Eustace (
flamekthunder) wrote in
isleofavalon2021-12-02 02:30 pm
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ninth shot ⊗ closed december catchall
🧙 WHO: Eustace and planned CR
⚔️️ WHAT: various things
🕒 WHEN: throughout December
🗺️ WHERE: various
⚠️ WARNINGS: none
[Closed catchall log for the month. Feel free to PM or contact at
laenavesse to plot something!]
⚔️️ WHAT: various things
🕒 WHEN: throughout December
🗺️ WHERE: various
⚠️ WARNINGS: none
[Closed catchall log for the month. Feel free to PM or contact at
no subject
When she pulls back to look at him, he's managed to school his expressions so that he just has his usual soft gaze that he carries only for her, one that changes to some surprise.]
A gift?
[...? —Ah.]
For my birthday? You didn't have to...
no subject
I wanted to. You didn't have to get me that necklace, but you did.
[And said necklace is curled up on a table nearby, where she'd placed all of her things before they climbed into bed. She has never missed a day wearing it since.]
I'm pretty proud of this one, so I bet you'll love it.
[With that, she replaces her finger with her lips on his, pressing them lightly together.]
We should get some sleep, yeah? Going to get up bright and early tomorrow to get started on breakfast.
no subject
All right...but there is something I want to show you first.
no subject
You're not going to have to get up, are you?
[She rolls halfway over him as she half mutters, half whines about it, pinning him to the bed underneath her.]
no subject
No it doesn't.
[Eustace gazes into her eyes for a moment, holding the image in his mind before he he smiles and then glances off to the side.]
Look.
[When she looks around, she'll find what looks to be snow falling lightly around them. However, it's not just any snow. It seems to flicker with light, as if lightning is crackling through the snowflakes. And when they land on their bare skin, it's warm to the touch.]
It's not perfect, but this is what I've been working on.
no subject
It's perfect.
[And her gaze lingers on him first, her bewilderment fading to admiration. For everything that the snow is, he is that and a thousand things more. It's hard to think of a time in Camelot when she'd been happier than this, and the one time that she did at any point felt like such a faded, distant, but cherished memory now, sitting somewhere in the back of her mind, waiting for when she would return to that reality.
For now, this was her reality, and it was everything and more than she could have asked for.
Tifa can't help the giggle that rises from her chest and falls past her lips, and it snaps her attention back up to the snow.]
This is...
[She closes her eyes, focusing on the warmth of the magical snow as they flutter over her skin.]
Happy birthday.
no subject
If only...he could genuinely claim it was for her.
So when her eyes close, there's that hidden pained expression, before he turns closer, lips finding hers before he murmurs against them with a small, fleeting smile.]
Thank you...Tifa.
[His arms wrap around her as he kisses her again, deeper this time, the glittering snow falling gently around them.
In truth...while in a way the snow was made for her, it was his last attempt to strengthen his magic, to do anything he could to strengthen the weakening bond between him and Eria. As hopeful as he is, he has a feeling this is it.
So at least he can give her one more beautiful memory of them together.]
no subject
She deepens the kiss with a low, pleased noise in the back of her throat, and pulls him close with her legs locking around his, hands spreading over the muscles across his back as she breathes him in deep, as if she herself is committing every fibre of his being to memory all over again. As if everything they'd just done hadn't been enough for her.
And just like every other night, she'll treat him as if this night will be their last...
At some point—she would have no idea when—Tifa had fallen asleep against him, so relaxed and flushed and basking in the afterglow that it might have been mid-kiss, muttering sweet nothings against him. He'll feel her entire body melt into his, her arms wrapped around him loosening as she falls into deep slumber, her uneven breathing slowly turning into a steady rhythm, and a smile on her lips.]
no subject
And when she eventually falls asleep, he just holds her in his arms, eyes closed as he listens to the change in her breathing, remaining silent as he takes in her scent and lightly strokes her arm. He can feel that now familiar, unwanted heavy pressure of sleep weighing down on him, as if Eria had worked hard to give him this time. And he continues to try to fight it off, afraid that if he succumbs to it he won't awaken.
But he can feel Eria's presence nearby, senses her own sadness and he wants to comfort her as well. But the moment he lifts his head to find her, she disappears again. They've already had their moments, but he can understand. She's afraid each one is the last one and she likely has a better understanding of things. For her to now want to stay away, as if unable to bear being in the same room as him...
It must be close.
Eustace turns his attention back to Tifa, gazing down at her peaceful, sleeping face. Slowly he touches the side of her face, brushing back her hair before his knuckle lightly traces down her eye to her nose to her lips to her chin. No matter how often he stares at it, he always seems to find something new that entrances him. To make him feel something so strongly...
...It can only be that, isn't it? It's no longer "just" attraction or being caught up in the feeling. It's also still too "new," so perhaps it's better to say it's the beginning. Yet even just a beginning would need to pass over so many high hurdles. Can he really admit to it? Or would it be better to not?
No, he already knows the answer. Tonight just confirmed it.
As feels sleep overpowering him, Eustace lightly kisses the top of her head and whispers softly in a half trembling breath.]
...I'm sorry, Tifa. I wish...we could have been together a little longer. [A small sigh as his voice grows quieter.] But thank you...for letting me love you for as long as I did...even though I didn't realize it until it was too late.
[Love. Passionate love.
A feeling he never thought he'd have for someone.
Not like this, not towards someone he felt such intimacy for. But it would be hard to deny that that's exactly what he feels towards Tifa, a feeling much stronger compared to those he considers as part of his new family. It's with these thoughts and feelings that he finally succumbs to sleep, one that would last throughout the night...
But by some miracle, he wakes up before she does and he heaves a giant sigh in disbelief. He still feels groggy, as if he might collapse again any moment. So he takes the chance and lightly kisses Tifa first on the top of her head, then her eyes, to her lips, each one soft, almost feathery.]
no subject
His voice had echoed things in her head, things that she wishes she could have said back, but she could never find hers. Any time those words tried to form, she would find herself choking up, as if all the air had left her lungs and her brain could no longer string a proper sentence together to tell him how she really felt. To say that she was glad that she, too, could find it in her to... find love... in whatever form this took, and that she was sorry for ever doubting it, or fearing it, or trying to run away from it.
Tifa has no idea what that dream meant, but the only saving grace in waking up from it is what she had woken up to him still here with her.
And there's an unfamiliarly strong, overwhelming sense of affection so intense that she can barely parse words. It starts in her core, burning a stream of fire through her veins to finally settle in her chest. It almost hurts how badly she wants to be close to him, or how tightly she wants to hold him that she might fuse them together into one instead. It's something that refuses to let him go and keeps him rooted where he is with his arms around her, and hers around him, their lips peppering across each other's skin.
She's happy to stay like this a little while longer, and she does, not saying anything besides a lazy, quiet good morning somewhere in between the many kisses.
Who knows how much time has passed—and who cares, honestly? It could have been hours at that point, and she wouldn't mind—before she finally musters up the energy to open her eyes and lift her head to look at him, just as her stomach gives a low grumble, and even then, she only offers an apologetic smile.]
... You hungry?
no subject
Yet when it finally ends and she asks if he's hungry, he wants to say no. He wants to keep her to him, as if hoping she could be his anchor to remain in this world. But those are just fleeting, lofty thoughts, and that grumble only makes him laugh a little as he looks at her with gentle eyes.]
...You did say you wanted to make me breakfast.
no subject
[She says, as her head plops against his chest. If they didn't have to eat, she wouldn't move, or need to convince herself to get up, but she did promise that she would make him breakfast.]
I was hoping I'd be the first to wake up, so I could wake you up with it.
[But this will have to do. It'll take her a few moments to finally peel herself away from being glued to his side, and she doesn't leave without first paying the kissing tax before kicking the sheets off of her to pull her pajamas on, stealing glances back at him over her shoulder as she pulls her shirt and sweats on.]
You can get a little more sleep if you want. I'll be right back, okay?
no subject
...I'll be here.
[The words sound so normal, yet also off. And when she leaves, he can only watch her, eyes following her until she disappears around the corner to the kitchen.
Slowly he rolls off the bed and starts dressing himself, but just as he finishes, he feels that familiar chill and turns to find Eria sitting on his bed, eyes downcast. She looks thinner, her coat a bit more unkempt. He hasn't had time to groom her like he normally does, but even if he had, she had been avoiding him. With a rueful smile, knowing what her presence means, he returns to the bed and sits next to her. Immediately the snow wolf whines and shoves her head under his arms.
As Eustace holds her against his chest, fingers lightly stroking near her ears where she likes it best, he smiles.]
You know, Eria... When I first saw you, I thought you were Vitty if he had grown up. So perhaps it was meant to be that you were my familiar.
[Between whines she grumbles and he laughs.]
Yes, you're different and just as special. [His smile softens.] That's why...thank you for bringing me here and being with me. I'm sorry I couldn't do more.
...Don't be too upset and take care of yourself...
[It's then that he feels a wave of tiredness and he's unable to keep his eyes open. A complicated feeling of regret and acceptance washes over him, but at least...ultimately, he's happy.
When Tifa returns, she'll find Eustace sitting on the bed, slumped over Eria who quietly whimpers and occasionally licks his face to no response.]
no subject
Last night had been so strangely perfect in many ways. More perfect than she had planned on giving his birthday credit for, and every single moment of it had been etched and carefully carved into her memory so that she could tuck it away. The only thing that could make it more perfect is being here in his kitchen, preparing him breakfast—it's filled her chest with an inexplicable, intense warmth that only heightens the delicious smells of the eggs and bacon and coffee as she finishes preparing it all. His birthday gift, neatly wrapped on the table, is picked up and placed carefully on the tray like a garnish, and she won't keep him waiting for long.
With the large tray and the two plates of food, cups of coffee, and bowls of fruit in hand, she returns to the room, and upon seeing him in what she assumes is a deep sleep, she laughs.]
Sorry to keep you waiting, but here we are. Fresh off the stove.
[Ah, he must have really passed out. Granted, they had a long night last night, so she pipes up again, louder this time.]
Hey! Wake up.
[But he doesn't respond, or move, and that's when she sees the wolf in his arms, beneath his slumped over body, and now she can sense it. How there's something in the room that feels... off. So off that her gut immediately wrenches, and her chest tightens, and her smile fades as she quietly calls out to him again.]
Hey...
[Her hands are already shaking as she makes eye contact with her, the dishes rattling on the tray, and her mind is screaming to put it down before she drops it, but her body remains frozen while in that half a second, she wonders—]
Eustace? [Her voice is suddenly hoarse, and her throat is dry, and it's as if all of the light and happiness she'd ever carried within herself had been sucked right out, leaving only worry and fear.] Eria...?
[Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong. He hadn't just fallen asleep. He was tired, but he was never this heavy a sleeper.
Hardly paying attention to everything around her, Tifa finally finds it in her to place the tray down with a clatter, the cups of coffee knocking over and spilling across the food and the desk she'd set it on, before she's rushing across the room and stumbling onto the bed next to him. Her hands on his back tell her immediately that he's still breathing at least, but...
She gives him a gentle shake, her voice quiet and almost afraid to call out to him.]
Eustace...?
no subject
Eria whimpers and looks up at Tifa, her large ice blue eyes reflecting the grief she feels. She had always been friendly towards the woman, having approved of their relationship, and now she nudges Tifa before pulling back so that she can room to hold or move Eustace.]
no subject
She stares at the familiar a little longer, her expression and eyes speaking volumes for her, asking the questions she's too afraid to say out loud before she moves in next to her at Eustace's side, where she moves him so that he's properly laying down, so that Eria can move, and so that she can see him a little easier. Her hands on either side of his face and combing back his hair, she tries one more time... Tifa leans in and presses a kiss to his lips, hoping that it will be what wakes him up the same way he did for her only just this morning.]
Wake up...
[But he doesn't move again.
There's a sound from the other side of the bed, and a long, grey nose pokes up from behind it, and Tifa's own familiar is there, watching and chirping quietly, and when Tifa looks to her, the dolphin only nods, as if to confirm all of the hundreds of things that are running through her head at once. Confirming that what she didn't want to believe is the truth, but she still looks to Eria to know for sure. She has to be one hundred percent sure...
And whenever she gives her answer, that'll be it. That'll be enough.
All of her fears and worries, all of the things she'd been keeping pent up since the first night they spent together, when they talked about how fleeting this world could be, and how this would never last forever, come pouring out. She'd tried hard to hold in the tears she could feel burning in the corners of her eyes, but what was the point now? What was the point in being strong, when there was no one here to be strong for?
She can very clearly recall the last time she had cried like this, and how he had only been a small puppy held in her arms then. How he had tried to wipe away her tears in any way he could before his real self had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. How he'd comforted her in one of her lowest moments, when her pride and strength had shattered underneath her, and how he had continued to be the one constant in her life here...
The memory only pushes her further over the edge, the tears spilling over his face now, and she pounds a fist gently against his chest.]
You dummy... Can you hear me!? When I said go back to sleep, I didn't mean...
[She can hardly get the words out in between violent sobs, and she collapses against Eustace, her face buried into his chest and arms around him, and she gives Eria's fur a very gentle tug, silently seeking out her comfort... Tifa knows this is hurting the familiar as much as it is her, if not more. She deserves to be here as much as she does, and right now, she needs the one creature in this godforsaken world who understands what she's feeling.
How long she remains there, crying next to him, she has no idea. Time is fickle, and it's stupid, and all it ever does is take people away from her. It doesn't matter what world, or what far-off universe, she'll never stop losing people. That's just how it's going to be, unacceptable as it is.
Hours will pass, and her own familiar will try to urge her to get up and eat, or to go home to those who are likely worried about her, but Tifa never once leaves his side. And when she does, it will only be because she has to—when her body can no longer sustain itself on its own and she really does need to eat, and when she finally does get up, it'll be to do just that, and to clean furiously, or set out food for Eria. Anything to occupy herself, but she'll never once step outside the house, vowing to stay with him until he either wakes up... or until he's gone from this world.]
no subject
But then the inevitable happens when the bond is completely broken and Eustace is no longer in Camelot. There's no special effect, no warning. It just snaps and just as suddenly he appeared, he disappears, leaving behind an empty space.
There is mourning, but eventually Eria will use her magic to pull out a book from one of the high shelves in his room. It's one filled with his personal notes of what he's managed to learn of this world during his stay, including what he had seen when Cecelia had taken him to the source. She lightly takes the book into her mouth and brings it over to Tifa, letting the pages fall to open where a well worn envelope addressed to Tifa lays. It looks as if it has been held often, the crease of the flap worn out as if opened and closed several times.
And whenever she opens it, there is letter inside.]
the end. 💞 ... for now. (once upon a dream plays softly in the distance)
Tifa had other things on her mind.
In those couple of days, she had tried whatever she could to help tether him to this world and made several more attempts to wake him despite the familiars' warnings not to. It was the end, she knew, but there was some small part of her that wondered and hoped that if she could find a way to wake him or find a way to feed her magic into his, he could stay a little longer. It was one last act of desperation in the late hours of the night when she hovered her hand over his chest as she lay next to him, small embers burning at her fingertips, or tiny bursts of wind. But when the snowflakes and ice had started to appear...
That's when she stopped and had fallen asleep again.
And when she woke at an ungodly hour, that's when it had happened. Eustace, who had once been there next to her, still warm and breathing steadily as if he'd just fallen asleep for the night, is gone. Somehow, she'd cried herself almost numb, the feeling of finding him immovable still raw in her chest, and she only stares at the pillow next to her, her hand sliding over the sheets to feel that his side has already gone cold, as more tears begin to fall over her face and onto the pillows.
It's hard to break again what was already broken.
But then Eria comes, her padded footsteps drawing a sniff out of her as she moves her gaze up from the bed to her, and she drops a book onto the bed in front of her, the pages falling open to reveal... an envelope? With her name scrawled across it in... his writing.
Through tear-glistening eyes, she stares at the dog, and she can feel her hands shaking again. Had he gotten up to write it? No, if he had, then she would have woken up the moment she felt any movement that wasn't him just... vanishing from this world's existence. No... this has to be...
Taking it, she inspects the envelope first, noting how the corners have crinkled, as if he'd touched it many, many times before he'd finally put it away, and her own fingers graze over it, smoothing them out when she sits up, as if she might pick up any remnant of his soul left on the parchment. She remains that way for a while, sitting in his bed with the envelope held carefully in her lap, and she stares down at it, wondering and afraid of what could be inside.
Eventually, she'll brave it and tug it open, and unfold the paper that's tucked away inside. A letter. From him.
If you've received this letter from Eria, then it means I have left Camelot...]
You knew...
[She mutters to herself in a shaky voice, tears already beginning to stain the paper as she reads on. Of course, he knew. Eria did too, didn't she? And of course he didn't want to tell her and make her worry and fret about it, because that's exactly what she would have done in his last few days. She would have kept searching for a way to keep him there, when in reality, the best way to spend it would have been... exactly as they did.
Still...
Tifa can't help but feel a little mad that he hadn't said a word of it to her. If he had, would they have been able to find a way to at least buy them enough time to... to do what, she realizes. He had a world to go back to, and a home, and people he cared about. It would have been a selfish move to try to keep him here when this world didn't need him anymore. But then it's a selfish thing for this world to discard people as it sees fit, to send them home when it felt it didn't need their help, after they've made the choice to build on friendships and relationships and find happiness and love and companionship.
This is exactly what she and Aerith talked about.
Reading on, Tifa is able to pinpoint the exact moment her heart almost stops—when she finally gasps in that breath of air that she'd been holding out on as her eyes picked out each word he had carefully written.
"You gave me a glimpse of what it was like to be in love."
...
Is that what it was? All of those feelings that she could never pinpoint? Everything she'd felt that night, as they lay there under that magical snowfall that she'd been to scared to confront? Things that she hadn't felt since coming to Camelot... Things she never imagined she'd ever feel for anyone else... And she'd made him feel that, too? Or was she overthinking it? Not that it mattered anymore. He was gone, and...
He's gone.
The realization hits her again, and she can hardly get through the rest of the letter through her sobs, but she manages... somehow. It's hard, and her chest hurts, and it's difficult to breathe, but she will see to the last word of that letter with everything she's got, no matter how difficult it proves to be. She takes her time though, reading and absorbing every pen stroke, afraid that if it ends, the letter will turn to dust in her hands. She can't afford to lose the one thing left in this world that serves as proof that they had something special.
By the time Tifa reads his name, the paper is soaked through and wrinkled, and her cheeks are stained with what's left of her tears as she clutches the letter to her chest, careful not to crinkle it any further. She remains there a little while longer, but... she remembers she has people she needs to return to. People who depend on her, and who she depends on in turn, and she'd left them for far too long without a word.
Eventually, she'll rise to her feet, her legs wobbly and her head light, but Tifa is stronger than to let it all get her down. It was as he said, and she didn't want his words to mean nothing. She was going to get through this... She always does.
After saying goodbye to Eria, she wanders through the walls of the home once more, stopping at the couch to remember the time they'd watched the Galaxy Wars sequel together, and the kitchen to remember the countless times she'd practically shoved a bowl of soup in his face and demanded he eat something, and then back to the bedroom where they'd spent many hours simply laying there in comfortable silence until they fell asleep...
There are too many memories to count, and too many memories that are precious to her, and still, it would never be enough. She's always going to be left wanting more, and yet, still being satisfied and happy with the time they spent together. She should be—it's what he would want. He said so in the letter. What they had... it was special, if simply walking through those memories now is any sign of that. It meant something to him, just as much as it did her, and that's all she could ask for.
Eustace had done so much for her—more than she could ever hope to ask for, and she hopes that he at least went home knowing that. That after all of the pain she's had to endure at home and here in Camelot, that he had helped to fill that void left in her heart, and that she would have it no other way. She hopes that, while he slept, he'd heard her voice in his head, reminding him of what it was he meant to her, even if she could never convey it properly with words. If she could know that he at least was aware of that, then Tifa can at least go on being okay with how it ended.
After all, the last thing they'd both seen had been a smile, and who would want anything but?
Her hand clutches the white rose pendant around her neck, the other the envelope and letter tucked back inside, and she flicks off the light at the foyer after one last look back, before she shuts the door behind her.
After everything, that was that. It was how this world worked. But perhaps he was right—perhaps someday, they'll meet again. Whether it be here in Camelot, or in another world. A dream, even.
She will await that day, if it ever comes.]