Author's Note: Here it is - the third, and second-to-last, installment of Fairy Tale Ending. Another character pops up in this one – Leon. However, as a warning, I call him Squall in this. I like that name better, and therefore will use it when I cannot find a reason for Squall to have changed his name to Leon; which I couldn't here, so he's Squall. Also, please do not review this story asking me to update Face. I've gotten two such reviews within not even one month and it's really quite annoying. I will update when I can manage. I'd also like to mention that this switches from Riku's point of view to Sora's and then back again. I'll be sure to include some sort of divider to make that a little clearer. And with that I end my ranting and continue to the actual story.
Disclaimer: I lied. This isn't the story - it's the disclaimer. Anywho, I still don't own Kingdom Hearts.
Part Three: True Love Kiss
As I dreamt of warmth and smiling blue eyes, he slipped away like a princess at midnight. What he left behind is more fragile than a glass slipper, but with time it will fade and disappear. To tell the truth, I'd prefer the slipper – some way of getting back to him.
It's been almost six weeks since Sora left. We fell asleep in each other's arms, at the edge of a woods enchanted by memories. When I woke, he was gone. I still haven't gotten used to the utter silence of an empty house, and I've fallen into the habit of having the stereo or TV on at all times. I don't turn off the lights anymore. I can't stand the sound of him not being there, and, truth be told, I'm afraid of the dark now.
I still don't know where he is. I haven't spoken to him or even passed him on the street since that night.
I called his mother. She only said he wasn't there. She wouldn't tell me if "he's not here" meant at the moment or at all. I won't call again. That night was goodbye. I didn't know it at the time, but I do now. Sora is gone now, and he won't come back, no matter how much I need him to, no matter how many sleepless nights I spend thinking about him and convincing myself that those are not tears rolling down my cheeks.
Anya calls me sometimes.
"How are you?" she'll ask.
I never reply.
"Have you found the light?" she asked once.
"No, I've lost it," was my answer.
I've gone back to hating her. If some part of me wasn't still clinging to the hope that it will be Sora on the other end, I wouldn't answer the phone at all. On days when I don't have classes, I rarely even leave my bed.
It's pathetic, I know, but I can't help it. I can't remember a time when Sora wasn't there for me. When I was five and my mother died, he woke up his mother at three in the morning after I called him in tears, and he himself cried until his mother agreed to rush him to the hospital to see me. When I was six and my father started dating Anya, he was the one who walked a mile, at five years old, so I didn't have to meet her alone. And when I was sixteen and my father finally decided to marry the wretch, Sora was the one who, while on vacation, took a four-hour, long-distance phone call to listen to me rant about Anya and paid for it with his own money.
And now he was gone. Six weeks and not even so much as a glimpse of him walking down the street. Not a flash of cerulean eyes, not a stray lock of cinnamon hair. Nothing. Just me, and this dull ache in my chest that makes it hard to breathe, and my rumpled sheets, and growling stomach.
I glance down at my abdomen, placing a hand over it soothingly. I eat only when my stomach yells at me to, waiting until it churns almost painfully, gurgling annoyingly. Up until that point, I'm nowhere near hungry enough for food to actually appeal to me.
Throwing away my blankets, I sigh and fight against the comforting gravity of my bed. My entire body feels heavy, too heavy for the proud strut I used to move with. I could afford being arrogant back then, because I had Sora, and if Sora – kind, pure, adorable, loving, perfect Sora – kept me around, there must have been something good that he saw in me. And if he loved me, thought me worthy of his affections, there must have been something great.
But Sora left me. I no longer have the confidence I used to. I barely even brush my hair these days. If Sora knew that, he'd ask what I'd done with the real Riku. But he doesn't know, and he won't ever know, because Sora is gone.
I open the door to the fridge, peering inside to search for something somewhat appetizing. Even with my stomach growling like a hungry wolf, I still find food unappealing. It doesn't surprise me. Depression does that, and even when Sora was still with me, I only ate when he and his bottomless pit of a stomach reminded me that food was a good thing.
I laugh softly at the countless memories of Sora shoving food into that giant mouth of his that filter swiftly through my mind before the laugh fades and I stop the memories. I only laugh when I remember him now, and even then I can tell that it's hollow and maybe even a little forced.
The phone rings and I jump to answer it. I always do, because I refuse to give up hope and accept the fact that Sora won't call.
"Hello?" I say, voice cracking. I haven't spoken in a few days. I stopped answering with 'Sora?' a while ago. I can't stand saying his name anymore.
"You sound like shit."
I sigh at the sound of that voice. I haven't heard it in a while. I'm relieved, he is one of the few people who can comfort me now, but I am disappointed too. He is not Sora.
"I feel like shit," I reply in a crackling whisper. My throat feels raw and the tick of tongue against teeth is foreign to me now.
"I'd figured you would." It doesn't leak through into his voice like my emotions have been lately, but I can tell that Squall is worried. He doesn't like to show it, but he always worries about me.
"Yeah," I press up against the wall and slide down it, resting against the cool tile floor. My stomach growls impatiently and I place my hand on it, as if this action will quiet it.
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
I try to think of something, anything, but the silence from the other end and the silence surrounding me, creeping through the air and curling its vicious fingers about me, is distracting. It's cold, and even under this half-sleeping spell, I shiver.
"Just talk," I answer. Now I am glad for the unpracticed sound of my voice – it hides the fact that I am about to cry. "It's too quiet." My stomach rumbles again, as if to emphasize my statement.
"When was the last time you ate?" Squall asks, as if he'd heard my stomach's complaint, which really wouldn't surprise me. I try to think of the answer to that question, but I can't remember anything but the warmth of Sora, the tinkling sound of his bright laughter, and the happy shine of his eyes. He called mine fairy-tale eyes, but he had them too. I never told him, because those were his words for me, not the other way around. I never told him, and now I never will.
"That's what I thought," Squall says with a sigh. "I'm coming over."
My eyes widen slightly. I don't want Squall to come. "No! Don't worry about it." I don't want Squall to see me looking so pathetic – I'd like at least someone to retain that proud, meticulously groomed image of the person I was before this spell was placed on me.
"Whatever," Squall says before hanging up.
I hate when he says that. I really, really hate it. It's so vague and indifferent, so now I don't know whether or not he'll show up. I assume he won't, he doesn't like to bother people. If you tell him not to come make sure you don't die of starvation, he won't.
I have neither the energy nor the desire to move now, so I slump forward to lie on the kitchen floor, pressing my cheek against the tile. I cant ell that I look like some junkie just off his high, and that's what I feel like. The best thing in my life has been taken away from me, and all I can do is sit around, staring off into space and wishing I could have him back, waiting for the kiss that will break the spell.
The doorbell rings and I curse under my breath. I guess I was wrong to assume that Squall would leave me alone. I sigh and pull myself to my feet. My head spins a little – I must have gotten up too quickly. I reach a hand out to grab at the wall and steady myself before I trudge to the door and pull it open.
Squall towers over me, a bit of a feat since I'm somewhat tall myself, and peers at me with storm-cloud eyes. I look up at him, suddenly aware that my hair is tangled and my pajama pants are wrinkled and I'm lacking a shirt. I can't think of anything to say. 'Hey' is too casual; my voice isn't ready for casual yet. 'Come in' would imply that I want him to do just that, and I don't. Before I can speak, Squall pushes the door open further and steps inside.
"You look awful," he observes worriedly. I think he may know my grooming habits better than even Sora.
"Like I said, I feel awful."
"You sound even worse in person."
Hanging my head, I shut the door. "I haven't spoken in a while," I admit, chewing on my lower lip.
Squall raises an eyebrow at me before walking by into the kitchen. "Go get cleaned up and I'll throw something together for you," he says as he passes me, placing a hand on the top of my head briefly. It's the first time I've been touched since Sora left me, and it sends shivers down my spine as the warmth of it lingers.
I pad slowly down the hall, more awake now than I have been in the past six weeks, but still trapped, still waiting for my kiss. I can't focus my thoughts on anything except the fact that I feel absolutely disgusting with my tangled hair, and my wrinkled, dirty pajamas and my lack of shirt – which I hadn't noticed until a few minutes ago.
Entering the bathroom, I push my hand past the shower curtain and turn on the water, as hot as it can go. I strip quickly and hop into the shower. I've felt so cold ever since Sora left. The water streams over me and immediately I can see how dirty I was. I waste no time in grabbing the soap and scrubbing furiously, though I'm not sure if I'm trying to wash away the grime or something else.
I just don't want to sleep anymore. I want my prince charming to come, I want that true love kiss, I want the happily ever after. But my prince charming rode off into the sunset without me, so there will be no true love kiss, and there will be no happy ending. Sora is my happily ever after, and Sora is gone.
Sora is gone. Sora is gone. Sora is gone. . .
And so am I.
My knees feel weak, and I crumple, sitting in the centimeter of water that has gathered in the tub. The water is slowly losing heat as I sit here, hair plastered to my face, almost crying. Almost crying, but not quite. I actually haven't cried in a while, but I've come awfully close quite often.
I breathe in deeply a few times, collecting myself, before reaching up to turn off the now cold water. Closing my eyes, I suck in one last breath and stand slowly to stumble out of the shower. Cold air hits my damp body harshly and I shiver and hurriedly wrap a towel around myself, rushing to my room and dressing rapidly. For now, I take care in what I wear, because I feel like I should make up for my haggard appearance earlier. Oddly enough, Squall has always had that effect on me. I'm not sure why, but his cold demeanor and stormy gaze make me want to try and elicit some sort of reaction from him.
I concentrate on the dull thud of my footsteps as I move tot eh kitchen where Squall looks up from a cup of coffee to raise an eyebrow at me.
"There's absolutely nothing to eat in this place," he grumbles.
"Yeah," I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck and glancing down, "Sora usually does the shopping," I whisper.
Squall is silent and I hate that I said 'Sora does' rather than 'Sora did'.
"Let's go."
"Huh?" I mumble.
"There's no food here and you have to eat. We're going out," Squall says gruffly, pushing me gently towards the door. His touch is searing and I cringe, but I can't help but notice that I like being touched again, and am disappointed when Squall moves his hand away.
I haven't been in this area for six weeks. I've kind of been avoiding it since I left Riku. I don't want to run into him. I'm confused and I just need some time away from him to sort things out. Sometimes I think I'm close, and things don't look so good for Riku then, but then I'll think about him and it'll start all over again.
Most times I decide that I'm just used to having him around and I need time to adjust to his absence. There's still doubt though, and I refuse to stop thinking about it until I reach a solid confusion.
Everything here looks only semi-familiar, only half real. Actually, that's how everything, everywhere has seemed for the past six weeks. It's all so different and I know it's all because of Riku. I'd been with him my entire life after all; things were bound to be weird after such a drastic change. You don't just continue life as it was after leaving your best friend since you can remember, and the only person you've ever loved – that's not how it works. Plus, there's the fact that I may still love him.
Well, I do love him, but not in the same way as I once did. Or maybe it is in the same way.
Or maybe it isn't.
I sigh heavily, head drooping forward to stare at my feet as if they were suddenly actually worth looking at. I watch attentively as they smack heavily against the sidewalk. I feel so lost. I just want to figure everything out and get this all over with. If it turns out I do still love Riku, which it very well might, then it's best for us both if I figure this out quickly.
But if I do still love him, will I go back to him? Do I have the right to go back and apologize and ask him to keep loving me? If I do ask, who's to say he will? Who's to say he won't just decide to never forgive me and turn me away?
The door to the restaurant just ahead opens, bells bouncing and jingling happily. Glancing up I catch a glimmer of silver hair. My heart leaps and twists. My stomach churns and my breath falters as a pang of longing shudders through my frame. And before I can stop myself, I call out.
"Riku?" I say, swallowing hard and blushing. My heart is racing. So now I know. Now I know that I was stupid and yes, I do still love Riku.
I love him and there is no doubt about that anymore.
He stops, and I notice that he is not alone. Turning slowly, he furrows his brows. He's pale, paler than he was before, and he looks sick, but somehow he looks more beautiful now than he ever has before.
"Sora?" he asks. His voice is void of emotion and his eyes are too. This is really disarming. I've always been able to read his emotions because of his fairy tale eyes, but now those eyes are gone, and I hope that fairy tale eyes and fairy tale endings don't go hand in hand.
Riku turns to his companion, a tall brunette male, and looks up at him, whispering something. After a moment they both turn and I recognize the brunette. It's Squall, and now I'm terrified. I'd always felt threatened by him. He's gorgeous, and he and Riku were really close, and maybe it was just me being paranoid, but I always thought that Squall had a thing for Riku.
And now they were walking out of a restaurant together and Riku was standing too close to Squall for my liking.
"Hey," I say meekly as they walk towards me.
"Hey," he replies, and Squall nods his head in my direction as greeting.
We stand in silence now as I search Riku's eyes for some sort of reaction.
"How have you been?" I ask.
"Good," Riku replies, glancing pointedly at Squall. I can't read his eyes and so I can't tell if the glance was identifying Squall as his new lover or if it had a completely different meaning.
"You?" he continues.
"Okay," I say. "I. . .uh. . .I should go now." I murmur after another moment of awkward silence. If Riku is with Squall now, which it certainly looks like, I don't want to be here anymore. "It was good to see you again," I whisper, refusing to look him in the eye.
"Yeah. Yeah, same here," he says, moving closer to Squall. I can almost swear his voice cracked, but I'm not sure. Aside from this possible crack, his statement had seemed cold and insincere.
I look up at him, attempting to convey my feelings to him. He needs to know that I do still love him, even if he is with Squall now. But my mouth isn't working, and Riku won't see what I want him to see, because he's walking away.
So I turn and try to keep from sobbing, and I walk away too.
I hate silence more now than I ever have before. It seems to be screaming out at me, mocking me with how un-Sora it is. I'd thought that seeing him again would help, but it's just made things so much worse. And now I'm pacing the living room, trying to ignore the space on the couch where this all began. I wring my hands and pace, pulling in short, uneven breaths. I suddenly feel dizzy, so I sit on the couch, trying to regulate my breathing. Slumping forward I rest my head on my knees and sigh. Tears are welling up, and I blink frantically to keep from crying.
Sora. I'd finally seen him again. I'd almost bolted when I heard him call my name, but instead I froze. I even had to ask Squall what to do. He'd told me to talk to Sora, so I did. But I'd been terrified so I'd stood too close to the warmth and comforting strength of Squall. I know what it looked like – walking out of a restaurant with him, standing too close to him, like a child hiding behind his mother's skirts. To Sora it had seemed like Squall and I were together. How could it not have?
Sora thought I was dating Squall.
All hope is gone now. If Sora did still love me he wouldn't come back to me after seeing me with someone else.
When you lose hope it's hard to hold back tears.
Squall walks into the room with a cup of tea he'd made me. I wipe quickly at my eyes as he sits next to me silently.
I hate silence, though right now it's because I know Squall can hear me sniffling. I never even cried in front of Sora, except for when my mother died, and again that day six weeks ago, here on this couch. But that time doesn't count – Sora doesn't know I was crying then.
And he never will. He'll never know just how much he hurt me, just how much I miss him, how much I need him to come back to me. He thinks I've moved on, when the truth is I won't, not for a long time.
I try to stifle a sob, but only half succeed, and I know that Squall has definitely heard me.
"Are you crying?" he asks, sounding almost surprised.
I don't care anymore.
"Yes," I whisper, wiping my tears away. Squall is silent as I sob, and he reaches over and pulls me towards him. I clutch the fabric of his shirt in my hands and bury my face in the crook of his neck as he wraps his arms around me. Squall is warm and strong, and I can't help but be comforted by this.
He shushes me softly, stroking my hair and occasionally whispering soft comforts. My shoulders are shaking, but only slightly, and I have a feeling that I'd be trembling much more if he weren't holding me so tightly.
My tears have run dry but I find myself unable to pull away from Squall. He's so warm, and I've been so cold ever since Sora left. So cold, and I've finally found some sort of warmth. I look up at him and smile a small smile.
"Thanks," I whisper.
Squall meets my gaze and for some reason I tighten my grip on his shirt. He cups my chin and tilts my face towards his.
And then he kisses me. Or maybe I kissed him. I don't know, I can't tell which it was, but his lips are soft and warm, and I'm suddenly filled with energy after weeks of sleeping. Squall runs his tongue along my lower lip and I part my lips willingly, though part of me doesn't want this to happen. The rest of me could really care less right now. Squall is warm and I need warmth – I need so much warmth right now.
And I like this. I like how it feels to be held, not holding, to be kissed, not kissing. I'm surrounded by warmth and I love it.
Squall pushes me back onto the couch and I cling to him, unwilling to let this new sensation slip away. The kiss was not the true love kiss I've been searching for, but it woke me up anyway. And Squall is not my prince charming, but that really doesn't matter anymore.