sitting here in a half lit room, trying not to think about the resume that’s in the other window. hmm. obviously this means I should write some wrapped up.
——- prompt: CHOICES ——-
January 24, 2001.
She could say that is was a day that she would never be able to forget. She could claim that she knew exactly what she had been doing, what she had gotten herself into, and who she was dealing with. She could probably even bluff her way through it, but the truth of the matter is that only a couple of weeks later the details have mostly faded away.
The point where things start to get blurry is pretty easy to recall. She can remember crawling out of her bedroom window and dropping down to ground level. She remembers the rush of unleashing her magic and assuming her true form. She remembers the frantic rush to the temple as a vague blur of rooftops and leaps. The fear that had pounded in her heart, the worry that she would be too late to save her friends… those she remembers clearly.
It’s when she gets to the shrine that things go sideways. She doesn’t remember the fight. Not the landing and speech, not the first blow either by her or to her. Nothing remains, not even to form the bones of her nightmares. It is as thought the battle never happened.
After the battle, though… she remembers standing in the tree behind Hikawa Jinja, her breath coming in harsh gasps. She remembers seeing her teammates, her dearest friends and allies, laid out around her. She remembers the certainty that they were healed and whole, with no chance of dying and leaving her again. She doesn’t remember why she was so certain.
She recalls sinking down onto her knees, half sobbing, when he stepped out of the air in front of her. She doesn’t remember what it was that he said to her as his introduction, but she very clearly recalls being annoyed. Annoyed and no little amount relieved. It was a feeling that burrowed so deeply into her the only thing she was about to compare it to is the feeling of comfort and family that the Senshi had always given her.
She had known him once, in a life before her current one, obviously. Known him and trusted him.
She can remember his name being on the tip of her tongue, and trying to greet him. She also remembers how he had barely let the first syllable of his name escape her before he covered her mouth with one hand.
“No,” is the first clear memory she has of his voice. “We’ve already sent out signal flares with that little light show of ours. Try not to dig me any deeper here, babe.”
She distinctly remembers knowing that, when she finally pulled his hand way from her mouth, it was only because he had let her.
“Why do I know you?”
The man looks so indescribably sad at the question, and it leaves her heart aching with sympathy for him. She can remember wanting to take the words back as soon as they had left her mouth, despite how desperately she wants to know how they are connected.
“Well I was just inside of you.”
She can only remember bits and pieces of the conversation that followed that declaration. The clearest images in her head are of a smirk and a laugh.
“You said ‘yes’ to me, once, a long time ago.”
There is an ancient weariness to him, and a heart break that could only be described as godforsaken. Something in that turn of phrase digs at her with sharp thorns of half remembered rage.
“You gave me shelter when there was no one else.”
More than likely, the reason that she doesn’t have clear memories of that night is because of how it ended. He had stepped in close, hands settling on her face. She knows that he was closer than she let anyone outside of Mamoru get to her, and remembers just how unnerving his golden-brown stare was. Remembers the slide of fingers up the side of her face before resting on her forehead.
“I will only ask this once. Yes or no. Do you want this?”
She doesn’t remember what part of the conversation they were at, or even what the conversation was about. She doesn’t quite know what the question was referring too, either. She knows, however, that she said yes to him once again. She knows this because she knows who he is. She knows what he is. She knows what she once was.
This is knowledge that has been seared into her very soul as surely as the brand under her left breast. It looks a little like a feather, shiny and white with a shimmer of magic to it.
She can’t remember her life as Laufey, but she remembers Laufey’s choice. Her memories of Serenity’s life are as filled with holes as they ever were, but she remembers Serenity’s choice. She even remembers Gabriel’s choice, curled as it is around her human soul. It is in the warmth and light and kindness that has bound them together since the first time her soul said “Yes”
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and now I am going to bed. rawr