Some Quiet Place

forever, those lovely blue eyes so piercing that they poke through my very soul like it’s nothing but paper. I swallow. “I—”
    He hauls me against him and crushes my lips with his.
    I respond instantly, even as his touch invokes goose bumps, raising the hair on my arms. His fingers travel down my spine as I tilt my head. A delicious shiver erupts from the touch. Not close enough, not close enough … I stand on my tiptoes, every part of me fusing to his hard body, and wrap my arms around his neck. A muted feeling of terror edges in, but nothing that would tear me away from him. Thirteen years. After an illusion that changed my face, changed my being, he found me. Thirteen years he’s loved me and waited for me.
    Distantly, I sense Joy standing behind us, watching. Her hand rests on my shoulder. But she’s not alone. There are more, touching me or just watching.
    “Take a picture, it lasts longer,” Fear growls. His lips move against mine as he speaks. Smiling, I open my mouth, deepening the kiss. We both forget our audience. The rest of the world fades away into beautiful hues of peach and black and white. It’s so hard to breathe; no, I can’t breathe at all when his tongue does that … but who needs air?
    “I never did say it before, did I?” I whisper. He presses his forehead to mine, breathing in the smell of me. I smile faintly. “I love you.”
    “You can say that as many times as you want,” he murmurs. Somehow his embrace tightens, and he doesn’t need words to express how much he missed me. We hold each other for so long that the other Emotions get bored and leave. Once we’re completely alone, Fear presses his lips to my ear. As he speaks, I can’t repress another delicious shiver. “You asked me once if I ever get tired of being who I am,” he reminds me. “And the answer is this: only when I have to leave you.”
    I smile, clutching his coat. My mouth is tucked in the curve between his neck and his shoulder. I could stay like this forever. I imagine us here decades from now, a stone statue entwined in each other. This brings thoughts of the future, and I finally break the blissful peace by asking softly, “How is this going to work?” Things are so different now.
    Fear pulls back a little, smoothing damp strands of hair away from my face. His thumbs brush the edges of my jaw. “Easy,” he answers. “I show up when you need me, and I show up especially when you don’t need me.” He grins, an impish light in his eyes. I kiss him again, loving the feel of his skin against mine. So we won’t be a normal couple. Since when have I ever been normal, anyway?
    Purpose is building up inside of me again, and suddenly I’m filled with the urge to tie up all the loose ends I left behind. To return Life to where it was lacking. “There’s something I have to do,” I say, pulling myself out of the circle of Fear’s arms. “Back in Edson. I’ll let you know when I’m done. Okay?”
    He kisses my nose. “Just don’t go looking for cliffs. I’ll know when you want me.”
    I can’t help smiling some more. My face almost hurts. “I’ll always want you.”
    With a tender light in his eyes, Fear vanishes.
    I pack the bare essentials, get in Elizabeth’s truck, and go.
    The hours fly by unnoticed. Late the next day, that sign I’ve been looking for comes into view: Welcome to Edson . The words are chipping, fading. Somehow, I’d expected it to be different, changed in the time I’ve been gone. But everything in this small town is comfortable, mindless of the rest of the world sprinting by. I pass Hal’s Hardware, the clinic, Fowler’s Grocery, and the school.
    There’s a face uppermost in my mind, the person I know I need to see the most. But there’s someone else I have to visit before I seek Joshua out. Within minutes, I pull into Morgan Richardson’s driveway.
    The front door is unlocked. I enter without hesitation, and pause a moment to study my surroundings. The place looks different in the daytime. I remember the ominous air the night of the party, Fear’s flight, Morgan’s single word: Run . Suppressing a shudder, I climb the steps.
    The sound of some reality TV show drifts down the hall, and I follow it to Morgan’s room. She’s sitting there, stuck in front of the television again.
    “Excuse me, what are you doing here?”
    Morgan’s babysitter has noticed me, but she doesn’t move from her spot by the window. There’s a cell phone pressed to her