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He's been smoking more than usual lately.
And not just weed; cigarettes, too. Every day for the past week he's had to sneak out past curfew, half hidden in the muddy shrubbery, the orange ember glowing in the dark, smaller and smaller till it fizzles out with the ashes in the moss by his feet.
Sky hasn't picked up on it. Riven doesn't blame the guy. Even the most emotionally well-adjusted student would have trouble reconciling their once-hero father, with the manic, lying warlord who's now co-running the school.
He takes another drag and holds it in his lungs for as long as he can, before he blows it out into the cool, crisp dawn.
It's been one week.
One week since Andreas had wrangled all the specialists and fairies out on the training fields and boasted his new school curriculum, Rosalind absurdly pleased at his side, that the fairies would now be given fighting-training.
There was a war coming, apparently. And if there isn’t, Riven's fairly certain Andreas plans on starting one.
He hadn't cared originally. Though, of course, one tiny, traitorous part of his mind had lit up as he'd imagined Musa's reaction. She must have been there, somewhere, in the crowd with all her friends. Listening to Andreas. She's wanted training since enrolment, and a part of Riven had been pleased she'd get it.
And then Andreas had continued. The male-student body would take first turn at training this term, and the female students after winter break. And there were pairs.
A hushed murmur had hovered over the courtyard, and Riven had rolled his eyes. He didn't care who he was paired with, didn't give a shit and then-
"Riven, you'll be with Sam Harvey."
And now here he is, smoking in the face of the dawning sun, and wondering how many strikes Andreas will give him. Riven has the sneaking suspicion he won't be as lenient as Sivla, who was already a bit of a hard-ass. Skipping out on the class is probably out of the question.
Sam fucking Harvey. Maybe, once upon a time, Riven might've felt sorry for the guy: having fucking Terra as a sister, but not now. He hates Sam, hates him so much that-
"Riven?" comes a voice, and Riven jumps, turning to see Musa. She's got a curiously quirked eyebrow and she's holding a towel. "What are you doing up so early?"
He drops his cigarette into the moss and crushes it with the heel of his boot. He steps out of the shrubbery onto the path with her, and wonders if it's a coincidence that the sun breaks free of the cloud-line as she smiles up at him. "Escaping Sky's snoring." He says, and she laughs.
"You need to invest in better head phones. I can recommend about a million?"
"You'd need them even without your powers." He points out, "to block out Terra's mile-a-minute spiel."
"Hey, no bad-mouthing." She warns, but her tone is light, and Riven risks a small smile.
"What about you, then?"
She pats the towel tucked under her arm. "Aisha forgot it. She's out on her morning swim at the Lake."
His chest feels tight. He wants to say shall I walk with you? but the words feel wrong. He wouldn't say them right. He should nod his head, duck away, and end the conversation casually. He's about to, when she says-
"Wanna walk with me?"
God yes. Nearly slips out of his mouth. He catches it on the tip of his tongue just in time, and falls into step beside her. The stones crunch under their feet, and there's not a soul awake yet. Even the birds are silent. It's just the two of them. Riven basks in it. "You must be pretty happy." He says, "specialist training next term? Dream come true."
"It is pretty great." She admits, "but don't tell the others. They're all freaked about Dowling retiring. They think Rosalind's evil."
"You're the mind reader." He points out. "Is she?"
Musa sighs and Riven gets the feeling she's been asked that a lot lately. "People don't think of themselves as evil, so I don't know. She doesn't feel guilty, or nervous, or anything like that. She's happy. Determined to make the school a better place." Musa shrugs. "If something is going on, Bloom will definitely get to the bottom of it. I'll help out then. But I'm not going to go looking for trouble."
"You sound like Aisha."
Musa slaps his arm. "Take that back. I'm a trouble-maker just like you."
He grins at her, and all too soon the lake's in sight, and Riven can make out the silhouette of Aisha's figure coming out of the water. He stops and nods his head at her. "I'll see you around."
She wrinkles her nose. "Are you not gonna have lunch with us later?"
He hasn't had lunch with them at all the past week. He could bear it before, just about. He could try to ignore Sam and Musa sitting beside each other, their secret smiles and texting, but now that Harvey's his sparring partner, now that he'll have to see him all the time-
"I've got plans." He lies, and selfishly relishes in her disappointment.
"Oh. Well, don't have too much fun."
He winks at her, and then turns before he has to see her walk away from him. That, too, is something he can only bear so many times a day.
He's over-sharpened his blades.
The midday sun glints off their razor edges and Riven sheaths them and knows he won't be able to use these until he's up against a real opponent.
Sam walks up their assigned training mat, looking awkward in his new specialist-gear, not knowing quite what to do with his arms, and smiling at Riven in that open, honest, easy way that makes up who he is. "Hey, Riven," he greets, standing on the edge of the mat.
Riven nods at him, examining the school-issued dull blades, and trying not to compare the two of them. But he does. It's easier too, with Harvey decked out in Riven's everyday wear. He viciously pleased to note that he doesn't fill it out as well. He doesn't have the muscles that come only after years of training. His posture isn't as good either. He looks stiff and uncomfortable. Riven fills it out, broad-shoulders and attractive, but Sam looks-
It doesn't matter.
"I gotta say," Sam continues, "I was so relieved when they paired us up. I mean, we know each other, plus, you're like- amazing. I have to apologise in advance for how supremely awful I'm going to be."
At least Harvey has sense enough not to call them 'friends'. Sure. They know each other. That works. Riven gets to his feet and sighs. Might as well get this over with. "You'll be shit at first because it's your first time. It'll get easier." Each word feels like it's being pulled out of him. It dawns on him then that this is only the beginning. He's going to have to talk to Sam all term.
Sam's smile is bright and beaming, and he looks so fucking friendly that Riven hates him even more. "Thanks, man. I hope so!"
Andreas calls the class to start then. Most of the fairies are nervous, shifting their weight awkwardly from side to side as Andreas teaches them the new routines. The Specialists, army-trained, stand stock still: watching and learning. The demonstration is for them, mainly. It's their job to teach their partners.
Sam, true to his word, is supremely awful. Riven barely has to try to pin him, barely has to exert any energy at all. He pulls his punches, slows down his reaction-times, and still, Sam doesn't dodge a single parry, let alone respond.
"You're thinking too much." Riven says, dry as bone, as he hoists Sam up off the mat. Sam's drenched in sweat, breathing hard, face red and splotchy. "Just react instinctively." Riven offers, hating the sight of weakness just a little more than he hates Sam, "Trust your gut."
"Right," he mutters dubiously, "my gut. Sure. Trust my gut."
He doesn't trust his gut. He overthinks and lands on the mat once again.
Riven pinches the bridge of his nose. What a waste of a lesson this is.
The two hours tick by unbearably slowly. Riven's being given too much time to think. Fighting typically distracts him, but this isn't fighting. Sam's pathetic, though Riven will give him credit- he keeps getting back up.
Riven pins him again, a wolf blowing over a straw-house, when someone laughs, and he feels his whole body spark at the sound.
"Wow," calls Musa, climbing onto the grass, her History books held against her chest, "you are shit."
Sam wheezes, so Riven lets him up. "Thank you," Sam rasps, crawling off the mat and splaying out into the grass.
"Aw, who knows?" Musa hums, nudging him with the toe of her boot, "maybe you're perfectly average and Riven's just exceptional?"
Riven smirks, the closest thing he's had to a smile since Sam joined him on the mat this morning, and says: "It's both. He's shit and I'm exceptional."
"Hey," Sam pants, eyes squinting up against the sun, reaching out to curl his hand around Musa's ankle. "Gimme some energy. Please."
Musa laughs, leaning down to ruffle his hair, and Riven turns away. "I could trick your mind into thinking it has more energy, but I don't think your body could take it. Besides," she dumps her books beside him, brushes grass off her knees and turns to Riven expectantly. "Maybe you could do me?"
It's the tagline to every one of his fantasies. It's fucking dangerous, but he can never say no to her. She must see it on his face, because she's tugging off her shoes and her sweater, coming to join him on the mat. "You gonna be as shit as your boyfriend?" He asks, but immediately doubts it, because she gets into a pretty good starting stance and it's more than Harvey's been able to achieve all session.
"Bring it on." She whispers, raising her eyebrows in a challenge, and Riven comes at her.
It's exciting. It's the first show of energy he's had to expel all morning. She's fast. She knows how to use her form and speed. She gets him once, in the back of the knees, but his stumble is all she gets. He gets the stick against her neck, has her back pinned flush to his chest, and their breathing is hard.
"Not bad." He murmurs into her ear, releasing her.
She turns to him, rocking on the heels of her feet. "I cannot wait for next semester."
"Musa!" Sam applauds, now sitting cross-legged on the grass and watching them. "You were so good! Where did you learn that?"
She blushes, and Riven's stomach clenches and he doesn't think he can bear any more of this today. Sam makes her happy. She's happy. He shouldn't be thinking about- about anything like-
He turns and packs up his stuff, as Musa says: "I've been watching the Specialists for years. Riven and Sky, mostly. You're lucky to have him as your partner."
"I know," Sam agrees, and Riven swallows hard. He tries not to picture Musa under the shadow of the fringing willow trees, her hair pulled back, watching him training. It's a strange thing to try and fathom. That perhaps she's been watching him, like he watches her. Neither aware. All this time.
"I'm off." He says, in lieu of goodbye, as class starts to wind down. "I'll see you next session, Harvey. Trust your gut."
Sam waves cheerily, and Musa meets Riven's eyes. She smiles at him: soft and kind, and he doesn't have it in him to smile back.
He leaves the lovers to their sunshine.
Every other day, he and Sam spar in class.
Riven gets used to it quickly. After about two weeks, Sam can manage about twenty-minutes of not getting knocked onto his ass, and it's a small but sure sign of improvement. Andreas isn't very impressed, but he's a tough man to squeeze praise out of.
"About all the personality of a boulder." Sam had muttered under his breath, watching Andreas' retreating back, and Riven had betrayed himself when he'd laughed: surprised and agreeable. Sam had looked surprised too, but he'd smiled, quietly pleased.
The problem with Sam is that it doesn't matter how friendly he is. Riven's always known he was a good guy. He's easy to get along with, he never pries for information or comments on gossip. He shows up every class right on time, listens when Riven gives him instruction and tries- mostly fails- to do each routine. He thanks Riven every time, he's always grinning, he's soft-hearted and organised and it doesn't matter.
Because every day for another two weeks Riven has to have lunch alone. He'll collect what he needs as quickly as possible from the cafeteria, trying to avoid looking at that table. Bloom and Sky, Stella, Terra, Aisha, and then- Sam and Musa. Sky had brought it up when he'd noticed his absence. He'd noticed sooner than Riven thought he would, and Riven had been as honest as he could be when he'd said:
"I see enough of Harvey in training thanks to Rosalind. I don't need anymore fairy time."
"Don't be such a dick, Riven," Sky had sighed, but he'd dropped it just like Riven knew he would.
But he does miss Musa. Maybe even Stella, a little bit. He likes riling her up.
"Hey," Sam says brightly, on a drizzly day, showing up right on time for class. Riven's just arrived himself, and he's warming up for their new routine. "I have something for you."
Riven wants to say there's only one thing you have that I want but he doesn't. Instead, he watches as Sam hands him something small, smooth, black and-
"My vape?"
"Yeah," Sam beams, "I remember you saying Dowling took it, so I slid through the walls of Rosalind's office and she'd dumped all the stuff Dowling confiscated into this drawer. It was easy. I also swiped this." He holds up a handful of tea-lights.
Riven huffs out a reluctant laugh, thumbing the vape he hasn't seen in eight months, and trying not to feel stupidly grateful and touched that Sam remembered what he'd said, ostensibly broken into the headmistresses office to get it back for him. It's the nicest thing anyone's done in a while. "Candles? Very cool."
Sam shrugs, pleased with his stolen treasure regardless, as he tucks them into his backpack. "I was thinking I could set up like a romantic dinner for Musa. Candles are a must."
Instantly, Riven's warmness dies away. He imagines Musa's face lit by candle-light. The intimacy. Sam leaning over a picnic blanket to kiss her-
He shoves the vape into his pocket. "Thanks for the vape. We'd better get started."
He's brutal with Sam that session. He doesn't pull his punches, doesn't offer advise, just takes every opportunity to win in every way that doesn't really matter.
Sam's bruised by the end of it, sore all over, and eager for the bell to ring. "Oh man," he winces, rubbing his back, "you taking out some frustration, huh?"
Riven doesn't even bother to try and deny it. "Rough day."
"Hey, I get it." Sam shrugs off easily, and he's smiling at Riven again. Not angry. Not judgemental. Just stupidly nice.
Fuck, Riven hates him. Hates that he doesn't hate him.
He's a decent guy. He makes Musa happy. That has to be enough.
"Why don't you have lunch with us today?" Sam asks, lacing up his shoes. "Musa misses you."
Immediately, Riven wants to ask how Sam knows. Has Musa said something? What was it? When was it? She misses him. "I..."
Sam looks up at him, before shaking his head and laughing. "You two are so similar, I swear. You just like to brood by yourselves."
Riven smiles tightly. "Nothing better than your own company."
He doesn't have lunch with them. He sneaks out instead, past the barrier, and bites into an apple and imagines a world where Sam Harvey doesn't exist. Then he imagines a world where the two of them are friends, but Musa's with him instead. Then he stops imagining, and just listens to the sounds of the forest. The air is damp and the sky is dark over head. He can hear the wind in the trees. The squirrels running through leaves, the snapping of twigs. He opens his eyes.
"Oops." Musa grins bashfully, "I was trying to scare you."
"You failed." He says, already called to attention, already excited that she's here, with him, outside the barrier. No Harvey in sight. "Spectacularly."
"Whatever," she sighs, coming to perch on the rock beside him. She pulls her knees to her chest and faces him. He stares straight ahead and itches for the cigarette in his pocket. Or even the vape. "I knew you'd be here."
"Stalker."
He catches her smile in his peripheral, and then he decides that he doesn't get to see her like this a lot anymore. Just her. With no Harvey attached to her hip. So he shuffles to face her too, look at her full-on. Her hair's pulled back into two space-buns, and she's got little gold hoops in her ears, and a red jacket on. She's beautiful. As always. "You've been avoiding us."
Riven scoffs. "Don't flatter yourself. I've just had enough of Terra this month. There's only so much annoying I can take."
She nudges his thigh with her foot. "You've been avoiding me." She says, more quietly, and her eyes flicker down to the dead leaves.
He swallows hard and shakes his head. "I just like my privacy." He says, tapping his head.
She frowns. "I wouldn't read you, Riven. I promised I-"
"You can't control it though, can you?" He presses, trying to ignore the hurt that flashes over her face. He's not handled this well. He should've said he wasn't avoiding her. But how can he without revealing that he's avoiding them? The two of them, the happy couple-
"What is it you think I'm going to see?" She demands, "what are you so afraid of me knowing? Don't you trust me?" She reaches out to touch his wrist and he yanks his arm away from her. Her touch burns him. She burns him.
"Why are you even out here?" He spits, "shouldn't you be with your boyfriend?"
She looks lost. "Riven, I want to make sure you're okay-"
"Well, that's not your job. We're not friends. I don't need you to look out for me. I don't need you to think about me at all."
She doesn't speak. He can feel the ground under his feet. He can hear birds singing to each other. He wishes she wasn't here. He wishes he could kiss her. He wishes she loved him. He wishes she'd say something. Anything.
She unfolds herself and gets to her feet. Her voice is quiet and calm and he listens to every single word when she says: "You're clearly going through something, Riven, and you don't want to tell me what it is. And that's fine. I respect that. I just don't like seeing you push everyone away. I guess I was wrong, but I thought we were friends. Maybe I shouldn't care about you, but I do. People do care about you. I know you can be a good guy. I've seen you be a good guy. So I know when you're being as dickish as you are now, there's a reason." She sighs. "I'm your friend, and whenever you do want to talk about this, I'll be here. You can't just push me away. I'm more stubborn than you when I want to be."
I love you. He wants to say. You've made me a better person. But he's can't bring himself to say it aloud. Can't bring himself to deal with the aftermath and all it's gore. He hates that he likes Sam. Hates that Sam makes Musa happy. Hates that he can see these two people who are clearly made for one another. "Musa." He says instead, voice thick.
It's all he needs to say, apparently. But she's always read him better than most. She comes over to him and hugs him. Her arms around his neck, her face in his chest, and he leans down to hold her tight. She smells like the barrier and the forest.
"I'm here," she whispers to him, and he fists his hands into her red jacket and wishes she'd said:
I'm yours.
He can't keep it up. He'd always known that.
It comes to a head at a party. He's drunk, but not drunk enough, and he's lashing out at anyone and everyone, and the looks he's getting are of horror and disgust, and he hates everyone and-
Sam is there, an arm under his shoulders, guiding him back to the school. "It's alright," Sam is saying, voice cool and calm like always. How is he so calm all the time? He's unruffable. He's infuriatingly good natured. He's so even-fucking-tempered.
His head throbs once they get back to the dorm. Sam disappears into the wall (which looks so freaky when you're drunk, it's like he's a ghost) before he's back with a full-glass of water, and he watches Riven drain the whole thing.
Riven expects him to leave, but Sam props him up, and then takes a seat in the desk chair. He's lanky, and his limbs don't quite fit, so he's sprawled out, hands folded on his stomach, looking quite at home.
"You can go now." Riven spits bitterly, imagining Musa back at the party. He hadn't seen her there, and he'd been looking-
"I'd rather make sure you didn't choke on your own vomit." Sam says lightly. "Besides, I was going to leave anyway."
"What about Musa?"
Sam looks at him strangely. "She wasn't feeling up to it tonight. I was only there because Sky texted me." His words come out more carefully now. "He was worried about you, Riven."
"He can fuck off." Riven mutters, leaning over to his nightstand and rifling through the top drawer for something, anything to eat. He's starving. He hasn't eaten all day, couldn't bring himself to go into the canteen at lunch. He finds a half-tube of smarties, and he knocks them back like a shot.
Sam gets to his feet and disappears through the wall again.
When he comes back, he's got a plate with a cheese sandwich.
"Piss off." Riven mutters, even as he takes it and tears off a massive bite.
Sam's face is a horrible mix of concern and sympathy. Riven hates being on the receiving end of faces like that. He's always hated it. He's spent his whole life turning faces like that into looks of disgust and annoyance. He'd rather people thought he was a jerk than someone who needed pity. He doesn't need anyone's pity. He doesn't need anyone's help.
"You can stop looking at me like that." He says, swallowing the last bite.
Sam shrugs. "You could tell me what's been bothering you. I won't judge you, Riven, I promise."
Jesus. How is he so nice? How is he so genuine? What kind of family raised him like this? What kind of loving parents and well-adjusted household created this shit-head of a human being?
Riven feels tears prick in his eyes as he tosses the empty plate onto the mattress beside him. "Fuck." He says, grinding the heel of his hands into his eyes. "Fuck. I'm in love with your girlfriend."
There. He's said it. It's out there, in the world. It's real. His heart, it does exist, and now he's borne it.
There's a long, horrible, cold silence. It's sobering. Riven's never felt more sober in his life. He looks at Sam, who's sitting in a chair that's too small, in a flannel shirt and graphic tee for some band Riven doesn't know. Fuck. Oh god. Why isn't he speaking? Riven wants to throw up.
Sam's processing. He must be. Thinking. Playing back every interaction he's seen between the two of them. Riven's never been as subtle as he should have with his flirting. But he hadn't needed to be, it's so much a part of him, but looking back, it must seem damning. All the evidence.
Sam's the only person here. He's never done a damn thing to Riven, not ever.
"I'm sorry." He adds, and he means it as much as he can. He isn't sorry he loves her, but he's sorry it's come to this. That they're here. Somehow.
"You don't need to be sorry." Sam says finally, after what feels like a lifetime. And his words are slow, and careful. His voice modified and judgement-free. He's leaning forward now, his elbows on his knees, his face serious and intense. "It's not like you can control who you have feelings for."
Riven stares at him. Waits for something more, but nothing comes. Just more, horrible silence. "No way." He mutters, "I call fucking bullshit on that. You can't be that calm. You can't still be this calm. I just told you I fucking love your girlfriend! Fucking react!"
Sam's voice is mild. "I'm not sure what you want me to say."
Riven gets to his feet, falling into anger and yelling, "I want you to- I want you to yell! I want you to punch me, if you've even got that in you. I want you to hate me, or- or something! Do something!"
Sam looks up at him, and Riven sees the difference between them with startlingly, heart-wrenching clarity. Sam sits, calm and waiting, where's Riven's fury has knocked him to his feet, ready and hungry for violence.
With extreme effort, Riven sits back down. He breathes in deep. And out. And in. The anger fades and his eyes are wet again, and he doesn't want Harvey to see him cry. "Say something." He beseeches, voice cracking, and Sam meets his eyes.
"I'm struggling." He admits, and it's something real that Riven can cling to, the ache in his voice. "You love her. I...she's my girlfriend, Riven. I love her. I want to be with her. I don't want you to tell her how you feel because what if she chooses you? And I know, I know, she should have the right to make that choice, and she should be given all the information, but I don't want to lose her." He swallows hard, and he's got that determined look in his eye. That gleam that Riven's seen before. Each time Sam pulled himself up off the mat. Got ready to be hit, time and time again. His fight.
Riven's floored by his honesty. "I..." Sam is kinder than Riven deserves. Musa is more than what Riven deserves. "I'm not going to tell her." He says finally. And his heart breaks a little, because he'd thought maybe someday that he would. "So you don't have to- it's...I won't."
Sam nods, but he's not looking at Riven anymore.
"For what it's worth," Riven adds quietly, "even if I did tell her, she wouldn't pick me over you, so you don't have to worry about that. You can sleep easy." He laughs, humourless and ugly, "I won't be stealing your girl tonight."
Sam gets to his feet, and still won't look at him. "I want you to be happy, Riven." He says, "just not with her. And I- I don't want to be a dick, or- the bad guy, because I can see how much this is hurting you. And you will find happiness. Trust me, you will. With someone else."
Riven's not sure who Sam's meant to be reassuring.
Riven feels alone, and he already knows the answer when he says: "You're not gonna invite me to lunch anymore, are you?"
Sam closes his eyes, and his voice is gentle: "...I don't think that would be such a good idea."
"Right." Like he thought. But then Sam steps towards him, and places a hand on his shoulder.
"But once those feelings go away, everything's going to be alright again. Everything will be better."
He's so fucking hopeful, Riven doesn't have the heart to tell him that he's not sure the feelings will ever go.
But maybe that doesn't matter. Maybe, with more time, he'll be able to numb himself to them. He'll be numb to the way her smile makes him smile. Or how her laugh makes him laugh. Maybe, over time, seeing them kiss won't feel like the sharpest blade lodging into his chest. Maybe, one day, he'll watch Sam propose and he won't feel his heart shatter like glass.
Maybe. One day.
He doubts it.
He has a new fairy partner the next day.
Edmund, who's a little-overweight, but knows how to use it to his advantage so they manage some actual sparring, is his new partner. Riven wonders how that conversation went. He can't imagine Andreas agreeing to whatever Sam had proposed, and yet it's all arranged, so it must have happened.
Sam's way over on the other end of the training field, paired with Sky, so it's- whatever. At least Riven can distract himself with proper fighting, finally. Can lose himself in each thrust and blow. He fights Edmund, and then two days later, he fights Edmund again.
Everything feels hollow. He sneaks out at dawn, spends his money on weed, and goes out every night to whatever party is on. The music's always too loud, but the stimulation helps fill in the hours until morning and he has to do it all again without her. Live. Cope. Exist.
He meets a girl, and she's a little too tall, but she has dark hair and pigtails and with the alcohol, it's close enough.
They go back to her room and she's moaning, and Riven arrives with a low grunt, and the name on his lips is "Musa."
The girl underneath him scoffs in disbelief. "It's Melody." She corrects primly, like she hadn't just ridden him on her best-friends bed. She shoves him off of her, and he reaches for his t-shirt, eager to leave.
"Melody." He says reflexively, but he couldn't give less of a fuck what her name is. He'd said Musa. He'd said Musa. This isn't going away. This isn't going to go away.
He heads back out, finds another party. It's a bonfire, and the air is fucking cold at this time of night. The stars glitter above them, as the smoke billows up into it. Escaping away into the wide, free night. There are more familiar faces at this party. He sees a flash of Stella's blonde hair, and someone who looks a little like Aisha, so maybe she's here, maybe she's here-
He hasn't seen her in weeks. He's fairly certain Sam hadn't said anything, but the whole group's avoided him since whatever went down at the party. What he'd wanted to happen has happened. His plan has worked. They must all hate him now. Sky comes into the dorm after Riven's asleep, and Riven's gone before Sky wakes up. They share a space, but not their days. Not anymore.
Maybe she's here.
He wades through the throngs of dancers, hears the crackle and spitting of the raging fire, when he sees her.
After so long without her, she's like a flood of water in the dessert. It hurts, it stings, but he wants to drown in her.
And then he takes in the scene around her. She's smiling, a little mean, up at some fairy he doesn't recognise. "I'm not interested." She says, voice hard, turning away. He could pick her voice out of a crowd of screaming people.
The fairy has jet-black hair, and a cocky smirk on his face. He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her in. "How do you know that? You haven't even-"
"Get off me." She hisses, shoving his chest hard. They guy stumbles back, and Riven's well-versed enough with anger to know where this is going but then- Sam is there.
He's stern-faced, protective, stepping in front of Musa and looking up at the guy bravely. "Hey." He says, "get away from her."
"What are you, her boyfriend?" The guy laughs, and Sam glowers up at him. He sighs. "Whatever. Have her. Fucking prude."
And then he's leaving, and Riven could kill. That's it? That's all Sam will do? It's not enough.
Riven storms over, catches the guy's sleeve to pull him back, and punches him as hard as he can. The fairy's nose breaks with a crunch, and Riven goes down with him, punching him again and again until someone pulls him off, and it's-
Sky.
"Jesus, Riven! Stop!" Sky yells, and Riven's knuckles are bloodied, and people are looking at him, but through the flames of the fire he sees Musa and Sam. She's staring right back at him, her eyes wide and awed, and Sam is holding her tight, and his face says it all.
Riven's over-shown his hand.
Sky is holding his face, looking into his eyes. "How drunk are you?" Sky demands, even though Riven hasn't touched a drop all night. "This has got to stop, Riven. Okay?"
But Sky isn't yelling. And Riven doesn't understand why until he realises that Bloom is there too, and that Riven's face is wet with tears.
They take him back to the Suite, the two of them. The golden couple. Bloom holds his hands in hers and her flames touch his knuckles and lightly scorch his wounds. Sky rubs his back and hands him tissues. He's grateful the others aren't there. He wonders why they're being so nice to him.
"I love her." He whispers, and they don't know who he's talking about, but they try to comfort him all the same. It doesn't really work.
Sky takes him back to their room, and it's weird, the two of them falling asleep at the same time, but Riven doesn't feel so alone listening to Sky's breathing slow and even out.
In the morning, they get breakfast together. Riven eats his runny eggs, mops them up with toast, and laughs when Sky drops yolk all over his pants. Sky laughs too, and Riven thinks, maybe, maybe, there's something left to salvage.
It's difficult. He works on it over the next few days. He has breakfast with Sky every day. Greets Bloom in the hallways. Is as pleasant as he can be to Terra when he sees her.
But he doesn't have lunch with them. He steers clear of Musa and Sam. He doesn't look for her in assemblies. Doesn't watch when she comes to see Sam at the end of training lessons.
He still dreams about her, but he can't police himself on that. He still smokes, like now, out past the barrier in the pouring rain, poorly sheltered by leafy trees. It's a weakness he has. He has a few of those.
"You're avoiding me."
She makes him jump, that time. He slips off the rock, and stares up at her. Fuck. She's there. In the pouring rain. With him, outside the barrier, and for a bizarre moment he wonders if he's fallen asleep and he's dreaming. But no. Because he never does her justice in his head. Her pigtails are dripping water, her clothes cling to her skin, and there's heartbreak in her eyes.
She can't be here. He can't be here. He loves her, and he wants her more than he wants anything else-
He turns and walks away.
She runs after him. "Riven!" She cries over the rain, "Riven, stop it! Stop avoiding me, just talk to me! You won't talk to me-"
She grabs his sleeve, and he whirls on her and he can't take it anymore. "Stay the fuck away from me!" He screams, rainwater in his eyes and streaming down his face. Down his clothes and into his shoes. "Stay away from me, Musa, and I'll stay away from you. Can we do that?"
She falters, and the hurt in her eyes is there only for an instant, before it's replaced by that fucking insatiable stubbornness. "I don't understand why-"
"Because I'm in love with you!" It comes out, over the rain, and he fucking loves her and it's tearing him apart. "I think about you all the fucking time, Musa. I can't get you out of my head, I love you. I'm in love with you. Every time I see you, I can't think. I can't function. Stay away from me, or I'll end up doing something I'll never be able to take back. Stay away from me please. Or I'll never manage it. I'll never get over you." He grabs her arms, tears mixing with the rain. "Please."
Her chest heaves, her lashes are thick, and there's rain drops on her lips he wants to taste.
And it's the end. It's all over. And he can't help himself, not anymore. He should be allowed this. This one thing. He's been tortured enough to deserve one moment of paradise.
He leans down, barely touching, and brushes his lips with hers.
It's too much. It's not enough. He pulls away from her and storms off into the rain.
He doesn't dare look back, because he knows. He knows she's still stood there, staring after him, a small dark figure in the torrent.
He can taste the rain and her lips for days afterwards.
He's sick with want, dizzy with desire, and he knows something's shifted when he sees Sam on the way to class.
Sam's sunken and pale, there's no skip in his step. Something's happened.
Riven's heart leaps in his throat, but it can't be what he thinks.
He lets himself hope, anyway. Hope is fucking dangerous and he doesn't know why or how human beings have the capability for it, but he hopes. He imagines Musa in his head. She says she's sorry, and Sam will look at her and say: "You love him." And the him is Riven, and Musa will love him. Maybe Sam will go on to plead with her. Or maybe, most likely, he'll accept it with sadness and supreme grace. Maybe he'll cry and say I thought it was my love story, but it turns out I was just in the way- and Musa will comfort him and tell him that's not true.
She'll tell him she loves him, take his face in her hands, and insist that Sam was not just a stepping stone, but someone she loves. Someone who made her happy. But that what she feels for Riven is something else. Maybe they'd hugged, and promised to be friends, and knowing the two of them, Riven doesn't doubt they will be.
Musa will feel the bittersweet tang of loss. Sam will be down-trodden and grieved, but they'll both heal. There'll be the fresh, salt-water smell of possibility in the air.
Riven lets himself dream.
It's snowing outside, and the term comes to an end. The male fairies have learnt what they've learnt, and after Christmas break, the female fairies will take over.
Riven crunches over snow and heads for the forest. He keeps seeing Sam's face in his head: sad, accepting, moving forward.
When he gets to his spot, past the barrier, his favourite stone is covered with fluffy white snow-
and the girl he loves.
She smiles at him, and her eyes are red, and he wants to kiss the snow from her hair.
He doesn't get the chance, because she runs to him, and kisses him. Everything falls away. Everything feels right. Nothing is insurmountable. There's only her in his arms and a broken heart healed after so long.
"You ended it with Sam." He breathes when they pull apart. Not far though- he keeps her in his arms. He'll always keep her in his arms.
She nods. "How did you know?"
"You're not the cheating type." He says, a little wistfully, because there was so long when he'd almost wished she were, just so he could have a chance. Snowflakes catch on her eyelashes, so he strokes them away with the pad of his thumb. Holding her is like holding something perfect, and he's half-petrified she'll disappear and melt away from him. "You picked me." He whispers, and it's unfathomable. All consuming.
Her voice is a whisper over the white snow. A phrase he'll hear over and over in his mind, in his darkest moments, in the lonely hours of the night, the new tagline to every once-fantasy, now reality, he'll hear her say: "I will always pick you, Riven."
"I love you." He says, kissing her again, and he can taste the snow, and her smile, and the fresh, salt-water of possibility.