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They had argued.
They had argued again.
It wasn’t as they were used to, it wasn’t like one of those days.
It was worse.
After all their ups and downs regarding Riven’s lack of affection, jealousy and bad behaviour Musa had just reached his boundary. The specialist had been furious and aggressive again. And the fairy couldn’t stand it anymore.
Of course Musa did things wrong too. She was pure and altruistic, sometimes even naïve. However, she was also stubborn and arrogant.
This combination had led to one of those fights in which they said hurtful things that eventually, they’d regret.
The difference was that it had been a week, a whole week without contact, seven days in which if they were forced to work together – alongside their teammates – they had ignored each other. Both too stubborn to apologise.
Musa remembered how distant they had been the previous days, all because of him. He was focused on his training, stressed out and pressured, and when they finally met, he had been an asshole, and impulsive and violent asshole who felt jealous of a specialist who followed her the moment she arrived at Red Fountain. It’s true that the guy was annoying, probably a first year's student who didn’t know who she was and just wanted a quick date.
Riven remembered his sleepless nights, the comeback of his nightmares, the ones he was – sadly – used to have from time to time. He was irascible because of that. He hated how his childhood trauma kept chasing him when he – supposedly – have already overcome it. He acted on an instinct when he saw that little first year’s brat who was harassing Musa. It was funny – it wasn’t – how the guy took after Ogron, with that awful red hair. Red, as Nabu’s blood when Ogron killed him.
They fought in the middle of the campus, he beat-up the specialist until Musa stopped him.
Then the shouts and complaints began.
“I’m sick of it Riven!”
Riven was sick of himself too. He was tired of his fucked mind that tricked him at every little moment. That made him drown.
He was also drained, and the gaze Musa gave him was enough for him to leave.
Again.
Musa didn’t follow him back. He dared to leave without an apology nor an explanation.
She left too.
And since then, a week had already gone by.
******
Musa thought it was kind of a joke. Although she wished for it, she didn’t expect Riven’s call at 3:37AM. It was hilarious, the fact that they have been ignoring each other since the fight and it was now, fucking almost 4AM the time he decided to phone. She thought it was a bad joke, a mockery. Therefore, the moment she picked up the phone she started to point out how mad she was.
“What the hell are you doing Riven? You haven’t had the guts to talk to me, not to mention apologise and now you’re bothering me at almost 4AM?! What’s wrong with you? It’s been a week Riven, a fucking week! Needless to say, the asshole you’ve been before that. I’m tired Riven, I’m tired of waiting for things to go better, tired of this deathly routine!” She stopped to catch his breath but the line was silent. That annoyed her even more. “You won’t talk? Fine!”
“Sorry f-for bo-bothering.” Riven stuttered and Musa’s heart stopped for a moment, realising how Riven’s breath was out of track too. She sharpened her acoustic magic and noticed how the phone was unsteady, probably being shaken in Riven’s hands. Then Musa’s heart raced.
It was one of those nights.
******
He didn’t hate being an orphan.
He did hate the nightmares regarding the days he used to escape from the orphanage life and the ones he starved on the streets, stealing, fighting, whatever and whoever he needed to. Even so, he was proud of how strong he was. He never missed neither the parental figures he was supposed to have had nor a family. After all, you can’t lack something you have never had.
However, feeling alone was something he was fed up with.
The scars of his non-idyllic childhood were engraved deep on his mind, taking away nights of sleep. And maybe it was because Nabu’s death anniversary was closer, maybe because of that his nightmares were worse than ever. He reminisced how isolated he had always been, how his friends were no more than his girlfriend’s friends’ boyfriends, how his real best friend was dead and how his girlfriend was sick of him.
Was Musa going to die? He couldn’t help the anguish and anxiety of it. The fear of losing a loved one again. The fear of being completely alone again.
He woke up out of breath, scared and alarmed.
Fortunately, he didn’t remember the details of Musa’s death. The images were blurry enough, but the long red hair stood out.
He suppressed the low gasps as well as the tears as he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop once it started. He didn’t want the other specialists to notice.
With a trembler body he sank to the ground, placing his back on the border of the bed and his knees upon his chest. He embraced himself closely and tried to stabilize his fast and irregular breathing.
He gasped in agony as he felt out of control.
The images of Nabu’s death were mixed up with Musa’s, not being able to identify which ones were fake and which ones were not. He didn’t even know if they were the ones he dreamt of.
The first tear dropped, and he grabbed his phone on an instinct.
His lungs were blocked as he waited for a response and when he finally got it, he felt nothing but regret. She was mad at him, they fought a week ago.
He couldn’t do anything but – trying to – keep breathing as everything around him was covering in blood, in Musa’s blood. Now it wasn’t only his death, there were hundreds of scenarios in which she died in different ways, a few of those were saving him.
He closed his eyes, but the imagens didn’t fade away.
She yelled through the phone and Riven was more confused. Was she alive? Or was his mind tricking him again? His heart was beating fast against his chest and his lungs were unable to catch enough air, making him feel dizzy and exhausted. He felt like he was going to faint, and honestly, he wished to. He didn’t want to feel like this anymore.
“You won’t talk? Fine!” He didn’t even know if it was the real Musa or if it was his mind. However, he replied automatically, hating the feeling of being yelled by the only person he had left.
“Sorry f-for bo-bothering.” He choked out. That was the highest he managed to do before hanging up.
He hid his head on his knees and tried to keep the cries to a minimum, after all, he was used to, it was just one of those nights.
******
Musa reached Riven’s bedroom in the blink of an eye.
Luckily, as they – The Winx – could be requested at any moment (as well as the specialist) Red Fountain had provided them with 3 school’s motorbikes. Moreover, since last year, the specialist squad had been moved to the last floor of Red Fountain which had not only a whole apartment with five individual bedrooms but also a small hangar with two ships on their roof in case they were in a hurry.
It took Musa no more than 3 minutes to arrive at Riven's bedroom balcony. She parked the motorbike and casted a spell on the bedroom in order to soundproof it. Like always.
Riven didn’t react – didn’t realise – until Musa broke his shield of limbs, grabbing his head carefully, separating the bangs that now, due to his sweaty and hair down, were covering his magenta eyes. He was shaking, sobbing, small tremors through all his body, low gasps escaping from his throat while he tried to breathe, unable to slow down his beating chest. They gazed at each other, the fairy noticing how Riven was terrified. The specialist itself, feeling tremendously exposed.
That gaze on Riven’s eyes, the same one she saw when Nabu passed away.
Musa finally found the missing piece of the puzzle.
Like a film, she remembered their previous weeks, the days Riven ignored her and small signals she could have noticed; How his last connections on their chat were at dawn, how the few times they met he seemed exhausted and sleepless. How he was more short-tempered and upset than usual. Yes, Riven hid it, Riven never talked about missing Nabu, about his nightmares – unless Musa experienced them directly – but still, she could have noticed.
“I’m all right,” she said, caressing Riven cheeks.
He broke down.
Riven broke down and tried to hide his head, as he was reaching the highest peak of his attack, his initial sobbing finally being agony cries.
“Breathe with me Riv, I’m here right by your side,” she shed a tear, grabbing Riven’s hands, placing one right upon her heart and the other holding her right hand. “I’m alive.” Riven was an open book to his eyes and she could imagine the awful nightmares he had been having. She tried to stay calm on the outside although she was worried and devastated on the inside. She wished she could erase them.
Riven looked at her with suspicious and swollen eyes, trying to identify if it was the real Musa in front of him. He felt her heartbeat under his hand, a little fast but steady. He also noticed the tender way she was holding his other hand and how she was trying to lead his breath. He focused and tried to follow it.
“You’re doing great,” he closed his eyes again, taking deep breaths. After a while, his tears finally stopped, and his sobbing went back to a volume that wouldn't wake his roommates up if there wasn’t a spell.
He was exhausted and dizzy, but his mind wasn’t totally over yet.
“Are…you…,” his throat was dry and rough, he gulped before speaking again, “real?”
“Yeah, Riv,” a pair of tears escaped from her eyes and she hugged him, not caring about the uncomfortable posture.
He embraced her back and breathed hard. It was Musa’s scent. It was Musa’s body. His long and smooth hair, his milky skin and pink lips, his soft voice and sparkling eyes.
She was real.
“Oh god.” Riven finally managed to distinguish from his twisted imaginations to real life, being aware of the attack he was just overcome, how messy he might look and how his girlfriend was in his bedroom at late 4AM.
They lost track of time. Musa kept hugging Riven’s – still – shaking body, whispering reassurances until she felt his breath completely steady and normal. After a while, she held his face and caressed his checks, looking directly at his sad, teary, magenta eyes which made a downcast combo with the bags under them. For once, Riven didn’t back off, he didn’t say anything either. Instead, he wiped out Musa’s tears with his thumbs.
Musa smiled tenderly.
She helped him to stand up and took away his sweaty and sticky t-shirt just to lay him down in bed afterwards. Musa grabbed a wet towel from the bathroom and cleaned Riven’s upper body and head. He let himself be done, tired and drowsy, as he hadn’t been in weeks.
When Musa finished she cuddled with him, lying on his right side with his left arm stroking his bare chest and head. “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered, kissing his forehead, hoping she could erase the loneliness she knew he was feeling. Riven didn’t answer and Musa thought he might have already fallen asleep.
“Aren’t you sick of…,” he trailed off, “me?”
“this?” Musa said at the same time and both hushed, as they realised each other’s word.
Of course there were issues to talk, problems to fix and things to get better. However, there was no point in throwing it up to each other’s face right now.
“Neither of them.” She replied and didn’t lie. She knew this was a part of Riven’s broken heart, something she wouldn’t be ever able to fix, a scar that wouldn’t heal. But at least, she wanted to go through it with him. No matter what.
It could be worse, better, shorter, longer, more anxious, less intense. It didn’t matter. It was just one of those nights in which Musa would look after Riven’s heart.