eve/yan (death of a loved one) zy/ceci (ghosts from the past)
Eve led Yan to the bathroom, away from his children and the noise. It was amazing how quickly his face changed once the door was shut behind them. He was so merry if not a bit worn in front of Cecilia. He showed his hard labor but overall success and there the girl was to prove it. She almost fell to his act, that he was back and everything was fine and he’d done exactly what he needed to do, if not for the way he had gripped her hand during that return kiss. It was a tell but it was hidden from those it needed to be hidden from, even as it left her all the more irritated at the former sheep’s presence. The door shut and his shoulders slumped and even as he pressed her hard into it she could feel his wreckage.
What then had happened? How long had he been away? What had he sacrificed in order to get that stupid girl back?
Somehow the questions were caught in her throat as she was forced to be gentle with him, his injuries heavy and old. He seemed more at ease once he had her, didn’t he always?, but still the doom loomed over him and she took him to the bath to clean him up so he could return and put that face on again. It was all very ridiculous but she knew better than to fight him on it. He was never very good at taking care of himself and pretending to be fine would help him become fine. That was always how he did it. Honestly, she was still not completely used to being someone he was comfortable enough showing he wasn’t.
“I don’t want to die, Eve,” he said quietly as she cleaned his injuries. He stayed still so far as she’d done it, even when she knew it had to be causing a wretched pain, still and calm as if in a trance. Only when he spoke did he begin to tremble.
She was quiet for a moment then closed her eyes with a small sigh.
“Then don’t.”
——
Zyere woke with a start, his fist clenching and tearing the sheets and he jolted upright. Cecilia was already awake and sitting up. She coaxed him now, gently touching his shoulders, and saying soft words to calm him that he could not make out just then. It took him a moment for everything to resettle and he released his grip and noticed her for the first time. The sight of her made him shudder and he had to stop himself from pulling away.
“Zyere,” she repeats, still in her soft tone, lifting her hand to cup his cheek now as if sensing his wants to remove himself from her and choosing not to allow it. He closes his eyes again and rests his cheek into it taking a shallow breath as he did.
“Your brother this time?” she asks carefully. He did not like to speak about his dreams. Even after all the time they’d been together he was still careful not to speak about the worst of them. He had spoken to her about his “aniue” before though and sometimes in his sleep he would shout at him, angry and in pain. She could not imagine the world of ash he roamed in in his sleep where his enemies were his family and his loved ones were constantly taken, nor did she understand where they stemmed from. She could only help calm him after, with empty words and reminders. It was painful.
Zyere tried to pick up the pieces of his dream to answer her, but they did not come with ease even when questioned so directly. He’d made another fool of himself at the least, dreaming of his brother like he were the villain in a fairy tale. How stupid. He nodded though then shook his head and leaned down so he could rest against her properly. She embraced him contently even if the position was awkward for them both.
“Sorry,” he murmurs.
She ran her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer into a more comfortable position and shook her head. “It’s fine now,” she said with a naive confidence. She may never understand the ghosts he carried but she was always sure that just then, that very moment, things were okay. They had both made it this far, even if the future was as unclear as the past.