Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from "Boy Meets World". I'm pretty sure they belong to Michael Jacobs or some big important guy at Disney. Either way, the characters Charles, Rob, and Brittany are mine.
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The thunder roared violently as countless New Yorkers scurried from the dark city streets into cabs, convenience stores, and 24-hour diners. It may have been 2 a.m. that rainy night, but the city was as busy as ever. New York City truly lived up to its image as "the city that never sleeps" that night. Anyone who was fortunate enough to be tucked into a safe home of their own recognized their good fortune and did not think twice about whether to stay in.
As a blinding flash of lightning illuminated the cozy studio apartment over looking New York University, the young occupant certainly had no other thought in mind. A young, thoughtful-looking goateed man of about 20, he sat solemnly near the apartment's sole window, immersed in the storm's reckless beauty. The rain was so wild, glittering in the moonlight against the backdrop of a velvety night sky. No matter how imposing, threatening or fear-invoking, the storm was a powerful force with an intensity beyond comprehension.
The young man couldn't help noticing how closely the storm parallelled his life in recent year. Before he moved to New York one year ago, Shawn Hunter had faced the death of his father, the realization that the woman who raised him was not his natural mother, and a painful separation from the only woman he'd ever loved.
Shawn shook his head in disbelief that in the year since her departure, he had made almost an entirely new life for himself. He was in a different city, attending a different school, and for the first time in his life, living on his own. Possibly even more surprising to Shawn, however, was the one aspect of his life that had not changed in the least. Despite the abundance of flashy, exciting women in the city, he continued to long only for the one that he kissed goodbye one year ago.
Admiring the lightning as it danced in the sky, Shawn wondered if Angela was watching a storm from her window in Paris. They both had the same eye for natural beauty, and he imagined her appreciating the passion of a stormy night. Europe really suited Angela, Shawn decided. As much as he looked forward to her phone calls, hearing her excitement over the nuances of European life made him happy that he'd supported her decision to spend the year there.
Their relationship had grown stronger since Angela's departure. Frequent phone calls and letters gave each the opportunity to share the goings-on in their life with the other, and the two continued to look to each other for comfort and support in the most trying times.
As the storm began to lose its momentum, Shawn undressed to get ready for bed, still thinking only of Angela. He finally understood that old cliche, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." These days, he was as in love with her as ever, but he could not deny that his heart ached with each moment that they could not be together.
Lying in bed alone, Shawn remembered the feel of her skin, the way she smelled, the way she could look into his eyes and the rest of the world would stop. While he treasured their telephone conversations and letter exchanges, nothing could compare to the feeling of electricity that filled the air when they were together. It wouldn't be long, he thought, before they would be lying in each other's arms once again.
Comforted by that knowledge, Shawn allowed the rain's gentle rhythms to guide him into sleep. The storm had faded, and only light showers accompanied him into his dreams.
Little did Shawn know, however, Angela was not admiring the simplicity of a European rainfall from her window. In fact, the Paris apartment that she had shared with her father all year was completely empty that night. Having learned about one month earlier that her father was being transferred to a military base in Florida, Angela knew that the time to resume her life with Shawn and her friends had finally come.
A true romantic at heart, Angela had envisioned the perfect reunion with Shawn time and time again. Although they had talked several times over the past month, Angela never revealed that she would be back in his life so soon.
While Shawn lie dreaming of her in his tiny apartment, Angela wiped the rain from her coat, as she climbed into a cab outside LaGuardia Airport just miles away. It was certainly no time for a petite young girl like Angela to be exploring the streets of New York City on her own, but she was determined to see Shawn Hunter before doing anything else that night.
"Where to?" the heavyset, unkempt, 50-ish cab driver asked her.
Angela dug frantically through her handbag for the napkin on which she had copied Shawn's address. She retrieved it and squinted to make out her writing in the darkness.
"603 East Beaumont," she finally replied, trying to contain her excitement about surprising Shawn.
The time spent in Europe had been good for Angela, and she looked radiant. A floral knee-length dress fell over her slender frame, and she kept warm in a Parisian suede coat. She wore her hair long and braided, and her skin glowed with a new vibrancy.
As the cab made its way through the dreary, darkened streets, Angela couldn't help but wonder if Shawn had changed at all since she'd last laid eyes upon him. He was truly beautiful, she thought to herself. She pictured him standing before her -- smooth, creamy pale skin offset by deep brown hair and piercing blue eyes.
Angela wondered what he would be doing on a night like this. Was he out someplace, sharing good times with their friends? Did he suddenly find inspiration for a poem in the midst of the storm? Was he curled up peacefully in bed, dreaming of the next time their eyes would meet?
Whatever he was doing, Angela prayed that he was out of the rain and in his apartment. She hated the idea of having to wake him so late at night, but nothing was going to keep her from seeing him right away.
Angela's train of thought was abruptly interrupted by the cab driver's attempt to make conversation.
"So, um, Miss," he began, letting out a gruff cough, "what brings you to the city?"
Angela thought for a moment before giving him an answer.
"Some very special people in my life live in this city," she said softly, but her joy could not be disguised. "I...I'm really excited about being with them again."
The cab driver chuckled. "That's good to hear, Ma'am, real good to hear. It's, uh, been awhile since you seen 'em?" he asked casually.
"Yeah, one year actually. I can't wait to start my life right here with the people I love," she said with a warm smile.
"Well, you won't have to wait long," the driver said as the cab slowed to a halt. "603 East Beaumont -- we're here."
Angela peered out the window at the large brick building towering above her. She grinned with nervous excitement as her heart began to race.
"Yeah, it looks like we are. Thank you, so much," she said as she payed the cab driver.
She gathered her bags and opened the door. Stepping out of the cab, Angela called out her wishes for a great night to the cabbie, and the car pulled away. Now alone at the bottom of Shawn's apartment building, Angela began to ascend the stairs hurriedly. Half afraid of the New York night and half anxious to reunite with Shawn, Angela had reached his third floor apartment in no time.
She matched the number on the door with the number she had written on the napkin. 14C. Finally ready to see the man she loved for the first time in what had felt like an eternity, Angela knocked lightly on the wooden door, still feeling guilty about waking him up.
Wrapped warmly under the covers in his king-sized bed, Shawn was awakened by the faint knocking from across the one-room apartment. He turned to look at the clock on his nightstand.
"3:16 a.m.," he whispered to himself. "This has got to be a dream."
Unperturbed by the reality that he had an unexpected guest at 3 a.m. on a rainy New York night, Shawn pulled on a grey t-shirt and slowly made his way to the door. Wiping the sleep out of his left eye, Shawn looked out the tiny hole in the door to uncover the identity of his visitor. The figure that stood on the other side of the door was by no means an infrequent visitor to his dreams.
Still in a dreamy daze, Shawn opened the door to see the love of his life standing before him, damp from the rain, but beautiful as ever.
"God if this is a dream don't ever let me wake up," he whispered, finally snapping out of his groggy state and into the reality that his dream had finally come true.
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The thunder roared violently as countless New Yorkers scurried from the dark city streets into cabs, convenience stores, and 24-hour diners. It may have been 2 a.m. that rainy night, but the city was as busy as ever. New York City truly lived up to its image as "the city that never sleeps" that night. Anyone who was fortunate enough to be tucked into a safe home of their own recognized their good fortune and did not think twice about whether to stay in.
As a blinding flash of lightning illuminated the cozy studio apartment over looking New York University, the young occupant certainly had no other thought in mind. A young, thoughtful-looking goateed man of about 20, he sat solemnly near the apartment's sole window, immersed in the storm's reckless beauty. The rain was so wild, glittering in the moonlight against the backdrop of a velvety night sky. No matter how imposing, threatening or fear-invoking, the storm was a powerful force with an intensity beyond comprehension.
The young man couldn't help noticing how closely the storm parallelled his life in recent year. Before he moved to New York one year ago, Shawn Hunter had faced the death of his father, the realization that the woman who raised him was not his natural mother, and a painful separation from the only woman he'd ever loved.
Shawn shook his head in disbelief that in the year since her departure, he had made almost an entirely new life for himself. He was in a different city, attending a different school, and for the first time in his life, living on his own. Possibly even more surprising to Shawn, however, was the one aspect of his life that had not changed in the least. Despite the abundance of flashy, exciting women in the city, he continued to long only for the one that he kissed goodbye one year ago.
Admiring the lightning as it danced in the sky, Shawn wondered if Angela was watching a storm from her window in Paris. They both had the same eye for natural beauty, and he imagined her appreciating the passion of a stormy night. Europe really suited Angela, Shawn decided. As much as he looked forward to her phone calls, hearing her excitement over the nuances of European life made him happy that he'd supported her decision to spend the year there.
Their relationship had grown stronger since Angela's departure. Frequent phone calls and letters gave each the opportunity to share the goings-on in their life with the other, and the two continued to look to each other for comfort and support in the most trying times.
As the storm began to lose its momentum, Shawn undressed to get ready for bed, still thinking only of Angela. He finally understood that old cliche, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." These days, he was as in love with her as ever, but he could not deny that his heart ached with each moment that they could not be together.
Lying in bed alone, Shawn remembered the feel of her skin, the way she smelled, the way she could look into his eyes and the rest of the world would stop. While he treasured their telephone conversations and letter exchanges, nothing could compare to the feeling of electricity that filled the air when they were together. It wouldn't be long, he thought, before they would be lying in each other's arms once again.
Comforted by that knowledge, Shawn allowed the rain's gentle rhythms to guide him into sleep. The storm had faded, and only light showers accompanied him into his dreams.
Little did Shawn know, however, Angela was not admiring the simplicity of a European rainfall from her window. In fact, the Paris apartment that she had shared with her father all year was completely empty that night. Having learned about one month earlier that her father was being transferred to a military base in Florida, Angela knew that the time to resume her life with Shawn and her friends had finally come.
A true romantic at heart, Angela had envisioned the perfect reunion with Shawn time and time again. Although they had talked several times over the past month, Angela never revealed that she would be back in his life so soon.
While Shawn lie dreaming of her in his tiny apartment, Angela wiped the rain from her coat, as she climbed into a cab outside LaGuardia Airport just miles away. It was certainly no time for a petite young girl like Angela to be exploring the streets of New York City on her own, but she was determined to see Shawn Hunter before doing anything else that night.
"Where to?" the heavyset, unkempt, 50-ish cab driver asked her.
Angela dug frantically through her handbag for the napkin on which she had copied Shawn's address. She retrieved it and squinted to make out her writing in the darkness.
"603 East Beaumont," she finally replied, trying to contain her excitement about surprising Shawn.
The time spent in Europe had been good for Angela, and she looked radiant. A floral knee-length dress fell over her slender frame, and she kept warm in a Parisian suede coat. She wore her hair long and braided, and her skin glowed with a new vibrancy.
As the cab made its way through the dreary, darkened streets, Angela couldn't help but wonder if Shawn had changed at all since she'd last laid eyes upon him. He was truly beautiful, she thought to herself. She pictured him standing before her -- smooth, creamy pale skin offset by deep brown hair and piercing blue eyes.
Angela wondered what he would be doing on a night like this. Was he out someplace, sharing good times with their friends? Did he suddenly find inspiration for a poem in the midst of the storm? Was he curled up peacefully in bed, dreaming of the next time their eyes would meet?
Whatever he was doing, Angela prayed that he was out of the rain and in his apartment. She hated the idea of having to wake him so late at night, but nothing was going to keep her from seeing him right away.
Angela's train of thought was abruptly interrupted by the cab driver's attempt to make conversation.
"So, um, Miss," he began, letting out a gruff cough, "what brings you to the city?"
Angela thought for a moment before giving him an answer.
"Some very special people in my life live in this city," she said softly, but her joy could not be disguised. "I...I'm really excited about being with them again."
The cab driver chuckled. "That's good to hear, Ma'am, real good to hear. It's, uh, been awhile since you seen 'em?" he asked casually.
"Yeah, one year actually. I can't wait to start my life right here with the people I love," she said with a warm smile.
"Well, you won't have to wait long," the driver said as the cab slowed to a halt. "603 East Beaumont -- we're here."
Angela peered out the window at the large brick building towering above her. She grinned with nervous excitement as her heart began to race.
"Yeah, it looks like we are. Thank you, so much," she said as she payed the cab driver.
She gathered her bags and opened the door. Stepping out of the cab, Angela called out her wishes for a great night to the cabbie, and the car pulled away. Now alone at the bottom of Shawn's apartment building, Angela began to ascend the stairs hurriedly. Half afraid of the New York night and half anxious to reunite with Shawn, Angela had reached his third floor apartment in no time.
She matched the number on the door with the number she had written on the napkin. 14C. Finally ready to see the man she loved for the first time in what had felt like an eternity, Angela knocked lightly on the wooden door, still feeling guilty about waking him up.
Wrapped warmly under the covers in his king-sized bed, Shawn was awakened by the faint knocking from across the one-room apartment. He turned to look at the clock on his nightstand.
"3:16 a.m.," he whispered to himself. "This has got to be a dream."
Unperturbed by the reality that he had an unexpected guest at 3 a.m. on a rainy New York night, Shawn pulled on a grey t-shirt and slowly made his way to the door. Wiping the sleep out of his left eye, Shawn looked out the tiny hole in the door to uncover the identity of his visitor. The figure that stood on the other side of the door was by no means an infrequent visitor to his dreams.
Still in a dreamy daze, Shawn opened the door to see the love of his life standing before him, damp from the rain, but beautiful as ever.
"God if this is a dream don't ever let me wake up," he whispered, finally snapping out of his groggy state and into the reality that his dream had finally come true.