FictionPress.com - let the words flow| FictionPress.com - let the words flow |
| Home Just In Communities Forums Beta Readers Dictionary Search | Login Register Extras |
CHAPTER 19: THE LUNAR FESTIVAL
Fantasy – Supernatural – Drama/Angst
Rating: M (16+; contains content suitable for mature teens and older; language)
(Thoughts are italics)
He shifted his shoulder and recognized the lumpy feel of the mattress of his twin-sized bed. He snorted softly and closed his eyes, turning onto his side and burying his face in the pillows to absorb the inevitable result of the stinging in his eyes that he couldn't seem to keep at bay. Life seemed to like playing with him and it wouldn't be at all a shock if it had indeed been nothing more than a dream, woven from the longings of his unconsciousness, things he wouldn't admit to when awake.
“So you’re finally conscious.” A voice nearby startled him out of his self pity and he jerked his gaze around, settling on the girl that came into view.
Eric’s eyes fixed on the blue-haired girl who was sitting in a chair beside his bed. His jacket hung loosely on the back of the chair. “Miss Wettimber?”
Tiffany gave Eric a flat stare. “No, your mom.”
Eric’s blue eyes narrowed into a glare, unamused. “What are you doing here? What am I doing here?” Wasn’t I in the park just now?
Tiffany frowned. “Ok, you didn't hit your head that hard. What was it that you were doing in the park anyway? I was on my way here when I found your unconscious body, and then I had to carry you home all by myself…although the maids in this house helped me on the last part: carrying you to your room.”
She carried me home without another person’s help? That’s crazy. And she calls herself a woman? Eric opened his mouth, faltered and then tried again. “Nothing particular… Anyway, thanks for bringing me back here,” he said, one hand going to his head as a sudden spike of pain drove through it. “Ugh…”
“You must have bumped your head against something, and passed out afterwards.”
Eric stared up at his ceiling, brows drawn into a vague frown. No, it was more like the opposite—I must have hit my head after I blacked out.
“What do you remember?” Tiffany asked.
Eric pushed himself up to rest his head against the headboard. He looked down at his lap, ignoring the pulsing behind his eyes and recalled everything that had happened the past several hours. “Everything,” he murmured. “It wasn’t a dream then?”
Tiffany’s expression finally broke into what might have been interpreted as concern. “What do you think was a dream?” she asked, arms crossed over her bosom and staring down at Eric. “I’m sure that you were wide awake the past few hours and not dreaming. That’s what Roger said. He said that you went for a walk.”
“I hope I wasn’t dreaming that I saw my father during my walk in the park,” Eric said, congratulating himself at how steady his voice sounded.
“Well, I can’t tell you that for certain, but you had this picture in the pocket of your jacket,” Tiffany said, surprisingly patient with Eric’s behavior. She passed the photo to Eric.
Eric released his breath with a heavy sigh and finally looked at Tiffany. “So it wasn’t a dream,” Eric said firmly, gazing down at the photo. “This is the solid proof that I talked to my father this afternoon,” he said to himself.
“Alright, you want to hear my opinion on all of this?” Tiffany asked.
“Go ahead,” Eric replied.
“So your father is dead ten years ago, but he was here talking to you earlier today. And he even went to the marketplace with you, and took this picture with you.”
“Correct,” said Eric.
Tiffany stared at him with half-lidded eyes. “Normally I’d think that either you got abducted by aliens from outer space or you just were sleep talking. Knowing you, it’s most likely the latter—”
Eric opened his mouth to protest.
“—but you have that photo, and that’s enough evidence. I believe you,” Tiffany said.
Eric snorted. “Thank you,” he said.
“In fact, I think I can safely say if I’m crazy enough to like you that I’m crazy enough to believe anything you say no matter how unbelievable it may be.” Tiffany grinned at the frown and the awkward blush that appeared on Eric’s face. “So tell me. Where did your father come from, and why and how did he appear and disappear so quickly?” Tiffany was bursting with questions that she didn’t voice, lest she overwhelm Eric into deciding not to reveal anything after all.
“Bear with me, here, but you remember that my father actually died ten years ago?” Eric got rolled eyes in response. “Yes, I know you couldn’t possibly forget, for it was on the headline in the newspaper. I just—this isn’t easy and I need a starting point. Well this afternoon my father told me that he came from this other world to see me. And that world is called heaven. He said that he was offered a chance to be with his special person for one day. As for how he moved between the two worlds…he used a complicated teleporting spell.”
“An angel,” Tiffany made a soft sound and relaxed fully against the back of the chair she sat on. “Your father became an angel after his death, and he’s constantly watching over you.”
“Yeah, well,” Eric said, one hand rubbing his temples as he sat up more fully. His smile grew strained as he remembered the promise he had made to his father. He realized now just how painful it would be to keep…constant reminders that his father was dead, and out of his reach. “I guess everything’s going to go back to normal now.”
“Nothing will ever be normal again, Eric,” Tiffany stated.
Eric’s gaze sharpened on the girl.
Tiffany hated having to voice things the boy already knew. It was simply the fact of having to force Eric to acknowledge them. Her lip curled as she said, “You’ve seen your father again and you learned something from it. You can’t just pretend it never happened.”
Eric sat up straighter, pushing the blankets off and shaking his head—carefully. “Things are going to go back to normal,” he repeated slowly, standing up and looking at the girl. “My father is dead and there’s nothing I can do to change that.”
“Stop being such an idiot, Eric. You know your father isn’t completely gone from our world. Even though he’s not physically here, he’ll always love you and protect you…forever,” Tiffany said. “Did you not say good-bye properly?” she asked, unable to grasp what was really bothering the boy.
Eric blinked. “What are you talking about?” he asked. “I did say good-bye to my father properly or at least tried to.”
“Then why are you so depressed?” Tiffany asked.
“What am I supposed to do, Tiffany? My father wouldn’t have wanted me to mourn his loss and I can’t do that unless I pretend nothing has changed—that he was dead long ago.”
“Your father wouldn’t have wanted you to do that either. At least I would think he didn’t,” Tiffany said. “Things are different now, Eric, but it’s not a bad kind of different.”
Eric sighed and leaned against the wall. “If I let myself chase my father’s shadow here, I’ll never know how to be normal again.”
Tiffany shook her head at that. “You’re not chasing his shadow, you’re not mourning him; you’re honoring his memory and trying to find out things about him.” She eyed Eric’s look and resisted the urge to smack her stubborn friend upside his head. “Why do you want to pretend like nothing ever happened? You were given a rare chance, idiot!”
Eric bit his bottom lip, knowing Tiffany was right, but unwilling to give up on his argument just yet. He deprived his face of expression so that Tiffany wouldn’t know what he was thinking. “Things are different,” he said carefully. “But I guess with time, the difference fades and we create a new kind of normalcy.”
Tiffany allowed herself a half-smile. “Figures you’d phrase it like that,” she muttered. “So are you alright now?” she asked.
Eric blinked, caught off guard by the question. He looked around his apartment, still feeling the sharp loss of his father, but warmed now by Tiffany’s presence here and making a promise to himself that he would honor his father’s memory instead of forgetting it. “Um…yeah. I think. So why are you here and where is Roger?”
“Roger just came back from the meeting with his students. He’s in the living room right now, talking to Chris and Anna,” Tiffany answered. “As for me, I’m here to celebrate your birthday.”
Eric was surprised. “What? How did you know today’s my birthday?”
“He told me about it and asked me to come over tonight,” Tiffany grinned.
“He did?” Eric asked, disbelievingly. “So he remembered my birthday after all…” Eric murmured, his eyes wincing at the thought. Not only had he remembered my birthday, he even invited friends over to celebrate for my birthday. Then he really must care about me…a lot. God, I’m such an idiot. Eric sighed, rubbing at his eyes with his palms.
“Hey! Stop being so depressed!” Tiffany reached one hand over and shook Eric’s shoulder, interrupting the boy’s thoughts. “God, you’re such an emo boy!”
Eric gave her one of his Glare of Death, but before he could say anything else, the door was thrown open and a very cheerful Roger ran into the room, followed by Chris and Anna. Roger placed his gaze on Eric.
“I see you’re already awake. Good. Come out when you’re ready, but hurry up because we’re going to the Lunar Festival now.” With that, the redhead turned and left the room.
“Hi everyone…” Anna said and gave a smile to Tiffany and Eric, who returned the smile.
Chris turned to Eric. “Hey, I heard you hit your head… How are you feeling right now?” the blond asked, his light-blue eyes showed concern in them.
“Heh. All right. I guess.” Eric gave a small, tired smile.
“Okay. Good.” Chris nodded once before smiling sweetly. “I brought this first-aid gel for you to use for your head. It’s really good, but it’s up to you if you want to use it…” The blond fished out a tiny bottle from a pocket of his blue jeans and handed it to Eric.
“Thanks.” Eric smiled sincerely at Chris. Opening the tiny bottle, he applied the gel to the back of his head.
Tiffany glanced at her watch and stood up. “I think we should let Eric get changed for the Lunar Festival,” she said, grabbing Eric’s jacket from the back of the chair and then giving it to the boy. “Here’s your jacket back.”
“I agree. Eric needs to change into a better outfit,” Anna said, smirking. “Come along, Chris.” She grabbed a corner of Chris’s shirt and half-dragged him out of Eric’s bedroom.
Tiffany winked once at Eric. “Put on something nice, birthday boy.” With that, she left the bedroom and closed the door behind her.
With a smile, Eric put the image of him and his father on top of his desk, making a promise to himself to get a picture frame as soon as possible. Then going to his wardrobe, Eric picked out something he thought would look good on him, and then stripped himself of his garments. He resisted the urge to blush as he pulled on a pair of black slacks, a dark blue button-down silk shirt over a black T-shirt. Yeah, he was a little overdressed…but damn, he looked good and besides, it was his twenty-first birthday. He chuckled lightly to himself as he took a moment to fix his hair.
What a day. Who would’ve thought that things would turn out like this? But I have to admit, I’m content the way things are now. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he strolled out the door and headed to the living room where everyone else was.
He leaned against the wall, smirking at the sight of his four friends sitting on the sofa and chatting excitedly. The redhead looked up, saw Eric and grinned at the boy.
“Ready?” Roger asked.
Eric gave a smile and nodded once.
“Alright. Guys, we’re going now.” Roger interrupted the conversation between Chris and the two girls before getting up and heading outside. Eric followed the redhead, and so did the others—the latter took slightly longer, as they were still chatting on the same subject.
A carriage was waiting outside the house to take them to the Lunar Festival. Roger opened the door for them. Chris and Anna climbed in first, and the two decided to sit across from each other. Tiffany chose to sit next to Anna. Eric came in last and sat down in the only space available, which was next to Chris and right across from Tiffany. Roger closed the door and went to sit next to the driver.
Tiffany glanced over at Eric, blinked in mild surprise, and let her eyes roam over the brunet. “Well don’t you look nice.”
“You too,” Eric complimented. It was the truth. Tiffany did look great in that dark blue dress.
Eric recalled the promise to himself that he was going to get a picture frame as soon as possible.
“I need a picture frame for that photo,” Eric said.
Tiffany looked up at the boy, reading his mind. “Yeah, let’s do that first thing we get there.” She grinned.
“Mm.” Eric nodded before giving a smile in return. His blue eyes turned a gentle shade as he happily imagined the photo placed inside a wooden frame, sitting on top of his desk, in his bedroom.
“Wow…” Tiffany murmured. “The ice-king is actually starting to smile more often now?”
Eric gave her a slightly annoyed look. “People change, Miss Wettimber. And just like you said, changes aren’t always bad… Unless you want me to revert back to the way I was?” He glanced at Tiffany.
"No." The girl shook her head. "Don’t get me wrong. I like the way you are now."
“Good.” Eric smirked.
“Your father must be an amazing person to have such a good influence on you.” Tiffany sighed, resting her chin on one hand.
Yes, he really was a good father. He made me feel truly happy for the first time within the past ten years of my life.
Just when Eric began to miss his father again, the carriage skidded to a halt.
“Yay! We’re here! We’re here!” Anna squeaked. She was the first to get out of the carriage and also the first to dash into the crowd of festival goers.
“Hey! Where are you going?” Chris yelled after the girl. “Hold on! We should wait for everyone else…” the blond boy jumped off the carriage and raced after Anna, apparently afraid of loosing her in the insane amount of people at the festival. Roger saw all of this and shook his head at the two that were now lost in the crowd.
“I don’t get that girl. She is always happy,” Eric said, hopping off the carriage. He then offered Tiffany a hand to grasp as she climbed off the car.
“No, not always. There are days that she’d be in a bad mood too,” Roger said. “You, in the other hand, are too depressed all the time. You need to cheer up.”
Eric gave Roger one of his Death of Glare, but only succeeded in making Tiffany snicker.
“Awww, there there, it’s okay,” Tiffany cooed, patting the brunet’s mop of hair, trying to ease the tension. Absently, she noted the fine texture of the brown strands. Curiosity overtaking her, Tiffany ran her hand through those same brown strands, comparing its lighter qualities to the other men that she dated in the past.
“Tiffany?” Eric asked. He didn’t dare to breathe as Tiffany stared at him strangely. The festival’s lighting had suddenly dimmed, making a stranger of the girl. Out of corner of his eyes, Eric could swear he saw Roger smirked before the red haired man turned to start a casual conversation the carriage driver. After a moment, Tiffany seemed to come back to her normal self. She cleared her throat before smiling at a puzzled Eric.
“Let’s go buy your picture frame, mm?” she asked, to which Eric nodded. Clutching Eric’s elbow, she began tugging him toward the festival. Roger glanced at Eric and winked once before focusing on his conversation with the driver.
Eric felt uncomfortable in the formal clothing he had chosen and this feeling was heightened by the stares he kept getting. He was used to being looked at, scrutinized, but for some reasons, these stares felt entirely different. They were not the glares of people who thought he was arrogant because he acted too calm—in reality, he was generally apathetic to the things happening around him, which people often seemed to interpret as calm—nor were they the impressed gazes of his elders. They were something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
He was about to either go insane or flee from the crowd of girls that seemed to be inching toward him—were those predatory gleams in their eyes?—when Tiffany began to pull him by his hand. Never had he been so relieved to have Tiffany with him. That was, until Tiffany’s shoulders started shaking as she fought hard not to laugh.
Eric tightened his grip on Tiffany’s smaller hand. “It’s not funny, Tiffany.”
“I-I’m not laughing.”
Eric scowled. “Yes, you are.”
“I’m not.” Tiffany fought to get herself under control, unable to hide her grin. Glancing behind at the brunet, Tiffany’s grin grew wider as Eric flinched at the overwhelming predatory stares he was getting from women of all ages around them. Lifting her free hand, she gently rubbed the boy’s back.
“It’s okaaay, Eric. The bad girls will go awaaaaay.”
“I hate you so much.”
Chuckling lightly, Tiffany continued to wander slowly around the festival while holding hands with Eric. After a long moment, she leaned over and whispered in the brunet’s ear.
“I never knew you could be so scared of your fan girls, Eric.”
“Not another word.”
“I think I like it. Maybe I should drag you out to public more often.”
“Don’t think I won’t kill you. It’ll be justifiable homicide.”
“Hey look! That 45-year-old lady is back! Ew, and she’s blowing kisses at you!”
“Tiffany, shut UP!”
“You’re adorable, Eric.”
“And I swear I’m going to murder you in your sleep. You’re having too much fun in this…”
“Hey! Ice cream!” Cutting off a surprised Eric, Tiffany darted to a nearby stand and bought herself two orders of ice cream. She flashed a genuine smile, eagerly tasting them with her mouth.
“They always make the best ice cream during the festivals!” she declared, licking the ice creams and humming happily. Eric stared as the girl he likes, who he probably will never have a chance to be with, happily gorge down food in front of him.
“You got ice cream on your face,” Eric said. He raised one hand, his fingertips brushing away a dirty spot on Tiffany’s cheek. Tiffany blinked and stopped eating her ice creams, surprised by the gesture.
Eric regretted it immediately and retrieved his hand, frowning angrily at himself. Damn it! Why couldn’t you just keep your hand to yourself?
“Um…thanks,” Tiffany said, giving him a smile.
Eric felt slightly relieved and decided to look around them to see if there was anything interesting. As if on cue, a volley of cheers rose up over the crowd. Eric glanced curiously towards the commotion.
Prize booths?
“Let’s go to the gaming booths,” Tiffany said. Finishing the last remains of her ice cream, she strode towards the gaming booths. Eric followed her closely, determined to not lose sight of her.
Eventually, the crowd thinned and they found themselves standing in front of a small booth that seemed to have stuffed animals and other things around it. There were some pins set up toward the back of the booth and the sign that he glanced at stated that if you could knock all the pins down, you would get a prize. A silly game, he decided.
Eric found himself being dragged toward it. He watched silently, unable to crush the excitement in Tiffany’s eyes by telling her that he thought it was a children’s game.
Tiffany knocked all the pins down. Eric’s eyes went wide. She just beat all of them at once with that ridiculous strength of hers!
She glanced at him, but he made no suggestion as to what prize she should select, so eventually she chose a stuffed cat, which she promptly handed to him. “It reminds me of you.” Eric didn’t know what to make of that. “Now it’s your turn,” she said.
He stared at her as she dropped one of the projectiles—a ball—in his hand. “No, you go ahead.” He tried to hand it back, but Tiffany shook her head and directed him toward the pins. “I don’t want to,” he hissed in annoyance; his protests were ignored.
“What? Are those muscles for show?” Tiffany teased. Eric popped a vein.
He clutched firmly at the ball, injecting a small bit of concentrated spiraling wind to it. Then he threw it at the pins.
Tiffany heard an enormous bang as the ball went berserk and attacked the pins. It continued to spin for another five seconds even after all the pins were knocked down.
Tiffany turned to Eric, an unhappy scowl on her face. “Show off,” she muttered.
“Not really.” Eric shrugged. He chose a stuffed dog for the prize and handed it to her.
Tiffany was about to retort when a shadow loomed over them. They found themselves looking at a group of guys around their age, but taller and unfriendly looking.
“What have we here? Are you teaching your girlfriend how to throw a ball?”
Eric gave them an annoyed look before ignoring them.
“Do you know these people, Eric?” Tiffany asked.
“No,” Eric lied, just to spite those guys. “Let’s go, Tiffany.” They attempted to pass them, but the guys moved with them, grinning with unholy intent.
“Hiding behind your girlfriend there?” the leader of the gang demanded.
Eric glared at them coldly. He could deal with snarky comments, but could never stand being called a coward. Tiffany nudged him in the other direction, signaling that he should avoid a confrontation. He gave the gang a look of disdain before moving toward the opposite direction with her.
“Maybe your girlfriend here would rather spend some time with a REAL man rather than—”
“Get your hands off her.”
It wasn’t the words that made Eric react; it was the hand that had reached for Tiffany. After that, things were a blur. Somehow he had knocked the guy’s hand away from Tiffany and was now looming over him. Although an easy-smile was fixed to his face, Eric’s blue eyes were cold enough to give even Tiffany the shivers. Blinking in surprise, Tiffany seemed relieved that she was not on the receiving end of that look.
The guy stared at Eric for a moment before collecting himself. “Haha you don’t scare me at all—”
“I’m sorry you must not have heard me.” Eric stepped closer, seizing the guy’s shirt in his fist and leaning close. His cheerful smile widened, but when coupled with the steel in his eyes…
…Frankly, he looked terrifying.
Stepping back as she was released from the guy’s grip, Tiffany folded her arms over her bosom and watched those unfamiliar emotions cross Eric’s face. The brunet looked like he could happily kill with that smile on his face.
Showing his teeth in what was probably the most terrifying smile the brunet had ever given; he calmly lifted the other boy off the ground and let him dangle awkwardly from his fist.
“I said, Leave. Her. Alone.” Eric chuckled under his breath, making Tiffany fairly sure that the guy was going to wet himself. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that, now will you?”
The guy frantically shook his head.
“Good. Now Leave.”
The moment Eric set the other boy down, the guy darted away. He was soon followed by his gang.
“You know, I had that under control,” Tiffany said slowly. “If you hadn’t taken over, I would have beaten the shit out of him anyway.”
“I know.” Eric’s downcast eyes were apologetic. “I’m sorry but I really, really didn’t like seeing him put his hands on you.”
“It’s okay. I know you’re just being overprotective again,” Tiffany said, and started walking ahead. She was clearly feeling a bit annoyed.
“Tiffany—” Following the girl, Eric ground his teeth. “Dammit, I’m sorry, ok? I couldn’t help it! I was—”
Wheeling around, Tiffany glared at the boy. “What? Don’t tell me you were jealous.”
Eric opened his mouth to deny the comment, and then clicked it shut and looked away. Tiffany’s eyebrows rose.
“...Eric?”
“You just don’t get it, do you?” the brunet said, looking back at the girl with anger simmering in his eyes. “How did you feel when I have a bunch of girls attracted to me?”
Not really expecting that as an answer, Tiffany tensed. “I don’t know, Eric,” she lied. “And how the hell is this about me again? God, why does it take an interrogation to get anything out of you? Would it kill you to actually say what you’re thinking for once in your freaking li—”
Eric abruptly leapt on the blue haired girl, shoving her shoulders to the wall behind her, fury in his blue eyes. Tiffany’s voice cut off with a squeak. What the hell—? Thank goodness they weren’t on a busy street because Eric’s action would have attracted unwanted attention.
“FINE, Miss Wettimber! You want me to say what I’m thinking? YES! I’M FUCKING JEALOUS! Are you happy now?” He didn’t give the shocked girl a chance to reply before he continued. “How can I not be upset when I want to spend time with you, somebody comes in and ruins it!”
“Yeah I get your point, but—”
“I DON’T CARE!” Eric’s grip on Tiffany’s shoulder tightened, and he leaned down, placing his face inches away from the girl’s. “Just let me finish! And, dammit, you’d be jealous too, if you were in my place. How am I supposed to feel if a guy’s trying to take advantage of the girl I—”
Tiffany’s eyes grew wide as she stared up at the pale boy above her. Blood draining out of Eric’s face, the boy swallowed a lump in his throat and took a couple of steps back. Immediately taking a step forward, Tiffany locked the brunet with an earnest gaze.
“The girl you what, Eric?” she questioned, her voice low. Swallowing again, the brunet looked away.
“N-nothing. Just forget it.” Eric tried to walk away from her, but Tiffany’s hands shot out and gripped the boy’s waist, keeping him in place. Ignoring the blushes that rose on both their faces at the action, Tiffany pressed the issue.
“Eric, what were you going to say? I’m the girl you…what?”
The brunet said nothing for a long moment, refusing to meet Tiffany’s gaze. He didn’t want to say he loved her because he noticed that the people he loved usually end up dead. And the last thing Eric wanted was Tiffany end up dying like his father. Taking a shaky breath, Eric squared his shoulders.
“You’re…a close friend, Tiffany,” he said, bangs shadowing his eyes. “I…care about you.”
The blue haired girl frowned. “Being my close friend and getting that jealous doesn’t make any sense, you know.”
Eric made an annoyed noise, still refusing to look Tiffany in the eye. “Just drop it, Tiffany,” he requested, his voice suddenly soft. Tiffany hesitated, and then released her grip on the boy.
An awkward silence settled between them as they walked side-by-side. Unknown to Tiffany, an inner battle was raging in Eric’s mind between his conscious and himself.
How will you ever know unless you take a chance? Are you planning to keep quiet about the fact that you love her until it’s too late?
Look, I’m going to say this. If you keep it to yourself, give up on her and she ends up with someone else, will you be satisfied? It will happen, if you say nothing. She’ll get married, have kids, whatever, and you never even took a chance.
If that happens, will you be able to live with yourself?
Gritting his teeth, he stepped forward.
“I’ve decided.” Eric broke the silence.
“Huh?” Tiffany stood there, puzzled. “Decided what?”
Eric stepped forward again, so that he could look closely at Tiffany.
“I changed my mind,” he said. “I’m not giving up on life…and on you.”
Tiffany frowned. “Then answer my question: How do you feel about me?”
“I...”
As if sensing the brunet’s difficulty, Tiffany stepped even closer and lifted a hand, sliding it along Eric’s cheek. The brunette closed his eyes briefly at the contact. “Tell me, Eric.”
The brunet’s lips pursed briefly as he reached up to take hold of the hand on his cheek. Opening his eyes, he stared defiantly into the girl's gaze.
“I would die for you, Tiffany,” he replied quietly. “I should assume that that would tell you enough.”
Slowly, a warm light entered the girl’s gaze, and a grin appeared on her face. “Yeah, I guess it does, doesn’t it.” Her grin grew wider, and Tiffany’s free hand rose to cradle the brunet’s face. “And you know what, Eric? I’m really glad to hear that.”
Snorting, Eric lifted an eyebrow. “And why is that?”
“Because it would suck to be the only one who felt that way.”
She would die for me too…?
Tiffany felt the boy tremble underneath her hand. She looked up and was stunned at the sight of tears in his eyes. Tears, true tears, running silently down Eric’s face---tears gleaming, aqueous, in his blue eyes and dampening his cheeks. Tiffany didn’t expect this kind of reaction and therefore she was shocked.
“Don’t worry about it,” the boy said, rubbing his moist face with the back of his hand. He snorted as his nose ran, flushed with embarrassment. “Just that everyone that I cared about had end up dead…” His voice hitched with a jagged sob. It made the tightness in Tiffany’s bosom redouble with a fiendish vengeance. “I’m going to protect you with my life. I’ll NEVER, EVER let anyone die again.”
Tiffany did the only thing she could think of: she held the tall boy to her, allowing him to bury his face in her neck and shoulder and cry.
…One last time.
One last time…I want to believe…in you.
“I want to get a picture frame for my father,” Eric said quietly, his eyes dark and lifeless. He twined one hand with Tiffany’s, his expression so blank as to age him—more than making him an adult, it made him old.
His father, Xander Fallenstream, had looked like that, Tiffany thought. Tears on his face, blue eyes dim, old and young at the same time. The resemblance was uncanny, and why not? Xander and Eric were not so unlike each other, past the surface similarities. Tiffany could only hope that he wouldn’t leave so young.
“Sure, let’s go get it now.” Tiffany smiled gently at the boy.
Then the pair walked back to the festival wandering around looking for a photo frame. Eventually, they found a stand that was selling miscellaneous items, including photo frames. Eric picked a plain wooden frame and bought it.
“So, what do you want to do now?” Eric asked.
Fssssssssssssh... BOOM!
The two glanced up as a brilliant green firework exploded in the night sky. Smiling, Tiffany started walking towards the filling fields nearby.
“Care to watch the fireworks with me?” She sent an insolent smile over her shoulder at the brunet.
“Sure...” His blush increasing, Eric fell into step beside Tiffany. We sort of confessed and now we’re watching fireworks together. This festival thing has kind of turned into...a date, hasn’t it?
Finding a spot among the spectators, Eric and Tiffany settled down in the cool grass and watched the fireworks blossom above their heads. Eric leaned back, hands supporting him from behind, the stuffed cat and the photo frame resting on his lap.
Tiffany turned her face back to the sky, unknowingly letting the light of the fireworks play across her delicate features. Eric, too, glanced up at the sky.
Warmth settled in Eric’s heart as they interlaced their fingers and continued watching the fireworks. A full, genuine smile spread across the boy’s features, and he tightened his grip on Tiffany’s hand. Sure, things hadn’t worked out as well as they could have, but for the first time, he had a real hope for the future.
He glanced at Tiffany as the girl began idly playing with his fingers. His smile growing, Eric leaned over and pressed a kiss to the Tiffany’s temple. In return, Tiffany shifted closer and leaned against Eric’s side.
Happy for the first time in his life, Eric squeezed Tiffany’s hand.
For now...it was enough.
