She's holding me tight. Her arms are wrapped around my body, trying to make me feel better. It's just me and her in the room. She sent everyone else away. I'm grateful for it, but it's not helping. The memories I just gained back are too painful. I want to forget them again. My mother's blood on my hands is the worst one of them all. That's why she was haunting me for the past few weeks. The thought of her makes me cry even harder. I killed my own mother and then forgot about her.
"I'm here, Anaïs," Lea whispers into my ear, "we'll get through it."
She places a gentle kiss on my head. It makes me feel even worse. My mind goes back to our first kiss. I promised her and myself that I would never forget the moment. And I did. God, I'm a horrible human being.
"I'm so sorry, Lea." I manage to say through sobs.
"Don't be," she strokes my hair, "it's not your fault."
"It is. Everything is." My voice cracks and I bury my face in her chest. She realizes that no amount of words can help me so she holds me even tighter instead. My body feels warm where my skin meets hers. I close my eyes and concentrate on the sensation. I missed her touch. Taking a deep breath in I realize she still uses the same perfume. The vanilla scent reminds me of our peaceful times. We weren't always this messy. The world just had other plans.
"I missed this," Lea admits, "I mean having you in my arms, not you crying."
It makes me chuckle.
"I missed it too. Deep down. I always felt like something wasn't right. But I couldn't put my finger on it." It's true. I never understood why my bed felt empty when I woke up, why I always felt so lonely. Now I know. And I'm not planning to let go. Not again.
"Lea?" I look into her sapphire eyes.
"Yes, Anaïs?" she wipes my tears away.
"Don't ever let me do such a stupid thing as I did in Paris."
"Oh trust me," she smiles at me, "I won't. I love you too much for that." The sentence slipped out of her mouth. She realized it when it was already out. Her eyes widen. Even if I have my memories back, I'm still a different person than I used to be. She knows it. We both know it. The atmosphere gets a bit uncomfortable.
"I..." I try to say something, but she interrupts me:
"No, it's okay. You don't have to say anything, we can just pretend I didn't say that." A nervous laugh escapes her throat.
"I don't want to pretend." I object, "I love you, Lea. But I understand that I'm not the person you once fell for." It's just the truth. Another painful truth. They tore us apart and it won't ever be the same. Lea sighs, but it seems more like a relief sigh.
"I never stopped loving you, Anaïs, I'm sorry if I made you feel another way."
That's all I need to hear. Without realizing it, I'm suddenly so close to her. I can feel her breath on my cheeks. Holding me tight, she's looking down at me. I know this look, I know what's about to happen and I have to control myself not to rush it. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear. Her eyes never leave mine. It's me who breaks eye contact with a glance at her lips. I place my hand behind her neck and she stops breathing for a second. I haven't lost my magic.
"Wait," Lea hesitates when she leans in and rests her forehead on mine, "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," I nod, "are you?"
She doesn't answer. Instead, her lips crash onto mine. And oh my, the desire, the passion, the urge, I feel it all. I'm not sure how long I was gone, but god it feels like too long. My fingers trace through her red hair. Hers, on the other hand, slip under my shirt. Carefully, she takes it off me and tosses it aside. My whole body is longing for her. Saying that I'm burning is an understatement. She moves her kisses to my neck, then to my collarbone. Just as she's about to rip the pants off me, someone interrupts us.
"Jeez, get a room, you two." says Oliver and quickly turns around.
"To be fair, we had a room." I can't hide the sassiness in my tone, "You're the one who never learned how to knock."
"It's nice to see you too, Sis." Olivier talks back.
"Okay, Blanchards," Lea interrupts us and gets out of bed, "I'm done here."
She grabs Olivier's hand when she's passing by him and drags him out of the room. Olivier tries to protest, but she's too strong. When the door closes behind them, I'm left alone. I get up to find my shirt but my eyes get stuck on a mirror. I don't want to look at my reflection, but my curiosity wins. The eyes that used to be amber are now a shade of yellow. The other thing I notice is how my wound was treated. Someone did a really good job with the bandage. I touch the place where I was shot and I immediately recognize the feel of stitches. Another scar to my collection.
"I thought you lost your wife." I hear Olivier mocking Lea behind the door.
"Why are we speaking English?" Lea asks him.
"Do you want everyone here to know, that you just fucked the enemy?"
"We didn't..." I can feel the second-hand embarrassment.
"Lea, I'm kidding." Olivier's tone changes, "Seriously though, I thought you hated her."
"She got her memories back. You should go talk to her." Lea says. I hear her footsteps as they move away and Olivier enters the room. When he sees me standing there shirtless, he turns around and sighs.
"You can put some clothes on, Lea's not coming back." he laughs.
I grab the shirt and carefully put it back on.
"You can turn around again." I say and he does so. His eyes meet mine and a long silence follows. Neither of us knows what to say. We didn't end on good terms before I got here. And my memories coming back only make things more awkward.
"So..." Olivier breaks the ice, "a clinical death helped you get your memories. That's interesting."
"I was dead?" I don't even try to hide the shock.
"For five minutes, yeah." Olivier says.
"We need to talk." I take a deep breath.
"And what are we doing now?" Olivier winks at me. I roll my eyes at him. I've always hated when I try to be serious and someone is making fun of the situation. I'm all for humor, but it has its limits.
"I mean talk about mom." I say.
Olivier walks past me. I hit a nerve. He still hasn't forgiven me.
"Look," I take a few steps closer to him, "I get it. I haven't forgiven myself either. I fucked up. But you know what was worse than burying my own mother? Knowing that my brother hates me because of it. You were the only family I had left. And suddenly, you were gone. Then the Brits attacked and I lost everything I cared for. And you? You couldn't even pick up the stupid phone!"
He hugs me before I can continue. Tears try to find their way to my eyes, but I've cried my heart out just a moment ago. There are no tears left to cry.
"I'm sorry, Anaïs." Olivier's voice cracks, "I was weak, but I'm here now. And I'm not going away."
"Promise?" I ask.
"Promise."
YOU ARE READING
The Police dog syndrome
Science Fiction2-A-64 is an experiment that was meant to be the new weapon against terrorists. At least that's what she was supposed to be until a small error occurred in one of the simulations. What if the whole truth cannot be further away from what she knows? A...
