She flutters about him as a moth might a flame, silver bells in the hollow of her throat. A finger's brush to his shoulder, his elbow as she sweeps past, the line of his back as she circles around once more. All so that she might stop just before him and smile, close enough to challenge the cold with her own.
"Since we're doing letters now," she chirps, withdrawing a petal-pink envelope from her pocket and waving it beneath his nose, "I thought I should keep on theme~"
Disregard that she had chosen to deliver it personally. A fool might wonder if she is lonely, if an excuse to see him is more for herself than for Kevin.
"You're only allowed to read it when you're alone, 'kay?" A wink for good measure, just to make sure he doesn't get any ideas about doing so sooner.
And when he does, finally have the moment:
Dearest Kevin,
A few times in your life, you've been right. Months ago you wrote to me of a daydream you thought that I might enjoy, and that was one of them.
You might be surprised to know how many times I've considered if I regret my decision. Don't worry, the answer is always no. A perfect girl like me never has regrets, after all~
But sometimes, every now and then, I do wish I might could be a little less perfect. Bizarre, don't you think?
Because if I could regret anything, I would regret that I could not have been there with you through it all. I would lament the fact that the world had to be worth more to me than my friends. Maybe we would have still been the heroes by the end of the story, together. I believe we still can be.
If you were meant to die a villain, you would still be dead.
So do me a favor and live like you're more than that. I know that's no small ask-- you've been miserable for so long that I almost can't remember a time when you weren't-- but you have a chance and you should take it. Make something of it. That's what you got it for, after all!
Besides, this second life may not come with such forgiving, youthful skin. Seriously, wrinkles are a real problem!!
Happy birthday, Kevin. I hope it hasn't been too long since you last had someone to say that to you.
( And if it has, well, it never will be again. )
XOXO,
Ellie ♡
The wave of the letter beneath his nose brought to mind a bouquet of perfumes, soft and floral and sweet, and most of which her certainly filled in with the scent memory his mind provided. Whether she had done so deliberately or not, he was overwhelmed, momentarily, with the sensation of everything that had passed in between them, every brush of those fingers along his back, shoulders, arms that had filled his nose with the scent of her.
It was almost cruel, for her to insist upon his loneliness before indulging of her – as though she believed him to have ever not been lonely. As with so many things Elysia said, it was impossible to discern her true motives, kept close to her heart, and possibly clouded even from herself under that sweet floral perfume.
His eyes glanced over the words, taking them in as a whole at first, and then rereading again, then again, then again until they had been committed to memory – a habit, perhaps, when it was the only thing that he had to call upon, his fingers gentle against the page with the practice of one who had done this same thing to another letter, longer past than any living could have pretended to comprehend.
Those words had long faded, he now realized, but these before him, stark and bright against the page emphasized something to him that he had, perhaps, forgotten: Elysia was braver than he was.
He presented the stronger front, but the truth was undeniable when he danced around these hard subjects, did not confront them directly, as she did – those months ago, it had been the same, merely hinting at his presence, for her to do with the information as she would, and here, now, she bared her regrets for him to see.
Perfect, even in her imperfection.
It was not the time to ask her why she had made her choices, anymore than it would be the time for her to ask him why he'd made his. But she knew where he was, and he where she was – the steps trod in either direction, and if either of them were just a little braver, they could meet in the middle.
