Within Holy Walls

By Tenshi no Ai

(C) Square Enix

Ten: Alone (I Tingle)

-0-

"What is your name, child?"

"...R-Reis Dular."

"Where were you living?"

"...Bariaus Hill."

"With your family?"

"...Yes."

"Do you know what happened to them?"

"..."

"Priest Aurius, she doesn't seem to know what had transpired. A scout has been sent to Bariaus Hill, but the only remains are those of the Ordalian deserters. She was the only living human found there, and she seems rather...ah, traumatized. She won't speak unless asked, and is generally unresponsive to most outside stimuli."

"Do you think she understands what we're saying right now?"

"It is a mystery. Head Cataloguer Triffre wants to work with her. It seems that she rather likes looking at books, though it can't be proven that she can read. What do you think, Priest Onoti?"

"That's fine. Although it isn't possible to help every child with the war raging on, there is a possibility we can help her and give her a new life..."

I open my eyes, quickly closing them at the obscenely bright sun. Work...no, day off today. Good. Rolling over away from the window, I close my eyes again.

A new life...something happened to start that. But as much as I've been sifting through my memories as of late, I don't know...I can't remember. Even though I've been voluntarily drowning myself in them...

Pressing my hands against the bottom of my rib cage, I can feel the length of the scar through my thin nightgown. It doesn't hurt--it never hurts. It's the brand of my new life, laid out in such a way that I can never forget that I've forgotten.

Is what happened to my family really a forgotten event?

I can't...that's really horrible...what's wrong with me...always, with me...

Stop that. Stop.

I'll go see Beowulf. Yes. When I'm with him, everything's okay...

Usually.

-0-

It's easy enough to change into a long, peach-colored dress befitting of the early June climate, just as easy as it is to slip on my brown traveling boots and stroll out of my room, out of the church and over to the barracks. It's so easy to move and do the things I'm expected to do. Of course, it would be hard--impossible, most likely--to just stroll outside with my nightgown and bare feet, because that's not what I'm supposed to do.

Lately, I've been really thinking about that. What I'm expected to do, what I'm supposed to do...

But why?

Why am I the one doing these things? Why are we all doing these things? What brought us into this situation where we live each day in complacence, lazily drifting from bed to work to bed, with breaks in-between for sustaining our bodies and minds? And when I try to reach out and do something different, try to tap into my old life...

--Why didn't you first assume that I had made the sweets?--

It's been a little more than a week, but that still bothers me. I know that Beowulf's noticed that I haven't been myself, but he's waiting for me to say something first. But from his last answer...he wouldn't understand.

Maybe...maybe I expect too much from him.

Until that moment, it never really hit me that...that he isn't a mind reader. For all his admirable traits, he's still human. Within that kind smile and brandy gaze are things I can't even begin to imagine.

If he can't expect me to make him his favorite food, what else does he think I can't do?

I realize...I'm not being fair to him, but I'm still disappointed. It's been a while since I've felt like that. When I was alone, I didn't have to expect anything from anyone but myself...and I've never expected anything from myself.

I don't understand...why him? I wanted to stay beside him because I wanted to be like him, but...it's a bit beyond that now, isn't it?

I don't think I'm in the position to go any more beyond than this.

...Silly me, just staring at this door. Just beyond it is Beowulf...wonderful, kind Beowulf who eats with me and holds my hands and kisses me.

Beowulf, the man who has made me alive enough to open my memories to myself.

They tell me that I should be living a life that's not drifting, a life where I'm not alone, where I'm accepted for who I am and not what my job is.

I smile bitterly. It sounds like an unattainable fantasy, but once, so long ago...

Raising my right hand and forming it into a fist, I knock on the wooden door. "Come in!" Ah, that's Beowulf's voice for sure...I open the door and notice that, while it's only past eleven, there's no one else here. Seems like Beowulf is in his office, working as usual.

I guess we're all drifting.

It's a bit cleaner in here than usual, which doesn't mean anything except that there's less clothing on the floor but more on the beds. As long as I don't have to avoid clothing on the floor, it's good enough. I walk down the room, through the narrow corridor and into the small, sparse office. "Good morning, Beowulf." I try to sound as cheery as possible, even adding on a smile for effect. He looks up at me from his desk and smiles.

"Good morning to you too." He looks at me curiously. "You don't usually drop by unannounced like this. Is everything okay?"

No. Not really.

I lower my head, clinging onto my smile. "I felt an urge to visit you...am I disturbing you?"

"Of course not..." He seems to be considering something. "Well, truth be told, I was just thinking about you."

I wonder if he's been thinking the same thoughts that I have been...no. I can't imagine Beowulf going into self-pity as willingly as I do. I look at him, into that honest expression...no, it's not just an expression, it's who he is.

I struggle to keep smiling.

His red eyes seem to darken a bit. "Reis, you don't have to smile for my sake."

...Why is he so contradictory like this? One minute he's completely dense

--If you say so, but I'm sure it was hard to find a peddler selling Riovanes Sweets, no matter what you say--

and the next he's scarily observant

--But you seem guarded. Like you're not used to being around people for too long--

and it always puts me off-guard.

I drop my smile, and it's a relief to do so. "I am distracting you. I'm sorry. Please, just go back to your work. I...I just want to be around you for a while." He gives me an odd look. "Please."

The odd look flares into an intense gaze. "Reis, if there's something you want to talk about, I'm right here. I'll always be here for you." His eyes...I feel as if they're looking through me... "You're not alone."

What do you know?

'Always'. 'Not alone'.

Words don't mean anything unless you prove it. Otherwise, they're just self-serving drivel designed to make you feel like you're really doing something.

But words are just words.

"Don't worry about me, please. Just go back to work."

Just like those.

If I believe in your words and you believe in mine, then that's not communication so much as it is trading pleasantries.

Beowulf stares at me for a moment longer before sighing and going back to his papers. Not at all pleased with my 'victory', as it were, I let my gaze wander around the room, then his desk...oh, his stone. I pick up the deep blue, pitcher-shaped stone from atop a stack of papers, turning it over and over in my right hand. Beautiful and unbreakable...

"You can have that, if you like." I glance over at Beowulf, who seems back in good spirits. I can have this stone? But...

"Beowulf, didn't you say that this was your family heirloom?"

He looks at me blankly. "It's also my paperweight."

That still saddens me. I mean, any old rock can be made into a paperweight, but instead he chose something passed down through his family for who knows how many generations. "It's something too precious to be given to just anybody." And that's completely true because I'm just...

"Reis," he says firmly, "you're not 'just anybody' to me. You're important to me."

But all I do is follow your pace...

"Beowulf..." As much as I would like to keep the stone, it belongs to his family.

Family...is much more important than a friend...

"Reis." He smiles and my resolve weakens. "I know that you can treat it the way it deserves to be treated, that's why I'm entrusting it to you. Alright?"

He may have a point there. Fine, fine. I slip the stone into a side pocket, then I bow. "Thank you very much." I raise my head and I see an amused smile on his face. "Yes?"

"Well..." his smile widens, "has anyone ever told you that you're too polite sometimes?"

--Wasn't she creepy? All quiet and polite...oh, she's weird!--

I look straight at him. "Not to my face."

"Ah...well, I think that it's cute." He leans forward from his desk. "You're always so interesting. I'm never bored around you."

It's nice to know that I'm entertaining...I think. A small smile creeps onto my face. "...Likewise."

I...feel a bit better. Beowulf is good at that, most of the time.

--tmoptmoptmop--

Boots stomp on their way over here...one pair, so that's one person. I turn to the doorway as Chiroseau walks through. He looks pleasantly surprised to see me. "Good afternoon, Miss Reis."

Afternoon already? "Good afternoon, Sir Chiroseau." I notice the look he's giving to Beowulf. "Should I leave?"

"No," Beowulf says quickly, and Chiroseau stifles a cough that sounds suspiciously more like a chuckle. "Chiroseau, don't tell me I'm forgetting something again."

Chiroseau raises an eyebrow. "That depends. What do you think tomorrow is?"

Beowulf's face goes blank. "...Tuesday...?"

"Think a little harder than that, I know you can do it." Chiroseau smiles. "I understand that your mind has been clouded lately, considering your relationship with the lovely Miss Reis, but tomorrow's a bit more important right now."

Don't get me involved...I glance over at Beowulf, who looks confused...then his eyes light up. "Zaland, right?"

Zaland...as in, Zaland Fort City? What about it?

"Yes, Zaland. Which one of us is going tomorrow?"

Going...?

"I am, right? It's the ambassador's daughter that's arriving, so it's appropriate that I go." Beowulf doesn't sound too happy about that.

I don't feel happy about that, either.

Chiroseau shrugs. "That normally would be true, but on Wednesday..."

"I remember." Beowulf holds up his hand as if to stop Chiroseau's words. "I remember that. I don't care, though. I'll go to Zaland, you stay here. Understood?"

"...Understood." Chiroseau nods, then leaves. After giving me a glance, Beowulf stands up and walks over to me.

"I'm sorry." He smiles sheepishly at me. "If I had remembered, I would've told you sooner. You see, the ambassador of the Eastern Lands lives in Zaland and his daughter is coming over from their country to visit him. She's also performing at the annual ball that the nobles hold in this town."

Performing? Ball...? I...don't understand. "What's a ball?" I feel so stupid asking, just because it sounds so...ridiculous. I mean, a ball is something sphere-like that people throw, but now it has a different meaning...why? I can't stand homonyms.

"A ball is a...it's like a huge party. It's in late July. Supposedly the ambassador's daughter is an accomplished singer, and having her sing at the ball will tighten relations between the Church and the Eastern Lands. It's a good will sort of thing." He places his hands on my shoulders. "I'll be gone for about a week."

...And that's something that's easy to forget? I stare at him. "I see."

Lightly, he rests his forehead against mine and closes his eyes. He...he seems tired... "Reis, will you be okay by yourself?"

You don't have to say that like I'm helpless... "Don't worry about me, Beowulf. I'll be fine."

He makes a small noise from the back of his throat. "Reis..." he murmurs, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and holding me to him. He kisses my forehead. "I really...I wish I could take you with me."

Me too. "You could always bring me back something."

Like yourself.

"You wouldn't even take the paperweight at first, and now you're asking me to buy you something?" I can feel his bottom lip curve against my forehead. "Sure, I'll buy something nice for you."

I never said 'buy'... "It's okay, I don't really care."

"Don't worry about it." He places one of his hands on the back of my head, and I can feel his fingers running through my hair. That feels good... "But can you see me off tomorrow? I kind of need my cape back anyway."

You want me to watch you disappear...? "A-alright."

"I'll leave at noon then, so you can leave on your lunch break." He stops his hand's soothing movement suddenly. I stifle a sigh of disappointment. That felt nice...

"Thank you for your consideration."

I can hear his chuckle rumble deep in his chest as his hold tightens around me. While we've been dating for about a month now, we don't really hug all that much. We do kiss a lot, but I find that...that a hug is probably even more intimate than a kiss. Lips against lips is one thing, but holding my entire body against another's is...really special.

Being surrounded like this...I'll be even lonelier when he lets go.

This is bad...all I do is depend and want and need, and I'm not supposed to.

What am I supposed to do?

Beowulf holds onto me like this, and all I do is think that I shouldn't get used to this feeling. I'm not being fair to him. I'm never fair to him, I guess.

Slowly, so slowly, I raise my arms and wrap them around his waist, relaxing into his embrace. The material of his uniform is scratchy against my bare skin, but I don't mind. I hug him tightly, enjoying how he feels so utterly there. His lips curve even more on my forehead, and I smile.

What's harder: being let go of, or letting go?

My smile fades.

Do I really have to find out?

-0-

I struggle to concentrate as I wait for the noon bells to ring. Underneath my chair is a bag with Beowulf's cape. I would've liked to wash it, but I was afraid to ruin the material. Okay, concentrate on the text...

Intent is the most important thing in the world. Without intent, there would be no evil, there would be no good. There would be nothing, nothing but empty shells masquerading as humans, and within that nothingness lurks nothing.

...I would rather fidget. Oh, there's more.

...and within that nothingness lurks nothing, and in the end, evil will still reign. In nothing there is no evil, there is no good, but evil only requires a partial victory while good needs a complete victory. Such is the way of the world.

Is that so? If that's true, what's the point if evil's just that much greater? It's almost as if Ajora's trying to say that our efforts don't matter in the end. He writes like this a lot.

And here I thought that my opinion of Ajora couldn't be any lower...

--dingdingDONGding--

Finally! I reach underneath my chair and grab my bag, then I jog out of the library and to the church's entrance. I start sprinting down the streets towards the northern entrance into town.

Bariaus Hill looms just ahead of me.

I can see four yellow chocobos at the gate, and four men--two blond, two with dark hair--in complete Shrine Knight armor. Slowing down, I comb through my loose hair with my fingers and straighten out my dress. I hope I don't look dishelved...that wouldn't be a good way to look for a farewell...

I stop, the bag swishing back and forth in my left hand. Farewell, huh...

Oh, stop that. He'll be back in a week. A week isn't all that long.

Actually, it's a fourth of the time we've spent dating. An eighth of the time we've known each other.

...I certainly know how to cheer myself up.

One of the knights has noticed me and is approaching...oh, it's Beowulf. I really should pay more attention to details like hair color and the color of the cloth hanging down in front of the armor. I walk over to him, pulling out his cape from the bag. "I'm sorry if I'm late," I say when I reach him.

"You're not late at all." He takes the purple cape from me and starts putting it on. "Just when I thought I couldn't be any hotter. I hate this armor."

And I hate the book I have to translate. I guess every job has its bad parts. "Maybe you should leave at night?"

Yes, stay a little longer...

"Night through Bariaus Hill?" He finishes pinning his agrafe and stares at me with arched eyebrows. "I thought you wanted me to return alive?"

...Oh, right. I forgot that it was dangerous. I guess it didn't really seem that way so long ago... "That's true. Well..."

What do I say now?

"You know," he says conversationally, as if he weren't leaving, "I wanted to buy a mirror before I left."

...? "For what?"

He smiles, but it's not his usual smile. It...I feel depressed looking at it. "For you, so you'd know just how beautiful you look all the time. Not just to me, but...anyone who even glances at you would see that."

Is that really important? "I'd rather just hear it from you."

"Reis." He raises his right hand and touches my face softly. My eyelids try to drift downward, but the touch of the metal gauntlet is cold against my cheek. That bothers me. The first time he touched me was with this metal-covered hand, but...

It was the first time I had been touched in such a long time, back then...

Now, I can't help but be discriminatory about how I'm touched.

"Beowulf..." don't go, "be careful."

He looks at me, deep into my eyes, and I know he's not going to kiss me goodbye. Understandable, since his men are behind him, but... "I'll see you later, Reis. Take care of yourself."

I hold his gaze for as long as I can before I need to lower my head. It's an instinct to do so, practically. "You too, Beowulf."

His cold touch lingers a moment longer before he puts his hand down, turns, and walks away.

I don't raise my head until I hear the chocobos sprint out of town.

-0-

I'm late coming back to work, and it doesn't surprise me to see Verden sitting in his usual seat. He looks up at me worriedly. "Are you alright, Reis? I was starting to wonder where you had gone to."

I slide into my seat, placing the bag onto the table. It makes a loud thunk as I do so, and Verden gives it, then me, curious glances. "I'm sorry I was so late. I wanted to buy something for my room."

"Oh?" Verden looks even more curious now. "A decoration of some sort?"

Pulling down the sides of the bag, I reveal my purchase. "I've always liked to sew at night."

It cost a lot of money, but this nice lantern and flasks of oil will keep my room nice and cheery as I sew into the night.

It's so nice to not think sometimes.

-0-

"Reis--!"

I turn around from my door and see Peppermint approaching me. "Yes?"

She ruffles out her short hair, looking a bit depressed. "Did you hear?"

You? Perfectly. "Yes."

"Yeah...I mean, I was happy to hear that my darling was considered capable enough to head on over to Zaland and take care of the 'singing princess' as he called her, but I really wish he didn't have to go, you know?" She sighs, a wistful smile on her face.

...Oh, that's what she meant. "Your..." Ah, what was that word that she used... "Your boyfriend left too?"

She looks at me curiously. "Your friend went too, huh? Oh, what did he think of the Riovanes sweets?"

"He liked them a lot. Thank you for your help again." I bow, but Peppermint smiles and shakes her head.

"It's no problem. Really." She straightens out her robe. "Hey, since we're both single for the week, do you want to do something sometime? We rule-breakers and generally ostracized women have to stick together, right?"

That sounds like fun--I think--but... "No, thank you. I've been meaning to catch up on my sewing for a while now." I raise my bag up so that it's level with my head. "I've really neglected it lately."

"It's fine." She smiles. "I guess I'll plan out something to cook for when he returns. Well, the offer's still open, okay?" She waves and walks past me, opening the door to a room three doors down from my own. I like her, but I don't really see her around that much.

I enter my room, closing the door behind me. I sit down on the floor, back resting against the bed, and I pull out the lantern and a flask of oil from the bag. Hm...interesting. I unscrew the bottom of the lantern and pour half the flask into a special compartment, then I screw it back together. Now, if I turn this...a nice yellow flame bursts to life inside the glass. Ah, perfect.

I didn't buy any new cloth just yet, so I'll repair some of my clothes.

As long as I have a needle and thread, I don't need anything else.

I don't need anyone...

-0-

Uh...this doesn't feel like my bed...I'm upright. My face feels like it's being poked by a needle...

I raise my head from my knees, bleary-eyed and not at all awake. I look down into my lap, where there's a white shirt that I had been mending...why is there a spot of red on this...

Blood?

I bring my left hand up to my face, gently feeling around until my fingers brush against something that brings a twinge of pain to my face. Ah, that would explain that feeling. I pull out the needle, and my face thanks me by being even more in pain. Great...

The red of my blood draws my attention back to my shirt. Red...that's almost the shade of a red dragon's skin, which is just a bit more red than Beowulf's eyes...

Stop that.

I turn and inspect my lantern, which had burned out a long time ago. It works so well, I wish I had bought one earlier. Sewing is so much fun...I should've spent all my time on that from the very beginning...

It's a worthwhile thing to do.

Let's get ready for work...

-0-

--dingdingDONGding--

I stop writing and listen to the bells. Fourteen...it's only two in the afternoon? Time seems to go by a lot slower, especially since Verden was here at ten for a short while, then he excused himself. I've been alone ever since, and...it's really getting to me.

What's wrong with me? I used to not mind it at all. I used to welcome it...

I close my eyes.

That's a lie.

It would've been true, but I'm no longer as closed off as I used to think I was. I'm trying, really trying, but...

Do I want to go back to that sort of existence?

Making clothes but never wearing them. Always. Coldly polite to ward off other people. Alone.

Is that existing?

I open my eyes.

I don't know how else to exist when I'm alone. It may not be the best way, but for now it's alright.

But when Beowulf returns, what do I do then? What do I do the next time he has to leave? How can I flip between 'closed' and 'open', especially for the sake of one person?

I want to be 'open' all the time, but it hurts when I'm alone. He can't be with me all the time, after all. All my feelings are greater, like happiness, sadness...

But being 'closed' all the time...because of that, because of eight years of being closed off, I don't understand anything. My face hurts if I smile too much.

Either way...I don't like it.

"Um...hello?"

A boy's voice...? I turn to look at the door from my seat and I see a boy dressed as a knight would in a casual setting, a long-sleeved beige shirt and thigh-length boots with dark tights underneath. It's kind of hard to see his face, though, because the sunlight behind him is...kind of blinding. "Hello," I call out, "come in."

He looks down. "O-okay."

As the young boy pads through the library to my table, I can only focus on one thing, one amazingly singular thing that hits me deep in my stomach and just won't let go.

He looks exactly like my brothers...

Oh, God...what is this?

This boy finally stops next to my seat, a respectful distance away. His tousled brown hair--yes--slightly falls into his warm brown eyes--no--and while he's not anywhere near my height, it seems that he's been training with weapons for a while, judging by the way he carries himself. He's probably almost a teenager.

About the right age...

"Is there something I can do for you?" I smile, and he has the weirdest reaction. He blushes.

"N-no, I...I was just looking around and I kind of stumbled into here--I mean, this place." He looks away. "Sorry, this is my first time here i-in Lionel."

It's strange. He seems so nervous around me, but I... "Is that so? Where are you from?"

He looks at me, quickly becoming more at ease. "I'm from Bervenia, ma'am, but I normally stay in Murond."

In Murond...and I never saw him. How strange. "I'm from Murond...well, kind of. My birthplace is northern Lionel."

"You sound like you come from Murond, ma'am." He smiles and my smile widens because that's the first time in a while that I've heard something like that and it didn't sound like an insult. "What are you doing here...ah, I mean...sorry to be rude." He looks down.

He's as shy as Quain...how cute! "You weren't rude at all. I used to be a cataloguer, but now I'm translating a book of Saint Ajora's prophecies into modern Ivalician."

He looks at me with a wondrous expression shining from his face. "You must be really smart, ma'am."

--Big sister is so smart...--

"Would...would you like to learn ancient Ivalician?" I can't help it...I can't help myself.

I want him to stay around me.

Looking down, he fidgets slightly. "I...is that really alright? I'm not really smart, not next to my sister, and I won't be here for a long time, so..."

"Don't worry about it." I smile warmly at the boy and he seems to calm down. "I would be honored to teach someone like you."

He looks so happy. "Wow, really? I'd really like that, ma'am..."

Is he happy...because of me?

I hope so...

I nod, trying to hide my sudden giddy excitement. "Please, sit down next to me." He blushes and walks past me, taking the chair on my right. "And please, my name is Reis Dular. Please call me Reis."

The boy looks at the table, then straight at me. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Reis. I...I'm Izlude Tingel, son of Sir Vormav Tingel, the head of the Shrine Knights."

...His father certainly has a long title. A sudden mischevious spark flares up inside me. "Should I call you 'Sir Izlude', then?"

"I..." he seems to become sadder, and I feel horrible...did I say something wrong? "I'm not a knight yet..."

"But you will be someday, right?" I smile encouragingly at him, and he seems to brighten up somewhat. He nods.

"My dream is to become a great knight like my father." He looks at me and fidgets slightly. "Do you have a dream like that too, Miss Reis?"

My smile is frozen. "I'll tell you later. Here, I'm going to write out the alphabet in modern and ancient Ivalician. You can read modern, right?"

He looks slighted. "Of course, Miss Reis! I mean...sorry for yelling...I do know how to read."

I can't help it. I start to giggle. "Don't worry about me so much!" I grab my pen and a piece of paper from my notebook, then I methodically write out each letter of the alphabet down. Izlude is so attentive, and he looks like and even has the mannerisms of Quain, and...

Suddenly, I feel like the me I used to be.

This is my link! This is what will reconcile my past and present selves so I don't have to be so confused anymore! This is the way I should be feeling, not just drifting but actually alive.

Even if Izlude isn't really one of my brothers...it's okay to pretend, isn't it?

Just for a little while...

-End to Ten-

I'm in a really bad mood...ah, never mind. Okay, so here's darling little Izlude...oh, how I like him. He won't be staying around for too long, but think of it this way: he's exceedingly important to how Reis will evolve. Considering this chapter, she needs it badly.

Reviewers!

Rift, thank you for your comments! Beowulf's a great character, isn't he? You don't mind my version of him? It's also nice to know that people actually read the whole 'next chapter spoiler' thing, especially since I was really wondering about that. Yes, you're completely right about it being Izlude. A winner is you!

Star Eevee, you're back! While I must say that you were completely wrong about assuming that the subtitle didn't refer to Izlude, I will say that you were right about why it wasn't a complete pun, what with the 'l' and 'e' being switched and the pronunciation being different. So, you're not a winner, but you're still right.
After reading the rest of your review, I must say one thing: that was blush-worthy praise. I mean...man, I don't know how I'm going to live up to all that praise in the chapters ahead, but it definitely encourages me to try even harder than before--not like I wasn't trying hard before, but I digress. I can't wait to hear your opinions on the three longest chapters of this story, as well as this one and the ones ahead!

Mavina...do you read 8-Bit Theater? Just curious. But, I was really interested in the comment you made about 'if I were Reis, and Beowulf said that to me...'. Now, why? I mean, all things considered, he mistook who made the Riovanes Sweets out of good intentions. Reis had never told him that she could cook (and if she did, tell me so that I can change it), so how would he have known? It's kind of like expecting him to connect the dots without giving him dots to connect. As for Reis' past, SHE would like to know what happened...but the both of you aren't allowed to find out just yet. :P And, the Schwarzenegger doll...bwahaha! That's my new governor you're talking about!

Jaded Soul (should I include that 2? Gotta love new naming system...), thank you very much for your comments. If you find any glaring spelling or grammar errors (and I am very aware of the capitalization issues) please tell me. I'm a perfectionist when it comes to proofreading, but it's hard to catch everything. Like you, I don't normally read romance-centric stories for a multitude of reasons. The romance in this story is written so that I can actually read it later on, and I'm happy that you appreciate it. Please tell me if the quality ever drops, but I'll try my hardest to make sure that you'll never have to warn me.

If you have any comments or questions, please feel free to review or email me, whatever you like. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter...if not, tell me why not so I can improve! And thank you to all the readers who aren't planning to review, I'm happy enough that you've read this far!

Chapter 11: Galatea (sculpting with my memories): "With you here again, everything's okay...your big sister is always going to be with you from now on..."