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We are lovers. We can’t stop loving.
The Lover / L’amant, dir. Jean-Jacques Annaud (1992)
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Another Sunday Snippet for you. This one features a somewhat stressed out Newt in need of a break and a slightly confused Tina. Enjoy!
(Edit above made from this source.)
Hands (500 words)
She was sitting alone, a glass of champagne in hand and ignoring the crowds. A lone American among a flock of English wizards. The other guests had demanded his attention all evening, causing him to neglect her unwillingly. No longer though.
“Tina.” She looked up at him but kept silent. “Uhm… may I sit?” Newt asked. She took a sip from her glass and nodded.
“It’s eh… quite the gathering,” he murmured when her silence stretched on. “I honestly have no idea why they are all here.”
“Your book of course,” Tina answered quietly. “Unless there is something else to celebrate tonight?”
Seeing you again, Newt thought but shook his head.
It had been almost a year since he had left New York and his book had been published two months ago. Since then his life had turned into a whole new kind of crazy… promotion complete with book signings, readings, and countless interviews. For the last weeks, he had barely had time for himself, much less to visit Tina in New York as he had promised to do.
And now they sat next to each other on a sofa… so close and yet with a strange distance between them.
Did he dare move to bridge that gap between them? Take her hand resting so close?
No, he did not.
“How are you enjoying London?” Newt asked instead.
Tina shrugged. “I have yet to see it… I only arrived this afternoon.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to welcome you.”
“It’s okay, Newt. I know you’re a busy man these days.” Another long sip of champagne. “How is Leta?”
He frowned. Tina must have seen them talking earlier… and drawn the wrong conclusions. “She’s married. And quite bothersome.”
Tina shifted in reaction and suddenly their little fingers touched. Newt felt a spark rush up his arm, settling somewhere around his heart. It began beating furiously. Maybe… he should dare after all?
He hesitantly started to caress her finger with his own and Tina tensed at the gentle touch… but she did not pull away.
“Why did you invite me here, Newt?” she whispered uncertainly.
“Because… I wanted to see you again.”
She softened. Encouraged by this his caresses continued, now covering the back of her hand. He committed the sight, the feeling to memory.
“Maybe… tomorrow I could show you around London?”
“Do you have the time?” she asked doubtfully.
“I do.” Newt smiled and slowly covered her hand with his own now. He didn’t dare to look at her though, eyes still fixed on their touching hands instead as he continued. “Actually, I have a week away from all this and… if you don’t mind… I’d love to spend it with you.”
“Newt…” He looked up and saw a smile tucking at her lips. “Of course.”
The tension of the past months left him and his fingers slid between hers, clutching her hand tightly. “Thank you.”
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“We are lovers. We can’t stop loving.”
The Lover (1992) dir. Jean-Jacques Annaud
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