By sophomoric genius
Sum: The best expression of love is time. Oneshot.
Disclaimer: Although the plot and characterizations are mine, Ragnarok and all other components of the game is copyright Gravity and Lee Myungjin. Any similarities with other fics are purely coincidental unless stated otherwise.
-o0o-
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
I could feel the inner mechanism of the small golden pocket watch quiver in an almost musical rhythm on the palm of my hand.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
The city never sleeps, they say. The moon is high in the heavens, yet the main avenues of Prontera City are still filled with people. Riotous and throbbing with life, as if it was day. But I could not hear them. I heard nothing but the cadenced ticking of the timepiece. His timepiece.
Tick.
Tock.
And the last words I ever told him. Screamed at him, rather.
'I hate you! I never want to see you again!'
I spat those at him in incense and disgust almost twelve years ago.
It was way past midnight too, and it was raining. His eyes were sad and pleading. His lips moved but no sound reached my ears. And even if I did hear him, I wouldn't have listened. I wouldn't have believed him. No amount of words could ever justify his actions.
I never did see him again. He left that same day. And with that girl in tow too, for sure.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
But he loved it here in Prontera. In this bustling metropolis where everybody is rushing about, living their lives in the fast lane, we'd sit in this small park bench and watch. We never ran out of things to see.
Tick.
Tock.
"You should go home. Get some rest."
The voice was familiar. It was of one of his oldest and dearest friends. Slowly, I lifted my lids. I could see my reflection on his chainmail. My deeply tanned skin was so insipid and sallow that I looked more like a malnourished beggar than a highly respected Lady Knight. My hollow dark brown eyes traveled up to meet his.
"It was his time. You couldn't have done anything about it." He was trying to console me but it only made me feel worse.
I could've been with him. Could've at least held his hand. Told him I love him.
"I hate him." I held his gaze, watching his reaction, my eyes completely devoid of emotion.
He simply shrugged. "Whatever happened is between the two of you. Let me walk you home. Your mother's getting worried."
"Did you know?"
"Yes." He sighed and looked up at the moon before continuing. "Everybody knew. She was only trying to help him. She was trying to cure him. That was all. He tried to tell you but you wouldn't listen."
"I can walk on my own. Go away." I shut my eyes tightly, my brows digging deep into my forehead.
I could feel his eyes on me for a few seconds before I heard the clinking of his armor as he walked away.
Tick.
Tock.
They say that time will dry the tears. But what if I never had any tears to begin with? Would that make it easier? Instead of drying the tears, could it make my heart lighter? Could time ever take the guilt away?
Tick.
Tock.
His friend was right. He did try to tell me. But I wouldn't listen. He followed me everywhere but I ignored him. He reached out to me but I pushed him away. I now know his side of the story. But it's too late. He's already dead. Buried six feet under the ground.
I never cried. Not once. Not even when I realized how incredibly stupid I was. All those years he loved me with every inch of his deteriorating body. And all those years I was so consumed with anger and hatred. When his death finally sunk in, the anger and hatred vanished, leaving in its place a huge, empty hole. One that could never be filled. Ever.
My fingers went around the small watch, gripping it tightly. I stood up and started walking towards the South Gate. I walked past people in the street, their faces nothing but a blur of colors. My eyes hurt and watered, but tears never fell. They never will.
Tick.
Tock.
I stepped out of the gates and felt the cool wind brush my cheeks. The field was deserted. I glanced at the sky and noticed the pinkish-purplish glow tinting the dark heavens, indicating the start of the daily ritualistic travel of the sun across the sky. How dare the sun rise in a time like this? Could it not respect my pain and stay hidden in the shadows along with my vulnerability? I'm not yet ready to face the day. I don't know how.
I lifted my hand and opened it, looking at the golden pocket watch for the first time since I heard the news. It was five thirty-three.
Tick.
Tock.
"I hate you."
Tick.
Tock.
In the dim light, I noticed a small inscription on the gold. I walked over to the nearby lamppost and squinted at it.
'The best expression of love is time.'
"Bullshit!"
I hurled the timepiece to the ground. The glass covering the clock's hands shattered.
"You are so full of bullshit! What do you know about love? You don't know shit about anything!"
I fell on my knees and struck the ground with my fists. "I hate you! I hate you for walking away that night! You never told me! Why didn't you tell me!"
Tick.
Tock.
I could still hear the small, golden hands move under the broken glass. I sat on the ground and hugged my knees, resting my head on top of them.
I hate you.
I hate you so much.
I hate you for having so much love.
Tick.
And not enough time.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
And I hate myself for hating you; when in truth, I love you.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
I love you, Daddy. I love you so much. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Daddy.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Finally, the tears came.
-o0o-
A/N: Advanced happy father's day! Suggestion: give your dad a hug. I so wish I could hug mine. Thanks for reading! Comments shall be greatly appreciated. Ja.
