Mood:  hungry

She sat relaxed, early in the morning, with the TV on and her computer in her lap. She wondered if he would reply, knowing that he woudn't. It was quite obvious he was sleeping, his time was different than hers. The last note she'd gotten from him was 4 am her time, a time she had been sleeping. It was thoroughly unfortunate, she would have stayed up just to talk to him. The news caught her attention for a moment. A shooter in a mall. She shook her head. If they were going to commit suicide they should just do it. Anyone who commits suicide in public really wants to be stopped, she thought. She again looked at the time. Still, he was probably sleeping. She didn't blame him. She happened to really like talking to him. It wasn't an obsessive need to talk to him, it was just that she enjoyed his humor, his wit, and he usually made her smile. She never left a conversation feeling down, but was usually sorry to have to leave. The fact that she didn't know what he thought of her kept her on her toes occasionally but he didn't seem the judging type. She wanted to get to know him well. She had a feeling he would be an excellent friend and she wanted to be in on that. She didn't have to worry about starting a conversation with him like she did others either. He usually started the conversation with her, and when she started it with him he never acted like he didn't want to talk to her, like others sometimes did. A twinge of hunger caught her attention and she realized she hadn't had anything to eat yet that day. With that thought, she wandered out to the kitchen to catch some breakfast.

Mood:  sharp

As he turned and walked away, she paused, waited a moment, then stepped forward, torn between quiet and speaking.

            “Wait!” She cried. He stopped, half-turned, looking over his shoulder. From his combat boots to name tag he looked like the soldier he was. She sighed, looked down. He continued on his way. She changed her mind and took off after him. She caught up and tugged on his hand.

            “Please…oh please,” she pleaded, “don’t go. Don’t leave, I need you.” Both had stopped walking at this point. “The way you are now. If you go, you’ll change. Things will be so different…things will have changed.

            He shook her off him. “You’re crazy. Everything will be fine, and you? You’ll be just fine.”

            He wandered through the auto show, looking for the spruced up Cougar he knew would be parked somewhere near the back. After looking through every car at the show he wondered if he’d been led astray. The slightly worn fatigues had been drawing looks the entire time he’d been at the show. He was on his way out when a slender woman dressed in all black with slim black glasses caught his attention She was seated on the hood of a midnight-black Skyline. With smoked headlight covers and dark black tint, it was a startling contrast to the flame-red Cobalt parked next to it. Blue ground effects glowed underneath the Skyline, and “SKYLINE” was decaled across the windshield in blue.

            “Hey soldier, you look lost,” her voice sounded slightly familiar but it had a slightly musical edge. Her tone had a closed finality to it. She slid off the car’s hood and walked toward the soldier gracefully. Her dark red hair had thick slashes of back through it and blue highlights to match the car slid though the black. She reached him and paused. “You really lost or are you just looking for someone?” She queried softly.

            “Looking for someone. Seen any Cougars around here? Maybe with a real cocky driver? Then again, she may be depressed, I never know which.”

            The woman looked over her glasses at him, blue-green eyes icy. “Didn’t the military teach you respect, soldier?” Her tone gave away nothing.

            “Yes ma’am.” He replied automatically.

            “I think you’ve found her. Welcome home, soldier.” She held out her hand and he took it. The handshake was firm, brief. She turned and got a few steps away before he spoke once again.

            “That’s all? Nothing more?” he was slightly confused.

            The woman paused and looked over her shoulder, hair whirling and settling gently on her shoulders. “I tried to warn you that you would lose me.”

            “You were always stubborn, I figured you’d be fine.”

            “Remember what I said?”

            “Which part?” He couldn’t forget.

            “Things have changed.” She turned her back and continued walking toward the car.

            As the engine started and revved, the soldier shook his head. “Things have changed…”

Mood:  irritated

The phone began to ring loudly. She looked at it, read the name, and pressed the ignore button. The caller left no message. A few moments later the phone began to ring again. Again she looked at it and pressed ignore. She was in no mood to talk to the caller. After the third, fourth, and fifth calls she turned the phone off. She rotated the small device in her hand. It wasn’t long before the land line began to ring. Her eyes narrowed. She would have through it obvious she was unwilling to chat. The caller was now leaving messages which she muted the answering machine to. This behavior slightly confused her, since the caller had never been so persistent before. She decided the best way to ignore the calls was to sleep, so she went up the stairs into her room and flopped on the bed, asleep in moments.

            She was awoken not much later by a knock on the door. It surprised her. “Yes?” she queried. “It’s me,” a voice answered, “can I come in?”

            Her eyes narrowed. “No.” She was still unwilling to talk, and his presence irritated her.

            “Please?” He asked, “I want to talk to you.”

            She sniffed. “Yeah, you do now,” she scoffed quietly.

            “What is this?” He had heard her. “You want me to catch you, but with conditions?”

            “I don’t want to be used,” she returned, “I don’t want to be the one you go to just because you can’t be with her, or anyone else. I don’t want to be the one you go to just because I’m with someone else that you want to be around. I want to know you’re going to be here and not have to prepare myself to be let down. I don’t want to be the standby.” She finished, going silent. Suddenly, she wanted to run.

            She had to run, but she was trapped. She couldn’t believe she’d said everything that she wanted. He was blocking her door, or was he? Maybe if she opened the door fast enough, took him by surprise, she could get by. She put her shoes on quietly and pulled a sweatshirt over her head. She crept toward the door silently. With a bang the door flew open and she rushed out, only to be caught and held, fighting and struggling, in his arms. It was exactly where she wanted to be but she feared being there. After long minutes of hard fighting she accepted her captivity and laid her head against his chest. It was a relaxed, comfortable place she loved to be, but the problem was, she was never there for very long.