Elira sighed and stood slowly, her arms piled with books. Balancing herself, she began to walk carefully through the tiny walkways between shelves, her chin resting on a dusty cover. As she walked, a tendril of hair drooped down out of her bangs and tickled her nose. Scowling in irritation, she blew at it. It waved around in the air for a moment before settling to her face again. She shook her head in hopes of dislodging the persistent annoyance. But, instead of giving up and becoming obedient, the drifting tendril only returned, wriggling against her nose in a way most bothersome. Elira frowned and quickened her pace, hoping to get to her destination before she sneezed and sent novels flying everywhere. However, it wasn't to be.
"Ah....ah..." Elira stumbled back a pace, the tower of books teetering in her arms.
Leo dashed suddenly around a bookshelf and relieved her of the books she carried. And just in time. She turned quickly and sneezed behind her discreetly.
"Bless you."
Elira stood, dabbing at her nose with the back of her hand. "Thank you, Leo."
He grinned, hefting the books easily. "No problem. Hey, why don't you take a break. You've been moving these things for two hours. Go for a coffee or something."
"And miss the excitement here? No way." Elira chuckled as Leo rolled his eyes and began to walk away, still carrying the books. She followed him after a moment, coming out from between the shelves and walking over to the register nestled in a corner by the door. Once Leo had deposited the books on a small, unsteady looking table a few feet away, he joined her.
"So, how do you like it?" he asked, gesturing at the shop around him vaguely with one hand as the other straightened his glasses.
"It's great," Elira replied. "It's so quaint and cozy." She smiled slyly. "Not at all what I would've expected from a claustrophobe."
Leo scoffed out a laugh. "Well, I believe that a little enforced insanity is good for a person now and again."
Elira glanced down at herself and brushed some lingering dust from the skirt of the dress she was wearing. It was a dark blue one she had pulled out of the wardrobe, a little less delicate looking than the others. She was glad now that she had decided not to wear her jeans; though wearing a dress made her feel not herself, it kept her cool. Well, cooler than she would've been in jeans. Even with her arms and shins bared, she found herself warmer than would've been perfectly comfortable. She glanced up again to find Leo reaching over the counter to grab at a book kept safely under the till. After a few unsuccessful tries, he managed to get his fingers around it and bring it up. Smiling faintly at her, he began to flip through it slowly.
"This is one of the books I bought in Neo-Midgar," he explained almost reverently. "It's a Cetra lexicon, translating Cetra words into our language. I've spent ages looking for one of these." He ran his fingertips gingerly over one open page and Elira was acutely reminded of the way Vincent had explored the gunsmith's old book in her apartment. The memory made her stomach knot in the anger and dejection of last night when she'd discovered the note, however, so she pushed it away from her mind, forcing herself to mask everything beneath a smile.
"It's a beautiful language," Leo went on. "I've been trying to teach it to myself; this book will make that task infinitely easier." He spent another moment just perusing a page before glancing up again and closing the book gently. "The other book I picked up is what many scholars consider the scriptures of the Cetra."
Elira stood up from where she'd been leaning against the counter. "Cetra scriptures?" she echoed.
Leo nodded. "I've already read some of it. It goes into a bit of detail concerning their history, but most of it is ritualistic prayer." He shrugged. "Still a historian's dream. I'm having trouble accepting the fact that I was able to find one. Copies of it are virtually non-existent. I was able to get it at a decent price, too." He smiled a little, his eyes twinkling. "The store owner didn't recognize the book for what it was when he sold it to me."
Elira attempted to smother her grin. "How very shrewd of you to cheat him."
Leo shook his head. "He cheated me on the lexicon. I thought it right to treat him accordingly." He set the book on the counter, staring at it as if entranced. After a small pause, he spoke again, drawing one finger idly over the intricate design indented in the hard cover. "If you're still interested I could...well, we could explore these books together. I've never met anyone who shared my interest. It might be...nice to have someone to talk with about it, even if you're only going to be around for a few weeks."
Elira hesitated. Her first impulse was to refuse. Something in the back of her mind screamed at her that things were going too fast, but a quick assessment of the situation told her nothing was out of the ordinary. Leo was just asking her if she wanted to study the Cetra with him; she thought back to the day she and Terry had poured over the gunsmith's book. She'd known him almost a year before she'd felt ready to let him into her apartment to see it. It had been so hard for her to believe that someone could accept her after Eagan had rejected her in favour of death. It was still hard...
Leo pursed his lips, obviously not encouraged by her delay. "Is it something to do with your friend?" he asked hesitantly, as if afraid of what the answer might be.
"Oh." Elira shook her head. "That's not it. I...I just..." She frowned at the confusion in her mind. He probably thought she was acting strangely. After all, what he'd asked hadn't been anything untoward. Setting her jaw firmly, she glanced back at him, ignoring the fear that was making her stomach clench. "Yes, I think I'd like to study the Cetra with you." She sighed and smiled faintly. The words had been difficult to say.
But she had to start trusting somewhere. Because, without Vincent around, she would need someone.
Even if she couldn't trust them the way she instinctively trusted Vincent, she would need someone. Someone to keep her from holing away the way she knew she would. She had to keep herself open. No matter how much the prospect of letting Leo in scared her...
Leo fairly beamed, perhaps a little boyishly. "That's great. How about over the weekend?"
Weekend? Elira frowned a little at the initially unfamiliar word until her mind was able to dredge it up from her memory. In Kalm, she could recall having had two consecutive days off of school, unlike Neo-Midgar where only one was the rule, and it had been called it a 'weekend' since it, for all purposes, ended the work week. "Sure," she answered, trying to sound enthusiastic. "That sounds good."
Leo nodded just as the door opened behind Elira and an elderly man, maybe a little overdressed for the warm weather, stepped into the shop.
"Go for a break," Leo told her as he walked over to see if the man needed some help. Elira watched him idly for a moment while she thought of places she could go to eat; eventually, however, she admitted that she didn't know any of the haunts in Costa Del Sol yet and elected just to go back to the villa since it was only a couple-of-minute walk from the store.
As she passed the bar to go up the staircase to the villa, she was suddenly surprised that she had not be disturbed by any ruckus last night while trying to sleep. But, the surprise wore off as she realized that last night had been a weeknight; perhaps the night before a weekend would be worse. But perhaps not, she realized. Costa Del Sol was a clean town, much cleaner than Neo-Midgar and even Kalm, despite the fact that it was a resort. She doubted any large disturbance would be tolerated by the people running the establishments, even those who owned the bar. It would ruin Costa Del Sol's reputation for being a safe place to spend a holiday if bar fights broke out every weekend.
The villa was, of course, empty and silent when she entered. But the silence in the house wasn't the quiet kind of solitude silence that had become so familiar about Vincent; it was a startling, disturbing silence that all but forced a person to muffle the noise they made. Elira slipped softly out of her shoes and wandered into the kitchen to fix herself something to eat.
The single serving dinner she'd made herself the evening before had been good. The refrigerator and the cupboards were all well stocked with items that wouldn't expire quickly. She reminded herself that she needed to get some milk as she closed the fridge door with a foot, her arms full of sandwich material.
The house was still mostly unfamiliar, so it shouldn't have surprised Elira when something caught her eye suddenly. She was a little startled however at the movement she saw and quickly glanced up from the counter into the dining room.
Nothing. She shook her head, annoyed with how jumpy she'd become. As she leaned into the counter again, however, she realized that she had seen something: a reflection of sunlight coming from a decorative dish propped up on a sideboard that sat behind the dining room table. She laughed scornfully at herself, attempting to shrug off the eerie stillness surrounding her.
But she couldn't shrug it off completely. There was a heavy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. She chewed on her lip, realizing that she had almost been expecting to find Vincent standing in the doorway between the two rooms, gazing at her with those red eyes. Familiar, comforting red eyes...
But it hadn't been him. Of course it hadn't been him. It hadn't been three weeks yet. It hadn't even been a full twenty-four hours. She sighed, and then grew angry at herself as tears began to bubble up from somewhere so deep inside that it hurt. What had happened? Had she become so weak? She wiped the tears away with furious swipes of her hand. She had once been fine living on her own; she'd lived completely alone for nearly a year and a half in her apartment above the shop.
But that had been before she'd realized how lonely she was. Before Vincent had shown her how lonely she was.
And now...
Elira put a piece of bread on top of her sandwich and, grabbing a knife out of a drawer, sliced it expertly into two triangles. One tear she missed pooled on her chin and fell onto the bread, dotting it.
...she missed him.
Vincssssent.
Vincent closed his eyes in irritation. It had been almost three hours since Chaos had been consciously with him and he had been hoping that the trend would continue. Even if his mind hadn't been at peace for the three hours, his circling thoughts were preferable to listening to the demon.
"What is it?" he asked crisply, though making sure to keep the irritation out of his voice. He did not want Chaos to know how much the demon bothered him. Because it would easily determine from that how much Vincent was afraid of it. Afraid of how he couldn't control it, couldn't control himself. And that could only lead to worse things.
Don't become upsssset. I only wanted to ssssay that you have ssssurprissssed me. I didn't think you had it in you to leave her.
Vincent didn't reply. It had to know that he hadn't left permanently. It had been with him when he had written the note, struggling with the pen in his attempt to write the short message; he hadn't written anything in so long he had admittedly forgotten how.
Sssshe wassss becoming a complication anyway, don't you agree? Sssshe wassss on your mind more than wassss accsssseptable. It issss better if you go alone. Lessss disssstraction.
Vincent scoffed out a laugh. "You approve the better method of my journey to banish you?"
I approve that you have finally come to your ssssenssssessss. It givessss me hope that you will ssssee how futile this journey issss and give it up before ssssomething happenssss that you will regret.
Vincent opened his eyes and glanced out of the mouth of the cave he had discovered in the rocky hills covering the peninsula north of Costa Del Sol. Outside of the cave ran a decomposing path, one side of which tapered off the edge of a steep incline that fell a good fifty feet before halting at a base of sharp rocks and foamy surf. He could see the ocean beyond the cliff, shimmering under the sun and the swooping gulls. "Something I will regret?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. If Chaos was talking of leaving Elira behind, what regret could the demon be talking about?
Yessss. You don't exsssspect me jusssst to ssssit by and wait for you to arrive at the Cssssity of the Ancssssientssss, do you? I am going to overpower you at every turn. And do not believe the innocssssencsssse of thosssse you meet will protect them from me. Be ssssure that if you purssssue thissss...foolissssh journey, the sssstench of blood will be with you everywhere.
Chaos knew some of his thoughts well enough. Vincent didn't want to kill. Not anymore. His poisoned conscious couldn't stand anymore death. He sighed, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms loosely around his shins, holding onto one metal finger with his gloved hand. His resolve to go on was becoming harder and harder to hold on to as these complications continued to crop up.
He gritted his teeth. No, he couldn't let himself begin to think that way. He would finish. He would finish what he had started. He had never followed through on anything his entire life, but he would finish this. Elira...
He closed his eyes firmly against the pressure he felt on his chest at every thought of her. The pressure he was trying his best to deny existed. The pressure he recognized so well from forty years ago.
Elira had changed a part of his thinking. She had broken through his defenses and shown him how running in the opposite direction of his problems wouldn't solve them. Because the world was round and one couldn't help but eventually return to the spot they had started from. She was so wise sometimes, though so young. Wise and strong in ways that impressed him, made him take a second look at her.
The way he'd taken a second look at another woman when he had been so young.
Cracking, withered laughter filled Vincent's head unexpectedly. He only shut his eyes tighter. He regretted letting his thoughts wander to Elira, especially now when Chaos was aware of his mind. Because Elira had become a sensitive, secret part of him, like a hidden wound, and Vincent didn't want Chaos jabbing at him there.
The laughing faded into a husking wheeze. You're in love with the fool girl! That issss why you don't leave! I sssshould have guessssed!
"I am not in love with her," Vincent asserted in a voice that ended up being less steady than he would've liked. But it didn't matter. It didn't matter what Chaos believed. He wasn't in love. He couldn't be in love. Not after all he had done to prevent it. Following all routes of logic and reason, it was impossible. What he was feeling couldn't be love. He'd taken every precaution he hadn't taken with Lucrecia; therefore, he shouldn't be in love.
He wasn't in love. He nodded once as if trying to convince himself of the fact.
You are an oblivioussss imbecssssile. You are in love. You sssshould leave her before your hated cursssse desssstroyssss her.
Vincent kept his silence. He would ignore Chaos; it didn't matter what the demon said or believed. Soon, the despised creature would be gone and he wouldn't have to listen to its nonsense any longer.
If you give up thissss quesssst now, Vincssssent, I will leave you alone forever. Its voice had become almost mockingly sincere, oozing with a sweetness that could rot the gut. You have to admit that what I am offering you issss a much more reliable recoursssse than your doomed trip to the Cssssity of the... Chaos hesitated for only a moment before forcing out a hissing, Ancssssienctssss, as if the word burned its mouth.
Vincent was angered to realized that a piece of him was actually considering the offer. The piece of him that had wanted to run from his apartment the night after she'd seen Chaos, never to look back. The piece of him that was just so tired of everything.
But there was another part now. The part Elira had awakened in him, stoking a fire of hope he'd thought quashed without remedy. A part that wanted to fight fate.
Wanted to fight as if he deserved something more.
As if he could possibly win a second chance...
And this part overwhelmed the weaker side of him. He wouldn't back down now. There was hope. A glowing ember, warming him little by little, keeping him alive...
...and human...
Though Chaos was sure to have felt Vincent's thoughts, Vincent felt it necessary to voice them. He opened his eyes, glaring at the completely peaceful day outside the mouth of the cave and not seeing any of it. "No, I will not go back. I will go on. And Elira will accompany me."
You are a fool! Chaos screeched, enraged. After a moment, however, the demon forced a calmness and continued, You will only succsssseed in destroying both her and yourself.
Vincent smirked a little, wondering if it was possible that he irked Chaos as much as the demon irked him. He didn't reply to the allegation, tracing a nearby rock formation with his eyes.
It wasn't completely unexpected, but the pain was still shocking. Chaos gave a scream of unbridled fury and attempted to push its way to the surface, torturing Vincent the only way it knew how. But Vincent was prepared. A dart lay nearby, ready for just such an occasion. Vincent grabbed it up in a fist shaking with strain and discomfort.
"You will not win," he whispered hoarsely into the air, pushing shakily at the sleeve of his right arm, bunching it up to his elbow. The tranquilizer he then took between the fingers of his prosthetic hand. He smiled grimly, even as he could feel the contours of his face morphing beneath the skin into the vile features of Chaos. He was no longer nothing but the irresolute shell of the man the demon had once known. He was changing.
And he would finish at least one thing in his extensive lifetime.
The needle slipped into a vein faint and twitching with transformation. Oblivion followed not long after, the blackness accompanied by a feeling of victory.
He would finish. And Elira would help him.