Fluidity

She had seen the signs, but she pretended not the see them. Because the easiest way to avoid what you hated, loathed, detested was to not even acknowledge its existence.

But some things, sometimes, are impossible to ignore.

She used to wake up in summer's embrace and laugh and smile and find him there waiting for her. And it gave her childish heart such joy to see him there waiting for her and only her and eyes only for her because he knew no other. Her heart would beat, beat, beat and thump, thump, thump and she'd just wished he would hurry up and have all the symptoms of fellow, light, and simple love for her.

Every night she'd say a word or two of thanks. Thanks and extra thanks for giving him to her. More and more thanks for having him secured for her. And even more and even more thanks for him liking her, even if it wasn't in that way, not just yet.

Yes, she'd say her thanks.

She supposed naïve little children don't expect tragedy in any form, and she never did notice the distance as it grew and grew. She hadn't grown up yet, hadn't really known what he wanted, what he expected.

But she knew he was hers, oh joy of joys, and she couldn't let him go. So summer went and winter and spring too… until summer came again. And that repeated a few times.

And not once, oh never once, did she let go because she didn't know to. He was hers, she was his, there was something so simply beautiful there that she was blinded, perhaps wanted to be blinded, to reality.

Because reality is such a cruel, cruel thing to the bounty of seamless, weaving dreams of sunshine and smiles in a child's mind. But she went on pretending and never even thought to notice-

And BAM. It hit her and then she couldn't stop crying for days. He noticed, said some words, and she'd sniffle with a hand running along her eyes as she attempted to stop but couldn't. Then he'd smile a little exasperatedly but wholly kind and jokingly and helped her with the task because he couldn't stand to see her cry, not when he was responsible.

He had that boyish smile, so rare, so rare, that her heart soared and cried all at the same time as she took the handkerchief and wiped her running nose like he had instructed her to do over a fifty times already, or so he had said. He wasn't the patient sort. But she didn't care. She loved him for who he was.

She loved him and now when she was feeling threatened by no one she wanted to whisper it over and over again until he remembered and didn't leave her all alone with nobody to care for her. If he left… well, she couldn't bear that.

If he found somebody else though… she'd die. She'd die.

Maybe because she had that thought it happened. A couple more years, yes, but it happened. She lost him. First in literal distance and then totally, completely. It probably didn't happen all at once. She knew it hadn't. But still, he was gone.

And she DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO.

So she pretended. This time for real. For real and true. She came and followed him just like she always had. And maybe she clung a little more than normal because she was threatened and she knew it but would never say so. Never think so. She just held him tight because she loved him. Not because there was that other girl. No that other girl was no one.

She loved him. Before she had wanted to whisper it. Now she wanted to yell and yell those words until she couldn't anymore so he'd remember and come back. She probably knew even then that he wouldn't be coming back to her. He was never really hers in the first place.

She had always been happy that at least she had time. She had time to make him love her because they were promised for each other. For forever and ever and happiness had to come from that or else what kind of fairy tale could her life be?

Only her life was no fairy tale because there was no evil step sisters or any curse or evil witches. There was no stunning prince either to whisk her away.

There was only a lonely little Meilin and her lost Syaoran who wasn't coming back. Wasn't coming back.

What was a girl to do when thrust into reality? Where was her knight in shinning armor?

Where? He didn't exist. Because Syaoran was someone else's and that just killed her like she always knew it would.

So Meilin steeled herself and cried by herself until she could voice the words to herself in the mirror and to pictures of her dearly departed love that wasn't really dead but was to her.

And then she grabbed out one last time and held tight even though his face was marred by annoyance. She held tight and sighed and cried just a little bit more so he wouldn't notice her tears and smiled her worst smile but tried her best anyway.

At first he didn't understand when she finally said it. Maybe her voice had been a little too broken right then. Maybe her voice was too quiet in her hesitation. Maybe she had lost it along with her love. Maybe she hadn't really said anything at all, never even tried to. Maybe this was all a horrible dream.

But then she said it again and he heard and then she knew that this was no dream. No, not a dream. Dreams were nice, lovely. There was a princess and a prince and a love of shimmering, beautiful reaping awards. Love that flowed and danced and was so remarkably composed of fluidity that you felt you were flying, no floating, and would never ever drown.

No, this wasn't a dream. This was a nightmare come true.

She could see his disbelief but this true, true appreciation, this true friendly love that spread from his heart to hers but she turned away her face for fear of breaking down because this wasn't the love she wanted.

Instead, she said it again to accept the finality and reality, broken and still smiling. "I'm letting you go."

And now she's a bridesmaid and thinks that she did the right thing because this would have happened with or without her blessings. And she'd have rather given them then to still be miserable.

Even if she's on her own, she'll be fine.

The couple had just kissed and the ceremony is over and finally she feels like it's over and she can move on.

It will be fine, she'll make it alright.

Love is fluidity made of dreams and hearts and almost perfection and belonging and happiness and acceptance. She knows that because she's been in love. Love is wonderful, but she can wait a little longer and maybe be surprised for herself and discover what mutual love feels like.

For now she doesn't need her prince.

Wasn't she always strong?

—Fin—

Finally, finally. Written a Meilin-centric one-shot. Love her, you know you want to.

And now—? Maybe a review? Oh, & I do not own. Thank you dearly for reading.