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I look at every single person that walks by, their blurring figures only a blip in my sight. My eyes can't connect with one person. One glance, and I know it's not her. Then my eyes move on to the next person, and the next person.
I feel my shirt sticking to my back, my nervous sweat making me feel damp, my blood boiling beneath my skin.
I was getting ready for work, just out of the shower and getting dressed, when the phone rang. It could have been anyone. The station, my family, my asshole friends.
The very last person on the list I thought would be calling me is Luna.
Luna.
It's been so long. Years since I've heard her voice. Just my uttering her name made her break down. I couldn't take it. I couldn't take her sadness, the agony ripping through the phone. I wish I could have reached through and taken it from her. Lifted the sadness from her soul and pulled it through the phone. She sounded exactly the same. Her soft lilt, feminine and so melodic that I nearly fell to my knees.
Nothing could have prepared me for her call. I have no idea what she's been through. I don't know where she's been, or who she's been with. I don't know anything about her, honestly. But at the end of the day, I do. I know every single inch of her. I know her depth, what makes her tick. I know her inside and out.
I swallow down my groan as I look around, worry hitting me at the idea of her never making it on the plane. Fear that she changed her mind. I'll stand in this airport all day if I have to, waiting for that moment where I get to see her again.
I glance out the floor-to-ceiling windows, seeing the Delta plane descending from the west. I know, without a doubt, that's her plane. I can feel her getting closer. My heart starts to calm, like it's finally able to rest after all these years. My hearing clears, and the voices grow louder around me.
It's been a year since I got out of treatment. One year since I started working as a firefighter. Living in New York has been different. Not bad, but it's been missing one thing.
Luna.
This was our dream. Our dream to move to New York together. It's felt wrong being here without her.
A part of me is worried that this is only temporary for her. That she'll come, say hello, and leave again. But the other part of me knows that won't happen. That the moment she steps into my arms, I'll never let her go. Never again. It was foolish of me to walk away in the first place. To experience life without her is the same as not existing. I need her to live. She is my sustenance, the bits and pieces that make me, me. If it weren't for her, who would I be?
It took her whispers of saying she wanted to come home for everything to change. Just her pleading made me drop everything. I called my boss at work and told him I had a family emergency. He's easygoing, so he didn't mind me needing the time off.
I don't anticipate me being there tomorrow, either. I didn't tell him that, but once I get Luna back, I don't think I'll be able to be away from her. There's so much to talk about. So much to catch up on. I need her near me, as near to me as she can possibly be. I'll never get enough of her, and being away from her for so long, I don't anticipate that need being satiated any time soon.
Another flood of people start walking this way. I take a deep breath, blowing it out between my lips as I wait.
She's coming.
My skin starts to hum, and I know she's getting closer. It feels like electricity, like our souls are reconnecting. My insides pull, and I want to walk forward, but I keep my feet planted where they are. Just waiting. Everyone walks around me, the flood of people splitting on either side of me as they pass by. My fingers go up to my hair and pull, feeling uneasy. On edge, like I'm fraying. I can barely think. Can barely stand still.
Each step she takes toward me, my body starts to hum louder, until I can barely take another breath.
Then she appears.
I can see her gray eyes shining from across the room as she looks around, a plain pair of shorts tight around her thighs, making her legs look a mile long. A small backpack sits on her back, her fingers playing with the straps as she looks from left to right.
Her hair, just as long as it's always been, is draped in long, dark waves down her back.
She looks the same, but there's a weight of sorrow surrounding her, a sadness that I can feel from here. It tears my insides apart, watching the sadness drip from her. Luna isn't a sad girl; she never has been.
So, what happened to her?
I take a step forward, just as her eyes lock with mine. They widen, and she stops in her step. Her plain sandals slapping against her feet pause, her toes pressing into the ground just like the ballerina she's always been.
Her face crumples as she looks me over, pure sadness covering her features and darkening her eyes. I take another step, and that gets her moving. She walks toward me, slowly and carefully. I walk too, and we end up in the middle of the room, only steps from each other. Tears stream down her face, and my own eyes burn with emotion.
"Roman," she whispers. But even with all the noises around me, her voice rings straight into my soul. It ricochets around the cage of my chest, burning straight into my heart.
"Luna."
She drops her bag onto the ground, running the last few steps. My arms swing out, catching her around the waist and pulling her toward me.
Her body molds to mine, each curve of her sinking into every inch of me. She smells like the ocean, salty with a hint of Luna. I'll never forget how she smells. Girly, like she spends her days in the sand, outside, with the wind blowing in her hair. My hand goes up to the base of her skull, pressing her against my shoulder, her body trembling against mine.
