Keanu watches Sandra dance with the giddiness of a little girl, excited to go sledding. "Guess we better head to the ski shop and pick up something warmer."
Later in the day...
They had a wonderful time walking around the village shopping, just acting normal. She no longer waited for him to offer his arm as they walked, she'd automatically reach for it. Nor did she make a fuss when he picked up their shopping bags, her injury made it a moot point. She sank into this comfort of mutual respect and caring, growing closer to the one she'd soon be falling for on a speeding bus. With a bomb. As one does. She laughs to herself at the very premise of that plot. They walk back toward the chalet, talking about absolute mundane topics when—
CRASH!
He is shocked by the freezing sensation sliding down the side of his face where a pancake of crushed white flakes now lays. He stops in his tracks, turning to face Sandra as if he needed a witness to verify what had just happened. First came giant eyes, then she tries to stifle a giggle, watching as a chunk drops down inside his collar. She turns to help him brush it off when—
SMACK!
A globe of snow explodes on her forehead, her mouth falling wide open. She looks down, scattered flakes cover her coat.
"Cold. Cold! COLD!!!" Keanu screeches, jumping up and down and pulling at his neck as the freezing ice slips deeper into his shirt.
Sandra is wiping snow off of her face, smearing her mascara, when they hear some giggling. She stops, searching for the source of the sound. Keanu sees her creep away and follows her to a small bush about ten feet away. Hiding behind the bush are three kids around eight years old.
Sandra looks at Keanu and he looks at her. "Those little punks," she mutters, grinning wide.
Keanu doesn't hear because he is already gathering what he can find to create an arsenal from the fairly light, fluffy snowfall. He motions for her to duck behind another bush with him, where they sit, forming their ammunition and peering through the leaves. They see a little boy peek up over the bush wondering where they'd gone. Keanu goes full soldier mode, motioning to Sandra and holding his fingers up for commands, mouthing: "One, Two, THREE!"
They launch their ammunition at the unsuspecting third graders, showing no mercy. The fight went on for a good twenty minutes, with joyful battle calls and red faces on both sides. The kids retreat and Sandra and Keanu find themselves leaning back on their numb hands, their clothes wet, their sides aching. They take each other in: his shirt is soaked, she has locks of hair stuck to her face and streaks of black under her eyes. It was the best moment either had had in months.
He hops to his feet, stretching his hand out to help her up, when he realizes his beanie is missing. Turning to find it, he reveals a big clump of mud and leaves stuck to his behind. Without hesitation, she reaches out to brush it off his partially numb body when he whips around.
"Did you just cop a feel?" He asks, straight-faced.
"No! I mean, you had mud...." She holds up the clump of debris in her defense until she notices his grin and throws the mud to the ground, one hand firmly stacked on her hip. "I see what you did right there. Well-played, little Keester."
They continue their walk home, completely at ease with each other, not caring how disheveled they appear, not thinking of how deep their conversation went the night before, not even worrying about the elephant in the room: What is she going to do about Nathan?
~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*
Back at the chalet, they set their shopping bags down and climb the stairs together to change into fresh clothes. They are jovial, full of laughter and gentle teasing. Her phone rings as they reach the top. Flipping it open, she sees a London number on the screen. A quick look at Keanu tells her he saw it too. He motions towards his room to let her know he'd give her privacy.
"Hello?" She answers.
He continues to his door and pauses, hand on the doorknob, corners of his mouth slanted down. Exhaling deeply, he is flooded with flashes of the joy disappearing from her face last night in the bar, replaced by pain and humiliation; flashes of blood spilling from her hand, her pleading, bloodshot eyes on the brink of bursting. He has grown to care for her in the past few days and he does not like to see the people he cares about suffer. Aware there is nothing he can do to change her circumstance, a resolve comes over him.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, she listens to Nathan ramble. He is full of explanations: for his interview, for his absence, for his actions and inactions.
Nathan: Oh that was just schmoozing.
Just playing the role, you know how that goes.
Sandra: I called. You didn't pick up. Where were you?
Nathan: You know, we're just promoting. You
know how it goes, Sandy. Don't be mad, this is the job.
His words pass through her, having no effect. Then comes a rush of thoughts: Does she believe him? Does she care? Does she want to end the relationship or remain in the shadow of the familiar? Does she want to make a choice? Does it matter at all? It'd be easier to put one foot ahead of the other and just keep going. She was...comfortable.
Dressed in fresh clothes, Keanu strolls down the hall, past her cracked door where he sees her leaning against the bed and can't help but overhear:
Sandra: Uh-huh, yeah. Yeah. A few more days. Uh-huh. I love you, too.
He frowns, overcome with feelings of protection. I cannot make the choice for another, he reminds himself as he stands tall and walks down the stairs.
Sandra changes out of her wet, muddy clothes and takes another look in the mirror. She sees a drowned poodle in her reflection. A drowned, goth poodle, with streaks of black smeared onto her skin. She splashes cold water onto her face and removes the mascara residue before making her way downstairs.
"I hope you like Chinese," he tosses out, filling their plates. She quietly thanks him and sits down, preoccupied.
"You okay?" he asks.
"Yep. Misunderstanding," she shrugs, forcing a smile.
His eyebrows lower, but he says nothing.
Tomorrow is their last day and night in Colorado. She will spend the following days learning how to drive a bus, then rehearsals start. Before long they'll be filming. She looks down at her hand, caressing the bandage. This is the job, she reminds herself.
~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*
*Paraphrased/inspired by actual newscast
YOU ARE READING
The Beginning
Fanfiction"Come here," his voice is gentle again. She gives in, placing her small hand in his. Lifting the cloth, he sees her blood spill out from her palm. He inhales sharply through his teeth and presses the rag back down. They sit there like that for abo...
Ch 6 - The ambush
Start from the beginning
