Prompt: #18 Regret

Summary: Sitting here across from him, she knows she made a very big mistake.

A/N: Inspired by "Back to December" by Taylor Swift.

Desiderium is Latin for "to regret".

Desiderium

Sitting there, a cup of coffee clenched in her hands, she hopes and waits. Each minute ticks by. Each second slowly making it seem like a lifetime before each small pass of the hand. The bell at the top of the door jingles, signaling the entrance of another patron, startling her. Her hands are shaking. She is so on edge that even with the expectation of the sound, it makes her jerk when she hears it. Then her heart's in her throat as she sees that it's his form that walks through the doorway. All the things that she had been planning to say, all the words she had been meticulously repeating in her head, vanish as she nearly weeps with relief at the sight of him. He had come. Despite it all, he was here. The joy that knowledge brings is pure bliss. Her eyes watch him through a watery blur as he surveys the other diners sitting at the tiny tables in the café before those deep, blue eyes spot her.

Seeing him standing there, actually physically standing there with his eyes staring at hers, she feels like she's finally come back home. It does not really matter that his face is carefully neutral as he looks at her. Just his presence is enough to make her feel like she is where she should be. Where she should have stayed all along. When he walks towards her, she stands to meet him and her smile comes easily for the first time since she had made the biggest misjudgment of her life.

"Hi," she says, her relief palpable in her voice.

"Hi," he responds in kind. He does not move to embrace her and he does not smile. There only politeness there and not the warmth of closeness.

"Can you sit with me?" she appeals to him, motioning to the chair across from her.

He nods, pulling out the chair to sit. Up close now she realizes that his eyes are unsure but he does meet her eye.

"Would you like something?" the suddenly attentive barista chirps cheerfully beside them. The very same one, who had completely ignored her when she had wanted to order five minutes before.

"Whatever the House Blend is. Black," he answers, but never once looks the way of the barista as he places the order.

She waits until the bouncing girl leaves before leaning in and smiling gratefully.

"I'm so glad you made time to see me," she says genuinely. "How's life? Tell me how the guys are."

He hesitates at the friendly question, before he plays along. "I have been good," he answers slowly and then shrugs. "Things have been busy."

She can imagine.

"The guys?"

"Same old. Same old," he replies.

The barista comes back with his coffee, taking her time setting the cup and saucer down, making sure to place enough napkins for him. He only acknowledges her presence with a nod of thanks and completely misses the wink the girl sends his way. After letting him know that he should feel free to call out to her if he needed anything else, she leaves them to be.

"What about you?" he asks quietly, looking into her face.

"Busy too," she answers just as hesitantly. Here she was, conducting meaningless chitchat when she had, had so many things to say to him. "Weather's been horrible." She wants to cringe when the mundane statement leaves her mouth.

"That it has," he agrees easily, but he looks just as distracted as she does. Neither are really focusing on the conversation.

She suddenly doesn't know what to do with her hands. Her eyes follow the movement of his wrists as he idly spins the coffee cup around the inner rim of the saucer before taking a sip of the smooth brew.

"Stella," he says, breaking the suffocating silence and leaning towards her. "What is it?"

His expression is not so neutral now as she looks at her. His tone holds wariness and uncertainty with not knowing what she could possibly want to meet him for. That alone makes her feel exorbitantly more guilty. He should have known. She should have never left him in any doubt. Yet, she had done just that. They both remember all too well how badly she had ended things the last time they had been together. How he had been willing to give them a chance. He had been willing to give her his heart. The image of him with flowers in his hand and the adoration in his gaze would be one she would remember when other memories have faded. It hurts so much to think of it. How cruel she had been to reject him, to reject that image.

Instead of embracing him then, she had thought it better that they parted. Their mission had been accomplished. They had survived. They had been the victors, together. However, there had been so much they both had needed to do. She had reasoned that they were too young and carried too many obligations to commit to each other. What she failed to realize then was that she had only been selfish to think it wouldn't have worked. She'd just been foolish. Stupid and selfish.

It made her the biggest hypocrite. She had been the one that demanded so much from him. It had always been him that had been distant and aloof. The one trying to keep a barrier between them. It was she that had pressed him. She had pushed him into acknowledging his feelings for her, to open up to her. Then when he finally acquiesced, giving her himself, she had said good bye. Shame, the likes of which made her feel lower than a parasite, has her lowering her eyes. Tears of regret and remorse fall down her cheeks. She had no right to ask him here.

"I'm sorry, Noctis," she weeps. "I'm so sorry for how I've acted. For not realizing that what was right, was that you were mine and I was yours." The plea for forgiveness comes from her entire spirit. She's not afraid to lay bare in front of him. She couldn't be proud now. There was nothing to be proud of. "I think back on that night and wish I could take it back."

His face shows no outward reaction to her penitence, but he does not back away from her pleading either.

"I haven't been able to sleep," she admits, before he can even try to cut her off. He can reject her and she would deserve it, but she needed to say these things anyway. "Thinking back on all those moments we had together. They weren't all happy but they were the best times of my life. These long months have taught me that our not being together is just… wrong. I miss you. I miss what we had together. If you could love me again I swear I'd love you right."

She peers at his face intently and notes that the hesitancy is still there but hurt now lingers in those striking eyes.

"I wish I could take that night back," she says again.

"But you can't," he says quietly, his eyes downcast as he stares at his cooling coffee.

"No," she says regretfully, shaking her head against the memory of it. "So I'm here begging you to love me again. To give me another chance. Because I love you. I've always loved you and I'm not afraid anymore."

"Why were you afraid before?" he asks, his eyes suddenly flying to hers.

"How fast and how deeply I fell for you," she says honestly. "But I realize now that you were just as afraid, only you were brave enough and I was the coward."

"And you're brave enough now?"

"Yes."

"Why now?"

Why had she wanted months to say what she was saying now?

"I was ashamed," she admits freely. "I suppose I needed time to miss you too and time to regret you. If you're in need of time too, I fully understand. I just want to know if there's a chance for a future for us."

"Would you wait?"

"Yes," she answers immediately. It shouldn't have even been a question. Of course she would. It was only fair given how callously she'd treated him when he had been so vulnerable. That hadn't been easy for him. A man that was so secretive and shy, to be so cruelly rebuffed. It shames her all over again. "I'll wait as long as it takes."

The admission seems to surprise him. She's never really been patient when it came to being with him, but this is her way of telling him that she's sincere and that she knows that gaining his trust again would take time. He wouldn't miss the significance of what she was promising him. She isn't disappointed when she sees that he wants to be convinced by her words but he's remembering that last night again.

"Will you… at least think it over?" she pleads.

He nods, twirling the cup again but not so idly now. Sucking in a quick breathe he says, "I have to get to get going."

"Of course," she replies, trying to hide how desolated she feels. They both stand awkwardly as he drops a few bills onto the table. "This is on me."

"No," he says with a shake of his head. The look in his eyes look more resolute instead of unsure. "I'll see you, Stella." He does not smile but he does not look objectionable either.

"I'll see you too, Noctis," she replies hopefully.

He looks down at the floor as if he wants to say something else.

"Good bye," he says finally and without another glance, he's walking back out the door.

The jingling of the bell seems louder this time. There's almost a finality to the ring and she hopes that it isn't a prelude of how things would turn out between them. Whether he decided to give her another chance or not. It would never replace the regret she would have every time she thought back to that night back in December.

The door to the café reopens and in walks the barista. It's not in her to be curious about why the woman had been out there in the first place. But she watches her as the girl makes her way to her table with a hand hidden behind her. When she reaches her table, she meets the woman's eyes with confusion.

"He told me to give this to you," the barista explains, laying a small object onto the table beside her hand.

It's not until the other woman walks away that she looks down to see what it is. A sob chokes her as tears fall freely down her cheeks. There was her answer.

He had given her, her favorite flower as he had that night back in December.