V. Epilogue

Hours later, she sat in the bay window in the library, head pressed against the cool glass of the window. Absently, she stared into the rain clouds which seemed reluctant to separate and let the sun through. Ever so often, when she didn't feel Logan's eyes on her, she would look at him out of the corner of her eye. As soon as he looked her way again, she'd turn her eyes back to the storm dissipating before her like the ending to some great opera.

He sat on the small Victorian couch that always made him feel like a barbarian destroying something beautiful. He puffed on a cigar, noting that she didn't reprimand him, as she usually did. She'd been sitting in the window for an hour or longer, and he'd been sitting in that too fancy couch just as long. He wasn't unsettled by the silence between them. This was a time for reflection; this was a time for serenity.

Earlier, not too long after the first dismal ray of light lit the sky, they'd made love again. They'd given themselves to each other in what a vanilla romance novel called "reckless abandon," clinging to each other desperately as if that moment was the last moment. "Comfort me," she'd whispered in his ear. "Give me peace." Then, she cried openly afterwards, trembling with the same fire that fueled her passion, crying for everything they'd loved and lost.

Now, they sat in peaceful silence, letting the finality of it all sink in. She moved from the bay window, taking a place beside him silently. She parted her lips to say something, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, she let her head drop to his shoulder.

"I won't leave you fallin'," he said quietly.

"I know," she answered, moving her head against his shoulder in silent agreement.

But this was not a love song; the chapters of the story were unknown. They only knew that they had to live for that moment—and that moment only. What happened after that moment was of little importance.

- Fin
April 20, 2006
9, 047 words (original posting)