Fated Return

Her heart fluttered and her cheeks flushed. A wave of dizziness swept across her forehead making her blink. It couldn't be him. There is no way it's him.

The palm of her right hand settled on her chest as her left reached for the wall. She narrowed her gaze, taking in the familiar slope of his shoulders and color of his hair. Across the room was an apparition or vision--an impossible sight in the form of a man she had thought gone forever.

He did not move, but stood straight and tall, silent as the cornerstone of the building they were in. His face was drawn--worn and pale as if all warmth had been pulled from his flesh.

Anchored in the shadows, he stood with his gaze tracing her face and features. Yet his eyes were distant. The shine of love and longing she had known was gone. It had been replaced by something dim and foreign by comparison.

Recognition was gone. Emotion was gone. Where there was once an intensity so strong she could drown by just looking into his eyes, now there was nothing. The dull light in those hazel rings held little more than awareness.

And yet there had been a spark. Something had flared within him upon seeing her. She had seen it, had felt it in the flutter of her heart and intake of her breath. But it was gone now. Whatever had flashed within him had been snuffed out and replaced by the blank expression on his immobile features.

But it was him, she was sure of it... and yet it wasn't him.

Sorrow grabbed her by the throat. She wanted to scream and cry. Here he was--her lost love, her all, her intended. They had made plans for a family and a home. They would complete each other, his strengths and hers melded into a unit that would bind them as one.

Yet all that had changed when he disappeared.

There had been no warning, nothing to give her a hint something was wrong. They had spoken the day before, even stolen some time together. His lips had been soft upon hers, his breath rough with desire. There had been the promise of "later," but later never came. He did not return from his work that night or came to see her home.

The next day was the same. As was the next. After a month of waiting and searching she had begun to lose hope. No one knew where he was or what had drawn him away. No one had seen him return that night or leave the next day. He had just vanished and taken her joy along with him.

Yet here he was now, standing before her in the very spot they had first met. Whole and upright, unbroken and yet silent. He was so very, very silent.

She lowered her hands to her sides and took a step forward. "John?"

He blinked in a way that communicated no more than an acknowledgement that she spoken. But there was no surprise or excitement, joy or resentment. He was blank--empty--as if who had been there before had been extracted and replaced with a paper copy.

Her brows pulled together as she took another step. Her heart pounded. Her fingers trembled. She wanted nothing more than to press against him and entwine her arms behind his back. But he did not appear to feel the same. He seemed to feel nothing... and that scared her.

She was not sure why his inaction bothered her so much, but the lack of life in his eyes was a part of it. His usually red cheeks were gray and his stance tense. He stood as if uncomfortable with the way his arms hung from his shoulders and his torso sat upon his legs. He appeared out-of-place as if he belonged in a world that held no color, joy, or excitement.

With a gnawing ache she took the final step that brought him within reach. His focus shifted to her hand before his eyes closed. His lips sealed and his jaw clenched. Lines of concentration formed upon his brow.

A warning rang in her head. None of this was right. It was not right for him to be here or her to be alone this late at night.

A chill slipped down her spine and she hesitated in her reach. Something was deeply wrong with him--no--everything was wrong with him. But it was still him and somehow she knew he had returned for her.

Her fingers brushed his cheek and his eyes opened. "Is it really you?" she asked.

In the dim light his pupils were large and his gaze intense.

"I thought I would never see you again." She pressed her palm to the side of his face. "You're freezing."

Her fingers slipped from his jaw and still he did not move. He did not reach out or speak. He just stared at her departing wrist.

A hole opened in her chest that was raw and angry. If it were a real wound it would have gushed down her waist and all over the floor, but it was just an emotional response. It was her heart breaking again at his disappearance. Whatever had happened or taken him away had changed him. It had removed the part of him she knew and loved.

She wanted to deny it, to argue that he was here and could be restored. She could be the one to help with that, although a part of her knew that was not so. Part of her knew that he was gone for good; and the moment he looked up from her wrist she saw that it was true.

Gone was the blank stare and empty vessel. The silence and immobility that had consumed him was discarded in a rush as his left hand caught hers in an iron grip.

She gulped, her gaze captured by the voracious hunger in his eyes. With sudden terror she watched his lips part. She wanted to scream, but his right hand was upon her mouth sealing in her surprise. A tear trickled down her cheek.

With a swift yank he pulled her against his cold chest. The hair on her skin rose. The thunder of her heart grew loud in her ears. No matter how much she kicked, he paid her no heed. Then pain as sharp as twin needles drew her eyes wide.

She gasped around his fingers, air seeping into her nose and stared lungs. A groan left her as the piercing tips sank deeper. It was hot and moist around the intrusion and for a moment her mind registered his mouth against her neck. Then her thoughts began to fade.

Her vision blurred. Panic set in as the weight of her limbs increased. She could not breathe or even think. Within his arms she sank gasping. Her head lulled against him and before blackness came she knew nothing but the intense pain and sound of his muffled satisfaction.