Lost Highway - Chapter 15

The friendliest place on the web for anyone that follows U2.
If you have answers, please help by responding to the unanswered posts.

WithoutSpeaking

Acrobat
Joined
Oct 18, 2009
Messages
304
Title: Lost Highway
Authors: 1screamingangel & wo_speaking
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Alas, wo_speaking is not Sam, and this is not true...

****************

Sam woke this time to the smell of coffee; Dave had drawn the curtains so the morning light didn’t wake her unnaturally. She sat up in his bed and spied a fluffy towel on the chair where his hat teased her last night, along with a note printed in neat, meticulous writing.

Good morning Sam, here’s a towel for you. There’s a shower in the main bathroom down the hall on the right.
- E


‘E’? she thought. Evans, she nodded to herself. Weird, why wouldn’t he sign it ‘Dave’? So full of secrets was Mr. Evans. She hoped to get to the bottom of some of them today.

She wrapped herself in the clean snow-white towel he’d left for her and tiptoed out to the bathroom. When she opened the door, she was surprised to see a bouquet of fresh flowers on the counter with a card addressed to her. She opened the card and there was his writing again ...

Please join me for breakfast when you’re through – I’ll be waiting.
- E


He’d thought this out, didn’t he? Flowers? Breakfast? He really was the sweetest thing. Sam had learned never to judge a book by its cover, yet she knew that everyone in this small town probably did just that when it came to Dave. She was so glad she’d taken the chance to get to know him – he really was a very considerate and interesting man. She wasn’t used to this at all, she’d always gone for the bad boys – and they were as selfish as they came. Dave had a devilish side, but it seemed to apply only in the bedroom; when she thought about it he’d been nothing but a perfect gentleman to her when they weren’t playing sexy games with each other. She could definitely get accustomed to a man like this.

She brushed her teeth with the new toothbrush he’d set out for her alongside a comb and bar of soap. She smiled to herself; he was so thoughtful.

After her shower she got dressed and tiptoed down the hall to the kitchen, following the smell of bacon and coffee.

He was sitting at the table with a pen and pad of paper when she stepped into the room. He jumped up to meet her, putting his arms around her and asking what kind of eggs she liked. He sure was trying hard to impress her, but little did he know he already had long ago.

As he finished making breakfast she couldn’t help but peek at what he had been writing when she’d joined him.

4/4: D – A – Bm – G – D – A – Bm – G ...

To the untrained eye it would look like some kind of cryptic mathematical formula, but Sam recognized it as a chord progression – he had been writing a song.

He set a plate in front of her, breaking her thoughts and stepping behind her, his hands warm on her shoulders. He leaned down and kissed her ear.

“Enjoy your breakfast, love,” he whispered as he massaged her shoulders lightly before preparing a plate for himself and joining her at the table.

She must have been dreaming, really. An intelligent, selfless, talented man who was not only amazing in bed but could also cook? So what if he was a little bit quirky, she could get used to that. The only thing that wasn’t perfect was that she had to leave him.

She looked at him across the table, admiring his kind eyes and gentle manner as he ate his breakfast. Was she honestly transfixed by the way he held his fork? She had to stop thinking like this; soon it would all be over. He smiled at her just then, and she decided she would think about him this way as long as she was in this town – she shouldn’t deny herself that. She wanted to live this moment, a moment where someone was making her happy ... because she didn’t have enough of those lately.

They ate for the most part in silence, sharing long gazes and shy smiles. They had been so intimate with each other, yet it seemed to be more difficult for the both of them to just be together outside of that.

Dave spoke first.

“When are you leaving?” he asked quietly, setting his fork down and taking a long sip of his coffee, looking away from her as he spoke, unable to meet her eyes.

“I ... I’m not sure ...” she answered, “probably tomorrow ...” She looked down at her empty plate and chewed on her bottom lip.

“Will you stay with me until you do?” he invited, reaching across the table and touching his fingertips to hers lightly before taking her hand in his.

“Yes ... of course I will,” she said softly, noticing how effortlessly his long, beautiful fingers wrapped around hers.
 
Back
Top Bottom