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You were good. You believed you were good. Someone to love with all their heart, you believed you could be that person. And you were, for a long while. In love with Clive Rosfield, spending your days fighting alongside him. It wasn’t something to complain about, he’s loving and caring and tended to your needs whenever it was needed. You could take care of yourself of course, but some things were out of your control. So why did it frel like things were drifting now? Why did it feel like that spark wasn’t there anymore?
Was it because he was away so often? Saving the world? No, that couldn’t be it. You didn’t have a problem with him being a good man, not at all. It was you who was the problem, you who was starting to lose that spark. And you didn’t let it eat you up immediately, trying your best to do things with him. Little moments of love and spending time outside the hideaway were nothing but bandages on a wound too big to stop the bleeding for. “Come in.” You always knocked, never wanting to invade whatever privacy he might want. The door always creaked a bit when you opened it at the slow pace, peeking your head in to see him at the desk. Always there, or pacing around trying to strategize things himself. “You don’t have to knock, you know. You’re always welcome here.” There was a grim look on your face, turning around to close the door behind you before saying anything. “I know. I just want to be careful, in case you don’t want me here.” You could hear the little tap of his ink pen being set down on the desk, a letter still in his hand. “I’ll always want you here.”
You gave a momentary smile, taking a look around the room that always looked the same. Never any changes. You had suggested he decorate a bit, but he never had an eye for that sort of thing it seems. It would seem useless to try and do it yourself now, knowing what you came here for anyway. “Is something the matter?” You kept yourself calm. It was easy to, you had thought this over a thousand times. Had you done it the moment it came to you, you would have been a nervous wreck. “…No.” Clive raised a brow. He noticed it almost immediately, how you dragged your feet for a bit only to quickly pick them back up when you noticed. “You’re dragging your feet, you always do that..” You looked down, lips parting once you noticed. “Oh..”
“What’s really wrong?” Clive stood up, you remained where you were. “I’m just.. worried about you.” You were worried about him. Once you told him, how would he feel? “You’re always going out there, doing something dangerous more often than not.” Was it ever this easy to come up with an excuse? “…I just want you to be alright, that’s…” That wasn’t all, was it? “That’s all I want.” He stepped closer, drawing you in for a warm hug. You’d miss this, at least. You’d miss a lot of things. “But I don’t want to keep you, or stop you.. from doing what you have to.” He rested his hand against your head, eyes closing the moment he went to kiss your forehead. “I’ll be careful, extra careful. I promise.” You nodded, feeling his hand against yours for a moment before he went back over to his desk. You followed after him, standing on the other side and watching him sit down.
“Nothing important today?” Clive shook his head, searching for the spot he left on in the letter. “Not really. Just a few letters of gratitude, thankfully no one is in trouble.” You nodded, eyes roaming his desk. “Mm..” You rested your fingertips along the rim of the vase you had gotten him. You forgot to bring new flowers after the other ones had died. You were realizing a lot of things you hadn’t taken into account now that you were here, for one thing only.
Your hand thudded quiet against the wooden table. “We should stop this.” He didn’t immediately understand, a slight confused look towards you. “What?” You couldn’t look him in the eye, trying to look at anything but his eyes. In the end you gave in, a hole of guilt prodding at your chest. “To… stop. I want to stop.” You didn’t know how to word it correctly now that you were saying it. “I didn’t want to say it immediately, so I made an excuse.. but I wasn’t really lying. I’m.. sorry.” He understood when you tried to say it the second time anyway. “You mean you want to…” The letter drifted from his hand. He took a deep breath, blinking a few times and then standing up. “…Why?”
Was there a good enough reason why? “I don’t..” You swallowed, staring at him for a bit. “It wasn’t ever a problem with you. It was all me, I just couldn’t..” You were surprised you were able to actually speak up. “It feels like.. like everything is drifting.” Your hands fell at your sides. “I don’t know how to feel the way I did, when all of this started.” You felt like an asshole for doing this right now, after he just held you and kissed you and said so many nice things. “Is there.. is there anything I can do? Could I try a little more?” Well, he didn’t seem eager to split up with you, that was one small fear out of the way. “What if it’s just a waste of time?” You took a deep breath, “What if I was never meant for you and you were never meant for me?” Clive shook his head. “Do you truly believe that? Or is that what you want to tell yourself?”
You blinked, pressing your lips together. “I won’t force you. But I have to know if there's even the smallest chance of… trying to fix this.” Maybe there was, maybe there wasn’t. You didn’t usually just tell someone you’re falling out of love with them, you never told anyone before. Clive was the first person you let yourself love, at least in a way like this. “I…” You didn’t like how he was looking at you. So desperately. He wanted so badly to try and fix this, and you just sat here, uncertain. “Even if it.. really is a waste of time, wouldn’t it be better to know that we tried?”
“What if that makes things worse?” You had a good point, as did he. You tried, maybe not as much as you wanted to.. but you still tried. But not like this, not with him having the knowledge of your uncertainty. “Y/N…” You looked down, crossing your arms; almost hugging yourself. “..Okay.” You could hear the breath of relief that left him as he hurried over, engulfing you in one of the few, very tight hugs he gave you. “I’ll do anything, anything I can to try and mend this.” His hand cradled the back of your head, and you were struggling to decide whether to hug him back or not. “But if that isn’t enough, I won’t be angry. I promise.”
His kind heart was what made you wish that sometimes he was crueler, maybe then it wouldn’t have hammered at your heart so much to want to leave him. Maybe you still would, in the end. It was all a matter of time.