So sorry this is so late.

____

June, 2019

When the familiar forest edge lining one side of the tracks and the red-brick station bordering the other filled my sight as the train came to a stop at its final destination, my stomach began to churn.

This is a bad idea, I immediately thought as the doors flew open.

Olivia was already standing next to me, waiting for me to get out. But my body was frozen in place.

I was lucky last time when I brought her here... though she lost Ben.

With only the two of us now... was she doomed to die here too?

Or was it finally my time to go?

"Hey," she said softly, taking me by surprise.

Head jolting her way, my brows pinched together as I assessed her expression: sorrowful but understanding.

"Nothing is going to go wrong. I promise," she said quietly before giving my shoulder an unelectrified touch of reassurance.

The hands I hadn't realised I was clenching against the seat in front—prohibiting her from passing me—finally released their tension. I heaved a deep breath I also didn't notice I was holding and let her emerald eyes calm me.

How did she know what was bothering me?

"Come on," she said. "Stephen's waiting."

Reluctantly, I got up from my seat, still without saying a word, and slipped into the aisle. Ignoring her protests about getting her own luggage, I busied myself with pulling her bag down from above and threw it over my shoulder. Gripping the straps as I staggered down the aisle was a helpful distraction for the nerves.

Why do you even care if this gets her killed? the familiar voice in my head questioned. It's not like you didn't warn her before.

Because, I replied back to it as I took a step off the train into the brisk summer night outside, I may resent her for leaving, but I still don't want a world where she doesn't exist. I don't want another death on my hands.

That's the thing. It wouldn't be on your hands. It would be on h—

"Lukas! Olivia!" a familiar, deep voice called from the middle of the platform, cutting my internal debate short.

My head whipped around, seeking him out. I had texted him on the train to Frankfurt—after the talk with Olivia—to warn him of our arrival.

He had been quick to reply that he'd pick us up; though even without typing it, I could tell from his choice of words—and the expression on his face now—he also was wary of us being here.

"Hi Stephen," Olivia said a little timidly as we approached him.

But as his gaze locked on the fairy, a warm smile consumed its gauntness, all traces of tiredness and mourning evaporating from his body as he held his arms open. "Ollie," he said, eyes softening. "Come here."

I watched the copper-haired girl take a hesitant step closer to him, extending her shaky arms around him. But as he pulled her in and gripped her close, I watched all the tension eventually heave out from her body as she returned the hug more warmly.

"I don't blame you, okay?" he whispered in her ear so quietly I knew it was only meant to be heard by her.

Nonetheless, I eavesdropped anyway, eyes glancing this way and that as I pretended I gave them their privacy.

"But—" she started to reply.

"No," he breathed. "It's not your fault. It was a shitty turn of events, and you did what had to be done. Ben left this world with so much love, dying for someone he loves. And I'm just glad he experienced joy at all in his life."

While they were meant to be words of comfort for her, I watched Olivia's face deflate as her mind evidently convinced her it wasn't the case: that Ben shouldn't have gone how he had or that it was her fault.

Wanting to cut her gloominess short, I interrupted their reunion with, "Should we get going? It's been a long day, and I could use some pills if you've got them, Stephen."

Letting her go, he looked at me next with a smile before saying. "Of course." But then he glanced over both of us and added a surprised, "Just the one bag?"

"Ah, yeah," I said, trying to not give away too much in case there were listening ears. "I tagged along on this trip as a very last minute thing, so I don't have anything."

Stephen's lips pursed together in understanding before giving me a grim nod. Then he said much more cheerily, "Never mind that! You can borrow some of my things. It won't be your style, but anything is better than nothing I guess."

"Indeed," I agreed, and, with that, we took off to his car—me snagging the passenger seat and Olivia burying herself into the back, a distant look crossing her face as that creased returned between her brows.

I wonder what troubles plague her mind, I couldn't help but think as we took off on the short drive to Stephen's.

· · ───── ∘☽༓☾∘ ───── · ·

Despite the short notice I had given, Stephen thankfully had enough time to pull together an impromptu meal, somehow whipping up a spread suitable for two carnivorous vampires and a vegetarian fairy.

As he set down the ricotta cannelloni in front of Olivia—her eyes lighting up in delight—he happily said, "Ben told me this was your favourite."

Shaking her head, her hands fumbled with her fork and knife, mouth opening and closing as she became lost for words. She glanced momentarily at the empty seat beside her—one I guess Ben would have taken if he were still with us—before looking at Stephen with glassy eyes. "I didn't realise he spoke about me with you."

"Of course he did! The boy could never shut up about each thing he adored about you whenever I called," Stephen laughed as he pulled out his seat across from her. With a wistfulness washing his gaze and a small smile spreading across his face, he watched Olivia take a bite of the food. "I miss my son, and I wish he was still here with us. But as I said earlier, Ollie, I'm glad that, before he did leave this world, he at least got to find some happiness with you. And you made my boy so happy."

Her chews slowed as she started to push the remnants of the food around on her plate. "I didn't in his last days though." Her eyes briefly flickered up, glancing at me as I knew what thoughts probably stewed in her mind: our entanglement, our returning feelings, her confession...

I looked down at my own food and started to saw off a slab of meat, doing my best to not look at her again.

"Relationships are full of ups and downs," Stephen sighed, clearly having seen the exchange between us as he glanced over me as he spoke. "You can't dismiss the joy you created for him though simply because he left this world during the downtime of your relationship."

"Yeah... I guess. Though I wish our journey had led to a different fate. As horrible as all the turns taken were in our relationship due to decisions made in and out of our control, he never deserved to die for me. He never should have."

As she spoke, my hand had clenched around my fork, bending the metal slightly. She had said on the train that she was over the past, that she didn't blame me, but it was starting to sound a lot like she still held resentment for me wiping her memories. That she still believed it was my fault Ben died.

Which was why I ended up pushing myself away from the table, mumbling that I wasn't really hungry and was going to turn in for the night first.

Stephen barely waited until I was out of sight—though definitely not out of hearing distance—to state, "You've come here together, but don't seem to have really made up."

"I said some really horrible things when I left that not even I would forgive me for..." she explained. "It's probably going to take time. But I think he's open to letting me back in... just not to the point where he's lowered the wall he's erected between us."

A sigh sounded from Stephen as I reached the top step, and I couldn't help but pause, waiting for whatever came next. "He didn't tell me you had left. I only found out when I visited London not long ago."

"Really?"

There was a moment of silence—presumably filled with a nod—before Stephen went on with, "He was actually reluctant to even talk about you. As if you had died and not Ben."

"Yeah, well, it makes sense. I was an ex-girlfriend who destroyed a bond between us and caused him pain, and also a really shitty friend who left him when he lost a brother. I'm just glad that, despite what I did, he found happiness with someone else... if only I hadn't ruined it by returning."

"Oh Ollie, I'm sure it wasn't your f—"

"Emma outright admitted to me she broke up with him because I came back."

Another sigh escaped him. "It's not like you destroyed much—"

"He had a bond invitation with her. They clearly had a deep conn—"

"It's amazing how much the heart can try to delude itself when it's trying to heal. Sometimes it even latches on to anyone as a distraction."

Olivia was quiet for a few moments before whispering, "I don't appreciate you downgrading their relationship. I'm sure Lukas knows how—"

"I've seen Lukas in this state twice. The first was after Anja. He took his time dating again, but he was never quite happy. How can you be after losing your first love in such a horrific way? Even Erica, who he was with for a long time, never brought that same joy to him that he had when with her. Every girlfriend thereafter was a distraction... And then you came along. Of course, I didn't know it then, but Lukas seemed so alive when I visited him and Ben in London the time before last to alert them of Rüdiger's plans. That was around the time he was living with you. And while he was certainly beside himself when you were with my son, I could see that passion—that drive I hadn't seen in the boy who had never known love—still lurking in his eyes. But when I went back in April to see him and organise Ben's grave, he was that same boy who had just seen the love of his life die. Maybe even worse."

Deciding I had heard enough, I headed to the bathroom. But, unfortunately, could still hear their conversation through the closed door.

"But it's not possible," Olivia replied. "Our bond broke so he shouldn't have felt anything for me. Maybe he was just having a bad day."

"Bond or not, Olivia, you meant more to him than anyone ever has. You were more than a lover. It was clear from the way he watched you and treated you when you were with my son. You were his best friend. And there's no cure for losing that."

It was only once I turned the shower on that their words finally drowned out. With the hot water rushing over my ears, I gripped the walls and added a silencing spell to the room—this time locking all noise out so that I couldn't eavesdrop again. So that I couldn't hear another person tell Olivia how pathetic I had become in the wake of her leave.

· · ───── ∘☽༓☾∘ ───── · ·

The steam wafted out of the room as I exited into the hallway almost half an hour later. And thanks to the deadening spell I had casted earlier, I had no clue who was about to greet me on the other side.

Green eyes grew wide, her steps paused, and her arms gripped her belongings even closer to her as her gaze swept over me.

I tried to not read into the redness of her cheeks or the pounding of her heart as she took in my state: hair still sopping wet and towel loosely clenched around my waist as I tried to make a dash to my room. In all my fury earlier, I had forgotten to get a spare change of clothes from Stephen. Moreover, I didn't want to put my old, dirty clothes back on, but didn't think to check if the hallway was clear before I exited

"S-sorry," she blurted before averting her eyes, the scarlet deepening across her porcelain skin.

Brows pulling together, I replied with a dumbfounded, "Why are you apologising?"

"I didn't mean to..." But she trailed off, eyes flickering my way again, then widening before glancing anywhere but me.

"Didn't mean to... run into me in the hallway that's free for anyone to use?" I probably should have fled when she caught me. But after everything Stephen had already told her, I was desperate to keep some form of composure in front of her. Some form of decorum... well, as much that can be had when wearing only a towel.

"Yes... no..." She glanced my way again, this time trying very hard to look at my face, though also somehow still avoiding eye contact. "I didn't mean to run into you in... this attire."

Tucking the towel into place, I crossed my arms over my bare chest and leaned against the wall, enjoying her spluttering state a little too much. "Well, of course not. Hallways aren't places you expect to see people half-naked. I'd be concerned if you were expecting this."

"Well, actually," she mumbled in a tone so low I wasn't sure if I was meant to hear, "If it happens a third time, I'd start to think we should expect this."

"A third?" I repeated.

And, just as I had assumed, her gaze widened as she met my eyes, clearly having hoped I wouldn't hear her aside. "I... we once... in London..." She looked away again, her cheeks flushing so dark I was almost sure her head might pop off from the pent-up heat causing the crimson.

"Ah, yes... I remember. The roles were reversed, and you were in the towel." The image flashed through my mind, pulling out a small smile as the memory resurfaced. "I believe you apologised that time too."

"Of course! I wasn't appropriately dressed in a shared space so... wait. Shouldn't you be apologising in this situation?" The redness depleted slightly as her eyes narrowed.

Cocking an eyebrow, I replied, "Why? You've seen this all before. Don't you remember our pool trip in Cologne?"

And, once again, her heart skipped a beat as she tried to look anywhere but me. "That's different."

"Is it now?" I pushed myself off the wall and took a step closer to her.

"You were wearing board shorts." Her bottom lip pouted out.

"And now I'm wearing a towel." I closed the distance a little more.

"Yeah, and nothing underneath that." She was desperately trying to not look at me.

"How would you know?" I asked, only a step away from her now.

Her eyes widened as she glanced back at me, jolting slightly as she took in how close we now were. "Well, I wouldn't, but I assume—"

"Assuming? So you're imagining what's under my towel, are you, Ollie?"

She guffawed, heart racing so fast, cheeks so red as she met my gaze this time. "One doesn't have to imagine. It's a general expectation that—" But her words got caught in her throat. Mouth hanging open, I watched the embarrassment wash away from her features, quickly replacing with glossy eyes and a look of joy.

Smile dropping from my face, I took a step back, not trusting her expression. "What?"

"You called me Ollie."

Four simple words hit me deeper than I thought as a multitude of realisations caught up with me. I had called her Ollie. I also smiled at her. I brought up memories from our past without feeling sad or fazed. But most importantly, one thought echoed through my mind in loud demands for answers.

Did I just... was I just... flirting with her?

"Sorry," I muttered brusquely. "Slip of the tongue, Olivia." At once, I stepped around her and started storming towards my room, as I should have done earlier rather than being roped into her flabbergasted demeanour.

"Lukas," she called out after me just as I had reached my door.

"Yeah?" I hesitantly asked before glancing at her over my shoulder.

Her eyes were fixed on my back before meeting my gaze, this time full of morose. "I can heal those, if you want."

"Heal what?" I asked, not quite present in the conversation and only wanting to hide in my room for the evening.

"Your... scars."

I followed her gaze over me, realising she was referring to the UV marks Rüdiger created many years ago. "You can?" I asked in surprise.

She nodded. "I believe so. I mean, I got rid of your burns that day you came to see me... I don't know if you remember. You were a little out of it."

The hazy memory came back. Another time I was shirtless in front of Olivia. Another time she had seen me in a state I never wanted her to see. "How can you do that?" I then asked.

She shook her head. "I guess you don't remember me explaining back then... But I learned a lot back in Australia from someone who's an expert in Terra Fairies. Apparently, with the right stones, we can conjure healing magic."

Stupidly, my first thought was, Who is this someone? Was it a lover? But I shook those thoughts as quickly as I could because, It's none of my business and doesn't matter. "Right," I then said before clearing my throat and remnants of unwelcomed and unjustified jealousy. "Well, I'll keep your offer in mind."

But as I turned to leave, "Not that you have to get rid of them."

I glanced back at her, hand frozen on the doorknob.

"Like, I'm not saying you should get rid of those scars because they make you ugly or anything."

I cocked an eyebrow at her.

"What?" she demanded, cheeks going red again. "Bond or not, it's not like I can't see you're attractive."

And so the other eyebrow went up.

"And I'm not saying I'm into you. I... Ugh." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, this time speaking without looking at me. "I'm not offering to remove them because I think they're... unbecoming. You look fine as you are. More than. I'm offering it in case you wanted to get rid of the physical reminder. I don't mean to erase the past or anything, just..." She sighed and opened her eyes again. "You know what, forget it. I don't know what I'm trying to say anymore. I'm just going to go for my shower."

Pivoting on her heel, she took a couple of steps towards the bathroom. So I said, "I get it."

She paused.

"You once had a scar on your wrist."

Glancing back at me, her gaze became a little misty before she said, "I told you about that?"

"I mean... yes. Of course. We told each other almost everything. But you didn't have to tell me about it because I saw it."

"You did?" Her brows knotted together as she evidently worked hard to try to remember—though failed.

"I got rid of it." This time, the memories hurt as they came back. But I didn't care. My attention instead stayed focussed on Olivia, watching the confusion wash over her face as I hoped I didn't resurface any feelings of despair that used to come with her scar.

"Why?" she whispered.

"Because you asked me to."

"How did—"

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter. It's in the past. I just wanted to say I understand why you offered, so don't worry about explaining it."

Her lips pressed together though and she made no move to leave.

So I said, "Go have your shower."

"But—"

"I'll see you in the morning."

Her mouth opened again to retort. Though before she could get another word in, I yanked open the door behind me and stepped into the room, closing it just as she started to say, "I want to know more."

I pressed my head against the wooden surface, listening to her breathing and fluttering heart in the hallway. She stood still in the one spot for a while, maybe staring at the door, maybe lost in thought. But eventually her soft footsteps thudded against the floorboards and the bathroom door opened and closed, the shower running not long after it.

And I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

While I felt okay bringing up the times of joy we had after I teased her earlier, the memories of our vulnerabilities we used to share with each other—and no longer did—haunted my heart. I let her knock down the wall twice that guarded me from others regarding my pains from the past.

But I was sure I couldn't let her in a third time.

Because would I survive the next time she left me?

I don't know  if I'm just that tired and nitpicky, but I feel like every word I write is  boring.  Hope it's  not the same for you readers. Let me know in the comments if you're still enjoying this or if you'd prefer I stop writing until I can  make it better.