Work Text:
Almost nothing had changed.
The air was as fresh and invigorating as ever, clearing the pollution from her lungs. The amber, autumnal color of the surroundings lit up her mind, vivid with memories that filled her heart.
Making it as heavy as a one-ton weight.
Cyrene had left Aedes Elysiae to study in Janusopolis, establishing a home and professional life there. In the end, she had almost forgotten where she came from.
This little town that warmed her body and soul; this little town that represented her life; this little town that had forged the Cyrene she was today. A foundation that, despite all her efforts and forgetfulness, she felt anchored in her person to the point of dreaming about it.
Every step she took, every look she caught, every flora and fauna she touched, Cyrene remembered.
Laughter, doubts, tears, deep discussions under a tree marked by youth and carefreeness.
A tree she carefully avoided, heading for a small house that looked abandoned.
The wheels of her suitcase were in pain, banging against the pebbles, screaming out their suffering and sometimes ceasing to roll. This didn't stop her from reaching her destination — the small house — and stepping inside, giving her poor suitcase a moment's respite.
The key was having trouble turning. As she had expected, she had to make several manipulations: lifting the handle, turning the key, pushing the door while lowering the handle and then making a second turn. Then, finally, she gave the door a light kick.
Click.
There was no surprise: the house was empty and dusty, some of the furniture covered with a white sheet, others with a transparent tarpaulin.
The homecoming was strange. Unfamiliar. Unforeseen. But Cyrene felt at home at last, and that was what mattered most.
It hadn't taken her more than a week to clean and arrange the house. She hadn't thrown away a single piece of furniture, even though deep down she wanted to replace them.
There was no question of unpleasant or sad memories, just a desire for renewal, to make everything prettier and, above all, in her own reflection.
The second week was devoted to rest. She had spent several years of her life working, without taking many vacations. The accumulation of her days off at least gave her the possibility of being at peace for several months.
So it was with these long vacations trailing behind her like a millstone that she plunged her legs into the tepid water. The sun was beating down, with no clouds in sight to hide it.
Cyrene had left her phone at home, hoping to enjoy the calm and clean air, the softness of the water against her skin.
It was here that Phainon had expressed his love for her. It was also here that Cyrene, Phainon and Stelle spent most of their time as children. Or, if not, they would visit their secret hideaway, filled with fairies of all colors.
Cyrene laid her hand on her enormous straw hat, putting it back on properly. She inhaled deeply, making her chest rise, and exhaled slowly, hoping to lighten the weight in her ribcage.
The Aedes Elysiae market was as lively as ever, and the fruit and vegetables sold always were of the highest quality. The fishmonger and the butcher were still facing each other in the alley, except that the faces had changed: they were no longer the two sturdy men, whose dozen gray and white locks were dueling in their masses of dark hair.
A woman and a man, about her age: one of whom had stars in her eyes as she gazed at him with a big smile, and the other, like the fishmonger he was, shouting to anyone who would listen about his new low-priced finds.
Then recognition dawned. They were the children of the butcher and the fishmonger. They had taken over from their fathers.
Cyrene began to smile, lowering her head and her straw hat, continuing on her way as life continued on its own. Time was something truly fascinating, indeed for those who took an interest in it, the subject could quickly become frightening.
Time is a notion that goes with many idioms, always to emphasize lack, that life is short, or that it's not worth living for long.
It was the negativity around time that saddened her. Seeing the days, weeks, months and years go by, noticing changes in one's facial features, an evolution in one's way of thinking, of living. Meeting and sharing time with people, who might be passing through her life, but at least she'd have good memories of them.
Cyrene wasn't afraid of time, wasn't afraid to observe it, and above all, wasn't afraid to see it in the people who had been close to her.
"Cyrene?" A voice she recognized all too well. "Is that you?"
An elderly woman behind a vegetable stand, all smiles. The wrinkles in her eyes and lips were visible, she wasn't hiding them. Her hair had turned even whiter than she remembered, a sign that old age had really taken hold of her.
"Auntie Audata…"
Everything was happening so fast at Aedes Elysiae. News, conversations, rumors...
So all the locals knew about the work she was doing and even turned on the TV before the evening news to watch Cyrene do the weather forecast.
She was happy to know that they still loved her as much as when she was little. That they supported her by cheering on the audience and that it had practically become a ritual.
Audata was proud of her too. And this squeezed her heart a little, but she continued to smile under the shower of compliments the mother gave her.
And then...
"Phainon should be coming in a few days, he says he has less time since he decided to become a fireman."
"Ah..." She said his name, and abruptly the seemingly dreamlike vacation became oppressive. "That's nice."
"Oh, by the way darling, it's very strange that you came without him. Did you two have a fight?"
Cyrene didn't know what to say, or what to do with her hands, so she decided, in a panic, to put them over Audata's. They were shaking, they were clammy.
"No, Auntie. It's just...we decided to take a little distance."
"It's just that you two were so inseparable, so fused..." She shook her head, certainly not understanding their decision. "Besides, you live far enough away from each other to put some distance between you?"
Cyrene gave her a brief smile, immediately lowering her eyes. Lying was something she didn't know how to do, and one of the things she least liked practicing but she really hoped this lie would hold up, for the time of her vacation.
Besides, the person she had to blame for this lie was Phainon. Why hadn't he told his mother about their break-up? Was it because he really thought he'd never see her again in his life?
"My son has grown so much...But he's still an idiot! You've been a couple for over ten years and he still hasn't asked you to marry him..."
Cyrene swallowed, closing her eyes, the weight she'd managed to evacuate the other day reappearing with far greater intensity.
He had indeed proposed.
Five years ago.
Okhema was a very different town from Janusopolis; busier, with vendors in every corner... The only thing that didn't differentiate the two towns was the liveliness of the children and their ability to dash around.
Cyrene didn't know where to turn, there was so much to see. Every situation the young woman faced was new. Aedes Elysiae, despite their hectic market, wasn't as vast and diverse as Okhema.
Phainon wasn't wrong when he said he'd come to a big, bustling city and certainly hadn't been able to explore everything.
And having her arm under his made the experience all the more wonderful. He explained everything she needed to know about each stand, with details that made her smile.
During the time he'd decided to live in Okhema, he'd familiarized himself with everything possible and unimaginable, just to make his job as a paramedic easier.
He was so sweet, in the wide gestures his spare arm made. His smile lit up the streets like the sun, transmitting its rays to passers-by and shopkeepers alike.
Everyone knew him: Phainon of Aedes Elysiae.
Her Phainon.
Cyrene clung to him as if her life depended on it, resting her head against his arm. He was so big, so strong and yet so tender-hearted...
"I love you." she heard herself say, closing her eyes.
He paused in his explanation, his steps slowing.
"I love you too, more than you can imagine."
His voice was so soft, like a whisper. As if the whole world didn't need to know what he was saying, as if these words belonged to her alone.
Cyrene sighed at ease, letting her body weight fall against him. He barely caught it, a hint of panic in his movements.
"Oh."
Phainon laughed softly, she could feel his chest trembling against her cheek.
"Don't give me a hard time, honey."
Honey.
"Maybe I want you to practice CPR on me."
And he gazed down at her with such gentleness and love, she couldn't help but melt, clinging a little tighter to his body. He was so radiant. So beautiful. So...desirable.
"You don't have to get sick for me to kiss you, you know."
And her face approached his, Phainon's warm, sure hand positioning itself under her chin. With a slow, delicate movement — as if afraid of breaking her into pieces, as if she were made of porcelain — he raised her head. Cyrene couldn't keep her gaze in the sky of his eyes, feeling her cheeks flush.
This same hand, proudly displaying his engagement ring, symbolized their unfailing love, blind trust and endless sharing. This ring reflected Cyrene's life, which belonged to him, and the one encircling her right ring finger meant that Phainon belonged to her just as much.
Her heavy heart, containing all her most intense emotions, cried out only for his name, every beat devoted to him alone. Phainon. Her Phainon.
"Ah! Phainon!"
Cyrene snapped out of her trance, flinching slightly. Unconsciously, Phainon grabbed her hip, pulling her close.
A dark-haired woman ran up to them. She seemed to be wearing a uniform, which looked a lot like the one Phainon wore during his working hours — he'd sent her so many photos, made so many video calls that she couldn't be mistaken.
"Cleo? Is there a problem?"
The woman in uniform slowed down, casting a long glance at the couple, staying a little longer on Cyrene. She pouted briefly before smiling.
"I just wanted to say hello, find out how your days off were going."
He laughed, that infectious, heartfelt laugh that would make anyone fall under his spell. He detached himself from Cyrene, running a hand through his hair.
Oh?
"Quite well, I'm enjoying the fine weather to tell the truth."
"Lucky you!"
Cleo moved a little closer to Phainon, now that he had cut off all contact with Cyrene. The paramedic gently placed her hand on Phainon's muscular forearm, tilting her head sideways.
She made herself look cute.
And she was awfully cute.
"Ah, not really. I really want to get back to work."
Cyrene took a small, imperceptible step backwards, averting her eyes from the scene unfolding before her.
Phainon wanted to get back to work? Didn't the fact that she'd come all the way from Janusopolis to spend time with him count for anything? Disappointed and offended, Cyrene lowered her gaze to the hand resting against her boyfriend's forearm.
It seemed so natural for these two to be in contact. And the look on the woman's face was unequivocal: she liked Phainon. The latter placed his hand on top of the paramedic's, patting her.
"Do you miss our power duo that much?" She laughed, moving a little closer to him. "Don't be so cute."
Cyrene looked up at these words and met Cleo's gaze. As if announcing her imminent defeat and that she was more deserving of Phainon. The ring suddenly weighed heavier against her finger, and nervous tingling appeared.
"I'll be going, Phai'. Take care of yourself."
The paramedic stood on tiptoe to offer him a kiss on the cheek.
Phainon's reaction was not what she had expected; the man's cheeks turned red, as did the tips of his ears.
Cyrene watched the young woman leave. And as she passed, the green gaze of Phainon's colleague looked her up and down, before smiling.
Cyrene looked back, shocked.
"Honey?"
Honey. It had a bitter taste this time.
"Mhm...I'm tired, shall we go home?"
"Oh...I wanted to show you the best stand of-"
"Phai’-" She heard the echo of Cleo calling him by his nickname, without him countering anything. She didn't have as much of a monopoly on that name as she'd always thought. "Phainon, let's go home."
He pressed no further, a thin smile on his lips.
"Sorry, let's go."
——
The softness of the sheets made her want to stay asleep. The warmth emanating from Phainon's body, awakened in her a desire to stay for life in his arms, eternally. His warm breath against her shoulder, his reassuring, firm grip against her belly.
His gesture mirrored his wish to be a father. His longing to be the man of her life. Cyrene looked at her ring, shining in the morning sunlight. The jewelry was simple, like Phainon's love for her.
There was nothing complicated about loving him. And vice versa for him. He asked for little in return, and so did she.
However, the scene with his colleague played over and over in her mind.
He'd let another woman enter his living space, make physical contact and...
"'Morning, beautiful."
A kiss on her shoulder, Cyrene shivered. Had those lips caressing her skin also touched Cleo's?
Phainon snuggled a little closer to her, sighing at ease, as if he'd always belonged by her side. She could hear him sniffing her scent, burying his nose in her long, pink hair.
"Good morning," she mumbled, the scene still playing in her mind. She closed her eyes, shaking her head gently.
"Mhm...you look pensive."
Cleo kissing his cheek. Perhaps she'd been able to move them through his body, as Cyrene had done during numerous nights.
A lump in her stomach formed, rising to her throat. The thought made her nauseous.
"You've worn me out, Phainon."
"That's not all, though, is it?"
Cyrene sighed heavily. Then she turned, facing Phainon. His eyes shone with love, with a fiery passion. A hint of concern and sweetness, which pierced Cyrene's heart.
She loved him to death. She loved him to the point of only breathing his scent, kissing his lips, touching his skin and burying her fingers in his ivory hair.
She began to smile, wiping away any thoughts of Cleo with a wave of her hand, dipping it in Phainon's hair.
He suddenly smiled, his cheeks taking on a rosy hue. That smile that hadn't changed in all those years, radiant, warm. Her little star that had grown into a magnificent sun.
"It's nothing my love, I promise!"
As their noses brushed against each other, Cyrene couldn't help but smile, so contagious was Phainon's one.
They were engaged, and nothing could be more beautiful than waking up and gazing at the man she loved more than anything.
Present time.
He had indeed proposed. Phainon had promised her the moon, making her daydream.
Of course, the fall was all the harder and more violent. And the love she had for him still remained, even if it was only broken fragments she held close to her heart.
"Phainon." Cyrene felt her heart miss a beat. "My son? I thought you were coming in days!"
"I wanted to surprise you."
Audata stood up suddenly, rushing into her son's arms. He was as handsome as the last day she'd seen him. He'd put on weight and his face had also been affected by time. Cyrene lowered her head, feeling tears welling up in her eyes.
"Where's Dad?"
His voice had changed: it was deeper, more composed. It was as if life had taught him a hard lesson. Gone was the Phainon with the cheerful voice and a zest for life, she knew.
(And she had a hunch that she was the leading cause. That she had managed to break him, just as she had been that day.)
But in spite of it all, she still carried her love for him as on the very first day, with a free-flowing passion he loved to drink himself to death.
And when he laid eyes — oh, his eyes that worshipped her with such strength and willpower — on her, gravity played with her body. Cyrene felt heavy, the world around her spinning without stopping.
He was looking at her, frozen.
Time stopped, just for a glance, to let all the memories resurface.
"Cyrene."
"Phainon."
The situation was awkward, for him as for her.
"It's good to see you again." A pleasantry, typical of Phainon. He probably held no grudges.
"I..." I still love you dearly. "The same goes for me."
Audata watched them for a long time, her eyebrows furrowing increasingly. She could feel all the tension and coldness between them. But she said nothing, going into the kitchen to prepare a cup of hot tea.
In the heavy silence, Phainon had settled down opposite her, the place his mother used to occupy.
"You cut your hair." He finally said. It was a simple observation. He liked it long, spent his time stroking it, tangling it, untangling it.
"I have less time to take care of it." A fact, but also it reminded her far too much of her lost love. "You dyed your hair."
A very pale blonde. She who always complimented his ivory hair, he had erased that feature that made him so special to her.
"A way to grow out." He'd always been honest; he'd never lie to her. "Moving on."
"Oh."
She bit the inside of her cheek.
"How's Cleo?"
He sighed, quickly, almost imperceptibly.
"She's fine, she's on maternity leave and decided to go on vacation with her husband."
Cyrene nodded, assuming then that he was simply telling her facts and not reassuring her.
A huge gulf had grown between them, both unable to hold a gaze for more than two seconds, their shoulders stiff and their bodies tense.
A strange way to see each other again, after five years without hearing from each other. Five years after their break-up.
They had changed, they had matured, they were two totally different people from those who let themselves be navigated by the capricious waves of love.
"Good for her."
His colleague managed to have the love of her life by her side, long after she'd rotted Cyrene's naive, doubt-filled mind.
Five years ago.
"I don't know what to do..." Cyrene could hear Cleo's muffled voice. She'd just wanted to pay Phainon a little surprise visit, at his place of work, but found herself near a half-open door. "He has a fiancée, I know, but I can't stop touching him, longing for him to be by my side..."
"He'll never leave her for you, pregnant or not."
Cyrene brought her hand in front of her mouth, preventing any sound from escaping. Her whole body was shaking. Cleo and one of her colleagues were talking about Phainon? Impossible.
I want you to be the mother of my children, Cyrene.
Cleo is pregnant with Phainon's child? Impossible.
Give me the chance to share my days and nights, to fall asleep and wake up next to you until eternity.
"What are you planning to do?" the other woman sounded worried, her voice trembling.
"I don't know...maybe have an abortion?"
Cyrene walked away, her footsteps leading her out of the firehouse. Tears streamed down her cheeks, the air growing thin. Everything around her was of no more importance than this fact: Phainon had betrayed her.
She could have the benefit of doubt, she could ask him if everything Cleo had said was true, but her legs were unable to move.
Allow me to love you, let me carry all the burdens that would give you even an atom of sadness, and make you the happiest wife in the universe.
Present time.
Phainon took the tea Audata had placed on the table before leaving the two alone, like she sensed they needed to talk.
"And your first child? How often do you see him?"
Coughing, bordering on choking, Phainon hastily placed his cup on the table and brought his other hand against his chest.
Surprise could be read in his eyes, as could a hint of incomprehension.
"Child?" He was able to say, tears welling up in his eyes. "What are you talking about?"
Cyrene held back a sigh.
"The one you had with Cleo."
Phainon's blond eyebrows furrowed. He'd dyed them too...
"Wait. I've never had a child with anyone, least of all Cleo. She was a kind of sister, never-"
"Phainon, you can tell me the truth, it doesn't matter to me now."
"But I'm telling you the truth!" His deep voice trembled in his throat, and his eyes sought her out; he wanted her to look into his and see that he wasn't lying. "Cyrene, is that why you left?"
No matter how hard she looked into Phainon's eyes, those five years had been enough to put her in doubt. What the man had been in that time, Cyrene didn't know. She didn't know this new Phainon.
And yet, that gleam in his eyes as he pleaded was more than familiar. It was the same look.
Five years ago.
"Wait! Cyrene!"
Phainon ran after her, catching up quickly. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him, taking her into his arms.
The urge to melt into him and never release herself from his arms was so tempting...But what she had seen and heard made her shiver. She pushed the man she loved more than anything away with all her strength, making him take a step back.
Out of pure instinct, the response of her wounded heart, she slapped him. She withdrew the ring, her hands trembling, and let it fall to the ground.
"You're a liar." And she had regretted her words, because she was certain he would never lie to her. "You're a cheater." Phainon had always been honest with her, she regretted those words too. "You're the worst man this world has ever carried!" She didn't mean it, he was the most beautiful thing this life could have offered her. "I hate you!" Oh, Cyrene loved him far more than those spoken, futile words meant.
But she'd seen them embracing each other. Cleo had confessed to him that she was pregnant and had apologized. And Phainon had taken her in his arms, as a man in love would.
"..."
He had remained standing, his gaze resting on the ring on the floor. With a slow movement, he picked it up, wiping the dust off it.
The street was deserted on this late autumn morning. The birds sang of their happiness, while the wrenching sound of Cyrene's heart was muffled.
Present time.
"I'd better go."
She stood up, intent on leaving Phainon for the second time, five years after their breakup.
"I'm ready to wait for you."
She froze at the door, the desire to turn and jump into his arms itching. To tell him how much she'd missed him, that she was sorry and would listen to anything he had to say. To hear his voice, feel his warmth, smell his scent and say that she was home at last. Her home.
But she continued on her way, carefully closing the door behind her.
Everything reminded her of her childhood. The bark of the tree was old, as were the memories of their blossoming love.
Cyrene touched the tree with fear. Strangely, nothing happened, just this rough sensation under her fingers.
He had told her of his dreams, and she of her feelings. He had reacted with enthusiasm, and she with fear.
"I still love you so much. You cheated on me, so why can't I forget you?" She rested her forehead against the tree, her breathing ragged. She didn't want to cry. She hadn't when she'd left him. "Why do I have this feeling that I've made a mistake and wronged you?"
She let herself fall, her hands against her heart, which screamed in pain, her body answering it in restrained sobs.
She loved him and he still loved her. Despite her hasty answer and her acts, he'd never stopped keeping a place for her within him, waiting for the day when she'd decide to pick up the pieces.