"Just forget about me, Celine. You'll be better off that way."
Bowman Jean shook as he brought himself to turn away from the rain soaked sorceress in his store. It was harder for him to say than it was for her to hear. He just wished that she knew that. She had come all the way from the continent of Cross, to this small university town in Lacour. To see him. Just a pharmacist. A married pharmacist, at that.
"Forget about you?" she asked breathlessly. "I can't just forget about you."
"Why not?" he brushed passed her to lock the door to the store. He turned the key in the lock and rested his head to the door. He didn't want to do what he had to do. There was no way getting around it. "I forgot about you."
"Bowman, I know you don't mean that."
"I mean it with every part of my being." He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't bring himself to face her.
She crossed the floor, her heels clicking on the tiles. He used to like the commanding sound of Celine's heels on tiles. Now he just tried to push it from his mind. Like he tried to push away everything about her. She grasped his shoulders, causing him to seize up in terror. He was afraid her touch would break his resolve. Her hands fell away, as much as it pained her.
"Tell me that and look into my eyes."
He turned, slowly. He knew that he couldn't. Instead, he cast his gaze on the floor, forced himself to speak. "I mean it."
Celine gripped at the collar of his white coat, trying desperately to stare into his eyes, though he did his best to avoid her. "Bowman … I came all this way. How can you be so callous?"
"Try not to let yourself become too saddened."
"Saddened?" she repeated heatedly. "How could you do this to me?" Her grip on his collar tightened.
"Celine, I-"
"Just don't. You want me to forget about you, I'm more than happy to oblige."
She pushed him aside and tried to open the door, forgetting that Bowman had locked it only seconds before. Upon remembering this, Celine's face flushed.
"Would you be so kind as to unlock the door?" she requested in a strained tone.
"Of course," he murmured, inserting the key again.
She watched the handle to the door for a while, knowing what it would mean if she walked out of it. Never to return to Linga again. To remain in Cross. Living and knowing she had lost the only sure thing she had. She drew in a short breath and carefully smoothed the front of the coat she had succeeded in wrinkling.
"This is … goodbye, then," she whispered. "If I don't see you again, I want you to know-"
But Bowman cut her off. He took her gloved hands, drawing her close to his body. He had to remember what it was like to kiss her. He'd allow himself to forget everything else. He wouldn't forget her kiss. He put his hands on her delicate waist, remembering what her soft skin felt like.
They broke away, until Celine was able to finally look up into Bowman's eyes. She continued to smooth out his coat as though nothing had happened. She understood she'd have to forget. But she'd allow herself to indulge. To remember one thing.
"Goodbye, then."
"Goodbye, Celine."
"Just forget about me, Bowman. You'll be better off that way."