Lovely Letter. (Lucy Christopher "Stolen" FanFiction) SLOW UPDATES

Lovely Letter. (Lucy Christopher "Stolen" FanFiction)

I watched as the officer more or less shoved you out of the precinct doors, then retreated back into the station. It was a crummy little place, situated between an abandoned shoe shop and an empty chinese restaurant. Excluding a cat that meandered down the sidewalk, we were now the only ones on the desolate city street. This was a small town, not prone to heavy traffic or dense populations. I watched you from afar, rooted in my spot on the sidewalk, clutching the straps of my backpack in a white knuckled grip. This must have been how you watched me. 

Your head was down, your blonde hair a bit shaggier than I remembered it.Then again, it had been five years. You still had your tan, the white walls of the prison unable to bleach it out of you. You still stood tall - proud, and I gave a small sigh of relief at that. They hadn’t broken who you were. That was my first concern after you’d been sentenced. Suddenly, you turned towards me, your bright blue irises entrapping mine in a heated gaze. 

I knew I should have turned then and walked off into the city, leaving you thinking it was just a trick of your eyes. That it wasn’t me standing there, watching as you were released back into the world. But, I didn’t. I physically couldn’t and I was silently cursing my body for betraying me in this hour of need.

My breath caught as you descended the steps, then started walking towards me, something clutched beneath your arm. I was too stricken to really process what it was. Thousands of emotions were suddenly surging through me, though the only one that I could grasp hold of was fear, as I saw your face was devoid of emotion.

Did you blame me for your imprisonment? Were you angry? Would try to hurt me? Images of you, hand raised threateningly in the air after I spilled the brown paint, flashed through my mind. The setting sun, halfway obscured by the buildings behind you, cast you in an angelic glow. For a moment the fear was gone. That is, until, you were standing not five feet away from me, your broad chest and muscled arms no less intimidating than before. 

You stared down at me, your eyes widening a bit as you took in the changes time had made to my appearance. I felt my heart slamming like a psychotic humming bird against my ribs. After a moment, a small smile had turned up the corners of your lips - a sign of approval. I should have left then. Turned and ran head long back to my car, back to campus, back to my dorm, shut the door, locked it, then hidden under the covers, leaving you far behind. 

But I was still frozen. I’d only come here to see your eyes - just see that impossible shade of blue once more before I banished your entire memory from my mind. Before I began to erase you. You shifted slightly and my eyes flashed down to the stack of worn and dogeared papers you held in your grip, supporting them against your hip. I immediately knew what they were. I swear my face must have paled immensely, for you were suddenly reaching a free hand out towards me as if to help.

My letter. You had my letter. You’d read it - all of it. 

The last words I’d typed out, “Good-bye, Ty. Gemma” were supposed to be our end. This moment, right here, shouldn’t have happened. You shouldn’t have seen me and most certainly shouldn’t have approached me. Those words, that letter, was supposed to be my final goodbye. 

We stood in silence for a few minutes, your hand still suspended in mid air, my eyes still trained on the would-have-been farewell. Now, now we needed to say something. Talk. Speak. Do something. I wasn’t ready for this. I didn’t come out here expecting to have to talk. I doubt I could. 

My eyes once again shifted back to your face, the worry there sending a nice, agonizing sock to my gut. Abruptly, your face began to blur. Panic was the first thing to jolt through my veins. I blinked a few times to try and clear my vision but it got worse, my eyes beginning to sting. I whipped my head around looking for a source of clarity but there was nothing. Everything was one big colorful blob. My hands left the backpack to attend to my stinging eyes, only to draw away when they encountered wetness. I’d begun to cry, without permitting myself to do so. 

Then, I was suddenly held against you, my face pressed into your shirt, my arms pressed into your chest. I heard a dull thud as the letter hit the ground. I was full out sobbing now, calming down only when you began to stroke my hair as you had done during our last night under the stars. You shushed me, cradling me to you like a child. 

Eventually, my sobs quieted, leaving nothing but a few hiccups now and then. 

“It’s alright...” you murmured against the crown of my head, your warm breath fanning out over my forehead. If I tried hard enough I could still smell the faint aroma of eucalyptus.  

I though I’d gotten over you. I did. But, could one ever truly get over you? All the psychiatrists I’d been to had claimed to have cured me. I told them what they wanted to hear and gradually I’d started to believe what I was saying. But here, in your arms, I could tell I hadn’t gotten over you at all. Not one bit. 

*So, do you want me to continue it? If so, please send me a message or just leave one right on here! Thanks for reading!*