adelphoi | (no subject)

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[ she's cold.

like the last time alisaie woke in one of these pods, at first, that cold is all she can feel. it sinks deep into her flesh, clings to her bones, and though she does not feel faint or hypothermic when she stumbles out of it, she nevertheless feels deeply chilled. her mind and memory feel fogged, and as she stands amidst the rows of pods she is confused, disoriented, until -

like a heavy weight, the realization crashes down.

alisaie does not think, she only moves, sweeping past the endless rows of pods as quickly as her trembling, aching legs will carry her, her heart beating wildly in her throat. she must get home. she must find them.

how long as it been? memory flashes in the back of her mind, images of home, of where she has been and what she has been doing and gods, the entire time she had forgotten this place, she had forgotten her home here, and peo, and prompto. a cold hand squeezes her heart tightly, painfully, as years of longing begin to set in at once, for though she had not remembered him then, she remembers him now, and all the time that has passed since last she set eyes on his beloved face. she's desperate now, to throw herself into his arms, but moreover she is.. afraid. how long has she been asleep? what if he is sleeping as well, no longer here? what if he has moved on? panic clutches her insides relentlessly.

but she does not need to get home. when alisaie turns the corner to the exit, he's there - she would recognize that hair anywhere, even if it looks a little less ostentatious than usual (and a little darker?), and her heart, that had been pounding hard, now stills. ]

Prompto -

[ his name feels so sweet on her tongue, riding on a rasping breath, but it's only the briefest of moments before she's moving again, surging into his arms, her hands clasping his jaw to pull him into a hard, needy, desperate kiss. ]

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[ He's...been here before.

It's a truth that his body knows immediately upon waking, even though it's difficult for him to recall the memories. It almost seems more like a dream, but dreams are rarely so...visceral. No, this is no dream, but it's just been...a very, very long time since he was here last. A lifetime ago, and from the moment he awoke in that pod, he's been chasing memories of a time he's forgotten, like brushing the dust off of his heart and his mind.

There's traces of it, lingering, and as he explores the columns of pods, recognizing faces within them that aren't from Eos, it begins to return, slowly. El Nysa...that was the planet, and this place — a space station, controlled by beings called the Natha. He sees his friends from home inside the pods, he sees Noctis inside the pods, but he sees friends whose names he cant quite place yet, too. Did he meet them here? He...had a live here, didn't he?

It's been so goddamn long.

And yet he keeps searching, because he's looking for someone, someone important. Someone who had defined the life that he led here, and it feels so strange, to be picking up the own pieces of his life like this, but it seems as though searching that person out will be the only way to jog his memory. Someone who had been by his side through it all, dried his tears, held him close...his heart races. How could he have forgotten someone so important that even the memory of them is a blur?

But still he doesn't give up his search, even as he pulls to a stop to try to wrack his brain for more. Hopefully the rest will come back in time as the fog in his mind lifts, but if there's anything he can do in the meantime to help him remember the life he had here...it would go a long way. He has to remember. He needs to. Only then can he really begin to...sort this all out.

But before he can conjure up anything into his mind, there's a pattering of feet behind him, and before he knows it, someone is slipping up into his arms, grasping his face, and pulling him into a hard, unrelenting kiss.

This flesh memory too is strong and visceral, and thoughtlessly, he kisses her back, with that same heated desperation. Thoughtlessly, his hands frame her face, touching skin he knows but can't remember. That instant, a brief moment of eternity, his heart seizes up, swelling with bliss and anguish alike. This is...right. ]

Al...Ali...

[ He breathes against her lips, trying to pull the memory forth, but then...that feeling of rightness is gone, and he inhales sharply, his eyes snapping open as the revelation only begins to dawn on him.

What? ]

[ her memories too are heavy and thick, like they are waking from the same sleep that she had, but it has not been quite so long for him as it has been for her. a handful of years, two at most, mayhaps, so while she had needed to swipe the cobwebs from her mind it had not taken long. she remembers his name, his sweet face, his voice with which he breathes her name and alisaie exhales a hard, trembling sigh of relief, the rush of her breath wrapped up in a trembling laugh, hot tears springing to her eyes.

how could she have forgotten?

of course she knew the risk. she always knew. this is not the first time she had fallen into stasis, it had happened to them both, and to their friends and loved ones, they both knew that this could happen. gods, how long has she kept him waiting? it hasn't occurred to her that he might have been sleeping as well.

she laughs again against his mouth, before pulling back to lift her hands to how own on either side of her face, her eyes lifting to look him over. gods, he looks.. changed. he's still the same man that she loved, still the same kindly face and warm eyes and silly, ostentatious hair (though less ostentatious and more responsible now, it would seem, though only just), but he has.. filled out, squared off, there are lines where there were once none, and he's grown a bit of fuzz on his chin that was most definitely not there before.

guilt claws at her heart, the tears in her eyes thickening, blurring her vision and clinging to her eyelashes, threatening to spill over. ]

I'm.. I'm so sorry..

[ years, he must have been waiting.. time is a strange thing in those pods, and while it had only felt like two years or so to her, he looks older than that frame would allow. how long had she left him alone? had he given up on ever seeing her again? had he.. moved on? ]

How.. how long?

[ He is not as quick as her to put things together, even if the conclusion she has arrived at is incorrect. He's still trying to wrap his head around that kiss, around how natural and easy it was, how he had followed through on it without even thinking. But...that's the problem. He should have been thinking. Cindy, he...

He just kissed another girl while Cindy is waiting for him in stasis.

For a moment, he looks absolutely stricken, his face paling as a hand lifts to cover his mouth, and he steps back and out of her grip. But, no, that isn't right, either. Ali...Alisaie. He searches her face, her dark blue eyes that go on forever, her button nose, the smooth slope of her jaw, her wild white hair and pointed ears — just slightly different than he recalls. He knows her face, her voice, her touch. She held him and spoke to him and kissed him so many times before. She shared his bed, his home. They had a life here, together.

He loved her.

His hand falls from his mouth to his chest, curling tight over his heart, his breath short and his vision swimming. ]

T-ten...ten years. [ He stammers without looking back up at her. ] It's been ten years...

[ He feels sick. Whereas a few moments before everything had felt so right, now everything feels so very wrong, as guilt fills him up like a vessel, from head to toe, all-consuming and horrifying.

What has he done? ]

[ his warm hands slip away from his face, and he draws.. back from her. away. he knows her name but there's something like unfamiliarity in his eyes, and all at once she feels her heart sink with dread. instantly, the relief and ecstasy she had felt drains away, and her stomach clenches up tightly. why is he looking at her that way..?

but then the answer comes. ten years. ten years.

mayhaps in the grand scheme of things ten years is a long time, but for them, for their lives? it's an eternity, an enormous gap. alisaie's eyes snap wide, her throat tightening in terror, and as she watches him withdraw she can feel it, her heart cracking, a great pain in her soul. she has.. she has missed so much. nothing will be as it once was, and prompto - he's all but looking at her as if she is a stranger to him, not relieved to see her, not happy or joyful that they have been reunited.

he has.. he has moved on.

she could not blame him. ten years is a long time. more than enough time to mourn a loss, and leave it behind. dropping her eyes, alisaie clasps her hands together, tugging at her fingers in that nervous way she does. ]

I.. I-I see.

[ she should say more. ask more. but the words are stuck in her throat, and a quiet panic is building in her belly. what will she do? where will she go? what is.. her next step? ]

I'm.. I'm sorry. I'm so s-sorry.

[ she can't help it now - the tears of joy in her eyes spill over now, bitter and painful, though she scrubs at her face with both hands as quickly as she can. what else can she do but apologize? she left him, and for so long.. ]

[ He can't quite meet her eyes, but hearing her reaction play out in her voice is more than enough to cleave his heart. He...he did this. She's hurt, she's crying because of him. She was so happy to see him only a few minutes ago, and he was happy to see her, like a piece that had gone missing from his heart was suddenly reattached. But then everything else came crashing down, and he hasn't even realized the half of it. All he knows for sure is that he loved her, he loved Alisaie, when he was here, those ten long years ago. But that's just it — it was ten years ago, and in that time that he slumbered in his pod, he watched Eos fall into ruin and fought against the Starscourge for ten long years until Noctis returned and gave his life to save the world.

Those ten years were a lifetime in and of themselves, and now, he's here, with her, trying to pick up the pieces of the life that he once knew here. She withdraws back, and his heart twists painfully in his chest. Distraught as he might be, he can't let her think that. That she has any reason to be sorry, when he's the one who...who left her. For ten years...

And he lived that long without thinking of her once. Without knowing her name, or her place in his heart. Not once. How could he call himself her husband—

Husband.

They...had been married.

An icy hand grips at his lungs, and there are stars and tears in his vision that he desperately blinks at as he reaches out to grasp at her elbow. ]

W-wait. N-no...please. If...if anyone should be apologizing. it's...it's me. I...I left you, I...I didn't...I didn't remember...

[ He's so, so deeply ashamed. How could he forget her? His Alisaie? His wife? And not only that, but love another in her place?

He thought he had addressed his issues of self-worth long ago, but now he feels more worthless than he ever has before. ]

[ alisaie has never dealt well with pain and loss. it is her great weakness - her inability to process it, and while prompto might be hale and hearty and alive, he is.. not the same. changed. grown. the prompto she had known and loved is gone, this new man grown around him, who has lived so long that the memory of her, and what they shared, has faded from his heart. it isn't his fault. she could not blame him. but gods, it hurts, the grief in her heart overwhelming. he is alive, but she has lost him all the same.

but of course he would try to comfort her, because he is still prompto, still kind and gentle and unable to watch someone suffer. his hands at her elbows are gentle, his touch soft, but it can do little to soothe her suffering, and besides, she does not want him to see it. years might have changed her, but she is still herself, and exposing her pain is difficult at best, even to him. especially to him, now - now that he looks at her as if she is a stranger.

so she shakes her head and grinds the heels of her hands into her wet, reddened eyes, swallowing her tears as best as she can, though she is still shaken nonetheless. there will be time for tears later, when she is alone, when she can spill her heart without.. worrying him. ]

What.. what do you mean?

[ what he's saying - it doesn't make any sense. ]

But I was the one who slept. You did.. you did nothing wrong.

[ didn't.. remember? ]

[ She was the one who slept? So...she had been in stasis, too?

Somehow, that makes a lot more sense, even if he hadn't done the math before. She looked older, but not ten years older, and so the time that passed for her couldn't have been the same as what passed for him. Still, the thought that he might have abandoned her here for any stretch of time is almost unbearable. If she had been sleeping at the same time that he had...then that is a small weight off of his heart.

Not that it changes much in the long run, when so much time has past, when he has been so unspeakably awful. But still...it's something.

Vehemently, he shakes his head, a sob loosening from his lungs. ]

No, I-I...I was asleep, too. I...went back to Eos. For ten years, and I...

[ At last, he lifts his eyes to search for hers, as tears fall freely, unrestrained, as emotion pours out of his heart. ]

How could I forget?

[ alisaie has never taken his pain well - from the very start his tears have always cut into her soul, she could not bear to see him cry then, and she cannot bear it now. he is too good, too kind to hurt in such a way.

her instinct is to surge forward, of course, to take his face into her hands and kiss the tears from his cheeks. it has been years for her as well, but not quite so many, not enough that her body has forgotten what is right, not so long that her heart hesitates. it comes back quickly, easily, and there's nothing she could want more than to hold him until his tears abate, to wipe them from his soft blue eyes.

but while her heart might not hesitate, her mind does. he drew away from her touch moments before, and while it had once felt so natural to reach for him, to touch him, now everything feels.. broken. he does not want her to touch him, he's made that clear with his body language, even if he is too kind - or too torn - to say as much. so while her hands reach out at first, she catches herself, hesitates, curls her fingers against her palms instead. ]

Then.. then we both..

[ they both slept, at the same time. that brings her some small amount of relief, but it's an empty comfort. at least he was not here alone, mourning, but they have still been too long pulled apart. ten years is.. so much time for him to reconcile. ]

That is.. the risk we knew we were taking.

[ she says at last, a reminder to them both. they knew full well how this world works when they made their vows, they knew that stasis would some day come for them, even though they might have hoped it would not take them for so long. but she made the choice to marry him nonetheless. ]

[ It is a long time to reconcile, and that's even after he truly remembers everything. It's still coming back to him, in bits and pieces, the life that he and Alisaie had here together. How very much they had meant to one another...she had been his whole entire world, he loved her with every fiber of his being, and yet...

He had still forgotten her. He had left her. All those times that he promised that he would always be with her, that he would find her no matter what...

Were they just lies, then? Lies he told her to make himself feel better? No sooner was he back on Eos than all trace of her had vanished from his heart. And he had loved someone else. Someone he still loves, now. How...how could he be so despicable to them both?

If he could sink through this floor into the shadows of space and disappear, he probably would, but she deserves better than that. She deserves so much more than that, than him, than everything this moment is doing to her. He's broken her heart — he can see it plain on her face, and he knows he must break it further still. Because how can he not tell her? About...about Cindy?

Swallowing thickly, his grip on her elbows slides down to her wrists, which she holds no less steadfastly, though his hands are trembling. ]

But, I still...forgot, after I promised I'd always be with you,no matter what...

[ His promises, his vows...they meant nothing in the end, didn't they? How can she even bear to look at him, after everything? ]

[ he's trying to beat himself up, to show remorse, but it only serves to make her feel worse. she knows full well what it means for them to have slept, she hardly needs him to reiterate it, to remind her that she had forgotten him, and he her, for ten long, long years. it is no wonder that she must seem all but a stranger to him, and while her mind knows full well it is not his fault, that neither of them could have helped it, her heart still aches for it. the rationale cannot stem the tide of pain. ]

Yes, we both did.

[ she says, her eyes dropping to his hands where they hold her wrists. why? why is he touching her? his signals are mixed, hot and cold, all over the place, which she supposes is only natural. he must be feeling conflicted, trying to recognize the ten year lifetime with what he knows now, all the time that has passed between them too cumbersome a thing to handle.

but he is not the only one who forgot. he has to know that she would forgive him that. how could she not? ]

We both.. made promises.

[ and for her part, she still means to keep them - or she did, at least, until she'd seen that look on his face, until this unimaginable space opened up between them. the two years away from him had done little enough to dampen her feelings for him, or her commitment, but it's.. clear that it might not be the same for him, and the very idea of that - that it might have been to long for him, that he might no longer love her..

gods. gods. to even think those words.

swallowing the thick lump in her throat, alisaie withdraws her hands, worrying at the wedding band on her finger that lingers still, even now. it has never felt heavier. ]

You look tired.

[ lingering here, in this cold, sterile place.. it cannot help. ]

[ He is tired, more than he could ever rightly express, weary down to his very bones and soul. He has scarcely had time to mourn the loss of his best friend, and now he bears the loss of his world once again, if he was ever truly back there to begin with. Was it all just a deceit of the mind? Were they dreams brought on by stasis? Was any of it...real?

No, no...it had to be. He's grown and changed too, bears years and scars and experience that he didn't have before. Not that that is helping him now, when he could use it the most. He feels younger, smaller than he ever has, and he doesn't even feel like he has the right to be tired.

With a soft whimper, he lifts a hand to palm away at the tears on his cheeks. ]

...Y-yeah. Guess ten years of darkness'll do that to a guy...

[ There's no mirth in his words, as much as he might try, out of habit. But...why is she asking? Is she going to send him away to sleep somewhere? It'd be an easy out for her to get him away from her, and he can't blame her if she wanted that. They're both going to need space and time to process all of this, even if being away from her is the last thing he wants right now. But should it be? Gods, his heart feels like it's been split it two, a complicated fracture where there was none before.

Before, because he didn't remember her. He never even considered...that he might be being unfaithful, when he'd confessed to someone else. ]

Guess we...got a lot to talk about, huh?

I suppose so.

[ for her part, she hardly has any news. alisaie had been home, certainly - or so her memories tell her - and she had been working hard of course, always on the path to save eorzea from itself, to do her work as a scion, but aside from thrilling adventures, she does not have much of a tale to tell. a lot can happen in two years, but she still feels more or less the same as she had the last time she opened her eyes on el nysa. a little older, a little taller, a little wiser, mayhaps, but that is all.

clearly it is not so for prompto, and while she knows that they will talk, that they must talk, she fears what she might hear, what he might have to say to her. the very idea of it makes her heart clench up with apprehension. a decade is a very long time in which to forget someone, and she must prepare herself for the face that too much may have changed for him.

he made so many promises. he had smiled and held her, kissed her, loved her. they knew that they might be separated one day, that they might fall back into stasis, neither of them could promise that that would not happen. but he had promised always to love her, and she him.

she can forgive that he had forgotten her. she can forgive that he had slept. but can she forgive him if he has broken that one, monumental promise? can she forgive him if he.. if he leaves her, like they all do? she had been so afraid to love someone, to love him, afraid to lose something so precious, so afraid that she had needed to be convinced that it would be worth the risk, never thinking that it may perhaps actually come to pass. talking with him, hearing what he has to say.. can she forgive him if he breaks her heart?

she doesn't know. she can't know. but the fear in her heart suggests her answer.

silently, alisaie steps onto the teleportation pad, waiting for him to join her before they journey down together, back to wyver, back to the home they had left behind. ]

[ And wordlessly, he follows her, downcast and a shell of his usual self, his heart and soul in knots like he has never known before. For all he has struggled in his life, he has never, ever faced something like this before, and he has no idea where to even begin to untangle himself. What does he do next? Gods, he doesn't even know if it's the right thing to do to go with her right now. Will he give her the wrong idea? What is the wrong idea?

Taking even those few steps takes strength beyond himself, but he joins her on the teleporter, fiddling with his wedding band, the symbol of those promises he had made so long ago that it feels like another lifetime, another person.

But it was still him, wasn't it? It was still him, and it was still her, and they are once again, together, in spite of everything.

...He considers once, twice, three times holding her hand, but he's too disgusted with himself for it to be more than a passing fancy. It's...not right, no matter how much it feels like it is. Gods, he hates this. Walls between them were never supposed to exist after they had taken them down for one another, let the other closer than anyone had ever been before. And yet now they are still higher than ever, erected tall and seemingly impregnable.

Maybe it's...better. But it doesn't feel better. Nothing feels better right now.

All the way back to their house in Wyver he is silent. He doesn't know what he could even say, if he could find his voice, with every passing landmark striking pangs of bittersweet familiarity into his heart and bringing tears to his eyes that will not dry. He knows this place, this city, and he weeps for it. It had once felt so much like home...as did the little treehouse they approach now. This was the home they found together, that they built, that they lived in before and after they were married. There were other homes they occupied together, but this one...was special. A landmark in its own right. Returning to this place feels so much like coming home, and it's surreal and unsettling.

As they approach, Prompto opens his mouth to say something, anything, but before he can get anything out there's a yelp from one of the nearby homes. A small, scruffy dog comes bolting out of the yard towards them at full speed, barking in recognition. ]

...Peo? No...no way—

[ A joyful sound spills forth from him then, a grin splitting his face as tears renew in his eyes. He takes a knee, welcoming the dog into his arms, and Peo licks his face with reckless abandon. ]

[ as much as she would rather not think about any of this at all, there is no room for anything else in her mind. wyver is the same as it had always been. she remembers these trees, she remembers the earthy smell of the air, the sight of dragons in the skies, the warmth, the shape of the city. this was home, and to her.. it still feels that way. soon enough she needs to find out how much time has passed here, while they slept in stasis, out of space and time.

for now, they approach their home. it looks quiet. abandoned. she knows that she will be alone here, save for prompto - the others.. she had seen them in her pods as she had passed, while she searched for prompto. her brother sleeps there now, and krile, and dear x'rhun, everyone she had known here, her family. to have prompto here, yet feeling so far from her.. she cannot say whether it is a blessing or a curse, whether it would be more or less painful to live here alone, while he still sleeps on in stasis, or to have him here beside her, yet a world away. were he slumbering in the pods, she could have at least pretended at the future they might someday have together.

but now..

an all too familiar noise greets them, and when alisaie sees the dog tearing across the grass toward prompto she feels her heart twist up again, hot tears once more rising in her eyes. what a bittersweet feeling it is to watch them together, and the gods know that she is indescribably grateful to know that they were not gone so long to have lost peo - he still looks young and healthy and robust - but it is more than her heart can handle. somehow, it makes her feel more isolated still than she had been before. peo had been prompto's dog first and foremost, after all.

there reminders are too plentiful, and too painful, but at least they are happy. it warms her aching, bleeding heart to see it.

nevertheless, she turns from them before prompto can see the tears in her eyes and the pain in her expression, her chest impossibly tight as she quickly climbs the walk to their home and lets herself in. ]

[ Given the burden already upon his heart, Prompto hadn't stopped to consider what they might find at the house when they arrived there — or if members of their family might be missing. Like Alisaie, Prompto had seen them sleeping in their pods, but Peo is a different story. When they went back into stasis, poor Peo would have been left all alone (another thing he is guilty of), to fend for himself, and abandoned as he was the day that Prompto found him. But it would seem their dog was smart and loyal enough to stay near home, and found someone kind enough to take him in while they slept. It can't have been all that long — Peo looks virtually the same as when Prompto last recalls seeing him — but even a few weeks or months could have been more than enough time for a terrible fate to befall their poor dog. Seeing him alive and healthy and just as loving as he remembers gives Prompto just a shred of hope.

Maybe...maybe they can find a way for their family to be a family again someday, after all.

Of course, no sooner has Alisaie turned to head into the house than does Peo tear after her, because while he may have been Prompto's dog first, the two of them have always shared a particularly special bond, and Peo has not forgotten. He tears up the walkway after her, surging up to her and pawing at her leg, prancing as he tries to lick her hands.

And Prompto brings up the rear, lost again in silent stupor as he takes in the sight of their home. It looks untouched, just as they left it, and his heart aches with such an exquisitely painful fondness that he can scarcely breathe.

His fingers graze the door frame with reverence. ]

[ it's empty, and dusty, but the house is the same as they had left it - cozy and inviting, warm, familiar, and.. surrounded by mementos. trinkets. reminders. the mantle is still crowded with photographs, prompto's jacket and alisaie's traveling cloak still hung by the door. no doubt her favorite cookie jar still waits on the counter, and the bathrooms are surely still stocked with their soaps and washes (prompto's, mostly), the closets filled with their garments (again, prompto's mostly).

normally it would have been a source of great comfort, but now.. now it reminds her of all she stands to lose. all she may already have lost, even if he has not put words to it.

alisaie cannot make it very far into the house, however, before peo is chasing her down and pawing at her leg. she can hardly deny him. he has not forgotten her, nor has his affection diminished, and it's enough to make her heart tighten fit to burst. dropping to her knees, alisaie pulls him into her arms, and peo whines his concern, licking the tears from her face that are, thankfully, silent. it's hard enough to be so weak around this man that she had once leaned on so fully, she does not want him to see her cry any more than he must, for fear that he will feel responsible, guilty, or.. obligated. she cannot stand the thought that she might be the target of his pity. ]

I know, my sweet. I missed you, too..

[ she says, softly, attempting to keep her voice level, though it trembles in spite of herself. ]

[ It's the photos that draw him in first, of course, and while Alisaie and Peo reunite properly, Prompto lets them have their moment while he approaches the mantle, almost afraid of what he will find there. His memories are still fuzzy and even as they piece themselves together, these pictures help with some of the knitwork. There are many of Prompto and Alisaie and their friends, but the two of them feature in every single one.

And in the center, there is one that is imprinted upon Prompto's heart, from their wedding reception, of them and all their friends who had been with them on that most special day. A soft cry strangles his breath as he plucks the frame off the mantle, staring at it in his trembling hands until he can no longer distinguish the details through his tears.

How could he forget this? Even if his mind forgot, how could his heart...? He feels like he betrayed everything he knew, everything he made here with her. He forgot that he loved her so fiercely. Does he still? Loving her had always been easy, effortless, what felt natural and right. Does it still feel that way?

The answer isn't immediately apparent, and that's what's worst of all.

Slowly, he turns back to Alisaie and Peo, still clutching the photo in his hands, shuffling his feet as he approaches. ]

Um...w-we...did you want...should we eat first? You beat? Or...or did you want to talk now?

[ He owes her this, at the very least, to not be a coward, to not flinch away from the explanation she deserves. ]

[ there had been a time in their lives when wild chocobos couldn't have dragged him into an important conversation, when she'd needed to chase him down, when wrangling him into talking about something heavy had felt like pulling teeth. ever one to keep the mood light and warm despite his heavy heart, it had never been easy, especially in the beginning, to convince him to discuss the more difficult things.

that he seems so ready and willing to dig into it right now feels like a terrible omen. whatever he has to say cannot be good, most especially given the look on his face while he holds that very specific, very special photograph.

dread blooms in her belly, heavy and nauseating.

alisaie is exhausted, exhausted from her long sleep, from crying, from revelation after terrible revelation. nothing sounds better than the idea of a warm meal, a hot bath, and a soft bed. but the very idea of food makes her feel ill, the possibility of sleep so distant and impossible a thing. tempting though these comforts might pretend to be, they will only delay the inevitable, and she wants answers, even if they terrify her. time has not changed her overmuch. alisaie is still the sort to cut right to the chase.

she straightens, and peo's ears flatten back in worry. this should be a happy moment, but he senses the tension, the unease, the sadness. ]

Tell me whatever it is you need to tell me.

[ So, that's her choice, then, and of course, he will respect it, much as he might dread what he has to say, what will inevitably come of this. This...is it, isn't it? This is the unforgivable bridge that he has crossed, and he is now about to burn it to ashes. He can't do this to her, and yet he must. Like an infected wound, it must be cleaned, even if the injury left behind may still be too great for them recover.

...He used to believe in their love so fully, so completely. He wants to, still. But then he left for ten years and forgot her and fell in love with someone else, so what could he possibly know about true love?

Shuffling his feet like he is unsure whether to sit or stand, his gaze drops away from her own, his grip on the frame tightening while he stalls. He can't do this to her, and yet he must. ]

Alisaie...just hear me out. Before you say anything, let me — let me say everything that I have to.

[ It's the only thing he'll ask of her on this. If she wants to walk away from him forever after this, that's fine, but he has to say everything that's in his heart first.

Again he stalls, fumbling his breath, picking his words like debris in his scattered thoughts. ]

When I was back home, a...a lot happened. The Starscourge...you remember? The world fell into ruin. Eos was overrun by Daemons, but the Crownguard kept fighting. We kept fighting, for ten years of darkness, until...Noct came back. That's — that's not what I need to tell you about. While I was there, there...th-there was...there was s-someone else.

[ And from the way he says it, it's clear what kind of "someone". His head dips low in shame, his cheeks flushed against his otherwise pale face. ]

I...liked her for a long, long time. I didn't...I didn't ever think anything would ever happen, because she never seem interested back, but then...when Noct came back and we had to head into Insomnia one last time, I...I took a chance. I told her how I felt, and...w-we...we kissed.

[ And this is the part where he needs her to keep listening, because for as hard as that was to say, and for how hard it was to hear it, he isn't finished. A desperate note rings in his voice as he squeezes his eyes shut, like he's afraid to even see the shadow of her. ]

I-I...betrayed you. I know. And I...I still care about her. I don't... [ A tear slips from his cheek, splattering onto the smiling faces on the photograph he still holds. ] I don't know what to do. It's been so long since we were together, a-and I broke every promise I made, everything I swore I would do for you. But...

[ At last, he finds the courage again to look up and meet her eyes, though his are desperate, pleading, begging her to hear him, even if he's surely broken her heart already. ]

But earlier, when you found me and you kissed me, before I could even remember anything else, I knew, in my heart, that it was right. Th-that...we were right. Kissing you felt like...coming home.

[ ...And that's it. He falls silent, waiting for the guillotine to drop. It isn't enough, is it? It can't be. ]

[ somehow, it is worse than she had expected.

ten years is a long time. she accepts that. she accepts that his memory is foggy, that he has forgotten so much that will need to be relearned. she even accepts that he.. may not want to relearn it at all, that it has simply been too long, that it can't be salvaged.

but someone else.

the words hit her like a fist, hard and brutal and so sudden that she does not see it coming. the shock is plain on her face, alisaie has never easily hidden her emotions, and this is certainly no exception. someone.. someone else? another woman? in hindsight, it seems obvious enough. a decade is a terribly long time, and prompto.. he is so kind, and warm, and loving, desperate for the nearness of others. it only stands to reason that he would seek that sort of company, that he would yearn for love - but this is not a situation to which she can apply reason, and alisaie has ever thought, and reacted, with her heart before her head.

it feels like a knife to the gut. whoever he had chosen.. no doubt they are worthy. prompto is a good man with a good heart, anyone he would choose must be lovely, and worth loving, and he is worth loving, he deserves to feel cherished in all the ways he wants to feel cherished. ten years is a long time to expect anyone to wait for her, especially when he does not remember. but that does not keep it from hurting. he may have accidentally tripped over her heart, he may not have meant to betray her, or hurt her, but the damage is nevertheless done. there is a ringing in her ears and a tingle in her skin, that surreal feeling of the world dropping out from beneath her feet.

there were so many eventualities that she had prepared herself for. for her own death. for his. for separation. for the loss of their family. their homes. but she had believed in their love. he had convinced her to believe in it, his faith had persuaded and bolstered her own.

yet here he is, in love with another. she can hardly process the shock, the pain.

still she listens, as he asks, despite how his words sound muffled by the sound of rushing blood in her ears, despite how her heart pounds and her gut twists, she listens, and allows him to finish, and she feels guilty for feeling so betrayed, so hurt, when it is clear that it was not an intentional slight. but the fact of the matter still stands that, whether he chose it or not, he has inadvertently driven a wedge between them that neither of them could have seen coming. her wedding band feels painfully tight, impossibly heavy.

that kissing her felt like coming home might seem like a comfort, but it is little more than insult to injury wrapped up in pretty words.

alisaie opens her mouth to speak, but all that escapes is a breath. what can she say? how can she translate her heart? is there any reason to? what would it accomplish? like as not everything she feels is clear enough in her anguished, expression, the sting of pain and betrayal has her recoiling defensively, her body language tight, inward focused with her arms clasped over her abdomen. it has been years since she has ever felt so tightly closed off, as if this single blow has her backpedaling to a time long before she learned to open her heart. ]

I-I.. I don't..

[ she starts, but she cannot finish the thought, it spirals off into the great tangle with all the rest. what is he expecting. ]

I do not know.. wh-what you - what you expect me to say..

[ And there it is. A reaction worse than he could have conceived, and he knows that it is over. It's over, and his heart shatters anew, scattering into a million pieces as she closes herself off. He knows what that posture means. He knows her better than he knows himself, and she wants nothing to do with him. And who could blame her? He has trampled right over her heart. He has betrayed her loved, her trust, their vows. He doesn't deserve to wear this ring anymore, for it symbolizes everything that he isn't.

A dry sob hiccups in his throat, as his head hangs low again. Maybe he should follow her example and shut down, close himself off, because what else can he do? There's nothing else he can do or say right now that wouldn't hurt her, and she's made herself clear. She doesn't...want to even entertain the idea of trying to work this out. Which is more than fair, and he can't blame her for it, but still, it hurts. It hurts so damn much.

He runs the back of his hand over his ruddy and tear-stained cheeks, and when he speaks again, his voice is...hollow. Empty. Robbed of the emotion that had swelled in it before. It all just...bleeds out of him, leaving behind his shell, weary and scooped out. ]

...Nothing. Just...nothing.

[ He swallows against his dry throat, the feeling prickling and sharp. ]

We should...get some rest.

[ Even if they know full well that neither of them will rest tonight. What he really means is that they need some time apart. ]

[ it isn't a good enough answer, not for either of them, but it is all that she could give. what should she say? that she can't believe he's done this? that wouldn't be fair. he had no obligation to her in a world where he could not remember her. should she say that it is okay? that would not be right either, because it is not okay, none of this is okay, her world feels tilted, everything is wrong, things are broken that she had thought indestructible. there is nothing her words can accomplish, especially when she does not know what he expects of her.

or what she expects of herself.

what does this mean for them? what is it that he wants?

alisaie is too afraid to ask. too afraid that his love for this mystery woman is stronger than his love for her ever was, too afraid to hear him say that it is over, no matter how good that kiss might have felt. what if it was too little, too late? what if, in the end, he chooses her?

she will need the answers to these questions, and she will need them soon, but not now. for now, she can barely digest the enormous revelation he has dumped on her, her heart could not handle anything more, and she would not trust herself, or her reactions. already she cannot trust them, she cannot know what she will say or do, how she will vent this terrible pain in her heart, but she does know that adding to the weight will only crush her further.

rest. she's drained. exhausted. but she already knows that sleep will not come. still, it seems their only choice. the night is late, there is nothing more they can say to one another without worsening an already terrible situation, and she could not bring herself to eat, or read, or anything else trivial that might pass the time. curling up in bed in an attempt to not think (she will think, she will think a great deal) is the best option in an array of awful choices.

so alisaie drops her eyes, her nod near imperceptible, and draws away and up the stairs, stopping only to fill peo's water dish before she's disappearing into the room they once shared so happily, so eagerly. ]

[ And just like that, she draws away, up the stairs and out of sight, and for a moment, his heart cries out in abject fear. What if she goes up to their room alone and she returns to stasis? What if he never sees her again? What if they never figure all this out, and they remain unresolved, broken, the shattered remnants of what they once were? He can't bear the thought. He had meant to stay down here, to sleep on the couch apart from her, but his heart twists so painfully at the sight of her disappearing to their room that before he can think better of it, he calls out. ]

Wait!

[ A deafening silence follows, one heavy enough that it almost crushes his resolve, but that would be worse, if he stopped her like this and did not follow through. If he gave her hope, and then snuffed it out so quickly, so cruelly.

Maybe he won't even want him nearby, and no doubt he'll feel guilty for it, but the last thing he wants right now is to be so far separated from her, when ten long years of her absence are catching up with him all at once. ]

...I-I...I don't wanna... [ He swallows. Why the hell is this so hard? He used to be able to tell her anything, everything. ] Is it o-okay if I...sleep up there? With you? I-I can sleep on the floor, but I...

[ ...What is he thinking? This is only going to makes things worse, isn't it? ]

[ he calls out for her, and the sound of it is so true and intense that at first alisaie the smallest lift of hope in her heart. what does he have to say that is so important? will he tell her exactly what she wants to hear? that this was all a terrible joke? a cruel, elaborate prank?

will he tell her he loves her?

it has not been lost on her that he has not said it, that for all the things he has spilled from his heart, the expression of his love has not been one of them, which stings more than all the rest. they could get through this, if he loved her. they could find a way. but if he has not said it.. they cannot be sustained on her love alone. they should not be sustained on her love alone. and she knows prompto, she knows his heart, even this distant heart she does not know, and he would not offer her false promises. he would not make jokes about a thing like this. whatever hope she has that he has lied about all this dies just as soon as it breathes.

alisaie turns at the top of the stairs, trying, and failing, to do her very best to mask the deep, impossible sadness she feels. does he have one last barb to throw? the straw to break the camel's back?

no. he is asking something simple. so simple, in fact, that it stings so very badly that he would have to ask such a thing at all. alisaie's expression crumples, and she quickly looks away. ]

Of course it is. This is your home. Your bed. You needn't ask me such a thing..

[ Of course it is. And yet, he still felt compelled to ask. To make sure it was okay. That he could sleep in the same room as his wife.

Shame washes over him again, and his face turns away as hers does, as he fiddles with his wedding band again, that same nervous tic he had had years and years before, suddenly returned to him in full force now that he is here again. ]

...Right. Yeah. I just...yeah. Sounds...sounds good.

[ I just wasn't sure if you would rather be alone, but he doesn't say that, of course he doesn't say that. Of course she doesn't want to be alone. It's only his betrayal that might make it a necessary thing. Will she hold some things in that she otherwise wouldn't, if he weren't around? Is he being selfish?

That's a stupid question. Of course he is.

With his head hanging low like a dog that's been scolded, he ascends the stairs after her, stepping through the doorway into their bedroom where another overwhelming wave of nostalgia waits for them. It's all the same as it was in his distant memories that were lying dormant until he stepped into the room. Their bed, the photos on their nightstand, the dresser full of clothes and personal items, vestiges of the life they had built here together, the life he has destroyed with such simplicity.

Wordlessly, he moves over to his side of the bed and sinks down onto it, reaching down to unlace his boots.

Sleep may not come, but he might as well get comfortable. ]