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Amelia was weird.
Because when she saw me, she smiled.
"Hello, Zelgadis. Did you sleep well?"
"With Lina in the next room? I wish!" I replied.
A quiet ‘Careful there, Zelgadis’ came from a distance. And I groaned. The princess smiled. That smile again. It wasn't sharp or malicious. It wasn't the nervous kind either. What the heck was it?
Amelia was also strange because she rarely got angry. Still, I was wary of her. "Doesn't it bother you?" I'd ask when Lina was mean to her. "You don't have to do it if you don’t want to, you know that, right?" But she just smiled and nodded. She was weird.
Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t… complaining. I liked spending time with her. I enjoyed hearing her talk about her favorite romance novels and, while I rolled my eyes, I sometimes enjoyed her justice speeches. Only sometimes, mind you.
To be honest, I think I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I was waiting to see when she'd snap, when she'd stop with the smiles, with that all ‘pretending to care’ act. In short: I was waiting for her to tell me to get lost.
But I waited and waited. And, still, I wait.
Because that moment never came. Instead, came the touches. Sometimes, her body would lean closer to mine at the campfire. Others, she’d search for me with her eyes. And she'd smile. Not at Gourry or Lina. At me. I didn't understand.
Then came the kisses on the cheek, the hugs. She talked more and more about justice. She told me about Gracia and about Eldoran too, about her childhood.
And, fuck, I even found myself smiling along. Asking her questions. Telling her about Rodimus and Zolf, about my parents, about what happened so many years ago. Telling her about Rezo,
I hate to admit it, but I became addicted to that smile. To that small scar on her eyebrow. To her touch.
Each day, there was more and more friction. More talking, more kisses. More afternoons together, just the two of us. I didn't quite understand it. But... ah, there it was again: that smile.
Of course, there were also fights, times when she went too far or those in which I was too rude. Times when we didn't speak the same language. In those moments…I braced myself. I expected shouting and mean words. The ‘I don't want to see you again’ or the ‘Why are you like this?’ Yet, they never came.
After a fight, one of us would mumble, ‘I'm sorry,’ and the other ‘Me too’. One would say ‘I won't do it again’, and in response, she would give me the space I needed. Or I would smile at her and hold her close.
I never saw disgust on her face. Not once. I didn't understand. She never snapped and that… scared me to death. Because it was going to come, right? It always, always, came. Masks fell away, and people left me. That was just how it goes.
So one morning, I plucked up my courage and said, "When do you want me to leave?"
"What?"
"You never tell me I bother you, or ask me when I have time to leave."
"Why would I? You don't bother me."
"You're weird."
She raised her huge blue eyes.
"Why?" she asked.
I shrugged. "Because you don't try to change me. You don't mind my presence, or ask me to cover my face."
There it was again, that smile.
"Why?" I asked. I didn't understand.
Then a sad wrinkle appeared by her eye, next to that one scar her eyebrow. She gently kissed my collarbone, then my neck, my cheek, my nose.
"Because I love you," she said against my blue skin.
"Why?" I repeated again.
"What do you mean, why?" She laughed. "Because you're smart and you get me. Because you don't ask me to change or wear dresses either. Because… you see me as Amelia before a princess. Because you are patient, kind, and sweet.”
I felt a knot in my stomach. She was lying. Maybe she got it all wrong? All I knew was that I wasn't sweet or good. I was selfish, horrible, and... But then I looked at her and I knew she wasn't lying. Had I unintentionally deceived her?
She wasn’t done talking.
"Because I love the sound of your voice. The face you make when you finally figure something out, and even that silly song you play when you’re sad."
She continued, she kept going on. Doubt gave way to affection and sorrow. From sorrow went to confusion and then, to fear.
But she continued, and I trembled. Is this what it felt like? Is this what they call affection? I didn't know. I had no reference points! And, again, I felt scared.
But that fear, she gradually unraveled with kisses, and words.
‘I like you just the way you are’, she said.
‘You don't have to change’, she repeated.
‘I love you.’
"I love you too," I found myself mumbling one day.
Part of me wasn't sure. How could I be? I had no books, no similar experiences either, and yet...
I saw that scar on her eyebrow and smiled.
"I love you too," I said. And I repeated it again and again. Through the days we were together, the months, the year.