Alain-part one:
Alain's Story
...Alain pressed His face to the window and stared out into the night. He could see snowflakes dancing as they fluttered and fell softly to the ground. The streetlight gave everything an eerie glow as His dark ice blue eyes carefully looked at His surroundings; at least as much as He could survey from this window.
Another city, another country; Alain had lost track of how many places He had been in the past month. Always searching, always hoping upon hope that He would find what His heart, and soul demanded so ferociously. He did not dare to mention to His friends what He was feeling. It was like an addiction, but to something He had not ever had, but knew that He would. He just had to find her.
Alain was in Eastern Canada, a French speaking city, which made His search all the more difficult. He only knew a few words in the language. He also knew He would go to the ends of the earth, for her.
As He watched the snowflakes He allowed His mind to wander and rest on what He searched for so relentlessly. She had come to Him in a dream; a dream so unlike any other dream He had ever had. It was so real. He remembered everything about her. The way she felt, the way she smelled, the tinkle of delicate slave bells around her slim ankles. Then she spoke and it was at that precise minute that she had stolen His mind, His heart, His very soul, forever. Her voice was ethereal and light, musical and seductive, like smooth cream slipping past His lips, and then dancing upon His tongue before flowing down His throat. He wanted her. He needed her. He had to have her.
No, He dare not speak of her to His friends, none would understand, even the closest of His friends did not really know Him very well. Alain only allowed so much of who He really was to be known. He had secrets, secrets He carried in His mind and heart for so long. Finally, He thought, I must be getting close. I can almost feel her.
Alain-part two:
The Dream
...Alain pressed one fingertip to the window and slowly moved it around creating odd designs on the pane from the moisture collected there. Almost as quickly as He drew them they disappeared, moisture collecting into drops and sliding down lazily in various paths until they reached the sill and puddle there.
He wanted to sleep, God how He wished He could sleep. For sleep would bring her to Him in His dreams, it always did and each time He would search for a clue to her identity, to her location, for anything that would bring her closer to Him.
Alain shook His head in an ironic laugh. His background was French, and here He was in a French speaking city but could barely navigate through it. He silently cursed His parents for insisting He learn English and use that only in their home. He never knew why they were so intent on Him learning and speaking English but not the French that He knew they both spoke fluently. Just another mystery of who He was and who His parents really were. No time to pursue answers to that right now. He had to find her.
His last dream of her was magical; there was no other word to describe it. He was on a beach somewhere, with no idea of His location, just walking and enjoying the warm sand beneath His feet, the heat of the sun's rays upon His body and the scent of the ocean, salty and filled with mystery.
There was a cottage there, surrounded by lush foliage, high enough to look over the ocean, to see the beauty of it all, day and night. The stars and the moon shone like dancing diamonds on the light swells of the moving water. All of it so ethereal, yet so real in His mind. The cottage had very tall windows which overlooked the ocean, and each was wide open, long gauzy curtains gently fluttered in the breezes, the scents of the exotic blooms wafting into the room ready to entice all there. He was standing inside now, looking out over the water just as the sun was setting. The sky was ablaze with a myriad of colour so splendid that He could not ever imagine something could be this beautiful. All the oranges, pinks, blues, greens and grays spread out like delicate fingers caressing a lover.
Alain breathed in the scent of the blossoms surrounding Him; they filled crystal bowls and were placed all over the room so that day and night He could always see and smell their scent, it was like their gift to Him.
Alain turned as He heard her silky seductive voice whisper out, "Alain? Alain? What are You doing my Love?"
He turned sharply and looked towards another room, and there she was. It was at this moment that a noise woke Alain up and He cursed. Now He could not fall back to sleep and stood by His window looking out as the city was treated to a light covering of pristine flakes of snow. He closed His eyes and tried to remember everything, every scent, every sound, searching for a clue. He knew that He was closer now, He just had to be.
Alain-part three:
Veronique
...Alain stood at the window barely noticing the rain outside; His mind was full of her. He could still see her, her image was burned into His mind. She had very light blonde hair, so pale it was almost white, and it hung down past her waist in deep waves, with tendrils framing her sweet face. Her big bright blue eyes were a perfect shade of azure blue framed with ebony lashes. Her voice was so melodic, so seductive, and so innocent all at the same time. He had seen and heard her for mere seconds, yet the sight and scent of her filled His mind, His soul and His heart. He had to have her.
Each day and night brought Him more clues of who she was and where she was. Alain only had to piece them together; there must be an answer in His dreams of how to find her, to learn her name. He let His mind wander a bit, guessing names, trying to think what this angelic creature would be called.
Alain looked out into the night, looking at the neon signs strung out everywhere proclaiming that their product must be bought in order to bring harmony to all. Bright greens, pinks, oranges and blues, all flashing and twinkling as if in a contest with the stars.
Alain shook His head and turned and walked back towards the bed, then fell into it and prayed He would fall asleep and dream of her. He laid there for what seemed like hours, in-between the layers of awake and asleep, as if in a daze. Her image swirled around constantly in His mind; His eyes could see nothing else. He had to find her!
Slowly and without noticing, Alain's body finally succumbed to sleep. In a swirl of colours, sounds and scents He focused and was back at the cottage, she was still there, looking at Him strangely.
