"Do you ever wonder if we did the right thing?" Where had that question come from?
His hand flexed slightly over hers. There was a moment of silence but it didn't last near as long as she thought it would. "No."
She blinked, her eyes wanting so bad to look at him again. "Never?"
"I never wonder, because I know. This is the best we could have done with what we had."
How...how can he be so certain?
"What if we were supposed to stay?"
"What is this 'supposed to'?" he teased gently. "I didn't know you believed in fate, Aya."
With Ceres and...everything...how can I not?
"The thing about fate," he said more seriously, dragging her attention back to him, "Is that it's...fate."
Okay, even with all her distress she still couldn't help but give him her 'you-don't-say' look.
He rolled his eyes, "What I mean is-fate is fate, you know. If something is meant to be, it will be. Regardless of what we say or do. If we were meant to stay, then we would be there right now."
She looked up at the ceiling, at the sticker-stars that were still glowing strongly "So, is this fate?" An empty whisper, barely passing her lips.
He glanced at her sharply at that, a chase of unease going across his eyes that he quickly hid. She wouldn't have noticed that before, would she? How blind and stupid she was.
"I'm not sure I believe in fate," he said quietly, drawing his hand back from hers to fold loosely over his own knee. "At least, not to that degree. I don't think any one thing controls our every step. I think it's more a series of choices, and we decide from moment to moment."
Somehow, that explanation hurt more than it comforted. There was an easy scapegoat in the idea of fate. "What if it's choice and fate?"
"Choice and fate," he echoed curiously.
"Yes. Like...we all have more than one path fated to us, and it's only our choices that decide which one we follow."
"Well, if that were the case, then you could still argue that it's all fate. Sometimes I think the idea of 'fate' is just another way for people to not take responsibility for their own actions."
A deep breath as he just answered some question she had inside her. She just wasn't sure which, or if it had been the answer she was seeking.
"But don't you think...that some things aren't our choice? Like we end up going down paths that we would never consciously choose?"
This is not a path I would choose...Please, I want to blame something for this. I don't want to believe that you would do this on purpose.
He looked amused suddenly, and very...adoring. It startled her into wanting to edge away from him. "You know, you're really clever sometimes, Aya."
She blushed in the dark; she couldn't seem to help it. Please don't compliment me.
"Oi, I'm not stupid, you kn-"
"But you're right," he spoke right over her with a little grin. "Sometimes we end up on paths we don't choose for ourselves, but is that fate? Or are we just reacting to the choices that others have made?" he shook his head. "I don't know."
Then that serious look. He looked like he wanted to reach and touch her again. Did he keep touching her because he loved her? Or because he...wanted her? Was there even a line between the two in his mind anymore?
She used to love this, the little touches, the soft words. But now...now she just didn't know. Was it okay to love this? To be flattered? Comforted? Was it okay for her to think that she still wanted him to touch her, no matter what intentions there were behind his eyes?
He gave in; she saw it that moment before he slowly lifted his hand once more. He placed it gently down over her hands again, leaning forward slightly to make sure he had her attention. Not that he had ever lost it. "Is this what's been bothering you, Aya? Are you having second thoughts?"
Was she? Did she really believe that leaving hadn't been for the best? The fact that she had never even entertained that idea before was answer enough. But...it was an explanation for her distress that he had come up with himself...meaning he probably wouldn't see through it to the real problem if she meekly agreed.
He needed an answer, because without one she knew he wouldn't leave her alone. Was this the best way? Was it better to mask the truth and hope someday that she will learn to deal with it?
"Yes. Is this really okay? Aki, what if we were supposed to stay?"
She was glad he didn't answer out-right, this was a serious question, and one she hadn't even realized she needed answered. Because, though she still believed that this was the right path...she couldn't help but wonder. What if? What would have happened had they stayed? Would things have been better?
His eyes grew hazy with thought, as his finger began absently tracing the delicate definition of bones in her hand. She watched the thoughtless patterns he drew and realized that even this wasn't an innocent caress. Wasn't the actions of the side of him that was always going to be her far-too-serious brother.
She quickly shied away from such thoughts, recognizing certain implications that she knew she was not ready to deal with yet.
She wanted to move past this, because she felt she had to. But she wondered if there wasn't a danger in acceptance...In coming to terms with the fact that he felt this way, but she still loved him.
How was there even a question, though? He was Aki, and no matter what he did or thought-how could she not love him?
Reconciling these emotions was proving to be so very difficult. There were ends that should never meet, but she found herself trying to forcefully tie them together, anyway.
"Aya," he spoke softly, and she realized that she had heard this voice before. Where had she heard it? "Try to think of it this way. If we weren't meant to be here, we wouldn't be. That's how fate works. If it really exists, then it's not something we can escape."
There was something so very final about that statement. Not something we can escape. Inescapable. Is that how you feel, Aki...She half-lifted her eyes to him, noticing the solemn down-tilt to his chin.
Am I inescapable?
It hurt so much for her to think that way. She never wanted him to hurt, or be his burden.
But at the same time, it flaked away a thin layer of her unease, and allowed her to relax some. If it was something he hadn't consciously chosen, if he hadn't meant for this to happen-How could she possibly blame him?
She couldn't. She grasped onto this decision with both hands, wanting to hold close any reason she could find to not have to force him away.
If it's not his fault...
If it's not his fault...
Then I could never blame him for this.
"Do you really believe that?" If you do, I will.
He seemed to hear the inherent pleading in her voice, the desperate need for her to latch onto...something. He lifted his head slowly, turning it just as slowly, and meeting her eyes head-on.
She blinked once, her head twitching once to the left as if something within her desperately wanted to look away. But she didn't. She couldn't. She could not dishonour the seriousness of his eyes by not meeting them directly.
"Yes, I really believe that. And if you need me to, I will believe enough for the both of us. I'm still not completely convinced in the existence of fate, but I do believe in choices, and I know we made the right choice here. Don't doubt, Aya. I know things are hard right now, and unfair, but I also know that you are stronger than all of this. That this isn't forever. I have to believe this."
Aki...She slid her hand out from under his, but instead of retreating as she probably should have, she instead cupped her hand over his hand, squeezing slightly.
"If you believe, then so will I."
His eyes gentled, the fierceness melting away in the heat of emotions far warmer. He turned his hand under hers, curving his fingers around her fingers. "Aya..."
"After all," she continued, not being able to stand so much seriousness for so long, and also really, really wanting him to stop looking at her as if...as if...as if he were in love, or something. "If my far-too-serious and cynical brother can believe, then this should be a piece of cake for me."
It didn't work. The look didn't go away. It only deepened somehow, brightened with a fondness that was so very familiar.
A subtle panic began to flutter behind her breastbone, bringing to her wavering attention that he was sitting next to her on the narrow bed, his outer-thigh a warm line against her hip. His hand curved solidly around hers on her stomach. The sound of their breathing, perfectly matched and paced in the darkness.
Her heart slowly began to beat faster, her hand involuntarily flexing in his hold, and coming across as a gentle squeeze. He squeezed back, the curve of his mouth evening to something more...indulgent. It was hard to tell in the dimness, but it seemed as if there was almost...a flush to his cheeks.
She blinked, looked away from him, looked back. Why wasn't he saying anything?
He blinked, too, but the motion was only half-done as his long, gold lashes rested low over his eyes. His hold on her hand tightened slightly, and he leaned steadily forward.
No words or emotion filled her mind as she froze in place, giving him wide, wide eyes.
He tilted his head up and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, his free-hand braced at her shoulder, and a strange image suddenly chased across her mind.
(He stared down at her with hot eyes, his hands clenched in the sheets to either side of her shoulders...)
A sharp breath, she couldn't help it. That didn't happen, she thought wildly. That would never happen!
Her breath hit his neck, and she was close enough to feel the shudder go through him, a quiver moving his lips against her forehead.
He drew back smoothly, but she noticed the sudden quickness to it, the sudden mask of innocence that fell down and covered the usual sharp force of personality behind those blue eyes. The mask extended to his mouth as he smiled gently, squeezing her hand one last time. "Get some sleep, Aya," he whispered, by way of retreat and good night.
He got up, turning just so as he headed back to the futon. But she still saw the strong line of his erection, pressed taut against the thin cloth of his shorts.
She turned her head back to the ceiling, and watched blankly as one by one the stars began to blink out.
( ) *
She lay in the dark and listened to the near-silent shift of sheets. Of hushed quick breaths.
He made a tiny, pained noise in his throat when he finally finished, and she closed her eyes down-tight, trying to physically force the sound right back out of her head.
But forcing the sound away, only seemed to bring the image closer.
She bit her lip hard, silent tears matting her eyelashes. On the tip of her tongue...there was the taste of salt.
TBC...