Dedicated to Romance

***

The rain pounds down the pavement furiously, the sky matching the grey streets. It's all grumbles and annoyance, the constant honk of cars increasing in a challenge, people slamming car doors and yelling at each other on the streets.

She moves through the crowd with a veteran's ease, her mood matching the streets and the sky and the honking and the yelling- grey, foggy. The noise mixed with music fast and slow and the persistent, ever-present buzz of strangers drowns out her thoughts, the coffee burning her lungs and bringing life to her numb hands and cheeks.

It's all stupid, stupid, stupid. She crosses with a bunch of impossibly thin high - school teens who sound like bells- it pisses her off. It's cacophony- gives her a headache.

She throws away her half finished coffee and sticks her hands in her pockets, wishing she didn't have to walk in this miserable weather. She rubs her hands and waits at the crossing, her day going from grey to black as two cars whiz past, breaking the signal - her chance to cross. Damn. She's gonna be late. Stupid taxies. Had to go on strike.

She's about to freeze to death in this miserable cold, she swears. Stupid after school job. But she needs the money and she has no choice. Stupid parents that were too wrapped up in their own problems to give a shit about her.

She's shivering downright, she knows she's gonna-

But suddenly she's warm and someone snuggles into her and her spine straightens and she melts-

"Oh my gods! You are not who I thought you were holy-" It's the voice that gets her, the rich, deep voice that makes her sigh and look at the other girl with literal heart shaped eyes.

It's sleek, wet jet-black hair and piercing green eyes and everything about her is H.D, a stark contrast to the day around her. She's covered in a black wind-sheeter that is a literal potato sack but she still somehow, infuriatingly, makes it work. There's a name-tag peeking from her pocket- 'Esmeralda'- and the name's instantly in her head- it's musical.  And Adria's mad at her, no doubt, for invading her personal space like that, and she definitely doesn't wanna kiss the crap out of this random, hot stranger and she's definitely listening to the stranger's long winded apology and not at all focused on her plump lips-

"So yeah, um, aren't you crossing?" Damn that voice. It made her want to drool.

"Oh, yeah. Um, sorry. School's annoying. Tired. Me, I mean. You- um..." She stumbles, slapping herself inwardly for her mess of words.

"O...kay. I'm just gonna-" She crosses the signal fast, shaking her head. Jesus.

***

She's home and removing her miserable, dripping jacket, her mind replaying the conversation with that stranger over and over- something crinkles in her pocket- A slip. A number. She smiles impossibly wide, practically squealing as she enters her room. 'Esmeralda.' Huh. Not a mistake then.

So she types the number in her phone. And her day turns from grey to gold.

***

There's blood in her mouth and burning tears on her face. There's gunshots and screams and the constant patter of rain and dust and grime and the stink of bodies that are never cleared. There's the rumble of thunder and the flash of lightning and she should get away from the field-but she won't- can't. And she'll probably die in a matter of minutes, now- there's bombshells exploding everywhere. But she doesn't care.

It's faint heartbeats and rattled breaths, but the dying girl cracks a smile and clutches her girlfriend's cheek with blood-red hands. Her other hand grips the girl's knees- surprisingly strong.

"Please, Es." Her voice shivers, about to break. Her eyes are redder than the dying girl's blood.

"There's no time, Aid. I'm tired." Her eyes are closing, her voice is a whisper, cracked, rattled.

"I can't Smee... I can't- live without you." she chokes on the words.

The girl pulls herself up dangerously, her blood- deprived body swaying heavily as she puts the other girl's ears to her mouth.

"Move on, Adria. You deserve it." And she falls.

There's rain and there's fire, there's screams and silence, there's racing hearts and rotting bodies surrounding her as she kisses her lover's corpse for the last time. The sight of blood pouring doesn't even make her heave- not when it's Esmeralda's. There's fire in her heart and blood lining her lips. They're yelling at her from safety because 'Aid you're gonna kill yourself!' and 'We need you. The country needs you,' but they never come toward her. They never hold her tight on the cemetery that's become her home.

***

Its a daze; perfect order and perfect aim. Forceful smiles at jokes that were supposed to be funny. Awards and medallions that decorated her clothing as perfect speeches were practiced. Her eyes are a cloudy haze, her mind is a wall that people fear to break down. She does her duty and her shell hardens. But not all threats to soft cores come from outside. And so she crumbles.

And then fire's doused by ice that chokes what's let of her heart, tightening its grip every day that she wakes up to a cold bed and a living room without song and tears she never lets flow.

**10 years later**

He's twiddling his thumbs and playing with his bracelet. Nervous. So Adria Stevenson slams the door shut and flops onto the couch.

"What's up, Solace?" she grins.

"Don't kill me but-" Guilty.

"That usually means I'm about to kill you." she cocks her head to the side, eyebrows raised.

"But I set up a Tinder account for you... And you've got a date tomorrow night."

Her face twitches without humour.

"Why? There's no-"

Twists his ring, looks down. Takes a shaky, deep breath.

"It's been 10 years. Its time to move on." 10 years of heartache and cold beds and grey mornings.

"Solace-"

"And I hear you crying every night and it hurts me more than you realize." He's persistent, but he's shaking.

"Look I-"

"And you know she'd have wanted you to be happy."

"But I am-"

"Aid. No happy person cries themselves to sleep." He says, matter-of-factly, but his eyes betray the worry, the pity.

Her shoulders fall.

"I miss her." A whisper in the wind.

He mirrors her voice, feather soft. "I know."

"But maybe... It's time to let go. Because you wanted this Aid. You wanted a family. Cause-"

"Cause I didn't have one of my own." She finished, her eyes a sheen.

But how could she move on? How could she let go of Esmeralda? Her- her girlfriend, her everything. Because that would mean not loving her, betraying her- but betraying what, exactly? She wanted this, and Esmeralda wasn't coming back, as much as that hurt to think. Betraying her memory? She'd have wanted this- 'Move on' she said. But if she moved on, did she ever love her, truly? How could she forget, how could she-

The thoughts churn in her head, tumbling onto her with such force she has to grip the edge of the couch. They're fast and they're pulsating- lazy days and hand holding and gentle kisses and passion and love and fights and-

'Move on Aid. You deserve it.' The voice rings in her head, clear as day, breaking through the tide that threatens to drown her. It's rich and deep and full of love and loss and sorrow. But it's there.

And she thinks of what she's wanted, Esmeralda or not. To love hopelessly, helplessly. Coffee in the kitchen and warm beds and... life. And it's a beautiful image she can get lost in, movie dates and feather soft kisses, being held and holding on. 

So she keeps the impossible image and it's warm and gold. She smiles at Will. "So... girl or guy?"

Will's face breaks into a grin.

***

There's glittering candlelight and sea breeze and a million different smells and the delicate chatter of people - where you couldn't pick out individual voices. She sits down slowly, cautiously, her eyes darting around, back straight, chin high, shoulders back, the only evidence of her nervousness her stupid, shaking leg that made the bench rattle- but it's different, a good kind of nervous, where your stomach is filled with anticipatory butterflies. 'Okay, I can do this'

Because no longer is there red-hot blood and gashes that burn in the rain. No longer are there stoic expressions and perfect order. No longer do gunshots sound all night long- no longer do the screams of people ring in her ears. The picture falls apart to honking cars zooming across the night and the salty tang of bread and soy sauce and a dress that's almost too soft, too delicate for a person like her.

So she relaxes the shoulders that were unknowingly taut and lets her face fall into an easy smile, her leg stilling. And she dreams of the new girl- it's a blind date- she gave up in Tinder, instead choosing to meet with a friend of Will's friend.

And she's ready because this is what Esmeralda would have wanted- for her to be happy, as she would have wanted for her- more than anything. To never forget but to make peace with what was , to move on- to what would be- could be- if she let it.

She sighs and fidgets with her bread, wondering what the most regal way to eat it would-

"Sorry, sorry!"

And the door to the balcony's blown open and the bell rings to announce someone's presence and the world stops. The guests look at the girl in mild disgust but for Adria that's the blur at the side of a tunnel. She stares, agape, tears filling her eyes. There's jet black hair and bright green eyes and bright red lipstick and it's all too much.

Because she's back to that rainy day where she called a stranger's number while biting her nails, she's kissing and breathing heavily in the back of a car, she's enveloped by the sun as someone rests their chin on her shoulder and she turns behind and laughs as they miss her lips and their noses bump and the other girl moves back, her face wrinkling. 'Ow. Love really is painful,' because one night they'd looked up at the stars and blurted it out together.

And they're whispering 'I love yous' and sharing a kiss before going for a shift, crisp nods exchanged for formality's sake but never saying goodbye because they couldn't and they're laughing for getting caught making out in a janitor's closet as a wild blush spreads across both their faces and there's an engagement ring that fits her perfectly as tears roll down her face and she practically squeals with delight-

"Why the tears?"

The voice gets her and she snaps back to reality. It's squeaky, childish, not rich and deep and full of love- like it was in her head. Because the memories are limited to her head.

But her nose's stuffed up and and there's tears running down her face and her makeup's not waterproof and her whole body is shaking as she stands, wincing as the chair creaks.

"I'm sorry."

She walks out. Because she can't imagine her life with anyone else because there's no one like Smee, no one who fills her life and laughs and smiles and kisses and cries like she does -and the love only exists in her head now but it's so real- so true, so there. And she told her to move on but move on to who? And how? Because she walks in the cold alone, because she bears the brunt of the memories, the good and the bad and she wants to yell at the sky because it's so unfair that she'll never hear wedding bells and get caught making out in a closet and never hear that rich, deep voice and love. So she sits on the pavement and sobs, gut - wrenching sobs that speak of a broken heart that can never be healed- but no one comes to put their arm around her. Not anymore. 

***