He sits there, the same place that he remembered landing the first time this happened. A place in time that they both share. Although, much to his pleasure, her request was better carried out than her summoning. As he looks up he finds the roof intact, as well as everything in the room, stretching out he realizes that he is in the same position as before...
I've been summoned by a peculiar little master.
Surely she would force death upon him if he repeated the same offense. In fact, she hadn't been peculiar. She had been the world, but he never spoke those words to her.
The light patter of feet as they approach what must be his location. She throws the door open, the reveal being more than he could have actually imagined.
She stands there, dressed in their colors, but the outfit has changed. The same black skirt type exists, but sinfully shorter for him to observe. The thigh highs thankfully still commit to her service, but the shirt has changed to a casual red tee that clings to her skin, showing more of her body than heaven and earth can handle. A sight that reveals she has aged to a womanly perfection while he was away, and he is in turmoil for the thoughts that cross his mind.
Desire for her, a need for her, a jealousy of not seeing her grow, a sorrow for leaving her to begin with, a love for her that Death cannot seem to seperate.
Her annoyance grows as he remains lost in thought, only being snapped back by the furrow of her brow staring at him.
"Archer... My summoning was far more correct...I know that you are here. The house even remains intact, so some of your memory must have as well". Her annoyance seems to only have gathered momentum with his silence.
He closes his eyes, looking down, only to summon a simple smirk and a nod.
"I'm glad to see that your age has afforded you the capability to adequately summon a hero this time."
He expects to hear the running of footsteps, a punishment he is all to expecting, but instead finds nothing. He goes to open his eyes only to see her vastly approaching his laxed position on the chair. Archer quickly stiffens and begins to calculate the possibilty that this is merely an alternate universe, not a continuation.
She delicately approaches him, a smirk crossing her face as she realizes how off guard he is. She lifts one leg and gently places it on his thigh. She seems unsteady and out of reaction he places his hand upon her right side, affording her the balance she lacks. The sensation of once again feeling the soft form of her body against the rough of his calloused hand sends electricity throughout him. She continues her climb and rests herself on his lap, a friction and contact of dreams that has become a reality. She reaches into the pocket of the skirt, now painfully short for Archer.
In one swift move he seems a gleam of red and silver before the object passes from sight and disappears. He feels the cold of it contacting his neck as the weight adorns him.
The jeweled necklace I returned.
It sits beautifully upon him as she looks delicately at it. She seems proud and another emotion he doesn't recognize as seeing openly on her face. She smiles before staring into his eyes, or rather his soul. Those aquamarine eyes taking everything he hides with their gaze.
"Rin-"
A finger upon his lips.
"I waited for you. I am sorry I lost you the last time my Archer. This time..." Her breath is caught in her throat. "It won't be the same".
The Master he left behind was far younger than what he sees before him; her youthful innocence having given way to the desire of womanhood. The way she used to be could have been mistaken for cold, but he understood it to be a protection from pain. The woman in front of him though, lacked every defense he had known. Her heart was completely open.
The stare they had been sharing, dissecting the information between each other disappated to the wind as they neared each other, their faces already nearing enough for her to feel his breath gently caressing her face as she wished his hands would. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, she felt the skin of his face contacting hers and their lips embrace in a way that they had spent so much time longing for. The release of that tension between their lips, a frozen moment in time for them, one that cemented a defintion of this second chance.