Nerissa had done what needed be; the poor boy lay unconscious at her feet, his head against the rocky, dry magma that had once burned but now only became part of the mountain floor. Her Khor growled every so often; the poor thing was hungry.. If she didn't want him that way, Nerissa would've long fed him the violet eyes that Miranda stared solemnly with - feigning a sense of pity for the boy. But Matt Olsen had spat his ugly words down a phone line, the wreak of vodka and something much more inducing of bile steaming off of him as he technically sought not only for an outlet..but an affair.

He'd picked the wrong woman.

And Nerissa watched as Will's eyes flashed up to the nightguard in silence; watching Caleb with anxious haste as she pressed to her ear a phone Will knew fine hadn't been at her bedside nor her home. Will remembered dropping it as the words spat back out at her. #..You think I care! You think I fucking care, but I don't Will! You don't think I couldn't have anyone! You don't think I couldn't screw any fucking..#

Nerissa was surprised to say the least, that she needn't even interfere at the time; the boy simply went on to describe how many other girls he could've contracted a topical disease from in the time he'd wasted on her. The boy didn't even technically say it. Will would have to guess that things were over, when Matt had seamlessly forgotten having the phone in his hand at all: going on to talk to the first woman he'd set eyes on. He'd certainly gone home with her tonight and Will clicked the phone and threw it aimlessly back against the drawer. No surprise, no angst, no disappointment. Nerissa grinned, "You certainly didn't love him.."

Of course, he had tried to force what he 'wanted' from her.

...

There was something of a cruelty in the bitterness of the air in daybreak. Will couldn't pretend that there wasn't a shallow haunting and a deep preoccupation of trouble, though neither of those could revoke her right to smile, her bottom lip trapped slightly between teeth.. Matt already just a relief and of all things, Caleb had out his dagger; plunged into the carpet at it's tip, and his fist clenched around it, as the rest of his body strew limply across her bed and bedroom floor.

She didn't bother to wait, whether it be for morning or the epic protagonist before her, simply because there was no sense in waiting when everything she wanted lay before her; sat on the floor at the left of her bed, with his head lulling back on the Frog Prince sheets just past her toes. "C-Ca.."

A second thought beckoned her to bravery, as she recalled his reactions to all the movies where the Hero got his girl. He'd hated them, naturally, and Will was glad that he'd hated Cornelia; one of them eventually would have, but that only counted if he'd be as wonderful liking her. She thought he would. And everything had slowly warped to make Cornelia a little less narcissistic, and it seemed more like the girl had let her personality shine through, than Cornelia becoming something she was not.. Not that it mattered, and Will cursed her rebellious hair, as it hung past her face, where she'd found herself. Sitting over him. "D-don't touch her.."

She snickered then, no feeling of safety lost, as she pulled his head up to rest her legs under in a cross.. She missed his face. The sweetness, despite the flawless tone and shade.. The fact that she could see the slightest anxieties that laced within and knotted round his heart, even as his nose slanted, leading down – or up in the current view she had of him – to a priceless mouth that tended to exaggerate or take everything far to seriously.. Leading the other direction to thin lashes and peace-less eyes that flickered movement under his eyelids as he dreamed; the slightest frowning decent of his brow, to the centre of his face, Will used a silken touch to pull back rebellious, thick hair that never seemed to look mussed, yet always did. Russet eyes watched his whispered smile when her lips brushed his forehead. And what could Will do; she whispered back. "You saved me."

"Will.." There was no fighting the morning silence from then, for his eyes had found hers the second he'd breathed her name. And she found her morning smile fell, because the pain in his eyes made her want to cry; the sheer, loyal devotion, that Caleb put in his every glance at her. The fact that he had stayed, when Elyon would need him as much if not more. The fact that he really did find her wonderful, but in time he'd only find she wasn't worth it. But she knew – or ought to have known – better than to let her lip quiver and her eyes well in front of him. Caleb's fingers flew, to coarsely brush over her skin, only truly touching her when he pressed his thumb, upside down, over the corner of her eye catching the unshed tear. She didn't stop him, as he drew his fingers through her dirty tresses; tugging on them slightly as the back of his fingers fell back over her cheek. She only let her hand fly to take his away when he choked out whispers again, to destroy the silence. But then, with words like his, even the silence might ignore his beauty. He didn't know what he was saying. "Will.. Please, don't cry.."

"I'm not.. I just.." Every thought in her mind had been exposed, about how she felt of herself. About the truth that Caleb just wasn't seeing yet. He pushed himself up and turned to face her; him on his knees and he must've put the knife down. "Anyone smarter would have said something.."

Frustration rolled down her cheeks. Were she not lying, to say she had not been crying before, the truth was no longer so. She couldn't remember, whether she had been. She wasn't even smart enough to remember whether she had been. "Anyone smarter would have noticed, rather than moping because Matt Olsen had scored the best, most breathtaking, wonderful person whom I made the mistake of-"

"C-Caleb.." He stopped then, and she wasn't sure how she'd ever thought she could read his expressions, because all she could see now was a blur from her tears. But she'd gone all wrong. She'd thought he'd meant something wonderful, but.. "Am I your mistake..?"

"Will.. I was scared, and it was a war.. I didn't want to die.. I couldn't let everyone die.." She couldn't look at him, and she wish he'd let go of her hands, as new tears formed and she forced herself to listen; to face it: the truth. "I made the mistake of thinking it was my duty to save you, rather than being human or good or.. I didn't know what to do, and I didn't even realize what I was doing until-"

He stopped though, as soon as she'd bound herself to him; breathing in everything she'd lost and knowing that he wouldn't even mind his soaking shirt smelling like salty tears and her if she ever let go.

She didn't want to. But she knew what was real. "I am you're mistake."

...

"No.." There were a hundred words for his meaning; the highpoint, the crest.. She was the very most of him and he couldn't find any word for her in that moment. She looked sad and lost and beautiful. She was what he lived for. "You're my meridian."

Meridian: (adjective) of or indicating a period of greatest prosperity, splendor, success, etc.

Caleb has just said that Will is the best part and highlight of his life.