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In the quiet halls of the Myers' employee passageway, the boy's footsteps were like loud drums in a parade. However, instead of harmonious instruments being joined together, only metal scraping against the floor met his ears. Instead of colorful streamers and banners, his suit was decorated with several splashes of blood. Instead of excitement and joy, the air was thick with fear and adrenaline.
The boy had been fending off the horrible freak of nature for quite a while now-- he had dropped his sad excuse of a weapon earlier in the passageway, left for whoever found it to ponder on the thing's questionable design and the fresh blood still coating it. Now, he had the robotic monstrosity cornered in the Myers Lobby. Just as he was about to put it out of its misery, he hears soft beeping from the other side of the door. He mutters a silent curse under his breath.
"Goddamnit."
Both him and the monster looked on in surprise and anticipation. The beeping came to a halt, and the door slowly opened. He sees a flash of black, hears the whirring of gears, and--
"No-!"
He immediately bolts for the cyborg who saw an opportunity in the frozen girl standing by the entrance. It gets up in her face, but before it could do anything more, he grabs it by its stray arm and flings it to a corner. Upon impact, some parts fly off the body, and it finally goes limp. He's left sweating and panting, staring in the face of victory, hovering over the fainted lady.
His hair is still tousled, his bowtie is slightly crooked, and his suit is dirtied a little more than he'd like to, but it's nothing he can't fix. What he wasn't ready for was when he settled his eyes on the passed out stranger, and the rush of emotions that came flooding back when her name clicked in his brain.
"V..Va--"
His hand flies up to cover his mouth swiftly. He spins his head left and right to see if anyone else was around, but is met with the eerie silence of the passageway. Letting out a shaky sigh, he picks the girl up by supporting her legs and back, and reenters the lobby. There, he settles her down on the floor, but can't bring himself to let go.
"...Valeria, huh."
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"Haha, you were so close!"
"Ugh, I knowwww. I'll get it next time, I promise! I just really want that doll-"
"Then why don't I try for you?"
He finds himself repeating the words of the boy in the pair standing before an arcade's claw machine. He's seen this scene play out more times than he'd like in his head, a memory forever echoing as if with the intention to haunt him. He wordlessly watches the two from afar.
He sees the boy, dressed in a simple shirt and jacket paired with black jeans and the most out-of-place (but still miraculously color-coordinated) boots he's ever feast his eyes on. The girl, donning a black off-shoulder and a short black skirt with matching leggings, steps aside to let her partner try a hand at the game. With narrowed eyes, he grips onto the joystick and hovers his hand over the button. He had a confident smirk on his face, while the girl was staring with a mix of awe and confusion. Slowly but surely, he catches the doll in the claw’s grip, and both of them are holding their breath in anticipation-- like if they dared to even speak , the air would knock the long-awaited prize away from their reach again. After what feels like forever, the doll falls into the chute and they hear a satisfying ‘thunk!’ below them. She looks at the ecstatic boy with wide eyes, her lips subtly curling into a smile.
“...Are you sure this is your first time playing this?”
His smirk only widens as he hands the doll to her. “I’d never lie to you, my lady.”
She starts to laugh as she takes the prize, her hand politely covering her mouth as she does. “Again with the formalities, Draco?”
The suit clad boy watching the distant memory play in front of him tenses up upon hearing his own name— much more from her mouth. How long has it been since then? Months? Years? Not even he can remember anymore. He wants to pry his eyes away from the scene, but he’s frozen in place.
He sees himself press a soft kiss to the girl’s lifted hand, color blooming on her cheeks as it happens. Hand in hand, they walk away to check out the other attractions in the arcade, paying him no mind as they do.
The sequence dissolves away into nothing before his eyes. He’s back staring blankly at the purple walls of the lobby, the unconscious girl wrapped tightly in his arms. He brushes the hair away from her face and takes the moment to gaze at her features. He had always envied how peaceful she looked when she slept— even if everything wrong was going on in the world, the moment she’d be tucked into bed, she’d be out like a light. He smiled fondly remembering the times she’d fall asleep in the most curious of places— as uncomfortable as her position may have been, she'd still wake up like it was the best sleep she’s had in ages. While watching the rising and falling of her chest, Draco is only then hit with the realization—
She is here. She is alive.
But she doesn’t remember a thing.
She doesn’t remember him, and she doesn’t remember herself, either. She doesn’t remember her origins, their origins. She doesn’t remember anything at all.
Tears start to spill from his eyes, but he’s afraid that if he made even the smallest sound, she would wake still enveloped in his embrace. Even so, he clutches her tighter and tighter, sobbing into the space around them. He’s filled with grief, then painful rage— he curses the world for taking her from him. He curses the world for taking her from herself. But most of all, he curses himself for allowing it to even happen in the first place.
He stays still there, sniffling as softly as possible, gently combing his fingers through her hair for longer than one could count. Muttering the most genuine of apologies, whispering words of affection only she could ever have the chance to hear.
Because despite everything, he was still hers, even if he could not say the same for her anymore.
Laying her down on the ground, he wipes his eyes dry unceremoniously despite having a handkerchief tucked neatly in his pocket. He runs his hand through his hair and straightens his coat, brushing away any stray dirt from his little scuffle with the monster earlier. Glancing at her one last time, he gets up on his feet and tucks his hands behind his back. He clears his throat and looms over her, cocking his head to the side. He musters his best smile-- yet despite having it been practically etched into his skin, he can’t help but feel himself waver a little. He takes a breath, and opens his mouth, and all the words come tumbling down like second nature.
“Lady Valeria? Lady Valeria, with all due respect, napping here is not the most sensible choice.”