[right][h2][color=999999]Lost in Translation[/color][/h2][@Tlazolteotl][@Stanifly][@Auragreedia][/right]

[color=8882be]Sirpa relaxed. [i]Oh, thank God.[/i] She danced with Wesley. She smiled. She breathed. She forgot the noise and the lights. 

But then, Wesley stopped.

Sirpa stilled and watched him with a look of concern. He seemed to be remembering something. She kept his hand in hers. [i]I'm here.[/i]

The music stopped. The lack of rhythm was a bit jarring. For a moment, the room felt cold.

Then, the scream.

Sirpa lost her grip on Wesley's hand as she, too, stumbled back from the sound. As the wave hit her, his feelings within her magnified. She caught herself on one knee and peered up at Wesley, blinking through tears. [i]I see you,[/i] she thought urgently. She knew speaking would be no use. She breathed in and out steadily as his hurt grew in her chest, fighting air for the same space in her lungs.

And then, suddenly, it lifted as her vision was flooded with light.

She saw the woman, and then another. She watched as the faces changed. She watched as Wesley spoke clearly for once and she watched as he left.

And then, in a blink, she was standing in the coffee shop again with Silver Blade and Morgan beside the armchair next to the fireplace. She stood still for a few seconds, not quite processing what just happened, and then slumped back into the armchair. The sound of a mug placed beside her pulled her back to reality (reality?). She reached for it and held it in her hands. It was warm and smelled of apple cinnamon. Sirpa took a sip. It was the perfect temperature and it brought her a sense of comfort that she could vaguely trace back to adolescence. She held her mug close to her chest and sat quietly, her gaze resting on a point in space a few feet in front of her. [b]"Well, looks like we did it,"[/b] she said finally.[/color]