He smiles. She smiles. They link hands with the same happy ease they've been doing for the last few years and she rests her head on his shoulder, using her free hand to point to a picture of them.
"Look," she says softly. It's dark and quiet in the bed, and she doesn't want to break what she senses has descended upon them.
The picture shows a younger blond boy, devoid of his usual glasses, in his pajamas. He's sprawled on the floor with a startled expression.
He chuckles quietly at his younger self. "One of my biggest birthday surprises ever, Angel."
She manages a sleepy, peaceful grin as she turns the page. "And there?"
"A kiss Millie and Tamiya caught on camera. Oh, that was an embarrassing week." The memory brings another quiet chuckle. "I wonder how they're doing," he adds as an afterthought.
She yawns and fights a miniature battle with her eyelids. "Hopefully as good as the rest of us are doing," she murmurs. The future sees the formerly awkward genius and virtual girl well, married and with successful, content lives. They see the others every few months. It's not much, but it's enough.
"Oh," he says softly.
It's their picture.
It shows six teenagers and one dog—the blond is holding hands with the pinkette, and similarly with the brunette and tall raven-haired girl. A blond and purple haired boy holds a scrawny dog in his hands. They all grin as if they're the happiest they could possibly be. They look carefree.
They know better. He unconsciously rubs a circle on her palm with his thumb at the site of this, and she squeezes his hand softly in retaliation. They both have the same thoughts of Kadic, Lyoko, and Xana.
It feels like ages ago.
Or it should. Suddenly the atmosphere becomes emotional, ripe with memories of the past.
Almost asleep, she pushes the bad ones out of her mind. It is a nice night. Now was the time for remembering with fondness, not regretting and mourning.
"I remember…" she begins, interrupts herself with a yawn. "I remember… how everything was then. What I felt for you. And… they were stubborn fools."
He doesn't have to ask who she's referring to. He raises an eyebrow instead even though he knows she won't see it. "Yes," he agrees, "and we're hypocrites."
She makes a small noise of acknowledgement, her eyes completely closed now and dangerously close to drifting off. "We were the best of friends. Are," she corrects herself. Her words are slurred slightly.
"Yeah." He speaks one word absentmindedly, hints at another. He's silent. "If you could do everything over again," he begins seriously, "would you?"
She's silent, and he can tell that she's thinking about her father. The seconds go by. He worries she's fallen asleep, but then she mumbles the answer out. "In a heartbeat."
He doesn't speak for several seconds, staring at the picture. It fills his head with so many memories. Regrets. Self-deprecating thoughts. Did he do well enough?
He pushes those thoughts away. Like her, he doesn't want to dig into darker emotions now. He focuses on the happy memories, the small moments between them. The first kisses. Late night chats. The casual, treasured moments when they could be normal teenagers for a little while. Was the good worth the bad?
It was. All of it. "I would too," he finally admits.
But she's already asleep.