Gilbert's side of the story. Warning for hopeless, unrequited love on his part, and not so much from Elizabeta.


Heart throbbing in his ears, Gilbert toed the edge of the cliff. Nine years. It had been nine years since he'd seen her last, practically a lifetime. Taking a deep breath, he threw himself over the edge. He rang the doorbell. One long heartbeat later, he rang it again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming."

The muffled voice was familiar and sent shivers rattling down his spine and into his toes. Gilbert just had enough time to fix a smirk onto his lips before the door was yanked open by a vaguely irritated-looking young woman.

"Liz."

Elizabeta's bright, green eyes widened dramatically as they locked with his. Her plump lips gaping before joining into a sort of disbelieving smile. "Gilbert."

Hesitating only momentarily, he offered himself to her, arms wide. "You gonna greet your most awesome friend?"

When she stepped into the embrace, Gilbert felt himself exhale in relief. He held her tightly, feeling as though nothing had changed, no time had passed. Burying his nose in her sweet-smelling locks, he discovered that she still used the same shampoo – she still smelled of artificial coconut. He chuckled.

"You know, you used to be taller than me."

Elizabeta looked up at him in surprise. Scarlet eyes traced a snub nose that freckled in the sun, a pair of round, liquid eyes positioned beneath slender, arching brows. He wondered if she'd always been this beautiful, or if he'd simply forgotten.

Adopting tone dripping with mock injury, he continued. "Kept telling me that my 'big head' was too heavy for my body to grow right."

She ducked her head, trying to hide a grin that Gilbert could feel. With one final squeeze, he released her and stretched his arms back nervously.

There were so many things he wanted to ask her, the possibilities buzzed endlessly through his head. Finally, he simply asked, "So, how've you been?"

"Not bad." She paused, fiddling with her hair just as she had as a child. "I'm married now."

As though on cue, her ring winked up at him, serving as hard evidence of her statement. Gilbert felt as though he'd been shot in the chest, lungs seizing up as his life's blood pooled around his feet. Summoning up his pride, he forced his curiously numb lips into a pout.

"You didn't invite me?" He only half teased as the words squeezed from his throat. The sparkle in his eye had fled, but Elizabeta didn't seem to notice as she smiled at him.

"I'm sorry, Gilbert. I would've, but I lost track-"

He punched her playfully in the shoulder, silently begging her to stop talking. "Don't worry about it. I probably wouldn't've made it anyway."

"Oh?" For a split second, Gilbert could almost pretend to see the hurt in her expression. "And what's so important that you would miss your best friend's wedding?"

He wanted to lie, to say that he, too, had gotten married, and that his beautiful, trophy wife was so much better than some violent tomboy with a thing for gay porn. He wanted to tell her that he'd been with dozens of women over the years, and he'd forgotten about her until just recently. He wanted to tell her that she hadn't been on his mind everyday for the last eight years and God knows how many months. But somewhere deep within the wreckage of his heart, he knew that he wanted to tell her the truth.

"The service." He said finally, his pocketed hands searching for something he knew didn't exist, burrowing restlessly into his jeans. "I went to a military school and got shipped out to a base in Germany for four years. Just got done last year."

"In that case, welcome back." Elizabeta shivered suddenly, drawing her slender arms into her chest. After a moment of thought, she asked, "Hey, you wanna come in?"

Yes, the voice in the back of his head was screaming over and over even as he shook his head no. Taking a step backwards, he shrugged. "Nah, I was just in the area and thought I'd look you up."

For a moment, her gaze pleaded with him. "No, Gilbert, it's fine. I'll make some coffee and we can catch up-"

"I've got a train to catch." The words fell heavily from his lips as he made a show of checking his watch. "I got a job offer from the middle of nowhere I've gotta respond to."

Her smile was the one she gave when she was happy for others, but not for herself. It was the one she'd worn when her mother remarried, the one she'd worn when Gilbert began to spend more time with his guy friends, the one she'd worn on graduation day the last time he'd seen her. The one that had broken his heart. "Good luck, then. I hope it turns out alright."

"Oh, it will." He made himself laugh, for her and for himself. "Give me a couple weeks and those brats'll be damn near awesome."

"What brats?" Her voice rang with curiosity and carefully disguised sorrow.

The grin he gave her felt stale and unwanted, but he hoped it would give them closure. "My students."

Waving as he walked down the drive, he fished his keys from his pocket and unlocked his car. He smirked at her one more time before starting the vehicle and backing slowly from the house. As he did, the tears he'd promised himself he wouldn't cry trickled down his cheeks. The last thing he saw before he left her street forever was Elizabeta, face buried in her hands as her shoulders heaved with unheard sobs.


And now, because that was depressing as hell, for an omake to lighten the tone!