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ayumidahAya tires quickly of New York. Never accumulating much in the way of material items, it's easy for her to pick up and leave once more, content to leave the bustling city and its surrounding countrysides behind. She takes a bus to Virginia and finds herself in a charming town called Chase City, Virginia. With only a little over two thousand people within its limits, it's quiet and comfortable, surrounded by fields of vegetation. She has some savings still from New York, and she uses this to rent an apartment while she job hunts. The landlord, a woman named Kris, is sweet and seemingly uninterested in causing Aya grief, easily agreeing to month to month tenancy while Aya gets her feet under her.
She moves in right away and begins the job search, filling out applications in town and at surrounding areas. Between pounding pavement and actual interviews, which trickle in slowly, she finds herself enamored with a large house in the distance, old and regal looking. It sparks something inside of her every time she looks out of the window at its rustic charm. It's a chance meeting one day when she realizes she's speaking to one of the people currently living inside of the house that's captured her imagination for so long.
His name's Mike Mitchell. He's charming and intense, deep blue eyes staring at her while they discuss the town and where she used to live, spiked dirty blond hair glistening in the sun overhead. Her feelings for the house extend to him and she can tell he senses it, welcomes it even. Flirts with her when he sees her, his fingers soft against her skin as he brushes the hair out of her eyes, smiling at her a little longer than seems necessary. When she gets hired at a nearby shop, which is a humble beginning but enough to pay the rent and scattered other bills she has, he visits a couple of times a week, quickly becoming every day. The manager can't complain, however, because he always find something to buy when he does come in.
Their first kiss a few weeks later is slow and tentative, Aya gripping his collar and wondering about the fluttering feeling that spreads from her stomach to her chest as he pulls back and smiles at her, eyes gleaming in the moonlight. She'd never had time for romance before but with him, she thinks she wants it all. A dream of a life begins to map itself out for her slowly, marriage and children in that house, a warm, happy journey with his self-assured intensity and her quiet imagination coming together to make something magical.
The ghost of his touch is still warming every inch of her skin, his breathy whisper in her ear making her soul sing, when she wakes up to find a plume of smoke rising into the grey clouds in the distance. Her heart stops as she peers out of the window, breathless and shivering. She doesn't bother to find her shoes, or change into street clothes. Still wearing pajamas and socks, she rushes out of the apartment entrance and down the street, cutting through a growing crowd of people who are gawking and whispering as the well-known house burns to nothing.
She doesn't see where she's going, tears slipping down her face as she searches for him. She can't speak, can barely walk without stumbling, and every second that passes hurts her physically. There are firemen everywhere, struggling to fight the overpowering flames, but there is nothing to be done, she can tell already. Had seen similar fires in New York the rare times she'd gone to the city, left with the uncomfortable images of destruction and terrible trauma for the people involved. Firemen are grabbing her, stopping her from going any further, but she barely registers their words, their insistent explanations that she can't go any further, when...
"Aya!"
She freezes, feeling her heart beat hard for the first time since she'd looked out of her window, a rough breath following. Turning slowly, she stares back towards the ambulance she'd walked past a few moments earlier and breaks down, tears pouring down her face as Mike shrugs off an oxygen mask and pulls away from the EMTs, holding his arms out to her. She chokes and runs to him, burying herself in his familiar warmth. He strokes her hair and kisses her forehead, getting soot and the clinging smell of smoke everywhere, but she couldn't care less about such trivial things now. "I thought you were gone," she breathes into his shirt, tugging at the very fabric that she had held onto during their first kiss the night before.
It had stabilized her then, it steadies her now as he pulls back and stares down at her. "I'm not the type to steal a first kiss and then leave," he tells her softly, brushing the tears out of her eyes.
She laughs weakly and nods, leaning up on her bare feet to nuzzle against him. "I'm glad to hear it," she whispers. They stare absently over at the slowly diminishing fire, the house all but gone now. "I loved that house. It looked so beautiful..."
"I'm sorry you never got to see the inside of it," he tells her, stroking her back.
"Me too," she mumbles. "But what are you going to do now?" A sudden fear takes her over as she imagines him leaving now, when they're on the cusp of something special. He doesn't say anything, looking clueless and vulnerable, wearing smoke-drenched clothes and each breath rattling in his chest thanks to the smoke. She takes his hand and leads him back to the ambulance, the EMT immediately pushing the oxygen mask back on him as he sits down, Aya curling up next to him and listening to him breathe for a few moments. "Move in with me," she says abruptly.
He coughs then looks down at her. "What?!"
"For as long as you want," she explains hastily. "A day, a week, whatever you need to get your feet back on the ground. Just please... don't leave. It's selfish but I don't know many people around here and I think we have something special growing... I want you to stay in town."
He chuckles and hugs her close. "I didn't have any plans on leaving," he tells her. "I've lived here my entire life, it'd take more than a house fire to run me out... But yes, if the offer stands, I'll stay with you for a little bit. Thank you."
She smiles as he leans in and, after remembering to pull the oxygen mask off with a sheepish grin, kisses her.
She moves in right away and begins the job search, filling out applications in town and at surrounding areas. Between pounding pavement and actual interviews, which trickle in slowly, she finds herself enamored with a large house in the distance, old and regal looking. It sparks something inside of her every time she looks out of the window at its rustic charm. It's a chance meeting one day when she realizes she's speaking to one of the people currently living inside of the house that's captured her imagination for so long.
His name's Mike Mitchell. He's charming and intense, deep blue eyes staring at her while they discuss the town and where she used to live, spiked dirty blond hair glistening in the sun overhead. Her feelings for the house extend to him and she can tell he senses it, welcomes it even. Flirts with her when he sees her, his fingers soft against her skin as he brushes the hair out of her eyes, smiling at her a little longer than seems necessary. When she gets hired at a nearby shop, which is a humble beginning but enough to pay the rent and scattered other bills she has, he visits a couple of times a week, quickly becoming every day. The manager can't complain, however, because he always find something to buy when he does come in.
Their first kiss a few weeks later is slow and tentative, Aya gripping his collar and wondering about the fluttering feeling that spreads from her stomach to her chest as he pulls back and smiles at her, eyes gleaming in the moonlight. She'd never had time for romance before but with him, she thinks she wants it all. A dream of a life begins to map itself out for her slowly, marriage and children in that house, a warm, happy journey with his self-assured intensity and her quiet imagination coming together to make something magical.
The ghost of his touch is still warming every inch of her skin, his breathy whisper in her ear making her soul sing, when she wakes up to find a plume of smoke rising into the grey clouds in the distance. Her heart stops as she peers out of the window, breathless and shivering. She doesn't bother to find her shoes, or change into street clothes. Still wearing pajamas and socks, she rushes out of the apartment entrance and down the street, cutting through a growing crowd of people who are gawking and whispering as the well-known house burns to nothing.
She doesn't see where she's going, tears slipping down her face as she searches for him. She can't speak, can barely walk without stumbling, and every second that passes hurts her physically. There are firemen everywhere, struggling to fight the overpowering flames, but there is nothing to be done, she can tell already. Had seen similar fires in New York the rare times she'd gone to the city, left with the uncomfortable images of destruction and terrible trauma for the people involved. Firemen are grabbing her, stopping her from going any further, but she barely registers their words, their insistent explanations that she can't go any further, when...
"Aya!"
She freezes, feeling her heart beat hard for the first time since she'd looked out of her window, a rough breath following. Turning slowly, she stares back towards the ambulance she'd walked past a few moments earlier and breaks down, tears pouring down her face as Mike shrugs off an oxygen mask and pulls away from the EMTs, holding his arms out to her. She chokes and runs to him, burying herself in his familiar warmth. He strokes her hair and kisses her forehead, getting soot and the clinging smell of smoke everywhere, but she couldn't care less about such trivial things now. "I thought you were gone," she breathes into his shirt, tugging at the very fabric that she had held onto during their first kiss the night before.
It had stabilized her then, it steadies her now as he pulls back and stares down at her. "I'm not the type to steal a first kiss and then leave," he tells her softly, brushing the tears out of her eyes.
She laughs weakly and nods, leaning up on her bare feet to nuzzle against him. "I'm glad to hear it," she whispers. They stare absently over at the slowly diminishing fire, the house all but gone now. "I loved that house. It looked so beautiful..."
"I'm sorry you never got to see the inside of it," he tells her, stroking her back.
"Me too," she mumbles. "But what are you going to do now?" A sudden fear takes her over as she imagines him leaving now, when they're on the cusp of something special. He doesn't say anything, looking clueless and vulnerable, wearing smoke-drenched clothes and each breath rattling in his chest thanks to the smoke. She takes his hand and leads him back to the ambulance, the EMT immediately pushing the oxygen mask back on him as he sits down, Aya curling up next to him and listening to him breathe for a few moments. "Move in with me," she says abruptly.
He coughs then looks down at her. "What?!"
"For as long as you want," she explains hastily. "A day, a week, whatever you need to get your feet back on the ground. Just please... don't leave. It's selfish but I don't know many people around here and I think we have something special growing... I want you to stay in town."
He chuckles and hugs her close. "I didn't have any plans on leaving," he tells her. "I've lived here my entire life, it'd take more than a house fire to run me out... But yes, if the offer stands, I'll stay with you for a little bit. Thank you."
She smiles as he leans in and, after remembering to pull the oxygen mask off with a sheepish grin, kisses her.
