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What if they weren't the one you chose in this timeline?
Like a rhyme that's as old as time, we have MC — you, who had lived to forget one too many timelines as they see you be reborn to a person who has to relearn a language that only you two once knew.
But what if this time, you're singing a whole different melody from theirs?
Where their harmony is merely a distant echo between time and the space?
Imagine how Xavier's heart resounded that day when he heard that you have a boyfriend who isn't him — a blackhole. It was quiet, hollow, almost invisible, yet the expanse of it was more than he could fathom and carry for himself. But he simply nodded, face collected in his usual cool and aloof expression.
"I see,"
His serene blue eyes that could be mistaken for an ocean remained steady on you, never once looking away despite the way his chest constricts as he sat across the table from you. A round cafe table that's too small for a meal to share, but too big of a table to bridge what had been forgotten.
"Does he treat you well?"
Continues the man in front of you, sitting almost stiffly now as he waits for your response. A question that might give him a flicker of hope that he might have a chance.
But you nodded with that same warm smile that he had etched and sworn into the constellations above. The admission was nothing short of bittersweet. At the least, you were happy, right? But that person isn't him.
That same person who had searched the galaxies for answers to keep you alive, that same person who crowned you Queen to save from your awful fate, that same person who chose to live in his solitude yet bloodshed life, and that same person who had travelled back in time to you and amidst a bleak situation, found hope that he could lay his life on Earth to protect you, even when you were younger.
But it was okay. He could see how radiant you were like that star tassel you had given him then; your eyes and lips full of mirth as you are finally with someone you love.
And maybe.. His mission wasn't all in vain after all.
Rafayel asks in his usual smooth and honeyed voice, sitting on his stool as he momentarily stops painting for a moment to look at you. He could see the way your shoulders moved along with your exasperated sigh as you reacted to his statement.
He shouldn't have driven himself to a question earlier that would eventually make him see that — was it sympathy or pity — on your face. The thing was, his earlier question was only silly, one that randomly popped in his head like a trivia in passing. If he had known that you'd be saying 'yes' to the fact that you are fancying someone, he wouldn't have begun then.
The paintbrush in between his fingers suddenly felt too heavy to hold, even the usual boyish smile he reserved only for her felt like slipping away from his lips. He hid the depth of his turmoil in his fingers, the grip on the wood only tightening as he spoke.
"Why do you look so down? It's not like—"
Just in time before his own careless tongue could make things messier, he had caught himself and cut himself off with a laugh instead. Slipping away from the stool, placing the palette and brush haphazardly on it, he walked to you and held your shoulders firmly yet assuringly, making you look despite yourself.
"Are you afraid I won't approve of him? Puh-lease, I'm sure you have fine tastes. After all, you wouldn't be willing to be my bodyguard if otherwise, right?"
The tension in your shoulders had eased and a smile had cracked on your lips, unaware that the jest he spoke of was deeper than the depths of the sea that you had witnessed countless of times when you're watching over him as he picked shells on the bay.
Rafayel would run to you happily, rambling about the possible pigments he could produce with it and see you smile radiantly than the setting sun, replacing the weariness that left its existence on your lips — and that's the very subject that Rafayel would always turn into his masterpiece.
But you didn't know that every painting and sculptures that ever filled up the space of his studio and exhibits were all you. Every chiseled marble and brushstrokes? They all had you in mind. Taking shape and form in ways he couldn't even imagine.
As the phone rang in your pocket, you fished out your phone, flashing that familiar caller ID. Hesitantly raising your gaze to look at Rafayel, searching for any sign that he might throw a tantrum — there wasn't.
Instead, he was looking at you with a smile as he fought every bit in his fiber to gently caress your cheek. Giving your shoulder one last squeeze, he had finally stepped back and gave you a nod.
"Go on, take the call. I'm not that harsh of an employer, okay?"
As you stepped out to take the call and clock out for the day, Rafayel reluctantly returned to his canvas, that same object that echoed the same ocean that had brought you two together in the past.
Maybe in another life, it'll be your names in the end rather than in footnotes, and he wouldn't have to sign it off with an elegy to his beloved bride. But by then, who knows if the ocean would be there to greet you?
Once you broke the news, Caleb had almost dropped the plate, sending his world in a dizzying spell. You were supposed to be the one that's constant in his life, the anchor in a storm, the light in a fog, the signal in space. And all of this had to happen in a place you both considered as a sanctuary — his home.
"Really now?"
He eventually said as he made his way to you, placing down the plate of sliced up apples that were shaped in cranes — just like how you wanted. You were at his place, sitting on his couch just like every other weekend to make up for lost time just like any other time. Of course, this was the least thing he had thought of happening. And when he turned his face to you? Not only could you see the way his brows subtly hardened, but his voice had tightened itself as way in forced nonchalance.
You could only nod though, because what use is there to lie in front of him? When your voice and expression spoke nothing of the truth, and that gleam in your eyes that Caleb thought that only he could have it had a certain softness to it when your mind went back to that certain person that had claimed your heart before he could.
Maybe he was too late?
If only he hadn’t been hiding in the pretenses of siblinghood, skirting around the truth that echoed in his heart and happily played the role of your older brother. Maybe he shouldn’t have been satisfied with just that then. Maybe he shouldn’t have waited patiently for the right time. Because at the cost of waiting for the right time to arrive, he had missed it completely — and perhaps, there was never going to be a right time.
“Right, right..”
The evident anger— no, betrayal, or maybe a mix of both, diffused into something quieter. It was a far cry from acceptance and surrender, but rather, something close to a coffin being closed and buried in the earths. It felt like losing a part of him, to which probably isn’t farther from the truth actually. He needed to take himself apart and rewire again to learn to live without her by her side.
..At least not in the way he had hoped for.
All the emotions that meant to bubble up into something volatile only curled in his fingers at the last restraint.
(i have resurrected, college is simply driving me crazy xo)
Prompt is by @watarfallar again >:3
link
Idk if this looks ugly, buuuuuut i wanted to try a new type of coloring sooo there's that. I might update this with the 2nd version soon (black and white) :DDDD
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
