Star Ocean: Till The End Of Time Fan Fiction ❯ Yaoi Ocean 3 ❯ Chapter Nineteen: Maybe ( Chapter 19 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Chapter Nineteen

Maybe

After Albel had spoken with his ruling monarch for a bit about how the universe was safe (ish) now, Cliff contacted Maria, informing her that they were ready to go. Diplo swung around and teleported them up rather than make them walk all the long way back to Aquaria. Maria greeted them at the teleporter room. Nel was scowling behind her in the background about something. Mirage looked thoroughly annoyed.

Mirage approached Cliff. “Do you know where we're going? Maria hasn't said a word,” she complained. She didn't like it when she was kept in the dark about something, even for a surprise. She would rather know about it.

Cliff grinned. Maria had followed through with his plan and not ruined the surprise. He was glad, because she was the only one in on it and no one else had a clue. “You'll see when we get there.”

Nel's scowl deepened. “So you do know where we're going.”

“Yeah, but it'll only be a few hours until we get there. You can wonder until then,” he said, striding off to his room to check his e-mail that had been neglected for the God of Internet only knows how long. Fayt shrugged and he and Albel went for a leisurely stroll around Diplo. Mirage went to her room, pondering what this “surprise” could be. Nel wandered off by herself, and Maria returned to the control room. Sophia didn't mind a surprise, unlike almost everyone else, and happily went to her room to mull over what it could possibly be.

When they arrived, Maria and Cliff ushered everyone to the teleporter and Marietta sent them down, promising to swing back by in a week, causing great suspicion in most of the group. They peered around the immediate area. Fayt brightened. “A resort?” he asked, smiling a little at Sophia. She smiled back. This had all begun at a resort, and, it seemed, would slowly draw to a close at one too. And being at such a nice place with his two lovers would be wonderful. Some romance would certainly add to their sex lives as well as their relationships with each other. Some relaxation was exactly what everyone needed right now.

“Yeah. I figured we all needed and deserved a break after all that,” the male Klausian said matter-of-factly. “Let's go check in.”

“How'd you ever get reservations so soon?” Sophia asked. There was no way he had made them at the usual time one would have to schedule for this type of vacation—which was usually a year or so prior.

“Ask Maria,” Cliff said smugly.

“Maria?” Sophia said, looking at her. Maria pretended not to hear her and continued toward the reception desk. Fayt assumed this might have something to do with Maria's hacking prowess more than anything else. The resort also didn't seem too busy, and the recent war with the Creator may have added to that. Sophia sighed and looked at Fayt again seriously. “This time, you're going swimming with me!”

Fayt laughed. This would be great, and it was very much deserved this time.

After they checked in their rooms, they decided on the plan for the rest of the day. They were all splitting up to do whatever and meeting up at a nearby restaurant for dinner. The girls were headed to the salon for manicures, pedicures, and other girl things. Adray had declined the invitation, so that left Fayt, Albel, and Cliff. Cliff glanced over a brochure. “Wanna hit the beach?” he asked. “Or we could get a masseuse? That might be nice.”

They both sounded good to Fayt. “Let's go to the beach first, and then when we're tired, we'll get the masseuse.” This was agreeable, so the threesome removed any unnecessary clothing (greaves, armor, weaponry, gloves, etc), grabbed some towels, and went down to the beach. It was off-season on this particular planet, so there weren't a whole lot of people. The war with the Executioners probably helped too. A lot of people had died in it. Needless to say, a lot of people probably had “cancelled” their reservations. Maybe it wasn't such a wonder that they had got in so quickly. Fayt tried not to think about it. There was nothing to be done about it now, after all.

Fayt went swimming. Cliff decided to join him and half-drowned him in the water, playfully. Fayt pretended to drown and Cliff kissed him back to “life.” Just silly things that lovers do sometimes. They played in the tide. Fayt stepped on a crab and screamed quite a bit after that. Cliff nearly split his sides laughing, as the saying goes. Albel sat on the beach and watched them for a while, stretched out on a towel. He didn't do the “relax and enjoy yourself” thing very well. Truth be told, it made him uncomfortable. Like a nagging feeling that he should be doing something else but wasn't. The most uncomfortable thing about it was that he knew there was nothing—absolutely nothing—better that he could be doing. Except maybe something involving the other two, a large bed, and dim lights. But right now, they wanted to enjoy the beach. That was fine; he could wait. Besides, the other two looked like they were having fun.

He drank in the picture of Fayt and Cliff, both dripping with seawater, as they dove in the waves. They looked happy, and the late afternoon sun glistening off the water looked beautiful. It was a gorgeous image, to be sure, and Albel appreciated the view. His seme and uke looked good.

Cliff came back, dripping wet. “Come in the water.”

“It'll ruin my clothes,” Albel pointed out.

Cliff rolled his blue eyes. “Then don't wear anything. The beach is almost empty. No one is around.”

“You and Fayt too,” he said absently.

Cliff waved at Fayt to catch his attention. He motioned for the college kid to join them. Fayt trotted up the beach to the other two. “Albel won't go in the water unless we're all naked.”

Fayt blushed, then scowled. He glanced around the beach self-consciously. There was another couple off by themselves, walking away, and there was a group of people way down the beach, little specks really. A couple locals wandered around, but everyone was far enough away to not notice that sort of thing. He looked back at the other two. “He just wants to have sex,” he pointed out, waving vaguely at the other swordsman.

“How perceptive,” the Elicoorian said, his voice dripping with sarcasm like vanilla icecream on a hot summer's day. Fayt jumped on him, the ocean water clinging to his body, clothes, and hair dribbling on to the samurai and his clothes. Albel made a startled noise of surprise and concern for his clothing, trying to shove Fayt off of him before the water ruined the dye on the fabric. To hell he would wear anything that looked splotchy, and he liked this outfit; it looked good on him. Of course, anything form-fitting usually looked good on him.

Fayt managed to pry his clothes off of him and tossed them aside. “Take off your gloves too,” he insisted, trying to pull them off. He didn't care so much about the gloves. They were more there to serve a purpose than anything else. Besides, as many times as blood had splattered on them, and thus far they weren't irreparably ruined, he figured they would be fine, but the rest of the outfit wasn't something to risk.

Albel grabbed him around the middle, no longer concerned about ruining the dye on his clothes, and rolled so that Fayt was laying on his back, pinned under him. He kissed his lips several times, his neck, and used his teeth to unzip Fayt's damp shirt, molesting him with both gloved hands. He shoved the wet clothes aside, nearly getting carried away as he worked on pulling off the clinging, wet shorts.

“Hey,” Cliff said, grabbed Albel's hair and hauled him partway up. “Not here. Let's go in the water.” Albel waited for Cliff to undress, touching Fayt's chest absently with his hands as he watched. Fayt moaned, then batted Albel's hands away. The Elicoorian was undeterred and just continued. Cliff threw his clothes aside. The sunlight glistened on the droplets of water in his yellow hair and sun-kissed skin. The three dashed down into the water. Albel pounced back on Fayt. The two fell in the water, tumbling and rolling under. The waves crashed down on them. Sand slid under them. They gasped for air. As Albel found what he sought, Fayt gasped again for a different reason. He jerked his hips, spreading his legs more. Albel pushed further inside him, moaning. He glanced back at Cliff urgently. Another wave crashed. Cliff gently eased them both out of the deeper water before they drowned. He climbed on top of the Elicoorian, kissing his shoulder gently, tasting the seawater. He ran his hands along his thighs, enjoying the flexing muscle as the other moved inside Fayt.

He touched Fayt's calves, gliding his fingers up to his hips. Water swirled around them. Fayt twisted against Albel, raising his head above the water, holding on to him tightly. Cliff positioned himself. Slowly, he eased inside Albel. Albel, however, was impatient, and pushed back against him roughly. Flinching a little, he gasped. Fayt slid against him. Another large wave crashed down on them. The three intertwined bodies moved, writhed, gasped for air. They were sometimes nearly obscured by the water. Wet sand was caked to their skin and just as quickly washed off by the saltwater.

As the tide came in, a large wave rolled over them, not enough to move them or drown them, but enough to plunge all three underwater. Fayt gasped, reaching his limit. The tide carried his release. Albel leaned forward and kissed his lips. Cliff leaned back, pushing hard in to Albel. Albel grunted, pitching forward. Fayt groaned, his grip on Albel tightening. The Elicoorian arched his back for a better angle, jerking his hips into Fayt, then pushing back against Cliff. Once more, then again. He groaned, then shuddered as he reached his limit. Cliff held him close to him, moving inside him. Another wave came. Fayt held his breath. Cliff barely managed to keep his head above the water. Albel twisted against him, bending just perfectly. He ground into him. He gasped. That was it. He came into his bowels, panting for breath.

Albel realized something was missing. He looked around desperately for a moment and flung himself awkwardly at something floating in the water. He picked it up before the tide carried it away forever, the sopping wet fabric nearly slipping through his fingers. It was his right glove.

“I told you to take off your gloves,” Fayt muttered in an I-told-you-so voice. Albel pulled the soaking left one up a little higher, ignoring him. The three trudged back to the towels through the sand. The wind stirred the beach, blowing sand on them. It clung to their wet limbs like a second layer of sandpaper skin, some of it even catching in their hair. This is the only problem with a beach—the sand sticking to wet skin the way it does. The three wrapped themselves up in their towels, drying off their hands and arms as best they could, but it was useless to try to dry their legs and feet, which were so caked with sand it would only dirty the towels. There was a place near the door to the hotel where they could rinse the sand from their legs and feet before they walked in, so they did and dried off briefly before heading inside.

They carried their clothes with them as they traveled to their room. Cliff had booked the three a suite, mostly because of the king-sized bed. They took turns using the large shower in the bigger bathroom, as it was the nicer of the two. They might have all jumped in together, as it was quite definitely large enough, but the three were fairly tired, and actually did need to wash off the saltwater and get the sand out of their hair. Fayt came out of the shower, towel-drying his hair.

“Let's not do that again,” he decided. “Sex on the beach isn't as great as it sounds.”

Cliff laughed. Kid obviously got some sand down between his legs. How uncomfortable. “Albel, you're next.”

Albel spent forty-five minutes in the shower washing sand out of his hair. Fayt blow-dried his lover's hair while Cliff showered. All of Fayt's efforts to make Albel's hair look somewhat kempt came to ruin though when Albel wrapped his hair up again, and then shoved his hair back in front of his face like it normally was. Fayt sighed deeply.

It was about time for dinner, so they put on a change of clothes (their second outfits) and traversed down to the restaurant. No one commented on how odd it was that their skin, hair, and eye colour all changed depending on what they were wearing as this sort of thing was considered “normal.”

The girls were perusing menus when they arrived. They chatted casually for a bit, ordered their food and drinks, and in general had a pretty good time in each other's company. Someone started playing a piano somewhere in the restaurant.

Sophia hummed along to the tune happily, near singing it aloud. Fayt started humming with her. She laughed softly, humming the higher part as he hummed the lower. He stood up, holding his hand out to her, smiling. She grinned and took it. The pair whisked away to dance. Albel looked up at them. Should they really be doing that? Well, no harm done anyway, a dance between friends. And they had known each other a long time. They seemed so easy in each other's presence too. Of course, old friends were always like that. At least the two were still friends. Better that than torn apart over Fayt's previous decision.

Feeling suddenly inspired, other couples around the restaurant, laughing, joined in. Quickly, any open space became a dance floor. Cliff suddenly grinned, offering his hand to Mirage. She smiled up at him, sliding her hand in to his. He pulled her out onto the new dance floor. Like Sophia and Fayt, they were at ease in each other's presence, laughing and occasionally tripping over each other's feet. Mirage stumbled and fell against Cliff's chest. Albel's eyes leveled. She laughed, holding on to him as she righted herself and backed up an appropriate distance again. He knew Cliff's odd attachment for Mirage, and he wasn't so sure he liked them dancing together. He looked over at Fayt.

“Remember our last high school prom?” Fayt said, grabbing Sophia's waist and spinning her around in a circle. He set her down, taking her hand again. “You taught me how to dance.”

She laughed, remembering. “You stepped all over my feet,” she said. “You were terrible at first.” The song changed to something slower. The dancers slowed. “But you got a lot better.”

The three back at the table glanced at each other briefly. Maria rested her chin in her palm. “Well, isn't this exciting,” she muttered.

Nel glanced at Albel. “Here's to cannon pairings.” She held her hand out to him. “Come on, Albel.”

He stood up, taking her offered hand and led her out to the dance floor. “Aquarian scum,” he insulted her casually.

“Glyphian barbarian,” she countered coolly. They spun around the dance floor, casually insulting each other with friendly familiarity. Anyone who happened to overhear them would have assumed that they hated each other.

This left Maria sitting at the table alone. She might have looked lonely, but she was a loner by nature so she wasn't really bothered by this. She looked at the others, who seemed pretty transfixed on their partners, the music, and not running in to the other dancers. She grinned wickedly and picked up a few packages of salt, pepper, and sugar from the table. After all, the drinks had arrived while the others were dancing.

The music stopped playing as the pianist's fingers cramped, and everyone returned to their seats, a little winded and in high spirits. Maria sat with a small, placid smile on her face, a strange glint in her eyes, sipping her strawberry lemonade. Thirsty, chatting, the others reached for their drinks. Albel happened to glance at Maria as he started to reach for his cocktail. She smiled pleasantly at him, a mischievous glint in her blue eyes. He looked at his drink, back at her, and then folded his arms calmly. No one else happened to notice. About at the same time, the others took their first sip of their assorted beverages. Almost immediately, everyone at the table except Albel, who hadn't touched his drink, and Maria, who hadn't spiked her drink with something that shouldn't be in it, grimaced. Cliff turned his head and spit on the floor to rid his mouth of the horrid taste. Mirage and Fayt fumbled for their napkins. Sophia and Nel shuddered and forced themselves to swallow.

Slowly, all heads turned to Maria and Albel, the only two who hadn't had some reaction to their drinks. Nel, Fayt, Cliff, Sophia, and Mirage all quickly weighed what they knew of Maria versus what they knew of Albel. Who was more likely to have done this? Maria was more of a lady and certainly wasn't prone to such things. Albel, however, liked to stir up shit. Adversely, this was more of a juvenile prank, and Maria was the teenager. Nel also knew that Albel had been with her the entire time. Nel's gaze fell to Maria, an un-amused expression on her face.

Maria continued to smile placidly. Cliff knew that Maria wasn't the type to indulge in childish pranks. He glared at Albel. Mirage frowned in thought. Maria had been alone at the table. However, she just didn't seem to be the sort… She sided with Cliff and glared at Albel. Sophia immediately decided that it had to be Albel. She scowled at him. Fayt looked from Maria to Albel. Who could it have been?

“Albel, do you have something you want to admit to?” Cliff said calmly, drumming his fingers on the tabletop.

“No,” he answered.

The blonde raised an eyebrow. “That so? So are you gonna say you didn't put pepper in my beer?”

“Yes.”

“And you expect me to believe you?”

Albel raised an eyebrow for emphasis. “Yes.”

“So you're going to insist it wasn't you.”

“Yes!”
Nel raised a hand for silence. “It couldn't have been Albel. He was with me the entire time.” She scowled at Maria.

Mirage frowned. “Maria would never pull such a childish prank.”

“It couldn't have been Albel,” Nel insisted.

“It's much more likely Albel than Maria,” Sophia argued.

“I'm telling you, he was with me the entire time our drinks were here.”

Everyone looked at Maria, who was the only one who had been here. She shrugged noncommittally. “I got up and went to the bathroom once,” she said truthfully.

“Whatever,” Fayt said, throwing his hands up in the air. He waved at the waiter, getting his attention. “We'll just send them back.” This seemed to satisfy the others. Fayt explained the prank to the waiter, who was actually the sort to appreciate a practical joke. The drinks were sent back and new ones returned.

Everyone but Albel and Maria debated on who it could have been and eventually they took a democratic vote. Fayt actually refused to vote, which was fine because then it couldn't end in a tie. The jury's conclusion was that the guilty one was Albel, who was actually innocent this time. Albel didn't care enough to defend himself and Maria said nothing to the contrary, ever the murderess without guilty conscience about someone else taking blame for her crime.

After dinner, everyone split up again. Maria tripped off with Mirage to the theatre. Nel went to the beach to take a walk, and Sophia left to do some shopping.

On the way back to the resort, Cliff and Fayt attempted to get Albel to admit to his crimes. Finally, he got fed up. “It was Maria!” he snapped. “Why do you automatically blame me?”

This gave them both pause. They considered this. All the likely signs were that it was Maria. She had been there, with no alibi. Fayt looked at Albel. He had been with Nel the entire time, and Nel had adamantly defended this point, and her drink had been salted too. Fayt sighed deeply. “Okay, it must have been Maria.”

Cliff frowned. “No way. It couldn't be.”

Albel raised an eyebrow. Fayt crossed his arms. “Well, Maria was the only one who was alone and her drink wasn't `spiked.'”

“Why didn't you come to this conclusion earlier?” Albel demanded. Fayt shrugged helplessly. The Elicoorian sighed and glared accusingly at Cliff.

Cliff's frown deepened. “It just doesn't seem…” Then again, she hadn't really ever indulged in any childish pranks because she had been forced to grow up so quickly. Hell, it could have been her. In fact, it seemed pretty damn likely now that he really thought about it. He sighed, nodding his head. “Yes, I see.”

“Good,” Albel snapped. He pointed at him, then at Fayt. “Fix it.”

Fayt jumped to reach for his communicator. Cliff crossed his arms defiantly. “Or what?”
“I'm withholding sex,” he said matter-of-factly.

Cliff blinked, processing this information. He grabbed his communicator. Albel judged this to be satisfactory. They called Mirage, expressing their new views, then accused the proper person, who immediately apologized and promised to foot the bill for brunch tomorrow to make up for this. They happened to see Nel on the way to the beach and Cliff apologized for arguing with her. She felt satisfied and continued off alone.

“There, is it okay now?” Fayt asked Albel, a slight pleading tone to his voice.

Albel pursed his lips in a manner that suggested it wasn't. Cliff immediately jumped in. “Hey, I'm sorry, all right? I'll make it up to you,” he insisted. Albel stared at him the way someone stares at an offending spaghetti sauce stain on a white shirt. “I promise.” He suddenly smiled, placing his hands on Albel's hips. Albel remained as rigid as an iron pole in winter and just as cold. Cliff's tone dropped, low and seductive. “I've got an idea anyway.” He leaned down toward his ear. He whispered to him about one of his fantasies—silken rope, gags, leather ties, a whip, a set of handcuffs… Albel tied to the bedposts, a gag in his mouth… Cliff leaned back away from him. “Will that be enough?”

Albel considered this seriously. “You'd better deliver.” He glanced sidelong at Fayt, who had stood scowling the entire time as Cliff whispered to him. Fayt's eyebrows rose pleadingly. He didn't even need to say that he didn't want Albel to be angry with him. “I'm not angry with you,” he told him immediately. “You never accused me of anything and didn't `vote' that it was me.”

Fayt grinned and suddenly threw himself at Albel, nearly knocking him off-balance. Fayt kissed him several times before he let go. They walked back to the resort, everyone in a better mood.

Albel totally owns Cliff and Fayt. Sure, he gets picked on every so often because it's so easy to do so, but somehow everything falls in his favour in the end.

The boys had a masseuse sent up, put a movie on, and spent the rest of the evening relaxing. The masseuse was fairly quiet, was good at her job, and impersonal enough to let the three talk casually without interrupting.

Cliff found a mini bar, but decided not to raid it until later in the week. The masseuse told Cliff that he needed to take better care of his skin. Fayt, she said, just needed to use lotion more often. Albel, however, she said nothing about other than: “You have great skin. You must take good care of it.”

“Not really,” he said flatly. He barely took care of himself at all, with a sort of disregard for his physical appearance at that. And how he wore his hair, what he did, and the clothes he wore was done more to please himself than for aesthetics.

“You're really lucky,” she commented. Fayt and Cliff sort of scowled, and sort of smiled at the same time. They both liked and appreciated Albel's skin too. After the masseuse left, they “explored” the bedroom.

The needlessly large bed was immediately put to use. Slow, tender, embracing. Not so much about the sex and the pleasure this time as about wanting to be closer together, wanting their bodies to mold together. It was more about care and emotional attachment than the physical realm. The interesting thing is that they had never meant for there to be an emotional attachment. It wasn't supposed to have ended up that way. They were supposed to be sex partners and nothing more, but that had somehow escalated to “lover” instead.

As Fayt felt himself fall into the depths of sleep, he spoke without meaning to or, indeed, even realizing it. “I think I love you… both of you…”

Cliff and Albel looked at each other over Fayt, quietly, then each moved a little bit closer. Cliff kissed the side of Fayt's face. “Good night.”

“How do you feel?” Albel asked Cliff quietly, whispering to keep Fayt from waking.

He looked into Albel's eyes for a long moment, then back at the sleeping Fayt. “Maybe,” he said.

Albel frowned. “'Maybe'?”

He shrugged a shoulder slightly, careful not to disturb the Earthling. “Maybe one day. I care about you both. Maybe one day I'll love you. But I don't right now.”

Albel closed his eyes, relaxing his body as he prepared to fall asleep. He tilted his head a little, getting comfortable. “All right.”

“What about you?” the Klausian asked.

“Maybe,” he responded. Cliff nodded thoughtfully and leaned down in the pillow. Maybe, then.

The next day, the girls went to the beach and the guys actually joined them. Nel, Mirage, and Cliff went swimming. Cliff tried unlacing Mirage's bikini top and was rewarded for his efforts with a playful smack, but a serious threat that if he kept trying that she would “tell Albel and Fayt.” Knowing how they would both react, Cliff stopped his antics immediately. Sophia and Fayt went to work building a sandcastle, like when they were children. Maria leafed through a catalog from a nearby department store, trying to find a new swimsuit. Albel looked over her shoulder. She kept flipping from one page to another in indecision. She glanced at him. “What do you think? The black or the purple one?”

He pointed at one that she hadn't mentioned. “You'd look better in the white one.” She looked at it closely. She considered, then nodded. “Yeah, now that you mention it…” She looked at him and motioned him to come a little closer. She flipped to the men's section and pointed, grinning. “This'd lookgreat on you.” It was more or less a string bikini for men.

“Right.”

She flipped to another page, pointing to a model on the page. “Fayt.”

He raised his eyebrows, looking at Fayt, then back at the picture. “If it were in blue.”

“Stop talking about me,” Fayt complained. Maria laughed. Fayt looked back at Sophia. “We need a better shell for this part…” Maria took out a book to read after she called the store and had her size put on hold. Albel went for a walk alone along the beach. Fayt and Sophia continued work sculpting their sandcastle and digging a moat, as all proper castles apparently have a moat, preferably one that is home to a family of either crocodiles or electric eels.

Albel came back carrying something. He held his hand out awkwardly to Fayt.

“What?” Fayt wondered.

“You and Sophia were complaining that you couldn't find the right shell for your… castle… Here,” he said quietly. Fayt picked the shell up out of his hand. Somehow, Albel had found a perfectly shaped shell that was a lovely shade of pink.

“Oh, it's so pretty!” Sophia said.

Fayt laughed aloud at the idea that it was Albel who had brought it to him. Albel turned and walked away, flopping back on his towel again. Fayt put it at the top of the castle as a decoration. The swimmers came back to dry off and get something to drink from the cooler. The group headed off for lunch, and split up again after a light meal. The girls went to the spa, and the guys went back to their room for another romp in bed.

Fayt looked at each of them as they lay together. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, preparing himself. “I really think I love you both,” he confessed. Cliff kissed him. Albel squeezed his side affectionately. “But I don't know how you feel.”

The Elicoorian kissed his cheek softly. “Maybe. I love you… maybe,” he said. He looked at Cliff, the meaning passing between them.

“Just… maybe… for now,” Cliff agreed. “But I care about you both.”

“I guess… it's enough. For now,” Fayt decided.

They spent a week in a sort of blissful happiness, swimming in the sea, walks on the beach, exploring tide pools and the like. They walked around the surrounding town, and just in general had a pretty good time. And let's not forget all the intimate moments in their room.

Still, though, the answer to “Do you love me” was only a resounding “maybe.” Nothing definite. Nothing stable. Simply “maybe.”

Fayt never let the other two catch on, but it was depressing and wore on his own feelings. They didn't love him. And yet, while they insisted that they cared, and that they might in the future, they didn't love him now. Still, he felt like he could be patient. But every time he felt the stirring in his heart, the warm sensation of being in love, he wanted to tell them. But the sensation always went cold when he heard “maybe” or “I care about you.” It was like them saying flat-out “I don't love you.” It may have been better if they had just kissed him or something. If they only didn't speak it might have had a better affect on Fayt. But he really wanted to communicate his own feelings to them. It hurt, and he didn't know how to go about telling them how it hurt. It was wrong to insist they have feelings they didn't yet, and it wasn't unreasonable to be patient… but it was still unrequited love. It made for great poetry and brilliant novels, but it made for a depressing reality.

Somewhere in Fayt's mind, the word “maybe” echoed solemnly.