Post by Deleted on Oct 12, 2014 17:27:32 GMT -8
2 Weeks Ago…
The letters were normally right on time and were sent weekly, but this one had taken nearly a month to get back to him. He didn’t think much of it. Could have gotten lost in the mail, right?
1 Week Ago…
“Hello, this is Marianne, please leave a message after the—“
He left at least two voicemails and then hung up on any subsequent calls. Her batteries probably dead—or maybe she was asleep. He couldn’t call until late after work anyway, so it wasn’t something terribly alarming that she didn’t pick up.
2 Days Ago…
“¿Mi Tesoro? Can you hear y see me? Is the Skype thing breakin’ up again? Mari…?”
She seemed to have a lot on her mind that day; that’s what he was thinking at least. It was likely something to do with her schooling or work. Or maybe it was some family issue she hadn’t told him of yet… he would find out later though. She’d tell him what was going on when she was ready, he was sure of it.
But message after message, letter after letter, and call after call—the more Antonio seemed to reach out to ‘his’ Marianne, the more distanced and distracted she seemed to be. Of course, the Spaniard would never think it had something to do with him—how could it? He’d been faithful and loving and he’d not wronged her. Hell, they’d not really even had a serious argument during their 2 years of being together. It couldn’t be something to do with them.
Toni ran his fingers through his dark brown hair with a sigh as he looked out the window of the train. Maybe he was just too invested in her. Could it be that she was pushing away because he was…well, he wouldn’t say strangling or suffocating her, but he did try and be with her whenever the chance was available (what teenage couple wouldn’t have tried to do the same?). It hadn’t always been like this, of course. Back when she was living in Spain and was closer, they would often sneak out to see one another, and once he had moved out of his parent’s house, there were a few occasions that Marianne stayed with him there for a few days.
A soft laugh escaped and his lips curled into a mild grin as he recalled a particularly amusing experience. On that occasion, he had gone to visit her house late one night. It was during a time that her guardians weren’t so fond of his visiting, so he ended having to sneak in and out of the house through a window on the second floor. That ended about as well as anyone would guess, and while they were able to see each other for the night, Antonio had ended up catching his pants on the trellis, ripping a hole in the seat of them, and had to dash off with his tomato-print boxers in full view.
Regardless, over the past few months, Marianne had seemed to be a bit more distant and the push-pull effect was becoming all the more prominent; he’d push for meeting with her, talking with her, and to some extent she’d pull away.
Shifting to pull his guitar case closer as other patrons boarded the train, he ran his fingers along the vinyl sides and furrowed his brows in thought. Maybe they should just give each other a bit of breathing room. He didn’t exactly HAVE to visit her all the time, really, but he really wanted to and enjoyed it. Another sigh escaped him as he pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at the messages. The one he had tried to send to her alerting her of his visit had failed to go through… again. Working quickly, he shifted his guitar a bit more and re-sent the text for a third time (third time is the charm after all!) before leaning back in his seat for the remainder of the trip.
Once he had arrived at the station in France, he made his way to one of the nearby florists and picked up a small bouquet to present to his amor. He would have brought some from home, but the last time he had tried to do that, the flowers ended up getting smooshed and wilted a bit – he had learned that it was best to pick them up locally when He finally got to France than suffer through the disappointment of sad-looking flowers. However, he had managed to talk the chef back home at the restaurant into making a small batch of buñuelos to give to Mari and had picked up a small block of honey and almond turrón from the store before he had left.
As usual, the trip to her house via taxi had him sitting on the edge of his seat, looking out the window with a grin and chatting idly with the cabby about nothing in particular (well, as much as he could since this certain fellow seemed to have no interest in the Spaniard’s ramblings). Regardless, the building excitement of getting to see Mari had his heart beating fast, and despite the inability to get in contact with her, he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. After paying his fare and giving a decent tip, Antonio made his way up to the door of her place with a skip in his step and rapped on the door several times. He bit back the urge to call in greeting, figuring that maybe it’d be better if his arrival was a surprise up to the last second (since, again the stupid message had not gone through…).
No one answered.
Undeterred, he lifted his hand and knocked again, this time speaking up. “Marianne? It’s Tonio!” He rocked back on his heels and grinned at the door, pressing his ear to it to see if he could hear anyone coming. Still nothing, but he continued standing there and waited for a return answer.
As dusk fell, he continued to wait.
Antonio had long since taken a seat on one of the steps and concentrated his efforts on pruning a few petals and leaves from the bouquet of carnations and roses he had bought near the station. It wasn’t until a pair of headlights cut through the growing darkness of twilight that he lifted his gaze and stood with the flowers and treats in hand. Again, a cheery smile cut across his face as he recognized the car and he stepped a bit off the steps to go and greet Marianne as she approached. Had it not been for the fact he would have crushed both the flowers and the treats he had in his arms, he would have already moved to wrap her up in a hug. For now, he would simply grin from ear to ear and attempt to peck a kiss to her cheek in greeting as he presented the flowers. "I was beginning to wonder if you had been kidnapped or something, mi amorcito~" He let out a small chuckle. He was more than happy to see her, but unfortunately, was oblivious to the fact she looked more stressed than usual.
The letters were normally right on time and were sent weekly, but this one had taken nearly a month to get back to him. He didn’t think much of it. Could have gotten lost in the mail, right?
1 Week Ago…
“Hello, this is Marianne, please leave a message after the—“
He left at least two voicemails and then hung up on any subsequent calls. Her batteries probably dead—or maybe she was asleep. He couldn’t call until late after work anyway, so it wasn’t something terribly alarming that she didn’t pick up.
2 Days Ago…
“¿Mi Tesoro? Can you hear y see me? Is the Skype thing breakin’ up again? Mari…?”
She seemed to have a lot on her mind that day; that’s what he was thinking at least. It was likely something to do with her schooling or work. Or maybe it was some family issue she hadn’t told him of yet… he would find out later though. She’d tell him what was going on when she was ready, he was sure of it.
But message after message, letter after letter, and call after call—the more Antonio seemed to reach out to ‘his’ Marianne, the more distanced and distracted she seemed to be. Of course, the Spaniard would never think it had something to do with him—how could it? He’d been faithful and loving and he’d not wronged her. Hell, they’d not really even had a serious argument during their 2 years of being together. It couldn’t be something to do with them.
Toni ran his fingers through his dark brown hair with a sigh as he looked out the window of the train. Maybe he was just too invested in her. Could it be that she was pushing away because he was…well, he wouldn’t say strangling or suffocating her, but he did try and be with her whenever the chance was available (what teenage couple wouldn’t have tried to do the same?). It hadn’t always been like this, of course. Back when she was living in Spain and was closer, they would often sneak out to see one another, and once he had moved out of his parent’s house, there were a few occasions that Marianne stayed with him there for a few days.
A soft laugh escaped and his lips curled into a mild grin as he recalled a particularly amusing experience. On that occasion, he had gone to visit her house late one night. It was during a time that her guardians weren’t so fond of his visiting, so he ended having to sneak in and out of the house through a window on the second floor. That ended about as well as anyone would guess, and while they were able to see each other for the night, Antonio had ended up catching his pants on the trellis, ripping a hole in the seat of them, and had to dash off with his tomato-print boxers in full view.
Regardless, over the past few months, Marianne had seemed to be a bit more distant and the push-pull effect was becoming all the more prominent; he’d push for meeting with her, talking with her, and to some extent she’d pull away.
Shifting to pull his guitar case closer as other patrons boarded the train, he ran his fingers along the vinyl sides and furrowed his brows in thought. Maybe they should just give each other a bit of breathing room. He didn’t exactly HAVE to visit her all the time, really, but he really wanted to and enjoyed it. Another sigh escaped him as he pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at the messages. The one he had tried to send to her alerting her of his visit had failed to go through… again. Working quickly, he shifted his guitar a bit more and re-sent the text for a third time (third time is the charm after all!) before leaning back in his seat for the remainder of the trip.
Once he had arrived at the station in France, he made his way to one of the nearby florists and picked up a small bouquet to present to his amor. He would have brought some from home, but the last time he had tried to do that, the flowers ended up getting smooshed and wilted a bit – he had learned that it was best to pick them up locally when He finally got to France than suffer through the disappointment of sad-looking flowers. However, he had managed to talk the chef back home at the restaurant into making a small batch of buñuelos to give to Mari and had picked up a small block of honey and almond turrón from the store before he had left.
As usual, the trip to her house via taxi had him sitting on the edge of his seat, looking out the window with a grin and chatting idly with the cabby about nothing in particular (well, as much as he could since this certain fellow seemed to have no interest in the Spaniard’s ramblings). Regardless, the building excitement of getting to see Mari had his heart beating fast, and despite the inability to get in contact with her, he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. After paying his fare and giving a decent tip, Antonio made his way up to the door of her place with a skip in his step and rapped on the door several times. He bit back the urge to call in greeting, figuring that maybe it’d be better if his arrival was a surprise up to the last second (since, again the stupid message had not gone through…).
No one answered.
Undeterred, he lifted his hand and knocked again, this time speaking up. “Marianne? It’s Tonio!” He rocked back on his heels and grinned at the door, pressing his ear to it to see if he could hear anyone coming. Still nothing, but he continued standing there and waited for a return answer.
As dusk fell, he continued to wait.
…and wait…
…and wait…
Antonio had long since taken a seat on one of the steps and concentrated his efforts on pruning a few petals and leaves from the bouquet of carnations and roses he had bought near the station. It wasn’t until a pair of headlights cut through the growing darkness of twilight that he lifted his gaze and stood with the flowers and treats in hand. Again, a cheery smile cut across his face as he recognized the car and he stepped a bit off the steps to go and greet Marianne as she approached. Had it not been for the fact he would have crushed both the flowers and the treats he had in his arms, he would have already moved to wrap her up in a hug. For now, he would simply grin from ear to ear and attempt to peck a kiss to her cheek in greeting as he presented the flowers. "I was beginning to wonder if you had been kidnapped or something, mi amorcito~" He let out a small chuckle. He was more than happy to see her, but unfortunately, was oblivious to the fact she looked more stressed than usual.
