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Fiction » Romance » Not Quite a Love Story II: Believing is Faith font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: Capella Morningside
Fiction Rated: M - English - Romance/General - Reviews: 1 - Published: 01-24-05 - Updated: 01-31-05 - id:1815764

An Eternity Knot. No beginning, no end, a sacred symbol of my religion. I give a thankful glance to the train as it pulls just out of my sight, and tie the pendant around my neck.

I can honestly say it was the nicest thing anyone outside of my family has ever done for me. But this is the kind of thing friends do, or so I have heard and read about. Having never had a friend before, I cannot be sure.

My level of admiration for Jean-Jacques is unfathomable. The kindest man I know, he has always looked out for me, been there to talk to me when I needed it and always found ways to make me smile. Many a time I caught him reading poetry, Shakespearian sonnets and some of Lord Byron's works being his favorites. Typical of a hopeless romantic like him. One day, I have a feeling he will make someone very happy.

The next few weeks without him are looking bleak, but in my mind, I am counting each day until his visit. Climbing onto my bicycle and riding towards home, I prepare to temporarily go back to the way things always were-- lonely.


I’ve been working here for four years now.

Things have changed a lot. The house my parents were having built for me was completed long before I made it to Lorient, and I send them long letters of my gratitude. It was my dream house; near a coastal cliffside that looked out to the sea, a good distance from town but not so far that it was too tiring a trip to make on my bicycle.

I graduated from school, of course, and Jean-Jacques and Josaine both went out of their way to be there for me, and for the other person that had made it all the way through until that day, Eugénie Charpentier. I had gotten to know all three of them very well and they were the best friends I had.

The night after graduation of course, there were several parties all around the areas where students prominently lived, but I naturally avoided these. I went straight to my apartment intending to spend the night alone, but that idea was pushed aside when Jean-Jacques came by, concerned I was not at the festivities with Josaine and Eugénie. I made the pathetic excuse that I was too tired but I bid him to stay, for his company was quite welcome that night. We sat on my couch and discussed books, films, religion, philosophy, everything. The hour grew late, and I started to feel tired. Soon enough, according to his later account, I fell asleep and he courteously carried me to my bed and made a silent exit.

And now, four years older and wiser, I can look back and I know what was wrong with me all that time. Why I felt so comfortable talking to him, why I never suspected him of any ill intentions, why it felt so good when he smiled at me. I liked him. At least, I did then.

I have no idea how I feel now.

Like I said, so many things have changed in my life. I wish I knew what I felt about him, so I could tell him, truthfully and wholly. That would take care of so many of my current problems. I have... well, I have... a...

I have a roommate now. A foreigner to be exact, who saved me from getting beaten up by some muggers one night during one of my beach strolls. The poor dear had nowhere to go! As reward for what he did, I took him in. The unfortunate soul needed a home anyway, for he had none. He soon found work and I allowed him to stay, for he is quiet, kind, mellow and generally nice to be around.

Unless of course, Jean-Jacques is in the same area.

I don’t know quite what set them off. I am sure it was their first encounter when my roommate came to pick me up from the clinic for lunch one day, and Jean-Jacques was in the lobby area and they started talking when I went into the back room. I came back to find my boss, ranting in anger, hanging by the back of his lab coat on the nearby coat hanger with the beginnings of a well-struck black eye. (Thank goodness there were no customers in the lobby to witness the violence.) Since I could not, I called Josaine to help him down while I talked to my roommate who sat nearby to figure out what had happened. For you see, he is quite the big Frisian fellow, a former guard, and I have made a point of it to teach him tolerance instead of violence, the way of the Buddha.

According to my boss’ speech when he was at last taken down from the rack on the wall, and the account of my roommate, their talk had turned from idle chat to an argument when Jean-Jacques had commented on the foreign accent of my friend as well as his poor French. The exact words of the exchange were extremely varied depending on who I asked, and it was never quite decided who really ‘started’ the whole matter, but I do know this-- from that day forward, Jean-Jacques and my roommate had made mortal enemies of one another.

It now has become a rather comical task of mine to keep them apart whenever possible. And as humorous as my task may be at times, the situations they get themselves into sometimes with their arguing are even funnier, though I hold my laughter back. I once caught my roommate, at home, using the entire tube of toothpaste because Jean-Jacques had kissed him simply for the purpose of making him angry.

But most of the time I am not lighthearted when they go on and on like that, fighting for no real reason, but since they both listen to me well enough I am usually able to break them up. And if I cannot, Josaine always can.


His voice was cold. “You were there for how long?”

“All night,” I humbly replied. “I slept over.”

“I don’t know why you encourage him like that.” My roommate crossed his arms, staring out at the sea.

“Encourage?”

“You know he just wants to get in your pants, Alden.” He snorted.

“That’s not true!” I defended. “He’s not like that. He’s my boss, and we’re friends...”

“Oh please. It’s pretty obvious what he wants.”

“If he wanted something like that, I think he’d try something...”

Is that true? I wondered.

“And you’d say...?” the tall blonde waited for me to finish.

Non.

“I hope.” He finished spitefully, heading back towards the house.

I breathed a sigh, inhaling the salty air and muttered, “I don’t see why it’s your business anyway...”

My heart skipped a beat as his voice rang out from behind me. He hadn’t gone in just yet. “What was that?”

“Nothing.”

The Frisian grumbled for a moment. “You know how I feel about him.”

Another sigh from me. “I know.”


“I don’t know why you let him stay there.”

Another day, another point of view.

“He had nowhere else to go, Jean-Jacques. You know that.” I tried to break the conversation by looking exceptionally busy with scrubbing out an animal carrier that some poor terrier had been in and gotten a bit too nervous.

“Well,” came the reply from the other side of the room, among a shuffling of paperwork, “He has a job now, right? He can get his own place.”

“I... like the company.”

“If you want company you could live with me,” he said, and though I couldn’t see him, I knew he was grinning.

I didn’t reply.

“I’m just kidding.”

Are you?

Oui. I know.”


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