The motel room that
Muriel walked into wasn't noteworthy in any way -- it was neither
expensive, nor cheap, but still reminiscent of vacationing on a
budget -- with a slight musty smell and worn carpet that was
clean and well-maintained. Muriel slowly pulled off her coat,
revealing a pink sweater worn over a baggy white blouse, and hung it
up on the coat stand near the door. She shivered slightly, hugged
herself, and rubbed her arms, then turned up the thermostat on the
heater underneath the front window before sitting down on one of the
two queen-sized beds, where she opened her backpack. She sifted
through it and pulled out a photograph of her parents and stared at
it.
She had almost
forgotten.
How could she
forget?
Burning tears stung
her eyes as she crumpled up the picture and threw it away in the
small garbage can by the bed; she didn't know why she had packed it
in the first place. Trying very hard to hide any signs of crying, she
hurriedly grabbed the bag and ran to the bathroom, locking the door
behind her.
Aion stood straight
and tall in the doorway as a frozen breeze blew past him and into the
room, taking a moment to look at the garbage can, his face hard and
unreadable. In his mind he was weighing something, considering it
carefully, until another thought came to him and broke him out of his
brooding. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out the key-cards
for their room, and put one down on the nearby table, before quietly
leaving.
The hot steamy
shower reminded Muriel of how cold she had been, and the contrast
hurt almost too much to bear. She had to acclimate herself slowly,
starting at lukewarm and gradually adjusting the temperature up,
wondering when the prickling goosebumps that covered her skin would
subside. There was something inside that was untouched by the water
and heat, a sort of emptiness that kept her feeling chilled in the
center of her bones. She couldn't remember if it had always been
there, but her skin was turning bright red, so she slowly turned the
water off and stepped out of the tub.
After she wrapped
herself up a towel, Muriel stared at herself in the mirror, water
dripping from her sopping hair. Her face looked strange and
unfamiliar, and she felt sure that it belonged to someone else. She
didn't like her hair, which seemed too dark and too short, even
though it hung to her shoulders. Somehow, that didn't seem like her;
it didn't seem like how she would keep her hair. Her eyes were a
pretty shade of hazel, but they had a haunted look that frightened
her. She couldn't think of why her eyes would look like that. She
quickly turned from the mirror and rummaged through her backpack
looking for clothes, but, again, it felt like she was intruding on
someone else's life. The jeans were too big around the waist, and she
had to belt them to make them stay up. The blouses were all baggy,
bland, and unappealing. She pulled on something pink, because it
seemed like the most vibrant thing she could find, and she didn't
want to feel faded.
Exiting the
bathroom, Muriel was surprised to see a burger bag sitting on the
table next to the mini fridge. She didn't realize that she had been
in the bathroom long enough for the man to leave and come back, but
she appreciated that he had thought to bring her food; he must
have gone to one of those all-right places, because the clock next to
the bed read one. Muriel reached into the bag and was shocked to
realize that the food was cold; she slowly sank down into a chair,
baffled at how that was possible. It had felt like she had been in
the bathroom for only a few minutes.
How long had it
been? She hadn't checked the time when they arrived; now, she wished
she had. She felt fuzzy and awful; a strange buzzing began in her
head, carrying her focus away for a moment.
The door opened and
Aion stepped in, pausing to take off his coat, but Muriel stared
blankly ahead of her, not responding to his appearance. She looked
listless, but he wasn't surprised. He walked over to her and very
carefully took one of her hands, watching to make sure that she
didn't flinch or look frightened.
“Do you remember
me?” he whispered.
Her eyes focused on
his face and she frowned, trying hard to grasp something that
wouldn't come to her. She knew that she knew him, but the answer of
who he was wouldn't come to her. “I don't … know,” she
murmured.
“What's your
name?” he asked.
She paused, alarmed
that she didn't immediately know. Then, with some relief, she found
herself replying, “Muriel,” and didn't give any indication that
it felt like someone else had answered for her.
“Where are we?”
the man asked.
That one seemed
easy. “In a hotel room.”
“Where?”
It wasn't an easy
question after all, and she lowered her head, biting her lip for a
moment to repress the urge to cry before muttering, “… I don't
remember.”
Aion gently stroked
the top of her head, his fingers sending tingles through Muriel's
scalp and down her neck, seemingly satisfied, despite her inability
to remember such simple things. “Go ahead and eat, and don't
worry,” he said gently. “You're experiencing a fugue state, but
it's nothing to be alarmed about. You'll grow used to them in time.”
She wanted to cry
again, because his gentleness hurt in a way that didn't make sense.
To cover it up, she quickly asked, “How long have we been here?”
“About two
hours.”
Muriel nodded and
pulled out the burger, peeling off the wrapper before she slowly took
a bite and swallowed. Cold hamburgers were not as good as fresh ones;
she clung to that thought because it was inane and meaningless,
anything to keep herself away from the frozen pain that was trapped
inside her chest, hiding just under her rib cage. “What was your
name again?” she asked after a moment.
“Aion.”
“Aion,” she
repeated softly. “Am I going to be okay?”
“I promise that
you will be.”
Muriel leaned
forward and wrapped her arms around Aion's chest, resting her head
against him. The warmth from his body felt good, and reminded Muriel
that she was still alive. She could hear his heart beating, and it
eased tension out of her muscles that she hadn't realized was there.
Her cheeks were wet with the tears that she could no longer hold
back, but it seemed safe to cry while hidden in Aion's shirt. In
turn, Aion wrapped his arms around her and whispered, “I'm going to
correct my failure.”
Time stopped, and
the bond between them was reawakened. Muriel remember that she had
known Aion from somewhere, but the truth still eluded her. Her mind
felt blocked from her by a black wall that couldn't be penetrated,
keeping her locked in the moment without a past or a future. But her
heart still remembered, and she wanted to stay with him forever. She
closed her eyes and drifted off into a deep sleep.
After laying her
down in bed, and tucking the blanket around her, Aion stood looking
out the window, thinking.
His failure.
He
had allowed himself to be too trusting, and weak, and that had
ultimately
prevented him from protecting
Muriel like he had promised
he would; and she
had paid the price. He
wouldn't allow that to happen again.
But
he wasn't the only one who
failed on
that night. He retrieved
the picture from the waste bin, brought it over to the light, and
studied it for a moment, before it burst into flames and floated away
as ash. They had broken their
contract, and they would not escape the consequences.