cimenita

Staring out at the beauty ahead, your head spun. About 5 minutes ago you found out your friend Avdol was fine. Alive and well, in fact! It was then that you were informed that you and Polnareff were left out of the loop. It was a strategic decision, hurtful as it was.

They’d kept it from Polnareff because he might spill the secret, and from you, because you might’ve told Polnareff, to spare him from his suffering the past few weeks.

They were right. You absolutely would have told him. You would do anything to cheer him up, to chip away at the guilt he carried around, heavy like a stone. Even now you wanted to take away his pain, bear it for him.

He stubbed out his cigarette in the sand. The sound of the waves meeting the shore was interrupted by a deep sigh, then the crack of his voice.

~

“I can’t believe they lied to me. To both of us!”

Head in his hands, he began to cry again. It was pitiful to see him like this. You reached out, rubbed his back. You told him:

“Yeah. Especially to you. You’ve been blaming yourself this whole time.”

“Uh huh.” He whimpered and leaned into your touch. “I’m glad you weren’t lying to me, at least.”

You pulled him closer, squeezed him tight. “I’d never lie to you. They knew that.”

“Mhm.” He squeaked, then laid his face on your shoulder. Muffled, he said: “That’s why you’re my favorite.”

~

His favorite? His favorite?! Maybe I have a chance..

~

“You’re my favorite too.” You chuckled, and he looked up at you smiling. “You feel better now?”

“A little.” He nodded. Still grinning, he asked: “I’m really your favorite?”

~

“More than that, actually.” You admitted.

“What?” He asked, totally clueless.

~

This wasn’t how you meant for it to come out, but you couldn’t go back now. Biting back nerves, you replied:

~

“It’s ok if you don’t feel the same way.”

He spat out a series of questions. Each one felt like a shock to your heart.

“Feel the same way? What do you mean? Wha-What are you saying?”

~

Mouth dry, you forced the words out:

“I have feelings for you.”

“Feelings?” He asked, slack-jawed. “Like friend feelings?”

“No! Like.. romantic feelings.”

“Feelings?! For me?!” He echoed out, far across the ocean!

“Yes.” You squeaked as the shame sunk in. You got up, started to walk away.

“Sorry, this was stupid. If you were into me, you’d have shot your shot by now.”

You sighed the last bit: “Like you did with every pretty lady we came across.”

He caught your hand, fell to his knees in the sand and sputtered:

“Non, non! I’m sorry you had to watch me flirt! If only I’d known you had feelings for me.” He smiled.

~

Stunned, you only had one word:

“Why?”

He stood up, then glanced at his hand, still clasped in yours. His answer came out.

“I wanted to push those feelings down, distract myself from-“ He glanced away, then back again! “-from something that could be real. Because you felt untouchable. Too good for me.”

You moved to lace your fingers with his.

“Jean, that’s not true at all. You’re more than good enough.” You squeezed. “In fact, your sense of justice has always attracted me to you. You’re a good man.”

~

“Is that so?” He beamed, and pulled you closer! “You really mean that?!”

He loosely hung an arm around your waist, but hesitated to pull you close. To keep you in place.

“Yes. You have a good heart. I like that.”

He placed your hand on his chest, let you feel how soft his skin was.

“Then my heart is all yours. Mon amour.”

~

You wandered up his neck. Goosebumps formed under your touch. You moved further up to cup his cheekbone. He leaned in, like gravity steadily pushed him to you. His blue eyes glanced at your lips.

“Can I?” He whispered. You nodded, and he drifted closer. You closed the gap, pressing your lips to his for the very first time.

His arms moved up your back, pulling you deeper in. He didn’t want to let you go, and that was perfectly fine with you! You were happy to be in his arms as long as he liked.

Slowly, slowly, your lips parted and you floated an inch apart, gazing into each other awhile. It felt like a miracle, being able to do this. His eyes had never been bluer than they were right now, as they welled up with happy tears.

He swayed you side to side, and whispered: "Mon amour, I'm so happy to have you."

"Me too, Jean." You whispered back.

~

A breeze skirted along your skin, making you shiver.

"You're cold?" He asked, rubbing your arms up and down. "Let’s go inside already. I'll keep you warm in there, mon amour." He trilled, beginning to lead the way.