"Maybe you do," Luce said, "but it's not fool-proof."
"And how do you know?"
"Because that wasn't what I was thinking. I don't think you're crazy, Serah. I think you're special."
"Like you," she said. "You said we weren't much different, after all."
He smiled at that. Special? There was no denying it. He was special. He'd been purposely created that way. The debate had always been whether or not it was for the good.
"We are alike," he said, continuing to shuffle. "The difference being I wish I could forget everything you no longer remember."
"And I wish I could remember."
"I know you do."
"I wish you'd tell me."
"And I wish I could."
She was quiet for a moment, just watching him shuffle. "I sensed things about you, too, you know."
"I'd be surprised if you hadn't."
Her eyes narrowed contemplatively as she stared at his hands before meeting his gaze. "You're a stranger to me, Luce. In my head, I don't really know anything about you. You walk around barefoot, you find shoes out of nowhere, you order an apple for breakfast but you don't eat it, and you're always there. Everywhere I look, you're there, and then you're gone again. It's not normal."
Normal is relative, he wanted to say. Fuck normal anyway.
Before he could say anything, though, she continued.
"You're a stranger to me," she said again, "but somehow I know you. I see you pop up out of nowhere, I find you standing in my hallway, or lurking outside of my work, and my heart starts to race, but it isn't because I'm afraid. It races, because it knows you. It skips a beat, because it knows you're there. My heart knows you even though the rest of me doesn't."
Luce's eyes drifted down toward her chest briefly before looking at the cards in his hand. Her heart was beating steadily, melodically. "It's not racing now. It's been at ease today."
"You can tell that?"
He shrugged a shoulder, absently dividing the deck of cards down the middle and pushing half of it toward her. "You want to play?"
Carefully, she picked up the partial deck. "What are we playing?"
"War."
"War," she repeated, starting to turn her cards over, but Luce reached over, grasping her hand, stopping her before she looked at them. He quickly ran through the basics of the game as she stared down at his hand on top of hers. When he was finished, she looked back up at him. "I've played this before."
She posed it as a statement, but Luce could see the questions in her eyes. "Yeah, you have."
"Did I play it with you?"
"Many times."
"Did I win?"
"Once."
She nodded, shifting to face him more as she smiled. "Well, Luce, it's about to be twice."
He laughed, amused, as they started playing.
Twenty minutes later, Serah won the game.
"We really appreciate this," Nicholas whispered, standing on the front porch, a sleeping Nicki wrapped around him, drooling on his shoulder. "Seriously, I can't thank you enough."
"I told you it was my pleasure," Serah said. "If you need anything else, I'm here."
Nicholas smiled. "You might live to regret that."
Serah laughed. "Never."
Nicholas departed after thanking her a few more times. Serah waited until they were out of sight before closing the front door and leaning back against it. It was nearing three o'clock in the morning and Serah had missed work. Her boss had understood, but it still weighed heavily on her.
Serah's gaze shifted around the room in the darkness, the only source of light from a very dim lamp. Luce sat still right in the center of the couch, elbows resting on his knees, eyes on her. He'd stayed the entire evening, never once complaining that he had somewhere else to be.
Did he? She couldn't help but wonder. Where did he go when he had to leave?
As if on cue, he rose to his feet. "I should go."
"Stay."
The single word from her lips stalled him. He stood there, still staring at her in the darkness, as he seemed to contemplate it. After a moment, he stepped toward her, cradling her face between his hands. His thumbs lightly stroked her cheeks.
"You're beautiful, angel," he whispered. "You sure you want me to stay?"
She nodded.
She wasn't sure the implication of it, what his staying truly meant, but the thought of him leaving made her chest tight. Parts of her ached, aching to be reacquainted with what she used to know, with what she used to be with him. It was the closest to remembering she got. She wanted that.
Maybe she wanted him.
Leaning down, he softly kissed her, the lightest touch of their lips. Without deepening it, he picked her up, and Serah gasped in his mouth as he carried her through the house. He took her right back to the only bedroom, laying her on the center of the bed.
Serah relaxed as Luce's lips left hers to instead explore her skin. He kissed her face, her jawline, her neck, sending tingles deep down through her body as he kissed her again and again.
His hands roamed, gently caressing her. He tugged her dress up over her head when she raised her hands, letting him take it off. His lips traveled the length of her torso, easily shedding the rest of her clothes.
His mouth found the apex of her thighs. Sparks ignited inside of her as she arched her back, her hands in his hair. It was soft, much softer than she expected from someone constructed from such harsh lines and dark features. He kissed her, tasted her, caressing her flesh with his tongue.
"And how do you know?"
"Because that wasn't what I was thinking. I don't think you're crazy, Serah. I think you're special."
"Like you," she said. "You said we weren't much different, after all."
He smiled at that. Special? There was no denying it. He was special. He'd been purposely created that way. The debate had always been whether or not it was for the good.
"We are alike," he said, continuing to shuffle. "The difference being I wish I could forget everything you no longer remember."
"And I wish I could remember."
"I know you do."
"I wish you'd tell me."
"And I wish I could."
She was quiet for a moment, just watching him shuffle. "I sensed things about you, too, you know."
"I'd be surprised if you hadn't."
Her eyes narrowed contemplatively as she stared at his hands before meeting his gaze. "You're a stranger to me, Luce. In my head, I don't really know anything about you. You walk around barefoot, you find shoes out of nowhere, you order an apple for breakfast but you don't eat it, and you're always there. Everywhere I look, you're there, and then you're gone again. It's not normal."
Normal is relative, he wanted to say. Fuck normal anyway.
Before he could say anything, though, she continued.
"You're a stranger to me," she said again, "but somehow I know you. I see you pop up out of nowhere, I find you standing in my hallway, or lurking outside of my work, and my heart starts to race, but it isn't because I'm afraid. It races, because it knows you. It skips a beat, because it knows you're there. My heart knows you even though the rest of me doesn't."
Luce's eyes drifted down toward her chest briefly before looking at the cards in his hand. Her heart was beating steadily, melodically. "It's not racing now. It's been at ease today."
"You can tell that?"
He shrugged a shoulder, absently dividing the deck of cards down the middle and pushing half of it toward her. "You want to play?"
Carefully, she picked up the partial deck. "What are we playing?"
"War."
"War," she repeated, starting to turn her cards over, but Luce reached over, grasping her hand, stopping her before she looked at them. He quickly ran through the basics of the game as she stared down at his hand on top of hers. When he was finished, she looked back up at him. "I've played this before."
She posed it as a statement, but Luce could see the questions in her eyes. "Yeah, you have."
"Did I play it with you?"
"Many times."
"Did I win?"
"Once."
She nodded, shifting to face him more as she smiled. "Well, Luce, it's about to be twice."
He laughed, amused, as they started playing.
Twenty minutes later, Serah won the game.
"We really appreciate this," Nicholas whispered, standing on the front porch, a sleeping Nicki wrapped around him, drooling on his shoulder. "Seriously, I can't thank you enough."
"I told you it was my pleasure," Serah said. "If you need anything else, I'm here."
Nicholas smiled. "You might live to regret that."
Serah laughed. "Never."
Nicholas departed after thanking her a few more times. Serah waited until they were out of sight before closing the front door and leaning back against it. It was nearing three o'clock in the morning and Serah had missed work. Her boss had understood, but it still weighed heavily on her.
Serah's gaze shifted around the room in the darkness, the only source of light from a very dim lamp. Luce sat still right in the center of the couch, elbows resting on his knees, eyes on her. He'd stayed the entire evening, never once complaining that he had somewhere else to be.
Did he? She couldn't help but wonder. Where did he go when he had to leave?
As if on cue, he rose to his feet. "I should go."
"Stay."
The single word from her lips stalled him. He stood there, still staring at her in the darkness, as he seemed to contemplate it. After a moment, he stepped toward her, cradling her face between his hands. His thumbs lightly stroked her cheeks.
"You're beautiful, angel," he whispered. "You sure you want me to stay?"
She nodded.
She wasn't sure the implication of it, what his staying truly meant, but the thought of him leaving made her chest tight. Parts of her ached, aching to be reacquainted with what she used to know, with what she used to be with him. It was the closest to remembering she got. She wanted that.
Maybe she wanted him.
Leaning down, he softly kissed her, the lightest touch of their lips. Without deepening it, he picked her up, and Serah gasped in his mouth as he carried her through the house. He took her right back to the only bedroom, laying her on the center of the bed.
Serah relaxed as Luce's lips left hers to instead explore her skin. He kissed her face, her jawline, her neck, sending tingles deep down through her body as he kissed her again and again.
His hands roamed, gently caressing her. He tugged her dress up over her head when she raised her hands, letting him take it off. His lips traveled the length of her torso, easily shedding the rest of her clothes.
His mouth found the apex of her thighs. Sparks ignited inside of her as she arched her back, her hands in his hair. It was soft, much softer than she expected from someone constructed from such harsh lines and dark features. He kissed her, tasted her, caressing her flesh with his tongue.
