“Blakely? Did it work? Are you still alive?” Reynolds blinked in the bright, empty lab. He heard a groan from somewhere in the room, but he couldn’t see anyone.
“Reynolds,” that same voice coughed, “when my head stops pounding, I am going to kill you.”
“Blakely!” he said, relieved. “I didn’t kill you!”
“If I’d thought you might,” she continued, “I wouldn’t have let you test your stupid machine. What the hell happened?”
“I think it worked,” he said, breathlessly. “I can’t see you at all.”
“What? It actually…” her voice trailed off.
“Blakely?”
“I’m invisible.” He could hardly hear her, her voice was so low.
“I know.”
There was a moment where neither said anything, trying to wrap their heads around what had just happened. After a year and a half of development, and another six months of testing, Reynolds’ crazy idea had actually worked.
“Simon,” she whispered, and he was startled that she used his first name. “It actually worked. Do you know what this means?”
“It means everything is about to change,” he replied, just as quietly.
“We’ll finally have an edge in this war,” Blakey continued his train of thought. “If we can slip soldiers into cities unseen, into the very center of their stronghold, we can do anything. We can win.”
“I know.”
He didn’t see it coming, but suddenly there were arms around him, holding him tight. He squeaked in alarm, before smelling the faintest hint of lemon, and realized that Blakely was hugging him. Just as suddenly, the arms withdrew.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he said. “You just surprised me.” A grin suddenly spread across his face. “I didn’t see you coming.”
“That’s right. You didn’t.” He could hear the satisfied smile in her voice.
“All right, let’s make sure we can reverse it. Don’t want you stuck like that forever.” He turned back to his control panel. “And once we know it works, and we can repeat it, we’ll tell the higher-ups.”
“Simon, wait.”
He looked toward her, but only saw the empty room. “What?”
“Can I… that is, I want to say…”
“What is it, Erin?”
He could hear her moving; it sounded like pacing.
“It just seems easier, like this,” she said, her voice odd.
“What is easier?”
“To talk to you. To… tell you things.”
He remained silent, suddenly wishing he could see her face. He could try to read her expressions, figure out what was going on in her head. She was an endlessly fascinating puzzle.
“It’s like, being clear makes things so clear, you know?” She laughed a little hysterically.
“Erin, just breathe. It might be a side effect of the machine. We should switch you back.”
“Wait!” she grabbed his arm. “I just need to tell you something. I… after all these months, working with you, I’ve started… that is to say… I think,” she took a deep breath. “Simon, I think I’m in love with you.”
He stared at the blank space before him, having to guess where her face was.
“You… what?”
“I think I’m in love with you,” she said in a rush, “and I know we aren’t supposed to, I know that there are bigger things going on right now, but I just… I had to say something.”
He raised his arms slowly, gently finding the curve of her back, the side of her face. He couldn’t see her, but he could feel her inches from him, solid and real, despite what his eyes told him.
“Erin,” he murmured, leaning close, “I love you, too.” He leaned forward, and their lips met in a soft kiss. It didn’t matter that he must look like a fool, kissing empty air. He had her in his arms, and he never wanted to let go.
Well, until he opened his eyes, and realized that he couldn’t see her soft, messy hair, or the spark in her kind eyes.
“Let’s get you turned back,” he said, softly, still holding her close. “I want to see you.”
“Okay,” she said, and he swore he could feel her blushing.
They knew that transparency would give them an edge in the battle for their lives, but who would have thought it could also help make those lives worth living?
© The Lightning Tower, 2020