Bonding through time
A/N: Everyone is free to enjoy this story in their own way. However, for a better experience, I recommend listening to "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron or "Memory 3" while you're reading. Here are the links to the songs:
The night we met
Memorie 3
A blinding white light enveloped them as a shelter. Slowly, their figures transformed drastically, regaining their original essence from before the events. Though with slight modifications: Lord Blumiere retained the white robes characteristic of his counterpart; Lady Timpani sported a butterfly ribbon and a shorter haircut.
Neither of them knew how much time had passed, whether they were in some kind of limbo, or if they had already joined Grambi.
The soft murmur of the wind was what finally woke them.
Timpani opened her eyes, shielding them from the relentless sunlight with one hand. Extending it, she blinked in disbelief, turning it and pulling it toward her several times, trying to determine if it had always been a part of her.
Then, she reacted and turned to the body lying beside her and shook it a few times, calling him by his name.
Lord's eyelids slowly opened, his pupils behind his monocle adjusting clearly to the new day's enlightenment.
They stood abruptly and took each other's hands. Blumiere stroked her right cheek, unable to tear his gaze from his loved one's ineffable eyes. Tippi, or rather Timpani, observed her beloved with a sad smile at his features she had long forgotten; now, Blumiere bore more scars than she was able to remember and a painful, harder gaze, cooled by the time they had spent separated.
They both sighed in unison, a mixture of nostalgia and disbelief in their gestures.
Blumiere took her in his arms. They admired the sweet panorama that surrounded them. Until Tippi seemed to shrink even further in his embrace and buried her face in Blumiere's chest, inhaling his scent of both distant promises and broken memories.
“Take me back to the night we met,” she whispered so softly that only he heard her.
She snuggled closer to his chest, clinging to his embrace with all of her strength. He didn't realize the lump in her throat or the anxiety that jailed her respiration.
He was still lost in her arms, unable to believe that they had finally made it. That despite life's cruel injustices and turns, they had found each other again; hanging on to that love, though a bit battered, still intact and as vibrant as ever, as if they had never been apart.
The former count succumbed to the overwhelming weight of love. Surrendering, he rested his head on hers. Their bosoms heaved with ragged breath. He decided to focus on the two of them, on nothing else. Truly, nothing else mattered anymore.
Silently, they both shed tears, with bitterness, sadness, and relief. Their chests contracted and expanded with difficulty. A couple of uncontrollable sobs were stifled by the air in their lungs.
Finally, they couldn't resist any longer and fell to their knees, one facing the other. They pressed their foreheads together, closing their eyes tightly, afraid to open them and have that fragile moment vanish, as it had before. But it didn't; their faces trembled with repressed emotions that now erupted.
Their pulses synchronized. Seconds, minutes, hours ceased to exist for them. They only needed… an instant.
He kissed her head repeatedly, then moved down to her face, erasing all traces of her fleeting loneliness and the sadness that had consumed her. Soft giggles escaped her lips beneath her gentle breath. He had missed that melody so much, her notes so perfect for him.
“Perhaps… I can take you there,” he murmured, turning his rough body, longing with all his might to look the woman of his dreams directly in the eyes. “Just… close your eyes and listen to the sound of the wind.”
She obeyed. Her slow breaths regularized, and she inhaled the beautiful redolence of freedom, that unique sentiment that had accompanied their love since eternity.
They looked up at the sky. White clouds, a blue sky. Suddenly, a piano melody, accompanied by the dazzling ticking of a clock, resonated in their ears. The atmosphere remained feverish, magical, and silent, but the melody echoed deep within their minds.
"I love you," they confessed in complete stillness, their lips still closed, but the words flowed naturally from their hearts; born from the love they had worked so hard to preserve.
Gradually, she leaned on his shoulder. Words were unnecessary. Neither of them knew for certain if they would still be alive the next day.
All they would do was savor the silence, the stillness, the company, that renewed glow in their hearts… a pure and real peace.
In the embodiment of the present, the past, and their future.
Together.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
