here without you
It was a gift too, being able to look at the flower that stood alone in a simple crystal vase on the table as morning sunshine filtered through the sheer muslin curtains.
To enjoy a warm, sweet cup of caf, which was difficult considering the kind of warmth and sweetness she desired most was gone from the galaxy.
...No. Wait.
Efret pushed against the velvety back cushions of the sofa with one elbow, making herself sit up straighter. She took one of her hands from the mug and wiped the tears forming on her waterline. Her peripheral vision got just a little less blurry.
Since the Netherworld rift had sutured a few days ago, the archeologist had been living in a state of functional freeze in her rented Theed apartment. It was as if her mind had gotten stuck in the last stage of a survival sequence—first she had fought, and then she had fled, and now she was frozen—but her body was still capable of taking care of its needs. And it did; feeding itself, drinking water, getting sleep; but thinking clearly wasn't possible.
Not until now.
Her sigh was ragged, heavy, and long like the cracking of icicles off the edge of a roof on the first warming day of spring. Trapped adrenaline thawed from her body part by part, starting with her mind and dripping along her anatomy. She sat forward further until she could set her mug on a coaster, then reached to grab the slender neck of the vase. When she walked into the kitchen, her legs felt lighter than they had since Elias had pushed her to safety. She plucked the long-stemmed flower out of the container before pouring the water into the brass sink basin.
The Picture of a Lady didn't drink water, at least not in this stage of its life. Instead, it preserved itself, somehow, off of love. One of the tomes that she had helped
Jonyna Si
digitize at the Cathar Jedi Temple had mentioned how it bonded with the individual who picked it, and would live as long as their love did.Which meant it was time for an experiment.
She slid the stem back into the vase and set it in direct sunlight on the window sill behind the sink. If the flower survived an hour or so in this heat, then Elias was still alive somewhere beyond the veil; if it shriveled, well, she liked dried flowers as much as fresh ones.
Stepping into the entryway, she reached into her hanging robe to retrieve her holopad communicator. She returned to the caf table and set it out on the glass top, then sat back down and reached out to make a call.
As it rung in softly changing shades of blue, she hoped that Val wouldn't be too busy to pick up.
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