(This is sad. Skip if you don't want sad. I was in a mood)
His knee bounced up and down nervously, his mind racing and hands fidgeting. He couldn’t sit still, like a wind up toy that had just been released by a child. The waiting was hard, far harder than the shock of the scene. Her smile. The look of adoration. Her eyes rolled back. The convulsions. The chaos as he was pushed from the room.
Time flows differently when you’re waiting, he thought, as if the sands in the hourglass slowed their pace, no longer affected by such trivialities as gravity. The woman next to him put a hand on his knee, stopping his movement. Looking up, she smiled at him.
“Times like these are little gifts,” she said, her magic radiating warmth and comfort, and yet, he could see the cracks. It was difficult, between the women in the family he’d fallen into, to see the imperfections. The little details that made you realize how very much like everyone else they were. Like now, how her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. How the vein in her temple beat faster than normal. Or how, just beyond the surface of her comforting gaze, for brief moments, extreme worry would surface.
“I don’t see how that’s possible,” he said. “I’m going mad with worry.” She squeezed his knee before patting it gently.
“The waiting gives you time,” she said.
“Time for what?” he asked, harsher than intended, though he had neither the will nor the energy to correct himself. In a blink, the universe had transformed the joy into horror, the pride into strange anger. It tasted bitter, he realized idly.
“To reflect,” she said softly. “To remember what you’ve got, where you’ve been, and where you’ve still yet to go.” He gave a short, humorless laugh.
“To understand what could be taken from me,” he hissed. She placed a hand on his forearm and gave it a squeeze, shaking her head.
“No, to realize how much more there is to life than the here and now. How it’s not just about where you are, what’s going on, or what may be to come in this moment.” Her words were blunt, but not hurtful, as she did her best to keep her own pain from spilling over to him. “It gives you time to remember that life is about our experiences and the memories we share, and that nothing, not even this, can take that away from you.”
The two fell silent, the ticking of the clock on the wall the only sound in the large, secluded hallway, its hands moving forward with practiced rhythm. Always forward, no matter the circumstance.
Slowly, his mind drifted away from the closed oak door, to a rain soaked summer night, so very long ago, a silver blonde beauty standing in his doorway, asking for a place to stay, a small child on her hip. To the coffee and whiskey they had shared, two friends not yet knowing they would become lovers.
The loveliest flower. The scent of cinnamon. The way she would lose herself in researching the latest curse, an ink stain making its way to the tip of her nose each time. Moonlight strolls through the city, neither speaking as they enjoyed the quiet company. How she’d mutter words in her foreign tongue as she patched up his latest cuts.
A friendly hug. A playful bump of the shoulder. A look of desire. A passionate kiss. The feeling of unconditional love.
As the clock continued to tick, his chest constricted, and he thought he would pass out, before the feeling faded and he felt…lighter.
He shifted to a little girl with strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes. Her devilish smile. Her shriek of delight as he carried her down the stairs for fresh cookies. Lazy Saturday mornings sitting on the couch, bundled beneath too many blankets, reading her favorite book. The picture of an angel as her grandfather carried her away with the promise to be back in the morning.
Finally, he thought of the little girl he’d glimpsed, her first cries in this strange world echoing through his mind like music at an opera. Her emerald green eyes shining in the light and the kicking of her legs as she made herself known. A beautiful new flower, finally sprouting.
His musings were interrupted as the oak door opened and the healer stepped out, making her way over. He stood and looked at her…and he knew. She didn’t need to say it, didn’t need to explain it. He knew. A sob echoed beside him briefly, and he nearly joined in the chorus, but their conversation had sparked something inside of him. Changed his perspective. As the clock on the wall struck midnight, he realized there would be time later for him to dwell upon it.
For now, he simply sunk back into his seat and wrapped the woman beside him in a hug, understanding that there were others who would need him. His family would look to him for guidance, for a beacon in the darkness as the world got just a bit dimmer.
Despite the circumstance, he smiled, a memory bubbling to the surface. It was fall, the leaves in the park drifting towards the ground, laughter ringing out as they chased each other between the trees and bushes, like two children playing tag on a beautiful day in October. He caught her, she shrieked, and they rolled to the ground. His smile deepened as a single tear escaped the corner of his eye.
He’d take what he could right now, and the small gift of waiting was exactly what he’d needed.