Quiet Night
#16277


by Amari


"Nonetheless, darling, it is a lovely night for a storm. I don't care who said it first." The one at the window stated.
Crysta poked herself around the corner, eyebrows raised, and looked him up and down, "you don't even compare ."

I can't say I wasn't warned. I knew it was an attack when it came, but love is sometimes much stronger than the four winds themselves can imagine.

. It was a little less than a year ago today at this time of night that I last saw him. He wanted me back and only Heaven's Wings saved me from going. I'll never know how I said "no" to him. I think it must have been the last thing he ever said to me while being completely whole. He lovingly admonished me to leave him and never come back -- not even venturing a peek -- or he and those who had hired him to be with me would tear my world to pieces.

. It was really quite obvious that they had already been doing rather alot of the same business. But I didn't go then, and I'm not really even sorry that I stayed. I was with the only man I hoped to ever love, and loving it; basking in his returned glances; weeping as the moments ended, yet rejoicing that there would be another.

. All of my "moments" -- I had thought -- ran out that last time almost a year ago tonight, but no. I had yet to see the man become a living sheol*: monument to all profane astral travel, and fine example of the worst of that lifestyle. He'd destroyed himself so that he would not need to watch me be destroyed. But when I bailed out I began to pray for him and it was almost a year ago tonight that I got the first miniscule signs that my prayers were effective:

. He'd called me into the Multi-Universal Conference Room to ask me to return. I know they had to force him to do it because when he attempted to coerce me back by a kiss (the kiss of fate, as it were) there was not a thing within him that really wanted my return. I know this because we were lovers, and we knew each others' very souls. Also, before I'd left him to that they had to do this he would have been able to at least fake if not torture to the surface a desire as such. And he would -- either way -- know that I would look for that as a sign.

. Anyway , I don't even know what made me leave him originally, but that was the thing that made me so I will never regret the decision.

. But last night he came here again, I think, and asked me if I would die for his life. I don't know exactly why, but I believe it was raening. He'd always wanted some force, such as raening, to intervene and prove to us both that our love was for real. Raening is like a type of death call. One person must agree to die so that the other may live. You cannot lie -- if you really love the person -- and say that you will not, when love requires that you must. The ironic thing is that once you have agreed to die for the other, the other dies. I could not lie, and so I told him that I would do anything to let him live. Anything . That is to say, even letting him say that he would not let me die so that I would die. I thought he would say the same thing in return, but I do not think he did aloud even if he did say such; he voiced nothing, and he is gone. I say now "for the last time" because I am healthy today.

. The night before tonight I believe I saw the man who taught me how to love and loved him in the way he needed. I do not regret this.

. We spoke, and now it is so silent.

.

. Michael placed his hands on the windowsill and leaned forward. "I'm serious, my love"

. Crysta walked over to his side and looked down at the city-to-suburbia contrasting view, then up to the sky. There were clouds -- but there were always clouds -- and it smelled like rain. They both loved rain.

. He put his arm around her shoulders and said, "It is such a quiet night."

.

*Sheol. the grave, death, dying. Hebrew. 1