When Did I Know You

The crash of thunder woke her from her sleep. Moving the thin summer quilt, she looked to the cooled spot where Rin had laid the night before. On the nightstand was a plate with fresh grapes and berries with muffins and a thermos. On the covered plate was a note folded a top.

Good morning, lass. I didn't want you to worry but I went to grab a few more art supplies. I should be home shortly but I left a few nibbles for you. Please make yourself at home. With thee heart, Rin.

As she put the note down she moved the plastic off the plate and began munching on the coffee cake muffin. Looking at the note again, she folded it and put in a pocket of her purse. Lydia looked across the room to the mirror on his chest of drawers, and cringed. Her espresso ringlets were fluffy from the rain's humidity and she had a slight drool trail across her cheek. She was in one of his undershirts that dwarfed her short, curvaceous body but rode up to her thighs under the coverings.

Setting the muffin down and grabbing her phone, she made her way to the bathroom to try and put herself to rights. After taking care of a few things, she made her way back to the plate and walked back to the breakfast bar where she sat. Scrolling through different news articles her phone's assistant sent, she gave pause to the storm that was going on outside while sipping the hot coffee. Lydia kept munching until she realized the berries and muffins were gone and she had grapes left. She thought of his actions since they started spending more time together. Rin was patient and a very gentlemanly even though he had a roguish charm about him. More so than any guy she had shown interest in, he was not afraid to show her affection. He had treated Lydia like a precious stone and she wasn't upset about it.

As Lydia sat mulling over past relationships the flicker of the light caught her off guard. Suddenly, the room became dark and the hum of the refrigerator stopped. She noticed her phone's charging light had went off but she had plenty of battery to utilize. Walking over to the door that led to the side door of his home, Lydia made her way downstairs to look at the breaker box.

When she reached the bottom stair, she turned on the flashlight to look for obstacles. Seeing the electrical panel on a wall next to what looked like an utility room, Lydia looked at it for a moment. “When it's at half, none is on.” That was a saying her dad would say because most flipped breakers he would show her, would be flipped to half. Shifting the light to her non dominant hand she flipped it off and completely back the direction all the others faced. Giving pause, she heard the power humming as the lights came on. Switching the mobile flashlight off, she looked around. The basement was almost the length of the house and had three storage rooms. She noticed one had a light on and the door was ajar. Noticing as she walked, the slight chill had become more prominent while gathering the large shirt closer. From the vantage point, it didn't seem like anything significant, so she pushed the door open to look for the light switch.

Peeking into the room, Lydia's breath left her. There were various sketches and painting in different stages of work. Some were hung to dry and some were on a table awaiting additional details. Shifting into the room, the smell of the paint thinner and oil paint wrapped with a heady scent of him coiled in her senses. Lydia hated to intrude but she was ensnared by the sights. One image caught her eye almost like a lighthouse calling a ship to shore.

On the canvas stood a beautiful woman drenched in brilliant colors. She had skin like bronze and glowed like the sun kissed her beauty as a blessing. She had eyes the color of mocha embers that held wisdom and defiance. She was sitting on what looked like a cliff overlooking a deep valley with some vegetation and a small water source. Her hair was in elaborate twists and braids with colorful beads and stones artfully woven in. Her full lips were a painted in a deep ocher and there was a soft, serene smile teasing the plump bottom lip. Along her body were scars in an almost circular pattern along her chest and torso and her hips rounded out like the gentle mountains of the landscape.

Lydia looked at the picture and noticed that she remembered this image. She had been looking at the water supply and talking to a man. His face she couldn't see but she remembered it. She walked closer to the table where there was a partially finished sketch of a woman that had hair the color of ink and soot. Her lips looked like soft rose petals kissed with the morning dew. She was tending what looked like a bulk of cloth in a small stream. She had the sleeves of her top bunched and tied up to stay out her way.

Her head began to throb as she remembered the feel of the silk, heavy with water slipping through her tiny fingers. She recalled gathering the plants to create the dye and the time she blew the fire used to seep the plants. Looking at the images, confusion settled in. Why was she remembering things she hadn't done? Or had she...? These were two different people, right? Turning to go back around the table, she eased along its edge. She looked at the image of a man sleep against a large tree. He had a swath of cloth folded behind his head and a satchel strewn across his body. His face was relaxed and there were a few apples scattered around the base of his resting place. She pulled her eyes from the image as a wave of nausea crashed over her. Feeling a chair's back, she quickly sat down and put her head in her lap waiting for the sensation to pass and her mind to clear.

“Why am I seeing these people? Why do I remember these events? They can't be related! I can't connect these eras! No way! When he gets back we gotta talk. I need to know why he has these?” Sitting there getting her bearings, she heard foot steps and decided now was perfect to get answers.

Thorin came in with a few bags from his errands. He hadn't anticipated torrential downpours like what was happening outside nor the people commuting that forgot how to drive. Sitting his purchases down, he removed his shoes and started making his way to the his spare room. Grabbing an extra towel from the linen cabinet, he began to change from the wet clothes. Instead of fully redressing, he put on a soft pair of heather gray joggers and draped the towel around his shoulders.

Peeking in his room to check on Lydia, he was surprised to not find her in the bed where he left her. Looking around, he took note that the plate of food he had left for her had vanished too. Yet, in the floor was her knapsack she carried in the night before. Walking back toward his mud room where he left the paints, he noticed a plate that was empty and an unfamiliar phone charger plugged in. Noticing that his guest was nowhere to be found. Not in the living room watching tv. Not in the bathrooms as the doors were open and no water was running.

Out the corner of his eye, he noticed the one door he left closed unless he was there. The basement. Picking up his purchase, he quietly made his way to the basement and grabbed a hidden hunting knife from a small hidden space. Making his way downstairs, he noticed the art room's light was on. He didn't recall leaving it on but stranger things were possible. Quietly, Thorin looked in the room and felt his chest tighten in a swirl of emotions. Among the pictures was Lydia.

Her gorgeous fall of curls looked fuller than the night before and she had the shirt he had loaned her on. She was looking at the picture of Alexander sleep. He remembered that day fondly because Alex never seemed relaxed. Even when he was at rest, his face held the tightness of the world's concerns. Looking at her looking at the man in the picture was like looking at twins minus the identical features. Her eyes held the same strain that Alex's did. Yet, the tender way she ghosted her fingers along the sketch made him think of Bridgette.

He considered the ways this could go from the time he glimpsed her frame in the utility room. She could ask blank and meaningless questions that would delay his search. He pleaded that did not happen. Would she be shocked? Stunned? Confused? Or would she be hurt that his silence was damning.

Pushing the door open a bit more, Rin made his presence known. Lydia's hazelnut colored eyes locked on to Prussian blue as he waited for her. She stood and looked around then met his eyes. Her voice died on her tongue as his broad shoulders and strong chest robbed the words from her. His reddish brown curls were sodden with moisture from the storms outside and hung in loose waves to his muscular shoulders. His neck was strong and led to firm and well built pectorals. There was a soft brown sprinkling that dusted across the chest and created an arrow to well sculpted obliques and abs.

Lydia's eyes continued to the joggers that seemed to strain against the large and powerful thighs and she knew that the man was ready for her eyes to take in his face. When their eyes met again, his held a spark of hope and unguarded clarity that he had never displayed before. She was unsure what this conversation would bring and that is what filled her with trepidation. Watching as he walked in and sat the bag of paints down on the table she let out a slight whimper. Her head began to pound as the images that she saw earlier slammed into the fore front. Him. It was him! He was the man that was the commonality in each of those pictures. But.... Why?!

Not realizing that she had swayed, she looked up and he was at her side helping her sit back down. His face held worry for her but also a tinge of vulnerability. He was was couched beside her and watching her take in everything.

“You... Why do I know you?” she searched his eyes and he stood up. His body was taunt and his stance became guarded as he moved to sit on a smaller stool.

“I was your past and present.” Rin looked at the images around his work room. Every picture in the room was her. It was her soul put on canvas. Different periods and lands captured in his mind's eye and shared with the world at the galleries. He became an artist to try and share this with as many as he could. He became a nomad to try and broaden his search by modern means all to end his suffering.

Thorin stood and walked to the far right of the room and pointed at a fair toned woman with linens and aprons covering her thin frame. She was showing two small children different herbs. Her hair was covered and she had a full smile as she pointed towards a plant with small red berries nestled in the vermilion foliage. He glanced back at the woman whose head was propped in her hands and sighed.

“What would you like to ask?” She considered his question. Muscles in his back flexed and released as he waited for her inquiry. Who are they? Why do I remember these people? How did I meet them...etc. Questions that she wasn't sure she wanted to know but in her heart, she knew she had to know. And yet, she almost didn't want to ask because somehow; she knew.

“Why are you involved with all of them? Why do I know you but I've never seen you before now and why now? Why do I feel like my brain isn't my brain? What does this mean? How is this...” Her rapid fire question were halted by firm but soft lips. A scratchy bit of fuzz from his stubble brushed her chin as she was engulfed in the warm, musk of his skin. He smelt of sandalwood and something deeper that lulled her and clouded her train of though. Rin wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her closer. Losing themselves in the heat of the kiss was easy. She felt a ringing in her spine like a metallic wave; gradually radiating out through her limbs like a ripple in a shallow puddle.

He felt a deep groan well in his chest at the feel of her bust, full and heavy, pressed against him. The swell of her bottom cradled his arm as he held her like she would slip away into the vapors. Her pouty lips massaged his and coaxed him into remembering how good it was. The plump tummy trapped him against her as his other hand cupped the back of her neck, stroking the tighter coils hidden there holding her head in place to explore her cavern. Feeling the need for air, they separated and fought to rein in their passion.

The dusty rose flush that stroked across the apples of her cheeks moved in and out softly as she tried to regain control of her breathing. Her eyes were low lidded as the warmth in her belly slowly reduced to a simmer like a rich broth.

He took in the way her curls framed her face and snaked out in tendrils to brush her neck and face. Her skin was the color of milk caramel and just as smooth. The warm, golden undertones of her seemed to glow under the artificial lighting hanging above. Even with the neckline of his shirt showing the rich dip of her neck as it connected to her shoulders, she was beautiful.

“Lydia...” Her name was a sigh across her ear as he put his head in her neck to nuzzle the silken skin. They stood embraced as he thought about her prior questions. Gently taking her hand, he led her back upstairs to the little seating room off from the kitchen.

The couch was a charcoal gray sectional that had a wide chaise lounge on one end. There was a small ebony finished table that sat in front with smooth notches carved into the legs and places for magazines underneath. On top, a coaster holder and two garnet colored candles sat high on the low pillars like guardians of the remotes. A large media cabinet sat across from the seating with the same tone and carving of the coffee table. The room finished out with a micro suede, over stuffed chair. It was blacker than tar and seemed to engulf the light as it entered the room. A fluffy, gray pillow with red and black tassels leaned unevenly to one side against the armrest tying the room together.

As Thorin sat down, he sat her on his lap side saddle so she could still see his face but allow him to not focus on her disbelief as he started his tale. And what a long, insane tale it would be...