Yesterday was the most fulfilling and frustrating day I've experienced in recent, or honestly, any level of memory. I feel as though I've had my heart wrenched and twisted into some sort of unfamiliar shape, while white-painted, manicured nails poked and prodded at the chambers and valves. I can't remember the last time I've actually cried, but I feel dangerously close to doing so just from an overload of stress and tension. Normally, I would record in detail everything that happened during day one of our ride toward Harold's Folly, but I'm not in the right headspace to pretend that any of it matters right now. All that's worth writing down, and all that I think I can write down, is about the events that occurred last night with Cinnamon Shoal.
It all began exactly as I had planned it. After spending the majority of the day speaking to the three other occupants of our transport RV, I took some time alone in the early evening to work up the resolve to confront Cin. It wasn't easy, and I almost backed out several times over, but in the end, I invited her outside to go and talk. She agreed, and actually looked quite happy to come with me. In any other situation, her immediate smile would have been comforting. In that one, it was just another gut punch to my resolve. I knew I was going to upset her, and I knew that the night might end with my departure. Regardless, I pressed on.
Finding a large, flat rock far enough away from the caravan to talk privately was easier than I had expected. We got to work making a fire in silence, and it was quite simple to get it lit. Afterward, I spread out a blanket and sat by our light source. Cin joined me immediately, and chose to lay with her head in my lap. The gesture was an unexpected, yet definitely welcome one. Of course, it did make it harder to start the conversation I had been dreading, but I knew that I couldn't let things go on any longer without some answers. It was at that moment, looking down into her fierce, orange eyes, that I decided to just lead with the matter at hand. I told her that I knew she was in the White Fang.
She simply said "Okay", and kept her expression and tone just as casual and composed as it had been up to that moment.
I had no idea what to say or do. I had gone over every scenario I could think of throughout the day in response to my accusation, but that one had eluded my imagination. I'm fairly certain that my mouth was agape as I tried to fish for anything else to say, but I lost the race to the next words. Cin told me that she thought I might know, based on the apparent change in my facial expressions and body language alone after she had gotten a call from her leader that night. She explained to me that part of her work was being an expert in reading people, and she noticed a definite change. Cin also said that so long as I kept the information from Sun, she was comfortable with me knowing the truth, and that Shiv, too, was a member of the organization.
Again, I was at a total loss. I still don't understand how she could be so casual about such a huge revelation. The White Fang is an extremist group known for violence, theft, sabotage, and destruction on a scale unlike any other organization in history. While I understand the sentiment behind it all, I just cannot fathom how someone could commit themselves to a cause with such a dark legacy and still be proud of it. With some of the things I've seen and done in the past, I don't understand how anyone can openly support the White Fang and still rationalize that they're doing the right thing. All of that is what I wish I could have said to her, then and there, but the thoughts just wouldn't manifest as words. Instead, all I managed to stammer out was the question of whether or not she had read this very journal.
Cin looked confused, and understandably so, by my total non sequitur. She sat up from her position half-draped over my leg, and braced an arm behind herself as she looked at me with what I can only describe as skepticism and concern. While she claimed to know of the existence of the book, on account of feeling it pressed against her bare back when we first shared a bedroll, Cin swore that she would never encroach upon my privacy. I was told that she cared far too much about me to do something like that, and she had no "business" reason to do it for the Fang.
Everything about her gentle, reassuring explanation, from her tone of voice to her features, made me want to believe her. It all seemed so convincing, and yet, I could feel cold beads of sweat on my forehead and neck from the pressure of the situation. I asked her how she knew I was from Harold's Folly. She told me that she had no idea, and chose a job at random from the available list. I asked her what she meant by saying that I "of all people" should know that telling those you care about the entire truth is sometimes impossible. She told me that using those same skills by which she had figured out that I knew about her involvement with the Fang, she knew that my feelings for her went far beyond being professional partners.
Yet again, I froze. If what she told me is true, it had all been coincidence and inference on her part. It also meant that I was the asshole in the situation, and it wouldn't be the first time. Such a notion isn't that farfetched, and just because Cin is a member of the White Fang, that doesn't preclude her from making friends or being honest with those she cares about on a personal level. It also doesn't mean that she's incapable of falling in love.
I don't know if Cin is a good person. I don't know if I can learn to simply accept that our views on what is and is not worth doing for faunus equality are wildly different. I don't know if she's been feeling all of the same things that I've been feeling as we've gotten to know each other over the past week. All I know for sure about the conversation we had is that when she leaned in to caress my cheek, told me that I need to learn to voice my thoughts more often, and pressed her lips to mine, I returned the kiss immediately.
Of all of the things that I've learned about myself on this personal journey across the Vacuan desert, I think the most surprising and useful thing is that I'm terrible at preparing for anything at all. For as many hours as I had agonized over how to approach Cin about her involvement in the Fang, none of it did any good. For the entire night I laid awake, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out how to make a good first impression with Shiv, he had turned out to be something completely unique and outside of those I would normally consider a friend. Then, none of the fantasies I'd indulged in had readied me at all for the soft, gentle, and heavenly sensation of Cin's lips against my own.
It was more than a physical touch- there was something deeply emotional, and dare I say spiritual about the experience. To say my expectations were exceeded would imply that I ever thought I would be in such a position at all, and that's a total lie. I had assumed that our "relationship", such that it is, would eventually crumble or violently explode in some sort of physical fight over her position as a member of the Fang. The reality of the situation is so far removed that it seems dreamlike in its simplicity and sensations, and I could not possibly ask for more. The quick, intense lip lock broke after what felt like an eternity, and after mere seconds of staring at each other, I was shoved to the ground and felt Cin's nails up under my shirt and against my bare chest.
Naturally, the very moment I was faced with a situation that nearly every other man in Vacuo and likely over half of the women would literally kill to be in, I found my voice once again. I blurted out that I had serious hang ups about any sort of physical or emotional romance, and I tended only to engage in a rare hook up while completely wasted. The sudden, inappropriate knowledge caused Cin to pause for all of a second, before offering me a wry smile and asking why that was as she raked her nails down my abs. I explained that I had been through several rough breakups, and that I once was told that I am absolutely horrible at sex, which has turned me off of the idea entirely and made me feel grossly inadequate. As I laid there with her straddling my waist, expecting condescending laughter, I instead received only a slight frown, and a dark finger upon my lips. Cin told me that she could teach me if and when we got that far, and that it sounded like the one who made such a statement was just trying to hurt me. She also told me that despite her flirtatious nature, she, too, had misgivings about sex, and that such a thing wasn't at all her intention then and there.
With no reasonable defense against her logic, I said the only other thing I could think of to stop her from whatever she was planning to do to me. I said outright that I couldn't allow whatever our relationship had become to move any further while she was still a member of the White Fang, and that I had principles which I was unwilling to compromise. Cin merely sighed in disappointment, and leaned over closer to my face. Our noses almost touched as she asked whether or not I would be interested in her beyond the bounds of friendship, if the White Fang wasn't a factor.
I was truthful about the matter, and she informed me that she felt the same way. She told me that she was lonely, often misunderstood, and didn't feel safe letting most people see anything beyond the frigid, businesslike mask that she projected while on the job. I told her that I was lonely, too, but that we shouldn't move forward. She asked if I would be willing to give her the opportunity to prove that the White Fang isn't all terrible, and that she isn't the type to take things to the absolute extreme that some others do. Immediately after that first question, Cin asked if I trusted her.
The speed with which I said "With my life" actually took me by surprise. With only a short lapse in words, I also told her that I would give her the chance she asked for. I don't know what drove me to do it, but the sensation of our lips being together again seemed somehow more powerful than it had already been the first time. Somewhere in the exchange, she managed to get my shirt up over my head, and cast it off the rock and into the sand below us. Despite the coldness of the surface of the blanket, the combination of her weight atop me and the sheer emotional connection between us kept me filled with warmth for what must have been the hour or more in which we simply…
"Connected" with each other? Obviously, I don't mean sex, but it wasn't just a long series of kisses, either. It was, but it wasn't. There was some sort of unspoken understanding. A loneliness with endless hunger and a passionate attempt to quell it from both sides. I could feel the desperation and need in her actions throughout the duration of our time together, and some of the looks she gave me said more than any of her words since we had met. After what felt like both an eternity and mere seconds, we ended up wrapped in the blanket with her back pressed to my chest as we simply watched the fire in silence.
I obviously don't remember when we fell asleep, but we stayed out there, and awoke to smoldering embers in a ring of rocks, the sun rising over the far-off dunes, and Shiv's voice as he stood over our makeshift sleeping bag. He scolded us for not returning to the RV, and tossed my sand-covered shirt atop my head as I groggily tried to process what was going on. Shiv warned that while Sun was still asleep, it likely wouldn't be long before he woke up and came looking for us, and that seeing us "entwined", as he called it, might not be good for the boy. Cin told him to calm down, and was the first to leave the confines of the blanket after turning to give me another kiss. Shiv looked away in annoyance, and made his way back toward the RV as we indulged in one more round of passion. Soon after, Cin was gone.
That was half an hour ago. I'm still in front of the remains of the campfire, scribbling away feverishly before the sweet memories of the sensations of last night leave me, and while I can still put my thoughts into words. I don't know how I'm going to handle any of this, or what it all means. I don't know what to do with all of these complex emotions, or how to accept Cin's affiliation alongside her affection. For that matter, I don't know if I can accept it at all, or if we're destined to divide over time because of it. I don't know why I accepted her so readily when I've been burned repeatedly and pushed others away in the past, what makes her different, or why I trust her. I just know that I need this, right now.
I need her, and I think she really does need me, too.
I don't know what the hell I'm doing.
Author's Note:
Shockingly, things didn't go nearly as badly as it likely seemed they would. What a twist! This may update again Thursday. We'll see what happens later in the week.
-RD