lucetilogs | There’s many who’ll tell you they’ll give you their love, but when they say "give" they mean "take."

Entry tags:

There’s many who’ll tell you they’ll give you their love, but when they say "give" they mean "take."

Who:

momnapplepie
What: A conversation after Elicia falls asleep
When: BACKDATED to the night of Maes' return, November 10th
Where: Their living room
Summary: Sometimes, love isn't simple.
Rating: PG

The entire day had been - was there a word for the return of your lost love that didn't linger on the tongue like some kind of dessert? Her daughter was thrilled, and had accepted her father's return with childlike faith, enthusiasm, and forgiveness. Gracia was no longer a child, and getting used to Maes had always been like getting used to a constant sunbeam, an unending explosion... she'd grown accustomed to his absence once again, to the pain of knowing he was gone. The layers that she'd constructed around her heart in order to survive were hard to tear down, but his presence was insistent. She'd faded to the background for most of the day, more than content to allow Elicia the time with her father, to be there for both of them but keep herself the slightest bit apart so that she could see if she could get her feet under her again.

And now that Elicia had settled down between them once again, her little hands clutching onto her father's pajama shirt, Gracia stared sleeplessly up at the ceiling. The familiar weight on the other side of the bed was something that she had missed these past months. Elicia had just started to go back to her own bed a few weeks before he'd been... returned, and soon after that Gracia had wanted her daughter with her as much as Elicia couldn't stand to go to sleep alone. She'd have to be careful, it wasn't healthy to continue this indulgence, but... for now... she didn't want Elicia to be robbed of any more time with her father.

...and she didn't mind the small living barrier between them, either. It had been hard enough to adjust to him being alive again after all that time without him. She'd changed. And he... he hadn't changed at all. He'd been patient, though, and just as she was getting ready to trust him enough to let him all the way into that place in her heart which no one else could ever occupy... he'd gone. Again.

And now he was back, and she could hear him breathing. Breathing. Amazing, this gift of life so casually bestowed by this place, and equally casually rescinded. She listens to them, the quiet breaths of her most precious ones until the pressure, the weight of it all grows too much and she's afraid that if she lays there one moment longer she will crack under it. She doesn't want to ruin this day with tears. Elicia should sleep, secure and happy. Maes should...

Gracia squeezes her eyes shut tightly for a moment and then slides from the bed as carefully and quietly as she can. She only pauses long enough to pick up her robe to wrap it around her modest nightgown. She softly opens the door and leaves them behind, not daring to look back.

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You'd think he'd be aching for a physical comfort like sleep at this point, if only by virtue of the fact that he was actually able to sleep. To the the least, this day had been exhaustive, again and again swarmed by the fact that it was impossible, and it's hard to even form thoughts without being slammed with awe. But everything seemed to be in place to convince him this was real. Real feelings, real thoughts, real sights, real sounds. Real touch. Something fabricated couldn't imitate the warm hands of his daughter gathered against the fabric of his shirt. This moment had every reason to be a dream, but it's etched with reality he can't get past. So he'll take it and won't stop to question. It's real.

And that's part of the reason he can't just fall into a deep sleep. Reality is tantalizing to hold onto, and he doesn't give into his tiredness that easily. And even when he does start drifting off, he feels movement. Peering out of a bleary eye, he catches sight of Gracia just before she leaves the room.

So, she can't sleep either. It's not too surprising, but he can't help but think of how she'd been that day--always there, always nearby so he could break from Elicia to smile at her or exchange a few words to express things he wasn't sure could even be expressed in words. But she hadn't taken attention away from their daughter for much time at all. He hasn't had much time to stop and think what she must be feeling, but...it has to be a lot.

Taking care to make sure Elicia doesn't wake up, he slips out of the bed and tucks the blankets close around her. He grabs his glasses off the night stand, slides them on, and--pauses to take a deep breath. This was Gracia. He shouldn't be nervous but...it's been a long time for her, hasn't it?

He wants this chance. She must have a lot to say, and he wants to listen. So he quietly clicks open the door to head after her.

Gracia intended to go to the bathroom. She could shut the door behind her and run the water, and no one would know if she was laughing or crying or quietly staring and waiting to figure out if this was just a dream. But she never made it that far. Only a few steps away from the door, and the weight is too much. She wants to run back inside to make sure that they're both still there. She can't live like this.

Her hands found the back of the sofa and she is clutching the cushions there with a white-knuckled grip, willing herself to refrain from running back into the bedroom when the door quietly opens and closes behind her. She smooths her expression to calm and mild concern, she wouldn't want to worry Elicia, before turning to see who was at the door. It is too late, however, to do anything about that anchoring, intense grip on the sofa which only tightens when she sees who it is. Her heart leaps up into her throat at the familiar sleep-tousled sight. Her voice is low, "I didn't mean to wake you."

Edited 2011-11-20 04:09 (UTC)

He can tell she's trying to look calm, but her grip on the couch-back betrays more than she's letting on. "It's alright. I wasn't asleep for very long, anyway." He hesitates. It strange, not knowing quite what to say to her. It's like there's a bump he can't get by, not knowing even slightly the breadth of what she's gone through. And that's an uncomfortable and foreign feeling.

He takes a few steps towards her, before stopping at her side to rest a hand on the small of her back. He can tackle this, one step at a time. "You were having trouble sleeping yourself, weren't you."

She can feel his touch through her robe and gown, warm and familiar. He'd done as much countless times. It made her want to step close and melt into him. He'd always had the ability to slip past all her defenses. She knew that he would again, she could see him working at it as surely as she could make out the flecks of green in his eyes, but this time she wondered if she should keep resisting: she was scared of what he'd find once he was there in the barren, aching places of her heart.

Her grip flexes on the sofa once more before she releases it and moves to the side, the new position not moving away from him, but encourages his hand to either shift to her hip or - hopefully - drop while enabling her to face him. "It's been a full day."

Her hand flexes with the desire to reach up and smooth some of his hair away from his forehead, with the desire to touch him and her self-control lasts all of a heartbeat before she does just that, moving a few strands to the side as she studies his face, reinforcing the etching on her memory. Her hand drops to rest lightly over his heart. "I can't tell you..." She stops, swallows the depth and strength of her emotions, and somehow manages to continue in a calm tone, though her eyes still give her away, "...how good it is to see you."

Edited 2011-11-20 04:43 (UTC)

Though his hand drops when she moves to face him, he catches hers when it comes to rest against his chest, holding it in place, not willing to let that contact go now that it's open. Those kind hands. Those kind hands that gave endlessly and carefully created joy and and oh, how he adores those hands. "Gracia, I..." And suddenly there's so much to say. Only moments before, he couldn't find the words, but now, he's battling to figure out what ones to use first. What did she need to hear the most? Was it him repeating over and over again how inexplicably happy he is to be there, or how he can't even begin to apologize for what happened--no. She knows him. She knows these things. And if he's been here before, she's already heard them. Those were things he wanted to say, but he's not sure it's what she needs to hear.

"...I never meant to leave you." And even if he doesn't have his memories, he means either time. "But I did. I'm going to make up for it." And he can't help it. He has to say it: "I'm so sorry."

Every word is a battering ram against her heart and Gracia closes her eyes for a moment. Her hand curls under his, grabbing onto his shirt. Even as she takes steps to remain composed, she only wants to hold on to him more tightly. She never wants to have to say goodbye to him again. However the simple inevitability of that, how helpless they are against him staying or going and against what has already happened caution her, not against trust, because she will always trust him, but against openness, against accepting him fully.

"I know that you would have never left us if you had a choice." The use of the plural there is unconscious, even as it both distances herself from his claim and includes the child who is always on her mind and in her heart. "We always knew how much you loved us."

She opens her eyes, blinks back tears. "You made very certain of that."

And it's at the very hint of tears that he realizes that isn't sure he can bear to see her cry, to see so fully exposed how he--whether he was to blame or not, it didn't matter, it was still because of him--had hurt her. So maybe it's weakness at this fact that compels him to wrap his other arm around her to bring her tightly against him. If she's going to cry...he at least wants to hold her while she does. He feels so helpless, unable to offer any kind of quick fix to take that ache away, but he'll do whatever he can to ebb the sting.

"I love you, both of you. So much. And I always will, no matter what happens." Another thing she certainly knows. But he can't leave it unsaid.

Oh, don't - don't do that. She always felt so very safe in his arms. And now all she can feel as he embraces her is a raw fear, as though he'll be swept away again at any moment. She shudders lightly in his arms, knowing, knowing that he'll be destroyed in ways she can't put back together if she cracks now, if she breaks under the pressure of this happiness and pain. Before he'd had months and months to get used to the idea of being alive. Now he was coming just from leaving them, and how difficult this must be for him to face them and see the devastation his leaving had left in its wake.

She won't show it to him. She refuses to hurt him that badly. Maybe, slowly, she'll be able to let him into those places of her heart again. But not now, not tonight. Tonight she has to guard both of them.

"I love you too." He should never doubt that, that he always has a place here, with them, in her heart no matter how many times he's forced to leave. She lightly wraps her other arm around his waist. "Always."

He'd like to believe it's this simple, but he knows her too well. She's holding something back, hiding something away. It's an unfamiliar feeling, but he's too full to let it pull him away from this moment, this sensation. To simply be able to hold her and feel her heart beat and every breath she took was enough for now. To know that, in spite of everything, she still loved him. He's never going to let himself forget just how lucky he is to have that. He lifts his hand to stroke, her hair, soaking in every reality of this moment, before speaking again.

"And that's why I'm easily the luckiest guy here. Having you and Elicia here..." He lets himself trail off, because putting that feeling into words was something he doubted he could accomplish. And he wants so badly to promise that he won't leave again, that no matter what, he won't leave them alone like he had. But's already learned enough about Luceti to realize just what a terrible things that would be to say, so while he means it with all his heart, he just can't say it out loud.

His tenderness threatens to undo her composure. She wants to curl into his chest and cry I missed you so much, she wants to reach up and kiss him until they're both gasping for breath and senseless, she wants to shove him away and yell Don't you ever do this again. Do you know what we went through? She does none of these things.

It's a strange process of enduring and storing up each sense of him holding her, the warmth of him pressed against her, the familiar way their bodies fit, the stroke of his hand on her hair... and when Gracia can no longer handle the strain, she straightens and pushes lightly against his chest with her hand, dropping her other arm and moving to lean back. "It's another chance to be together."

She leans her head back further, to better distance herself and meet his gaze. "But you should see if you can sleep. There will be a lot of people coming to see you tomorrow."

Just like that afternoon, this is an attempt to Do What's Best... but keep him from looking at her too closely. There's so much that they need to talk about, even if just about the months they had been together here, but... she's not sure if he's ready, or if she would be able to do it without cracking.

Yes, it's a chance. A chance to show them even more how much he cared and take advantage of every possible second of life--he wouldn't let anything slip by again. Not with this opportunity he had no right to have. To have this was more than he could have ever asked for. And so even if it is going to be hard to adjust and figure out his place in a world he'd disappeared from, he will. For Gracia, for Elicia, he will.

"I promise I won't waste it. You can count on that."

He offers her a small smile of pent up adoration and apologies. Try to sleep. Okay. If that's what she wanted him to do, then he would. He drops their hands from his chest to their side, hanging cozy and tight and familiar. Things could wait. He could walk a fragile balance until she was ready for more, to share what she was holding back on. He wasn't pushy with her, and he's not about to start now. So even though he's dying to know what's on her mind, what's bound up in her tensity and reluctance, he will wait and wait and wait until she's ready.

"I'll give it another shot. Are you going to come back in now?" Once again, leaving her room. It goes against his instincts to make distance, but he has that balance to conserve.

Her gaze drops to their joined hands, and she shifts a little to interlock their fingers in a reassurance she's not sure which of them needs more. She is not ready for the easy intimacy of going back and going to bed with him, despite Elicia's presence between them.

"I don't think I could sleep." She doesn't look up at him, afraid he'd be able to read how lost she feels on her face. She should let go now, and start to direct him back to the bedroom if she wants to continue to protect both of them. But Gracia lingers, holding his hand an instant or so too long.

"...I can stay with you." It's the instinctive response, even if she's given him the directive to go back to sleep. But the way she holds on to his hand, like she just can't quite give in to the idea of letting him go, that gets to him. She's burying more than he can see, and even if she wants that distance, if it means leaving her alone like this, he's not sure that it's something he can go along with.

So he'll just wait, and watch. And keep waiting, if that's what it takes to help her hold the pieces of her heart together.

...she's not really sure what to do with that. Should she insist that he go get some rest? Or should she try and take him up on it? Will she be able to keep her distance if he stays? It would be better if she made him go, safer, with much less of a chance of causing them pain... and much less of a chance of causing them joy.

No more regrets. They needed this too. She looks up at him and smiles softly. "You can sit with me on the couch for a little while, if you like."

This is the answer that he wants, and he's glad she gives it without much resistance. He could sleep any old time. But this instance, this one, exact instance, could only happen right now.

He gives her hand a gentle squeeze and offers up an equally gentle smile. "Of course I'd like to." And there's an unsaid and I'll stay as long as you want implied with that. He starts to move towards the couch, leading her along by the intertwined fingers.

She allows him to lead her to the sofa, following not too far behind as they travel around it. She even allows their fingers to remain interlocked instead of withdrawing her hand when they move to sit. Besides, this way, she'll have plenty of room between them.

Softly, "You must be tired. I'd imagine today was pretty confusing for you."

Room between them. He notices the fact, but he isn't going to let it get to him, not now. He'll just be content to hold on to what he has in holding her hand.

A tired half-laugh. "That's putting it lightly. I still can't get my head around the fact that this is happening." He meets her eyes. It would be only so easy to believe this was a dream. "Really happening." He'd always had more than he could have hoped for with Gracia and Elicia. So to have this, after losing his life...how'd he ever become so lucky? He knew enough about Luceti already to know many people were here without any of their friends from home. And yet, he has his family. The two people more important to him than anything else in the world.

"...I know it might sound crazy after what happened, but I feel like the luckiest guy in the world right now." Just for having this chance. This second chance to make the most of this new life.

She glances to the side, eyeing his profile for a moment before smiling softly. "It does sound a little crazy." But she squeezes his hand for a moment after that, because it's this kind of crazy that she always loved about him. "It's all right if it takes you a little while to get used to it. It took me a while when I first arrived."

He takes a moment to consider this. It wasn't going to be a smooth transition, but he'd make the most of it. Just the bare fact that here, he doesn't have a job to go to, means he can spend more time with his wife and daughter. Another thing to be grateful for.

"Gracia...how long has it been?" He'll let her interpret that how she wants. Since he died, since she arrived, since he left Luceti...which one would she answer to?

"Two months since you left." Sixty-one days. "Seven since I arrived. You'd been here for a little over a year before I came."

...

"Well, before I came that I remember. You and Elicia told me that I'd been here for a few days last January."

Only a few days... that hurts her all over again, to have had put Elicia through that. "I don't remember being here before either."

And for the first time, it crosses his mind that she could just up and disappear, too. Her and Elicia. That sudden jolt of role-reversal is striking, and he looks at her intently, almost checking to see that she's still there, that this is still real.

"There's just no telling when we come and go, is there?" His voice is a quiet murmur. Elicia had been there through both of them disappearing? Even if one of them had still been around each time, how could such a small child go through losing both of her parents like that?

"No. There isn't." She watches him closely as he comes to grips with this most unsettling aspect of living in Luceti and doesn't let go of his hand. "There's very little that can be controlled here, it seems."

That isn't something he likes to face. The idea that it's out of his hands, that he can't protect those dearest to him even by keeping himself from leaving...

"Then we just have to take advantage of every moment we can, don't we?" Because if he leaves here, he has nothing but a grave to go back to. And if she or Elicia leave, it isn't as if he can just wait to go home and join them.

She looks down at their joined hands and when she speaks her voice is low - because she believes it, oh how she believes it, but it's hard to open her heart again. "Yes."

And then she glances up at him, a little uncertainly. '...it's still hard to believe that you're here."

You're telling him. It's the strangest feeling, remembering that exact instant when life left you. And then, somehow, getting that spark back. As horrible as the Malnosso might be...they'd given him that.

"...I know. I feel the same way." He pauses, holding the words in his mouth until he figures out the best way to put them. "And I know you're going to need time. To...get used to it. But that's okay, alright? It's okay."

How is it that he somehow knows how to say exactly the right thing? Gracia sighs a little, some of the invisible tension leaving the of her shoulders. She shuts her eyes for a moment.

"All right."

They still have so much to talk about, there's so much that he needs to know, but... it's more important to start building that bridge between their hearts again. And although he said it was all right for her to take her time, and part of her very much wants to withdraw, Gracia meant it when she said she wanted to live her life with no regrets. Bridges don't get rebuilt by staring at the empty space between them. So she shifts slightly, moving closer to lay her head on his shoulder.

This still gets him. This little flutter in his heart and weakness in his knees when she pulls close to him. It feels new and wonderful, every time, like a young, naive crush that's laced with trust and comfort and everything bright and beautiful that comes with being in love. He rests his cheek against the top of her head, hair soft and sweet, and puts his other hand on her forearm. His fingers brush over her skin, tender with worry, because he realizes this is only the beginning of what could be a long process, if they were even allowed to stay together for that long. But this is what he wants. And it's exactly what he needs.

Slowly, slowly Gracia lets it go, the worry, the fear, the impossible weight... she lets it all go and there is only this moment, right now, here, with him. The terrible burden of pained expectations and hope and joy and love and loss and so much grief and pain eases from her heart... for now. It will doubtless be back, these things are not so easily disbursed, but now? Just now?

Now she is with him.

Gracia moves further towards him, to press against his side, lifting their joined hands to rest on her lap. She doesn't want to dislodge his touch on her arm, and so she waits a moment more before moving her free hand to wrap around his arm in a loose embrace.

She doesn't say anything. There's too much to be said. Right now, just being with him... that's all she wants. And all she needs.

It's so easy to let this take him over, so he does. The peace of sleep no longer seems like an offense to his life, and moving feels like a downright impossibility once they're so close and tightly knit together like this. Nagging thoughts about Elicia in the other room pry at his mind, but his defenses against exhaustion are quickly deconstructing, piece by piece by piece until he isn't sure he could move even if he wanted to.

There's just one more thing he wants to say while he wavers on the thin line between awareness and dreams.

"I love you, Gracia."

Her eyes still closed, Gracia catches her breath for a moment at those words. Somehow, very much, she just wants to cry. Instead, she breathes out.

Just this moment. No regrets.

"And I love you." She swallows, and squeezes his hand. "We'll be all right."

As long as we're together... Please, let them be together. She closes her eyes tighter and listens to him breathing.

Edited 2011-11-27 03:56 (UTC)

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There’s many who’ll tell you they’ll give you their love, but when they say "give" they mean "take."

I predict a festival of tl;dr in this log.

delicious, delicious tl;dr

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