for one moment
A/N: Because there's not enough Howling Voice fics out there, and Clive's posse is just too cool to be ignored. A writing experiment in second person present tense, and a gift for Sophita. Enjoy, kiddies.
~*~
All three of you are sitting belly-up to the bar. Kelly's singing a ribald drinking song in a voice that's too slow and too loud because he's had far too much to drink already, Elza's snickering wryly at his antics, and you're as silent as always - if amused by the current proceedings. Your amusement fades when you realize that Kelly is bestowing compliments upon her in a slurred and flowery monologue. He's staring at her a little too intently, at her full mouth and deep blue eyes and the bared expanse of her throat like an ivory tower, and at the healthy curve of her pert breasts and the way they strain against the fabric of the blouse encasing them because she happens to be leaning against the backrest with her shoulders upright.
But you don't say anything. You settle for glowering at him and muttering about what a damn pervert he is because you know you're staring too. She's been a not-so-secret source of rivalry between you and the fellow gunner you call brother ever since the two of you were old enough to really start noticing girls.
She probably knows it, too. She always knows, somehow.
Then again, the three of you understand each other very well. You're siblings except when you're comrades, you're comrades except when you're friends, and you're friends except when you're almost-but-not-quite lovers.
And it's always been that way. You and Kelly were lifelines to each other since your earliest days and you were always brothers, even if not by blood. You were siblings when the interloper arrived: a terrified little girl with tangled ratted pale blonde hair and tearstained cheeks, filth-encrusted skin and the desolate, defeated eyes of an abandoned puppy. Then they cleaned her up since she'd just been bought off the auction block (even if you didn't know what that was when you were four) and you realized she was pretty. For a girl.
You became friends because Kelly talked to her first. Kelly was never shy even then. And you were his silent shadow and you worshipped him so you talked to her too, though you were more reluctant about it.
Funny that neither of you quite noticed just how talented she was. Mastered techniques in a matter of weeks that took most of the other trainees months longer. Maybe it was because you were all focused on surviving and it just didn't matter because it wasn't a priority. Maybe you didn't notice because you and Kelly were good like that too and somehow it seemed natural that she could keep up and then some. In some ways, a lot of ways, she was better than the two of you at certain things. Even if you did beat her out in others.
Somehow the three of you became a team instead of just fellow students. Real comrades. You didn't trust anyone but them, because you knew their words mattered and you knew they'd always help you in a fight and you knew that Elza or Kelly would always be there to hold back your hair while you dry-heaved blood into the dry dusty grounds of the courtyard, dabbing away cold sweat and rubbing your back and offering you a drink of water from their canteens after it was over. And that if it was one of them in that situation, you'd do the same. Like the mother that you and Kelly never had, and the mother she lost.
The waitress comes by with your meals. Kelly grins and rewards her prompt service with a friendly smack on the rump, always the good-natured prankster, the ladies' man and the slightly arrogant front-man of your strange little trio. If he were anyone else you'd expect an offended screech from the girl, to be followed with a sharp slap across the face. But she just giggles and casts him a flirtatious wink. You expected that. She's been flirting shamelessly with him since the three of you arrived, and he's been flirting just as shamelessly right back.
Elza just shakes her head at him and laughs. You do too, but it turns self-conscious when she looks at you and smiles because then it softens the contours of her face and she's the most beautiful and gentle loving girl on earth. You think this even knowing what she's capable of doing, knowing that she's a killing machine. But so are you, and only sometimes, so you don't mind.
You became almost-but-not-quite-lovers when you and Kelly started vying for her affections. You've had a crush on her since you were ten. Kelly came later than that, probably because he was busy with the other girls first. People like Kelly. The elders like Kelly. More to the point, girls like Kelly. He makes them laugh. He makes them feel special. He looks good and he has a brain and a personality to match. Women like that.
People don't like you as much. You're good looking too, but you're intense and solemn and you never laugh and it makes girls uneasy. You're the lone wolf among an entire Tower full of loners, and they know that, so they stay away. You don't care about them anyway, most of the time, so it doesn't bother you.
And besides, Elza doesn't stay away, because Elza knows who you truly are. That's why she's grinning at you now, a little foxily beneath a sultry hooded gaze.
You do wish, sometimes, that you could be forward like Kelly and tell her how you feel and not keep yourself at arm's length all the time. Sometimes it doesn't matter because sometimes you know that you'd only be telling her something she knows anyway.
She leans over and kisses you on the lips, very lightly. She tastes like ale and smells like raspberries and her mouth is cool and moist against yours. You blink at her and she winks at you a bit like the maid winked at Kelly, and she gestures at him. His tankard's empty and you realize only then just how long you've been phasing out.
"Last call, Clive," she says to you. "We'd better get this total moron home soon."
And as the bartender slides Kelly his fifth ale of the evening and Elza rolls her eyes at his drunken anecdotes and you eat your roast and tell Kelly that he's not going to be worth a damn for the test tomorrow morning, part of you knows why you're here at this moment in time. Tomorrow is the ultimate test of your abilities, the test that determines Knight Class gunners. Only one of you will probably live to take the title. Or, more ominously (and more likely), all three of you will be committed to earth, three fresh piles of dirt and rickety wooden crosses to add to an ever-growing graveyard.
You're here because life isn't a game and you know that. Because you should eat and drink and make merry just in case tomorrow you die (or don't). But most likely it's just because you're three dumb, naive kids who think life will always be like this: a series of drinking sessions in a series of loud and dimly lit Crystal Valley taverns. With Kelly laughing and hitting on barmaids and Elza giving you that speculative little smile and you loving them both - before, now, in the future, and even in the moments when they really, really get on your nerves.
Because in your relationship that's siblings and comrades and friends and almost-but-not-quite lovers, you're happy. Kelly is your brother, and you love him. Elza... Elza, you aren't sure about, since your love for her is a little different than Kelly-love. Even if you're unsure of yourself, you know that around them you don't have to say anything. Life is fleeting and it's harsh, but it's not terrible. You're surrounded by your two precious people.
And with them, you don't need words. You've said what you wanted to say so many times already.
~*~
a little bit more than I ever wanted...
a little bit more than you could ever say...
did you really think I'd forgotten...?