Lock Number For Vip Bags

[Original] The Lake House


Title: The Lake House


Fandom: Original


Beta:






namidayume


Prompt:

I want you to love me. I want you to love me because we are not dead. (Laurie Jupiter, Watchman)
@
Contest: Quotes from Watchman


Rating: Pg15


Word Count: 2683
(FDP)

Genre: Introspective
, Sentimental, Drama

Warnings:
sensitive issues that
I say this because there are spoilers of the ending. _.

Disclaimer: The characters in the story are mine, mine, mine. Any reference to existing people or real events is purely coincidental. Notes:
• Written for the contest Contest: Quotes from Watchman
on ' EFP Forum. \\ O / Board and the third to tie the winner of the Originality. ♥ • Err - the time the hated, now love him. In all of this because it is a thank Nami lovva and I was to hear more and more. XD ♥
The Lake House jeep pulled up at the beginning of the gravel driveway. From there, there were still several feet to walk before you reach the crossroads: the path to the left would lead to a promontory overlooking the lake, the route right at the house he was looking for.
He had visited many times, long ago, at the invitation of the parents of the Navy who went there on Sundays and holidays. That small, usually traveled with her hand in hand, listening to his crystal clear voice, she never forgot. got out and walked, and counts the steps that separated him from the crossroads, then turned right, without the slightest uncertainty. The gate of the house creaked when she opened it, and he instinctively thought that was supposed to clean it, oil it, weeding around them. We would have thought one of these days, or maybe next week, but would certainly so that the house could be as beautiful as his memories.
From wooden porch he could see perfectly smooth surface of the lake, its blue color, with the sun low in the late afternoon that there was reflected above. There was a driveway leading from the courtyard would take him right there - he was sure of going through that too, in the past - but now he did not care. Instead he opened the door and went in the large hall.
Marina, sitting on the couch, looked up at that moment. "You're back," he said smiling. Everything was exactly as he had left.
*
The last visit went back to the house five years ago: After had been boarded up and practically abandoned to itself. perfectly remembered the last time there was, the way in which the heat of the summer wind blew through the windows and curtains, the gentle grip of the hands of the Navy, benevolent faces of his parents. Remember, even the precise way in which she had greeted him in the evening, waving his hand sitting on that same couch.
"See you soon," he said.
Instead they had not seen any more. *

The idea of return could not say where he had had. Simply put, without realizing it, a day he found himself driving in that direction, and mile after mile, had arrived at the lake. Only when he had parked had understood what had happened.

From there to turn it into a routine it took very little. Marina received him smiling all the times seemed happy in his light-colored suit, never worried. Where possible, we try to see every week, driving to the house on Saturday afternoon - or even on Sundays, every now and then - and remains until sunset. Only when the sun set over the horizon and the mirror of his image disappeared from the lake, we decided to go home.
In some cases, However, commitments of various kinds prevented him and was able to visit them less often, or for less time. Marina did not seem to import, greeted him with the same happy attitude, kissing her lips in a way that reminded him of his youth and rose bushes that once grew in the same courtyard, and which were now all dead. His round face, a kid he was, just was veiled with sadness when he was forced to say goodbye. Not to leave, however, never asked him, as if really afraid that detachment: he suspected it was because he had the certainty that he would never have stopped going to find it. *


Teresa met in the most ordinary way: gave it to a friend that he hoped to awaken from the torpor in which, he said, had slipped some time. Somehow, she succeeded. He liked it, the enthusiasm, cheered him, and was simply a matter of weeks before they started dating.

Navy was to explain it, unexpectedly, almost easier: he knew even before he opened his mouth and him when he spoke, just nodded and look away - perhaps into the heart of the lake.

"I accept it," he replied, and he felt as if he had granted permission.


*


Asked about her will only put later, in the months that followed.
"What is your name?" He asked in a summer afternoon, usually sitting on the couch. The heat did not seem to have no effect on her, always composed and orderly. She stared at him until he answered carefully, and only then added: "He has a name that smacks of rain and wet earth, is not it?" Rise of embarrassment, perhaps with a hint of cruelty.

In December, just before Christmas, instead he asked: "Is she beautiful?"
again laughed and said instead: "It must be." There was nothing that resembled envy, in tone, but all led to the glacial jealousy.

While the courtyard was filled once again high and thorny weeds in May, said, "L'ami?"


Yes, he thought, but immediately corrected himself:
No, I love you
. Finally he shrugged his shoulders, as if it had not at all important. Marina seemed to be going so well.
*


Enter between those walls had something to do with the entrance into a limbo. There he broke off and the reality did not exist for him that the girl he had loved, even became a thought Teresa same pale, lying in the back of his mind, pushed aside because they do not take the place of Marina Marina was and always would be.

The years slipped away did not seem that simple moments in the house on the lake, and his life was marked by the visits, which always were close too each other. As the story became more serious with Teresa, Marina became more possessive, began to be in his thoughts every day, every night, every moment.

"You ought to get out of here," he said before he left, but he could negarglielo - he seemed to still have a will, despite everything.


*
Although it was winter, Marina was wearing one of his light-colored clothing and light, never did cold in that house, even to him, seemed to be always summer, although a cold wind blowing outside and the windows you could see the tree branches sway.

That day she seemed uneasy, nervous, wringing her hands clasped in her lap and looked into his eyes. When he finally did, seemed to have access to all his thoughts and he N'ebbe fear.

"Have you decided to marry her," he said, without inflection interrogative: was saying something he knew to be true.

It was, in fact. The Teresa had asked that morning, because part of him thought it was what he needed, that was exactly quell'ingranaggio missing that would then allowed his life to work. But what seemed far from the house on the lake right into it seemed incredibly wrong.

"Yes," was all he could replicate, in a barely audible puff of breath. Marina stared at him, not that he was able to clearly read the words he felt only un'indistinta concern arise from the pit of my stomach and get to shake your heart. Then she moved her eyes, stood up and reached the nearest window. It seemed that the wind had stepped out of that now somehow able to penetrate inside. Shoulders, Marina seemed too small and too fragile in his eighteen year old body, but his voice as he spoke, sounded anything but thin.

"I want to love me," he began. "I want to love me, because we're not both dead, and I want you to do it until your last breath. I want to be your one and I thought that there is no one else, no one

. "He paused and his tone became softer, almost hopeful. "Can you promise me?"

answered without thinking, because in truth, had they already made that promise long ago, otherwise there would still be there in the lake house. Now it was just point out the obvious, a voice to tell her that yes, would love her until the last heartbeat. "I promise you," he murmured.

Marina smiled and summer invaded the room again.


* The months passed quickly and the day before the wedding came in a flash. He went once more to the lake house, where she was waiting for him smiling as usual, not at all worried.
She hugged him, made him lie down beside him on the carpet in the middle of the living room and stroked his hair for hours, with its small and delicate hands, kissing cheeks. "Think of me when you come to the altar, right?" He asked in a whisper, shortly before he decided to leave.
"You know that this will happen," he said. Started to rise, then, for the first time but she stopped him. That night back in the real world much later than usual, when darkness had already fallen, and none of his friends, however, asked him where he was.

*


Sometimes, the brightness of Teresa seemed to be enough. He lived with this feeling for most of the honeymoon, enjoying life in Paris as if it were truly his own and as if the lake house was only one place in the past.

Then, at a street corner he seemed to see Marina and the weight of the feelings that are dragged behind came to be felt for years, coupled with the guilt that caused that happiness without her. Teresa noted, from that moment he stopped a moment's notice for each change.
*


"It is as beautiful as they say, France?"

The question lingered for several moments in the living room flooded with sunshine. Marina was distracted, not at all anxious to hear the answer, felt that he had spoken to inertia, because just watching him - as if it were important to his presence, but his thoughts. He was certain that she perceived her agitation, which clearly read his mood.

"You were there," she found herself saying, even before he realized he had opened his mouth. "You were there. How is it possible? "

Marina finally turns to look, in an attentive. It seemed that the application be incomprehensible, that would serve a further analysis to understand it perfectly. After what seemed long minutes, her lips bent in a sweet smile and replied: "I am everywhere you want, silly."

There was nothing he could add.


*
Teresa began to ask questions: what to keep him in mind, the Marina, the life they spent together, where to go when disappeared for hours. He sometimes did not respond, sometimes trying to be vague, bore his insistence trying not to expose themselves to keep her unaware of what he was doing.

It said it was to protect, not hurt, but the truth was that he was protecting himself, because Teresa meant to tell all to come to terms with reality and come out hopelessly defeated.

He tried to put a stop to the visits to the lake house for some time, to be closer to his wife and give her the normalcy that so much sought, stay away from the Navy, however, was never easy: the more if detach it physically, the more the thought of her became and remained stifling the urge to reach it or leave it further.
Whenever instinct grew louder and he could hardly restrain himself, Teresa noticed. He should imagine that he could not go on for so long.

*


There was nothing more strange to see that the Theresa along the dirt road, arriving at the fork, take the street on the right and open the gate with a bang the house creaking. The went behind quickly, trying to calm her, to give meaning to his screams, the thought that it had followed previously, to know where to go so well, just because it touched upon had very little importance. He dared not ask for an explanation, not even speak, because what was happening exactly as she had feared: the clash between the two worlds between which for years had divided.

Teresa's footsteps echoed on the wooden porch Finally, shortly before he opened the door and finds herself immersed in the afternoon light flooding the living room. To see it there, within those walls, so real and true, he made the whole room look different, let it be noted that had been gathering dust on the furniture, wiped out in just a few points - the ones that he, in his several visits , had touched -, the white sheets covering the seats, the carpet rolled up in a corner.
Teresa's voice, which boomed in the emptiness of the house, he confirmed everything that was feared, nothing would have been the same.
"This house is deserted

," he shouted, turning to him and spreading his arms. Feel so exasperated and desperate not like it at all, but he knew that to break his heart were the next words that she would have spoken. At the extreme confrontation with the reality could not have survived.

"There is all in your head," she continued, in fact. And again: "Marina is dead almost ten years ago, there's more! Keep coming back here is not the really back! "
His every word took off a piece to the fiction that, in all that time, he had built and had lived. Brought back those memories, the real ones: the night thinking he had greeted her again after just a couple of days, the news of the accident where the car his father had been involved, the expression against the doctor that, looking closely into his eyes, he told them that nothing more could be done. And the funeral, the pain, the way that Marina's mother had shaken hands and had recommended to go forward, be strong.
He clearly was not at all, and now I was paying the pledge.
Teresa
wiped her eyes and breathed deeply. His voice began to tremble. "I can not go on like this," he said, looking down, and pulled his faith. He covered the distance that separated them, the raised his hand and put the ring on his palm. "Come back to me when you're done you a reason and you will be left all this behind."

Then he crossed and slid through the door left open. He even turned to look at, but something told him that would be the last time he would see her.


*


He had no idea how long he remained there, sitting on the couch to turn over the dusty faith Teresa in her hands. He could not even indicate what he thought, what decisions had considered, simply, suddenly, looked up and she had appeared, as delicate and fragile all the time.
He wanted to go, she shut her eyes and counted to twenty, but when she reopened them she had not moved an inch. "You exist only in my head," he had said then. "Not true."
Marina showed no surprise. "I am not," agreed, approaching a couple of steps.

"I want you to go," he continued. Marina stepped forward yet.

I can not. This is not what you really want, " replicò, ancora imperturbabile. Poi sorrise, con la sua consueta dolcezza: «Ricordi? Hai promesso.»

Lo aveva fatto e non poteva fingere il contrario, non poteva mentire. Considerando chiusa la questione, Marina lo raggiunse. Gli sfilò di mano la fede di Teresa che ancora stringeva e, con uno sguardo curioso, la indossò. La sua risata cristallina, mentre ammirava l’anello sul proprio anulare, riempì la casa.

Lui comprese in quel momento che non c’era modo di tornare indietro.
*


Il fuoristrada non era il mezzo migliore per attraversare quella stradina sterrata. Sentiva le fronde degli alberi sbattere contro la carrozzeria, graffiarla, rompersi impact, the stones and dry leaves crunched under the wheels, accompanied meter by meter as the car gathered speed. Quick
, at the junction turn left along the last stretch with the accelerator fully depressed.

The jump lasted a moment and then there was only the splash caused by the surface of the lake affected by the vehicle and the water splashed everywhere, cracked windows and windscreens. Fast like sand in an hourglass, the cabin began to fill, by filtering each split while the car was sinking more and more.

Marina was at her side. He laughed, as if they had just taken a ride on the rides, and he could not help but join her. I want you to love me until your last breath , and had told him at that moment, that point of arrival finally seemed close, she was finally free.

He watched carefully and asked: "What now?"

The Navy's amused expression changed, becoming an affectionate smile. He moved his hand over his and shook it, as if to give courage. "Now you can stop."

His serene face was the last thing he saw.




two
Notes: • The banner, made by
Shurei
: