Tiger Eyes

Flowered hotel curtains swayed in the air from the unit below them, a physical expression of the cold air permeating the room. Billie had always hated that frosty feeling of a hotel room. The temperature, the sheer cleanliness of the air, seemed to choke him, sending him ever further into himself to escape it.

But how could he really escape it? He thought again of warmth and security, of talk and laughter swimming in the air, of the smells of smoke and alcohol. A world where he was comfortable, where he was safe, where he was somehow interesting. He quickly pushed the thoughts away, however. They were the thoughts which had brought him to this place. They were the thoughts which had caused his mistake, which had ruined his relationship, ruined his chances at love and happiness, goals to which he had become so close.

He attempted to replace the thoughts with another image. It was the image of a lost life. It was a drafty living room with a worn old sofa, a cracked television, and a broken coffee table. With a dull piano with dull notes and a worthless diamond ring. With an ex-fiancé who refused to let him see her cry as he walked out the door. The image of a broken love.

That conversation was worse than he could ever have imagined. Adrienne knew as soon as he stepped through the door into that tired living room. He hadn't even bothered to look presentable as he came to meet his love, or his past love, or whatever she was to him at that time. She'd seen his hair askew, noticed the mark on his neck, located the intense expression of guilt resting upon his face. Yet she did nothing. Her eyes betrayed no spark of sadness, her lips no hint of a frown. She simply stared, lost in some train of thought which must have assured her ever more of the situation. It must have helped her be strong, Billie thought. Adie was always so strong.

"Who was it?" was the first thing she said, hurt saturating her small voice. Billie already felt as if he'd been put in a torture chamber. How could he ever hurt someone this way?

"Mike," he'd answered weakly. God, Mike. The man with the shining blue tiger eyes, staring at him and through him and urging him with every second to stay, to speak, to smile and to feel and simply to live. The eyes which melted when they were alone to give Billie a glimpse into the quiet man's soul, leaving the pianist unable to hate him. Billie so wished he could hate him.

"I should have guessed," was her response. Billie thought he could feel his own heart sinking to the floor with that statement. Even looking back on it nearly brought cold tears to his emerald eyes. Had it really been so bad between them? Had they been so broken, so faded, that a circumstance of cheating was to be expected from him? "The way you talk about him... I should've known this would happen sooner or later... might as well now before we get into more trouble than we're worth."

Billie then glanced down to the floor, his bright green eyes seeming dull in the dim light of the drafty living room. He'd fixed his gaze upon a stain on the carpet resident from the day they'd moved in, a sole dark spot on the short expance of tan from an accidental spill of his drink. He remembered Adrienne telling him the home looked lived in now, that it was already their home. The one they would have forever.

Nothing could have brought the woman down then. She was so happy, so radiant, even as the work proved harder than they'd thought, and the sun beat down on their heads to burn their skin to a pale shade of pink. She had never been more beautiful than that day, the day she became sunburned and sore, the day her wet hair escaped its ponytail to manifest the heat of the summer, the day she smiled more brightly than the hot, unforgiving sun. Adrienne was beautiful.

"Are we really not worth trying anymore?" His voice was weak again, barely able to carry his half-hearted words across the deathly quiet room.

His eyes flicked back up to the woman then. It seemed a trickle of sadness was letting through the blank expression she was working to keep, a little hint in her almond eyes which betrayed to the man her feelings of anguish at this final realization. "Not anymore, Billie," her numbed voice said.

Billie nodded, his heart sinking lower and lower in his chest. His eyes traveled back down, unable to look at the concealed sorrow on her sweet face. What have I done? thought the man from the hotel room. I've lost the only girl I've ever loved. That's what I've done. "Okay," he finally consented, regret dripping from his weak voice.

"So that's it then." This was the moment Billie felt the tears push their way from his eyes, streaming rebelliously down his face. It sounded like something said at the end of a business meeting. Something void of emotion, a mutual agreement to... what? To stay out of each other's lives? Yes, that seemed what the sentence meant. Billie and Adrienne were no more. "You can get your things tomorrow. Just go."

"Adie, I don't have anywhere to go. I don't know anyone."

"You know Mike." They were silent for a moment, Adrienne allowing Billie to contemplate this suggestion. "If he's so special to you, Billie, if the Mahogany is so special to you... go to him. But you can't stay here anymore."

He nodded, unable to argue with her any longer. It was over. He had to leave. So Billie came near, closing the distance between them for the last time. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, closing his eyes and dipping his head to her shoulder, and she returned it, her eyes shutting tight to hold back the moisture which begged to escape them. This hug held no lingering feelings of love, of attraction, of whatever force had initially drawn these two together. It was the embrace of separating friends, two souls who had spent years connected at the heart finally coming apart to leave a void where the melding had taken place, cold and sore and lonely.

"I'm going to miss you," he said quietly, only pulling back after she did. She nodded, breathing deeply to stop the tears which begged exit from her doe eyes and wiping his away gently.

"Good luck," she replied. She allowed her eyes to fall shut as she felt his final kiss planted on her forehead and his final touch withdrawn.

"Goodbye."

He left the house, the home he should have had forever, the friend he had once been in love with, returning to his car and driving away to the cheapest hotel he knew as fast as he could. It was as if the faster he arrived at his new destination, the faster he would feel okay. It didn't happen, of course. He was left alone in the foreign room with the choking cold and the flowered curtains and the teasing thoughts of warm air and dull pianos to pull at his mind until tears yet again escaped his eyes, thoughts of secret ice blue eyes and of sweet, soft brown ones.

"Goodbye, darling," Adrienne whispered after the door had closed, tears finally escaping. "Goodbye."