Moving On

By WickedSong

Disclaimer: I don't own Eternal Sonata or anything related to it in any way

Note: This story changes from past to present tense. It was not a mistake.

It was at night when the questions floated through his head. He would ask himself how he could ever move on. He would question how the picture of her dead body would ever leave his head. He would wake up in a cold sweat and sit up wiping tears which were a mixture of both sweat and emotion and he would ask himself another question. He would ask if he would ever have an answer to the other two questions. He didn't know if they were answerable really.

He still remembered the first day he had met her. It had been two years ago and he had believed her clever ruse and he couldn't have seen passed her mask of deceit. He was too quick to accept her he would always say to himself, as he remembered seeing the look of determination on her face and being sure, despite the other members warnings, that she was against the Count. To put it simply he let his feelings cloud his better judgement. As time went on they became closer but yet he couldn't say whether it was love or just something close to it. Whenever he had these doubts though he had to admit to himself, all the smiles and all the laughter did seem genuine.

Finding out she was a spy was a hard blow for him to take. It was so unexpected but yet he had to admit that with every growing day it was becoming more and more clear and therefore more hard to deny that it had been her. He had only wanted the spy to be Falsetto for one reason. For his own selfish reason. So that he couldn't lose the woman he had fallen so deeply and gradually in love with. So again he had hid his suspicions and fears about her behind those clouds which had become so full of the hard truths he couldn't - or was it just that he didn't want to face them? In the end it was hard for him to tell if the feelings he had hid away from the world were nothing more than an illusion or dream he had thought up himself.

Seeing her dead crushed him, crushed him more than he had let on. He had to show his strength even if he found it hard and soul-destroying for him in the process. He had to defeat the devastation and convert it into strength. The strength to kill the man, who had ironically led him to the woman he was seeking to avenge. The strength to kill Count Waltz.

He now stands walking around the Baroque castle gardens. He sees Viola with Polka and for a moment he feels a feeling that he had felt recently. It is a feeling he had definetly felt before. He looks to the older woman and he contemplates her in his mind. She is spunky, she is strong and she is very beautiful. He has definetly not moved on yet, how could he? He tells himself this very sternly but as he looks to the blond woman who even before Claves' death he had grown to have a new feeling for, he knows something. He has faith the dreams will disappear and that in time he will grow to love again. He smiles, something that has not graced his face for a while.

I have recently developed a love of small descriptive character pieces. Little oneshots which contain limited or no dialogue at all and just follow a thread of thought. The past to present tense may have been really weird so I'm sorry but I think this worked. Just something for all you JazzxClaves shippers as well as a little implied JazzxViola at the end :)

Hope you enjoyed.