The first time he leaves, she's barely holding back tears as she chokes out, "Why?"
He looks away from her, before replying. "For work. The business and all that. I'll be back as soon as I can." He lifts her chin with one hand, the other moving to brush the tears from her face. "Come now, sweet, don't make this harder for me. I don't want to go, either. But I have to do this."
Part of him wishes that were true. Yes, he does feel something for the girl, but love? No, not at all. And what he does feel isn't enough to keep him here, in this small town where only small dreams will do. But not for him, no, he has plans, he's going to be something, something Great.
She nods. "I know."
He kisses her cheek as he walks out the door, pulling his luggage behind him. It'll be a year, not a few weeks as he had promised, until she sees him again.
She's working in the garden, taking care of the flowers she loves so much, when he walks through the gate. He places a cold hand on her shoulder, and smirks as she gasps.
"C-Clive!" she stutters, frozen in place. He laughs, and holds her close. She pulls away first, asking the question she's been afraid to know the answer to. "Are you staying?"
He smiles as he answers. "Yes. We've made some good progress on the projects, and everything's going well."
She lets herself be pulled back towards him, his kisses soft on her skin. "I'm sorry, Flora." he whispers into her curls.
"It's fine. I know you had to go. All that matters now is that you're back." she replies.
Honestly, he's surprised she waited that long. He sure as hell wouldn't, if the situation had been reversed. But then again, loyalty had never been one of his strong points. Flora, on the other hand, was fiercely devoted to those she cared about, and in some ways, she was the complete opposite of him. Maybe it was that, her sweet nature and innocence, that attracted him to her in the first place.
They go about as normal, as if he'd never left. Yes, she is a bit reserved at first, he notes, but that soon gives way and she's once again at ease.
That is, until the small town routine gets to him. He thinks he'll go utterly mad if he stays one minute longer. It never once occurs to him to bring her along. She'd be eaten alive in the Real World, she would never belong there.
He's debating how to tell her, as he sits on the edge of the bed. He glances at her, sleeping peacefully with her hair tumbling over the pillow.
He decides to leave a note.
But, unfortunately for him, she wakes up when he's only half-way done. The drowsiness that held her is immediately gone when she takes in the sight of his packed suitcase, and very quietly, she says, "You're leaving."
He nods, offering no explanation. And this time, as he climbs into the taxi, there's none of the tears as she waves him off. Only a touch of sadness in her deep brown eyes, and something else. Was is resignation? He doesn't dwell on it for long.
He's actually lost track of how long it's been as he strolls up to the house, the familiar red car still parked in the driveway. His knock is greeted by Luke, and Clive's puzzled by the boy's attire; a formal suit. Upon entering the tidy sitting room, he sees the Professor dressed similarly.
"Is this a bad time?" he asks.
"Oh no, my boy. Luke and I are just on our way to–" the Professor begins, before being cut off by Luke. The former apprentice murmurs something to the man, and he nods his head in agreement. "Actually, Clive, get dressed. I'm sure she'd appreciate it if you came." They don't give him any clue as to what it is they're taking him to, but he goes along anyway.
He's surprised when they pull into a church. "What are we doing here?" he says.
And then it clicks.
She really does make a beautiful bride. Her dark hair is swept up into a bun, and gleaming pearls adorn her white dress. A misty veil covers her face as the Professor walks her down the aisle, but there is no mistaking the joy sparkling in her eyes. She's every bit as elegant and regal as a bride should be.
She walks right past him, to the man waiting for her at the altar.
With one look at him, Clive can see exactly what kind of man he is. He's the type that will teach their son to be a gentleman, coach his sport teams. He'll threaten their daughter's boyfriends, give in to every demand disguised beneath a 'Please Daddy?'
And he's the type who will cherish his wife every day.
Really, he should be happy for her. He couldn't expect her to wait, could he? But he did. A part of him, however ridiculous, believed she'd wait for his arrival with bated breath.
He watches as they share their first dance, and it quite nearly makes him sick at how completely, hopelessly in love they really are. It's an easy thing to imagine them growing old together.
As cake is cut and merriment ensues, he slips out the back. He's sure she never saw him.
It's ten years when he sees her next, the last time he will. She's sitting on a bench, watching a boy and a girl play in the park.
"Do you mind if I sit?" he asks, gesturing to the space next to her.
This time, when she sees him, there's no surprise in her expression. "Clive." she says warmly. "How've you been? I've missed seeing you around."
He nods, not quite expecting this reaction out of her. But she's always surprising him. "Likewise." he finally says.
They sit, for a while, in silence. On his part, it's because he's suddenly afraid of saying the wrong thing and is actually not sure what to say. On her's, it's because she's just comfortable sitting there quietly.
"Found a friend?" an unfamiliar voice comes from behind him, making him jump. Flora turns and smiles at the man, reaching out to grasp the cup he offers her. There's a glint as something catches the sunlight, and Clive recognizes it as a ring, a ring that will always be there to show she'll never be his again. It's then that he realizes he has just interrupted a family outing.
"I should probably go." Clive says, standing up quickly. The need to get out of there, out of that god forsaken town, is overwhelming.
Flora looks up at him. "Alright. It was wonderful to see you." And she looks back at her children that have now gathered around her, anxious to see what their father brought for lunch.
As his plane takes off, he wonders if he had stayed, with that have been him? Sitting in the park with their son and daughter, enjoying a beautiful autumn day? He likes that mental image. He falls asleep, and dreams of a woman, a woman who once loved him. It's strange, he can almost touch her, smell her, and she's whispering one thing over and over:
It was all your fault.
And Clive knows it's true.
A/N: What's this? Me, writing something that's not super adorable and fluffy, and during a school year no less? Yup, this got stuck in my head last night, and just wouldn't go away. And Sarah dear? This would've been your birthday present, but I know who you really like with Clive, but I just can't write well enough (can't write magically like you) to do them justice. Love you lots.
Reviews are much appreciated.