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1.
Soft white light flooded the balcony, momentarily pushing back the night before the door closed once again. The woman on the balcony did not turn to meet her new company, waiting to see if they would cross over to her or occupy another spot elsewhere. Footsteps drawing closer gave her her answer.
“Valeria. Out here alone.”
She nodded, though his words were more an observation than question. “Just for a moment. Too many people inside.”
“They are here for you.” Montague sets his glass of wine on the banister next to her own. Dark red and gold white. “To celebrate you and to get to know you.”
To celebrate her achievement anyway. It wasn’t everyday someone rose up to a position of leadership.
“I don’t need the masses to know who I am. Of me, sure, but not-” She shakes her head. He understands. “Tell me about yourself.”
“You already know-”
“I know of you. I don’t know who you are.” Valeria takes her glass in hand, speaking as she raises it to her lips, “As co-leaders now, I think we should know each other, more than just what we show the public.”
Barely promoted and already so assertive. But she had always been headstrong; it was one of the things about her that caught his eye. That and her seemingly endless thirst for knowledge.
“Alright, what do you want to know?”
“What do you do, when you’re not working?”
He laughed, a short chuckle. “You mean my hobbies? I like music; I can play guitar and piano. I solve puzzles, that sort of thing.”
Valeria hums into her wine, sipping on it as he speaks. He plays soft rock and classical, which she somehow expected, and apparently he’s good at chess. She’ll have to put that claim to the test someday. Now it’s her turn to answer, divulging things that were not-so-secret, like her love of reading - especially history and mythology - and her biggest time sink, astronomy.
The ensuing conversation was short but illuminating, and while neither could claim to know the other yet, it was a good start.
“To a long and fruitful partnership.” Montague says, raising his glass. Valeria raises hers to meet his, the sharp clink of a toast breaking through the night.
They each sip on their wine, enjoying serenity. When it seemed they could no longer put off the party, the pair walked in-step towards the building. Montague pauses to pull the door open, inviting Valeria in with his arm. They share a smile, hidden in an instant as they reenter and take their place as leaders of The Society.
2.
The night was cold up in the mountains. A light breeze kept an ever-present chill, yet the temperature was not enough to keep two souls from their plans. The sky was clear tonight, a perfect night for stargazing, Valeria had noted earlier. It was a short hike from the hotel to the peak, the quietness and solitude pushing them away from more comfortable places like the courtyard.
They’d been sitting up here for several hours at this point, the chill starting to seep through the blankets and jackets, driving the pair closer together. By now Valeria had huddled into Montague’s side, his arm around her body, keeping her close.
“There! Do you see that line of eight stars?”
Montague squints, trying to focus on the area of sky Valeria had pointed to. There are a lot of stars out, but he thinks he can see the group she’s pointing at.
“The one with the zigzag?”
She nods, unnecessarily so, as they’re both too focused on the sky. “That’s the constellation ‘Lynx’. It’s easier to spot if you start with the bottom-most star, Alpha Lyncis, since it’s the brightest in the constellation.”
“Why ‘Lynx’?” Montague asks.
“Some will tell you because it follows the spine of a pouncing cat - the bottom forms the tail, and the topmost stars are the head. They would be wrong.” At the last remark, Montague looks at Valeria, finding her smirking. “It actually got its name from the astronomer that found it. He said one would need eyes like a lynx to find it.”
Montague wants to reply, some smart remark on the tip of his tongue, but the words are lost as he looks at her. God, her smile is beautiful. Eyes too, red as rubies, that shone with mirth brighter than the stars she looked at. He’d brave the cold for her any day; wouldn’t bat an eye at the hours of sleep lost looking at the night sky. The time was much better spent listening to Valeria recall an obscure fact or speak at length about her research.
The wind picks up, and he feels her shiver against him, despite the extra layers. As much as he wants this moment to last, for her to continue talking about the stars, it’s late, and they’re both slowly getting colder. Montague hums for her attention, his hand running up and down her arm. His suggestion to head inside is met with a second of weak resistance before Valeria agrees.
At that, he pulls her even closer, placing a kiss upon her temple before lowering his lips to hers. They have only kissed a few times before, but each one is special.
“Tonight was fun,” he says.
Valeria hums in agreement, “You should come out with me again. Each night is different; other constellations will be more visible later in the year.”
“Anytime you wish.”
3.
The day is long, the sun beginning to dip into the mountains and bathing the room in a hazy yellow-orange hue. Nothing pressing had come up, and the matters that did require attention had been dealt with quickly. Today was a day to rest for both of them. Currently, the pair were curled up on a couch, overlooking the balcony on the floor beneath them. Montague rests with an arm between his head and the armrest and a leg touching the ground. Valeria lays against him, her legs taking up the remaining free space of the couch. She had a book in her hands, one she’d read before, but an interesting read that Montague tried to follow along with. Emphasis on tried, as she was a faster reader, turning pages before he could finish them.
His other arm curls around her side, supporting her from slipping off. Occasionally his fingers play with the hem of her shirt, just below the spot on her side where she’s ticklish. A dangerous game, but one he happily plays. Valeria deems his hand too close, squirming in his grasp as she swats his hand away. Montague relents, and she turns her head to scowl at him. Before she can return to her book, he leans up, capturing her lips with his. The kiss is short, a quick apology that leaves her smiling.
“I love you.” The words slip out, thought accidentally given voice. The feeling isn’t new; he’s known for some time now, familiarity and comfort lowering his guard. Valeria’s reaction is instant - she sits up, eyes wide and brows arching upwards. Oh, she definitely heard him.
“What!?”
There’s no taking something like that back, no point in pretending it wasn’t said either. He commits, repeats the words purposefully, even though she definitely heard him correctly. How else do you respond to that?
“I... I need to go... I think.” She stammers over her words, leaving far more gracefully than how she spoke. The book is forgotten, hanging precariously on the edge of the couch. Montague has only a few seconds to process what just happened, and he can only come to one conclusion.
He fucked up. Big time.
It is several days before he sees her again. Up until then she’d been completely silent, and he knew better than to reach out before Valeria was ready. Those days were long, hours spent lost in his own head wondering just what he should do. Neither one of them can ignore it; they can’t just go back to the minutes before he’d said those three words. In seconds, he’d changed everything.
When Valeria does reach out to him, it’s a short phone call. She asks him to come to her place to talk about his confession and hangs up shortly after he agrees. The pit in his stomach is more than uncomfortable, and he has to physically stop himself from ruining his hair with worry. Ultimately, there’s nothing he can do now except see how events play out.
She leads him to her study, which is oddly clean, but there’s no time to think about the state of the room when Valeria starts talking - an apology of all things the first words out of her mouth. Montague wants to stop her, give her his own apology, but one look from her and the words die in his throat.
“I’ve spent a lot of time thinking these past few days. I can’t say it... not yet, but you are important to me, and I want to keep spending time together.”
He wants to commit this to memory - the way she smiles, the small stutter of breath as she works through her own nerves. I love you, he thinks, and this time the words remain unspoken. All that matters is that she feels something for him and is keen on pushing farther in the hope that her feelings become clearer.
Montague wraps his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. What he doesn’t say is poured into the gesture, from the way his hands run up and down her back to the slight squeeze of his arms before he pulls away. He’s grateful he hasn’t lost her. He’ll wait however long just to hear her voice those three words.
4.
“Hey, Val?”
Valeria jumped, quickly folding the slip of paper and hiding it in her pocket. She hadn’t heard him approach and prayed that he wasn’t standing directly behind her - hadn’t caught a glimpse of the words she’d been studying. When she turns, it’s with relief as she realizes he’s still on the other side of the room. Valeria quickly wipes at the corner of her eyes, but hardly anything escapes his notice.
“What’s wrong?” Whatever he’d originally come to ask her was forgotten. He crosses the room within seconds, kneeling on the floor next to her. His hands reach for hers, but she pulls away, leaning further into her chair instead. “Valeria...”
She wants to tell him it’s nothing, but that would be wrong. It’s something. More than something. Her face is red; errant tears dried on her cheeks. That slip of paper is like a dagger, stabbing her incessantly, lest she forget its presence. The doubt she clings to lingers only because she has not checked for herself.
He does not say anything further, waiting silently by her side. She knows he’ll go if she asks, but she is not willing to. Maybe it is a blessing that he showed up when he did. Valeria takes a deep breath and reaches for the note, pulling it out of its hiding spot. Montague stares at it, but sits motionless while she toys with the paper. Creasing the creases further, tracing the edges, finally unfolding it to the words scratched in blue ink and offering the page to him.
“Hope is gone.” Her words are so simple, yet speaking them opens the wound anew. “She’s run away.”
Montague gently takes the note from her and spends a minute in silence reading her sister’s words. Hope was an adult. Barely so, but an adult nonetheless. She could do what she wanted, but suddenly cutting contact was something Valeria had never seen coming. Perhaps she was too focused on her own interests to see the signs.
Tears begin pricking in the corners of her eyes before silently slipping down her cheeks. Her throat burns as she tries to keep it together, then she’s being pulled into his warm embrace and a little part of her facade cracks. She does not lose it, but her tears fall freely onto Montague’s jacket, and she clutches him like a lifeline. He does not have any siblings, does not remember the parents he lost so long ago; this is a pain he cannot comprehend, yet he tries. He murmurs into her ear, apologies and sweet nothings and any bit of comfort that comes to mind.
Hope is still alive. She can come back. If not that, she can eventually reconnect. Valeria still has her sister, if at an unknown distance... and she has him. He does not speak that part; his actions serve as his voice instead. It is in the way he kisses her, how he pulls books from higher shelves for her, in the way he watches her when he doesn’t think she’s looking, and when he holds her in his arms like he does now.
And as he listens to her trying to steady her breath, as he feels the pinpricks of tears soak through his coat, a piece of his heart breaks with hers.
5.
“Montague... why are we here?”
He’s brought them to the ruins south of the main train station. They show films here occasionally, but only at night and not today. The sun is beginning to set, but it would still be too early. They’re not here for the ruins either; rather, the cliff next to it overlooking the rivers. It was the first spot she took him for stargazing, before it had become a regular habit for both of them. He felt it was right to return today.
“You remember the night we spent here, staring at the sky?” She nods, though it’s clear she is still confused. “I thought we could spend time looking at a different sky.”
It is not a lie, but he wonders if she can tell he’s omitting something. Montague has been thinking about this ever since he’d picked out a ring, which at this point has been several weeks. It feels much heavier now than when he’d bought it, and he has to consciously stop his hand from reaching into his pocket to toy with the box. It would be a dead giveaway if she noticed.
Valeria is not one for grand gestures; something he’s learned over the years is her preference for quiet companionship, which is another reason he chose this place. It’s quiet; only a couple of souls wandering around the ruins below them. Montague hasn’t prepared anything grand for tonight either - save for that one question. They walk up to the cliff plateau, his hand around her waist keeping her close, stopping several feet from the cliff’s edge. The sky is aglow in hues of orange and red, the clouds a break between the ombre and the last of blue daylight. Colors dance off the water below them, its reflection changing like the sky above it as the sun continues to set. It is beautiful, but not as beautiful as her. The way the light bathes her, it is like she set herself ablaze.
“Valeria, I need to ask you something.” He says, already turning with his hand coming around to grasp hers before dropping it completely. She’s sharp; always has been. Before his knee has even touched the ground, she realizes what’s going on and gasps as he pulls the little black box out of his pocket. His heart is in his throat. For him, time is no longer moving. “Will you marry me?”
She’s both smiling and crying, her hands pushing her hair out of her face and wiping the tears from her eyes. He can’t help but smile, nodding as she asks him if he’s serious. Then she’s crouched on the ground next to him, holding his face as she kisses him. Her nails poke into his cheeks, but he doesn’t care; he’s certain he has his answer. The kiss continues as she rises, pulling him back to his feet with her, and only then does she break the kiss.
“Yes.” She answers, then repeats herself. Valeria lowers her hands from his face, and Montague carefully removes the ring, returning the box to his pocket. He takes her left hand in his, sliding the ring onto her finger, where it will remain for years to come. For a moment she marvels at the ring - a band of silver and gold adorned with small diamonds, a large ruby the centerpiece - then she is on him again, pulling him into a tight hug. “I love you.”
“I love you. So much.” He responds, and when she pulls away a few moments later, he takes the opportunity to kiss her. First on her forehead, then meeting her lips once again. The sky that was once a burning orange now recedes to the dark blue of night, but a few rays of light cling on. Only a few more minutes remain before the sun would be truly set - minutes that Montague and Valeria spend watching the sky, neither willing to let this moment end.