Iridescent

Ten

"There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a flashing, throbbing moment."

- Sarah Dessen

There was no concept of time when it came to Lincoln and Althea.

They had passed their time together over the course of several months quitely, greeting the warm and muggy summer evenings with lingering kisses and gentle caresses. Lincoln had practically made himself at home beside Althea, not that she minded; her once echoing apartment for one became a cozy and loving apartment for two, housing Lincoln's worn leather loafers that he refused to change out, and his pajama collection that he was no longer embarassed of.

The two of them delved further and further into the creations and pieces of art that they were to each other, and they became aware of each others quirks and habits, inside and out. They both had told themselves that there was no room for doubt or questioning when it came to each other; neither of them could bare the thought of leading a life without one another by their side, hands intertwined and fingers laced together tightly, comfortably, and lovingly.

It wasn't until a stifling hot summer night, nearly six months later, when Althea found herself staring up at the blank slate that was her ceiling, her mind in overdrive and muddled concerning her very existence; the fan attached to the plastered wall rotated in smooth circles quickly, the panels of the white blades creating an illusion of a faded globe.

The grand window nested inside the wall adjacent to her bed served as the perfect means of late night entertainment as she stared out unblinkingly into the city's skyline, the lights danced and shimmered as she would slowly blink, and the occasional car would pass by her apartment complex with a gentle rumble that would lull her sleep-ridden eyes to a close.

Her bare legs were slightly sticky with sweat as they slid against Lincoln's. She turned her head to face him, his eyes shut and his breathing shallow as it wafted over the skin of her neck in intoxicating waves. Althea smiled to herself, the ends of the gentle curves not quite reaching the crinkles of her eyes like they normally did since she'd met Lincoln; her muddled mind continued its onslaught of thoughts that had been pushed back into the depths of her mind where she had hoped they'd be long gone and forgotten.

Althea eased herself out from Lincoln's light grip, his head only moving slightly as it rolled gently onto his pillow, and a light and incoherent mumble escaping from beneath his pouting lips. Althea quietly let out the breath that she had been holding as she stood at the foot of their bed, watching him with cautious eyes as his breathing returned to its normal pace, his t-shirt cladded chest rising and falling to a gentle and steady rhythm.

The air was soft as a gust of humid wind blew in through the open window, and the stars looked fine and bright and curious as they twinkled faintly from high above in the cloudless sky. Althea quietly made her way around her cluttered room on the tips of her toes, her destination set for the bathroom as the dream-like darkness urged her forwards.

She stumbled through the dark noislessly and shut the bathroom door behind her, leaving it slightly agape to avoid the echoing click of the lock. The lights burned her sleep-ridden eyes despite their dimness as she switched on the lights, and her breathing hitched as she caught her mangled reflection in the mirror. She avoided her own eyes they stared back at her, taking in her every move; her heart beat quickened and her throat tightened as she chanted to herself; you're better, you've gotten better, you're okay, but her fingers trembled as she wrapped her hair into a bun.

Althea stared at her reflection, clenching her jaw slightly and hardeneing her gaze before she let out a sound of annoyance and dropped her gaze. She twisted the knob to the sink for cold water, wincing slightly as it squeaked under the pressure.