|Subject: Chapter 300 - Part 2 (16 and above) (end of chapter 300)
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Date Posted: Wednesday, August 01, 07:08:09am
In reply to:
's message, "Dreams in the Dark - continues with chapter 289 >" on Monday, June 18, 06:55:17am
They discovered this together, looking up in their half-embrace to find Annie and Fredericks approaching with a cake with two lit candles. When Michael looked bemused, Nikita trying to will away her tears, their cook smiled at them. "I made it for your birthday," she nodded at the actor. Her gaze wandered tenderly over to the woman in his arms. "I wanted you to have a chance to celebrate, before you left."
Oh. It was a lovely sort of gesture, brought Nikita out in a new flood of tears--grateful ones this time; her eyes were loving, as the other woman set the confection down on a side table. "Thank you," she whispered. She just wasn't certain how she would be able to express it enough.
The pair before them nodded in their caring way, watching the tormented couple for just a second, before they turned to go. When they reached the door, Annie spoke once more. "I just wanted to remind you how fortunate you both are." And, with that, she and her husband left them for the night.
It was a well-timed reminder. Michael looked back to his wife, quickly found that she hadn't been aware of the plan--but he did recognize her part in it, nonetheless, doubting that Annie was quite so well-informed. He kissed Nikita softly once, reminding himself of the truth. Whatever his fears, he did have her now; he held her hand, turning toward the cake. So long as he could find any gifts of self to give her, perhaps he would be fortunate enough for that to continue.
Oh. She saw this in his gaze, understood his absolute devotion--tried to remind herself of the facts, as she watched him close his eyes before blowing out the candles. For some reason, he *did* love her; her hand squeezed his tightly, thankful beyond words. All she needed to do was be here--and pray that she would always have something he actually wanted to be able to offer him in the future.
He looked back to her a moment later, their eyes holding all of their love; her smile was soft. "What did you wish for?" But the answer he gave nearly made her heart pound out of her chest.
He said nothing to this at first, simply stood both of them up, undressing her slowly before removing his own clothes. When she let out a deep moan, he pulled back the covers, guiding them both into bed. But the gesture alone nearly made her forget the question.
Lying on their sides, his hand caressing over her hair, his answer was probably obvious; she smiled, tracing over his shoulder, as she told him the truth. "You know you have me, Michael. You don't need to waste any wishes on this."
This never would have been wasted for him, despite the miracle she gave him, the welcoming of all his love. Still, this hadn't quite been his wish. More accurately, he had prayed for a reunion with her in the not-so-distant future, a permanent, healthy, loving one. He had wished for a life together with her, their child, and their future children. And he had fervently hoped that there would be no other terrors to come along to torment them after that.
He didn't tell her any of this, however, not wishing to play with destiny in even the smallest way. Too many other parts of their lives were so uncertain, every day fraught with potential disaster. Circumventing even one was a herculean feat, required constant attention; his hand tangled itself in her hair, cupping the side of her beautiful face. But she--and their happy future together--would always have the entirety of his.
There was no easy way to put this into words, the best he could do quite understated. "I love you," he whispered. But it would always be the truth.
She knew it, was blinking back tears--was starting, despite herself, to feel a little guilty again. She tried to explain it. "I'm sorry I won't be with you on your birthday, Michael." She shrugged softly--while doing her best not to displace his touch--slight tears in her eyes. "I didn't even get you a present." Her hand swept lovingly over his back. Not that anything she could possibly buy him could begin to express her love.
He knew this--saw all the desperate devotion in her eyes--tried his best to take it in for the long months or years ahead of them, reminding himself of the facts. All their shared terrors were only the natural outcome of their devotion--loving someone always equal parts joy and fear. He wouldn't let it rule them, his voice soft, thumb stroking down her cheek, as he told her the truth. "You're my present, Nikita." He leaned in, kissing her softly--showing her all of his love there, before he started to pull back, gaze and soul entirely her own. "You're the only gift on earth that matters to me at all."
The tenderness, the absolute truth, of these words pierced his wife's heart, the adoration flowing from her along with her soft tears. "I love you, Michael," she wept quietly, her hand so gentle against his cheek; she had to bite her lower lip for a moment, trying to find the words. "Please don't ever leave me."
This might have seemed like an impossible request, given what the morning would bring. Still, he understood, had no intention of it--leaning in very close, utterly capturing her gaze. "Never, Nikita." His thumb stroked over her temple. "There will never be any living part of me but you."
This was a vow--if an odd one. But his wife understood, the tears soon mixing into their kiss--her one, last answer whispered against his lips. "Thank you." That was all that really mattered. So long as each of them knew that they were loved, would never have to battle for their lover's affections, they could go on; the kiss deepened, the devotion complete. Nothing else existed of the world outside of that--but nothing else was important at all.
[End of Part 300]
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