Trouvaille (#featured)

· e i g h t e e n ·

The television had been turned off for quite some time, but Faye could hear the echo of Nathan's younger voice as he spoke in the video. She toyed with the bracelet the old chief's wife gave her as she contemplated on everything that had happened.

He had loved her ever since, and she knew that he still did. Her body could still remember his touches and, more importantly, the kiss they shared. Without thinking, she gave into him – surrendered her first experiences to him – and she enjoyed every moment of it. As much as she would publicly deny it, she could not deny it to herself. She had tried to shut the memory out, but her dreams reminded her, and if sleep refused to come, her memories would drift toward the experience.

There was a reason why she had never considered romance. It was too illogical and too unexpected. It was something she could not plan for and neither was it something that she could control. More importantly, she had always had an ideal guy and the current Nathan fit the bill. She had not realized it the moment she laid eyes on him because of the bad memories he had left with her. But when she thought about it, he was everything he could ever ask for.

Someone who she could rely on in her weakest moments. Someone who understood her.

Someone who could love her for everything she was, despite knowing everything about her.

And that someone was waiting for her at the lobby, suffering needlessly. All he had ever done was to try and please her, but all he ever got from her was venom and doubt.

She reached for her phone and heard nothing. Not even a dial tone. She pressed the plunger, but still nothing happened. She stared at the phone for quite a while before remembering she had disconnected it. Her shaking hands reached for the line and it took quite a while before she got the cord into its slot and with a press of a button, the phone sprang to life and she immediately rang for the lobby.

"Dave..." her voice sounded cracked and hoarse, "Send him up."

"Ms. Westbrook?" Dave, the front-desk man, sounded confused.

"Send him up."

"Um, the guy from the Fed?"

"Yes!" Her voice broke even more as she realized that she was crying again. Unable to keep her composure any longer, she put the receiver down and rushed to the bathroom and washed her face. What she needed was to clear her mind. There must be some logical way of approaching and solving the whole thing. There always was.

A rap on her door shook her back into reality. If they already up, then she had taken such a long time staring at her reflection. She wiped her face and scrunched her face in disgust. Her face was red and her eyes were swollen.

In haste, she put on her sunglasses and answered the door, saying nothing as she motioned for him to enter and sat herself on the couch.

Nathan followed her tentatively. And by the look on his face, it was obvious he had been battered down. He was pale and looked as if he had not slept for days. His face was lined with worry and he still looked confused and at a loss. He looked at the unfinished jacked on the table and looked back at her.