A/N: Special chapter!~
Usually I format the flashbacks in italics, but this whole chapter is set in the past so the formatting is kept normal!
This chapter carries the same warnings as the last chapter- suggestive themes and scenes, no graphic depictions.
KittyKat-Belle: Thank you! I'm so happy to hear that you enjoy this fic too! I'm really enjoying writing this myself. You mentioned a chapter in Claude's pov, funny thing, I had this written out for some time before that, I just wanted to space the upload apart. :)
I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy. I send to you good wishes! And I Thank you for reading, l'd love to know what you think! This is my favorite chapter so far!
Chapter 5: Bygone Days
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Hopefully when you find this letter, my friend— you'll already be home! I'm not sure what I would do if you discovered it before then. There are a thousand things I wish I could tell you, but I lack the words and the courage needed to even begin. As you know I've asked if I could go with you. But you've been adamant I not "abandon my family" and I would truly never keep you from your dreams so, here we are.
I wish you luck on your journey home, and wherever you may go henceforth... You have always been resilient, I know you'll succeed. Though I wish not to even mention it I find I am unable to do so. The time we've spent together has meant the world to me. You've shown me how to live and I thank you for that. I never truly trusted, until you, and I want you to know, though I've been more than selfish I never intended to take advantage of you. I hope you never felt that way, but my conscious won't let me rest if I never establish that.
I know—
"What are you doing?"
"Ah!" Claude jumped and quickly flipped the paper over. "Nothing~."
Balaiya narrowed her eyes at him. "Mhm, sure."
He held her gaze for a moment longer before giving her a wink and causally placing the paper in his drawer. "How goes the packing?"
Packing , he couldn't believe it. She was really leaving. And while he was truly excited for her, a part of him stung whenever she mentioned it. Now he was talking about it as if it were nothing, when the very words tore up his throat like swallowing tiny razor blades.
"Ugh, I might be losing my mind with all of the last minute errands I've been running. Making lists, reading them over so many times only to realize I've missed something— so it's going great." She sighed heavily and twisted her fingers into his hair. "I'm so tired of being hunched over my suitcases."
He tilted his head back to lean on her chest. "Why don't you go for a walk? Breathe in the fresh air?" Why don't you stay? He wanted to say instead, but he knew better. That conversation was one he constantly played in his head, but never said out loud. He wouldn't dare. Not when he knew what she'd be abandoning if she stayed. She had a life to return to, family, friends, and now a good job! Who was he to stand in her way?
She started to braid a section of his hair. Not counting the one that framed his face, at this point he already had two others scattered about. "A walk? I just walked back from the corner store. I don't think another one will do me any better."
"Well, are you hungry? I can make you something."
She hummed quietly, her nails absently scratching lightly down his neck.
He sighed. Did she know how absolutely wrecked he has been the last few days? How utterly devastated he already was, and she hadn't even left yet! Though one of the more innocent things she's done, it still tore him to pieces.
He reached his hand up to cup her cheek, he only meant to do that and nothing more. But she must have taken it as an invitation, because she leaned down and kissed him square on the mouth— just a breath longer than what would be considered chaste.
She pulled back just enough to speak. Each syllable ghosted against his lips, like a finger beckoning into the dark. "I think I am. I don't want anything specific. Just make your favorite."
He blinked up at her. His favorite? Why couldn't he think of what that could possibly be? He could only think of dishes she loved. "Okay." He murmured softly, his voice suddenly hard to find.
"Afterward, maybe we could go to the beach? One last time— I don't live anywhere close to the ocean… and the waters here are so clear and beautiful."
"Sure." He glanced at his dresser where a shell sat that she found from the first time he took her there. She had been so excited, her eyes might as well have been glowing.
"You're the best!" She swiveled his chair around so he was facing her. "Luckily, I don't have to be at the airport until noon, so I don't have to go to bed while the sun's out."
He blinked up at her for a moment, slightly thrown off by his new orientation. "Yeah, didn't you mention you had to be there at 3 am when you first arrived here?"
She nodded. "Yeah. It was terrible. Lucky for me everything seems to be working out this time!"
'Right, working out…' He forced a smile and rolled the chair closer to her. "And I'm happy for you. See? I told you everything would work out for you! And you didn't believe me." He shook his head and tsked. "Have more confidence in me, my friend!"
His friend? Was it his fault they were the way they are? A couple in every way but in name? His stomach churned. How many opportunities did he have to set things right? To demand for what he wanted? And yet—
"It's not that, silly." She grabbed his face in both her hands and leaned in close. "I trust you. I have confidence in you, I would bet my life on you." She closed the distance between them for the second time that morning. But this kiss was different. Soaked with false meaning. If she knew the way his heart screamed, would she touch him like this anyway? So deeply, and slowly. As if he was hers to play with?
But that was it, wasn't it? He was. He never told her otherwise. Never fought against it. He was a coward that hid behind false smiles, and fake laughter. A scoundrel that took what he could get. Desperate and starved. If she knew how much his tongue lied, would she hold him anyway? So gently, and softly. As if he was hers to keep?
She pulled away, taking with her a chunk of his heart and all the air in his chest.
"I just like when everything goes smoothly." She smiled and gave him another kiss, this one quick and simple. "I should probably let you get to it then huh? I can buy us something to drink at the beach later!" She grinned and spun around on her heel.
He watched her go, dumbfounded by the sudden loss of contact. 'Get to what?' he thought for a moment. Had he missed something— the food! Sighing, he stood and moved over to the kitchen, where she sat atop one of the counters.
"What are you doing up there?" He asked, raising a brow.
"I'm going to watch you!" She grinned again and handed him a pan.
He took it wordlessly and turned to the spice cabinet. There were so many things he could make, but deciding on that one thing felt like such a laborious task. Mainly because, this would most likely be the last meal he'd make for her. He reached into the cabinet and took down a few spices, but kept one of the small containers in his hand. 'I should send her with some of this. She sure does love it…' He glanced at his other cabinet— where he kept his tea. She loved tea too. He could—
"Claude?"
He jumped internally and glanced over to find her standing awfully close. "Hm?"
"Are you okay?" She mumbled, and carefully took the jar from his hand, setting it on the counter.
Don't leave…
"Huh? Yeah. Why?" He said casually, as if his world wasn't crumbling around him.
"Well, you look…troubled." She reached for his hand again but he stepped away before she could touch him. In an attempt to hide his recoil, he blindly reached into the cabinet again.
"I'm fine, my friend. Don't worry about me." He forced another smile.
She narrowed her eyes but thankfully dropped the issue.
A part of him, a feeble and pathetic part— wished she hadn't. Wished she pressed on. Maybe then he'd have the courage to tell her. And though he rehearsed it a million times, he didn't know where he would begin.
"Why don't you go over your checklist again? I'll let you know if I catch anything you missed and we can pick it up on our way back from the beach!" This time, the smile came easier. Like an actor after a warm up. He just needed to keep up the act until this time tomorrow.
Because then he wouldn't have to pretend anymore.
"Alright. Let's see…" She hummed a tune he often sang and climbed back on top of the counter.
He listened diligently as she listed off the things she was packing, things she would need, and things she was leaving behind. Throughout the whole ordeal, he kept hoping she'd make some sort of mention of him. After all, she was leaving him behind. His chest tightened. Did it make him any less than he already felt? Wanting acknowledgement? But of course, he deserved it. He didn't have the courage to say anything. Did it mean he respected her less for complying? For adhering to her wishes?
His heart ached at the thought. It had been her that had asked, her that had initiated each kiss— at least the ones on her lips. Those weren't rare, but each time a part of him broke. Because it reminded him of what he couldn't have. What she had made clear before she didn't want. Yet for some reason, she was fine with giving them out. Sometimes casually, and sometimes with enough fire to scorch his insides.
She was a monsoon of strength and courage, and he barely a drop of rain in comparison.
"Claude? Hellooo?" She tugged on his braid.
"Yes?" He handed her a dish, impressed with his ability to complete such a nice looking meal when his mind had been elsewhere.
"You weren't listening." She stuck her lip out in a pout.
"Of course I was, my friend." He served himself and joined her on the counter.
"What did I say I needed then?" Despite the obvious steam coming from the dish. She still shoveled spoonfuls in her mouth, wincing at the heat.
He reached over her and filled a glass of water, then handed it to her. "Patience. Or someone to feed you so you won't burn your insides."
"Very funny." She rolled her eyes and gulped down half of the glass. Surprisingly, she handed him her spoon and looked up at him expectantly.
With a smirk he scooped up some food and blew on it gently. "You said you still need to pick up some new hairbands, because and I quote:" He grinned and changed his voice into a terrible mock of her own. " My last one is breaking and I can't be on such a long flight without some new hair ties!"
"I don't sound that whiney!" She protested with a glare.
He smirked again and popped the spoon into her mouth. "Yes you do."
"No, you do!" She yelled, mouth still full. She finished and continued. "Especially when you're cold! Gosh, your car is always such a sauna! No air conditioning! Ever!"
He scoffed and held another spoonful by her mouth, to which she accepted without hesitation. "I always turn the air on for you!" He used the edge of the spoon to clean the corners of her mouth.
"Which is where the whining comes in." She declared smugly and opened her mouth again.
This time he put the spoon in his own mouth. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever." She was right…
But in his defense, being too warm was so much better than being too cold!
"Hey!" She laughed and snatched the spoon away. "You have your own plate." She resumed eating herself.
He shook his head and finished his food in silence. Briefly, he thought about riling her up again. Saying something stupid, or something funny. Anything just to keep his mind occupied. But he didn't want to get her too angry and cancel her wish to go out later.
So he settled on staying silent, whilst she hummed his favorite song.
She was tossing her bag in his car way before he even got his shoes on at the door.
"Come on slowpoke! It's well past noon already!" She yelled from the passenger side.
"I'm coming, I'm coming, sheesh." He grumbled and jogged over to the car, groaning when he buckled in to find the AC blasting.
She gave him a smug look. As if daring him to complain.
He didn't. He just stuck his tongue out at her and drove off to the boardwalk.
As it turned out, her idea of drinks ended up being a snow cone.
"Flavored ice? When you said drink, I was hoping for—I dunno— something I could drink ." He sighed and stepped away from the vendor to see if anything else caught his eye.
"Baby." She muttered and elbowed his side. "Do you want some milk too?" She snickered.
"Hmm, you know what? A milkshake sounds fantastic!" He nudged her towards a small shop. "A promise is a promise, my friend!"
"Fine." She laughed and tugged him by the arm. "But don't think you're going to stay outside while I order for you!"
"I wouldn't dream of it." Despite everything, her joy was infectious, and he couldn't help the smile that filled his face.
She ended up getting herself something too and dragged him outside by the arm. "Let's pick up my hair ties, then I want to go out by the water."
He followed close behind her, not at all surprised when they stopped at nearly every store along the way. Not to buy anything, but she was an avid window shopper. Besides, he didn't mind. Anything to drag out the day.
By the time she actually did manage to get her coveted hair ties, the sun was nearing the horizon and Claude felt nothing but dread when he realized as such.
"Where did the day go?" He mumbled with a sigh.
"Hm, to me it felt rather long." Balaiya said at his side and rushed ahead of him. "C'mon, I still want to hang out by the water." She beckoned him forward with a wave of her hand.
Like a magnet drawn to another, he was already in motion to follow. He could care less if it started raining! If she wanted to be outside, he'd be right there too— if she wished it.
He hung back behind her while she walked along the edge of the beach, every so often, a wave would rush up and slap their feet. Whenever a particularly larger tide would wash up to her knees she'd gasp in surprise, only to turn back to him with a wide grin.
Each time he offered her one in return, but the further the sun sank, the heavier he felt.
Occasionally she ran up to him and handed him some shells she picked up, just so he could look at them.
When the sky was awash with brilliant reds and golds she stopped her trek and set her things down in the sand.
"Remember when I first went to the beach?" She glanced over at him with a smile. "I got such a terrible burn."
He shook his head. "You looked like a lobster." Images of her reddened skin flashed through his memory, and the guilt came with it. "I felt so bad— I didn't even think about getting you sunscreen…"
"That was my fault. But! I've learned a lot since then." She held her arms out and turned to face him. "I've even managed to tan while living here!" She laughed slightly. "Wait till my brother sees me."
"Eh, you're still white." He grinned and dodged a blow aimed at his arm.
"Whatever!" She rolled her eyes and turned back to the water and frowned. "I forgot my swimsuit."
"Why didn't you mention it earlier? I could have gotten you another, or went back to get yours. Whichever."
She shrugged. "I just thought of it." Sighing she reached for the edges of her shirt and pulled it over her head.
"What are you doing?" Though he'd seen her undress too many times to count, something compelled him to look away. It couldn't be because he was a gentleman at heart, no he was far from that. If he were, he wouldn't have seen her undress in the first place. Could it be because they were in public?
"Getting undressed." She stated matter of factly. "I don't have a change of clothes." She turned to him as she pushed down her shorts. "Stop acting like you've never seen my boobs before!"
"I'm not!" He protested, cheeks burning. "I'm just—" He sighed and held his sweater out in front of her, to shield her from possible onlookers. "Balaiya! There's still people out!"
She laughed softly. And he couldn't help but peek back at her from over the rim of his sweater.
"They're so far away they look like dots, Claude." She smiled and motioned with her head to the waves behind her, the last rays of the sun framed her silhouette like a golden halo. "If you need me, I'll be over there." She winked and ran off into the waves.
"You're crazy!" He called after her. But he knew the truth— she was brave, brash, and blunt. But so incredible, intelligent, and independent.
"You can stay there if you want!" She yelled from the water, a grin visible on her face. "But if you want to join me, you have to drop 'em!"
His face grew hotter in embarrassment, he wasn't normally so self conscious. So why was he so bothered by it now?. "I'll just guard your stuff…" Sighing, he sat down by the haphazard pile that was her clothes.
"Baby!"
He rolled his eyes and placed his sweater on the sand then folded her clothes on top of it, placing her shirt and pants on top of her undergarments.
"Am not!"
She didn't respond, in fact when he looked over at the waves he couldn't see her. Panic shot into his stomach.
"Bala?" He jumped to his feet and hurried to the water's edge. Terrifying scenarios filled his head. Did she get caught by a wave current? Did a strong wave push her under?
A second later, her head popped out of the surface and she threw a ball of seaweed at him.
He sighed in relief, feeling more than a little stupid. "Ha, very funny." He grumbled and dodged her projectile.
"You're lucky it wasn't a rock! I'd have knocked you out!" She shouted, swimming closer.
"I still would have dodged it. Besides, I have a better aim than you, my friend."
She opened and closed her hand to mock him. "Yeah, yeah— Mr. I won a gold medal in the school's archery competition."
"It's a nice medal." He confirmed with a nod.
"Yeah, I've heard." She attempted a splash at him.
"I worked hard for it you know." He added proudly.
"I know. I'm proud of you." She managed to flick water in his face the second time.
They'd had this conversation before, each time she always managed to bring heat to his face when she praised him in some way. This time was no different, and he was grateful that the sunset altered the lighting around him.
He returned to her things and watched her in silence. Now and then she would do some crazy tricks and all he would see were her feet.
After dusk started to set in she moved closer to the shore to speak. "Claude, you know what would be great?"
"What?"
"If you joined me."
Why was he expecting something different? "What if someone steals your clothes?" He protested.
She raised an eyebrow. "Then I'd have to go back naked."
"That's what we're trying to avoid." He called back.
"You can just give me your shirt if that happens!"
He sighed. There was really no phasing her was there?
"I won't look." She offered after a long moment of just the gentle waves echoing in the space between them.
"Fine." He grumbled. He could never say no to her.
She grinned and turned around while he removed his clothes and joined her in the blasted water.
Why was he so reserved about the whole thing? He was usually the one encouraging her to let loose , yet here he was acting like a feeble lamb. He hated it. What had gotten into him?
Her voice came from behind him and he jumped back, startled. "Welcome to the party, my friend ." The last phrase rolled off her tongue like a purr, and sent a shiver crawling down his spine.
"What party? The one the fish are going to have when they grab at my bits?" He warily looked around the water, and though the night was well lit by the plethora of stars that flickered above them— it was still hard to see in the water.
She laughed and splashed him. "They're not going to bite you."
"You really don't know that." He countered.
She eyed him for a moment then moved closer to him. "I guess I don't." She said with a shrug.
"That's so reassuring." He mumbled and looked over her briefly.
Big mistake.
She looked ethereal in the bright light the moon cast on her. As if she were meant to bask in it's glow. He inhaled sharply when she reached for him, each drop off water that fell from her hand were like stones as they hit the surface. She tangled her fingers in his hair, and pulled him—almost shyly— towards her. So unlike how she usually moved.
"Are you alright?" He asked her quietly, afraid to disrupt whatever vulnerability he saw swirling in her eyes.
"Yeah…" She chewed her bottom lip and slipped her other hand in his hair. Her thumb pressed small circles into his head. "Claude?" Her voice came out in a waver that sparked worry in his chest.
"Yes?" He breathed out quietly.
There was a ringing in his ears, which only seemed to increase the longer she held him there. Why wasn't she continuing? What did she have to say? His heart was also threatening to leap out of his throat, and he feared with all the commotion going on within him he'd miss what she had to say.
After looking over him for probably the hundredth time since she said his name she finally spoke. "Can you…kiss me?"
Something in him was surely going to burst. Strangely enough, the first thing that came to mind was: why?
Why was she asking him?
Why now?
Why while he stood with his back curved painfully so he wouldn't stand too close.
Why while she held his face captive?
Did he really have a choice?
But that vulnerability in her face hadn't left. In fact it shone so much brighter now that he wasn't sure if he was just seeing his own emotions reflected back at him.
She loosened her grip on him and looked down. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't—"
He kissed her fiercely.
He'd never been so forward with her, But he kept his hands away from her, afraid of what he would do.
She only tightened her grip, gasping out a breath before diving in deeper, pulling him closer and parting her lips.
She tasted of salt and the smallest hint of strawberries. His hands itched to hold her, and his body burned for more.
He was almost relieved when she pulled away. Sudden enough for the sound to pass his ears. Like the snap of someone's fingers.
She licked her lips slowly, brows furrowed. "We should get back." She mumbled, avoiding eye contact and rushed for the shore
He probably would have stayed out there in the waves had she not dragged him behind her by the wrist.
The ringing in his ears continued even after they were dressed and clicking in the seatbelts of his car. Automatically, he drove with the AC on and the windows rolled down, the turns home happened almost on their own.
He's nearly deaf when they get back to their apartment and she doesn't say a word when she flys past him to jump in the shower.
He feels numb by the time he walks back in their room after his turn.
Their room? Was it really? It had been his at first. But for the past year, she would rest her head nowhere else. Nearly everything on top of his dresser had been hers. But now it was empty. Everything packed away and sealed tight. He was also ninety percent sure some of the shirts she threw in her suitcase had been his at one point.
She's still awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with the blanket draped over her head like a cloak when he walked in.
Claude wanted to tell her to go to sleep. She does need to be up tomorrow, and while she doesn't need to be there until noon—she should still be there early. Instead he sat beside her in silence, a thousand words whirling through his head. But that's all they are, words. What do they even mean? What are they supposed to mean? What does he want them to mean? He has an idea, but he's too afraid to try it. Too afraid to get hurt.
If his mentor from childhood could see him now, surely he'd laugh. Nader was a brave force of a man, always encouraged the best out of him. He helped kick him out of the terrible rebellious stage of his youth. Sometimes quite literally. If he could see him now, surely he'd scoff at his cowardice.
She turned to him, slow and deliberate. Much of her face was hidden in the darkness that surrounded them. The only thing he could really see is the glint of her eyes as they beautifully catch the moonlight from the window.
He has to strain to hear her.
"Thank you for taking me." She mumbled. "To the beach. I had fun."
His mouth moved, but he barely caught his own words. "I'm glad."
She scooched closer. "Are you okay?"
Of course not.
"Yeah. I'm just…tired." He said with a sigh.
"Me too."
After another moment she slipped under the covers. He stayed on top of them. His bed wasn't really big and if he did use the blankets too, he'd no doubt brush her arm with his in the small space.
Why didn't he just go to his couch? Yeah it'd be cramped but for the first time ever , he felt like he shouldn't be near her. He didn't know how long he stared at his empty ceiling, but he was really considering moving, he couldn't sleep anyway.
But like always she had other plans.
"Claude? Are you awake?"
She was whispering, so she really didn't know if he was awake or not, and he hadn't seen her move to actually check. He could pretend he was asleep.
"Yeah." He turned on his side to face her, thankfully his back was to the window so he'd be veiled in darkness.
Whatever light did reach them was drawn to her face. Her brows were furrowed but he couldn't make out too much besides the way her teeth worried her lip.
"Can you…kiss me? Please ?"
There it was again, but this time— perhaps for the first time, she sounded so scared. He was torn between ignoring her and complying. It wasn't too late. He reasoned, he could still play off being asleep. He could still pretend. He reasoned as he set his forearms down on either side of her head. Their noses nearly touching from the proximity.
"Why?"
He didn't realize he actually asked her until he saw her eyes widen. Heard the shake in her voice.
"I… don't know."
She didn't know? How could she not know? He wanted to be angry. Balaiya always knew what she wanted, didn't she? She would have it under any circumstances. Wouldn't she?
Despite everything, despite the voice telling him no. Despite the ache in his own chest. A smile snuck onto his face.
He'd be lying to himself if he didn't acknowledge how often she actually said that to him. How often he held her while she cried.
"That's okay, my friend. Whatever you need, you can always call me."
Slowly, he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned down. He pressed his lips softly into the column of her neck, a shiver passed through her so intensely he felt the goosebumps on her skin.
He trailed around her jawline slowly, then moved up and placed a single kiss to her cheeks then one on her forehead. Each featherlight.
Her lips were trembling when he brushed his own over hers. He carefully cupped her face in his hand and finally closed the gap between them.
This time was a stark contrast from the one on the beach. He held her face gently, as if she would shatter if he wasn't too careful. Delicately, because to him— no matter what— she was precious. And if she asked him, he'd cross an ocean for her.
After what felt like a lifetime and simultaneously too soon she had pulled away, but her eyes moved over to his bedside table.
He understood easily and was away for only a moment but he was pathetically eager to drown in her again. The moment she hooked her leg around him he was lost.
Deep in an undertow of heated desire and wanton sighs.
Every movement was different, every touch was both electric and shy. Filled with quiet whispers of is this okay? And a countless number of breathless mantras of please. So very different from their first time together and far too overwhelming.
So much about it was slow, so very slow— every intake of breath that dripped off her lips only drew him deeper into everything that was her.
Just so he wouldn't completely lose himself, he pulled back to take a breath. A single silken thread spooling from their lips caught the light and his eyes trailed up to her face, a part of him freezing when he noticed the glimmer by her eyes.
But she shook her head, a smile on her lips and she carded her fingers through his hair. She pulled him down and molded her lips back against his with a haunting whisper of : don't stop.
If he were a better man, he would have pulled away anyway. Perhaps even stopped all together. But if he were, he wouldn't be here in the first place.
He was addicted to the way she pulled him, as if she never wanted to let him go. Her grip tightening on him in every way possible.
There was so much he wanted to tell her, because finally he knew what the words were that he had been searching for.
He loved her.
He wasn't sure when it had started, it could have been all along, but he'd missed the opportunity to say anything.
After all, it'd be selfish of him to tell her now.
Selfish to tell her when she was leaving.
He was selfish either way. For taking so much and giving so little.
There were things that passed her lips in short gasps. Things in her mother tongue he couldn't quite recognize.
But the hushed tones of her voice beckoned him in further, and for a fleeting moment, he wondered if she lied as much as he did.
