Jumping Point

Author: Janet (SkyGirl5)

Genre: completely AU

Summary: A lot of things cross through a person's mind when they're out on a ledge about to jump.

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Parts 1 - 4

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Part One

My hands gripped the wall behind me so tightly that each of the tiny little pebbles in the cement felt like needles pricking against my skin, stabbing every inch of my palms and fingertips. It hurt so badly I wanted to let go, but I couldn’t, not just yet anyway. I leaned cautiously forward, my hands squeezing tighter to the wall, and peered down past the tips of my toes. From five stories above everything on the ground below, even the cars, looked so tiny and insignificant; they whizzed past, probably going somewhere important, but certainly not knowing I was above them. Taking a deep breath, I leaned back and rested my spine against the wall behind me. It wasn’t time to let go - not yet.

I had been in that position for almost an hour and my fingers were beginning to go numb, part from them weakening, having held me so tightly for such a long time, and part from the cold breeze that was blowing. It was not all that cold I suppose, but the longer I stood there, the colder it felt. Without the breeze it was the perfect temperature in the May evening. That day the sun had been shining without a cloud in the sky, but I didn’t notice. As far as I could tell, it had been gloomy and overcast for months.

The air filtering past me blew a strand of hair in my face, tickling my nose and driving me insane. Unable to use my hands, I tilted my head back and shook it so that the hair drifted away. Just as I lowered my head to an even level, a single fat tear burned a line down the left side of my face, rolling all the way down to my jaw until dropping off and bouncing onto my t-shirt.

I wasn’t sure what time it was, but I suspected it was nearly midnight. I left my apartment at ten to walk the two stories up to the rooftop. Once there, I sat at the edge of the wall that lined the roof for at least an hour or so, before I sat on top of the wall, letting my legs dangle precariously over the edge. I sat that way for another half hour before lowering myself into the position I was standing in then. Standing, waiting, daring myself to let go.

I was startled by what sounded like footsteps crunching behind me on the gravel rooftop. Gripping my hands tighter on the wall, I tried to turn my head far enough to see, but I could not see anything. The darkness combined with the angle at which my neck was turned prohibited me from seeing anything but a pigeon roosting atop the wall a few feet away.

The crunching grew closer and my heart rate sped to a pace even more rapid than it was already beating. “Who-who’s there? Is someone there?” I asked, my voice barely above a haunted whisper.

“I’m a friend,” came a male voice. It didn’t sound like it was behind me, though; it sounded much more distant almost as though it was all around me.

“I don’t have any friends,” I snapped bitterly at him. It was true, I didn’t. If I had friends or anyone for that matter I would not have been standing on a ledge in the middle of the night, ready to jump. “Go away,” I ordered the male stranger.

“I just want to talk,” he said. That time, I heard his voice clearer, less distant and it was definitely coming from behind me. If I had really taken the time to listen, I would have heard just how soothing his voice sounded, but I didn’t; I had only one thing on my mind that night.

“I don’t want to talk, not to anyone,” I told him as a few more tears made their way down my cheeks.

“You don’t want to jump either.”

“How do you know?!” I challenged him. He didn’t know anything about me, nothing, not one thing. I didn’t know anything about him either; therefore it was impossible for him to know that I did not want to jump. Of course I did, why else would I have been out there? He didn’t know a damn thing about me or what it was like to be me.

“Because if you did, you would have jumped long ago,” he said. It sounded like he was mocking me. How could he have been mocking me?! Of course I was going to jump… I just needed to wait for the right time. “How about you tell me your name?” he suggested.

I refused to answer. I kept my stare intent on the building across the street from me. I stared at the brown speckled bricks on it so hard I was shocked I could not see straight through the bricks and into the apartments on the inside.

“My name is Brian,” he offered after a few moments of silence between us. Brian? I don’t know one single person named Brian, therefore I was right with my first instinct; he’s not my friend, I don’t even know him.

“I don’t know anyone named Brian,” I told him.

“Well, now you do,” he said. By the tone of his voice I could almost see the smile on his face and it annoyed me - really, truly annoyed me. He was trying to beat me at whatever game he thought we were playing, but it wasn’t going to work. I wasn’t in the mood for games.

“Just go away,” I told him.

“Nope, I’m not going. Not until you tell me your name,” he said.

“Abby. My name is Abby,” I told him in hopes that then, he would actually go away, but something inside me knew better.

“Abby, that’s a lovely name. Tell me Abby, how old are you?”

Why did he care? “Twenty-eight.”

“Twenty-eight? Boy, that’s awful young isn’t? You’ve got so much life left to live Abby. How about you come off that ledge and we’ll talk some more.”

“NO!” I shouted defiantly at him, my hands giving slightly in my fury. Why did he care so much if I got down? It didn’t matter; I didn’t matter. “I don’t have any life to live - nothing. I have nothing… nothing,” I repeated with a slight sob. Who was this man Brian and how was he getting me to say so much when I wanted to say nothing?

“That can’t possibly be true. I’m sure you have a lot to live for. What about parents?”

“Dead,” I spat. “B-both of them… car accident…last year…”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. He sounded sincere - I hated that.

“What about someone else? Aunt? Uncle, perhaps?”

“No,” I shook my head. “Sister…”

“Well there you go, see, you do have someone. What’s your sister’s name? How old is she?”

“M-Mary,” I told him, my tears still hindering my speaking ability. Or was that the exhaustion I was feeling? “She’s twenty-two… graduating this month f-from NYU.”

“I’m sure your sister would be very upset if you jumped, Abby.”

“No she wouldn’t!” I snapped at him. Why was he so damn sure of everything when he didn’t even know me?! “She hates me! I haven’t spoken to her since… since the f-funeral.”

“Then you should call her. I’m sure she wants to hear from yo-”

“No she doesn’t!” I cut him off, getting very irritated about hearing how sure he was.

“Of course she does. She’s your sister and she loves you. She’d want you to come inside,” he said. I shook my head silently. No, she wouldn’t, she wouldn’t care; she doesn’t care about anyone but herself and her boyfriend. “Alright…. How about friends? Your job? What do you do?”

“Lawyer,” I told him.

“Oh that’s a wonderful profession. I’m sure you’re job is-”

“It’s terrible,” I choked out. My tears were beginning to flow at steady intervals. “It’s horrible. I-I c-can’t… I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m a terrible lawyer… it’s so hard and I-I just don’t know I… I don’t…”

“Shh, it’s alright,” he said, his voice still calm but sounding closer than it ever had. I turned my head towards it, trying my hardest to see him, but I couldn’t. “You just need to get your feet planted on the ground and then you’ll be great. I’m sure you can do it Abby.”

“No, no, no, no I can’t!! I can’t go back… I can’t… they expect me to… and I don’t know how and… and…,” I lowered my head to my chest as sobs took over causing my arms to tremble violently.

“Then maybe you should take some time off,” he suggested.

“Then I’ll be a failure!!”

“No, no you won’t. Taking some time off doesn’t make you a failure; it makes you a person still deciding what they want from life. So, why don’t you come inside and we’ll talk about this some more, hmm?”

“NO I CAN’T!” I shouted. Why didn’t he understand? I couldn’t get off the ledge and go back inside. Nothing was left for me back there but an empty apartment full of an empty refrigerator, a bunch of laundry, and a half eaten sandwich on the coffee table. This was the way it had to be.

“Why don’t you tell me about something then Abby? Hmm? Why don’t you tell me about your favorite Christmas? You do like Christmas, don’t you?” he asked.

“I guess,” I sniffed. Who didn’t like Christmas? What was the point of telling him that anyway? What was he going to do with that information? Use it in my obituary when they find my body on the pavement in the morning?

“Tell me then; I want to hear.”

“Why do you care so freakin’ much? Why don’t you just go away?!” I demand of him.

“I don’t want to go away. I want to stay here and talk to you,” he said.

And that’s what he did. He stayed there and he talked to me the whole night. We must have talked about dozens of things I barely even remember. Our conversation was cyclical, though. He’d ask me to come in and I’d refuse. I kept refusing and refusing until I had cried myself so weak that I could barely stand there anymore. Just as the first hint of the dawn was creeping over the horizon, I climbed back over that wall and dragged my feet along the gravel rooftop as I made my way towards the stairs, both my mind and body exhausted. Right before I reached the stairway, though, I turned back, wanting to say one last thing to the mysterious stranger named Brian who had stayed with me all night, but, much to my surprise he was gone. I looked all over that rooftop, knowing there was only one way down via the stairway, but he was not there. After searching for ten minutes I descended the stairs, wondering if he had ever really been there at all.



Part Two

Three months had passed since that night I spent out on that ledge and things were better for me, much better. After sleeping for most of the next day due to my extreme level of exhaustion, I called Mary, just like Brian told me too and, like Brian said, she was thrilled to hear from me. As it turns out, the fight at our parent’s funeral that sparked our falling out was just a stupid misunderstanding. As a matter of fact, she was planning on visiting me once she got everything squared away with her graduation.

After we cried through our time apart, I told her the truth about my phone call, how I had been out on a ledge ready to jump and kill myself. That was the hardest admission I had ever made. This, of course, sparked more tears from my little sister, who proclaimed she was coming to see me the next day.

When she arrived the next day we spent the entire day on the couch talking. I told her about how stressed I was at work and how I felt like I had no one to turn to, which is what pushed me to the edge, literally. Did I ever really have intentions of jumping? I’m not sure, but, most likely Brian was right and I didn’t. I was glad I didn’t jump, especially since I had my sister back.

I took a leave of absence from work and Mary moved in with me to help me make rent while I was taking some time off. I started seeing a therapist to help me, too. That was Mary’s suggestion, but she was entirely right; it was an appropriate step to take after an almost suicide. At first, I was afraid they’d put me in some mental hospital if I told them that I was going to kill myself, but they didn’t, knowing that Mary was there to watch over me. I didn’t really need her though. I mean, I needed her, but not to tear me away from any ledges or pill bottles; I wasn’t going to that dark place again.

After a month away from work I felt it was alright for me to return. Instead of working with criminal justice, which I had been working with, I took lower profile cases, which meant much less stress. Doing that made me remember why I wanted to become a lawyer in the first place; to help people.

Three months passed since I was out on that ledge and things were definitely better than they were. They still were not perfect, but I was getting there. Even after that time passed, though, I still thought about that night. I thought about that night practically every day. Partly I thought about it, wondering how I ever let myself get to such a dark place before I sought out help. Mostly, though, I thought about it because I thought about Brian. Without Brian… well, I’m not sure what would have happened that night. I owed my life to Brian and I didn’t even know who he was. I had never even seen his face.

Thinking about him one night while Mary was having dinner with a few of her colleagues from work, I went up to the roof. That was the first time I had gone up there since that night. The air was crisp; the summer was beginning to fade away into fall causing the nights to be chilly and the leaves to become less green. Hugging myself tightly, I wished I had worn long sleeves instead of the t-shirt I had been wearing around my apartment.

I approached the ledge cautiously, fearing that it might just suck me over. That, of course, was ridiculous, but still, I was wary. Finally, when I reached it the ledge, I placed my hands tentatively upon it and that’s when I heard him.

“You’re not going to jump again, are you?” His voice sounded distant and like it was coming from every direction, but I knew it was him. I could recognize his voice anywhere; it had been echoing in my head for ninety days.

“Brian,” I exhaled, turning around. I had expected to see a man standing behind me, but instead there was nothing.

“You’re not going to jump, are you?” he repeated, his voice sounding nearer.

“No… where are you?” I asked, squinting. True, it was dark, but there was a full moon that night so visibility was higher than it normally would have been.

“I’m here,” he said. His voice was coming from my left so I took a step in that direction. Squinting my eyes I could almost see the outline of a figure in the darkness, but it was hard to tell. “What are you doing up here?”

“I dunno…,” I sigh. “Actually, I was thinking about you…”

“Me?” he asked, sounding a bit surprised.

“Yes, I wanted to thank you… that night… you, you saved my life Brian and I needed to thank you,” I told him.

“You saved yourself. I was merely… assisting you,” he said.

“Well still, thank you,” I said. Then, we stood there in silence for a few moments before I said. “Can I see you or something? I mean, please? Just step forward a bit and – hey, how are you up here again? How did you know I’d be here? Do you live up here or something?” I asked, the coincidence of his appearance beginning to unnerve me.

“I don’t live up here Abby,” he said. He didn’t step forward, though, so I took three steps towards him. Finally, I saw him. His hair was dark – black, maybe dark brown. His eyes were dark as well. He was taller than me, but not by too much, making him just about six feet tall, maybe an inch or so over. His frame was trim, but it was hard to tell because he was wearing a large jacket that went the whole way down to the floor.

“Where do you live then?” I asked him.

“Abby,” he said with a heavy sigh. I could see his figure turn away from me and he brought one of his hands up to run through his hair. “I… I’m not who you think I am.”

With this, I took a step back, wondering who, exactly he was. I didn’t know him; I didn’t know one thing about him. He could have been… well, something bad but, then again… all the kindness he had shown me three months earlier led me to believe he was nothing more than a wonderful soul who’d help someone he never even met. Thinking of him in any sort of negative sense was incomprehensible to me. “Who…who are you?”

“I’m just… not,” he sighed. “I’m sorry Abby, I should… I need to go.”

“Wait,” I said taking a step forward. “Please, tell me who you are?”

“I can’t… I… I’m not who you think…,” he repeated.

“What if you’re who I want?” I said boldly. He turned away and I reached out for his arm. I swore I touched it, I could have sworn it but yet… I felt nothing. It seemed as though something impossible had happened; it seemed as though my hand went through him.

I looked down at my hand in disbelief and then back up to him but he was gone. He had disappeared without a noise, not even the crunching of footsteps against the gravel rooftop.



Part Three

For the next three days I did nothing but think about Brian. Who was he? What was he? Why was I able to put my hand through him that way? Had my hand really gone through him? Was he ever really there at all or was he simply a hallucination? Maybe I was going crazy. Maybe I had gone crazy and I was hallucinating seeing him. If that was true, what else was I hallucinating?

The thing was, though, to me, nothing had ever seemed as real as he did. When he was around me, I had a feeling. It wasn’t one feeling though, it was a bunch mixed together: completeness, serenity, calm, but, most of all, I wasn’t afraid. That entire night I spent with him talking, I felt all that even though I was hanging over the ledge of a five story apartment building. I felt it that second night on the rooftop too. He had to be real in some way or another, I just wasn’t sure how, but I was dying to find out.

I had to see him again, but I wasn’t sure how. I thought about the two times I had seen him before, wondering what the connection was. The first time I was lonely and in desperate need of someone to talk to, someone to help. The second time, I was neither of those things; well I was desperate to talk to him. Maybe that was the key. Maybe I needed to think of him, think of talking to him and needing him and he’d appear. Then again, maybe the rooftop had to be added into the equation.

That night, three days after I had spoken to him last, I was wandering around my apartment, thinking about these things when Mary burst through the door saying, “Hi can’t stay just need an umbrella.”

“Umbrella?” I asked. She appeared in the kitchen, where I was standing, and I saw my question was unnecessary. Her hair was wet and straggly and her jacket was soaked through. So much for going back to the rooftop.

“Yeah it’s rainin’ like hell out there. Gotta go out, should be back before eleven – love ya!” she called before disappearing once more.

Left alone once more, I began to think of Brian. I thought that maybe if I thought about him hard enough, he would appear. That didn’t work, so I gave up and retreated to my bedroom, planning on reading some law journals until they eventually put me to sleep. I couldn’t focus though; all I thought about as I stared down at that page was him.

“Brian?” I said aloud cautiously. “Can you hear me? I mean, that sounds ridiculous,” I scolded myself. Of course he couldn’t hear me, he wasn’t even there, but… could he?

“I can hear you,” his voice, distant and echoing, filled my room. The eerie sound it had was really beginning to freak me out.

“Where… where are you?” I asked.

“Here,” he said. His voice was finally clear and I looked towards it. When I saw him standing in the corner of my bedroom I jumped so far that I smacked my head on the wall behind me. “Are you alright?” he asked after hearing my moan.

“Fine,” I grumbled, rubbing my head. “How’d you get in here?! Who are you? What are you?” I demanded of him.

“I’m not who you think,” he said. I had heard that before, twice actually, and I was really getting sick of how vague it was.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I told him.

“I…I’m not a being, a person… I’m not from here on this earth,” he told me in a cautious way. Oh yeah, that did wonders for my ‘Oh my god I’m hallucinating’ fear.

“What are you then? An… angel?” I suggested almost laughing. Angels don’t exist… do they?

“I help people when they need it and I watch over those who need me,” he answered.

“So…you are an angel?” I asked, still very confused.

“Not exactly, but close,” he said, smiling softly. When he smiled, I could see two tiny dimples, one on each of his cheeks that made my heart flutter slightly.

“Come here,” I beckoned him closer. He took a few steps and, for the first time, I could truly see him. His hair was dark brown, as were his eyes. I tried to stare into them, but, instead of seeing deeper into him, I saw through them, like he wasn’t even there at all. I gestured for him to sit on the bed and he did so, but when he sat I felt no weight on the bed at all. “So… you help other people?” I asked him.

He nodded. “But not like this… I’ve never let anyone see me before,” he admitted, his eyes downcast.

“Then why did you let me see you?” I asked him.

“I don’t know I… I can’t explain it… I just felt like I needed to,” he said. Feeling something you can’t explain – that was something I was familiar with, especially when it came to him.

I nodded slightly before telling him, “I’m better. I mean, I won’t be out on any more ledges that’s for sure,” I said with a slight laugh. “I took some time off from work, but I’m back now. I’m happy.”

“I know,” he said with a nod. “I’ve been watching you.”

Watching me? Oh, wow, very creepy. “Watching me?!” I gulped slightly. “Like… when I’m in the shower?!” I asked, slightly horrified.

“No, no,” he assured me. “No I can’t see you like I see you know. It’s more like a feeling… I know that you’ve been happier.”

“I have been,” I said with a smile. “My sister, Mary, she’s living with me now. It’s really nice.” He nodded and we were silent for a few moments. “So, um, do you have a family? Anyone?” I asked him. He shook his head. “You don’t have anyone?” I asked, my tone sad. I knew what it was like to have no one and I didn’t want that for anyone, especially not Brian.

“No, I… can’t,” he said. “But let’s not talk about me, let’s talk more about you,” he said.

And so we did. We talked for two hours, laughing occasionally, all about the things I was telling him. He never offered any information about himself, but something told me there wasn’t any to share. Finally, our conversation was interrupted by the sounds of Mary arriving home. “That’s my sister,” I told him in a very quiet voice.

“I should go,” he said, his voice returning to that distant place.

“No, wait, please,” I said, reaching out for him. I tried to catch his hand with mine but I was unable to; mine passed right through his. I stared down at it cautiously as I said, “I don’t want you to go.”

He looked away from me with a sigh. “I don’t have a choice Abby… unless…”

“Unless what?!” I asked sounding very hopeful but still trying to keep my voice as low as possible so Mary didn’t hear me and burst in here to find me talking to a ghost or… whatever he was.

He looked back to me looking slightly nervous. “I could fall for you Abby, literally.”

I felt the blush creeping up my cheeks and my skin tingling at his words. I was already falling for him so him falling for me made perfect sense but… what exactly did he mean ‘literally’? I had no idea, so I asked.

“I mean, I could choose to fall down to earth. I’d become mortal; human,” he explained.

“You’re immortal now?”

He nodded. “I don’t exactly exist therefore I cannot have a beginning or an end.”

“Oh…,” I said, though I really didn’t understand at all. “So… what would happen if you became human?”

“I don’t know… I might look different or be different… I’m not sure. I don’t think anyone has ever done it before,” he told me.

“Anyone? There are more like you?” I asked. He nodded. This didn’t surprise me all that much I suppose. I mean one angel like person for the world’s six billion people made no sense at all. “Why hasn’t anyone ever fallen before?”

“Would you choose a mortal life over a never-ending one?” he asked.

I thought about this for a moment. Standing out on that ledge taught me that I really was afraid of dying. Then again, that is a very common fear so that revelation wasn’t all that groundbreaking. Keeping that in mind, being immortal would remove the fear of dying, but at what price?

“No, I wouldn’t,” I said finally. “Living an eternal life wouldn’t be worth it without having someone to live it with. Living a life without love wouldn’t be worth it.”

“I-” he was about to speak again but, before he said another word, he looked up towards the ceiling of my room, almost as though someone had called his name; someone I couldn’t hear. “I’m sorry, I really have to go,” he said.

“Wait, no, please, will I ever… see you again,” I let my voice drift off. I had only shut my eyes for a moment but, when I opened them again… he was gone.



Part Four

“Abby, seriously, what’s up with you?” Mary asked me, her tone very concerned. It was a Friday night and she was getting ready to go out on a first date with a potential new boyfriend; I was helping her with her hair. “You’re so… mopey.”

“I’m not mopey,” I defended, but she was entirely correct; I was mopey.

“Yes you are. What’s up? Are you…?”

“I’m fine Mary, really,” I told her. “It’s just… this guy…” there, I said it. Wow, what a weight off my chest that was. Hopefully Mary can help me. If there’s one thing she’s stellar at its dating advice.

“Ooooooh a guy?!” she asked, her voice turning high pitched. “Who is he? What’s his name? What’s he like? Did he ask you out yet?”

“Mary, chill. He’s… unavailable,” I said slowly. Boy if that isn’t the understatement of the century.

“Unavailable how? Married? Dating someone? Gay?” she questioned.

“None of the above, exactly,” I answered. “It’s complicated…”

“You really like him don’t you?” she asked, meeting my eyes through my reflection in the mirror in front of us.

I nodded. “I don’t know how to describe it but… I felt this connection between us and we… we talked for hours and it felt like no time had passed at all…I dunno, I mean, I haven’t heard from him in three weeks so…”

“Maybe he’s just scared to commit. You should call him,” Mary suggested.

“Can’t; don’t have his number…. Hey Mary, do you believe in angels?” I asked. An abrupt conversation change, seemingly anyway. Mary could never know how close those two topics really were.

“Wow that was random,” she laughed.

“Just answer the question.”

“Ohhh I don’t know Ab…,” she groaned slightly. “I guess… I don’t know, I really don’t.”

“That’s okay… you’re hair’s done; looks great,” I smiled at her in the mirror.

“Thanks sis you’re the best,” Mary said, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

After she had gone, I parked myself on the sofa armed with movies and popcorn. Just another boring Friday night, but I didn’t mind that too much; I had had a busy week at work and was ready for some peaceful relaxation time. As I watched the movies I had rented, my thoughts drifted to Brian. Three weeks had passed since that night in my bedroom and I hadn’t so much as heard an echoing whisper from him. I had called for him once, up on the rooftop, but he never came. This led me to wonder a few things.

First, I wondered and feared that maybe our conversations had gotten him in trouble. Most likely he broke some angel golden-rule or something and wasn’t supposed to be talking to me. Maybe that was why he left so quickly that night. Maybe the head angel, whoever that was, forbid him from seeing or talking to me again.

Another thing I wondered was that maybe he didn’t want to see me again. Maybe his quick exit was just a way of shaking me off. Yet again, if that was true, why did he even mention falling down to earth to me? If he wanted to get rid of me, he never should have mentioned that.

I also wondered if maybe, just maybe, he had fallen and become a mortal human. If that happened, though, where was he? Had something gone wrong? Was he alright?

I was torn from my thoughts by a knock at my apartment door. Figuring it was just Mary, who had forgotten her purse, keys, or mind as she often did, I went to open it, pausing my movie on the way. I could have never anticipated just who I saw standing outside my door. I opened it slowly, my jaw hanging slack in pure shock, wondering a million different things, but most of all, was he real?

“Hello Abby,” Brian said, his voice sounding clearer than it ever had before. “I… I’m sorry… I’m sorry it took so long to get here I…,” he let his voice drift off, probably at the look of utter shock on my face.

I slowly stepped aside and allowed him to walk into my apartment. He shut the door behind him since my arms had fallen limp to my sides. For a solid few minutes I just gaped at him, daring myself to touch him. Finally, I did; I raised my right hand and tentatively touched his cheek, half expecting my hand to go right through it, but it didn’t. I felt his skin, soft and warm, beneath my fingertips.

In that moment silent tears began flowing down my face. He brought his right hand up to touch my face and I felt his thumb gliding against my cheek, removing my tears. I shut my eyes and leaned into his hand, feeling his skin against mine for a full minute before I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tightly, feeling all of him. It was something I doubt I could describe had I had all the words in the world available to me. Completeness was as close as I could get. It just felt… right.

It took him a moment, but his hands settled at the small of my back, holding me close to him. “Brian,” I choked out when I felt his touch. “How did you… where… I…,” obviously speaking at that moment wasn’t a strong point for me.

“I fell for you,” he told me with a soft smile. “When I did it, I didn’t realize I’d end up so far away. I was trying to get back here to you but… I had no money or identification, which posed a problem, but I’m here; I made it,” he smiled.

“You’re really here? You’re really real?” I asked him. He nodded gently. Unable to stand it any longer I pressed my lips up against his, but, much to my surprise, he jumped back quickly. “What’s wrong?” I asked, my brow furrowing. I seriously hope he didn’t fall just so we could be friends.

“I’m sorry I…,” he paused and lowered his eyes away from mine. “I’ve never done that before…”

A small laugh escaped my lips. Looking at him as a person I would have guessed his age to be around thirty, so, having a thirty-year-old man say he never kissed anyone before was certainly a strange occurrence. “You’ve never kissed anyone?” I asked.

He shook his head and looked back to me. “I’ve never done anything. I’ve never kissed or hugged or eaten or felt water against my skin – nothing,” he said.

Wow. Now that’s hard to imagine. “Well then we’ll just have to take you to a pool… or a shower,” I said with a smile. He smiled back at me. Then, I leaned in cautiously and waited for him to lean back before shutting my eyes and giving him a long kiss.

“I think I could get used to that,” he told me.

I couldn’t help but giggle softly at his comment. “Me too,” I sighed. “Are you really here to stay? You’re not leaving?”

“Not leaving,” he shook his head. I grinned and pulled him back into a tight hug. In that moment, somehow, I knew I was going to be happy for the rest of my life.

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