Chapter Text
9:46 Dragon 1/Matrinalis
It’s called an epiphany when one comes to a certain level of understanding and possible revelations after careful examinations of a situation or problem.
Doesn’t really matter the exact definition of the word.
It’s the little things you notice first. It’s easy to dismiss most, not meeting your eyes in conversation, not returning a smile as simply bad timing or a difficult day.
It’s when the same reactions continue for days, with no change in mood. Questions of well-being are met with short or curt “I’m fine” responses followed up with periods of silence that stretch for hours. Not wanting to add to the tension, you let it go and retreat further into whatever shell you’ve built.
Those outside your little encapsulated world offer all kinds of advice, most of it heartfelt and eager to be the right answer. The scary thing - the answer simmering is one you do not wish to face.
Then there are those who see it as self-indulgence, the filthy need to create a false dramatic pretense. If it were, you’d think of something better. something less painful.
The signs are there, you make excuses everything will be as it should. The first time she pulls away from you, shock on your face, the hurried apology of being startled or tired is accepted. It could not be any more than what she claims.
A strange stillness settles within, accompanied by the almost constant feeling of tears just gathering beneath the surface, never quite pushing through. The fear grows. Uncertainties invade the silences in your mind.
The distance between you grows even in close quarters. Where once that closeness would prompt a touch, caress or a smile, you are sure she moved further away. So you do as well, turning away and letting your fear of rejection and perceived loneliness choke you.
It’s not until the words are spoken that you have continued to believe you misread the signs.
“I can’t do this.” She tells you.
You don’t want to have this conversation, but it comes. “What can’t you do?”
“This. I can’t give you what you want. You’re much stronger than me, you’ll be fine.” Her sigh takes your breath along with it as it leaves her.
Anger takes over, not sadness. “What changed?”
“Nothing changed. It’s just too much.” She returns to staring out the window and does not speak again.
Cullen drops the quill on the journal page without a glance from her. She cradles the sling he fashioned unaware of his presence.
He believes he is stronger than this fear, this sadness. They fought the darkness and the demons together years ago and prevailed. Alone Cullen swears he will fight the darkness, his sword and shield long tarnished by neglect and despair; he will try again to open her eyes to the love they once shared before she is forever lost to the memories that consume her.