Layla

Chapter Nine: Memories

Peter's eyes fluttered open; his vision blurry. He cleared his eyes till the blurry spots disappeared, looking directly at an unconscious Layla. She was lying on her back, her head turned towards him. One arm rested on her stomach, while the other rested beside his hand, lightly touching his fingers. Without thinking, Peter slid his hand into Laylas', intertwining her fingers with his. His eyes were fixated on their hands together, and for a brief moment, Peter felt content. His chest swelled with happiness, and while it may have been overcome by the pain that came next, he felt relieved knowing Layla was here by his side. After he saw the blue beams that were shot off by the men, his last thought was about Layla, and how he wasn't fast enough to reach her. He didn't know what was going on, and he was relieved to see Layla here by his side. Though, under the circumstance, he would have preferred if they hadn't taken her.

Peter sighed while happiness and pain swirled inside him. His eyes traveled up to Layla's face, and his heart soared when he saw her. She looked peaceful; content. Her dark brown hair cascaded down, concealing half her face. Keeping his hand linked with hers, he used his other hand to push her hair back behind her ears. Lowering his hand back to the ground, Peter laid there staring at Layla with content eyes. His eyes traced her features, memorizing every detail he had missed. She was beautiful, every inch of her. From her dark brown hair, to her soft pink lips, and yes, her crappy taste in music, which probably remained after nine years.

The pain still resided in Peter's heart, and would remain until he talked to Layla about the accident, but he knew he couldn't stay upset with her. He loved her, even though, she wiped his memories of her. He told himself this once before he left, and he was still thinking about it. He wasn't going to leave Layla's side, and he wasn't going to let her slip from his hands again. This time he would be quick to stop her. He couldn't lose her, and looking at her, reassured that for Peter. She was his missing piece.

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"Are you listening to what I'm saying?" Layla's dad asked in an irritated tone. He stopped walking down the hall of the Pentagon, and looked down at his daughter.

Layla came to a stop, and she tilted her head up, giving her dad a bored look. She shoved her hands in the back of her jean pockets, sighing deeply out loud.

"Yes, dad. I'm listening. Can we return to walking, please?" Layla asked in a bored tone, gesturing her hand down the hall.

Those working at the Pentagon were watching them as they walked by. Some chuckled as they turned, and others raised their eyebrows looking at them questionably. The attention made Layla uneasy, and all she wanted was to move on, while pretending to listen to her dad's history lesson about the Pentagon. For her weekend, her dad suggested she go to D.C. with him, learning about his job. Sure, she didn't have any friends, and remained at the house everyday after school, but her weekend was the time she read, or went out to look for records. That was her weekend plan, but her dad tossed that idea away. He didn't even ask her if she wanted to go. He just told her after she came back from school that she was going to D.C. with him for the weekend.

"And good afternoon to you, dad. Hey there kiddo, want to go to D.C.? I know I didn't ask, but did you say yes? Alrighty, then!" Layla mumbled sarcastically to herself as she trudged upstairs carrying her backpack over her shoulder.

At that her dad suggested that they drive to D.C. instead of fly, and they left that night. Not only did Layla have to quickly finish her homework, but she had to pack, too. Her mother thought it was a terrific idea, and would be great father daughter bonding time. Layla knew her mother was just eager to have the house to herself. Don't get her wrong, Layla loved her parents. It's just the last couple years have been beginning to bother Layla. She was sick of moving constantly, and her dad was rarely home because of his job. Most the time it was her mother and her, and she was tired of them pretending everything was wonderful. Because of this, Layla had started distancing herself from her parents, trying to act like she didn't care. Doing that, and feeling grumpy half the time, it was beginning to show at school. Perhaps, that was why her father had her go to D.C. Maybe, her parents thought she needed to get away. Of course, if this was their idea of getting away, it was failing miserably.