Glass bead
Imported from SF2 with no description.
I'm sorry but I took longer than it should to write this part. A small update, but we are nearly there.
From that fateful night, I kept avoiding Larke—for obvious reasons. Everything reminded me of him, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get him out of my mind. Larke noticed something was off with me too. I couldn't hold a proper conversation with him anymore, stumbling over my words, every interaction laced with awkwardness. He brought it up several times, but I kept brushing it off, lying that everything was fine, and nothing to worry about.
But how could I ever tell him the truth? That I had feelings for my own brother? It will be the end of the world. I couldn't even bear to think about what would happen if he found out.
So I just buried it deep down in my own heart, never to face that horrible feeling again. But it was still too fresh, too raw, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't contain it. The pressure built up, and I realized that I… needed some kind of release.
Never in my life have I imagined myself as some pervert stealing my own brother's clothes. But its smell was so intoxicating. But there I was, lost in the scent, overwhelmed by the musk that clung to every fabric, trying to breathe him in like I needed it to survive. It felt so wrong, yet I couldn't stop.
I hated myself for it, wished desperately that things had never changed, that I hadn't discovered these feelings. Maybe it would've been better if I ran away—disappeared before he ever had the chance to notice. It was my fault, all of it. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that he shouldn't have to see me like this, broken and confused.
Leaving may be the only way to protect us both.
***
“Did you have a fight with your brother?" Ben's question caught me off guard, his eyes searching mine for an answer.
I blinked, feeling a wave of confusion wash over me. Why was he bringing this up?
“Uh… no, sir, we didn't have any fights," I started, but my voice faltered. “It's just…" The words stuck in my throat, and I trailed off, unable to finish. My discomfort with the subject was painfully obvious, and I could feel the tension rising between us as the silence stretched on.
I shifted awkwardly, hoping he wouldn't press further, unsure if I even wanted to share the truth—if I could share it.
“It's okay, I understand how hard it is to tell such a problem, especially when it involves someone so dear to you." Ben's voice was calm, reassuring. “But I'm always here to lend an ear if you want."
“Thank you, sir," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. “You are too kind."
He laughed out loud at that: “Nonsense. I really do care about you." Then he paused, as if struck by an idea. “Hold on a moment," he said, disappearing into the back room.
I heard shuffling noises, maybe even a faint melody, though I couldn't be so sure. A minute later, he returned with a grin, holding something behind his back. “Close your eyes," he instructed, and I reluctantly obeyed. A cool, smooth object touched my palm, sending a tingling sensation up my fingers. Curiosity got the best of me, and I peeked just enough to see the glimmer of a crystal glass bead resting in my hand. My spirits lifted up instantly, like a weight had been eased.
“Feels nice, doesn't it?" he asked, his grin still there, soft and knowing.
“I… thank you, sir. It's beautiful," I stammered, then hesitated. “But I don't really understand—"
He interrupted with a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Take it. And in return, I want you to promise me something."
I froze, feeling a strange tension settle between us. “What do you mean?"
“If you ever find yourself in a rough situation… remember, it's okay to leave."
I blinked, caught off guard. How could he possibly know?
Ben's expression softened upon watching my reaction, as if he could read my mind. “You've worked there for as long as I can remember. But..." He paused, letting the silence fill the room. “Promise me you'll come back when you're ready."
His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken understanding. “Does that mean…?" My voice trailed off, still reeling from the implication.
“Just consider it, all right?" he replied, his tone calm yet weighted.
The room seemed to shift, the air suddenly thick with something unsaid, something I wasn't quite ready to face.
***
I turned the glass bead over in my palm, feeling the cool, smooth surface press against my fur. The sensation was oddly soothing, grounding, as if it were drawing me into a calmer state with every touch. I couldn't help but trace my fingers along its polished surface, mesmerized by the way it seemed to absorb and reflect the light around it. Somehow, this small, simple object felt like an anchor—a quiet reminder that someone cared, that I wasn't alone.
But…
“What should I do?"
My thoughts spun wildly, drifting through countless possibilities, each one raising a new question, a new 'what if.' What do I want? I sifted through each scenario, searching for an answer, something solid I could cling to. But even if I found it—would Larke ever accept it? Accept me?
“...it's okay to leave."
Ben's words echoed in my mind, calm and simple. How could he say something like that so easily? I could barely breathe at the thought of leaving. I… still wanted to be with Larke, even in this broken state. My heart ached with the weight of it, torn between staying and the urge to flee. But one truth cut through it all—I wasn't ready to let go, not yet."
***
I thought I'd finally found my true voice, something real and unshakable. But reality had other plans—it hit me hard, knocking the confidence right out of me. Every time I ran into him, the tension between us grew sharper, almost suffocating. I couldn't help but pull further away, finding new excuses to avoid him at every turn.
It didn't help that Larke and Jean had become even bolder in our home, their closeness unfolding right before my eyes. I could only watch from a distance, dread creeping over me with every glance. How much longer can I keep this up before everything shatters?
***
Another day, another week, another encounter, during the day, during the lunch, during the sleepless night. My hope, my heart, broken, shattered. Me, him.
He laughed, and I cried. He grinned, and I grimaced. He talked, and I screamed. He looked straight into me, while I looked back to the past. And finally…
“If you hate me that much… Please, just leave."
My vision broke.
“It pains me so much."
His words hit me like a stone hurled straight at my chest, sharp and unyielding, cutting right through me.
“I don't know why, but… please."
It's all my fault.
My vision completely shattered.
Ah.
Right.
I understand it now.
I understand everything now. Clear as ever.
It's not completely your fault, Torku.
It's my fault too.
…