Chapter Twenty-One: Absence
by thelittletree
It wasn't until later that Elira discovered the gil Vincent had left, almost as an afterthought, on an endtable by the door. By the looks of it, she guessed it was all he'd had. One last thought for her well-being before his fear had run him out of the villa. And the gesture managed to pacify a little of her anger, though she remained nowhere close to forgiving him. That he wouldn't earn without a sacrifice, preferably of his dignity. And that done on his knees.
The first two days were miserable as she wavered between seething rage and grudging worry, wanting him to return so she could alternately scream at him and hold him to her until she was sure he'd never leave like that again. The nights were the hardest, when she realized how truly alone she was in a strange bed in an unfamiliar house. It wasn't until the third day that she even ventured out to get some groceries to add to the supply of non-perishables in the pantry, and then part of her insisted on looking around as if she would spot him on the street. Though she knew already that unless he wanted to be found she would never find him.
It bothered her the first time she wondered if she was falling in love with Vincent.
He didn't want that kind of relationship, though, she argued with herself immediately. And he was stubborn. And completely focused on himself. And incredibly closed-mouthed about so many things. These weren't traits she would look for in someone, were they? If she was looking at all.
So, maybe she found him attractive. Maybe she had a little of what she would've called a 'crush' in her younger years. But that wasn't love.
And maybe she liked to see his smile. Maybe she liked to joke with him and tease him when he was in the mood. Maybe she could talk to him, and maybe she wanted to know more about him; maybe she wanted to help him find a way out of his pain. Maybe she was worried about him, and maybe she even missed him. It didn't mean she was in love, did it?
Nuh-uh. No way. She'd been in love with Eagan, and Eagan had been an entirely different person from Vincent. Didn't it stand to reason that she'd fall for someone with Eagan's same qualities?
Though Eagan had never made love to her quite like that before. Like there was a desperate, consuming fire in him, a fire she had ignited...
No, she told herself. Lust and love were very different. And she wasn't in love. To fall for Vincent would be the very worst thing she could do, because he wanted nothing to do with her in a romantic sense. It was just asking for heartache.
So, she wasn't in love with him. And she didn't want to be.
The fourth day, she finally called Leo to ask if his job offer still stood. Not an hour later, she was arriving at his shop in some of Tifa's old summer-wear, and it was so good to see a friendly, familiar face. He set her to work putting away books he'd had shipped from Cosmo Canyon; eight boxes in all, and all meant for different sections. It wasn't gun-forging, but the tidy side of her that appreciated order was pleased with the job and she fell to it, grateful for the distraction.
The books were covered in dust, as if Leo had had them sitting out this way for months. Undaunted, she began a system. First she would brush away what dust she could, making sure to sneeze away from the boxes, and then she would make a thorough check for stray spiders before sorting the books into piles. Then, balancing herself carefully, she would get to her feet with a pile in her arms and walk between the narrow shelves to put them away. It was blessedly mindless work and soon she was even humming a little to herself.
She wasn't sure what time it was when she nearly bumped into Leo at the end of a shelf. With a start, she turned, and he chuckled at her expression. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
"Oh." She gave a laughing sigh. "That's all right, I should pay more attention."
He was smiling softly and his eyes twinkled behind his glasses. "No, don't. I think I like to watch you when you're off in your own world. Looking at the ocean, or working. You seem like the type of person who throws themselves wholeheartedly into something. I really like that."
"Oh," she said again, and she cursed inwardly when she realized she was blushing again. She didn't think she'd ever blushed this often in her life. But, then again, she didn't think she'd ever been given this many compliments before.
Leo was still watching her, and his smile was growing. He leaned casually against the shelf beside him. "You're shy about accepting flattery, aren't you?"
"I don't know," she muttered with a shrug. "I guess I'm not used to it."
"That kind of surprises me." He shifted his weight back until he was standing once again. "Well, you've been working pretty hard, and it's nearly lunch time. Do you want to go get something to eat with me? I know a nice place around the corner."
She slipped her curls behind her ears and pursed her lips. "Well, okay. But, Leo, I should probably explain something..."
He lifted a hand. "It's just lunch. Really. I know you have to leave in a couple of weeks."
She felt herself start to relax. He certainly wasn't Terry. She realized then that she was smiling, and that it must've looked grateful. Leo chuckled. "Something tells me your love-life has always been stressful and full of guilt," he commented astutely.
Her smile turned a little rueful. "You could certainly say that," she admitted. "Maybe it's a little bit of a relief not to feel like you expect something of me." 'Or, as in Vincent's case,' she thought morosely, 'a relief not to feel that he expects me *not* to do some things.'
"I expect you to say what you want to say, and to do what you want to do. And if something I say or do makes you uncomfortable, I expect you to say so. Like this." He stepped up beside her and placed an arm around her shoulders. "How do you feel about this?"
From Terry, she would have shrugged it off. From Vincent, it would have been so incongruous as to have sent her into shock. From Leo, it was unassuming and companionable. She smiled. "I feel fine."
"Good. Now, let's lock up and go for lunch."
While they waited at a table for their sandwiches, Leo pulled a book out of a cloth shoulder-bag he'd brought along. "This," he told her, holding the book out, "is one of the things I bought in Neo-Midgar, along with..." He rummaged again. "This."
The second book was larger and heavier than the first, but not nearly as interesting-looking. The first was obviously ancient and titled in Cetra ideograms. "What is this?" she asked, feeling a little awed.
Leo looked a little smug, pleased by her interest. "That is a book of Cetra scriptures," he told her. "It's over a hundred years old, and I had to go to an obscure shop in Odriam to get it. The second is a lexicon for the Cetra language, and it was only published six years ago. One of the members of that group Avalanche was rumoured to have been half-Cetra, and I guess that's what's sparked the recent interest. Magazines can't seem to get enough of them, though there isn't much written about their holy writings. Not many people are willing to do the translation needed for that."
Elira raised her eyebrows. "This is what you're working on now? You're translating their entire scriptures?"
He shrugged one shoulder a little modestly. "Well, over time, yes. It'll probably take me about two years."
Elira handed the books back to him as their food arrived. "I'm impressed," she told him honestly. "I wish I could do something like that."
"Well..." He picked up one half of his sandwich. "I close for the weekends. If you want, I could come get you tomorrow and we could go to my apartment. No strings attached, of course," he added, looking at her over the rims of his glasses in a way that made his meaning very clear, though his smile showed her he was teasing. "Just for some coffee, and I'll show you what I've translated so far. And maybe you can even try your hand at it."
Elira took a bite of her sandwich to give her a moment to think. She felt she could believe 4him when he said he wasn't expecting anything of her, but she still didn't know him that well and something about this felt like it was going a little fast. "Well," she replied eventually, "I don't know. Maybe I could. I...I just..."
Leo suddenly put out a hand and touched her arm to stop her. His eyes were serious. "Is this about your friend, Elira?"
The sudden reminder of Vincent when she'd spent all day expressly *not* thinking about him made something in her ache suddenly, as if his absence was a wound she'd been ignoring. Following this, however, was a flash of hurt anger that managed to drown out the ache. Without wondering what might've shown on her face, she began to answer, trying to sound composed. "No, it's not about him at all. He's *just* a friend."
Leo pursed his lips thoughtfully for a moment. When he next spoke, his tone was frank and solemn. "Elira, I'm sure you know as well as I do that there can be many levels of friendship between a man and a woman, and some are closer to romantic love than others."
Elira tried to meet his gaze, and couldn't. She dropped her eyes to her plate. "I don't know," she whispered, and then she closed her eyes as tears threatened. "God. I don't know if it's just because I'm lonely..."
"Lonely?"
She glanced back at him and wiped hastily at the lone tear that escaped to roll down her cheek. "I'm sorry. This isn't your problem."
The earnest expression on his face nearly made her break down completely. "Elira, I want to help if I can."
She clenched her teeth as her jaw trembled. Damn him for leaving! At least it wasn't as bad as when he'd almost left her for good in Neo-Midgar, but it was still hurtful. "Vincent isn't with me in the villa," she admitted.
Leo frowned a little and sat back. "He's not? Where is he?"
She shrugged and felt the control on her tears shudder again. "He just wrote me a note to say he'd be back for the barge, and then...he left."
Leo looked surprised. "Did he say why?"
Elira sighed, and it felt like a sigh she'd been keeping inside for days. "I know why," she told him quietly. "But that doesn't make it any easier."
Leo didn't say anything for a few moments. Elira rubbed at her eyes and took a breath.
Eventually, Leo moved to pick up his glass of water. After taking a sip, he gave his own sigh and began to speak again. "Elira, I don't know what to tell you. I don't know enough about you or him, and I doubt you really feel like explaining everything right now. Maybe you won't ever feel like explaining. But, despite what you may or may not feel for him, my invitation is completely unconditional. You can come, or you can refuse, and I'll still let you work for me." He gave a small, encouraging half-smile. "I know what it's like to be lonely. The crowd in Costa Del Sol really isn't my style, though I love the town and I'm happy with my life here. I'm just offering some friendship. If you want someone to talk to, or just to hang out with, that's what I'm here for."
Elira stared at him for a moment, and she felt something in her break suddenly. Without warning, the tears started flowing, hot and merciless, from her eyes. She lowered her head to the table. In a moment, Leo got up and then, no more than a minute later, he returned to help her up and lead her out of the cafe with their sandwiches in a paper bag.
The walk back to his bookstore gave her time to compose herself, and once they were inside she burrowed herself into Leo's embrace, comforted by the thought that it wouldn't be misconstrued. Leo's arms came around to hold her and she let the last of her tears escape. After a few moments, she lifted her face to look at him. "I'm sorry, Leo."
He smiled down at her. "Don't be."
She knew her own smile was shaky. "Thank you. I think I would like to come to your place tomorrow. I promise I won't cry."
He laughed at this and she felt the sound reverberate through his chest. "All right. You'll be too busy to cry, anyway. Translating is tough work." He let her go as she withdrew from him and then he gave a small sigh. "I guess the real question is 'Do you feel up to working anymore today?'"
Elira nodded immediately and wiped her face with her hands. "I think I would feel better here than I would alone in that big, empty villa."
Leo's lips seemed touched with a sympathetic smile. "Okay. But no more dusty things; I think you've had your fill of sneezing and watery eyes for the moment. How do you feel about repairing bindings?"
'Or do you remember the sssoldier who ssshot you in the ssstomach? That poor boy didn't have a chancssse againssst my clawsss. I can ssstill tassste his blood...'
Vincent didn't reply. He'd long since stopped replying.
There were caves north of Costa Del Sol; nothing spectacular, just some crevices large enough to shelter a man from the eyes of others. And this was where Vincent had taken up temporary residence. It wasn't comfortable, but he didn't need comfort. He didn't *deserve* it either, he told himself. He deserved the guilt and images Chaos' words were forcing into his mind as he sat hunched with his back against a wall of rock, wearily clutching a dart in his hand.
The demon began to cackle out its hissing laughter. 'You want to be disssgusssted, Vincsssent, but I can ssstill feel the bloodlussst in you. You can't deny it.'
His bloodlust. It was something he would always struggle against, he thought. The one thing that still connected him to the demon; the weakness that had always given Chaos power over him.
'And do you remember the boy on the train, Vincsssent? Ahh, it'sss been ssso long sssincssse I've tasssted human blood. You ssshould have let me kill him. Though...' The demon chuckled in pernicious amusement. '...with the way you are continuing, I assssume I will eventually be able to sssatisssfy myssself on the girl.'
Vincent closed his eyes and fought against a wave of anger and fear. Chaos had been baiting him for days, presumably out of a desire for entertainment, and he was tired of the way he always rose to it, whether he wanted to or not. Elira had become a soft spot in his otherwise inscrutable shell and Chaos knew just how to manipulate him.
The demon laughed again. 'Ssshe raisssesss sssuch feeling in you. I don't underssstand why you allow sssuch weaknessss to continue. You have become exposssed in a way your previousss ssself would have abhorred. You know I ssspeak the truth. Why don't you sssimply forget about thisss and give in to your darker ssside again? *I* sssuffer no guilt or ssshame. I live for the thrill of death. Do you think ssshe will accsssept you when ssshe knowsss what you oncssse were? Forget her and let me be your ssstrength again.'
It was the first time Chaos had attempted to 'talk some sense' into him. It was true that, when he was angry, there was always the desire to let vengeance take its course; there was a freedom in letting himself lose control, in losing himself to the hate of the demon. But he had forcefully given up that life years ago, with the end of Avalanche. He had sworn never to kill another living creature, unless it was unavoidable, like the killing of monsters.
And he *had* nearly told Elira in Kalm about his past as a Turk. Her earnest words, that nothing he said would make her think what he thought of himself, had almost made him say it. *Almost*. But this was his burden, even more deeply buried than his history with Lucrecia, and no matter how heavily it sometimes weighed on him she didn't deserve to be oppressed by it, too. She who could, at times, be so free with her emotions; her sincere smiles, her unfettered laughter. He envied her.
And...he envied Leo, who was seeing those smiles and hearing that laughter. Elira... Her personality could charm a rock, he thought with a sigh as he bowed his head.
He'd been back to Costa Del Sol a few times already. Battling Chaos had become a cycle. The demon would spend hours in his mind; it would become frustrated; it would force a transformation; and Vincent would put himself out. And then, when he awoke, the demon would be gone and Vincent would be free to return to the town without worry, at least for a little while. Though he'd only seen Elira outside once, dressed in clothes that left more than a little skin exposed. He told himself that he was just making sure of her safety, but his own memory betrayed him. There had been a time when he had waited in the mansion in Nibelheim, sometimes for hours, for mere glimpses of Lucrecia.
But he thought he could now see the reason behind Chaos' successive attempts to break into the physical world. The tranquilizers were becoming less effective. The time difference between their potency then and now was no longer in doubt, and Vincent expected that he would have to up the dosage soon. He would also have to stop going to Costa Del Sol, since the time Chaos spent weakened after being tranquilized was now shorter, as well.
That meant, of course, that he wouldn't be able to watch over Elira. But that didn't matter. She now had that man, Leo, to protect her.
'I ssshould have guessssed!' The demon broke into an unexpected bout of horrible laughter. 'You're in love with the fool girl! That'sss why you ssstay. You've sssuccumbed to the greatessst folly of man!'
Vincent snapped his eyes open angrily. This was going too far. "What would you know? You don't know what love is!"
'Maybe not, but I know what jealousssy isss...'
Vincent felt suddenly defeated, but he surged to his feet. "Get out of my mind!" he shouted to the rock around him.
'If you insssissst...'
Chaos rarely managed to make more than his ears and teeth start to change before the dart began to take effect. This time was no different. And, if only because he ached for some sort of light in this hell of darkness, Vincent promised himself as he fell into oblivion one more visit to Costa Del Sol...
He would need more tranquilizers soon...