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He dreams about her every night. Visions of dark hair and olive skin flood his mind. She’s always out of reach, watching him from afar with tears in her eyes. His dream evaporates before he can get near and comfort her.
He has been having these dreams since he was transferred to Seattle, specifically to the Hyperion Heights 42nd Precinct Police Station. He got this promotion thanks to his skill as a sketch artist; his work has helped identified many criminals and put them behind bars. However, it hasn’t helped him identify the woman ingrained in his mind. The woman he’s never met before but has become a big part of his existence; of his very own soul.
The first thing he does when he wakes up is trying to draw her. He now has a collection of dozens of her pencil sketch drawings scattered throughout his room; taped on his walls, laying on his drafting table. He keeps the best of them and throws out his failures. He has always been skilled with his fingers, but for some reason, his sketches don’t compare to the beauty that appears in his dreams. Black hair, brown eyes, lush lips that have him on the brink of insanity.
At least he’s not the only one going insane. There’s this cop at the precinct named Rogers who has put him on a case of a missing woman named Eloise. He sketches her for him, following his descriptions, but Rogers also seems to be frustrated with every outcome.
“We’re not making much progress, mate.” Rogers pats his shoulder with his good hand. He hasn’t asked, but it appears he lost his other limb in the line of duty. “How about we go grab a beer at Roni’s to clear out our minds?”
He has seen the pub on his way to the station, but hasn’t had the time to visit it yet. Drinks sound good after the hectic days he’s been having in this new place.
Roni’s a nice place, cozy. It’s the perfect pub to hang out with friends. As he walks in, he gets a warm feeling in his heart for some reason; a sensation of stolen kisses and picnics by a fireplace.
He follows Rogers as he approaches the bar, ordering two beers for them. There’s this woman behind it with her back on them, Rogers mentions to him that she’s the famous Roni. He thought of Roni as a bloke, but he’s pleasantly wrong as he appreciates her tight jeans and her short curly hair from behind.
“Hey, Roni, this is Archer, the sketch artist I’ve been talking about.” Rogers gives a quick introduction as Roni turns and places their beers in front of them.
It can’t be…
It's her.
The woman of his dreams coming to life. He’s suddenly trembling, the bottle of beer he was holding slipping from his hand and spilling its contents over the bar. His heart feels like it’s about to come out of his chest.
He misses the glint in Roni’s eyes as she sees him; her hand shaking a little as she cleans off the spilled beer from her bar.
“Archer, uh? Did the cat bite your tongue?”
He ignores the teasing, drinking her all in. Brown eyes, olive skin, lush lips. He feels his mouth go dry, at a loss for words.
“That was my same reaction when I saw her, mate,” Rogers intervenes. “Relax, you’ll get used to it.”
“Don’t lie, Rogers. I know I still got it,” she replies, placing a new bottle of beer before Archer.
“That you do.” He ignores their banter, trying to control the swirl of feelings that possess him. He takes a sip from his new beer and plucks up the courage to talk to her.
“Have… have we met before?”
Roni smirks, raising one of her perfectly arched eyebrows.
“I doubt you’ll ever forget meeting me.”
He laughs, snorting some of his beer through his nose , finally breaking up the tension that was going through his body.
“There he is. There’s that elusive smile!” Roni’s biting her bottom lip, smiling back at him. He feels elated when she winks at him with both eyes and says:
“Archer, welcome to Roni’s.”
--
The moment he enters the bar, her world shatters.
Her heart’s pounding, she tries to calm down by making herself busy, turning her back on him and arranging the liquor bottles on the shelves. She can feel Rogers and him approaching the bar, the former ordering two beers from her. Roni tries to control the shaking, takes several deep breaths, and turns to look at them. At him.
The blue of his eyes is the first thing she notices. She drowns in them; a sudden need to cry consumes her, but she controls it by distracting herself with his spilled beer over the counter. His reaction baffles her, he seems to be at a loss of word, same as her.
Her senses drink him all in. His sandy brown hair, his pine scent; even the tone of his voice when he finally speaks.
Everything’s the same as in her dreams.
She has dreamt about him every night. Visions of him lying in her arms; helpless, unmoving; evaporating before she can do something to save him from dying.
She wakes up from those nightmares confused and with tears in her eyes.
She also wonders if they’ve met before when he asks. She can finally breathe in relief after the response she caused in him with her teasing. He’s here, smiling back at her, the man of her dreams, alive and well.
They both stay at the bar after closing hours, talking and starting to know each other. Basking in the reality of their present. Ready for the new adventure of a second chance.