Canta per Me

Facts.

You used to live by them. That changed, but the way and reasons why it did are things you don’t really want to think about. In all honesty, you’re not sure you’ll ever want to think about them, but it’s best to hope, and hope for the best.

It’s funny now, though. You were never one for fiction and yet it’s all you can think about, now.

In a world full of her whispers, of her touch, it’s all you can think about, now. It’s all you’ll ever think about, forever.

And it isn’t as though she’s dying and you’ll never be able to see her again. It isn’t that at all.

The simple fact of the matter is –facts again and you know that some things, you will never outgrow– that she’s beyond your reach for reasons you don’t really understand.

Or maybe you do understand them. Actually, you probably do. You’ve always been an escape artist, of sorts. You pretend that things don’t catch up to you and smile like you mean it because you should and everyone expects you to. Except that you don’t, and that means something, after all.

But despite the facts and regardless of fiction, beyond all logic and rhyme and reason, you are aware that you have become irrationally attached to her and all that she presents.

She is beautiful, impossibly so, and she says that she loves you.

She loves you honestly, brokenly, with such raw warmth, and in spite of all your flaws, she loves you.

And even though it’s been over a year since you found out, you still don’t understand why.

The lights go out and you are left bathed in near-total darkness. Your laptop’s screen has dimmed now that your power source has gone out, and you are left briefly annoyed.

Ever since you were a child, you have always been afraid of the dark. You aren’t sure why, since it isn’t like you’ve been assaulted in an alleyway or been locked inside a closet for hours on end when you were small.

But you aren’t afraid this time, and really, it’s not impossible to guess why. You’re dense, but not that dense.

You can hear her breathing, moving in the other room and you smile because it’s all you can do to stop yourself from sighing in relief. And you find it terribly strange because you’ve never really relied on anyone for anything, before, and this is a change, not welcome yet not rejected, and your heart flutters in your stomach even though you know this should be normal.

She’s your best friend. So it should be normal.

But it’s not.

And somehow, as though she can sense the changes in your mood, she’s there. Her very presence comforts you. But then again, she’s always been that way. Kind enough for the both of you. Kind enough for the world.

“Hi…”

And she stretches it out a bit awkwardly, standing against the glow of your laptop. You set it aside and grin because you love making her feel awkward and because in some strange part of your mind, you find it cute when she’s flustered. Which, now that you think about it, does not happen often enough.

“Hey.” You greet her, and your façade is shining through again.

You don’t know why you’re trying to hide what you’re feeling but it just comes naturally so you let it. And besides, she sees through it. She always does.

She’s wonderful, that way. And at any rate, she’s always been the better actress.

“What are you doing up?” She asks you, fidgeting at the door and you motion for her to come join you on the bed.

And you don’t mean for it to look flirtatious and ‘come-hither’-y but it just comes out that way. So you smile and go along with it because it’s better than feeling awkward.

“I was thinking.” You reply, and smile when she sits down beside you.

She nods and blonde strands of her hair slide against her neck. She has her hair up, tonight, which has always looked nice on her. Always.

“What about?”

She smiles back at you, really rather crookedly, and you have to restrain yourself from doing something stupid. And in order to do that, you close your laptop and set it on the floor, and this time, you are left in total darkness. You lie down and close your eyes, wishing you could stop the pounding of your heart, because it’s not supposed to be happening for more reasons than one.

“I was thinking about you.”

The words leave your mouth unbidden. You feel her shift. Her warmth is suddenly above you, around you, and it’s harder to breathe. Her nose skims the skin of your temple and her breath hits your cheek and it takes you a while to process what she’s saying because she’s so distracting.

“What were you thinking about me?”

And it isn’t fair to you, because she isn’t supposed to be the seductive one in your relationship.

“How nice you are…”

She kisses your cheek and withdraws, and mixes of disappointment and relief are not new to you but this one bothers you more than usual.

“I’m not that nice.” She says, and there’s something strange in her voice, now.

There’s something strange in her voice, and you don’t want it there, anymore.

“Canta per me, Fate-chan…”

It’s a whisper but you’re sure she hears it because it’s the only other sound in your shared apartment besides your breathing. She shifts again and you feel her sigh and that’s funny to you because you know she’s never been able to deny you.

“What do you want me to sing…?”

You sit up, this time, and you press yourself against her shoulder, seeking the one spot on her body that you can honestly say is yours and yours alone. Because once upon a time, you had both settled on the fact that her neck was yours and you’ve never let her forget it.

“Whatever you want…”

She leans against you. It takes her a few moments to gather herself, but when she does, when she opens her mouth and sings, it’s beautiful. It’s always beautiful.

“‘We've got to get better,’ I said, ‘It's all in your head.’
We could live through these letters or forget it all together.
See the months, they don't matter, it's the days I can't take,
When the hours move to minutes and I'm seconds away…”

She takes a deep breath, and she loves you. It’s so terribly apparent, because even though she has a good poker face, everything is always revealed through her voice.

When it cracks, and it shakes, everything shows through.

“Just ask the question, come untie the knot.
Say you won't care, say you won't care…
Retrace the steps… as if we forgot,
Say you won't care, say you won't care…
Try to avoid it, but there's not a doubt,
And there's one thing I can do nothing about…”

Her voice breaks. And you love her. You love her. But she doesn’t know it yet.

“When all that we need is just a reaction,
It's too much to ask for when there's no attraction anymore…
If chasing our dreams is just a distraction,
I want to remember when I know that I can't go back…

Just ask the question, come untie the knot.
Say you won't care, say you won't care…
Retrace the steps… as if we forgot,
Say you won't care, say you won't care…
Try to avoid it, but there's not a doubt,
And there’s one thing I can do nothing…
There's one thing I can do nothing…
There's one thing I can do nothing about.”

You grip her arm tightly and press your face to the spot that is yours and yours alone.

“Just ask the question, come untie the knot.
Say you won't care, say you won't care…
Retrace the steps as if we forgot,
Say you won't care, say you won't care…
Try to avoid it, but there's not a doubt,
And there's one thing I can do nothing…
There's one thing I can do nothing…
There's one thing I can do nothing about…”

She has a beautiful voice.

An honest voice.

And you love her.

She just doesn’t know it yet.

A/N: Happy Birthday, Alicia. I adore you.

PS: I'm writing and working, and I'm reeeeeally sorry I haven't updated yet. DX