Dear Diary

by A.N.D.

Originally published in Heartsounds II


Vincent uncapped his fountain pen and contemplated the page before him. He did not have much time to write tonight, but this entry was too important to leave for later. After a moment he started to write.


December 15, 1992:

The helpers have brought me news of Above and of Lisa. She has finally returned to the stage and her dancing enchants the world as much as it did before her withdrawal after the court hearings. She is once again a success, and I am happy for her.

Yet, beneath the joy, I remember a tragic time this very day 18 years ago. We were in the Great Hall, surrounded by candles, and nothing in the world was as beautiful as Lisa dancing in the candlelight. But when I reached for her, my dream of happiness shattered, torn apart when my claws tore into her shoulder.

For years -- decades -- I packed my dreams away in a locked corner of my heart, vowing never again to make such a devastating mistake. But tonight...

Tonight was Winterfest and the Great Hall was alive with the love of our friends and helpers and gilded with the light of many flames. Once again, I stood in a circle of candles and dared to dream, holding out my arms to the most beautiful woman in the world. And tonight she...

A soft call interrupted his train of thought, and Vincent looked up from the page, distracted. "Just a moment, please. I'll be right with you."

And tonight she ran...

"Vincent!"

"Yes! I'm coming!"

And tonight she ran from...

A slender hand reached over Vincent's shoulder and took the pen from his fingers.

"Vincent, I have always admired your relationship with literature, but now is not the time!"

Vincent smiled at Catherine as she stood a few steps away, holding the pen and frowning. "I know. I would never keep you waiting long." He held out his arms to her and she ran willingly into them, with the same urgency as when she had run into his embrace after her sojourn in Connecticut, with the same joy as when she had run from Father's supporting arm that very evening.

She squirmed around to put the pen neatly on the page, then turned back to kiss the man who held her. "Write your journal later," she whispered into the ear beneath her lips. "I have other plans for your hands on our wedding night."-