there was not enough air in her lungs. on a rational level, she was dimly aware of this, but everything seemed too far away, now. it was as if she was trapped a million miles under the surface again. vaguely, she knew that she was not alone in the kitchen anymore, that silver was on his feet again and that his hands were on her shoulders — that it was his voice, telling her to look at him, telling her that it was okay.
but that could not be, not really.
this could not be real, she knew what she had seen. she had come into the kitchen because he had been gone for too long, because he had said that he was just going to get some water for them. and then, she had seen him on the floor. and he had not breathed. her hand had started to tremble, then, but she had still reached for his neck, searching a pulse that had not been there.
what had happened next, she did not really remember. not that she had expected herself to remember this part vividly; she was human and denying an unwanted reality was what humans did best. she was relatively sure that there had been a scream. tears, too, though this was not a blurry memory, this was a realisation coming from the fact that someone was wiping tears off her face.
“ silver. ”
she inhaled, eyes flickering over to the spot where he had been when she had come to the kitchen. it was empty, but … that did not have to mean anything. she could not trust her memory, not on this. because she knew what she had seen, knew how numb her fingertips had felt when there had been no pulse below them.
her palms hit the cold kitchen floor — finally something that felt unquestionably real — as she bent over, her forehead colliding with a shoulder. air filled her lungs, she was rising to the surface and breaking through it. still, reality ( undesired, loathed reality ) filtered in slowly. words no longer seemed to come from far away; she could hear them clearly, now.
“ hey. hey! look at me. look at me! it’s okay. ”
slowly, slowly, she lifted her gaze. away from the neat rows of tiles on the floor, towards the face of the shoulder’s owner. the shirt was — right, as was the chin. relief, an emotion she had never known well, rippled through her body, through her very being. her right hand reached for his neck and pulled him closer until their foreheads met.
“ there was no pulse, ” she whispered, her voice coarse. so there had been a scream, she mused as her fingers dug into his skin, rejoicing at the warmth they felt. as much as she preferred the cold of the ice within her own veins, right now, silver’s warmth was a living, beautiful thing, was an anchor to reality that could not be deceiving her. sights and words could be lies, but her sense of touch had never led her astray. “ silver … what happened? you … you weren’t breathing. i’m, i’m okay — i think you need a doctor. ”
was she too forgiving? ur wondered as she wordlessly regarded the man she had forgiven because what, if not forgiveness, was there ever left? she could have turned colder than the winters of her homeland, she could have closed her eyes and turned her heart to stone, but --- what would she have ever gained them that? there had been no point to still being angry, there had not been anything useful in that for many, many years. and ur had always taken pride in being a creature that valued rational thought, that refused to indulge in all too pointless things. so perhaps, it was not that she was too forgiving. perhaps, it was just that in the depths of her soul, she knew that holding on to negative emotions led nowhere and that bitterness should never be bitterness for its own sake.
bitterness was a poison too many drank too willingly --- and ur understood well. she had often thought that it was what was left after the wounds left by disappointment and hurt had faded into scars, it was the scar itself. but it was a scar she did not want, a scar she had been glad to see disappear.
still looking at silver, she sighed. home. she wanted to go home, had not wanted to leave to begin with --- but had accepted that he might just have a point in saying that she could not lock herself away from the rest of the forever, that sooner or later, she had to walk the world again. a world that had not forgotten her, not really, no matter how much time had passed since she had --- died, disappeared ... whatever one wanted to call it. still keeping her head low, she absentmindedly reached for silver's arm and pulled him closer to her, so his size would cast a shadow on her. she was not sure what would happen if someone recognised her, but she did not think that it would be anything good.
“ i know, ” she said calmly as she hurried her step just a little to keep up with his longer strides, dark eyes flickering over their surroundings. their excursion had taken them to a small, near picturesque city, one with many alleyways and bookstores that were tucked away in hidden corners. for her, it was the kind of place she would once have wanted to live in, an academic's paradise. for silver ... she was unsure if he liked it as much as she did, but he had not complained so far and she was counting that as a win, even though the score hardly mattered anymore.
their stay in the city had been dictated by necessity, not by their desire to leave the city she still called her hometown. however, there had been rumours that mages of fiore's most prominent guilds would be passing through soon and so, it had been silently agreed to vacate the premises until they were gone again. it did not necessarily mean that her students would be among them, but ur had long learned not to challenge her luck unnecessarily.
( too much of her life had been dictated by circumstances beyond her control; it was not surprising that she was not too fond of that. )
“ i know, ” she said again, her voice firmer this time as her hand reached for his. “ i'm looking forward to it. ”
she should not still have his number, ur thought as she bit on her thumb. she should have deleted a long time ago, but — she had never managed to bring herself to cut their tie with the necessary determination. leaving the backdoor unlocked, just in case — it spoke volumes about the worst side of her, about the inherent weakness she possessed. the question she had on her mind was innocent enough, on the paper. ur knew their situation too well to genuinely believe that there were innocent questions as far as they were concerned. and she had learned, had she not?
still, she held her breath and typed it out, letter for letter. not because she wanted to send it ( because she was not sure if she wanted that ) but to prove to herself that she could open the empty conversation and type something after having deleted all their previous messages right after their breakup. it went without saying that back then, she had been considerably more certain of where she had wanted things to go.
[ txt ] are you gonna be at that party sanchez is throwing?
for a moment, maybe a second, maybe a minute, her thumb hovered over the send button, then she firmly pressed backspace until the message was erased from her screen, if not from her mind. she had made the decision to stay away from silver before she could end up hurt and it was time she would start to honour that decision.
ii.
ur had not cried about the things her father did — the neglect, the cruel ignorance — since she had been a child. she had come to terms with it, had accepted that he would never care about her and that fooling herself into thinking that this might change, one day, would only hurt her in the long run. because octavian would never change. sometimes, of course, anger was growing inside of her and sometimes, she could admit that much, this anger was nearly enough to drive tears to her eyes. and as cleansing as it would be to cry and even though he would never know, she could not cry over her father, could not let him have that victory.
however, right now, she could feel furious tears prickling in her eyes as she defiantly blinked them away. it was so silly, really, she reminded herself. she had known that her father would be attending her grandmother’s birthday party and she had even anticipated that he would gleefully take apart that stupid case she had lost the other week, but she had not known that for a reason that was entirely beyond her, silver had been invited to the party as well. and while she hated it when her father tore into her failures and pointed out just where she had gone wrong, exactly, it was even worse when the man she had lost to was around as well.
it had been a terrible day, terrible enough for her to throw herself onto her couch with no intention to get up anytime soon while her tea was still in the kitchen — forgotten, abandoned doomed to grow as cold and bitter as her. it had been bad enough for her to glare at her phone’s screen while she furiously scrolled through messages, only to open the shockingly active conversation she had with her ex, a conversation that had been painfully obviously solely about work in the last … four months since he had texted her a simple enough question.
[ txt ] breaking news: i still hate his guts. wow. shocking. tell the press … anyway, /you/ know that i didnt throw the case, right? bc that’s what he not-so-subtly implied
looking at the message, she sighed. she could practically hear the insecurity and the childish need for validation she should long have learned to live without oozing out from her phone. deleting the message again, she set the phone aside and closed her eyes, falling asleep before she could decide to do something she would only regret.
iii.
that she would send the first message she had typed out had never been a question. not telling silver that she would not be able to make their meeting would be unnecessarily rude, and right now, upsetting him would not be her smartest move. they were linked, once more, and theirs was a dance on knife’s edge, a dance were a simple misstep would demand a high tribute, a tribute she was not ready to pay.
the second text … she sighed, shaking her head. while she had to tell him that the meeting was off, she would not elaborate. only a few years ago, she would have called, would not have texted him my sincere apologies, but something came up so i can’t make the meeting and left it at that. because she would leave it at that, would delete the message consisting of grandma is in the hospital, i don’t know how long it will take because they were through, even if it did not always show, and because he had no longer any business knowing what state her grandmother was in.
( nevermind the fact that she knew that out of all her boyfriends, he had been the only one to get along with the — stubborn woman, that he had been the only one the lady had ever approved of. )
shoving her phone back into her pocket, she splashed cold water into her face and wiped it off with her scarf before slipping back into the room where her grandmother was waiting for a doctor to tell her what was up.
iv.
the absence of a ring on her finger changed the game, but not in the way she would have wanted it to. yes, she felt better, knowing that bane had chosen to bow out and disappear from her life rather than to attempt going through with the plan her father had constructed. it was likely that money had changed its owner, definitely, but it was over now and ur did not allow her thoughts to linger there. not when she had more pressing concerns, such as the way quite a few men were circling the table she was sitting at, likely looking to strike up a conversation.
it was annoying, but it was nothing that caused her to worry as long as they kept their distance. she had no interest in playing nice with people who failed to understand that she wanted to be left alone. to further add to the air she wanted to give off, she toyed with her ever-present phone, reading a news article here and answering an email there before she found herself in her messaging app, replying to a few texts she had not gotten around to yet. like the one silver had sent her, asking ( not for the first time ) for information she would not give him.
[ txt ] i know that you still think that i get a kick out of saying no to you, silver, but seriously, just drop it. confidentiality is a thing and i take it seriously
but before she could hit the send button, a shadow fell onto her steak and she looked up, both surprised and not to meet silver’s vaguely amused stare. he did not ask if the other chair was taken, simply pulled it back and sat. the expression on his face was a challenge, a raised eyebrow and a quarter of a smirk, but she did not rise to meet it. there was no reason to be childish, now.
“ the answer is no, you know, ” she said calmly, even though she stabbed her fork into a potato with far more aggression than necessary or justified. “ so don’t even ask. ”
he grinned because of course he did before he reached across the table, pouring water into her water glass and taking a sip, never breaking eye contact. “ it has to be a good evening for you, bambi, if you can indulge in your favourite hobby, telling me no, ” he said and she did not break eye contact either as she pressed the backspace button.
v.
ur blinked, disbelief growing inside of her as she read the last text message silver had had the nerve to send her again. she had read it at least nine times already, but it still did not make a lot of sense to her. he would surely enjoy knowing this, knowing that he could still throw her off like that. it was annoying and she had dealt with sanchez and his empty threats for most of the day, she did not have the patience to deal with silver's antics now. usually, she had some patience left at the end of the day, enough patience to handle him, but she was burned out right now.
[ txt ] i refuse to reply to any of your messages as long as you write like a 15-year-old child, silver
calling him a child was actually mild, but it would --- in all likelihood --- only encourage him further. in a way, this was the actual problem: that convincing silver to stop something was an art she had never mastered, no matter how much she had tried. and even this time, it would get her nowhere. he would only be smug about having found a way to get under her skin and then, he would never stop.
in some ways, his tendency to get on her nerves was oddly reassuring because it gave away what he tried to cover up: that he still cared, too. because if she no longer mattered to him, he would not try to get a reaction out of her. sure, he lived to get a rise out of others, but she had known him for a very long time now and he had never been this persistent. but she would refrain from drawing his attention towards that fact; it was a fact that he knew more about her than he had ever revealed and if she kept some knowledge about him to herself, well, it would only even things out for them.
+ i.
the smile on her face was subtle as she took a sip of her tea, enjoying the winter sun on her face. she knew that her staff probably wondered about how her general mood had improved recently, but she knew them well enough to know that they would hardly question it too much and neither would they talk about it with others; they were all hand-picked and she had chosen them for their ability to keep their mouths shut.
it was not paranoia if one's father had actually placed spies in one's surroundings in the past. she had found it odd then, having previously taken an odd sense of reassurance from her father's overt disinterest in her, but she had since understood what it had been about: her father had not sent his spies because she was his daughter, he had sent spies because he had worried she might become his competition.
for a moment, she wondered if her father would actually lose it completely if he heard that after his horrible daughter had broken up with the fiancé he had selected for her, she was kind of seeing the ex he had always disapproved of once again. as amusing as the idea was, ur doubted that her father cared enough about her to feel bothered by this.
but talking of the other devil, the one she actually loved liked --- her phone beeped twice and she smiled a little more as she grabbed the device from the desk. unsurprisingly, it was silver, asking if she wanted to grab dinner somewhere after work. well, that was the gist of it, it was wrapped into his usual ... silverisms, but she had long learned to decode them.
[ txt ] i'll see you at the usual spot in an hour, then? i only need to wrap a few things up, then i can leave
for a moment, she hesitated, not because she was unsure about the message itself, but because she felt like something was missing, something she should remind him of more often.
001. . . . kills the spider: i kinda doubt that either of them really cares about spiders. so most spiders probably survived because they were ignored or because they were removed from their house. 002. . . . proposed: silver proposed, probably because of social conventions.003. . . . kissed the other first: it’s really 50/50, both could have been the ones to make the first move, but i would guess that there is a certain possibility for ur to have kissed him first.004. . . . initiates things: they are both the kind of people who initiate things, depending on their mood. there is no actual rule that would regulate this sort of thing.005. . . . would leave the other: well, well, well. i wonder, maybe the guy who did leave?006. . . . is more jealous: i genuinely think it is silver who is more jealous, but that ur is not far behind. neither of them get jealous easily, but when it happens, it’s not too pretty007. . . . is lazier: probably silver ngl.008. . . . sends weird texts at 3 AM: pretty sure that both of them have sent three am texts before, but i think that silver accidentally sends the emotional texts he actually wanted to draft or delete while ur sends so-called replies that make no sense because she is 80% asleep when she types them up.009. . . . is more experienced: only one of them is a century-old demon and that’s not ur.010. . . . said i love you first: i think ur said it first, though i am not hundred percent sure that she really thought about it beforehand.
alright, context: so ages ago, i reblogged a soulmate meme with different kinds of soulmates and this is the reincarnation version ( after literal years )
i.
the first time their eyes meet, the first thing she sees is the bright green jacket he is wearing as he opens the carriage for the lord she meant to marry. it is not the most flattering colour, on him, on anyone, but something about the way he carries himself makes it seem like the jacket is meant for a man of unusual abilities. her hair cascades down her back in dark waves as she stands next to her father while the summer heat burns down on her.
❛ i prefer the cold ❜ is what she says, what she confesses when he finds her in the garden later, after she has made her hasty escape from the ballroom, and he nods before accompanying her on her walk through the vast gardens of her childhood home, not yet knowing that five months later, he would tell her goodbye in the herb garden of his employer before going away to fight a war he will die in — partially because he knows that she is falling for him when, really, she should not and partially because he knows that he is falling, too.
( no, fate is not kind to them the first time around. )
ii.
the second time around, she is allowed to love him and he loves her, too. love is true, love is real — love is nearly kind. and so, they are given the chance to taste happiness, to take walks by the river and to trade kisses in the rain. it is a picture book romance, but every story has its end and when the ninth summer comes, she is dying and he can only hold her hand as she perishes, telling her what she has always known — that he, too, prefers winter.
he never quite forgives her for dying this young, for leaving him with their daughter — they both need her, but fate has never been known to negotiate terms and conditions and with time, he learns to live with the pain in his chest.
iii.
third time is not the charm — she catches the train he misses narrowly and so they live long and content lives without ever catching a glimpse on the other. sometimes, it feels like something or someone important is missing in their lives, but they are too busy to ever question this feeling of absence.
iv.
the fourth time, however, things are different. the winter is cold and cruel and bitter winds chase through the city’s narrow streets, but she thinks it feels like home as she wanders through the lonely streets, a bright red scarf wrapped around her small form. winter is a season of the heart, she thinks, as she runs a gloved hand through wind-swept hair. others complain about the weather, a lot, but she never joins in on their whining; if they thought this was cold, they should never try to visit her hometown during the winter months. and she, personally, likes the sharp cold and the snow.
then, she stops and stares at the man who is just coming out of the café, at the man she has met a couple of times before and usually had a good conversation with before something has happened and they have parted ways without swapping numbers first. usually, she would have written it off, she knows, but while there is no shortage of ridiculously attractive men in her life, men that can capture her attention are a rarity.
she exhales, previously unknown tension leaving her as she approaches him. ❛ hello there, ❜ she greeted, one eyebrow arching on her forehead. ❛ didn’t think i’d meet anyone else out here today. ❜
❛ and i didn’t think i’d get to tell you where you were wrong about the protagonist this soon. ❜
she laughs, the sound warmer than anything the city had known since summer, before she nudges his side. ❛ you could’ve had that much easier if you hadn’t run off without my number, you know, ❜ she points out with another grin.
he had always kepthis secrets and she had never complained about this. after all, there were things she did not want to talk about either and so they had fallen into an odd dynamic, a dynamic were some things had never gotten even the smallest mention. and while there had always been the technical option of talking about important things, of opening up about secrets that had been buried so deep that they could never claw their way back to the surface, it was just that — a technicality because they were both protective when it came to their respective secrets.
this was something she had done since she had been a child, had kepther heart locked up because this was where she kept all that was important. shecould not think about everything that had happened in her life because she had beenhurt so many times and at some point, it had become easier for her just to forget.
it wasno matter of trust, not for her. it was simply something she had to handle thisway for otherwise, she would start to give all her secrets away and she did notthink that the world was ready for that. she couldtrust others and still not tell them a single thing. could love someone and still keep some things to herself, never asking for the other’s secrets either.
and she knewthat it was love, still, and for a moment, she hated her heart for doing this to her. she should hate him for leaving,for making her hurt so damn much — buther heart had never let her get away this easily and it obviously was not startingto cut her some slack now because it did not let her get away just like that —because running from this would be cowardly and though ur had always had her flaws, she had never beena coward. She had always stood her ground.
she hadthought, no, hoped that ultimately, timehad washed it all away, that she could go on with her life, that she did not haveto go back to this part of her past. but it seemed like this love was nothing abit of time could undo, could make go away like it had never happened, like it hadnever shook her world upside down.
she hadnever wanted a love like this. she had never thought that she was made for a lovethat could endure something like this and still make her heart beat faster.iIn a way,this angered her. she had been meant to be the rational one, the one that had aplan and stuck to it — it was what had been expected from her. and she had beengood at sticking to that plan.
so what shedid not say was this: i love you. still, evenafter everything. and this terrifies me because you have shown me that you can leave,that you can go and not come back. i’m not sure if I can do the same, if I couldjust pretend that I don’t care. and please, don’t make me find out.
because therewere a few things she simply did not want to know.
things you said when we were the happiest we ever were
he lifts her up like she is nothing but a feather — weightless — and she laughs louder than she has in a long time as he spins her around. she is unsure who is more excited about this — him or her — but she knows that it does not matter, anyway, because the excitement is rising inside of them both like bubbles in champagne. a part of her could not believe it, not yet — they had talked about buying a house in the outskirts of town rather than renting something in midtown and she had been there when they had signed the contract, but it had not really hit her until just now.
the house is nothing special in itself — too small and too simple to compete with the fancier houses she has seen when she has travelled into the centre of the country, once, but it is theirs alone and that is all that matters for her. and it is not just a house, it is also a home and that is the thought that makes her giddy whenever her mind reaches it.
he sets her down but she is still laughing too much and stumbles before she catches herself and looks around, wide-eyed in happiness as she takes in their surroundings. yes, some of the boxes are still waiting to be unpacked, but that that does not matter right now, not really at least.
❛ silver, ❜ she starts and waits until he is looking at her instead of at the empty book shelves. ❛ welcome home. ❜
she kisses him, softly, and all she feels is love.
