Hi Kittens,
Sorry this story hasn't been updated in months. I've been all sorts of busy and I gotta admit that I'm not in the same mindset as when I began this fic. I'll try to write out what I initially outlined and update as regularly as possible. Again, apologies for leaving you hanging.
Now on to the update.
Summary and Disclaimers in Part 1
Cliffhangy yet again. Sorry, but I just can't seem to get away from it.
Life in its simplest is merely a series of movements bringing on an array of consequences.
Tara stood in front of the bathroom mirror staring at her reflection. Inside, a bubble of mirth began to form even as tears blurred her vision.
Willow sat on the floor beside Tara’s bed staring intently at the door the blonde had exited, retracing the morning’s events.
I woke up in shock from hitting the floor. Tara didn’t even look at me. She totally avoided eye contact then cleared out of the room. What the hell did I do??? What if I said something in my sleep? Oh god.
Willow shifted from her position and lightly rubbed her back. It would surely bruise, but something else concerned her mind. Something sticky and wet is on my knee. She looked for the source on the floor and found nothing. Something about the smell drew her in for a closer whiff. It was aromatic.
Tara splashed water on her face. She straightened and once more watched for any changes in her demeanor. Water drops clung on her nose, chin and eyebrows. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. In fact, it could be just any other morning. She scooped more water and splashed one more time. Something was bound to be different.
Where is she? Willow began the dance of worry and confusion as her feet paced the length of the room. Damn it! Why can’t I keep my mouth shut even in my sleep? Did I miss a class in Kindergarten?? I mean, that’s where everyone learned everything, right?
Tara reached for a paper towel, dried her hand, reached for another and patted the wet spots on her face. Each infinitesimal movement was heralded by succinctly worded silent instructions. Dry your hands. Towel. Gotta get some. Reach for it. Yes, yes. Dry. Dry hands. Some small part of her knew she was channeling Rain Man.
Willow sat on the edge of the bed unable to let her muscles relax. She stared at her toes oddly fascinated at how small they looked. Why do I mess everything up every chance I get?
Tara baby-stepped the last few feet to her door. She scrunched her eyebrows wondering why she wasn’t agonized at all. What was all that drama in the bathroom then? Her mind drew a blank. Here she was, standing in front of her door, feeling so… centered. It was as if a part of her had the key to what was going on and it gave her strength to…to what exactly? Still, the answers eluded her conscious mind. Willow’s absence had robbed her of the ability to do anything but feel miserable. But now she was back. Perhaps Willow held the answers… to what? She shook her head. No. Willow is the question.