They checked into a B&B and entered the room talking about the weather and the journey. She set her bag on the floor and walked towards the window talking to him about how nice the room was. She turned to see him leaning against the table looking at her walk around. His hands were on either side of him clutching the rim of the table. His lips looked terse, and his hazel eyes had started to turn darker by the moment. She remembered how she loved how she could predict his mood with the change in his eye color. They looked at each other not knowing if it was a couple of seconds, or minutes, or more. Their memories of each other and what they used to be together was clouded by all the randomness and sequences which had torn them apart. A few collected memories and a solid wall of growing apart alone, had made them strangers to each other. She knew she had been waiting for this moment from the last time they'd seen each other a decade ago. As few and long as their conversations had been for the past 10 years, he was today more of a stranger to her than ever. She couldn't recognize him from the lover who had held her naked in her arms and kissed her lips till she couldn't feel them anymore. She didn't know she was walking towards him till she was about a feet away and could hear his heavy breathing. She thought if her heart beat any harder it would burst, and the imagination of a bloody bursting heart in such a situation wanted to make her giggle, but she couldn't. She had this quaint habit of easing a tense situation by making absurd comments, but today she couldn't put her thoughts together to make any quip or comment. His long legs were slightly apart as he rested on the edge of the table. He neither moved towards her nor away. He looked both strong as a pillar and as frightened as a deer caught in the beam of a car's headlights. He had been dreading this moment with all his might, and had tried staying away from being so vulnerable for as long as he could remember. She didn't know if the passion and madness she had experienced with him was real or made up in her mind while she tossed on her lonely bed through all those nights alone. She was finally standing so close to him, that she couldn't differentiate between the sound of his heartbeat and hers. She put her hands on his shoulders, and heard him catch his breath. She was scared he would push her away if she made any wrong move. She would give an arm and leg to know what thoughts went through that mind of his. She was now standing so close to him that both of them had to strain to keep their eyes on each other and not squint because of the proximity. She liked how strong his shoulders felt through his shirt and how hard his chest felt against her. She touched the pulse on his throat with her thumb and was fascinated by the color of his nerve against his pale skin. To be finally able to touch him, gave her a high, no amount of liquor or substance had ever given her. She leaned into smell his fragrance and a sigh escaped her lips. He heard her whisper how much she had missed his smell and how intoxicating it was to be so close to him again. He was powerless and couldn't fathom the control he felt slipping away from him. He'd never seen her be so confident and direct in her approach. She was not the girl he had left behind, when he had gone to conquer the demons of his existence; the demons that still existed and jeered him whenever he thought of being whole again. These demons had been tearing through him and had made him a victim to their whims and fancies. He held every fragment of his sanity by the most flimsiest of a container. She knew he had his battle scars that were still raw and fresh. The ones she had scarred him with, by not holding his hand as she had once promised she would, in spite of any adversary. They had both failed each other, and neither knew who was the bigger culprit. They had both kept reality at bay from their bubble years ago. That bubble had burst with the loudest pop and the sound still resonated in both their heads. She touched his strong jawline with her index finger and saw how it trailed a path to his chin and stopped there. She knew not how to look into his eyes, because she knew that if she looked she would lose all control and wasn't ready for that yet. She concentrated on his lips and how sharp his nose was. He really looked like a Greek God, and the years apart had made him more handsome, as if that was possible. How could someone so good looking become more good looking? She had always been insecure of her simple looks compared to his Adonis looks. He had had a wandering eye, and she could never understand how he had chosen to be with her all those years back. She still didn't dare to look into his eyes, and had no idea what he was seeing or thinking. She hoped he would continue to stay still, so she could etch every detail of his being into herself. She couldn't believe she had been given a second chance to be with him. She now put a hand over his chest to feel his thudding heart and into her soul. Being with him had always been something out of a movie, something make-believe. She touched his lips with the tip of her tongue, and felt the taste of him finally. It was her undoing. She could no longer be the smart alec, overtly assertive woman she'd become and not realizing started crying softly. Her body shook slightly and then uncontrollably as the long pent myriad of emotions took over any singular thought. He finally let go of the table and held her in his arms as they both let go of all anger, frustration, sadness, and pain in that embrace. He smelled like being home.
