Remembering US

Chapter 7: Glimpses of You

The nights in Purgatory had always been a blend of serene silence and whispered secrets, but for Nicole, they had become a canvas for her subconscious, painting images of a life she could not remember. Among these nocturnal visions, one figure appeared more frequently than any other: a brunette-haired angel who seemed to embody both peace and longing. The dreams were vivid, filled with emotions Nicole couldn't quite understand, yet they left her with a sense of warmth that lingered long after she woke up.

Each dream was a puzzle piece, a fragment of a life Nicole yearned to understand. She would wake up with her heart aching, a name on the tip of her tongue that she couldn't quite recall. The red-haired angel in her dreams felt familiar, a presence that filled her with an inexplicable sense of home and safety. This emotional paradox was both comforting and distressing, a reminder of what she had lost and what she desperately needed to find.

Compelled by these dreams, Nicole began to sketch. Her hands moved almost of their own accord, guided by the vivid memories of her dreams. The face that took shape on the paper was beautiful, with kind eyes that seemed to look right through her, a gentle smile that promised no judgment, and hair that cascaded like a fiery waterfall. Even on paper, the image had a life of its own, emanating a warmth that Nicole felt deep in her bones.

One afternoon, as the sun bathed the room in a golden light, Waverly walked in to find Nicole absorbed in her sketching. Curious, Waverly approached, her heart skipping a beat when she saw what Nicole was drawing. It was her own face, captured with an intimacy and affection that took her breath away. The realization that Nicole was dreaming of her, even if she didn't remember, filled Waverly with a bittersweet mixture of hope and sorrow.

Waverly's presence startled Nicole, who quickly tried to hide the sketch, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "It's just something from my dreams," Nicole murmured, unable to meet Waverly's eyes. Waverly, however, gently took Nicole's hand, encouraging her to share. "It's beautiful," Waverly whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Nicole looked up, searching Waverly's face for a sign of recognition, a clue to the puzzle of her dreams.

The moment was charged with an unspoken connection, a thread of familiarity and longing that tethered them. Waverly fought the urge to reach out, to bridge the gap between them with a touch, a word, anything that might bring Nicole back to her. But she held back, fearing that pushing too hard might shatter the fragile bond that was re-forming between them.

Instead, Waverly chose to nurture that bond with patience and love. "Tell me about your dreams," she encouraged Nicole, settling beside her. As Nicole shared the fragments of her dreams, Waverly listened intently, her heart aching with love for the woman before her. With each word, Waverly realized that their connection ran deeper than memory, that their souls recognized each other even when the mind did not.

The sketches became a silent language between them, a way for Nicole to express the emotions and memories she couldn't yet understand. For Waverly, they were a promise, a sign that the Nicole she loved was still there, waiting to be found. And as they sat together in the soft light of the afternoon, a new layer of intimacy wrapped around them, woven from dreams, drawings, and the unyielding hope that love would guide them back to each other.