March

Time to fly.

I'm so ready. So ready to see the world. I've got a mind palace all built with happy Redbeards to calm me down, and I think I can do this! Still, prayers would be appreciated! =D

Here's an excerpt that won't make any sense because of the lack of context. Oh well. Yolo.

The tram was dizzying.

He was reading the paper when she sat down, pulling at her gloves. Beneath the surface of the black fabric, her hands were colder than death and felt stiff, but the rest of her body was flushed with fire. After a moment he glanced up at her, and then down at the paper again, only to look up for a longer stare. His gaze drank her in as it hadn’t done in months.

Anna sat in silence, her eyes carefully trained on the night landscape as it whizzed by.

“You look beautiful, darling.” He said impulsively, an admiration in his tone that went beyond the normal compliment. Something in the statement made her pulse quicken to a thundering speed. She couldn’t remember the last time he had called her beautiful. For years it had been “ravishing, stunning, bewitching, gorgeous, delightful, lovely or exquisite.” The simplicity of “beautiful” struck her.

She smiled. He smiled. The exchange might easily have ended there, but to her surprise he went on, rather clumsily.

“I know it’s been some time since we…since you and I have talked. Really talked. And it hasn't always been easy for you." 

Anna’s thoughts raced. Why was he saying this? Why tonight of all nights? She felt faint, desperate to remain firm in her resolve.

He continued further. “But I hope you won’t forget everything. Everything that came before.” His voice lowered to a whisper, and the cold, cruel tyrant of the past months fell away and only a skeleton of the madman was left. He was hers again, with an earnestness in his eyes that was kept sacred only for her. “I love you very much, darling.”

He leaned across the partition and kissed her.

“Let’s go home tonight, directly.” He said, turning back to his war news. She paled, feverish with panic as his words struck her. The train careened over a bridge and the city lights glistened in the distance. “It’s been too long since we’ve had an evening all our own. No more work. No interruptions. I swear.” His dark eyes glowed deeply.

“What about the Antonys?” Anna rasped, fighting to keep her voice steady. “We promised them—“

He waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, Antony will be livid of course. But it doesn’t matter.”

The evening was steadily evolving into a nightmare.

“It would be rude not to go, when we’ve agreed to meet them.” She murmured. 

“We’ll still see them at the opera, and Antony can make an appointment with me next week if he insists on talking business.”

Talking business.

The callousness of what he meant by "business" brought her back to her senses. 

She steadied herself, fighting frantically for an idea, any idea that would provide an alternate solution. The plan was collapsing. If they didn’t meet the Antonys then it was over before it had even begun, and months of toiling would be wasted, along with the lives of the seven Bosnians. Casting about for ideas, Anna grasped at any loose thread that could lead somewhere.

“Must we go straight home?” She said, her voice carefully clothed in nonchalance. “The phone will ring endlessly, and there will be dozens of people running about  as always.” Straightening, she looked over at him, leaning forward. “What if we went somewhere else? Somewhere quiet, private.” She was speaking, with nothing left but blind faith to ensure that her words would do any good. “What about the hill—the lookout over the river—where we used to go? Would you take me there tonight?” She realized that she was whispering now, and succeeding. He was staring at her again, his newspaper forgotten. He was entranced. For another terrible moment, it was just as if she really meant what she said, like it was enough just to be with him and be in love. Love. It was strange how one gentle word could send her spiraling back into it. 

“We could just forget everything. Everything but the moon and the stars. We could rent a car and drive out to the point; no distractions or interruptions. Please?”

He nodded.

“It sounds perfect.”

Anna dared to breathe again.

“I’ll call Lady Antony and let them know that we won’t be going to dinner,” She stood too quickly and started for the back of the car.

“Wait, don’t bother. Stay here with me.” His words were commanding, but not in the way that she feared. Everything about him reminded her of the past.

“It will be better if they know ahead of time.” She prayed silently, begging for his approval.

“Fine. You're right. Antony will be unbearable during the opera if he’s blindsided. Go ahead and call her.” Once more, he took up his newspaper and began digesting its tidbits.

Anna hurried to the phone and rang up the Antony residence. It rang once, then twice, and seemed to  ring endlessly until at last someone answered.

“Get me Lady Antony please; tell her it’s important.”

Again silence. Anna could hear the blood pumping through her veins more clearly than the sound of the tram gliding over the rails.

“Hello?”

She jumped.

“Mauve?”

“Yes,” Mauve’s voice came floating across the line full of trepidation. Anna draped herself in a singsong carelessness.

“I’m calling about dinner tonight,” She said. “I’m afraid we’ve decided to cancel.”

“Really? Oh what a shame. Antony will be so disappointed.” A wave of panic transcended the miles between them and the two women shared a moment of absolute desperation.

“Yes, I’m sorry. But we’ll be sure to do it another time.” Anna replied. “We’re going to have a relaxing evening to ourselves though.” Then, the idea struck her. “You know, rent a car. Go for a drive." Her words were pointed enough to deliver a scrap of a message. "But don’t worry, we’ll make it work somehow.”

“A drive? That sounds lovely.” Mauve understood.

The car.

The key.

The last final hope.

“Yes. It will be.” Anna said.