Amaryllis Dusk: Sad fluffiness with mostly Kaho and Eriol but hints of Eriol/Tomoyo. Hope you like it! I was in an angsty mood today so…result! Review, please!
Disclaimer: I do not own Card Captor Sakura.
When he closes the door softly behind him and turns to face the room, she is there, waiting for him. Her face is paler than usual and there is a strained quality about her that suggests brokenness.
He glances at the clock and yes, it is 1:42 in the morning, too late for her to be waiting for him to come home. He wonders why she is waiting when she knew that he would be late tonight, as always. Before he can say anything however, she is shaking her head, her magnificent red hair staying in place in the braid she is wearing, and her eyes are studiously avoiding his.
"She told me everything," she says.
A million and one excuses fly through his mind in the half second of silence that passes between them before he decides that it was time she knew anyway. He wants to say something, anything to erase that look from her face but he cannot think of anything so instead, he settles for a look of apologetic resignation.
"So it's true, then?"
"When did she tell you?"
She pauses at his scratched voice and he clears his throat and tries again. "When did she tell you?" He speaks as low as he possibly can, feeling as if he is treading on something very fragile and if he is any more rougher to it than he has already been, it will shatter.
She turns her head and does not look at him, "Yesterday." She does not speak about the telephone call, the girl's expressionless but somehow cruelly self-hateful voice on the other line as she explains about the stolen nights away, the indiscreet phone calls about nothing in general, the strolls through the park carefully not holding hands but heads still tilted affectionately towards each other, the whispered apology at the end of the explanation that had left her shaking, and then the final click as she hangs up.
"How long?" She finally asks, dreading the answer but feeling that she must know...that she will die if she does not know.
His eyes are calm, looking past her as if she was not there.
"Six months ago," he begins and at her recoil, shakes his head and adds, "Probably less. I haven't kept count."
"I see," she replies shakily, the first indication of weakness that she has shown so far. There is the sound of a car pulling up outside and both turn their heads in the direction of the sound. She gives a small half-smile and he sees a large leather suitcase beside her feet for the first time. "Are you…?"
"Leaving?" she supplies, her face regaining that drawn characteristic that makes him flinch, "Yes. I cannot stay here any longer."
He watches her get up quite steadily and pick up the suitcase, watches as she moves past him and to the recently closed door. At the door, she stops and turns to him. "Would it have been the same, Eriol-kun," for she could not be formal to him, even if he had been cheating on her with another woman, "if I had somehow done something different?" The plaintive way she asks this is enough to give him pause but he silently nods and watches something crumple inside her eyes.
"I see. Good-bye, then. I hope you are happy with her."
"I'm sorry, Kaho." And indeed, he is sorry because yes, he loves her but not as much as the other girl and he can tell she knows by the way she smiles politely at him.
"I'm sorry too."
In the door slam, he remembers the way the refrigerator magnets never quite knew how to spell her name and her voice when she is saying his name, the way no one else-not even Kaho-could.
He waits for five minutes, waiting to see if the noise had woken up his two other companions, slumbering peacefully upstairs and when there is no sound, no stirring upstairs, he walks tiredly to the living room where he picks up the phone and dials a number. Three rings and she picks up.
"Hello?" She is cautious and somehow, he feels better when he hears her voice.
"Tomoyo," he says after struggling for the perfect one-liner and coming up with nothing. "It's Eriol."
And he can tell, by her silence, that she already knew.