Crono and I understand each other.
We've been best friends since as long as I can remember, sometimes more on the rare occasions that the mood would strike us. He was my first kiss. Over time, those passionate feelings mellowed out. Like an ocean, our respect for each other runs deep, stirring emotions on the bottom that no human eye can ever see. But we feel it. We know what lays just beneath the turbulent, wavy surface we show to the world.
People often hear us bantering with each other, mistaking our spats as signs of a friendship on the rocks. To be more precise, they hear me yelling at him while he stands there and takes it. Lucca, the shrew inventor, badmouthing her "friend" yet again. They take his silence for anger. How far from the truth that is.
Crono and I understand each other.
He is a quiet sort of man, not given to loud outbursts like me or the Princess. What he has to say, he says it with his gestures, and expressions, and those eyes that can pin a person in place and read their soul. He only speaks when he has something important to say. I admire him for that.
Marle, on the other hand, gets so mad at him for it. "Why don't you ever talk to me, Crono?" she asks. "I can't get into your head! You have to tell me what it is you're thinking. Do you love me? Hate me? We've been together for a year now. You never open up! No, don't look away!" He does so anyway, dropping his eyes to the floor in a move I know so well. The Princess only sees what she wants to see and dissolves into tears, running from my house or her room or wherever we happen to be at the time.
Distressed, Crono looks at me. "It's okay," I tell him, as I have told him many times before. "She'll get used to it, one day."
Marle doesn't understand Crono.
"Lucca, tell me what it is I'm doing wrong," she says to me on another occasion. Her pretty face is pinched with worry as she chews her bottom lip. "I try to be patient with him. I try my very best! But he's so stubborn! Not once has he ever told me how he feels about me."
"I think it's safe to say that he likes you very much," I reply with a smile. "He gives you flowers and candy. I know for a fact he takes you on more moonlight picnics than any other woman I know."
"But he won't say it! How can you be so sure of his feelings?"
"Sometimes people can't express themselves that way, Marle. You have to look deeper than what mere words would convey."
She throws her hands up in the air. "But that's so...so silly! He shouldn't feel that way around me. I swear, if I don't get a verbal response out of him soon, I'm going to go crazy! Lucca, you're his friend. Tell him to talk to me! Tell him how much his silence upsets me!"
I can't blame her for the way she feels. She loves a man of few words, and as articulate as she is, she can't comprehend that others aren't the same way. She is a Princess, accustomed to being able to order people around. Sometimes she forgets that we are her friends, and a bit of her bossy side shows through. She can't help it, it's who she is. We wouldn't have her any other way.
Crono and I understand her.
We understand that she needs time to get used to this sort of relationship. She's mistaking it for being one-sided, and it's not. Every time he watches her, I can see it in his face. She turns her head and her hair catches the light. He smiles. She walks from one end of the room to the other on some menial task, and his eyes are on her the whole way. They glow with such pride and adoration of her that it's a wonder she can't see it herself.
Sometimes, I'm glad to get away from Marle for a while. She's a good friend, but a real chatterbox. And while I enjoy spending time with her, the days I like best are the ones where Crono and I sit around my house in perfect, amiable silence. The only noises are the sound of two people breathing, my screwdriver twisting a screw into place, and the whuff of air as he practices his sword techniques. There is such a serene quality of those days. The world is at peace, with no threat of destruction. There is no need to rush with our lives anymore. We can afford to just stand around, savoring the moment, the friendship, and not feel like we have to fill the silence with talking.
And that's what I like about him most of all. He's my friend, my much needed peace. He may not tell me how much I mean to him with words, but his calming presence at my back, the hiss of his sword in the air, and the knowledge that he will always be there for me are what show it. Just knowing that I can call out to him if I need to is enough for me. Words don't have to be said for me to realize that.
So now I sit, watching him playing cards with our blonde-headed friend. She is going on and on about some gardening idea she has for the castle grounds. Her voice is the only one to be heard. I am working on my inventions, and he is purposefully losing the game for her sake. He's staring at her with so much love that I can't help but smile.
"Crono, it's your turn," Marle says. Then she frowns. "Hey, why're you staring at me? Crono, are you paying attention to my story?" He grins widely and nods so hard I'm scared his head will pop off. "You could have just said 'yes'," she grumbles, laying down her cards as she wins. Crono looks at me, his expression slightly pained and I roll my eyes with good-natured humor.
Crono says a lot of things, Marle. Lots of warm, wonderful things. You just don't know how to listen.