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| Hearing what she thought was thunder, Tasha awoke. She heard the rain splash against the window, and realized she was alone. She lurched off the couch and ran to the front door. There she saw a Harley spin off down the boulevard, and knew that he wouldnt be coming back. He was gone. She wondered what had prompted him to leave without telling her goodbye but she suspected that it was simply because he didnt want to see the pain in her eyes when he told her he was leaving. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and she, for a moment, deluded herself into thinking that maybe one day he would return. She was afraid to admit to herself the hard truth that she might not ever see him again. Yet, she had known this was likely to happen. She had told him truthfully what he had meant to her, and she knew that she could not allow herself to wait on him to come back, and that thought hurt her deeply. He had awakened her to life and love, so now perhaps she could go on and find someone else. It didnt help the pain of the moment, though, and darkness swept her soul. Tears streaked her face, and she stood at the door, staring after him. The apartment was so quiet, devoid all the vitality that he had brought into it with him gone. She wondered how long he would remember her. She realized she was being unfair to him, so she consoled herself with the thought that he would always remember her. Sighing heavily, she closed the door, and stood staring at it for a moment as the ache tormented her thoughts. He was everything she wanted in a man: a perfect mix of strong and tender. She suspected that he was a little too arrogant with a tendency toward impatience, but she hadnt seen any evidence to suggest that he was anything other than a gentleman. However, the life he lead was bound to be extremely hard to become accustomed to, and she wasnt sure that she would have been able to hold her place in it if they had become heavily involved. She had secretly wanted to try, though, and he hadnt given her the chance. She tormented herself with thoughts that perhaps she had been nothing more than a fuck to him. She leaned upon the door and felt the sobs choke her throat. She let the sorrow wash over her like an ocean wave, as it slapped upon the sand and left foamy breakers stranded in areas. Nausea rolled over her, and she fought back the urge to spew. She trembled with sorrow. After a few moments like this, she forced herself to compose by sheer will. Drawing upon inner strength she had developed, she focused her mind back on the mundane life she had become used to before he had come into it and swept everything before him. Like a rain - swollen river, he had inundated her soul, and just as the raging water subsided, he had too, and now she was left to the task of cleaning up. As her tears dried, she again promised herself she would get through this, and she made herself believe it. He was gone, and that was that. Back to reality, right? As she collapsed onto the bed, sleep was hard to find. She tossed and turned for the better part of the rest of the night, and at 4am she was still awake with thoughts of him racing through her mind. In her mind, she could still smell him, even hear him. The whispered nothings, the murmurs, the accent that had so completely captivated her. His endearing giggle. That breathaking smile. The feel of his strong body above hers, driving her to oblivion. At last, she fell into a fitful sleep, in which a ruggedly handsome man with wild unruly hair, and devilish green eyes, carried her, in arms bulging with muscle, to a rushing waterfall. He lay her down on the soft spongy grass where he took her with urgent passion and claimed her body as his own. |
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