PETER IS BACK! On Friday morning, I opened my door at the sound of a knock. Peter was standing there, looking desperate. “Please,” he pleaded, “Just one kiss for a poor beau who hasn’t seen his belle in days.” He stretched out the word ‘days’ making it seem like he had been gone for a century. I nodded, grinning, and let him in where I happily complied. “Where’ve you been?” I asked when I pulled away after a few moments. “My father sent a telegram asking me to come home for a few days,” “Oh. I knew he was lying!” I muttered, though for some reason, I felt as though I was wrong. “Who?” he questioned. “No one,” I lied. My stomach turned. “Are you sure?” he asked, leaning closer. I nodded, stomach almost giving in. He nodded too, fingers grazing my cheek, tilting my jaw up to close the distance once more. I stood there, draping my arms around his neck, thinking of nothing but how excited I was that Peter was back! Peter pulled away as though he were pondering something. I gave him a questioning look. When he saw my puzzled face, one of his hands left my waist and cupped my chin. He gave me a comforting smile, though I’m not quite sure why. He coughed, and stepped away. “I… uh…” I stood there, silently staring into his bottomless eyes. He coughed again. “I’ve been…” he hesitated. “I’ve been called to fight in the war,” he said in a rush. I felt my eyes go wide, my vision blurring slightly. “What? No, you can’t fight!” I yelled, starting to pace, throat searing as I tried to gulp the tears down. “I’m sorry, Hana,” he said. I noted the use of my real name instead of my nickname. “I can’t control it. That’s why my father told me to come home for a few days.” I shook my head. “I don’t want you to go,” I whispered, still shaking my head as a slow stream of water threatened to run down my cheeks. He stepped closer, grabbing my hand in his. “It’s going to be fine,” I continued to shake my head, eyes burning for me to give in to the tears. I did, crying silently into his shoulder, breathing in his smell while I still could. “Do you want me to stay with you the entire day again? You can cut back on your chores,” I nodded, pulling in breath after breath in order to pull this moment into my memories. He sat on my cot, pulling me onto his lap. I didn’t get off this time, and curled up in his arms, leaning my head against his chest. His rested chin on my head. He stroked my hair. I sighed happily, my breath still weak from crying. “Are you thirsty?” he asked after a few silent moments. I nodded, my throat feeling too swollen for talk. Peter smiled, and picked me up so he could stand, and placed me gently on the bed. He went to the corner where I kept a full pitcher and a cup. He poured the water, making a sound like a trickle of water going down the rocks. I groaned. Peter turned his back to me, flashing another smile as he did so. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but he turned back around and gave me the cool water. I lapped it up gratefully, my senses failing as the water went into my system. My hearing muffled, and my vision blurred out. I groped for something that would let me know that Peter was still there, but I couldn’t feel anything. Even the cot I was sitting on. Nothing. What’s happened to me? I thought, still fumbling for the feeling of anything. I was engulfed in darkness. I remained like that all day, my body cuddled on my cot, moaning for something — anyone — to help me. My thoughts, however, were trained elsewhere. Bert and home. Zarola, Ann, Braden. Peter. Deep blue eyes, dusty blonde hair, the smell of bread. Strong arms, warm. Safe. I thought, suckering at the memory of our first kiss. Cold, supposedly threatened Bert. I couldn’t stop thinking. I started thinking of things that described me at that moment. It was the only thing I could really do; think. Empty, numb, lonely. Cold, dark, bored. Memories ran across my mind, making me choke up. “Javernick. Elbert Javernick.” Bert said nervously. “Nice to meet you, Master Javernick,” I had said, blushing, giving a small curtsy. “I am no master,” he said. I blushed harder, looking down. “You may call me Bert.” I smiled in my numb state as more memories came up. “Sunshine…” Peter said. “What?” “Sunshine, isn’t it?” I shook my head. “No, I’m Hana.” “Sunshine.” he insisted.
Read ^ first! ----------------------------------------------------------------------- My eyes went wide, and I shook my head. Then, a memory I hadn’t placed there came through. It wasn’t even mine! I didn’t know where it came from. Bert pulled me into the light of the chandelier, pushing me against the cold stone walls. He tilted my chin up. I didn’t understand what was going on, so asked, “What’s wrong?” and placed my hands on his shoulders. He shrugged them off, and took them to position them on his chest as he edged closer to me. “Nothing,” he leaned into me. I could feel his heart beating, hard, as he pressed his lips against mine. Warmth, not cold, spread through my body, and out into my limbs. I pulled away, a question on my tongue. Bert planted a kiss on my cheek. I fell silent, not knowing what he was doing. He kissed everywhere on my face before finding my lips. The warmth spread through me again, tears threatening my eyes. “Sorry,” I sniffed. “Sorry!” “What are you sorry for?” Bert said, a look of concern in his eyes. “Don’t you think…” I trailed off, motioning to my red nose, and streaming eyes. He shook his head. I gulped, and my fingers slowly started regaining feeling. Why did a memory that isn’t even mine show up? I thought. We are just friends, and Bert doesn’t like me for anything but that! I certainly don’t. Feeling rushed through my body, and I felt the cold stone floor on my cheek. I must’ve fallen off. I thought again. I searched the darkness for Peter, but still couldn’t find him, saddening, I sank to my cot. ------------------------------------------------------------------ I am... coughing. She's slowly falling for our Louie!!!!!!!! EEEEEEE! That memory she never placed. That will happen sometime in the future!! HUZZAH. Sometimes, I have weird dreams like that, where there is something that happens in the future, and I'm like: I had a dream about this! So that's my reasoning for her having that memory/dream thingy. Any theories? OREO OUT
