When I rise, Phedre is not there. This is not wholly unusual, though I find myself trying not to think of the reasons why she is not home, particularly at such an early hour. I have spent too long letting old fears sour me, and I cannot afford to continue to think as such.
My morning passes the same way it always does, telling the hours in a clearing, pushing myself, not allowing myself to become complacent in this place. When I have finished, I make my way to the compound in search of food before I go about the rest of my day.
I am met with the sight of Phedre, cooking in the kitchen. "Good morning, love," I say as I step into the room, before I've fully looked at her, before I see that look that she couldn't hide from me no matter how hard she tried. "What is it?" I ask in hushed tones, reaching out for her.
I looked up into his face, unable to close the distance between us, knowing that if I did the sorrow would consume me and I would be useless for anything but weeping for a length of time. He read somewhat in my expression, I know not what, for I could not even tell what my own face was doing with its features, so removed was I from myself.
When I felt steady enough, sure enough that saying it aloud would not break me, I said it, flat and falsely light. "He is gone." His eyes asked the further question, and I answered it too. "Just this morning. When I woke he was gone."
I didn't need to know of whom it was she spoke; it was fairly plain to see, really. I could think of no one else on this island whose disappearance could rock her so hard.
In some cases when people leave, we can imagine them to be in better places than the island. I comforted myself with Imriel's disappearance so long ago knowing that eventually, though he had much to travel and see still, that he would settle into a happy life with Phedre and myself. With Hyacinthe, we can have no such hope; he was doomed to live many more years bound to his rock until Phedre freed him, and I hated to think of him being stuck there for any longer.
"Ah, love," I say quietly, taking a hesitant step forward towards her. There is not much to say, and I only wish to comfort her, but I fear somehow making it worse.
I could read the reluctance in his posture, and was sure I knew what lay behind it. Wordlessly I held out my arms, and he closed the distance between us in two steps, wrapping his arms around me. I let myself be enveloped, felt the tears begin to squeeze from beneath my closed eyelids, and gave a shaky sigh, taking two handfuls of his tunic and pressing my face to his chest. Though I felt safer by far, more comforted than I had a moment before, the tears only flowed harder with each moment that passed, until I was fairly sobbing into his shirt.
I hold her easily, as I have countless times before. My arms wrap around her and hold her close, one hand sliding gently into her hair. Tipping my head down, I press a soft kiss to the top of her head. I let her cry, stroking her back soothingly as she sobs against my chest.
What do you say, at a time like this? There is nothing, there are no words, and I am not a particularly comforting person in the first place. There were Cassiline words and prayers and proverbs that may bring solace, but right now, they all ring hollow to me.
Though I was wracked with grief, still it was clear to me as Joscelin's arms encircled me how deeply and truly I loved him. My heart felt broken, yet at the same time I was painfully aware how devastated and ruined I would be if I had lost him as well, or if I had never had him here in the first place. "Don't know what I'd do without you," I gasped when I had the breath to do so. "Don't ever leave me," I begged.
"Never, Phedre, never again willingly," I say, to reassure her and because it is true. I cannot promise her that I would never leave, with how this place gives and takes on a whim, but if I have the choice of it, my choice would be to stay. At the crossroads, to choose and choose again, and I will always choose Phedre. Always. "I need you as surely as anything," I say, moving to tilt her tear-streaked face towards mine. "I've learned that I cannot do without you, no matter what."
My morning passes the same way it always does, telling the hours in a clearing, pushing myself, not allowing myself to become complacent in this place. When I have finished, I make my way to the compound in search of food before I go about the rest of my day.
I am met with the sight of Phedre, cooking in the kitchen. "Good morning, love," I say as I step into the room, before I've fully looked at her, before I see that look that she couldn't hide from me no matter how hard she tried. "What is it?" I ask in hushed tones, reaching out for her.
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When I felt steady enough, sure enough that saying it aloud would not break me, I said it, flat and falsely light. "He is gone." His eyes asked the further question, and I answered it too. "Just this morning. When I woke he was gone."
Reply
In some cases when people leave, we can imagine them to be in better places than the island. I comforted myself with Imriel's disappearance so long ago knowing that eventually, though he had much to travel and see still, that he would settle into a happy life with Phedre and myself. With Hyacinthe, we can have no such hope; he was doomed to live many more years bound to his rock until Phedre freed him, and I hated to think of him being stuck there for any longer.
"Ah, love," I say quietly, taking a hesitant step forward towards her. There is not much to say, and I only wish to comfort her, but I fear somehow making it worse.
Reply
Reply
What do you say, at a time like this? There is nothing, there are no words, and I am not a particularly comforting person in the first place. There were Cassiline words and prayers and proverbs that may bring solace, but right now, they all ring hollow to me.
Reply
Reply
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