"I Saw You"
by pari106

pari106@hotmail.com ; http://www.geocities.com/pari106/damain.html ; Disclaimer: DA
is not mine; Rating: PG; Code: short, part of the "Inspired By: Dawg Day Afternoon"
collection, Annie's POV.

"I saw you." I told you that. And I really did, didn't I?

But not on the day you told me you were going back to France, like I thought. I saw you
even before that, on the night we had dinner together…and you showed me that painting.
I stood there, remembering "blue" and "green" as you guided my fingertips across

That was you I was touching, wasn't it?

I mean the real you. Not that friend you had pose as you, to keep your secret safe from
me. Not even the face I felt just now. That painting was the real you. And I was right to
guess it could tell me everything there is to know about you. If only I would listen.

I'm sorry I forgot that, Joshua. While you told me the truth… I'm sorry I forgot to
listen. To hear the nervousness and the vulnerability and the hurt behind your voice,
instead of concentrating so hard on what that voice was saying.

I mean, don't get me wrong… I'm not sorry for getting mad. I think I had that right.
After all, you did deceive me. But I understand why. And I'm sorry if I hurt you by not
understanding sooner.

The thing is, I was listening that night you showed me your painting. And what I heard… What that
painting told me about you, what you told me about yourself, just by the way you treated me that night, the
way you spoke to me… I don't meet people like you often, Joshua. In fact, I don't think I've ever met
anyone like you. I don't think anyone's ever treated me like a whole person the way you do, except maybe
my parents. And when I found out you'd deceived me, and realized there was no Mantiacoro… I felt like
I'd lost everything I'd found when I found you: a friend. Maybe my first true friend, besides Billy.

And that hurt me, too. It made me angry.

But that's not important now. What's important is getting you out of here safely. Getting you home. And,
yes, I'll come to see you again. Yes, I promise.

Because I saw you, Joshua. And I liked what I saw. I don't know what the rest of the world really sees
when they look at you…and for once maybe my blind eyes are an attribute. Because I don't want to know
what they see. All I need to know about you I already know.

I saw you. And what's more important…you saw me. You looked past my unseeing eyes and saw the real
me, the way I saw the real you in that painting.

And no matter what happens from this moment on, I'm glad for having known you, Joshua. Because that's
important, I think – to be seen for what we really are, and to be accepted anyhow.

But I don't think I have to tell you that. I'm sure you already know.