Transported

Chapter 2

It was comforting.

The darkness.

The only thing Tahira could interpret around her was darkness. She could feel her limbs and extremities. Somehow, by some miracle, they seemed to be unscathed by the fall.

"Tahira?" A voice called in the distant darkness. It sounded vaguely familiar. Just vaguely, though, and the darkness stayed.

It cacooned her in safety.

Silence.

Calm.

Bliss.

"Tahira!" The voice was actively annoying her now. Threatening to rip the darkness away from her like a blanket on a winters night.

Her mind fought against the intrusion.

"Tahira!" It failed.

Her mind filled with the moments before the fall... the church... the man... the walls.

"You know, Avery," she drawled with her eyes still closed, "I was actually enjoying that."

Avery looked down at her in confusion. His brain could not fathom what she meant by that. Then her eyes fluttered open, and all his brain activity seized.

Her eyes were brown. An enchanting shade that Avery had not yet encountered in his life. Her deep dark pools are encircled with copper-flecks, or it might be golden. Her eyes narrowed suddenly and met his blue ones with such a fierceness that Avery almost stepped back.

"Can you please stop looking at me like I grew a second head?" Tahira growled as she pushed herself into a seated position.

She recognized the room immediately. She was back in the room at the top of the tower. She stiffened her shoulders, rejecting the intense feeling of defeat that threatened to slump them.

"How did I get back here?" She asked softly.

"I'm not merely sure," he answered as he moved to the window, "you fell, then disappeared from sight."

He looked down to the busy street that Tahira claimed was her home and sighed as the memory of that moment overtook him.

"When I turned around," he continued as he turned to face her, "I found you here on the floor."

"But, the scratch?" Tahira responded, confused. She clearly remembered the blood trinkling down. She remembered the moment that her hand met his face. That scar doesn't look like it just happened today. It looks older. Healed.

Impossible.

Avery touched his face in memory, unsure of what happened to the wound himself. He remembered it as well as she did.

He will never forget the determination Tahira showed when she jumped back into her world. He could envision her mangled body splayed out on the floor as clear as if it really happened. He still can't believe she was sitting there with all her limbs intact.

She really wanted to go back there. Back to the magical land that he could see from the window. So badly, that she could have died.

Yet.

There, she sat calmly. Not a fazed bone in her body. Not a bruise.

And, he's pretty sure, given another opportunity, that she will surely try to jump again. His body instinctively filled the window frame, consciously blocking her next attempt.

Tahira laughed, then. Her hard face lighting up. Her eyes wrinkled on the outsides, and to Avery, it seemed, for the first time that day, that she had no troubles.

"You're were looking at me like I had to be committed," she laughed. She stared back up at him, and her laughter stopped short.

She was sure that he wasn't looking at her like she's a crazy person anymore. His blue eyes were filled with something that Tahira found to be unrecognizable. His lips are shaped into what can only be described as a magnetic smile. Was it wonder?

'No, it can't possibly be,' Tahira's intrusive thoughts insisted. 'He's laughing at you, you crazy person.'

Avery watched her amusement turn into bewilderment. His smile faded completely when her bewilderment snapped suddenly into scorn. She jerked her eyes off of his face and violently shoved her hands into the floor hard enough to push her up.

"I'm not crazy!" Tahira whispered. Her eyes found his again. Avery struggled to keep eye contact. The scorn in her eyes had made way for a deep, unrelenting sadness. Sadness he couldn't bare see. He gasped as his chest constricted with emotion, but he steadied his gaze as his head processed what was said.

"You're not crazy," he responded calmly.

"Yeah, right," she laughed again. This time, it didn't reach her eyes or lighten her face.

"You're not crazy," Avery repeated again.

"Have you looked around you?" She shouted in response. "Look! I'm stuck in a 16th-century castle with a 16th-century street rat! Out of that window, I can clearly see my world, my people, my home!" She threw her arms up in frustration and let out a feral scream from deep inside her before she collapsed to her knees. "Look!" She continued with tears streaming down her cheeks, in an hourse whisper, "I jumped out of that window. I should be there. Dead even! Not here! Yet, here I am. I don't understand..."

"I don't understand, either," he said when her last word was merely an echo. She covered her face with her hands and breathed in a heart-shattering sob.

Her crying stopped all too sudden. Avery could only stare as Tahira jumped up and ran to the window. She climbed onto the windowsill and looked down into the world she came from. Tears continued to stream down her face as she thought about jumping again.

He moved forward slowly, compelled to wrap his arms around her. He needed to pick her up into his arms and hold her close. But he didn't. He stopped a foot away from where she was and held out his hand towards her.

She closed her eyes. Maybe just maybe it will work this time. But something told her to turn and look behind her. She looked back at his outstretched hand, her chest still heaving with uncontrolled emotions. Then, she looked at his face.

She grew up in a world where men didn't look at her tears with anything but disgust or anger. It surprised her to see worry there.

She looked back at his hand as she took some control of her breathing. He pulled his hand back a centimeter, hesitation evident in his stance.

Tahira furrowed her brow, confused by the panic his actions inspired in her. She wasn't afraid of him coming towards her. She was afraid of him moving away.

Without another thought, she quickly placed her hand in his and waited.

Avery looked at their hands in shock. He offered it instinctively. And now that her hand is in his, he wasn't quite sure what to do with it. His eyes traced her arm up to her face. Their eyes met.

What he saw in her eyes eased his worry. She was back. He gently pulled her hand towards him, leaving it up to her to get down towards him or let go.

She fought against the pull for a second but then changed her mind and decided to step down. She faced him.

'What is he going to do next?' She wondered as she stared at their entwined hands.

He pulled her hand gently towards him, again.

She moved closer, again.

There they stood. Less than a breath between them.