By: Kitten Kisses
Summary- But the other side of the bed was unused. And he realized that he would give anything to have her there again. His heart would be warm enough, just to have her there beside him. Matthew/Leila
A short one-shot, centered around Matthew and Leila.
He looked at her gently, his soft eyes meeting hers over their drinks. She was stunning, tonight, as she was every night. But for some unexplainable reason, he was feeling even more in-love with her on this particular day.
She wasn't the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen. Her hair didn't shine like the hair of the girls' that worked in Lord Hector's palace, and her skin was always dirty and bruised from her work.
But her smile was amazing. And her eyes shone like a beacon… One look, and he wanted to follow her like a lost Captain would want to follow a lighthouse's gentle guiding light. He was drawn to her like a magnet to metal, and he felt himself moving closer to her, his forehead eventually coming to meet hers halfway across the small table.
"I thought we were going to play cards, Matthew…" she whispered, seeming to understand that cards were not what he had in mind, tonight. But she always was a teaser, and he knew that she would have her fun first.
"I've just decided," he answered, his voice husky as he rested his elbows on the table, reaching his hands up to cup her face. "That cards…just aren't very entertaining…"
Her eyelids started to close as he moved closer, and they both ignored the fact that the table they were sitting at was so small that their knees were knocking together rather painfully. Their lips met, then, for the first time…
They were so busy looking into each other's eyes, that they never noticed when their glasses tumbled to the floor, spilling their drinks on the cobblestone floor. He thought her hair looked lovely, and that the scrapes and bruises on her skin only served to enhance her beauty…
"Oh, Leila…" he sighed, pushing his lips to hers again. "Why didn't we see this sooner?"
"I'm not sure…" she smiled, pulling away after their kiss had finished. "But I wish that we had…"
He sighed, his face pushed into the small pillow on his bed. The soft surface of the pillow was damp, and as he turned over to look at the ceiling, the moonlight shining through his window reflected red-rimmed eyes.
Out of habit, and the small bit of hope that still existed within him, he reached a hand underneath the thin blanket, and settled it in the spot beside him.
A cold, lonely word. That spot would never be filled. In his heart, his dreams, or his soul. It had been years, but a small part of him always hoped; believed, that if he would only reach over, he would find her curled up beside him, her soft hair falling into her eyes as she dozed. She would probably unconsciously try to take the blankets for herself, as she mumbled in her sleep about how much she hated chilly weather.
But the other side of the bed was unused. And he realized that he would give anything to have her there again, tugging all the blankets over to her own side. His heart would be warm enough, just to have her there beside him.
Perhaps…one day, he would wake up to find her there, smiling gently, her hair sticking up in all directions. And he would realize that it was all… a bad dream. A nightmare. Or maybe, it wasn't a dream, only… she was really alive, and she had to keep it from him…
'Maybe tomorrow,' he thought, closing his eyes as he pulled the blanket up to his chin. 'Or the next day…or the next…'