangled in his hands. Gentle kisses and eyes crinkled with laughter, sharing a meal between them, lying hand-in-hand.
Then their lives changed forever, that tiny statistic that you never think about. That percent where protection fails.
“She looks like you.”
“Yeah?” Chris looks up, and Megan’s hand is on the cot, but she’s looking at him, painful inevitability in her gaze. They’ve already talked this over, discussed the future that looms huge and uncertain.
They’d split up months before, before an early morning phone call and news that turned his life upside down. They discussed being together, but she’s got someone else now. A house, a car, a future; and that’s the most important thing of all. Chris has nothing but a dream, and first hand knowledge that dreams don’t keep you fed and warm.
There’s only one real answer
There’s a soft cry, so like his sisters while not at all. He walks faster, leans over the cot to look inside. She’s tiny with dark hair. She’s beautiful. His daughter, his little girl.
“You can hold her.” Chris glances at Megan, takes in the quiet tears. They make up for his own which are locked up tight. A pressure behind his eyes, in his chest as he carefully slides his hands under that small body, positions her head in the crook of his arm.
“I love you.” He whispers the words into dark downy hair, holds her close as he says hellos and goodbyes. Compacts a lifetime of love into minutes as he kisses the soft skin of her cheek, then sets her down. Tucking in blankets, stealing last touches, a fractured lullaby to ease her into sleep.
A last look and he leaves. Knows that sometimes the best way to love someone is to walk away. It doesn’t make it easier.
The drapes are sunshine yellow, a white vase crammed full of flowers against pale blue walls. Soft toys lined along a counter, and tiny clothes arranged in a careful pile.
The air is thick with the artificial smell of summer. But strip that away and you’re left with the harsh realities of sweat, blood and tears. Chris can taste it on his tongue, bitter and familiar, a reminder of previous days.
“I knew you’d come,” Megan says quietly, and Chris can hear the truth in her words, her trust he’d come today. He’s glad someone believed.
She’s propped up in the bed, knees small hills under the pink blankets. She looks exhausted, but nothing can dilute the glow of happiness. It’s apparent in the gleam of her eyes, the slant of smile as she reaches out a hand, touching the small cot to her side.
Chris follows the movement, torn between wanting to see so badly, while not wanting to at all. This was never supposed to happen; but it has. He takes a step forward. Megan’s fingers curl over the cot side. Black nails, the varnish chipped like always.
Chris has kissed each one of those fingers, felt them trail down his back, cupping his face as they lay in the sun. The sound of distant voices and the muffled whoosh of rides, music floating on the wind, cotton candy and Megan’s hair tangled in his hands. Gentle kisses and eyes crinkled with laughter, sharing a meal between them, lying hand-in-hand.
Then their lives changed forever, that tiny statistic that you never think about. That percent where protection fails.
“She looks like you.”
“Yeah?” Chris looks up, and Megan’s hand is on the cot, but she’s looking at him, painful inevitability in her gaze. They’ve already talked this over, discussed the future that looms huge and uncertain.
They’d split up months before, before an early morning phone call and news that turned his life upside down. They discussed being together, but she’s got someone else now. A house, a car, a future; and that’s the most important thing of all. Chris has nothing but a dream, and first hand knowledge that dreams don’t keep you fed and warm.
There’s only one real answer
There’s a soft cry, so like his sisters while not at all. He walks faster, leans over the cot to look inside. She’s tiny with dark hair. She’s beautiful. His daughter, his little girl.
“You can hold her.” Chris glances at Megan, takes in the quiet tears. They make up for his own which are locked up tight. A pressure behind his eyes, in his chest as he carefully slides his hands under that small body, positions her head in the crook of his arm.
“I love you.” He whispers the words into dark downy hair, holds her close as he says hellos and goodbyes. Compacts a lifetime of love into minutes as he kisses the soft skin of her cheek, then sets her down. Tucking in blankets, stealing last touches, a fractured lullaby to ease her into sleep.
A last look and he leaves. Knows that sometimes the best way to love someone is to walk away. It doesn’t make it easier.
