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The tavern would be opening very soon. Ban was adamant on particular spices he requires that nobody else could purchase correctly. Since none of them are as skilled as he is in culinary arts; they had no other option than to listen to whatever he instructed. Ban designated Hawk to accompany him in the nearby village, Diane followed for fresh air with King then dragging along, although he said it was 'to make sure the jerk doesn't do anything stupid.' Gowther also joined them, to 'understand the affection humans embody for edible items.'
As a result, Meliodas and Elizabeth dwell in the bar. She brushes the tables to get rid of persisting stains while Meliodas pretends to be cleaning cups. He's actually staring at her ass, waiting for the princess to stretch to the edge of the table so her skirt will ride up at the back, giving him a perfect view of-
"Sir Meliodas?" Her sweet voice interrupts his fantasies as she annoyingly straightens, cloth in hand, and faces him. Silver hair hangs softly down her back, a bang masks her right eye. Meliodas' theory is that her power activated some point after Zaratras' 'murder'. Before that, when he was her assigned knight, her hair was in its original fringe, covering most of her forehead. Though, he wouldn't question her about it and instead hums in response.
"W-well, I-" he notices how she clutches the cloth a bit tighter, "I have a...question."
He raises an eyebrow slightly, curiosity edging into him as he regards Elizabeth in the middle of his tavern, who waits for an indication to allow her to continue or a sign that he had no time to talk.
Meliodas would always have time for her.
"Yeah, what's up?" he questions, placing the cup he never scrubbed down and leaning his elbows on the counter, his head propping on his palms to offer her his full attention. Would it be about Liones? About the Holy Knights? Could it be about the safety of Britannia-or maybe a general question about the sins? About the demon part of him? He'll have to refrain if it is, anything could trigger memories and, as selfish as it might be, he wants to hold on to Elizabeth for as long as possible. If it's a query he can't answer, hopefully he'll be able to skim past it quickly without-
Her pink lips open and something blurts out of her mouth in a rushed manner, "What does love feel like?"
Oh.
Ohh.
He could not do this.
She peers at him, nibbling on the inside of her cheek. His expression doesn't change, remaining impassive. Not cold, not forlorn. Just...empty.
"Why?" Meliodas inquires, voice even. Surely, their must be a perfectly reasonable answer for this; an exquisite cause as to why she asked.
Elizabeth takes a deep breath, fiddling with the cloth in her hands. "I don't know why, Sir Meliodas. It's such a big thing, isn't it? Sir King is obviously in love with Diane; Sir Ban mentioned a lady called Elaine before-and..." Meliodas could tell that she had no perfectly reasonable answer. It babbled out her mouth with no purpose other than to find something that satisfied the question. "I don't know what it's like," she shrugs, "and I guess I wanted to know."
He nods slowly. "Why me?"
"...Huh?" Elizabeth turns to him, head tilting in a way that's so adorablehewantstocuddleher-
"Why'd you ask me of all people?"
This time, she hesitates, cautiously picking words for her next sentence, "Y-you've experienced it with Miss Liz, right?"
He draws a breath, Elizabeth notices.
"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine!" She hurriedly explains, eyes widening "I-umm- understand it must be hard, so,...sorry..." she trails off, voice quietening with each word and smiles apologetically. Elizabeth ducks her head and spins around to wipe the tables.
Meliodas doesn't move his gaze from the porcelain skin at her back. Did that have to be the question? He would've aimed to answer almost anything else, but this?
Why? Why did fate have to be this cruel? How twisted is the world to do this to him? The person he loves the most; the person worth more than any variety of fucking jewel in the vastness of Britannia; the person he would repeatedly die for over and over, ask him what love is?
How is that fair? Curse the Stupid Deity and his godforsaken father. How could he give her a satisfactory answer? 'Ask Gowther-I'm sure the two of you can figure it out together'? 'Cos no, she deserves a legitimate response.
It's ironic, really. Elizabeth had taught him 3,000 years ago what love was. Each and every time he met her reincarnations, he fell more deeply into the hole, deeper than he could ever have imagined. But the deepness never stopped, like a bottomless pit where he endured to fall in swirls and waves and explosions of love. Sometimes his hearts break because of how much love he holds for her. All seven of them snap when he thinks about their lost memories, their damn curse-the only thing imprisoning them.
True, if they hadn't met those millenniums ago then life would be so much easier; so much less complicated. Meliodas knows it's selfish, but he can't bear to imagine his life without her. He doesn't regret a single thing up until this point. Elizabeth was the person who gave him life, a purpose, a reason to fight. Their love became his oxygen, without it, without her, he'd choke. She's a glittering star in his black void, somehow still shining in the obsidian mess. It's her smile that gives him the fluttery feeling of joy in his stomach. Anything and everything about her completely steals him, makes him whole. She's the fire in his chaotic life, the glowing ember that ignites hope.
How is he supposed to express that? How is he supposed to tell the person he loves more than anything what love feels like? In what way can you place the meaning of such a substantial, over-powering emotion in words?
Meliodas' hearts clench as he views her back, a distant gaze upon his face. Love is millions of things put into one. But what it feels like...?
"I guess it feels different for everybody, " Meliodas starts slowly, already capturing her attention as she turns, he chooses his words carefully, attentive of how much he wants to give away, "For me, i-it's-"
Her silver hair sways and her ocean earing catches the glint of the sun, only making her cerulean eyes dance in the rays. Her expression is confused, surprised at the sudden, unfinished statement from the captain of the Seven Deadly Sins. "Sir Meliodas?" Elizabeth murmurs, eyebrows furrowing a tad and she leans forward lightly, as if reducing the distance between the two of them by less than an inch will help.
It does.
Meliodas urges himself to say something rational before a ludicrous comment can evade his mouth. Glancing at her, though, he's at a loss. Tides of memories and experiences and happiness and melancholia and laughs and trust and-and love crescendo inside, almost consuming him. It's like something floods his body, about to trickle out because it's way too much for him to handle. His hearts pound as he clenches his jaw, demanding the tears to obey him for one goddamn time and not to fall, not right now, not in front of her. All Meliodas needs to do is say one thing. He pleads to sound natural; he begs that his voice doesn't sound as if he's going to crack.
"You. Love feels like you."
He takes verve in the way her face immediately reddens, a pink rushing down to her neck. Elizabeth's eyes are wide, her jaw slacks as she stands remotely still, faintly gripping on the cloth in her hands.
He grins cheekily at her, turning around to distract himself with organizing mugs. Meliodas places a few on higher shelves and settles some down on the counter, all the while making sure to not glance at Elizabeth. He still feels full, and he knows it's a given, she completes him like a puzzle.
Because, to Meliodas, love is simply her.
