It's just a random one-shot I wrote, enjoy
"I don't want to go."
She whispers these words as she's about to climb the stairs out of Myrnin's laboratory for what could be the final time in her life, and she knows he can hear her; he can always hear her. No matter when he pretends that he can't, he always can, he always knows how she feels and what she's going to say, even before she does, sometimes.
It's going to break her heart, leaving him, but she has to. She's leaving everyone behind, and that includes Myrnin. Amelie won't let him leave Morganville—and anyway, Claire wants the chance to change, to meet new people. Taking the people she loves with her wouldn't allow that to happen.
He's standing in front of her before she can breathe, one moment the stairs above her empty, the next filled with Myrnin. His expression's as morose as she feels, and she can tell that he's only just managing to prevent himself from crying; his eyes are glistening, though, with the liquid that's ready to fall when he loses control.
"You don't have to go," he replies, an edge of desperation to his voice though he knows it's futile. She wouldn't be able to change his mind and she can't change his. It's part of what would make them such a great couple, she thinks rashly, if things were different, if she wasn't leaving or he wasn't staying. He knows her, knows how to complete her sentences and is three steps ahead of her when she's trying to solve something.
He's a challenge, but there are times when he's so easy to work with, and they're the most fabulous times in her world, because they make her realise that the struggles are worth it—she gets something out of all her effort, and perhaps that's what makes her love him the most.
"I do," she murmurs, her own eyes swimming with tears. Before she can wipe them away, his finger is already capturing the droplets before they can spill down her cheeks, his touch cool against her skin. "You know I do. I'll miss you every day, I'll always wonder whether or not you'd do something different. You know that I love you."
He nods slowly, and Claire realises that he's now crying, too. She supposes that it's her confirmation that she shares his love that's done it, because now it's too late for anything to happen. They'll never be together now, and it's probably cruel to have told him this now she's leaving, but she had to.
"I know," he whispers, reaching forward and pressing his lips against her forehead. "I know you do, my cariad. And I will never truly put a blockade up to you achieving what you dream. That's all I want, for you to be happy."
Claire smiles amidst the tears which continue to fall, and before she can say a word, his lips are upon hers; for the briefest second it's like heaven and hell are meeting at their lips, an eruption of fire and ice occurring concurrently, and it's the most beautiful kiss she's ever experienced.
Probably because it's the product of love and loss, she thinks.
"I'll call you," she tells him, and when she blinks, he's gone, disappeared back into the dark shadows that is his laboratory in the night. He doesn't say goodbye and neither does she.
Because saying goodbye makes her departure permanent.
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