Vance thinks I don’t know that he loves me. I do. There’s a bond between us that goes beyond words. Sitting by the crackling fire he’s made for us, with his gaze wrapping around me like a warm embrace, I’m infused with a tranquillity that’s entirely new.
He stretches out his hand, delicately moving a stray strand of hair from my face, each brush against my skin causing a cascade of tingles down my back. Without uttering a single word, he’s able to bring me peace and comfort at a level I’ve never experienced here.
I sigh contentedly, leaning into his touch.
“What’s on your mind?”
“It’s beautiful here,” I tell him.
“It is.”
“But it’s awful too.”
“Yes.” He nods in understanding, his eyes holding a depth of sorrow that mirrors my own.
I want to tell him how much it hurts. Dying…but maybe not dying. Being here without them. But I don’t want to hurt his feelings either. He didn’t ask to die and not die and to end up stuck in some other world, with only me for company. It wouldn’t be fair to tell him I miss them, as though somehow he’s not enough.
The crackling flames cast flickering shadows across his face, accentuating the lines of weariness etched into his features.
My changing mood comes with a distant rumble of thunder, and Vance eyes the sky wearily.
I wonder if he’s figured it out yet. That my feelings and emotions are somehow linked to this place. When I’m…not happy exactly, but more settled…this place is perfect, beautiful. A paradise. But when doubt creeps in and my fears grow, our landscape changes in an instant. I noticed it when I was crying in a deluge and Vance made me laugh. As soon as my tears stopped, so did the downpour.
I feel crazy for even thinking it, that I can change and control the weather and landscape, but is that any more crazy than voices in my head, or other worlds or magic or life after death? Or of me, an ordinary girl, needing to die to save not just one world, but two?
As the fire pops and crackles, a silence settles between us, heavy with unspoken words. I try really hard to get my thoughts and emotions under control. The last thing we need is for a storm to brew. His fingers intertwine with mine, a silent gesture of support, and suddenly it’s easier to breathe.
“I wish things were different,” Vance murmurs, his voice low and tinged with regret.
I squeeze his hand, wordlessly offering him the solace and understanding that he so often provides me. I don’t want him to think I hate being here with him when I don’t. I just hate the feeling of being stuck in limbo. Of not really belonging anywhere once more. I really thought I’d found a place at SCU, especially when I met the guys and fell in love, but once again, fate proved I had no place in the world. In any world.
I haven’t even found my place in death.
Or in whatever this is.
“Do you think we’re dead?” I ask Vance softly, staring at the fire to avoid having to study his expression. I’m sure I’ve asked him this question before, but I like to check that his answer hasn’t changed.
Vance’s grip on my hand tightens slightly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against my palm. He does that a lot. The circles thing. I never thought I’d enjoy being touched by another person, let alone that I’d come to crave it.
The question hangs in the air between us, heavy and laden with uncertainty. I can sense his hesitation, and when I sneak a glance at him, the internal struggle is reflected in the furrow of his brow.
After a long pause, Vance finally speaks, his voice hesitant and so unlike his usual confident, commanding, authority in all things. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to make sense of it all since we ended up here. But I don’t think so.” His gaze meets mine, searching for something within me, perhaps an answer neither of us possesses.
A gust of wind rustles through the trees, sending a shiver down my spine and carrying with it the scent of rain. The sky above darkens ominously, clouds swirling in a tumultuous dance that mirrors the turmoil in my heart.
“We might not have all the answers,” Vance continues, his tone gentle yet tinged with resignation. “But we have each other. And maybe...maybe that’s enough for now.”
I turn to look at him fully, taking in the vulnerability etched on his features, the raw honesty in his eyes. He’s carrying his own burdens, his own fears and doubts about our situation.
“I’m scared, Vance,” I admit softly, my words from earlier in the day coming to the forefront of my mind once more.
He pulls me closer, enveloping me in a warm embrace, as the first drops of rain begin to fall from the darkened sky. The storm of uncertainty rages on, but within the circle of his arms, I find a measure of peace.
“We’ll figure this out together,” Vance murmurs against my hair, “but for now, we need to make peace with the situation as it is.”
His words offer a semblance of comfort, grounding me in the midst of the growing tempest. I cling to his presence as if it were a lifeline, the only stable point in a world that seems to shift and twist with my tumultuous emotions. The rain beats down around us, a symphony of nature’s unrest matching the turmoil within my soul.
Vance’s strength is unwavering, a pillar of support amidst the chaos. I draw courage from his steadfast resolve, his belief that together we can weather any storm, whether external or internal. In this strange liminal space, where reality blurs and uncertainties loom large, his faith in our bond is an anchor keeping us tethered to each other.
As the rain intensifies, I realise that perhaps this deluge is not just a reflection of my inner turmoil, but a cleansing force, washing away the doubts and fears that have plagued my mind for as long as I can remember.
I raise my face to the sky, allowing the cool droplets to mingle with my tears, a cathartic release of pent-up emotions.