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    Luc
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Interlude - 1. Chapter 1

The Precipice of Eternity


I just stared. I couldn’t do anything but just stare. It was an unreasoning moment. A moment of pure reaction, no thought. I just stared.

It was as if a flash of light had blinded my eyes. I saw nothing. I saw only him. It was as if he were surrounded by an aura, a glow of light that rendered my eyes blind to everything but him. I felt sweat form on my brow and a wave of fear sweep over me. I was having some sort of cerebral hemorrhage! A stroke of some sort! Wasn’t that one of the symptoms? Flashes of light? Ordinary objects suddenly surrounded by auras? I was about to die and the fates had determined that he would be the last thing on earth that I would see.

So I just stood there and stared. I couldn’t do anything but just stare. It was an unreasoning moment. A moment of pure reaction, no thought. I just stared.

He turned suddenly and somehow, against all the odds in the universe, our eyes met. Even at this distance I could see that they were green. Not the green of an emerald. Not a cliched green. They were a dark green, almost going to blue, but not quite. They held the cool green of a forest. I could almost feel the breeze blowing gently through the trees, could almost smell the pine. I closed my eyes against the onslaught to my senses. Surely I would die now. My time had come.

I don’t know how long I stood there. Time had stopped for me. I was standing on the precipice of eternity. The hour of my death had come. What purpose would be served by any further measuring of the moments?

“Are you all right?” The voice was followed by a light touch on my arm. I nearly jumped from the electricity of it. Against all instinct, against any vestigial feeling of better judgment that I had, I opened my eyes.

They were definitely green. Not the green of an emerald. Not a cliched green. They were a dark green almost going to blue, but not quite. And they were barely inches away from my own. I caught my breath. I knew those eyes. Knew them as if they were my own. I had seen them so many times, gazed into them so many times, fallen into them so many times… But I had never seen them in that face.

“Are you all right?” The touch, so light it was barely there, was still on my arm as the voice echoed itself. I must have stared, stared into those eyes for God knows how long. Time had still not returned to me, had still not returned to measuring the moments.

And he smiled. It was a slow smile, a tentative smile, a smile filled with questions and uncertainties. I felt the smile, felt it right through my skin, felt it go right through my flesh, right to my soul. And a slight blush colored his cheeks. It was the blush of a rose, delicate, soft to the touch, fragrant to the senses. It crept up his cheeks carefully, as if it was unaccustomed to being there, unsure of finding its way.

I felt myself smiling in return. I could see my smile from outside myself. I could see it slightly crooked, rueful, self-mocking. “I’m not quite sure…” I could feel my brows knitting slightly, forming a puzzled expression.

“It’s just… you were staring at me.” His blush deepened and his eyes dropped for a second, breaking the contact that had held us both for so long. “And I thought for a moment that I knew you, or that you might know me…”

I wanted to scream “Yes! Yes, I know you! Of course I know you!” because that is how I truly felt, felt right down to the depths of my soul. Yet… I also knew, knew right down to those same depths of that same soul that I did not know him. So I merely said “No…I don’t think so.” I felt my head shake slightly, regretfully.

His eyes narrowed slightly and he looked at me carefully, thoughtfully, as if trying to pull forth a memory. “Are you sure? Because I could swear…” his voice trailed off.

I realized that his fingers had remained on my arm all this time. I realized it because my arm suddenly felt cold, and I noticed he had dropped his hand. Cold, except for a slight burning where his fingers had touched… I covered the spot with my hand, rubbing my fingers over the skin, as if trying to touch him by touching where he had touched. He noticed, of course. And he did something impulsive. Impulsive, I say, because it couldn’t have been planned, couldn’t have been thought out… He covered my hand with his.

I sighed, a deep sigh, a sigh that came from the very bottom of my lungs—and from the bottom of my soul. Because when that hand covered mine, when that hand that belonged to that person whose eyes belonged to someone else covered mine, I felt a wave of warmth sweep through me, felt like I was being wrapped in arms so warm and safe that nothing in the world, nothing in the universe could ever trouble me again. And that was the last thing I remember feeling as my brain shut down completely and blackness overtook me.
Copyright © 2011 Luc; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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