Never Get There [Wolf & Apotheosis]

He loves me for real. It's the first thought in her head again when he sits down beside her, and she curls up to him. The night air is warm but she wants to be even warmer. She wants to feel his presence, the presence of someone who loves her and who she loves back.

He loves me for real. It's the quickly-growing mantra in her head again when he gives her the potion. She'd never played the holiday content for the couple's items, because she never had anyone to share them with. But here he is, revealing how thoughtful he is. Rings. Potions for an anniversary. He meant it. He'd meant all of those words, he meant these words too. All of them, everything.

He loves me for real. It's the thought she has as her eyes glitter with tears again and she smiles so widely. "I'd love to," she says. "I'd love to." She repeats it again because she wants him to know she's serious about that, before she quaffs the other half. Her lips touching where his had been, an indirect kiss that thrills her quietly almost as much as his kisses to her lips do. She doesn't even ask him what the potion does; she wants to find out with him.

It's the happiest she's ever felt in her life.

Something so beautiful in front of her eyes, yet the most beautiful thing is that he is here. That his arm is around her, that he lifts her chin up to the night air to look at the moon, that he praises the moment of the moon because it looks like her eyes. She's awestruck. This was better than anything she was expecting. Her mouth opens slightly and she can't find anything to say at all, driven so visibly bereft of speech that it's obvious what's happened.

But then her eyes meet his.

"I was wrong."

"Your eyes are far more beautiful."

She understands now.

Every bad thing that's ever happened to her, every time she's contemplated death by her own hand, every time she's slipped into sleep and hoped that she could be reunited with them again--she had to live through all of that for a reason: he is hers.

He was given to her by fate for her to find happiness at the end of all of her trials and torments. He is the happy ending that all of her childhood storybooks promised her. He is hers.

He loves her for real. Because he is her soulmate, he is her promised one, he is the man she wants, and is going, to spend the rest of her life with. He is hers.

She doesn't have to worry anymore. She doesn't have to be sad anymore. All of the pain will only ever be bliss with him again. She is beautiful to him, as beautiful as he is to her. He is hers.

"I love you so much," she says, leaning in. So slowly she leans in. She wants that kiss from her soulmate. She wants that kiss from her promised one. It feels for all the world like if he accepts her on his lips, if he lets her kiss him for a long, long moment, then it's settled. He's hers. She will never be in pain again. These are the grandest of lies that her head has spun to her, and she doesn't realize how she's simply caught in this web. It's not even entirely of his own making. It's some--half-written delusion that she's murmuring to herself in her head.

Just an inch away from his lips, an inch away from claiming that forever-happiness, that golden storybook ending that's right there on the horizon of his mouth, she dares to breathe a question. Something that might strike her dead from joy if he answers a certain way. Something that might strike her dead from pain if he answers another.

"Will you love me forever?"

Because he loves her now for real. That's the way it feels in her head, her heart, her mind. It's a fact, her reality, the thing that she's wrapped her entire being around. It isn't an illusion. How could it be when her feelings for him are so very real?

She doesn't feel anything anymore. None of the pain. None of the darkness. Nothing. He's giving her absolution. He's giving her freedom. She's been a prisoner for so long in the darkness of her own soul and--here he comes to free her. Her heart sings. Her head is empty of every single doubt she's ever had about herself, about him, about them.

She will never feel pain ever again. It'll only be him and the life that she leads with him forever onward from this point. Where will they go from here? The world is so much bigger now than her dusty home in the real world. They could do anything together. She could take him anywhere. Any place in the world, if he wanted it, could be their next place together. Anywhere in the world, here, there, anywhere. It doesn't matter. His desire is her desire. Their desire. It is no longer just herself, but it's him, and their love.

She draws back away from him one long, long moment later. Her eyes utterly sparkling with tears. They fall so freely, so quickly, no one could think to catch them for her. She doesn't mind. She knows he won't mind. He loves me.

"I'll send you my phone number," she says in a whisper, still so struck with awe and joy that she's smiling despite the little wobble of her lips from her tears. "And any other way you'd like to keep in touch." She would have asked to do so in another date or two if she'd managed the courage. But now she knows: he loves her. Why would he say no to this? To them becoming more than just lovers in Savior's digital landscape? He will never again cause her pain. She will never feel pain again. It was the promise sealed by their lips.

She’s crying again, and for one hopeless moment he thinks he’s said the wrong thing. That he’d screwed up the one thing he can do for her. But she smiles at him and he knows that he hasn’t. That he’s somehow managed to work through the minefield to find a way to her. He chases the tears from her face again.

How does she love me?

It doesn’t make any sense, but here they are. Here he is holding something as delicate as her heart in his hands and hoping that he can somehow manage to keep it safe. She promises him that she’ll give him her phone number and he nods dumbly. Of course he’ll accept.

Marsward will be thrilled.

“You can DM me anytime here.” He says. Reminding her that they have this whole grand world to explore together. It’s not like they can meet in real life anyways. He’s always staying up to meet her here as it is. Or her to meet him. They know that their time zones are far apart from one another. It’s a fact that they’ve lamented about previously. “Once you DM me your number you’ll be able to text me too. Though…”

He laughs a little lightly. “I spend most of my time here. It’s where I work.” As an escort. She’s not his only client, but she’s been by far his best one. He’d had to give up his job in real life to do what Marsward wanted him to do here. Not that it was much of a loss, he made almost twice as much money as an escort on Savior than he had as a driver in real life.

She's reminded again--she has to share him with the world. He has to go talk with other people. Spend time with other people. A part of her wants to be jealous. A part of her from an hour ago would have simply resigned herself to the fact that he was simply putting on an act for her, because she knew she wasn't special enough to be his only client. Right now, nothing can touch her.

"I'm here most of the time, too," she admits. "I just--didn't want to bother you before. I know you have everyone else and..."

She has an idea. But it involves money. She doesn't want to talk about it so openly here. She just wants to be in his company. His comfort. His presence. "Do you have plans for the rest of the night?" she asks finally. It's her way of inquiring if he has other clients, or if she might be able to buy more time with him.

Wolf relaxes a slight bit when she accepts everything so easily. It would be impossible if she were to for some reason become totally jealous and demand all of his time or anything else that he’d be unable to give her. That this is enough for her sends another little pang through his heart. He looks into her eyes and hopes that he can somehow - impossible though it is - remain enough for her like this for the ever-after that she’s looking for.

She asks if he has plans for the rest of the night and he doesn’t even have to check his messages. He knows the answer. “I got up early just for this; for you. I’m yours until you fall asleep.”

In truth he was a bit tired when he woke up from getting up so early, but that was quickly giving way to the wakefulness of the day. Something that was definitely enhanced by the roiling emotions as well as the food that he’d managed to eat from earlier. Which meant they had hours if she wanted them. Hours and hours.

“What do you have in mind?” The full violet moon hasn’t faded yet. It hovers in the air above them, washing everything in that soft sweet color. They could go anywhere and it would be so - until they log off or the potion expires.

I'm yours until you fall asleep is such a wonderful turn of phrase to her. For once in her life, the dream is not something that's over when she wakes up, but something that is real. The idea of falling asleep next to him, and then to wake up and in the morning, know that he is hers, even if he won't necessarily be there when she logs on again...

Maybe that's what she wants tonight. She smiles brightly at him, her eyes sparkling again. "I want to go somewhere with you," she says. "Somewhere where I can talk alone with you for hours until I'm nodding off in my helmet. As close to falling asleep while holding your hand as I can be."

She finds herself leaning in closer again. Her pull to him is magnetic. It makes sense to her that it is. They are soulmates. He is her promised one. Now that she has him, has heard him promise his love to her--they have a connection. "I want to talk more about poetry," she says. "And other things that we like. I--I don't ever talk to people much about the real me."

Where can he take her that they’ll be alone for hours? The game is alive with people at all hours of the day and night. He doubts there’s many places, if any that they could go and be guaranteed to be alone. Here… on the rooftop with her, is perhaps one of the only places nearby that he can think of where they might be undisturbed for a good long time. Who else would think to climb up here?

He can’t think of anything, so he simply smiles at her. “Where would you like to go?” After all, she might have an idea of a location where they can be together and talk. Somewhere in mind.

Wolf reaches out and touches her hair, rubbing it with his fingertips. If she’s anything like him, she must crave the touch of the person she cares for. His touch. The truth is that her hair is incredibly soft and wavy. So nice under his fingertips. Cheater. Was it cheating if Marsward wanted him to do it?

“I’ll go wherever would make you happy. We can talk about poetry; and whatever else is on your mind. Really, it sounds… nice. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone I could talk to about poetry.” He ducks his head. He doesn’t know why he told her that he liked poetry. It was something about him that no one knew. Not even Marsward.