Their First Conference (An Open Heart Fic)

10. The Revelation

The world surrounding us was a deep midnight blue - the darkest shade the city could ever be with all the light pollution. Not a single cloud or star shone in the sky - like a blank canvas suspended above the multistory behemoths towering over the two of us, caging Ethan and I in.

Everything around us was serene. Odd and comforting in such a place. A subdued zephyr flowed along with us and rolled off the eerily silent passing cabs, bringing along the faint scent of earthy iron, tangy warmth, crisp memories, and that underlying stank of sewage that could only be found in this one chaotic city. The streets less crowded than they were earlier; the blaring sounds of the daily grind bustling about now a faint symphony of lingering pedestrians mindfully going about their evenings. Their movements passing around us were slower and not at all the high syncopation of typical New Yorkers. Somehow, it's like we were in a bubble all our own. Floating along the wide, gum covered cement and not a single person daring to pop it.

Absolutely foreign. Never in my life have I encountered New York this... empty . Hell, not even Boston had this kind of clarifying stillness.

I could hear Ethan's faint footfalls against the sidewalk, feel his natural warmth and smell his delight inducing sandalwood cologne as he kept in stride beside me - smaller steps than earlier, of which I was thankful - as we walked back to our hotel in this strange, relative silence. Not as harsh of a quietness like what we were subject to a couple of hours ago, but rather a compassionate one -- I guess?

Maybe I'm making it all up...

I swear both of us had hints of the same smile resting peacefully against our lips. Like the curve was always meant to be there. Like this evening - this dinner - was the start of something new.

Nights like this have never happened back in Boston.

Boston was filled with clandestine moments, secret cases, secret feelings and coursing alcohol. Never had we ever had a night where we just talked. The presence of him and the words that would slip out from his lips every now and then were anything but his constant denials and moral preachings.

Tonight there weren't any underlying hardships. Just a night filled with two people.

Could this be a small jump forward - small taste of the 'future' - an alternate reality I'm living?

If it is then... back to the real world with real responsibilities and real issues in the morning...

Let's not think about that, hm.

We were still walking in tandem, just inches apart. I could brush my wrist against his fingertips. Feel his touch after so long if I dared.

What would he do if I did?

The longer we walked through Midtown the more hordes of busy New Yorkers began to pass by on whatever mission they were on, always going somewhere fast. No chill. Never any chill. These passersby were dwarfed by Ethan's height and parting like the Red Sea by some unknown energy coursing from him - not a single person dared to shove him, nor me by proxy, out of the way.

And even though we weren't talking, for once, we were connecting. More connected to him than all our secrets tied around us. And...

"Ethan..."

I said his name lightly, and with an unwavering assurance that I wasn't being a complete moron . All of the lightness I felt from earlier giving me strength to let the seriousness hidden around the word roll off my tongue.

"Rebecca," he mimicked without any of the same depth.

It was something that should have had my eyes rolling out of my head. The childishness of it all . Still, a betraying hidden smirk crept up at the corner of my lips. I didn't expect anything less than that response to be honest. At least I was getting a response now. To think, just a few days prior he hadn't thrown an acknowledgement or sardonic grumble my way. And now.... Here we were walking around Midtown like friends do!