"I Want to Matter"
The otherworlder marveled at the sight of her apartment once again. Back when Elise and Elizabeth both decided to get an apartment together it was clean, crisp and cozy. That particular memory was playing before her eyes as she watched her little sister cook breakfast. She couldn't hear a word she was singing, but she danced and swayed her hips. Sometimes she did a twirl, a bright smile on her face as her black ponytail flipped around. The smell of bacon wafted into Liz's nostrils, the faint sizzling popping from the pan on the stove.
Liz watched, a wistful smile on her face at the familiar sight. The morning sun shone in from the window, brightening the bare white apartment. There wasn't much in terms of furniture yet, but at that moment in time… all that mattered was that they had each other.
"Where are we?" Liz blinked at the new voice. She turned, seeing the odd blonde rogue from before.
"Cole?"
"Yes. Sorry." His brows furrowed, blue gaze trailing around at the odd new surroundings. Was this really Cole or was it just a spirit pretending to be Cole? Liz stared at him oddly, "I am me."
He kept staring at her, eyes darting around then hesitantly looking back at her. Almost like he wasn't sure and he felt out of place, unsure. Liz blinked, "Is something wrong?"
"The body feels right when you're here. You're taller, now. Proud. Familiar." He commented and she felt her brows raise into her hair. Of course. That explained why she wasn't much shorter than he, in the Fade. "But you're you, no matter where you are. Because it's what is here that matters."
At that, he pointed at her chest.
"I feel like … I should know you." Liz spoke hesitantly, "It's on the tip of my tongue. Have you ever felt that?"
"I used to, but not anymore. Things are different, now. I remember more. I am learning." Cole smiled, "Thank you."
"Why are you thanking me?"
"You're learning, too. But don't worry. Friends help friends, remember?" His smile brightened and she could feel it. The same feeling as-
As?
'Before he left, I felt him smile.'
How was it even possible? To feel someone smile? Can that even happen? An invisible thread, a ribbon. Something floating just out of her reach. It felt like the Fade.
Liz never thought to, not until then. Thought to grab it. Touch it. So she did. The mage reached out with her mind, like an invisible hand reaching out to grasp the thing always lingering nearby. Never gone. Never fading. The source of the foreign feelings. Feelings not her own.
Her heart raced, for the briefest of seconds she remembered. She remembered. Her eyes widened, pain flashed before her eyes. Filled her chest, before anger. She was angry. How dare he?! How dare—
Then, it was gone. The blonde man stepped away, looking at her with fear in his eyes. Fear and confusion. Why was he looking at her like that? Wasn't she just?
"Well, would you look at this." A familiar voice boomed, causing her memory to shudder and sway. The young mage looked around, feeling the whole apartment complex rumble. He was coming. "The maggot that took my prize. It will be two in one. I will show you what it means to defy me, filthy-"
Liz, in her fit of irritation, pushed against him with her mind. Her will. She'd practiced, like Solas taught her, and focused on keeping him away. And above all, don't listen to anything it had to say. She could hear an enraged growl before – she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling of her room.
The little mage sighed, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. How many days, now? That thing keeps coming back. It wouldn't stop.
And… what was she dreaming about again? Who? Or was it what? All Liz could grasp was the memory of a color. Or, rather, crystalline blue eyes. A piercing gaze, seeing right through her. 'Who? Who are you?'
It'd been a few days since they arrived in Skyhold, now. Liz was recovering quite nicely, in her opinion. She slipped out of the bed and grabbed a small book out from her nightstand, flipping it open. Her scribbles looked haphazard and choppy. Like a child's writing.
The symbols for Common were weird.
The young woman began to write with a piece of charcoal. A journal entry. Practice made perfect, afterall. She didn't want to risk anyone seeing the English language written in one of her journals, anyway.
Ever felt like you're missing something but don't know what? You'd walk into your bedroom or outside and completely space what it was you were supposed to do.
Every time I woke up, I felt that….
Last night I dreamt of home, again-
Cole
Cole found that he was avoiding the Inquisitor more often than not, as of late. The rogue was intimidated, to put it simply. The two weren't on the best of terms, ever since he'd found out about what he did to his sister. Or, rather, Liz.
Maxwell had been absolutely furious. He'd never seen him get so upset since he's joined the Inquisition. He was sure no one has. The young man was usually smiling and happy, hiding his insecurities with a soft unsuspecting blanket. Cole knew. Cassandra knew.
But he evidently drew the line at his family. If anyone messed with them, he turned into mother bear.
Varric had taken his side and tried to reason with the man, stating that perhaps it was for her own good. That Cole had never made anyone forget for any malicious reasons. 'How wrong he'd been about that...'
The rogue sat in the gardens, cross legged in the grass. It swayed underneath his fingertips, his mind lost in thought.
Solas had simply given Cole a piercing gaze. A knowing gaze. The rogue could feel it wafting off of him, his curiosity. His intrigue. That only seemed to grow as the days went on. Especially in the weeks it took them to get back to Skyhold. The apostate had bombarded him with questions, testing to see if he was still Despair. If he was still Compassion. Spirit. Demon? Human.
Even someone as ancient as Solas was confused by what had happened to the once-spirit. But, oddly enough, he didn't seem completely surprised. Almost as if he'd seen it coming. Almost as if he'd seen it before but couldn't for the life of him figure out how it was happening.
If anything, Cole could have sworn he felt almost frustrated. But beyond that, the rogue couldn't pick much off of him. He'd always been a hard nut to crack. His hurts too compact, hidden.
Cole sighed and ran his finger along the soft petal of the white flower in front of him, a searching look in his eyes. He couldn't just simply make people forget anymore. His abilities were slowly slipping away, like sand between his fingers. He could still hear people, but it felt like they were far away. His ability to connect with people was there, but certain aspects disappeared. It was almost like he could hear himself more. He remembered more. He saw more, from his own eyes. It was … hard to explain.
But it was utterly confusing. Difficult, mostly. New? Not entirely. Cole remembered his time in the White Spire, when he forgot what he was. He'd thought he needed to sleep. To eat. To have normal bodily functions. So he did. So those things weren't new.
But it was the things like the lethargy that followed if he didn't sleep and eat enough. The pains in his stomach when he didn't eat the right things. Or perhaps the time he'd thought that eating a raw egg was a good idea, which only resulted in him puking.
That? It was not pleasant.
Nor was muscle pains. He didn't know he could hurt in so many different places all at once. Was this what being human meant? So much pain? So much suffering?
No wonder humans were so ornery.
Cole grabbed a fistful of grass and bit the inside of his cheek, wincing at the pain. Irritability was also a thing he experienced. Especially now that he hadn't slept enough in the passed three days. His friend kept floating through his mind. She …
She was dreaming more about her sister, as of late. Cole didn't know how he knew that. Normally everything about her was so dimmed, dull—dragging underneath muddy water. But, ever since before Adamant… things changed.
"Hey, Kid? What're ya up to over there?" He heard the crunching of boots at his left. Cole rested his back against the tree behind him, feeling his hat tilt up as he looked up at the dwarf in question. Varric. He smiled down at the blonde human, "Was wondering if you wanted to join me for some dinner. It's on me!"
"Why?" It was a simple question. He was curious, but for some reason his voice came out harsher than he'd intended. Varric's brows rose.
"Jeez, here I thought Chuckles was joking but look at you… have you been sleeping at all?" The man bent over and examined the rogue's face, worry evident in his tone. "I mean, it's hard enough tryin' to get you to eat. But you need to sleep, Kid. It's important."
"I'm sorry, Varric." Cole muttered, standing up from his spot on the ground. Heedless to the grass sticking to his bottom, he picked at the front of his shirt nervously. He looked down at the dwarf, who waved to him to follow.
Soon enough, the duo began making their way through the main hall and to Varric's usual perch. His table was filled with books and writing utensils, along with unused journals and letters scattered about. The writer huffed and moved some of his belongings aside, motioning for Cole to sit.
"Don't mind the mess, been a little busy." Varric grunted and took a seat on the other side of the table, facing the scraggly blonde with concern. When the young man didn't answer, he spoke up. "Look, I don't know what happened between you and Sunny … but she wouldn't be happy to see you like this."
"But she is." Cole spoke solemnly, "Happy, I mean. She doesn't know, so she can't be sad to see me hurt – hollow. She doesn't know."
The torch behind the dwarf swayed from the soft breeze that flitted into the hall, casting dancing shadows against the aged stone.
"Why did you do it, anyway?" At Cole's scrunched brows, Varric elaborated. "Make her forget."
The young rogue felt his shoulders tense, eyes darting to the knotted wood that made up the table. His hands began tracing the patterns idly. His mind was awash with thoughts, feelings, regrets all his own. He was so caught up in them, he couldn't hear the hum of memories from the wood like he usually did.
"I was … she—" Cole stuttered, trying to grasp the words. He couldn't, so he fell into his usual lilting tone, letting them flow as he saw them. As he felt them, "Like lightning incarnate. Beautiful, quick—hot to the touch. Everything she does leaves a thundering roar in her wake. Other times. Like static. Humming. Vibrating within me, her skin against mine. She … makes me-" He stumbled, feeling his chipped fingernails dig into the old wood, "-she makes me want things. To feel, to touch, to know."
"I knew it." He chuckled and Cole's eyes snapped up to his, responding quick and hurried.
"But—I wanted to possess her, Varric. I wanted-" Alarm filled his voice, but he paused when he felt the dwarf's hands cover his own. Stopping his movements. Cole sat there, chest heaving.
"What you are feeling is normal, Kid. It's a part of being human. I don't think what you wanted was necessarily to possess her so much as it was to be with her." He explained with a knowing smirk. "Oh hey, look. Food's here."
And like that, a tray of meats and cheeses were placed before the two. The young woman left plates in front of them, as well as a basket of breads. With a bow, she skittered off. The assassin stared down at the items atop the table, brows scrunching ever so slightly.
"Have you found anything you like?" The dwarf questioned as he filled his plate, that ever present grin on his face.
"Most of it doesn't taste like anything." It was too bland. Cole paused and stuck his tongue out, "Bleh."
"Well, have you been adding salt?" Varric asked and he nodded, scratching his stubble in thought. "What about red peppers? Maybe you should spice things up."
It was as if the dwarf chuckled at some sort of inside joke, just then. Cole didn't get it.
Varric sighed and pulled a shaker from off to the side, setting it in front of the young rogue. He stared at him expectantly. Cole picked it up, "Red peppers?"
"Yeah, those are crushed red peppers. It's spicy so you should-" Cole turned it like one would the salt, but when he shook it the top fell off and the flakes fell all over his meal. "-be careful. Right. Well. That happened."
The once-spirit didn't miss the snicker coming from somewhere behind him. A snicker that sounded oddly like Sera. Cole stared down at his meal with a frown tugging at his lips. Liz always told him to never waste what nature gave them. He didn't intend on wasting this food. So he picked up the piece of meat between his fingertips and held it up to his mouth.
He didn't notice the mortified look on Varric's face as he tried to speak, "Wait, Kid-"
Cole took a big bite, feeling his eyes widen as the flavor exploded onto his taste buds. It was unlike anything he'd ever had before. Whereas everything else felt bland and tasteless, the spiciness that the red peppers brought seemed to make up for that.
The dwarf fumbled around and held out a tankard to Cole. But he was too lost in the taste to notice. He took another bite. And another. And another. Soon enough he was tearing ravenously into the meal before him, heedless to the looks of horror he was getting.
By the time his plate was nearly empty, Varric had set the tankard down in front of him. His friend hadn't even begun to eat, instead opting for watching the young man devour his food like he hadn't eaten in ages. And, technically, that was true. Ever since his change, he hadn't eaten much. Before then? Not at all, after he left the Spire.
But this? This was delicious. He understood now why people loved to eat.
"It's really good, Varric!" Cole spoke cheerfully, sending bits flying. "You should try it."
"Yeah… I think I'm good. Don't talk with your mouth full. It's not polite."
Cole swallowed, suddenly feeling shy. "Sorry."
"That there was August Ram. In all my years, I've never seen anyone spill half a canister of red peppers on their meal and say it was good." The dwarf chuckled, taking a small bite out of a dinner roll.
The two sat in amiable silence as they continued their meals. Varric asked Cole how he was doing and reminded him that if he ever needed anything, to just come to him. Varric was always good like that. Cole thought that he was a very good man and had a big heart. It was why he enjoyed his company, especially in times like this. When he wasn't sure how to feel or how to go about things.
The dwarf seemed to just have that way about him. Even Cole felt calmed by his presence.
It wasn't long until he made his way away from the table, leaving the older man to write his letters in peace. By that point it was well into the evening, the sun still making it's slow descent from the sky. The rogue stopped just outside of the Main Hall and took a deep breath. A few groups of people ambled by, paying him no mind. Aside from a select few that gave him odd looks. He couldn't hide anymore, unfortunately.
Making people forget his presence was something he would miss, that was for sure. Though his hat seemed to help keep his nerves in check. He felt hidden, face obscured from sight.
As he stood there at the top of the staircase, he felt irritation flare in his chest. Cole stopped and stared, confused. He'd been experiencing random bouts of irritation and anger that didn't feel like his own, almost as if transferred to him through an invisible thread of sorts. It was disconcerting.
He concentrated and it felt like… it was coming from up. 'Up there?'
He peered up at Vivienne's balcony.
"...don't like it." A voice slowly emerged onto the balcony above.
"Erin, my dear. You are nobility, surely you know you cannot be found flouncing around in those rags." It was Vivienne who walked out and stood next to his short friend, looking down at her. Her horned head garment glinted in the sunlight, plump lips set into a disapproving frown. "Our Dearest Ambassador even went out of her way to acquire your old wardrobe."
"And this… this thing was in there?" He could just hear the disgusted crinkle of her nose and Cole tilted his head curiously. He couldn't really see her from the angle he was at, causing a jolt of curiosity to pass through him.
"Indeed. The Inquisitor spoke highly of it, said it was your favorite."
"Yeah, when I was 10." Liz deflected and from where he was standing, he could feel her nervousness.
"It certainly does need some work." The First Enchanter conceded, her delicate hands pointing out some flaws on the garment. Liz turned and shook her head, leaning her elbows along the balcony. Cole's eyes widened, almost not recognizing her. "Come now, I don't have all day. Many of them are out of style, for sure. But it is considerably better than the rags you call clothes."
"They aren't rags, Vivienne—er—Madam de Fer?" The little mage stood up straight and looked over toward her as she spoke, "I find that they are rather practical. I doubt I'd ever have as much poise and elegance to allow me to walk around in an outfit like yours."
Liz almost appeared to be pouting as she stared over at the Orlesian mage. The horned woman let out a pleasant sounding chuckle, "With enough practice ... anyone could be proficient at it, Dear. Practice creates confidence. Confidence? It empowers you. Now stand tall, shoulders squared—yes, like that."
The conversation slowly filtered away as the two mages walked into the building and off the balcony.
He didn't remember how long he was standing right in the door to the main hall. Cole simply stood there, eyes distant as they drifted from the now empty balcony to the expanse of Skyhold as a whole.
He remembered how he used to skulk around, as Despair. Hurting people and liking it. Instead of pulling the knots apart gently, he yanked at them and broke them. Digging at their innermost insecurities and pulling out the despair and agony that lay beneath.
Cole remembered feeling it and it making him feel alive. The thought itself made him shiver. How… how could he do that? How could he hurt people like that and like it? That wasn't him. Right?
It hurt. Maker it hurt so much to think that he allowed himself to get like that. It hurt it hurt, why did it hurt so much? He had gone against everything he believed in. Everything he thought himself to be. Wanted.
The young man's gaze got blurry as he stood there, fists clenched. Angry. The door to the rotunda squeaked open and then shut. He wasn't sure how, but he knew it was his friend. Liz. For some reason, it was almost like he could always sense where she was. That little thread that he saw and felt that seemed to connect the two? More prominent now than ever.
He felt he didn't deserve it. That little connection they seemed to have with one another. He'd taken her memories away, a selfish action. He'd hurt her. He remembered her angered expression in her dream. He remembered.
He didn't deserve it.
So Cole tried to grab it. The thread. He felt around almost blindly. When he touched it, he could hear.
'What was I thinking? Letting my guard down around that woman? She-' Liz's thoughts jolted to a stop when Cole yanked at it, trying to cut the connection.
A scream. An agonized scream split through the air and caused the thoughts in his head to screech to a halt. Cole whirled around, seeing a small crowd of people forming in a circle. Nobles and servants alike, worried. Gossiping.
The once-spirit skittered his way back inside, feeling the heat of the hall embrace him as he stalked forward. The young man pushed his pain in the back of his mind, or tried to, in favor of seeing what was wrong. 'Liz Liz. Liz? What's wrong?'
Cole pushed passed a small outcropping of people and felt his chest give another squeeze at the sight. Liz was kneeling on the ground near the throne, a wild look in her eyes. Her hands were grasping at her chest, clawing.
Mother Giselle was in the front, kneeling next to the small mage with a concerned look on her features. Her red and white robes had gold trim, which seemed to shine against the daggers of light that pierced through the stained glass windows above.
"You fell over, young one. Do you need assistance getting to the infirmary?" The elderly woman asked in a kind tone.
"I'm … I'm fine…" Liz's voice came out weak, fingers splayed out like a fan against the cold stone floor. Her other hand still grasped her chest. Her emotions were like a turbulent storm, slowly building and whirling around inside of her. Confusion, the most prominent.
Mother Giselle's hand was extended, as if to try to help her up from the ground.
"Don't. Touch. Me." An even tone spoke in warning, lightning crackled up the mage's arms. Cole could feel her hurt, even from where he was standing. Hurt. Confusion. Why was she hurt? It didn't make sense.
The rogue slipped passed the small group of people and knelt down next to the small mage. She hissed, glaring at him with a look of absolute unfamiliarity. She didn't know him. Not like she used to.
And she never would.
The thought caused another jolt of misery to filter through the rogue. Which, to his complete and utter surprise, resounded through the young woman in front of him. Not as potent as his own, but pain did flicker through her eyes for the barest of seconds.
Coles hand clasped around her shoulder and without warning, electricity cracked around the two. It lit up the area in ominous hues of blue and purple. The people behind him gasped and scurried back.
"Get off!" Obviously it was meant to paralyze him or hurt him in some way. But it didn't. Her magical attack simply danced around the both of them harmlessly.
Coles eyes widened as he realized just why that was. He could feel it. There. Her own magic registered him as her, somehow. But why? Why did-
The young woman scrambled up and ran through the door to the Trevelyan's Quarters, the door slamming shut. It echoed through the quiet hall. Then came the whispers. Whispers of disbelief. Some of gossip. Some of worry. Most of all, of fear.
They all knew her to have lived alone, an apostate from the wilds. Her origin, afterall, had not been hidden. Some even theorized she was a Witch of the Wilds, due to her uncommon ability to shapeshift and her prickly demeanor toward other people. But no one acted upon their fear or mistrust of the young woman, due to her relation to the Inquisitor.
Seeing her like that, it … it made something inside of him ache. In his chest. Cole felt, he believed it was, longing. He longed for Liz to look at him like she once did. To remember. To see him and give him that smile of hers. To laugh and share stories about her world and as a result almost feel how the burden of the worlds seemed to lift off of her shoulders.
Cole hoped that one day Liz realized that it didn't matter where she was from that mattered. It was who she was. Inside. How she treated people. How she felt.
His eyes seemed to widen at that thought. If that were the case, didn't that mean it was the case for himself too? Why wouldn't it be? Cole was once a spirit—demon—something. He wasn't from here, either. Solas wasn't. But there they were, nestled within the Inquisition. A place to be. People to call home.
It wasn't just in his actions that he found purpose, he realized. It was also in the way he interacted with his friends, Varric and Solas. The closeness he felt with them and even… and even Liz, who didn't remember him. It was in the bonds he formed over the course of his time in the Inquisition.
And the memories….
Cole stared at the stone floor, brows scrunched underneath his mop of stringy hair. Memories. They also contributed to what made a person who they were. At one point in time, the rogue would have wanted to get rid of his memories. To wash clean. But that's not how things were supposed to be. This way he learned. This way he was.
And, for the first time in a long while, Cole regretted his decision.
He stood up and looked at the door, contemplating. Knowing now why Liz had been so furious with him in her dream, during that brief time she remembered. Knowing that what he did was wrong, not just because it went against her wishes. But also because that wasn't his choice to make.
Cole knew then, that he didn't just want her to remember. He needed her to remember. Not just for her, but for him. Because he wanted to matter.
'I want to matter.' With that thought in mind, the lanky rogue opened the door as slowly as possible to prevent noise. He scurried around the bend and opened the door to the Trevelyan Quarters. The light poured in through the massive windows above and he could hear his friend pacing in the main room above. Bare feet pattering back and forth. Back and forth.
"….was that?" Her voice was low, hard to hear as he slowly creeped up the staircase. "I thought I had a heart attack. But it's gone. Why is it gone?"
He peered over, underneath the stone railing, and blinked. She paused near the unlit fireplace with her back turned to him. Her little calloused hand was resting underneath her chin as she seemed to contemplate what had happened in the Main Hall.
The rogue could practically hear the confusion roiling off of her.
A long pause, "…. It's probably the stress…"
She seemed deep in thought, since she didn't even react to him as he rounded the top of the stairs and walked up to her. His feet barely made any noise. More so out of habit than anything, really.
"Liz-" His voice was cut off by a squeak as the mage whirled around, her dagger flying from a holster at her side. Cole flinched back, barely avoiding the slash as it glimmered in the sunlight. "A-Ah!"
The young woman froze just before she was about to go in for another jab, "Y-You!"
"S-Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you."
"I hadn't asked before, but how the Hell do you even know my name?"
"You told me." Well, it wasn't completely a lie.
She stared at him with narrowed brown eyes, dagger still within her grip. "What did you want? You could have knocked. But—" She ruffled her hair, an odd expression passing across her face, "—ergh! Look. I'm sorry about almost toasting you. I wasn't myself. Don't tell Max?"
Oh. She felt guilty. Cole smiled and nodded, hands coming up in a placating gesture. His shoulder were shrunken in, unintentionally making himself seem less threatening. The young woman slowly sheathed her dagger before crossing her arms.
"I-I." Cole's hands wanted to grip her shoulders and pull her closer, but he couldn't. He wouldn't. He was afraid of scaring her. So he settled with fidgeting instead, pulling at the frayed ends of his worn out long sleeve. "I needed to try something. I need you to..." 'I need you to remember. I want you to remember me!' But it wouldn't come out. Like it was stuck in his throat. Choking him.
His blue eyes averted, darting anywhere but hers. But not before he saw her brow raise in question.
"Look, man. I need to get back to the healing tents, my shift starts soon." Liz began to speak lightly, as if trying not to scare him. She must have caught onto his anxiety, "But I need to clean myself up, first. Do you mind?"
"N-No! But-" Cole clenched his fists, feeling his chipped fingernails dig into his flesh. He winced but it seemed to steel his resolve. "The mind forgets but the heart always remembers."
His mind reached out to that thread, the one that seemed to connect the two of them. He felt it, then. The confusion. The frustration, that she was feeling. She seemed to notice this, as well, and took a cautious step back.
"What are you doing to me?" Liz spoke in warning, fingers twitching near her dagger. Already itching to draw it against him. Again. Cole felt pain, just then. Yet again, it mirrored into her. "Y-You. This isn't me. It's you, isn't it? I've been-"
Her mouth moved, but the words wouldn't come out. But he knew. He knew.
Cole stepped forward, and though the mage's body twitched as if to move away. She didn't. If anything, she seemed to lean into his touch as his hand brushed the side of her face. His fingers slowly slid up to her forehead, pushing her ash brown locks out of the way.
"I want you to remember." He breathed, hoping that it would work. Even though his abilities were slowly waning. Bit by bit. Piece by piece.
But the rogue hoped, that with the connection. This thread, he could pull her back to him. It all happened so fast. His face screwed up into concentration, sweat beading the side of his face. Then, 'pop!'
A flash of white, then they gasped.
The duo recoiled from one another. For different reasons. Cole felt pain erupt in his temples, radiating into the back of his skull. It seemed to pulsate. His vision blurred and he sat there, hands on his knees as he tried to take in lungfuls of air.
Exhaustion, he recognized the feeling as. The same feeling he's been having. Slowly, it built up until he slept. But he slept, right? This. He felt like he hadn't slept in days. Once he regained his bearings, barely, he straightened up and let his gaze slide up to his friend.
Liz was sitting there, staring up at him with widened eyes. It was then that he could feel the pain, the betrayal she felt. Tears built up in her eyes and—
'Thwack!' She slapped the brim of his hat, sending it sliding down his face slightly.
"Ow!" He cried on instinct, even though it didn't really hurt. But it startled him.
"Why would you do that!?" She yelled, anger clear in her tone. "Why!? You promised!"
"You promised, too!" He shot back, feeling tears spring to his eyes for multiple reasons. He pushed his hat up as he spoke, staring down at his friend defiantly. Only to instantly regret it the moment it left his mouth. Liz flinched, as if slapped.
"I-I..." She stuttered and Cole's expression crumpled. She wanted to. She knew she needed to, but she couldn't.
"No… I'm sorry. No no. I didn't." He stumbled over his words, "That wasn't the right thing to say."
The woman lowered her head, brown bangs covering her eyes. She was trembling.
"Liz… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." Cole's voice wobbled, his hands coming up to hesitantly rest upon her shoulders. She began to shake even more. Due to their close proximity, he could feel the pain tearing at her heart. He pulled her into his arms, "Liz..."
"I'm so sorry, Cole." She whispered, face buried in his chest. "I couldn't do it."
'I was too weak.' He heard.
He still didn't know how to feel. Conflicted was the best way to explain it. On one hand, he felt happy that she cared so much about him. Overjoyed, even. But on another, he was so mad. So angry that she would allow him to hurt other people. Hurt her.
But right in that moment, the only thing he did know he felt. Relief. Happiness. She remembered him. He did it!
Cole squeezed her, fingers threading through her short chopped hair. And then, when she looked up at him. The sunlight spilled over hear tanned features, lighting her in a beautiful glow. He couldn't resist, his hand caressed the side of her face. Thumb moving gently across one of her scars.
Liz stared up at him, almost confused.
The rogues eyes flicked to her lips, remembering how it felt to kiss her. How soft they were. How it felt like his heart was soaring. How eagerly she'd kissed him back, letting him know that his feelings were reciprocated. He could still hear it, buried deep within. The tender affection she held for him.
It was right about then the rogue felt his exhaustion beginning to build up even more. It slammed into him like a flying boulder. The young man groaned and fell to his knees, his hands covering his face.
"C-Cole, are you alright!?" Liz sounded worried and he could feel her in front of him, holding him. Making sure he didn't fall and hurt himself. He smiled and laughed giddily, happy that she remembered him now. Happy that he made things right. He dropped his hands and stared up at his friend, who looked utterly confused.
Everything felt foggy.
"When was the last time you slept?" She asked and Cole felt his hearing slowly giving out. All he could do was give her a cheesy smile, enjoying how it felt to have her so close. Enjoying the way her cheeks reddened when he smiled at her.
"You're cute when you blush like that." He slurred. That was the last thing he remembered saying before he saw her eyes widen and he passed out.
x0x0
Note (I'll delete later) : I wanted to try to portray the confusion and inability to control his emotions in this chapter. How did I do? He's also starting to realize some things, which is a good thing.
Also, I apologize for the long wait. I had a really awful down spiral and I'm sure some of you know how that feels. It sapped any motivation I seemed to have. Everything seems to be alright, though. It always is. ^_^