literature

Ib: The Promised Reunion

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The people on the street were staring at her like she was strange. In her hand was not just a single cup of coffee but two. One was technically a double-shot vanilla frappe- his favourite. If they knew who she was, knew why she was waiting outside the massive building, they wouldn’t be shooting her judging glances. It wasn’t any of their business why she was here, her hands full and a single red rose tucked behind her ear, but they were still curious. She waved at the receptionist that stood at the desk through the door’s glass, smiling when he waved back. He knew why she was here.

Ib had never forgotten what had happened eight years before in the gallery behind her. She never forgot the fear that had gripped her for hours as they ran through a faux version of the gallery, led by a girl named Mary who wasn’t a girl but was really a painting who had come to life. Mary had tried to kill Ib, but worst of all, Mary had also tried to kill the one person who had rescued Ib and kept her safe. He was the one who had watched over her when they had been attacked by mannequins and woman who had erupted from paintings. When she had fainted, he’d carried her tiny body to the nearest safe room and had protected her, even letting her borrow his giant raggedy coat.

She looked at her phone and sighed. Garry was a bit late. He hadn’t been late the last couple of years and had always arrived at about five o’clock; it was almost six. She found herself standing on her tippie-toes, scanning the roads to look for his Prius. Garry was the type of person one might think was gay, until you really met him. He talked like a woman, drove a Prius, and liked double-shot vanilla frappes. Only, Garry had, had girlfriends before, so Ib was sure he was straight. She’d met one, but they didn’t get along, which meant Garry soon had problems with her and her jealousy of Ib.

Ib and Garry were very close friends. They had spent year after year talking and finding excuses to see each other. Garry had applied to the local college, but he hadn’t been accepted. Ib was teased by her loved ones about her “boyfriend,” much to her embarrassment. She and Garry were just close friends, but she had to admit that she sometimes felt like he was the only guy who would ever get her. The two of them were two peas in a pod, and Ib loved to listen to his voice. If anyone hurt Garry, they had her to deal with and vice versa. Garry had even taken her to her junior prom and to her homecoming, something she still had photographic evidence of. People had been so jealous of how they’d laughed as friends and had wondered why shy little Ib was smiling so brightly and dancing with a guy who had to be in his twenties. Those stuck-up girls had questioned her that following Monday, their eyes wide and envious. Garry had talked to a few of them politely at the dance and accidently had them in the palm of his hand, panting and ignoring star jocks.

When Ib thought of Garry, she felt like she could fly. When she heard his voice, nothing else mattered. When he had offered to stay for a week this time instead of just the day through Facebook, she had squealed like a little girl. Even if she and Garry were friends, a deep part of her wanted to be more. Her parents wouldn’t consider that due to the incredible age difference between them. Ib would roll her eyes and remember that phrase- Age is but a number.

She craned her neck once more in a desperate attempt to see his Prius. Where was he? Garry was never late for this meeting- this reunion. She glanced back at the receptionist, tilting her head in a way that asked a question. He just shrugged and shook his head. She blew out a sigh.

Garry hadn’t come early.

“Ib?” She whirled around to see tall perfection. His violet hair was a sloppy as ever, but it looked like he’d attempted to comb it. His blue eyes were twinkling and full of joy. He had the raggedy coat over one lanky arm and moved to drape it around her shoulders. She smiled and won a grin out of the only man who would ever make her feel alive.

“Garry!” She hugged him fiercely, having to stand on her tippie toes to look him in the eyes without looking up. He wrapped his arms around her. She moved carefully to avoid splashing coffee on him, but he just squeezed her hard enough to crush bones, loving the way her small body felt. She was chattering about how she’d been looking for him and was wondering where he had been, but, try as he did, nothing could distract him from just reeling over how much she’d filled out. He felt ashamed to realize he was looking at her chest, her curves, her moving lips.

He’d been afraid this would happen- had realized that it was beginning to at her homecoming dance. He hadn’t liked it when a guy had asked her to dance and had become strangely protective. No matter which girl he had looked at over the past months, none of them compared to her. Little Ib wasn’t little anymore, and Garry wanted her.

“Here’s your frappe. I thought I’d get you your favourite while I waited,” she declared, holding out the Styrofoam cup for him. Taking a sip but not breaking his gaze from her eyes, Garry wondered how long he’d left her waiting.

“Goodness.” He licked the caffeine from his lips and smiled at her. “It’s delicious, Ib, thank you.” She beamed adorably, making him smile as well. “Well, what would you like to do, honey?”

“They opened up a new part of the museum!” she announced, but Garry had already known. Every morning, before he even got dressed, he checked her local paper online to see what was new, what she might tell him. She hadn’t mentioned it- probably meant it to be a surprise- so that’s what he let it be.

“Really? Where did they put it?” He followed her in and smiled at the receptionist, Nicolas, who was smiling and shaking his head at the two of them.

“They built an addition onto the side of the museum and then added some paintings that they found at private art auctions. There’s one that might surprise you…” She trailed off as they entered the new wing and saw the main focus of their new found works.

A girl in a green dress smiled at him from between the frame. Just the sight of those evil little eyes made his blood boil, and he glanced at Ib to gauge her reaction, only to find her already looking at him. He forced himself to calm down, reminding himself that he had to cool and mature around her. No matter what memories of Mary came up, he had to look collected so that he didn’t scare Ib. Her red eyes were so trusting, but a tiny bit wary. He knew she was wondering if she’d been wrong to show him, but he was glad to see all the things he’d seen years ago that hadn’t been found finally in the gallery. Part of him just wished they’d found Mary before him and Ib had started to trust her down in the other gallery so that they hadn’t been so betrayed and unaware when the little demon had flipped.

Looking around, he noticed that they’d also found Red Eyes as well as several other works. Ib was walking with him as he looked at each painting’s actual name. They moved out of the new section after they gave their own opinions on each piece of uncovered work and said how they remembered it. Ib would mention how one piece was in a secluded room or he’d mention they had passed it on their way to do something. She had a good memory considering how old she’d been and how long ago it was.

“Garry?” She looked at him as they stood by that faithful rose sculpture. He looked down to realize he had subconsciously taken her hand. Instead of removing her hand, Garry watched as she tightened her fingers around his. Warmth engulfed his palm and spread like wildfire throughout his body, making his heart lurch almost painfully. Her little red eyes glued to his and held him like a siren’s call in a trance. A web wove itself all around them as she smiled, which made Garry’s lips weakly mimic hers.

“Hold still.” He bent his head and placed his lips on hers, feeling the shudder that ran through her body and his. She used the hand that he didn’t have to cradle the side of his face gently. He supped her lips, noting how she seemed to taste like coffee and cherries. Moving closer to her, he tilted his head and gently ran his free hand’s thumb along her little jaw.

The kiss could have lasted eternity but he pulled away, resting his forehead to hers. Her eyes had yet to open, but he still felt her fingers squeezing the life out of his hand. He pressed a feather light kiss to her nose and then back on her lips for a heartbeat. She didn’t fight when he embraced her and actually looked up at him with a smile.

“I’m so glad you feel the same way,” she whispered.

“You like me?” he asked incredulously.

She grinned impishly. “I don’t know. You tell me.” With that, she stood on her toes to kiss him.
This is a continuation of Promises and takes place years after they left the gallery. I thought I'd make the ending adorable.
© 2013 - 2024 ValentinesForever1
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furchild1204's avatar
I have but one thing to say:
:iconitsbeautifulplz: