Riding was less unpleasant than she had initially thought, but it was definitely far from pleasant. The wind roared in her ears; the vibrations of the engine shook her body to the bones. The stability was so brittle in the wind, which, if it was a little strong, easily vitiated the trajectory, that the speed itself felt different, more uncomfortable.
In a car there was still a feeling of security : in the event of an accident, the shock would be cushioned, but it was far different when the road was so close. It wasn't adrenaline; it was pure danger. And he rode fast.
Nevertheless, the speed was not the source of her uneasiness – she was confident in his riding abilities; they were flawless – but rather her lack of control. She fought so hard against her instinct to accept being completely at his mercy.
"What's wrong?"
"You could have told me that we could communicate."
"Lacrima comms make an incredible work. So ?"
Honestly everything but "nothing".
"You're tense, really."
And yet she tried to not be. She really endeavoured to fight her inner resistance, but feeling so vulnerable was just too revolting for her.
"Do you want me to slow down?"
"No need."
So it was not the speed. He could feel something was bothering her, but he couldn't focus on the road and guess the reason why, yet riding with a passenger was more complicated when the latter didn't cooperate. He knew she couldn't anticipate his movements; it was her first time, but she took too long to mirror them.
"Just trust me and try to enjoy the ride."
She wished she could.
" You trust me, right ? "
" Always "
"Then rely on me."
And she did.
The road seemed to never end. She hadn't asked where they were going. The subject was sensitive, but from the signs, she guessed they were going to the north of the country on the border with the Seven Empire.
They had been riding for much more than three hours when the wind became stronger and colder; in no time the rain had fallen on them, forcing them to stop in the first town they were passing by. It was a really tiny village, with less than a thousand souls and only one inn, which served as a hotel, bar and restaurant for the rest of the area.
They have to become customers in order to stay. That's how she has ended up ordering the local dish, also known as a full breakfast, at eleven in the morning, whereas she didn't like to eat before noon.
On the contrary, he had opted for a coffee; she frowned, surprised he did not want to eat, knowing his bike moved forward by drawing on his energy – thus, the faster they went, the more his magic was absorbed, and so far he had driven fast – but she didn't make any remark.
She assumed he was smart enough to not overestimate his strength; he had been riding for years, and she hated having to mother him. Still, she wondered what could darken his thoughts and hence cut off his appetite.
"So, may I finally know where we are going?"
"Not really wanting to talk about our destination; consider it a surprise, but if you insist on knowing, I would answer."
"Well, so why today?"
"Anniversary"
She frowned; honestly, at this point she didn't even expect a response. The food and coffee had arrived, and Grey sighed, welcoming the interruption. She didn't ask any more and offered the silence he so desperately sought.
One hour later they were back on the road for still three hours. The landscape changed gradually, plunging them into an increasing wilderness, the roads becoming narrower and more winding, the valleys and plains giving way to forests and snow-covered trees.
As they gained in altitude, the snow covered the shoulder of the road, and the ice protruded here and there, forming icy puddles in it. The wind became hostile and colder.
The last hour was the worst; despite the pair of gloves he had lent her, her fingers were freezing. The temperature was icy, and it was exhausting for her. He had thought to take a break twice, but they were in the middle of nowhere.
He felt her grip loosening and her agitation. She was getting less precise when she leaned and less aware of his movements. Cold didn't affect him, but her gestures did; he was conscious she did not have his cold resistance, so he didn't blame her, but her fatigue impacted his driving.
After twenty more minutes it was his turn to suffer from the physical tiredness; his muscles tensed, his grip was sharper and his right shoulder started to ache. He had underestimated the aftermath of having a passenger. He must have changed his driving to fit with the new gravity point; the balance was not the same either, and the energy required was bigger. But at least now she mirrored his leans.
When they finally arrived, her legs were pure jelly. They had stopped in front of a large wooden chalet. She took off her helmet, freeing her hair in the wind, and looked out at the view. The village was further down the valley, a ten or twenty minute walk away. She expected someone to come out to greet them, but no one came. He gave her the key while he parked his motorcycle under the carport.
"Come in before you freeze completely."
This was definitely a very pleasant place. She was only walking in the entrance and could already see the several floor-to-ceiling windows. The decoration was like his home: cosy but studied. The fabrics, the colours, and the giant bright bay window, which opens on a west-facing terrace, all felt homey.
"What do you think about it?"
He was laying his helmet on the wooden sideboard and pulled off his gloves, walking towards the open kitchen to take a glass of water as if he were the owner.
"That's really nice. Where are we"?
She was looking at the ceiling; the ceiling height was startling. All was very out of demure, from the living room with this sectional sofa that looks so comfy to the breathtaking view from the bay window.
"In my home "
She turned towards him, astonished. She obviously hasn't made the good choices in terms of financial investment.
"Why so far?"
"Ask my parents."
Then it was that. The dark thoughts and the mourning veil in his eyes.
"I thought all the town had been destroyed."
It was tactless, but she doubted there was a good way to bring up this conversation; frankness at least had the merit of being direct and perhaps less abrasive.
"It had been, but some survivors started rebuilding it; they didn't want to live anywhere else. It was a sign of resilience in the face of terror, I guess. It took them years to come back, but they did."
She had never suspected it, but it made perfect sense, knowing how stubborn he could be, that the people here were also stubborn forces of nature. Still, he had never mentioned this town or its reconstruction.
The only time he had spoken about his past was on Galuna Island, according to what Lucy had told her. She had never asked him about it; she had figured out the gist along the way, and he had never brought up the subject of his past with her. She swept this thought away to listen to him.
"They contacted the rest of the families scattered across Fiore. I received a letter asking me to come help them and participate in the general effort, but I refused."
He made a pause looking at her, searching for astonishment or judgement in her eyes but only found softness and warmth. His gaze drifted from her to somewhere beyond the witnessed mountains.
"I was young; I must have been fifteen at that time; it was too early. I made an annual donation anonymously, and then three years ago, I contacted an architect. The work began a year later; that's when I started accepting all the missions offered to the north. I spent two winters alternating between the guild and the work here as soon as I finished a mission in the region."
She didn't say anything and nodded absentmindedly, trying to figure out all the information. She was discovering a whole part of his life that she had never suspected. It was troubling that he could have so many secrets.
They were friends for years but not close enough for him to talk to her about all of this. It was cutting. Nevertheless, she was glad he finally trusted her enough to bring her there.
She wondered if anyone else knew about this place, about his past. She doubted it; he was too secretive. However, Leon and he were particularly close, and they had conversations that he didn't have with her. But there was someone else who he was close to. Another person who could have possibly known this place. A person she hoped didn't know anything.
He frowned seeing her expression. She was obviously fighting with her reason to stop herself from asking him something.
" It's rare to see you hesitate so much. If you have something to ask, then ask."
She bit her bottom lip, but he persisted in looking at her.
"Okay. Why didn't you come here with Jubia when the guild had disbanded? I mean, it would have been way more comfortable than this tiny house."
"I avoid this place; too many memories. I only come once a year, and except when my father died for the second time, I avoid to sojourn here. This is a secret place; I have never brought anyone there."
But her. She feigned a sudden interest in the fabric of the fireplace to avoid his meaningful look. This place was a mirror towards the hidden part of his soul, and he was revealing it to her. All the sadness, all the secrets – he was giving her everything. He let her enter his heart, openly.
"I trust you."
He was taking a step forward right into the chasm, falling. Her heart skipped a beat. Don't. Love is a fall. She wished he had not forgiven her. She wished they were still on the edge, facing each other, free to step back and then come back over and over. She didn't want to fall.
She saw the worry flash in his eyes for a furtive instant, unsure whether she saw his or a reflection of her own disquiet. Eyes are the windows to the soul, theirs mirroring these windows. They were incandescent for each other, and for the first time in her life, the fire scared her. She wanted to protect her heart from that blaze.
She had loved once, and her pain had been unbearable. She couldn't bear a second heartache, especially if it meant losing her best friend. That was the reason why they would never be more than just friends.