Angst, Fluff, and Inferno
This entry is part 48 of 51 in the series 365 Challenge
Let's take the third first. Overhauling the story from inferno, aka "Dowse and Bleed," left me feeling drained and exhausted, but it's out to beta and may she not find any more structural issues that need addressing. For that matter, may I not!
On angst: I write a lot of it. I know that. I've ( Read more... )
Wesley was the one who kept the journals, enough of them to overflow the bookcases in their room and down the hall. They both wrote notes on different pictures, answers to the questions he woke with every week before he knew her again and knew that she was his.
But Lena kept the dream box.
Every week, when she was a little girl, she would add a new dream or wish into her box. Ten months after she married Wesley, she began making a monthly tradition of opening that box and slipping one perfect dream, one fulfilled wish into an envelope and telling him how he had made it come true.
When Lena opened the box this month and pulled out the very last slip of paper, she smiled but added no notes or comments, just tucked it in a pretty printed envelope and sealed it before laying it on her husband’s pillow.
Seven perfect years and they had talked about this and dreamed about it and even fought about it, but he had finally agreed and she had waited until Friday to give it to him. Though Wesley forgot almost everything every week, usually by Friday he was comfortable with the life he knew he had, regardless of how much he remembered it.
When Wesley saw the envelope that evening, he opened it and Lena worried at her lip with her teeth from the doorway until she saw the startled, wondering expression on his face.
A mother. She had wanted to be a mother.
He turned to her and looked at her, and she couldn’t read him, but somehow she knew he was not displeased or afraid.
She came and tucked her hands into his. “My dream box is empty.”
Wesley looked at her, reading her. He leaned closer and kissed her as he pulled her into his arms. “Are you sure about this?” he asked softly, worried.
Lena nodded against his shoulder. “You are exactly the father I want for my baby.”
Neither spoke for a long while. It seemed that they swayed gently together as if dancing to inaudible music.
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I like the dream box idea, and her sharing that with him was perfect.
And they get to have a baby. Cute. :)
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