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Silence is a thing to be treasured when you call the eccentric city of New Eridu your home. Up high, on one of the top floors of their apartment building, Hugo and Vivian spend most nights together in a peaceful kind of quiet - a rare break from their otherwise hectic day-to-day life. They’d try some new brand of tea Vivian found in a quaint, little shop located in a forgotten corner of Janus Quarter or the two of them would peruse the Inter-Knot for new art pieces to decorate their home with.
Tonight’s atmosphere, however, is nearly as oppressive as the bustling streets below, the words left unsaid between them loud enough to make his already sensitive ears buzz.
Vivian sits in her usual chair, closeby the glass doors leading out onto the balcony. It’s because of her little corner filled with flowers, she’d told him when he asked - this particular seat allows her to bask in the scent of clematis and lavender she’d so painstakingly cultivated. Hugo had smiled then, and playfully ruffled her hair as he made a mental note to always leave that particular spot vacant, just in case.
Now, he subtly glances at Vivian from over the rim of his mug; notes the tense grip she has on her own tea, the downturn of her lips and the slight furrow between her brows. His gaze on her seemingly goes unnoticed, despite her usual perceptiveness.
Hugo sets his mug down on the coffee table separating them with a soft clink , startling Vivian out of the stupor she’d begun to think herself in. Her eyes dart over to his and then back down to her own lap, avoidant and clumsy. It only works to highlight how young she is compared to him, still so unsure - almost delicate, in a way.
Much to his own chagrin, it makes him miss Lycaon and the ease of their communication, something that took them years to build up. Even their messy fallout didn’t completely sever the threads woven between them, made evident by the success of their latest mission together.
He waits for Vivian to acknowledge him, internally debating on how to start. When she sets down her own tea at last, he speaks, uncharacteristically hesitant, “Vivian, I-”
“Lord Phaethon went to Lumina Square today,” Vivian cuts in, surprising Hugo back into silence. “both of them - I followed them to that milk tea store.”
Her speech is lacking it’s usual enthusiasm when the topic concerns her favourite idols, sounding rather despondent instead. It’s unnerving, and so much like that little girl he’d found scrounging for food amongst his trash. Hugo’s heart stutters in his chest.
“I wrote down their orders, just in case they ever ask me to bring them some,” Vivian continues, uncaring of Hugo’s pinched expression. “I hope they’ll ask me sometime…”
Her words trail off into an awkward pause, her hands fidgeting in her lap now that she no longer has a warm mug to busy them with. Hugo let’s the lull stretch on before attempting to get a word in himself once more, “While I usually enjoy hearing about your day, I wanted to talk about-”
“Do you think they’ll ever ask me to bring them milk tea? Belle did take me to the flower shop a few days ago,” Vivian continues on, words sounding more and more frantic. “we both got purple themed bouquets.”
“Look-”
“I hope she picked them because of me telling her my favourite colour is-”
“Vivian,” Hugo cuts her off, and her mouth audibly snaps shut. The guilt that wells up at the sight of her panic stricken expression almost makes him falter, but this isn’t something they can let fester. “You’re upset at me, aren’t you?”
She looks absolutely crestfallen as she responds, “Yes, but…” She bites at her lip as her frame starts to tremble slightly.
“It’s okay, Vivian, don’t blame yourself for the way you feel,” his expression softens when her glassy eyes meet his. “I was gone for several weeks, after all. It’s as you said - you mourned me, did you not?”
She slumps in her seat, letting slip a meek sniffle she had tried to suppress. “I did, I thought you were…” she pauses, hesitating. “You threatened Lord Phaethon, I-I didn’t know what to do. They allowed me to stay with them for as long as I wanted, but I had to come back here, in case you…”
“Hm, well, they do say that denial is the first stage of grief.” Hugo says with a wry smile.
“D-don’t joke like that,” Vivian nearly sobs. “I believed it to be another one of your stupid plans at first, but after the second week I started to think you’d really died.”
The glassiness in her eyes threatens to spill over - the girl whose tears were always said to bring misfortune, now unable to hold them back. Hugo feels a faint welling in his own throat.
“I’m sorry, Vivian.” he says, sincere with no further theatrics or wit.
Wetness streaks down her face, and her hands shoot up to wipe it away - but the dam has broken, and muffled sobs and sniffles quickly follow her tears. Hugo holds open his arms and beckons her over.
“Come here,” he calls, and Vivian immediately stands up on wobbly knees, stumbling into his waiting arms. She nearly knocks over their rapidly cooling tea on the table in her haste. Her crying has turned loud and unrestrained, wetting Hugo’s shirt where she presses her face against him. “My dearest Vivian, I’m so sorry.”
He cards a hand through her hair, allowing her shaking form to cling onto his. “I-I’ve lost s-so much, and I-I thought you also,” a hiccup, muffled against his chest, “I knew, d-deep down that you wouldn’t g-go so easily, but day after d-day you never came back.”
He holds her a little closer, his other hand encircling her waist. “I know, I’m sorry.” his own voice is starting to sound strained, too.
“Why?” Vivian breathes out.
“Would you believe me if I said I did everything with your safety in mind?” he chuckles. “Selfish I may be, but I didn’t want to involve you in plans where I wasn’t certain of the outcome.”
Vivian weakly punches him with balled fists. “You always do that, t-think for me,” she lifts her head, gaze defiant despite the redness staining her eyes and cheeks. “what about what I want ?”
Hugo feels a smile tug at his lips, “Well, I did say I’m selfish,” his hand moves to her messed-up bangs, carefully pushing them to the side. “Besides, Vivian, my dear - did you not nearly get yourself killed as well? I sometimes fear what you’re capable of.”
Her face moves down to hide between the folds of his shirt once more, “I’m sorry.” she mumbles meekly in response.
“No need to feel too sorry now, you did what you felt was necessary in the moment.” After a moment’s thought, he adds. “You were really brave, Vivian.”
They stay in their embrace for a little longer. The silence isn’t quite comfortable, but it’s a far cry from earlier. Vivian’s sniffles and hectic breathing gradually slow down to something more relaxed, her tense body melting slightly against his.
“Why Lycaon?” she whispers a few minutes later.
Hugo barks out a laugh, “You mean why I let him in on my plan?” she nods against him, “Oh Vivian, I don’t think I could’ve hidden this from that old oaf even if I’d tried. I believe he might be my Achilles heel, truly.”
Vivian moves away from him, though she doesn’t quite get up from the couch they’re both on. “I missed you.” she mumbles with her eyes averted.
“I too missed you,” he responds with a soft smile. “What say you to a dinner together? On me, of course.”
She perks up at that, her eyes shining with interest, “Could we go to Waterfall Soup? Lord Phaethon once took me there…”
Hugo cards a gentle hand through her hair one more time. “Anything you want, Vivian.”