ASPEN LEAVES - CHAPTER 7, 8 AND 9

Status:     To be continued - Updated every Monday
Length:    Long
Author:    Brigitte Cross de Valk
Rating:     G
Synopsis: Sometimes tears say all there is to say. Though the second I saw him, even tear drops froze in what would become one crazy kaleidoscope of love, misinterpretations and fragile hearts

Anna P.O.V

CHAPTER ONE

The moment I saw him was a day so ordinary, that once each of my irrelevant thoughts had flitted through my mind; they were immediately consumed by the tidal wave of pointless pursuers; and promptly forgotten. So deep in my daydreams that once seated at the last vacant seat in the crowded cafe, I failed to acknowledge the other occupant on the table. 

It was only once I had finished my recently started chapter that I happened to glance up and meet the gaze of intense brown eyes. I immediately look down at my book, utterly helpless to the unstoppable blush that colours my cheeks. It’s warm glow adding fire to my beating heart.

It was of course completely pointless to hope that he had not just witnessed my now residing blush . Silently cursing myself, I peek up again from the pages; a faint smile playing on his lips as long fingers circle the edge of his coffee cup.

Damn. He had seen

I inwardly glare at him, the words on my page now a faded blur. So he thinks that because of his handsomeness; I'm embarrassed? Snapping close my book, I abruptly stand up. Meeting his enquiring look, with what I hoped was calm defiance; I raise an eyebrow.

“Don’t you recognise me?" he questioned, leaning forward. His deep Irish tones almost making me sit back down. Get a control over yourself; it's just a bloody accent. You can deal with this. Probably has a thousand women on the go. Maybe gay? I desperately cling to any solution that can help me seem sane through this torturous event of having to talk to a guy. Who was handsome. And Irish. And-how distracting.

"No", I finally replied. My wit even amazing me at this astounding answer. He looks a little surprised, maybe I had offended his ego or something. "But, you do have coffee on your chin" I pointed out, before sweeping out of the cafe. Okay, well if I hadn't tripped, then it seriously would have been a sweep.

Stepping out onto the crowded pavement I strove to forget all about the encounter. The faint stirrings of the past once more reminding me of my promise to keep to myself. I would not let myself stumble down the entangled route of love. 

Least of all to those that would laugh at my inadequate blushing.

The week passed in a state of mild confusement as I rushed about my newly appointed role as journalist. My iPod constantly on a loop, playing each song over and over. Lip syncing to the words I shut my folder with a satisfying snap, glad that I had managed to survive my first week. All traces of romantic feelings swept clean from my exhausted mind.

That is of course until after leaving the building, and tightening my scarf in the futile battle against the cold, I could see him oh so casually leaning against the wall. His feet tapping to an undistinguishable beat. And, although his arms were tightly folded, I could clearly see my book held tightly in his grasp.

CHAPTER TWO

My moment of unconscious indecision was enough for all chances of escape to become impossible; his long body already unfurling from the wall. My throat becomes dry as he bounds towards me. Having but a few seconds to process his rueful grin and faded denim jacket, as I smooth down my coat.

"Hey", he says, nodding at me. 

"Oh, hello", I reply, nervously biting my lip. Why the hell is he here? He stands still for a moment, as though struggling with what he wants to say.

"I wasn't sure before, if you err knew who I was"? I stare back blankly. "Or you might-know my name"? He asks. Know his name? Why the hell would I know this guy's name, did he expect me to be physic or something. "It's Danny. Danny O'Donoghue". He pauses. As if waiting for some sort of reaction.

"That’s um, a nice name", I reply, puzzled by what he expects me to say. “Why, have we met before or something?" I peer up at him, though I’m pretty sure his distinctive height and charming demeanour would have certainly made a permanent mark upon my memory. 

"No. We haven’t met, but..., well, that doesn’t matter. So you work here"? he asks, indicating to the recently vacated building. I nod, my mind working furiously trying to figure out how he had managed to locate me so easily. What was he, some sort of stalker? Did he just follow everyone he met? If he thought he could just follow me to-

"Your card said you did", he explained, holding up a my battered card of details. The scrap of paper that had on that day acted as my bookmark. 

Oh. 

"Um yes. I’m new here”, I smile, fiddling with the strands on my scarf. "You have my book"? He glances down at what he carries, his long dark eyelashes brushing his cheek.

"Yeah, I was going to sign it but, well..." He says, a curious expression on his face as he stares at me.

"Sign it?" I enquire frowning, reaching for my battered copy of Pride and Prejudice. Who did he think he bloody was; famous?

"Well, in case you wanted me to" . Okay, so I was now pretty sure this guy was crazy.

"Well, thank you", I nod, before beginning to walk home. Maybe he would take the hint?Besides, I argued with myself, I had vowed that I was not going to go near men anytime soon. No exceptions.

This thought was evidently not shared by him.

It was as we were approaching my tiny flat that his phone rang. Cursing he answered it, his quick Irish accent making it hard to keep up with the one sided conversation. My key slipping into the lock, I hear him put away his mobile.

He steps closer so I can feel my hair lightly flutter from his breath. The back of my neck tingling as I long to turn around to face him.

"I'm sorry, but I really have to go", he apologises.

"Don't worry," I my voice so soft its almost whisper, his closeness unbalancing the rhythm of my heart .Seeming to sigh, he steps back. His playful smile apparent once more. I manage to make myself function enough to slip through the door. Leaning against the frame I watch his departing figure. Stopping, he half turns around.

"I never found out your name".

"Its Anna", I answer, before closing the heavy wooden door.

CHAPTER THREE 

It's 11:30 pm and I'm halfway through brushing my teeth when the doorbell rings. I stop, my eyes widening in disbelief and apprehensive fear at the prospect of a stranger on my doorstep at this late hour. The cold enamel of the sink seeming to seep inside of me as I stare back at my reflection. I'm unavoidably in pyjama shorts and a vest; my hair pulled back into a scruffy bun. Nevertheless I square my shoulders and march to the door. My toothbrush the only weapon I carry.

Grabbing the handle I fling back the door.

It's Him.

His raw essence seems to shock my nerves as my spine begins to tingle. It's been three days since I last saw him. Already his feral beauty had begun to diminish from my mind, my memory not giving him the justice he deserves.

He looks up, his gaze lingering on my bare legs before meeting my eyes.

"Hi Ana," He says. It's only two words and yet my knees are begining to feel weak. What is this man doing to me? I seem to have no control over my body whenever I see him. Taking a breath I struggle to find something to say.

Only just seeming to notice my toothbrush; he smiles. Shifting his weight, he raises an eyebrow.

"Can I come in?" Silently I step back, the toothbrush now limp in my hand. He enters my home and it suddenly makes the interior seem so much smaller. Turning around he closes the door for me.

"Its, um quite late," I mumble, taking stock of the surroundings. Shit. I haven’t vacuumed in a few weeks.

"I know," He replies.

My heart once more obtaining its erratic beating; he moves towards me. The scent of his freshly washed hair making me almost quiver, as his cool hand traces my cheek. Bending slightly until his face is so close I can see each individual eyelash, he brushes my lips with his fingers. Lowering his head."You have toothpaste on you." he whispers. His nose almost touching my ear as he lets his hand run down my arm, a trail of goose bumps forming from his burning touch.

I step back to allow my head to clear from the overwhelming sensations my body is providing. His eyes once more resting on my legs. 

Turning around , I make my way quickly to the kitchen. Switching the kettle on, I busy myself with making tea. My mind whirling as I practically slam the mugs on the counter. I barely know what’s happening, or what I’m doing. Heck I don't even know who he is. I pause, waiting impatiently for the kettle to finish. And yet, I’ve quite willingly let him into my house without even the slightest resistance. 

I glance up. he's leaning in the kitchen doorway calmly watching me as I bustle about. Is he bloody incapable of standing up straight, I grumble to myself. My manic scurrying now over, I shyly slide over the mug.

CHAPTER FOUR

The forgotten tea is now cold.

Time is irrelevant. Hours seem have no meaning as we talk; past histories merging together. Though after countless conversation and recollected memories, I still have no grasp at who this man is.

I rub my eyes in tired frustration. He pauses, rubbing his neck as he looks at the floor.

“Ah, I’m keeping you up,” He says.

“No,” I reply. I guess a little too quickly, as he raises his head in quiet surprise. “It’s just...” I shrug, brushing my hair behind my ear. How do I tell him that it’s not exactly normal for me, to have men I barely know to just knock on my door? I’ve even shocked myself by letting him in. If I could only show him the past. Studying the minute details of my kitchen tiles; I bite my lip. “Why are you here?”

The unanswered question hangs in the air.

Each breath I take seems to last a lifetime as the silence stretches. It’s quite obvious he doesn’t know what to do. I internally wince, Shit. And now he’s probably going to leave. Nodding slightly I shuffle into the next room. Sinking to the couch, I wrap my arms around my legs. So he came here for that.

My mind enfolded in painful memories; I hug myself tighter. Berating myself again and again, I struggle not to sink under the tides of regret. I should have known, I should have known. Underneath their masked exterior, men are all the same.

And then he’s here. The couch sinking under this new found weight.

“Anna,” he murmurs. “Anna, look at me.” Gently tugging up my chin, he fixes my eyes to his.

There are times when the earth stands still. When the heavy rotation seems to stop, seconds completely frozen in the space of forever. Looking up at him, my mind fails to process his sincerity.

“Have you ever felt,” He pauses, looking down. ”That there’s a whole other side to you that people don’t know? That no matter what you do or say, there’s always someone behind you, twisting your words. That you’re judged continuously on a person that’s been created for you?”

Shit, he’s deep. And now I am completely and irrevocably lost, my mind a haze of confusement. Each time I try to pin this man down I’m completely thrown.

“I came here, because it’s nice to, you know; take a break from the fucking whirlwind of life”. He quietly laughs under his breath.

“Tell me,” I say, angling my head towards his.

“Argh its you know…."His gaze wanders around the room."Wait, you don’t have a tv?” And suddenly the missing grin is back in place. “Well no wonder fucking why,” He says shaking his head.”No internet either?” He smiles.

“Hey!” I protest, “There is completely nothing wrong with not participating fully in the modern world,” I tease. “Most of what’s on television is rubbish anyway, too many talent shows”.

His sound of protest make me laugh. Pulling me suddenly towards him, I can once more feel each breath he takes. His chest moving beneath me in calm collection, as my hands rest upon his shoulders. 

“Anna,” he sighs.”I don’t think I’ve ever quite met anyone like you.”

“Oh, really,” I reply. But it’s getting hard to concentrate. His hands are running up the back of my bare legs, each stroke making it harder to participate in conversation. I sit up, swallowing hard. “Um, so it’s really getting late,” I wildly comment. Though this point in now long irrelevant, as the suns faint hue makes small shadows on my carpet.

He sits up with me, his fingers now making steady circular movements on my thigh.

“Yes.” Bending his head he kisses my cheek, again and again. I’m sitting so still, my body completely jeopardising the arguments in my mind .I promised myself, I pro- his lips move steadily to the corner of my mouth. His warm breath lingering on my cheek . Sliding his hands up my torso , he pauses, hovering just over my mouth.

I’m paralysed with want.

Every fibre of my being raging with wild excitement.

But the fear wins.

CHAPTER FIVE 

There was never any choice. 

Shutting my eyes I lean backwards against the soft cushion, putting aching distance between us.

“Danny.“ Though his gaze has never left me, I need his full attention. “It’s not that simple, you, you don’t…understand.”

“Understand?” 

“Yes. I, .. It’s, you don’t want me.“ Silencing his unspoken arguments; I carry on. “Sometimes people carry scars that no amount of time can heal."

“Scars?” he repeats me once more. His gaze now evidently worried as he seems to search me for these professed injuries.

“Not…not physical, mental..I...” But how can I tell him, tell him that my trust in men was irreversibly broken on that October night. I shudder. “Danny, you just, have to...to. Well...go”. I’m standing now, trying to invoke some force in my request. Though my recent demand remains unfollowed. He’s still sitting there, his long legs splayed over the sofa as he stares intently up at me.

“You want me to leave?” He asks gently. I frown at the wall, my lips once more being the subjected victim of my incessant teeth. I fold my arms tight across my body, trying vainly to contain the uprising memories.

“I don’t think, I don’t think I can be with anyone in that way…ever” I hesitate, unformed words seeming to choke me. “I..He..He..When it happened…”

“Oh.” And now realisation has hit him. The blood rushing to my face as I stare blankly in dejected shame. I fully expect to hear the door slam and his departing footsteps. No one else has ever wanted to stay, once they realise I’m not exactly the average girl.

But once I open my eyes I can still see his face.

It looks angry.

Very angry. And then he’s up, standing beside me, his dark eyebrows drawn into a frown of his own.

“No.” He says. No? What the hell is that supposed to mean. “I’m not going to let you do this to yourself.”He’s lightly shaking me; both hands on my upper arms.

“I’m not..” I say, slightly alarmed.

“Yes you are,” he cuts me off. His forehead pressed against mind. “Just because some monster did that, doesn’t mean he can destroy the rest of your life. Besides,” he leans back, “I bet you’ve never dated an Irish man.”

And that’s when I smile.

“The Irish," I pause."Renown drunks that prattle on about small men?”. After what I’ve just expressed I can hardly believe I’m attempting humour.

“Well, I would hardly call myself small.” He replies; brown eyes twinkling in sudden mirth.

“I’ve seen quite taller,” I retort, raising a single eyebrow. 

“But have you seen handsomer?,” he mock pouts, fluttering his eyelashes.

“I’ve certainly seen people with smaller heads,” I point out. He laughs, tugging me into a hug. I miss a breath yet again. I realy have got to get used to being this close to him, unless I want to collapse with insufficient oxygen.

As I yawn into his shoulder, I begin to feel, well; something. I guess I just don’t want him to let go of me. Either that or my sleep deprived brain is lulling me into a false sense of security.

“I think it’s about time you went to bed.”

“Mm sleep,” I mumble drowsily, resting my full body weight against his. I seriously don’t think I have the energy to move. But it seems I don’t need to.

As he picks me up, cradling me in his arms, he whispers softly to me.

“I’m not going to let the past break you anymore.”

Laying me upon my bed, the last thing I remember, before I drift off into contented dreams is the touch of his lips as they press lightly against my head.

The next morning I wake up. My bleary eyes not comprehending what I see.

Shit.

CHAPTER SIX

I’m late.

Late. Late. Late. Late.

My mind a hazed mess; I scramble round my room, the nearest items of clothes being the ones I leap into. There’s no time to think about what happened last night; it’s only my second week of work. Dragging a comb through my hair I literally run out of the house. The cold autumn breeze helps stir the fading leaves I hurry through.

I arrive breathless and extremely red, although by the miracle of luck only a quarter of an hour behind. The stern gaze of the editor being my only welcome. Once seated I turn on the computer, though today my mind is in no state to work. Memories of yesterday flooding in, how he somehow was able to understand and not run away screaming. I would hold no blame for him if he did, there are days when I feel like doing exactly that.

I’m in such a state of anxious fluster, that when the phone rings I practically fly off my seat.

Well, if nearly falling off counts as flying.

Picking up the receiver I place it by my ear.

“Hello, Anna speaking”.

“Well I should certainly hope it is”. I flush. Glancing furtively around, for no reason other than having an Irish man at the other end of the line.

“Danny?” I reply, clutching the phone tighter in my now slightly damp hands.

“I hope I’m not interrupting or anything but I-“

“Oh no, just um you know the usual stuff, typing up complaints, mass tourism and things”, I blather on uselessly. Desperately trying to cover up my nervousness.

Just you know, very unsuccessfully.

“Anna,” he stops me. Probably the wisest thing to do, in this state I could have talked about nothing for hours. “I want to see you. After you finish work”. It’s hardly even a question, more of a statement that I would undoubtedly contrive to follow.

“Um, okay,” I answer, unconsciously rubbing my forehead; starting to worry.

“I’ll see you then.”

I have no idea what I am doing. Staring in a slightly shocked manner at the phone I contemplate my options. Though it would seem I have no control over what I do or say anymore. My strict walls seem to produce a thousand cracks at the very thought of his name. Letting slip the errant emotions normally locked far away. 

Sighing I push open the door, the inevitable happening as I stand on the corner waiting for him.

CHAPTER SEVEN

He’s pushed me against the wall.

It’s playful, but that fact does nothing to deter the sudden flashbacks. The way the hard iron bars felt on my back as the man slammed me alongside them. The ineffectual struggle before he took that one step closer.

I scream.

Involuntarily and inexorable, its harsh rawness bringing me back to where I am. Danny’s immediately moved back, his eyes widening at the shocking sound that just emerged from my mouth. I start to crumple, barely managing to hold myself together. The clarity of the memory leaving me reeling; my mind recoiling from the sharp slap of remembrance.

Danny’s once more at my side, raising his arm in comfort. But I flinch.

“No, don’t..” I say.

“Anna, please, it’s okay I’m not going to-“

But that’s when I start to panic. The cold feeling of nausea overtaking my senses. I have to get away. Why did I ever think for a split second that this could work? He’s a man, I can’t, I promised, I promised. I had made myself vow that I would never go near this again, to feel any closeness of over empowerment. My thoughts rapidly attacking me as I begin to shake.

“Anna.” His steadying hand tight upon my shoulder. “You have nothing to be afraid of”. My eyes closed tight; it’s easier to accept his words. But it’s hard. Hard to see past my bleak desperation at the faint light of hope. I swallow; before taking a deep breath.

Raising my head, I see him blinking down at me. His soft gaze seeming to penetrate the hardness guarding my heart.

It’s started to rain. Drops collecting in the creases of his leather jacket as we stand there. Listening to my slowing breath. I don’t know how long we remain there, statues caught under the overbearing clouds. The icy wind indifferent to my emotions, as calmness descends upon me.

His hands transfer to my face, his fingers steadily tracing my cheekbones. It’s soothing, his skin warming my frozen cheeks. I sigh, and with it go my anxieties. For now.

“Would, you like to...go for a walk? I ask, hesitant in my humility. He nods, shifting nearer to button up my coat.

As the rain continues to fall from the sky.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Our feet tread the broken pavement in perfect union.

It’s silent, although unlike the clouds it doesn’t feels oppressive. My thoughts filtered down to the natural simplicity of the sound of our steps. I’m not sure where we’re headed, though it doesn’t seem to matter.

Through the side of my eyes I can see him. His face staring intently over the ground in which he walks, intense eyes focused on an unreachable horizon. Hands thrust deep into secluded pockets. The long nose becoming an accustomed profile to me now.

I blink.

I’m getting used to this man?

Though I have no idea what he must be thinking. I sigh, its faint serenity carried away by the wind.

Seeming to feel my gaze; his head turns to mine. He takes his hands out of his pockets, hesitantly reaching for me. Capturing my hand in his.

I stare at it.

At the entwinement of our fingers, locked together in the faint resemblance of embrace. Minutes still, as my eyes begin to collect the unforgotten tears. The harmony of my heart starting to change its beating melody.

It’s too much. My untamed emotions not used to such comforting affection.

He seems to understand. We’ve stopped, solitary figures standing firm against the howling wind. It knocks down my hood, so my hair at once becomes a wild disarray. Completely unprotected from the elements; I stand there. Though the brutal derision from the rain seems to release my inhibitions.

“Danny. I..”

“Yes?,” he murmurs, his free hand brushing away the strands of hair on my face. The touch of his fingers soft upon my cheek.

“I don’t want you to go”. This admission seeming to perforate my thoughts, six simple words stripping away my layers, pinning down my true need.

“Anna, I’m not going anywhere”.

Encircling my waist, he pulls me to him. Bending his head so I see every line on his face. The contours of his skin defining his heart felt expression. The wind’s raging anger now a diminished noise in the background, as our eyes meet. The world could be falling to pieces around us and I wouldn’t care.

Feeling his breath, soft against my ragged emotions, calms any river of unease. The cold tip of his nose trailing over mine. I can feel his presence so acutely, I can barely breathe. The pressure of his arms as they tug me that one stir closer.

Eyes slowly closing. His lips descend upon mine.

CHAPTER NINE

One week later.

“No bloody way,” I laugh. His audacious tale letting slip the grin that’s starting to become a permanent feature on my face.

“I’m serious!” he protests, pushing me gently. I raise an eyebrow.

“Okay. I obviously believe you,” I tease, turning back to the dishes.

“Anna! Are you doubting me?” Hearing the obvious smile in his words, I try in vain to keep a straight face. Giggling quietly as I pick up the next plate; my back turned away from him.

“Oh, and now your laughing at me?!” 

It’s true.

These past few days, it’s as though I’ve been floating. The taught rope holding me to the ground now slack. Thunderclouds far beneath my feet as I bask in the iridescent rays of his light. The good humour of his has been so infectious I’ve hardly stopped smiling. 

I’m suddenly pulled backward.

Lifted up, and twisted around. Laughing, he places me on the counter. Hands tight on my waist he leans over me.

“Still unbelieving?”he whispers, his breath lightly fluttering my hair. I timidly look up at him; biting my lip. Though I don’t know how many hours we’ve spent together, I still can’t quite deter my ever present shyness. Unconsciously brushing away a strand of hair, I lean back slightly. Giving myself a chance to reply, without my hearts constant reminder of his evident closeness.

“Yes.”

Though before he can fully open his mouth to argue, I quieten him.

“Danny, shhh.” I say, suddenly sitting up straight; Inadvertedly brushing his cheek with mine. Though his proximity makes my breathing stutter I manage to make out a few words.”It’s ..my song”

Though it could hardly be classed as mine. I frown as the first few bars drift across my kitchen; the meaning behind the music opposing so heavily with my past few years.

I look up. His eyebrows so high, their in question of existence. Does he not like it?

“Its about a man, not giving up on the woman he loves,” I try to explain, not fully understanding the expression on his face. “Danny?”

“Your song?” he asks.

“Well..” I look down, twisting my fingers. “It’s just my favourite. “ He seems to want me to continue.

“I guess, because…each time I hear it-the song, it kind of restores my faith in love”, I pause. “It just shows, that you don’t need.. money or glamour to show someone how you feel”.

That’s when he kisses me.

My body, seeming to be one step ahead of my, as ever, jolted mind- reacts instantly. Hands taking up a life of their own, running up his back and twisting into his hair. My upper body pulled tight against his chest, the presence of the counter hard underneath my legs. 

He pulls away just as suddenly. Though still only an inch from my face.

My head is reeling, every thread of my skin alert to any sense my body can find. Hands still in his tousled hair; I swallow.

Oh.

These past few days he’s been so gentle with me, a few stolen kisses here and there; but nothing like this. I cringe inside at my inadequate romantic history. Though immediately closing that train of thought. Now is not the time to be thinking of the past.

His lips graze my forehead.

“Anna”, he pauses.

“Do you ever.. look up the people that sing to your music?”

To be continued...