A/N: Let's see. What is there to say about this? I guess, basically, I just love Vaan and Reks, and I also love them together as a pairing. Twisted? No, it's beautiful. haha. Anyway, I just felt deprived of Vaan/Reks and had to write this since it was snowing out. Oh, and Vaan sounds way more mature in this story than he probably is, and I realize that. Maybe he has his mature moments. Please, read and review. No flames. I hope to see more of this pairing in the future. Although, I am quite happy because there are quite a few stories on here about Reks. Anyway, I don't own the characters or the game, just the story. Enjoy!

Unspoken, Unwritten, Undying

It was snowing in Rabanastre, something that very, very rarely happened. Rabanastre was, after all, a desert-like land. But sometimes snow would creep its way in if it was cold enough during the wet season. This was one of those times. I admired the big, fluffy, white flakes as they fell from the sky and landed on my bare arms. I shivered slightly. I really wasn't used to this kind of weather, but I couldn't just stay inside for a rare occasion like this. Besides, it reminded me of him.

Reks had always been the one to enjoy the brief wintertime with me. Penelo hated the cold and normally refused to go out in it. But me, being so childlike over this kind of thing like I usually was, begged my brother to take me outside. He would hold my hand and point out all the especially beautiful parts of the city, all dusted in white. But I would always get so distracted. The snow in Reks' hair made him look even more elegant than he already was. His hair almost shimmered, coated with the wetness of the precipitation, and made even the glistening city look poor in comparison to his beauty. How he could stand being so perfect-looking, I had no idea. I still wonder if he ever even realized.

It seemed like forever ago that I'd walked with him through Rabanastre, that I'd seen his face, or that I'd even spoken his name. His name seemed fragile to me now, like the icicles that dripped from my surroundings, as if it would shatter and be lost if I dared to speak it. And that's why I never talked about him anymore. All I could do was think about him. Reks. If only I could call to him, say his name, just once more.

I'd never told Reks how I felt about him. I never told him that my heart skipped beats when he'd hold my hand, or that my face grew warm whenever he was close. I never told him that I cared about him more than brothers should. I couldn't tell him. I was scared. I wanted to love him as so much more than a brother. It was hard living without it, but rejection and losing him altogether was something that would be absolutely unbearable to live with. And that's why I kept it to myself. I guess I'll never know if he would have accepted me or not, but looking back now, I wonder why I didn't just tell him. He would have still loved me no matter what. How could I have been afraid of the one thing I loved more than anything?

And now, here I am. Alone. Not because of rejection, but because of something much more violent, swift, and worst of all, unexpected. Death now separates me from the one thing I truly love, and that's a border that's uncrossable unless I want to give up what my brother fought for. Death is surely more tragic, more intolerable, than rejection. But I can't help but wonder what could have been. Where would we be now? Would things be different? Would he still be here?

Regardless of whatever kind of ties bound the two of us together, he probably still would have enlisted. Who knows? He might have been even more eager to fight if he was fighting for his love. I hate saying stuff like this, or even thinking it, because I don't know how he would have even felt about it. And because I'm lacking my brother's opinion, I'm not ever going to tell anyone about how I feel. Or rather, how I felt. Reks is gone now, and so my dream will never be more than just that; a dream. These words, these feelings, will never leave my head. I'll never speak them to anyone or even lay them down on paper. That would be disrespectful to him. And my brother never deserved anything less than the greatest respect.

So as I strolled those city streets, these thoughts repeated to me alone. I could see him, I could hear him, and the silver snow everywhere only made the memories of him more vivid. After all, I'd never seen him looking more beautiful than he had that last time we'd walked in the snow together. Little did I know back then that it would be the last time for us. I missed him. I always did, but it was worse I was reminded of him.

It was getting colder, the cold was biting at my neck and ears. And I had to admit, I was getting sick of moping. I sat down beside the fountain. The water was completely frozen, but still kept its perfect form as if it were still in motion. I stared into the ice and imagined his reflection right there beside my own. I knew my brother wouldn't have wanted me living my life this way, grieving for him after he'd fought so I could keep my life. I knew I had to stop looking back and start looking forward, like he would want me to, as hard as it was. Maybe I didn't have to let go completely. I just had to move on, for his sake at least. I smiled for the first time in too long and a soft sigh escaped my lips. I brushed a bit of snow from the frozen fountain, and whispered for the last time,

"Reks..."