Quote of the Chapter:

"It's not romance, simply how things are." - Letters from Yorkshire, Maura Dooley

Chapter Thirty-One: I'm weak (for you)

Today was her last day in Edinburgh. One week had passed in a flash, the days filled with wandering the city, following paparazzi trails and rushing from venue to venue. Most mornings were early, Elizabeth waking up to the blare of her phone's alarm and rushing around her hotel room to get ready for the day; some afternoons were spent meeting with Arthur for lunch, indulging in the worry-free meal. In between moments with Mael would be sprinkled, from impromptu ice-cream to even a sneaky gossip about some of the other journalists present.

In the evenings Elizabeth would retire to Zeldris and Gelda's house, the pair insisting on her eating dinner with them as they were dying for the company. Each evening Elizabeth would arrive, grinning as Gelda wrapped her into a hug and Zeldris grunted out a gruff hello. Part of Elizabeth felt like the visits were used to warm her up to the idea of being a part of their family; Gelda did indulge a little too much in sharing conversation, eagerly placing Elizabeth's hand over her round stomach to feel the gentle prods of her unborn niece/nephew's kicks.

Nevertheless, even with the not-so-subtle bribery, Elizabeth didn't feel any less uncomfortable. Being around Zeldris and Gelda, their happy coexistence, was too much for her. It reminded her too much of what she once had, shattered by the building impact of her naivety and Meliodas' lies.

"Something's troubling you," Arthur spoke after a sip of his tea. Ever since he had called her to meet him - early this time - Elizabeth knew something was up. Even when he'd greeted her like usual, shaking her hand as he stood up from the table, Elizabeth could sense the impending interrogation. Of course, on-brand with the Pendragon family, it was occurring over tea. "I can see it."

"That obvious?" Elizabeth joked, chuckling as she took a small sip of her mango tea. Mango - a refreshing, exotic fruit that was a rare treat in dreary England. She'd chosen that option because it usually made her feel better. Today it settled as a sour lump in her throat, lingering as a stale aftertaste on her tongue and the tiny taste buds within it.

"Tell me about what happened," Arthur pressed, except it was gentle, almost like a guiding hand being laid out before her. Cracking a charming smile, the young man grinned, his eyes glimmering with mischief, "Before your eager coworker and the whole city finds out our location. I'm sure it'd be the talk of the town."

Oh yes, it definitely would be. Arthur Pendragon and a mysterious young woman meeting up for breakfast together? The media would have a field day from the pictures alone!

Sighing, Elizabeth set down her tea, "It's Meliodas."

"Your..." Arthur pursed his lips, deft fingers drumming against his tea cup. Earl grey - somewhat fitting for a man like him. "Unofficial boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend," Elizabeth cut in quickly, face warm with blood as she took a swift sip from her cup. Ignoring the curdling sensation of the oddly sour tea, she swallowed it down. "We're just closer than most people."

"He might as well be your boyfriend," Arthur responded, another smile overtaking his lips. Fondly, he continued, almost teasing in his words as he cut into his plate of a full Scottish breakfast - something that a publicist wanted him to eat today. Something about maintaining a love for all of Britain's cultures. "Even back in university you two were practically tied at the hip."

"Well, we didn't start casually messing around until we were living together," Elizabeth defended, her face feeling warm from the admission alone. Arthur's clear skepticism didn't help much either, a keen brow being raised as he shoved a forkful of egg into his mouth. Sighing, Elizabeth murmured, "Ok, it was occasional before then."

"And yet you both refuse to be a couple," Arthur sighed, shaking his head of strawberry blonde hair. Raising a brow, the young man rested a cheek in his palm, elbow on the table. Normally, Elizabeth would tease him on the lack of table manners. This morning, the joke fell short on her tongue. "Why is that?"

"It's... complicated," Elizabeth bit her lip, brow furrowing as she picked at her napkin. Tiny tears ripped across the white surface. "I wanted certain things, he's a complete mystery and we just... we suck at communicating."

Yes, chalk it down to the usual reason instead of admitting the truth: Meliodas was a liar and Elizabeth was the ridiculous fool who believed it all. Even now, when the fault was not her own, Elizabeth was trying to shoulder it. Even now, hundreds of miles away, Elizabeth was still thinking about him, about how everything was a result of her actions intertwined with his.

Why couldn't she just separate them?

"You suck at communicating?" Arthur echoed, sounding incredulous as he set down his knife and fork. Frowning, the young man stared at Elizabeth, "Elizabeth, you and Meliodas could communicate without using words! If there's miscommunication then it must be something else masked as miscommunication."

There was no pulling the wool over Arthur's eyes. Nope, he was still as perceptive as he had been all those years ago, an avid follower of Merlin's eye for details.

"He lied to me, Arthur," Elizabeth sighed, feeling hot pressure at the back of her eyes as she pursed her lips. Fresh, the stab of betrayal still throbbed. "For years. That's why I'm here, far away from London."

"I see," Arthur muttered, his own bright aura seeming to dampen at the news. Returning to carving his way through the plate of fried food, the young man grimaced as he continued, his knife and fork filling the silence with their clinking, "That's disappointing to hear about him. I'd always admired Meliodas." Pausing, Arthur raised a brow. "What did he lie about?"

"Working for his father," Elizabeth decided to say. There was no point denying it. Arthur knew more about it than anyone else.

"The leader of the DK operation?" Arthur's eyes widened, almost aghast as he swallowed thickly. Downcast, his eyes flickered down to his plate, "That's really surprising. I'd always thought that Meliodas had gone his separate ways with them after what happened to you both. Weren't you- "

"Yes, I was," Elizabeth quickly interjected. Today wasn't the day to relive the past - not when she had an entire day to survive, glued to Mael's hip as they trekked about the city. Thinking about the past would only result in more questions from Mael; with how slippery her tongue was around him, Elizabeth wouldn't hesitate to tell him the truth.

"Meliodas got me out," Elizabeth spoke quietly. Damn the heated pricks to her eyes. "He got everyone but himself out."

For the first time silence sifted between them, heavy with the news delivered from her mouth. Even after all this time, Elizabeth hadn't truly admitted what had really occurred. What the lies really meant. Trying to distract herself, trying to hold herself together, she had simply brushed it all aside to bury herself within routine, a numbing, drowning routine, that revolved around work and Jericho and loneliness.

Sore and throbbing, her mind didn't like to focus on the past. Rarely did she ever think back to that night, sobbing to hysteria as she begged for everything to finally be normal again.

Pages of her diary contained it. Thoughtless, forgotten words that were locked away in the deepest depths of her heart were contained within that diary. Admissions from that night, admissions from many nights, observation she had made: they were all locked in that diary. Every last word, every single letter, remained in inked paper.

"There must be a catch to it, Elizabeth," Arthur murmured, pensive as he shook his head. Another gulp of his tea. Concentration filled his gaze. "Someone like Meliodas wouldn't work with someone like his father. There must be an explanation, some sort of logical reason."

"He lied," Elizabeth repeated, reinforced. That was all there was to it. She too had thought differently; naively, she had fooled herself into thinking he could ever change. "To all of us. Meliodas is a monster."

"You don't mean that," Arthur shook his head, his voice almost melancholic as the words slipped from his lips. Eyes soft at the edges, creased with concern, he glanced at Elizabeth, "You're just hurt, as any reasonable person would be. Although..." He pursed his lips, "This situation is puzzling. I might dig deeper into it, call in a favour with an old friend."

"Would that friend be Merlin?" Elizabeth perked up, desperate to redirect the conversation's course. "How is she by the way?"

"Happy, like always," Arthur answered, seeming to glow at the mention of his mentor. Effortlessly, a smile replaced the pensive look upon his face, lighting up his features as he rolled his eyes, "She's chasing a lead for a new project she's working on. And she's having her fun with a new guy."

"Merlin and her boy toys," Elizabeth couldn't fight her own smile. Every few months there was a new name, a new face to add to the mix. Before it had been Gray and before him it was Slader. "What's his name this time?"

"Escanor," Arthur smiled, almost amused at her curiosity. Mystery always did spark around the subject of Merlin and no-one knew her better than Arthur. "Although he's a lovely fellow. Around her age, has a good job and loves the socks off her. He's lasted quite a while too."

There was no point in hiding her joy. No, Elizabeth Liones was never good at hiding her happiness for others. Maybe that was why she couldn't help but smile broadly at the news, infectious happiness spreading through her veins. Distant and cryptic, Merlin always did avoid the men who tried to pursue her, having no time for their antics.

After her divorce, Merlin had always insisted that she would live the life she never had as a young woman: free, careless and full of risk. Being domestic was never her calling. Being a wife had never been her true want in life. Whenever she did speak about her ex-husband, Merlin had always said that it was marriage of convenience - a way to keep her father quiet.

Once he died, she bailed and never looked back.

But now, it seemed, Merlin was taking a gamble at love again. Usually she would ditch men like Escanor through the first opportunity that came her way.

Releasing a gentle sigh, Elizabeth raised a brow, "Clearly, he's going to become a fixture. Why doesn't she just settle down?"

"Fear," Arthur answered, plain, blunt, easy. Cup of tea drained, he set it down on the table. "Fear is often why most people don't confess their love to others. When someone fears the result, fears losing love or losing what they once had, they hesitate," Arthur paused, almost melancholic in his sighed, "Unfortunately, Merlin is one of those people. So is Meliodas."

Was he trying to give her a heart attack? Surely, that was Arthur's intention by slipping such a cheeky thing into his words. However, as Elizabeth glanced at her friend, awkward and nose scrunched as he cringed around a bite of haggis, she couldn't determine what his goal was. Unfortunately, he had learned well from Ms Belialuin and her cryptic behaviours.

"What angle are you trying to poke?" Elizabeth leaned closer toward him, almost accusatory as a blush filled her face. Erratic in her chest, her heart thumped to an irregular rhythm. "Are you trying to suggest that Meliodas loves me?"

"I didn't suggest anything," Arthur shook his head. There wasn't a trace of jest - not even a flicker of a tiny grin. "I'm just saying that he's one heck of a coward and would most definitely avoid admitting the truth to you. Hesitation rules over his entire life."

Hesitation rules over his life... That would explain a lot about Meliodas, really. Avoidance was something he did do a lot of the time. Running away from the truth was also something that led to a lot of the problems they encountered. Even now, a week and million miles away, Elizabeth could recognise the hesitation sprinkled within his actions.

Maybe she had read his behaviours entirely incorrectly. Maybe she had missed chunks of the bigger picture.

"So," Elizabeth pursed her lips, fighting back the urge to anxiously drum her fingers against the tabletop. "Do you think I should see him?"

"I don't know," Arthur answered after a slight pause. "That all depends on how you feel about it. Do you want to see Meliodas again?"

Oh, a lot of her did. Lonely parts of her, homesick parts of her, did miss Meliodas. Restless nights on Jericho's sofa bed, bugged by the eerie silence of her flat, had been the bane of Elizabeth's existence before coming up north. Then, in Scotland, all she faced were countless reminders, every evening, of the very person her intense frustration her anger was directed towards.

But even with the frustration - even with the simmering outrage - she did still want to see him again. In the past, they did manage to clear the air. In the past, even if it didn't lead to a complete resolution, they could still meet up to clear the air.

But had the air gotten too thick this time? Filled with pollution, filled with outside factors that mixed like sulfuric acid in rain clouds, the air had become a dangerous place. Confronting the truth, wanting the full truth, was a tricky thing to want with the dangers attached to it. Plus, there was no guarantee about Meliodas being honest. Hesitation ruled over him; hesitation was his worst enemy.

Knowing that about him though... Elizabeth didn't want to be hesitant. Hesitation only caused more errors.

"Maybe," She decided to admit. Maybe she did want to see him again. "Part of me does miss him."

"I know you do," Arthur agreed, nodding as he signaled to a nearby waiter. "That's what happens when we love others."