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enlivenedaltruist
Chrysi can’t breathe.
This isn’t exactly something new, being with Cheriour always makes her a little breathless, always squeezes at her heart with a bittersweet grip, but right now everything is all wrong. Cheriour is hurt and swathed in darkness instead of beaming like a sun, angry and upset and spewing forth wicked, inhuman syllables instead of his quirky, soft lilt. Cheriour is stained and suffering, and Chrysi can’t just watch.
He goes stiff when she wraps her arms around him, but she’s the one who has to bite her lip to keep from crying out. Her first thought is that the blackness surrounding him is burning her, but that thought is quickly dashed by the realization that he isn’t hot; he’s cold.
…No, cold doesn’t quite cut it. This goes beyond a mere chill; this is a state that viciously tears at any semblance of warmth, this is the greedy iciness of drifting out, unprotected, across space. This is what it feels like, she realizes, to be bereft of even the slightest twinkling, distant star as a black hole claws you in. She presses her cheek against his shoulder and blesses the brief flickers of heat left behind by the tears slipping out.
Chrysi forces in a breath, wheezing slightly at the burning sensation in her lungs, and begins to talk.
“I love you, you know,” she tells him quietly. He’s already ramrod straight, but she imagines that under normal conditions this admission would wind him up as tight as an old pocket watch. “I have for a while. Maybe since the very beginning. And…and not as a brother. Though you’ve probably figured that out by now. I…didn’t fake being happy that well, when you told me. Or maybe I did, and this…this just shocked you all the more for it.”
“X’getau…” Cheriour tries to interrupt, or maybe it’s just a general exclamation of surprise, but she doesn’t let him.
“I don’t…I’m not expecting, anything, I promise.” Chrysi squeezes her eyes shut and sucks in another breath. It feels like a mouthful of needles going down. “I don’t think I ever expected anything. But I love you. It’s weird, isn’t it? I mean…” She’s trembling now, damn it, though she’s not sure if it’s out of emotion or lack of heat. “Isn’t there suppose to be some biological imperative to avoid situations like these? I read about that, somewhere. We search out mates with high genetic variability, to pass on to our children.” She frowns, slightly. “Or we should, at least.
“Maybe…Maybe it’s because I don’t want to have children with you, that this happened. I mean, having a family with you would be a dream come true, but I can’t…I can’t think of…” Another laborious, stinging intake of air. “I can imagine kissing you, and holding you, and being together always, but nothing…more. I used to think that it was because I knew you didn’t feel comfortable with that stuff, that it was just me loving and accepting all of you. And maybe that’s part of it, maybe that’s a big part of it…but…but at the core, at the root of it all, maybe it’s because I’m not in love with you.”
She licks her lips, and realizes that she’s rambling, and not just to him. She’s on some sort of precipice, teetering on the brink of a realization she still didn’t quite comprehend. Chrysi forges onward, for both their sakes. “I love you, Cheriour Leclair. I think I love you more than I ever will—than I ever could—love anybody else. It’s terrifying, really. I look at you, and my heart just sort of breaks a little, every time, because it’s just so full, and that only makes me love you more. It’s l-like…” She falters for a moment, forcing in another lungful. “It’s like having everything precious to you made material and forged into a single person. And you’re not perfect, I know you aren’t, but that just makes you even dearer to me. I want to help you become the best you can be, the happiest, the strongest. I want to do anything and everything for you, and I would, if you’d just let me.”
“X’getau,” Cheriour tries again, his hellishly freezing arms wrapping around her.
But she can’t stop, not until it’s all out. “I-I heard something, somewhere, or read it, m-maybe—I’m not sure. Me not knowing a quote, h-how funny, huh?” Her lips curve into a weak shadow of her normal smile. “But...it was about what a soulmate was. How it's like a best friend, but more. It's the one person in the world that knows you better than anyone else. It's someone who makes you a better person, because they inspire you. Someone who you carry with you forever. It's the one person who knew you, and accepted you, and believed in you before anyone else did or when no one else would. And no matter what happens…you'll always love them.” She’s crying again, now, but her smile is stronger. “Is it okay to think that’s what you are to me? Brother isn’t enough, I’m sorry, but it isn’t, a-and…and neither is friend or lover and I’m horrible but—”
“Chrysi,” Cheriour says gently, hugging her tightly as she sobs, because his shoulder is warm and peachy beneath her cheek and thank goodness.
Thank goodness.
She hasn’t lost him.
This isn’t exactly something new, being with Cheriour always makes her a little breathless, always squeezes at her heart with a bittersweet grip, but right now everything is all wrong. Cheriour is hurt and swathed in darkness instead of beaming like a sun, angry and upset and spewing forth wicked, inhuman syllables instead of his quirky, soft lilt. Cheriour is stained and suffering, and Chrysi can’t just watch.
He goes stiff when she wraps her arms around him, but she’s the one who has to bite her lip to keep from crying out. Her first thought is that the blackness surrounding him is burning her, but that thought is quickly dashed by the realization that he isn’t hot; he’s cold.
…No, cold doesn’t quite cut it. This goes beyond a mere chill; this is a state that viciously tears at any semblance of warmth, this is the greedy iciness of drifting out, unprotected, across space. This is what it feels like, she realizes, to be bereft of even the slightest twinkling, distant star as a black hole claws you in. She presses her cheek against his shoulder and blesses the brief flickers of heat left behind by the tears slipping out.
Chrysi forces in a breath, wheezing slightly at the burning sensation in her lungs, and begins to talk.
“I love you, you know,” she tells him quietly. He’s already ramrod straight, but she imagines that under normal conditions this admission would wind him up as tight as an old pocket watch. “I have for a while. Maybe since the very beginning. And…and not as a brother. Though you’ve probably figured that out by now. I…didn’t fake being happy that well, when you told me. Or maybe I did, and this…this just shocked you all the more for it.”
“X’getau…” Cheriour tries to interrupt, or maybe it’s just a general exclamation of surprise, but she doesn’t let him.
“I don’t…I’m not expecting, anything, I promise.” Chrysi squeezes her eyes shut and sucks in another breath. It feels like a mouthful of needles going down. “I don’t think I ever expected anything. But I love you. It’s weird, isn’t it? I mean…” She’s trembling now, damn it, though she’s not sure if it’s out of emotion or lack of heat. “Isn’t there suppose to be some biological imperative to avoid situations like these? I read about that, somewhere. We search out mates with high genetic variability, to pass on to our children.” She frowns, slightly. “Or we should, at least.
“Maybe…Maybe it’s because I don’t want to have children with you, that this happened. I mean, having a family with you would be a dream come true, but I can’t…I can’t think of…” Another laborious, stinging intake of air. “I can imagine kissing you, and holding you, and being together always, but nothing…more. I used to think that it was because I knew you didn’t feel comfortable with that stuff, that it was just me loving and accepting all of you. And maybe that’s part of it, maybe that’s a big part of it…but…but at the core, at the root of it all, maybe it’s because I’m not in love with you.”
She licks her lips, and realizes that she’s rambling, and not just to him. She’s on some sort of precipice, teetering on the brink of a realization she still didn’t quite comprehend. Chrysi forges onward, for both their sakes. “I love you, Cheriour Leclair. I think I love you more than I ever will—than I ever could—love anybody else. It’s terrifying, really. I look at you, and my heart just sort of breaks a little, every time, because it’s just so full, and that only makes me love you more. It’s l-like…” She falters for a moment, forcing in another lungful. “It’s like having everything precious to you made material and forged into a single person. And you’re not perfect, I know you aren’t, but that just makes you even dearer to me. I want to help you become the best you can be, the happiest, the strongest. I want to do anything and everything for you, and I would, if you’d just let me.”
“X’getau,” Cheriour tries again, his hellishly freezing arms wrapping around her.
But she can’t stop, not until it’s all out. “I-I heard something, somewhere, or read it, m-maybe—I’m not sure. Me not knowing a quote, h-how funny, huh?” Her lips curve into a weak shadow of her normal smile. “But...it was about what a soulmate was. How it's like a best friend, but more. It's the one person in the world that knows you better than anyone else. It's someone who makes you a better person, because they inspire you. Someone who you carry with you forever. It's the one person who knew you, and accepted you, and believed in you before anyone else did or when no one else would. And no matter what happens…you'll always love them.” She’s crying again, now, but her smile is stronger. “Is it okay to think that’s what you are to me? Brother isn’t enough, I’m sorry, but it isn’t, a-and…and neither is friend or lover and I’m horrible but—”
“Chrysi,” Cheriour says gently, hugging her tightly as she sobs, because his shoulder is warm and peachy beneath her cheek and thank goodness.
Thank goodness.
She hasn’t lost him.
