Rory shook her head at Owen’s offer to release her from her commitment. She’d said she’d go and so she would. As painful as it was to visit James’ grave, lately, it seemed to bring a sense of relief to her, especially when Owen was there. She didn’t say as much, though, not sure how exactly she could phrase or explain it. She thought, perhaps, that so much of visiting James was feeling regret and anger and pain and a lot of that had stemmed from Owen, from not knowing and from hating what he’d done to blaming him to blaming herself for something neither of them could change. But recently? Well, things were on unsteady ground, certainly, but they were no longer in a constant free fall about each other, they were moving toward solid ground and Aurora couldn’t help but feel that that’s something James would have wanted. And maybe it was a final act of sorts she could do for him. Forgiveness had always seemed so impossible but with Owen standing right there, it didn’t seem too far off a concept. Once she’d forgiven him, that fist gripping her heart every day seemed to loosen its hold and the pain had begun to recede, slowly but it was still going away and that was more than she could say for the past six years.
“Look, I said I’d go with you so I’m going.” Her words were said with a small smile, letting him know that she wasn’t upset, that this was good. In a way, it was as though she was relearning him. As though they were relearning each other. All the quirks, all the tell-tale signs and giveaways of happiness and discomfort. The frown lines and the creases from smiling too much. She used to look at Owen like he was the sun– blonde haired boy with blue eyes too bright for their own good– he’d been part of her life for so long and to suddenly be faced with him again– sometimes it was as though she had to take a step back and refocus on one thing instead of trying to take it all in again.
“Hey,” she said softly, standing as she took a sip of coffee before walking over to him and tentatively taking a calloused hand in her own, uncertain if she was even allowed this much but doing it all the same, “stop worrying about me, yeah?” Aurora looked at him with sincerity– knowing that her worries were probably his own but she couldn’t assume that for sure. Still, she knew his nervous ticks, the wringing of his hands and the unsteadiness in his voice. Squeezing his hand slightly before letting going, “let’s go before it rains.” She gave him a haphazard smile, brown eyes conveying a small bit of warmth as she learned to let her guard down around him once more. She moved around him then, grabbing her coat and keys, “Thanks for inviting me, Owen.” Because, while she could have easily gone to James’ grave on her own, the fact that he’d invited her meant he wanted her there and maybe she wasn’t some knife reopening his wounds again and again after all.
There was almost something sacred about the silent pact that had since formed since all had calmed down. The tension had long since past between them and with that, his own nerves stopped churning so constantly in his head. Yet still, Owen had his moments and it was with that where obstacles ran high. He just wanted her to be happy. To avoid any ounce or probability of conflict. The anxiety and complacency of his own attitude intermixed to a chaotic clusterfuck that had him at cross roads more times than not. Ever since Aurora’s forgiveness, there was that sick feeling in his stomach. It was good and it was bad -- all at once. That vying want to spend time with her, yet leave her alone all together. Give her the space that somebody with such trauma could deserve. And yet, within that, Owen could sometimes forget that he had suffered trauma, too.
“I know--” he gave a soft laugh, shaking his head at how headstrong she always appeared to be. A tornado of conflicting emotions was what she was. It was the way in which they were so chaotically alike. Both could never make sense of what they were. Of the emotions they held inside for they always seemed to contradict. Things had surely darkened over the years. How they were now would always be a pale comparison to the hell they had both gone through. The hell he had surely caused. But with that, came forgiveness. Came light. And the light that shoved through his bleak view of the world ever since the accident --- was more than he could ever grasp. Like a glutton who had been starved, Owen could only so desperately wish to hold on to the good he was now so easily handed. He never wanted to let her go again. Rory was his best friend in her own way. Nobody could ever replace James for the either of them. And yet, both so easily fell into sync with each other. It was a comfort that Owen had missed desperately over the years. One that he now clung to with opened arms.
The physical touch she allowed surprised him, evident in the way his head cocked up at her, mouth slightly pursed. Yet Owen smiled, biting on his lip in almost a sheepish manner. Cerulean hues dancing back down to the table, where hand lay on top of his. Even if it was for a mere moment, it was long enough. “I have to.” The words felt strange coming out of his own mouth. As if it wasn’t his place. Over the years, it wasn’t. But god, it should have been. If James had passed in any other way, it would have been. It was Owen’s obvious transition to look out for her, always. To help keep her safe in all the ways James would have done to protect his twin sister. And now, Owen in regards to his best friend, would try his best. All that mattered, was Rory’s happiness. And he could only hope, it would come.
Standing as she began to move around once more, he gathered himself. Pulling his own jacket across his shoulders, he moved to the door, opening it for Rory to step out. “Let’s go, then.” A smile -- one not held by tension or awkward fear graced his features. Perhaps, his own happiness would surely come soon.
snowghoul
pixelskylines
dailybridgerton
tangentwithtanner
