Damien's Home

My friend challenged me to write a full-on romance in the space of a couple of hours, so after I'd finished, I thought I may as well post it on Protagonize. So beware, I wrote this under a time limit and have not editted. Oh yeah, and I've never really done romance before so...haha, enjoy.

Damien stepped off the train into a station that glowed with people. Friendly faces were everywhere, and loved ones were grasped in each other’s arms, reunited at last. The accents were genuine and exciting, and the voices warm and joyful.

Damien’s blue eyes gazed with longing, but he met the faces with a strong spirited smile as if they were his own family. And yet, it only took him a few strides to break the crowds and find himself alone on the cobble stones. He turned once to look back at the train, glistening in the station behind the crowds of happy travelers. And then he repositioned the strap on his guitar case and turned to face another adventure.

It was a new city full of people, full of possibilities, and full of opportunity, not only for his music but for his soul. He had been traveling alone for three months and already his heart was stronger, and yet more pained, his mind quicker, and yet more distracted. He still was not sure why he had left his home town. He had told himself it was a musical journey—to learn from other cultures, to find that one true note.

But the moment he had met that first woman in Paris, he had realized that he had left for another reason. And leaving Sophia behind in Paris, that beautiful woman of grace and talent, that beautiful city of love and art, it had shown him his real purpose in a way that he could not deny.

He began to look for Sophia in every city. He began to see her in the window of passing trains. He began to imagine her knocking on his hotel door. But he knew she was gone. And he knew his journey would last his entire life until he found someone to replace her.

By mid afternoon, Damien had found a beautiful bridge over a canal, and he sat strumming and picking as the tourists passed in a flurry of color and light, smiles and voices. Lyrics began to come to him, and he picked words from conversations, from the texture of the walls, from the cool waters that flowed beneath him.

He was soon singing a new song that could only ever be accompanied by the beauty that surrounded him. And he knew with all his heart that the song would last him his life, and with it, this memory.

He met a few beautiful people during the day, a few came to sit with him and play their own instruments, and an old man came and told him a story for half an hour. But by the time the sun was low over the colorful architecture, he began to feel out of place. He had nowhere to go. He had no one to meet. The city was alive, the streets busy, the air warm, but he did not belong.

Damien rose tiredly to his feet and faced the problem like he did every time he tried to lose himself. He pulled himself back to reality and thought carefully about where he would stay the night. And then, as he was looking to the heavens, wishing life would lend him a wave to surf, his eyes settled upon the horizon.

He felt a chill of excitement get under his skin, and he felt his lips twitch with a smile. On the hilltop, perched among the rocks, was a tower covered in ivy. He could spot the treetops of a park at its base, and the crumbling remains of an old wall at the edge of the cliff. He watched as the sun lowered and the tower turned to flame, and then he shouldered his guitar and aimed his feet in the right direction.

The End

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