“why are you here?” you heard a voice from behind. an all-too-familiar voice. it was entirely like him to sneak up on you without giving you a single clue of his whereabouts. you froze in your spot. “i couldn’t sleep,” there wasn’t much you could say before he kept going. “it’s dangerous out here at night. if it’s dangerous for na’vi, it’s deadly to you. if you can’t sleep, then walk around the campsite. you’re not supposed to be on this side of the forest anyway.” 

finally turning your body around to face him, you looked for him in his usual spot: up on a tree. he was right behind you, the only thing separating you was pandora air and a few meters. “if it’s dangerous for na’vi then why are you here? shouldn’t you be asleep?” he smiled. 

the two of you took a walk together, this was the only time of day when no one would be timing your strolls, no one would be expecting you anywhere anytime soon. work the next morning would be a nightmare, but the euphoria you felt at this moment was sure to carry you through the day–the week, even. you walked side by side ashe spoke. you had never heard him speak so much. it was usually you who would explain your ongoing research, ask him questions about both the vegetation and your use of the na’vi language. it felt like he knew everything about you, but you knew nothing of him–which you figured was probably safer.

this time, however, you stayed quiet and lent him a listening ear. his voice was calm, slow because every word was intentional, and his tale was just as you had expected. he told you about his family life, never naming names or giving too much away. from what you could gather, he was the son of a mighty warrior. possibly someone with a high rank in the community, which put a heavy weight on his shoulders. he came from a big family, which probably made him the eldest if he was carrying such a burden.

he had dreams of becoming a mighty warrior, leading like his father and fighting with his mother’s strength. he knew every single one of his aspirations would fall into place as long as he kept staying above expectations: talented warrior, spiritually aligned, with a strong and unwavering heart. 

every once in a while, you’d interject. only when he paused, you’d comment on the various moons of pandora. you named every single one of them despite suspecting he already knew them. other times, you’d reassure him that although you didn’t know too much about him, you had no doubts of his capabilities and strength. when the silence lingered for just a bit longer than it had, you took it as your turn to speak. 

“my name is (y/n), by the way. i don’t expect you to remember, or care, or do anything with it, but i-” he cut you off, “(y/n)?” he asked. both of you stopped walking, he said your name a few more times, looking at you for confirmation that he had it right. then he asked, “does it have a meaning?” shaking your head, you told him human names had meanings, but it wasn’t all that common for people to know said meaning. he nodded along, and you clarified you expected nothing out of having told him your name. if anything, it was an offering of sorts; he had shared so much of himself in one night, you felt like you needed to give him something of yours. 

“if i tell you my name, you can cause a lot of damage with it,”he began. you reiterated that there was no need for him to share something he was not ready for or outright did not want to. his companionship, the time he spent with you was more than you could ever ask for. 

you didn’t notice when you had circled back to the campsite, only upon seeing it did you realize you had blindly followed a na’vi warrior at night. he had no reason to bring you back safely, nor did he have any reason to give you the time of day. god knows what he could’ve done with your trust in a forest as dangerous as this one. instead, he opened himself up to you, promising to come back another night since it was his brother who had followed him during the day. 

“that was your younger brother? or do you have an older brother?” you asked. he paused, like he was really thinking about his family tree. “the eldest in my family is neteyam,” he said. a name. his brother’s name, you assumed. you asked once more, “so you have an older brother?” he shook his head, “i’m the oldest, and i will come back. in two nights, (y/n).”

neteyam, who had aspirations to become a strong leader and excellent warrior. neteyam, who sought to honor his parents’ legacy in everything he did, and yet continued to risk his life to come meet you–a human whose name he didn’t even learn until nearly a year into knowing her. neteyam, who endured constant teasing and speculation about who he could possibly be making amulets and armbands for. neteyam, who kept his promise and met you two nights later.

pt 1 2 3 4 5 6

ronal eventually left the tent too, she knew the forest boy was in good hands. given your relationship, it made the most sense to leave you alone with him during his final moments. your ears flattened, thinking of the times it was him holding you. since his arrival to the reef, you had a strange affinity towards one another–eldest daughter of the clan’s tsahik meets eldest son of toruk makto. 

tsireya did most of the heavy lifting when it came to teaching the sullys the technical practices of the reef na’vi. she was an excellent ilu rider, bubbly and welcoming. tonowari knew she was the perfect host. you, on the other hand, took on the role of guiding the sully kids spiritually. showing them the way of the sea, unifying their forest practices with the reef’s relationship with eywa. you even went as far as teaching them which herbs were most commonly used in medicinal practices–a lesson that was closely listened to by kiri. 

outside of the outright duties presented to you as the sullys adapted to their new environment, you found yourself being sought out continuously by neteyam. he initially used any and all excuses to justify his interest. suddenly the role of a tsakarem was the most interesting thing in the world. 

you started to invite him to your night swims, “the sea is its most calm at night if you stay near the shore,” you smiled. he claimed to need practice holding his breath underwater. his explanations were never that convincing, and you would’ve let him tag along regardless. then, you invited him to come with you looking for medicinal herbs and ointments both underwater and on land. 

suddenly it wasn’t him asking to tag along with stupid excuses. suddenly it was you who needed the help of a mighty warrior to complete the same tasks you had done on your own since the dawn of time. both of you knew that wasn’t really the case–he was an excellent swimmer and you were resourceful beyond your years. nevertheless, you just wanted to spend time together. 

neteyam confided in you in ways he had never been able to with anyone. you revered toruk makto as much as anyone, but it didn’t blind you as much as it might have an omatikaya. you had a high standing of your own, you understood what it was like to try to live up to the tales of your parent. golden children of your respective clans, it wasn’t a secret that you grew quite close in a relatively short amount of time. 

you were the first metkayina na’vi to ride an ikran–with neteyam. you flew together in the mornings, swam together at night. there were whispers and suspicions growing as more clan members began to notice how every time they saw either of you, the other wasn’t that far behind. rumors that were quickly shut down by your mother, who reminded the people that as tsakarem, you were already promised to the young olo’eyktan in training. 

you laid on the sand with neteyam one night, hearing the ocean tides rise and wind down, no lighting other than the many moons of pandoran skies. the air was particularly dense, neteyam had made you a songcord of sorts, detailing your relationship from the day he arrived at the reef. both of you knew what a gift of that nature meant. you also knew what accepting it meant. 

neither of you dared to look at the other, you simply laid next to each other, in silence, looking up at the sky. “my dad came from a star, you know” he began. you nodded. you apologized for your mother’s behavior upon meeting his family, adding your disagreement in calling the sully kids half blooded. he assured you there was no need to speak of what had already happened. 

“surely you know i…think highly of you,” your voice was quiet, finally turning to look at him. his body faced the sky, but his face was turned towards you, “and my intentions have been made clear too.” 

you sat up and rested your face on your knees. he followed after you almost instantly. you smiled at him, opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to the punch. 

“i would like to court you, formally,” he paused, “i know you’re tsakarem, you have a path and a promised mate. i know you’re metkayina and my home is the forest, but i see you.” silence overtook both of you. he had spoken everything you had been dreaming of hearing since your very first meeting. 

he was the most fascinating na’vi you had met, the only one who made the commitment of mating for life feel exciting–worth looking forward to–and not burdensome. 

“and i think you see me,” he finished. you gave him no chance before you responded, “neteyam, i see you.”

both of you smiled at each other. the air that used to be dense cleared. a weight lifted off both your shoulders. the secret was out and there was no coming back from it. neither of you went back to your sleeping quarters. his arms covered you like a blanket and his chest became a pillow for you to rest your head on. asleep by the shore, he felt it was a privilege to have you so close to him. 

you shared your first kiss that night. 

it was just you and neteyam inside the tsahik’s tent, and the whole clan could hear your weeping, calling his name repeatedly hoping he would wake up. his chest was no longer a support, but a lifeline. you had the songcord he made you attached to your top, dangling from the left side of your chest symbolizing his closeness to your heart. after meeting neteyam there wasn’t a conceivable world in which you could go on without him. alone, shaking, feeling his breaths get increasingly shallow, you made tsaheylu. 

his pain was yours, and you saw the omatikaya forest’s ikranay, the hallelujah mountains, his first clean kill, how his father marked his height with a knife carving a tree trunk. you saw rda helicopters and how he saved his mother from an avatar soldier. you felt the butterflies he felt upon seeing you, finally seeing yourself through his eyes. his hours of practice swimming and trying to bond with an ilu so he could pretend to not know anything and impress you with his talent. 

the chants for this ritual were unknown to you in their majority. in between sobs and gasps for air, you spoke what you knew and begged for eywa’s intercession. you sang to the songcord he had given you, composing as you went, and taking the melody from neteyam’s songcord. you made it something that was as much yours as it was his. 

ronal recognized your chants instantly and rushed back into the tent to see her daughter’s kuru bonded to a dying warrior. “senseless child,” she began, hissing. “you have condemned him as much as yourself.”

“i couldn’t let him die, mother, he is one of the people,” she reprimanded you for your stubbornness, “you are tsahik!” in any other instance, you would have never dared to talk back, let alone raise your voice at your mother and clan leader. 

“i am tsahik and you have gone against me. you are not the boy’s tsahik, what authority do you have to perform such a ritual? na’vi have died because of it.” 

you continued chanting, singing, occasionally lowering your head to listen for his heartbeat. it wasn’t steady by any means, but it wasn’t declining at its previous rate. the bioluminescent dots all over his face and body lit up–there was hope. 

“if he wakes up, you will be bonded. there are duties as tsakarem that involve your mate, your life partner, you know this. he is a fine warrior, but you have forfeited your role as tsahik. a role that belonged to you by birth and skill.” ronal spoke with no answer other than your frantic prayers to eywa. neteyam’s heartbeat was picking up and his breath steadied back to how you had found him in front of your tent.

“he asked to court me and i accepted. i forfeited my role long before bonding with him, mother.” 

“there is no guarantee he truly saw you as his mate. he belongs in the forest, daughter! surely the time would come when his family would move back to the forest, and then what? do you suggest he takes with him a reef na’vi? a na’vi that her clan needs? what is to happen if he finds a forest mate? you’ve bonded yourself to him already. he will struggle as much as you.” your mother’s voice quieted with the last sentence.

it wasn’t that she only saw you as a successor to her legacy. ronal saw what you were capable of as a healer in your own right, you were destined for high regard. her eldest daughter, who inherited her father’s kindness and her mother’s fervor. any na’vi would be lucky to call her their mate. should toruk makto’s son not see the value in her, should he be nothing more than infatuated with her beauty…

“should he prefer a forest mate, then i shall free him of any bond. i am merely a healer trying to save his life.” 

the way you looked at neteyam said everything but. your flattened ears, tear-soaked face, quivering voice from the exhaustion of chanting and screaming; no tsahik would weaken themselves to this extent for any warrior other than their mate. ronal kneeled next to you, not as tsahik, but as your helping mother. she removed the tropical leaf with ointment from neteyam’s wound and replaced it with ointment alone. she helped you hold him so the wound wouldn’t be touched.

ronal smiled, neteyam began to take deeper breaths until he was outright gasping for air. every suspicion of hers proved right, only her most skilled apprentice could successfully perform such a ritual on her own and with no supervision. the forest warrior was alive and would gain consciousness any minute. she patted her daughter’s back and left the pair alone–as she would’ve liked had she been healing her mate. 

your whispers were still frantic from the panic; you couldn’t quite decipher if he was alive or if eywa played some sort of twisted joke. “neteyam,” you paused, “ma neteyam,” silence, “yawnetu?” you had never used terms of endearment before, but you were alone and now more than ever you knew he was your beloved. even if he later found another, even if the carefree mornings and tender nights meant no more than young diversion. nothing mattered as long as he was okay.

his eyes opened and wandered around until they landed on you. “yawnetu,” he said, which made you smile instantly. you laughed–nervously– relieved that he was awake and speaking. a part of you felt embarrassed that he might have heard your meltdown, and that his first sight was you at your worst. you hadn’t left his side a single moment, barely had any feeling in your legs since you had kneeled for so long. “ma neteyam, how do you feel?” 

you had a million questions to ask, was he in pain? what could you do to make him more comfortable? did he need you to run and get him fresh water?

all questions were answered the moment he spoke, “i see you.”

he wasn’t the na’vi who sneaked around, watching you from below and keeping his bow pointed at you. sometimes he did, but it didn’t last more than a few seconds before he came down and spoke comfortably. your na’vi was getting better and he was able to speak at a more comfortable speed. he enjoyed hearing you talk about your research, nothing could’ve prepared him for the day he would be learning about his own forest from a sky person.

there were times when a warrior would injure themselves, or rituals would be celebrated, in which he began to recognize the herbs and flowers his grandmother used. both his mother and grandmother had an inkling that perhaps he was courting one of the tsahik’s apprentices and that was the cause for his sudden burst of knowledge. 

his siblings, too, often asked him where it was he disappeared to. they never received a concrete response. sometimes he claimed to practice his hunting skills, going on long tangents about how young warriors shouldn’t become overconfident. other times he lectured his siblings on the beauty of the forest and his desire to explore it entirely–despite already knowing said forest like the back of his hand. no one bought any of his excuses and lectures, but somehow he was agile enough to sneak away, nearly every day, for the past six months.

a streak that lo’ak was determined to end. neteyam may have been able to rant and lecture his way out of his other siblings’ inquiries, but that wasn’t going to fly anymore. his family had began teasing the eldest with rumors of courting an omatikaya healer apprentice, and if lo’ak had one defining trait it was that he was nosy. he wanted to know exactly where neteyam sneaked off to–who he was sneaking off for. 

his surprise was beyond words when he saw neteyam’s ikran fly towards the campsite their father had time and time again warned them about. how could it be that toruk makto’s golden child disobeyed such strict orders on the daily. he stayed far behind, close enough to see his brother’s path, but far enough to not be heard. most walking had to be done by foot, jumping from one tree to another, using large leaves to soften the fall and muffle its sound. 

he began to grow confident with each step he took, certain that nobody had followed him, and sure his brother didn’t suspect a thing. that was until he heard the sound of a breathing mask. the same one spider used; except spider was back at the hallelujah mountains.

there he was, the mighty warrior and son of toruk makto, handing a sky person the very amulet he had been crafting for weeks. your hands were much too small, the amulet that was intended to be worn as a wrist band ended up having to be worn a different way. you were grateful nonetheless, your smile broke into laughter, filled with excitement you couldn’t contain. perhaps this admiration wasn’t one-sided. 

“what the fuck are you doing, bro?” lo’ak interfered. your stepped back, unsure of who this na’vi was, what could happen upon being seen with the only omatikaya you had ever spoken to, a million thoughts raced through your head. 

neteyam’s voice, echoed in the background, not quite registering in your brain. all you found yourself doing was apologizing under your breath, in english and in na’vi, quietly mumbling apologies neither na’vi heard until you had stepped so far back you couldn’t see them anymore.

pt 1 2 3 4 5

it wasn’t too hard to get another field opportunity. your first weeks as a researcher in pandora, and your years with the research team on earth spoke for themselves. you were the only person from your team on earth who had a solid enough grasp on the na’vi tongue to be able to go on-site right away–yet useless whenever you had neteyam in front of you. on your first trials, you had brought rarer medicinal herbs than anybody else interning. surely a rough streak wasn’t enough to discard everything. 

you convinced both your supervisor and doctor augustine to let you back on site, at the very least to prove once and for all whether you had had sheer luck in your first few weeks. you were able to collect different types of samples over the course of three visits. your work did the pleading for you. months had passed since you last saw neteyam, though at least you were in the lineup for the permanent on-site team. 

he flew over the campsite, you snuck behind the shrubs and tall trees into the spot you had first seen him. he almost missed you when he noticed movement deeper into the trees. his ikran rested far enough to not be seen or heard. he was up on the trees again, much too tall for a human to be able to see. there you were. it had been months since he had seen you, but he knew it was you. 

“did you use the petals?” his voice was quiet, like he knew he wasn’t supposed to be there, to speak, to let you see him. he was just as you had remembered him. cat-like, quiet, bow pointed at you like he wasn’t imposing enough as is. 

you looked up at him, smiling, “i keep in my pocket.” you patted the right-side pocket in your pants. despite staying quiet, your mind raced with a million things to say. would you push your luck if you mentioned anything about having seen him in a while? would he even care? he did have his bow pointed at you. 

he nodded towards the campsite behind you, “too many sky people have been here, what is happening there?” you explained what you knew. no one would be moving in, per say, but researchers did have the intention of prolonging their stay and sticking around–without disturbing the na’vi. he paid attention, you could see his ears shift at the slightest rustle, but his gaze stayed on you. he didn’t move closer, but he also didn’t back away.

you mentioned being one of the team members who wanted to stay in pandora longer, really make good use of the campsite technology and the space that the forest people had granted. “there’s no use,” you tilted your head in confusion at his words, but he continued, “if you’re going to keep everything in you,” he pointed at your pocket. 

it took you a moment to understand what he said, your na’vi was still not advanced enough for you to immediately understand what was said to you, particularly not when you were already nervous. but you smiled, even made a comment about how the petals were too pretty to not preserve. your impatience grew as you two stared at each other in silence, knowing your time together was limited. with broken na’vi, you tried to tell him about your research. how you had been investigating some medicinal herbs. it seemed like there was a variant in the samples taken that could help humans with the symptoms that arose from the gravitational difference in pandora.

he listened for the most part, only stopping you once to try to guess the type of herb you described. you promised to show him next time.

pt 1 2 3 4

there was a hint of hope your reputation could save you from being sent back to earth, though it wasn’t so likely. weeks had passed and it seemed like everyone got their chance to prove themselves in comparison to your bad example. all you had were the petals you had been given by the na’vi. you knew they would be put to good research, you knew this was the whole reason for everything you had worked for. the sole purpose of understanding the forest and its flora. still, you held onto the petals. carried them inside any pocket you had on you. 

you tossed and turned incessantly, unable to shake the image of him, up on a tree you could never imagine climbing; the image of his reaching out, petals on the palm of his hand. expressive yellowish green eyes–you knew what the na’vi looked like, but this was different. he had his own distinct pattern of bioluminescent dots all over him. when the forest covered the sun and the natural light dimmed, you could see his face light up. 

“so, what’s the plan now?” your labmate wondered, shaking you from your thoughts when she sat on your bed. you furrowed your brows, “every time i try to talk to our supervisor he shrugs me off, scolds me if i get half a second of his time. at this point i might have to go to doctor augustine, and we all know the prognostic there.” 

she nodded along, noting how she had already slipped your name a few times when she got to go on-site. you sat up straight. “and? what happened?” she shrugged. there was something in her expression you couldn’t quite read. you opted to change the topic to the rumor that na’vi had been seen along the campsite.

“they’re trying to set up a semi-permanent lab inside the campsite. there’s a whole crew that’s in there everyday trying to make the remains somewhat livable. i don’t think anyone’s going to go as far as living there, but i do think there will be interns who land the full time gig in there. best of the best, you should be there,” she nudged your arm. you inquired again about the people of the forest. 

“one of the guys said he felt like he was being watched the entire time he was there, but when he tried to go deeper into the forest, doctor augustine caught him. hasn’t been allowed back on-site.”

you got up almost instantly and excused yourself. your labmate stood up too, calling out your name and asking where you were going.

“to plead my case!”

pt 1 2 3

your spirits were up until you looked up and saw there was a bow pointed at you. without a doubt, it was the same one you had seen on your last visit. you couldn’t see him, as he hid behind a large branch that covered everything but his bow. you dropped your bag, calling out to him that you had no weapons on you. as the bag dropped, you took a step away from it, with both of your hands raised as well. 

he stepped closer, still looking down at you, but now you could see him. you smiled, “we know each other,” you did your best to speak in na’vi–hoping it was good enough for him to understand. his ears flattened, and he stopped pointing his bow at you. still holding on to it, just not pointing it anymore. you introduced yourself and asked for his name. he spoke a little too fast for your understanding. all you got was that you were a sky person. 

“i, uh,” you trailed off, wondering how to convey that you were a researcher. “i want to learn about your forest. i take some herbs, try to see what they’re for. i did not tell that i saw you,” you glanced at your watch. if you stayed out for too long, you wouldn’t be hard to find. it would mean nothing whether you told anyone about him. faced with nothing but silence, you took your bag, walked backwards.

as soon as you turned around, you heard him come down from the tree. his speech was slow, like he was accommodating you, “are you a healer?” you stopped. you didn’t have much time left, but you also could not waste the opportunity he gave you. facing him again, you said, “i try. i know the connection of the people to the forest. i want to know why.”

he stepped closer, but you stepped back. there were a few flowers growing from some of the pasture under the tree where you had found him. without taking the stem, he extended his hand with only the petals. “tsahiks come to this part of the forest for this flower only. i don’t know what’s so special about it, but if you are a healer then it may be of use.” not even in your wildest dreams did you ever imagine you’d be standing in front of a na’vi, let alone that he would be handing you flower petals under the premise that you could be anywhere near the rank of a tsahik. “thank you,” you said in english before quickly switching to irayo. 

you heard voices near the campsite, which made you step back from him faster. you smiled at him before turning around to run back and meet everyone. “what were you doing back there?” inquired one of the crew members. you looked up like a deer in headlights, “nothing, i dropped my container,” there was a pause. “had to get it back.”

pt 1 2

this was your fifth time in a row assigned to collect samples from the forest. scientists knew little to no na’vi congregated in the old campsite, which made it the perfect destination to collect samples. particularly when it came to letting the interns get field experience. doctor augustine never let anyone go on site before receiving a lecture on safety, prudency towards the forest people, and other protocols. however, by the fifth time around, you felt pretty confident.

until you heard a rustle of leaves and other flora nearby. like something heavy had been dropped. you froze with herbs in one hand and a container in the other. your mind raced with the extensive list of creatures that could’ve caused the noise. palulukan were large creatures, but you couldn’t think of a reason for them to create such a noise. after waiting for a few moments, you continued as you were. 

your hands stayed shaking, and you tried your best to act quickly. that was until you heard what sounded like uneven footsteps. expecting to see a labmate or pilot, you turned to find a tall, slender, na’vi. it felt like looking in a mirror, the way he had the same horrified expression as you. “i see you,” your spoke, but the nerves hindered your voice. you hoped your hand gesture got your point across. he reciprocated, but the grip on his bow stayed strong.

barely turning your face away from him, you tried to side eye your pilot, wondering if they saw what you were seeing. you couldn’t see anyone around, like they had disappeared–so much for that safety lecture. in broken na’vi, you asked him, “may i have these?”

he stayed quiet. one step at a time, he walked backwards. you stayed frozen in place. your wide eyes never left his until he was no longer visible. you put the herbs in your hand into their container and ran back to the helicopter. your handwriting reflected the nerves you felt as you labeled your findings. the crew all came back and asked if you were okay, confused as to why you’d suddenly cut everyone’s time short. 

“you didn’t see that?” you asked, your voice had the slightest tinge for frantic. everyone shook their heads. “see what?” you asked about the loud thud, the leaves rustling. you saw a collective of heads tilting to the side. scared of what would happen if the military got word that na’vi were starting to get closer to the campsite, you stayed quiet. blamed it on sleep deprivation and nerves.

pt 1

oh babydoll, i can’t move on–

you felt your heart stop, blood down to the plants of your feet, when you saw him walk into the house. some girls greeted him, any sound was a blur the moment he smiled. years of thinking you had your feelings in check; the past was no more than that. no more than extensive knowledge of a person you treated like a stranger. 

no more than buying snacks for everyone, but making sure there was a bag of his favorite sour candy in the pantry. he’d never know it was you who brought them. 

your eyes followed him where he went, brows furrowed not in anger but in awe. the yearning in your gaze would undoubtedly link you to him if anybody else noticed. your lips formed the slightest frown to accompany your widened eyes. you introduced yourself as he pretended to learn your name for the first time. should anyone dare to speculate, looking at someone you just met with such eyes could only mean one thing. 

waiting on calls, flipping through stations–

on the drive over to the house, he switched stations, connected his phone to the car’s bluetooth for a playlist, decided whatever came organically through the radio was best, then opted for silence. he had plenty on his mind for the car ride to feel quite loud anyway. he parked his car right next to yours like second nature, no intention to keep your connection hidden. 

nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you again, in the same place, and not being able to kiss you to greet you. he smiled at everyone until his eyes met yours, and suddenly his smile was more of an eyebrow raise with his mouth agape. it felt like he finally found you again. so much of his time had been wondering where you were, what you were up to, if you thought of him at all. now here you were, certain you had each other on your minds or else you wouldn’t be here. 

“and your name?” he repeated it after you spoke, pretending he couldn’t hear you. playing strangers yet knowing your deepest insecurities and most sacred dreams. seeing you, talking to you, it felt like saying your name had spoken you into existence. exchanging names took him back to the day you met, before he had started keeping track of time in relation to you entering his life. 

i’m outclassed and it’s outrageous–

you sat together inside his car, him on the driver’s seat, suggesting that you cuddle in the backseat. you shook your head, forty minutes had passed and you were in utter silence. “i just don’t understand what is wrong with me, how i bored you, why you’re breaking up with me. i mean,” you paused for air. 

he tried to speak, but you cut him off, “you gave us an expiration date i didn’t even know about. you can’t understand how stupid that makes me feel; getting you presents for holidays you didn’t even plan on spending together. i ask you, and you say so much, but they’re just words. none of it makes any sense. it’s not my fault that you’re… i don’t know,” you sighed along with your last words, your voice breaking slightly. 

no matter what he said, the damage was done. a conversation that stemmed from a girl wanting reassurance from her boyfriend evolved into a confession about having thought about giving the relationship some time before deciding on breaking up definitively. you swore you’d never be the pleading type, the type to accept breadcrumbs just to have some semblance of what used to be.

i’ll take it all, babydoll–

you were the first in the house to wake up. for years now it had become a routine to get up early even if you had nothing planned for the morning. whether you used your time outside getting some steps in, reading, writing, anything but doomscrolling felt productive. you hoped to be quiet enough not to wake anyone, the coffee maker had a setting for tea. you knew you were the only one who used it, so it surprised you to see a mug already there, with freshly made lavender tea.

the pantry door closed carefully, like whoever was there was also doing their best not to wake anyone. you turned to see who it was. you should’ve known. 

“i was looking for some honey,” he said. completely casual. like it hadn’t been years since he had prepared your morning tea. you smiled, trying to hide the attacks your heart repeatedly made to your chest. there was a new tingling in your stomach when you looked at his hands, holding a jar of honey.

you approached him and sat on one of the stools in front of the counter. he tried to slide you your drink without spilling and asked what step you were in of your morning routine, making you scoff. it annoyed you how much he remembered, how despite the time that had passed, he still knew you. assuring him there was no morning routine anymore, how you were perfectly content doomscrolling your morning away, he shook his head.

“whatever makes you feel better,” his tone mocked you, knowing you were much too proud to accept you hadn’t changed, reinvented yourself entirely, since he knew you. as soon as he turned around, you wasted no time to throw one of the seat cushions at him. it hit him behind his head and you almost laughed out loud. 

your hands covered your mouth, but the way your shoulders moved up and down gave you away. he turned around with a surprised look. not wanting to speak too loud, he pointed to the mug on the counter, then pointing to the seat cushion.

there was no hesitation in his step as he made his way back to you, your face resting on your hand, staring at him directly. you had a mischievous grin on your face like a kid with a new toy. like you were exactly where you wanted to be. it felt good to look at him again and know he’s walking right back to you. 

whatever’s been weighing you down– 

the night made it hard for him to be able to look at you, all he could make out was that you had your head down, occasionally looking to the side when you needed to wipe a tear. you hoped he wouldn’t notice you were crying, but the crickets’ chirping can only be so loud, and sniffling tends to be unmistakable. not to mention his gaze didn’t leave you for a single moment. 

his voice was quiet, but still steadier than yours. he spoke slowly to prevent it from breaking. it felt hypocritical to cry when he was the one who put you in this position. he argued relationships ought to be effortless. there was no reason for either of you to need to work so hard. he reached for your hand, but you moved it to your lap. fidgeting with your fingers. you turned to him, eyes completely crystallized. 

“we’re different people, with different customs, upbringings, cultures,” you gasped for air, “how can you expect to spend a lifetime with someone without putting in any work. relationships take effort, it’s what makes us feel loved.”

you heard him mumble a whispered apology. he reached for both of your hands, this time more for himself than for you, but you moved once more. 

“i don’t want you to touch me.”

we both know exactly what i’m thinking–

your laughter filled the room unintentionally. your friend swore if you sat under the table on your birthday it had the same effect as if you had done it on new year’s. “it’s a new year! in your life! for you!” she argued. in a giggling fit, you took your drink and sat under the table, the girls took your picture–cheeks blushing, hair a little disheveled, a smile you couldn’t fake. you asked how long you needed to stay, but they went on about how you needed some grapes too. 

eventually you made your way back out, excused yourself to use the bathroom. you walked straight as you looked back at your friends, reacting too slowly to their cues that you needed to watch out. 

“excuse me, i’m sorry,” he apologized. it was you who had bumped into him. like a deer in headlights, you looked at him as if you had just seen a ghost. or at least that’s how he had interpreted it. your eyes were wide, brows furrowed–in awe. you tried to speak but nothing came out, and even if it had, it wouldn’t have helped you much. you were convinced you had hallucinated a deity. if you had previously said you hated men, you hated every man but him. 

he asked if you felt okay, tilting his head to the side in confusion. you mirrored him, humming softly. you were in a trance, you blinked slowly in fear he would disappear by the time your eyes opened again. even if you never saw him again, you knew he’d haunt your dreams. 

you saw him again, and he haunted your dreams every day after.