Tears

Time Frame: After defeating Luther.

Personal Interaction Level Between Sophia and Albel: That unsure stage where emotions are too raw for either to know how to express their feelings.

There is no connection in this to the first chapter.


Moisture, unwelcome, sped thin lines through nearly invisible creases in the skin. No amount of force could hold them at bay. They found their way out and exposed the core of emotions of the heart. A wasted action. There was no reason why such an act of nature should persist its presence among the unwilling.

She extended her hand to him, but withdrew it quickly. Uncertain as to how he would react, she wanted nothing more than to prevent more tears from falling. She knew he hated crying, but it was out of her hands. This was something she had no control over. There was no way she could stop the flow of salty release.

He watched her hand shrink back with mixed feelings of contempt and relief. The last thing he wanted was to be touched. The tears were bad enough! Adding her touch to it might lead him to an endless road of loathing. And yet, at the same time, his skin crawled. It had wanted her touch. He had wanted to feel her warmth on his coldness.

Steady as in their course, the tears continued to drop. Water blurred vision in an unstoppable assault. Trying to will them away only forced them out. Negotiations would hold no bounds within the spent emotions trudging down each cheek. There was no end to it as moisture stained the ground between them.

She sniffed effortlessly, holding on to anything she could that might help. Her self confidence had risen some over the last few weeks; but she still felt inadequate under his gaze. The way he looked at her now only heightened her anxiety. She was nervous before the tears came; but now she was frightened. He didn't react well to tears and thus far, these tears were the worst of them yet.

He wanted nothing more than to seize her and end the futile bout of crying. He would not be responsible for a single tear for he had done nothing to cause them. It was her fault and her fault alone. He would no sooner take the blame before he would cut her heart out and be done with it. But for the life of him, he couldn't coerce himself to even reach for the hilt of his weapon.

In the dim glow of the street light, each tear sparkled like a star. In each drop was a universe of mixed feelings. Had there been a better time to cry, it was only second to this exact moment. These tears would determine the future of them both. Would tears alone be enough to insure that things ended as they should; or would they simply thwart any attempts at the happiness both yearned for? Was it a form of weakness or urgency that had brought forth the intrusion?

She couldn't hold back any longer. She had a decision to make and with each tear she leaned forward to a destination. This time weeping was acceptable in her eyes – if not long overdue. As the dirt soaked up each drop, her heart pounded. She sniffed again, holding back a tide of emotions building at the dam of her resistance. Without provocation she closed the gap between them and wrestled her arms around his slim waist.

He tensed as he peered down at her head pressed into his chest. Had he not been so distraught (for once) he might have thrown her off of him. The very thing he hated was the one thing she provoked; and yet…and yet it was something he accepted better than he had imagined he would.

Timidly, as if she would break under him – or he would find her to be nothing more than an illusion – he encircled her with his own arms. Keeping his focus on her, he couldn't stop as he watched each tear he shed blot the top of her head.

She had mentioned that she was free to leave and pursue her life as it had been before discovering 4D space. She had asked him to walk with her as she spouted about the things she could do when she was reunited with her own people. Still, there was a hesitation in her voice. Her tone quivered and he knew she was struggling.

When the tears began it was sudden and unexpected. She had never come close to crying though she was in turmoil. Only after his red eyes watered did she truly see the weight her decision had on more than just herself.

She had thought he might be glad to be rid of her. They had grown close, but he never initiated it. She had wondered on several occasions what his feelings were but would ponder on with no answer in sight. He refused to respond to her direct questioning and kept to himself what emotions he might have. She had a hint that there might be something buried deep in him. Something he fought to hide from her and himself; but she dared not think on it too long. She was careful not to let herself think something might be there if it wasn't. She didn't want to hope for the impossible.

Yet! Yet here he was, hugging her and crying. He didn't sob or shake or sniff his nose. His tears were silent and his face showed no expression. Where words had failed him, his tears had spoken.

And she would stay with him and insure that she ever again caused him to cry.


(A/N) I'm half asleep while writing this, so it's probably not going to sound like I want but I'm also too tired to really worry much about it. I was attempting to make it sound like it was Sophia crying at the beginning…but I don't know if it came out that way.