Chapter Text
"Melissa," Aaron calls, "is there someone at the door?"
The knife in her hands goes completely still, idly pressing against the wood of the cutting board. The slices of tomato soak the surface, evenly cut and distributed into two groups. Melissa can't remember if he liked tomatoes or not, but she feels too embarrassed to ask.
"Someone at the door?" She parrots, looking up from the counter. She directly meets the pale gaze of her little brother, his eyes confused, even with their lack of color, brows softly drawn with concern. "I don't think so, why?"
He momentarily turns to the general direction of the front door before turning back to her. "I heard something."
"...I'll get it, then."
Melissa jogs around the corner of the small kitchen and across the side of the staircase, fumbling with the locks for the door. It groans with age as it slowly drags open under the will of the fingers around the knob. There are no sleek cars outside, no suited person expectantly waiting for an answer with their hands behind their back.
Instead, there's a box haphazardly bound shut with scotch tape on the welcome mat, a postal stamp in the very corner. It's a lot lighter than she expects it to be when she hoists it off of the porch and shuts the door with her heel.
Aaron seems tentative to speak, but he does anyway, his voice less demanding than she's ever heard before. "What was it?"
"Just a package," Melissa gives him her best impression of a reassuring smile before remembering that he can't see it. She carries it to the kitchen counter, pushing the cutting board aside and sliding it into its place. She carefully digs the clean edge of the kitchen knife square into the center of the box, and the tape dutifully splits in half.
Inside, there's an abundance of lilac tissue paper, a few corners torn or bent with creases made with the effort to fit all of it into the box. Taking enough of it out reveals two voice recorders, an untouched candle container, an envelope, and a ziplock bag, packed with cookies she feels like she's seen before.
She reaches for the envelope, carefully peeling back the tape as though it were a fragile artifact. The words are handwritten, each letter thin and messy, all in black ink. Her eyes flicker back to the contents of the box, a resigned sigh drawing from her lips.
"All of this is..." Melissa croaks, low and breathless, and she swallows the stone lodged in the back of her throat. She clears it, loud with the intent to catch his attention. "The package is for you."
"For... me?" Aaron repeats, slow and more confused than before.
"Yeah. It's from one of your..."
She frowns, the breath she needs to say it just not quite surfacing.
Aphmau and Aaron, who have known each-other since they were kids, even when they didn't know it. Aphmau and Aaron, happily engaged, who looked into each-other's eyes and saw hope seep from their very souls, even through digital screens and cameras. Aphmau and Aaron, who both have died once and been brought back to life by sheer grit, knowing they still needed one another, and risked it all again and again, solely for the sake of who they cared for.
"No. What's affected him isn't something love can heal."
"No matter who he smiles with, I just want him to be happy. Please, help him feel that. After everything he's been through, it's all I want for him."
"...friends," she finishes. (She knows Aphmau still wears her engagement ring, just on her left index finger, with the band turned towards her palm to conceal the diamond. She's seen her lose focus and look at it with this sad expression on her face that makes her want to cry.)
"Oh," he mumbles, "okay."