Violet Shadows

55

Christine thought the impossible. Considered it. Would it be so bad to be in a relationship with him? She already damned herself by buying Lexiard, staying here. It wasn't as if he wasn't attractive—then again, everyone was attractive in this world—then what was stopping her? Her own insecurity? Her wariness? Her pride?

Perhaps it was because she couldn't imagine herself being with him. Only Clara.

No, that wasn't it.

Nicol was a character. This place was a story. She used to see it that way. The passage of time shaped her perspective, but it was something she couldn't just ignore. She understood it then. Now these feelings, for reasons entirely burdensome, became as empty as shells. Her chest a cave of icy snow. What filled her with intrigue now chilled her.

"Roma," Nicol said, catching her horrified expression. "What's wrong?

If he met Clara, they could easily fall in love. It didn't even have to be her, just any her besides Christine. If Nicol had a lover, would he tease them as he did to her? Would he slur their rationality with tantalizing adoration? Witty banter? She could see it the way she read it: Clara would brush her lips against his, settling her arms around his neck. And he too, over time, would untether himself to her. Between them, their love ethereal and wondrous, there would be no room for anyone.

Not even Christine.

Christine never purposely hated anyone, to wish ill on any being, especially Clara, but it was hate. Nicol wasn't hers, but even so some part of her chest burned with the thought of him doing those things with anyone. She was afraid. She was afraid of losing him. All of them. Those memories she crafted, so perfectly fragile, had hardened inside of her like a pearl.

If she ended up following the story, she would never be able to see them again. Because Roma was not their friend and, obviously, someone never meant to know them this well. And so, if Christine was to follow her role, she would have to forget them all and leave.

Christine's lips trembled. Could she really be okay with that?

"Roma, look at me." Nicol took her hands, grip tainted with concern. "What's wrong?"

She said, "What should I do, Nicol?" What to follow: her heart or the story?

He blinked, pressing his hands tighter into hers. "Did something happen?"

Yes. Christine thought. I realized that I've been lying to myself from the beginning. I can't leave you because then it'll feel like dying. I'm too ashamed to try. I'm too selfish to think about Clara.

Her lips started moving with a new purpose. Her hands held his with little restraint. She had no will to lie. "I think I don't mind your feelings, Nicol. I don't find myself bothered by them." She whispered, "In fact, I think I feel the same way."

He stilled, his eyes listless. "That's a rather dangerous thing to proclaim so earnestly. You might give me false hope."

"The truth is, I want you to keep being my friend. I want to be the only friend you laugh with, the only one you can be honest with, the only one who can make you smile. Truly smile, not those cheap ones you fake out of false sincerity like tonight." With those dreams, the crippling shame came with it. "But I don't have the confidence to be with you."

Despite her way of leading towards a rejection, Nicol nodded. "I understand."

"No, you don't," Christine laughed. And who's fault was it that he didn't understand? She tightened their laced hands, finding the shape of his fingers comforting. "I know I've been brushing it off and pretending that everything with me is okay, but it's not."