Work Text:
I look at his hands.
Holding the glass so gently. His fingernails are clipped, and the tips of his fingers are stained with ink. Proof of a day’s work.
In some other world, he may one day hold my hand with the same love he holds this glass of wine.
In some other world.
In some other world, perhaps I don’t need to avert my eyes from his. Perhaps I can stare into his dark blue eyes, his eyes that I have repeatedly plucked out and wiped clean with my tears.
I want to refuse him when he tells me to look at him, but my eye has another plan.
Just looking at him is killing me.
The same eyes that have looked at me my whole life are killing me. Killing me as they always have.
One hand is holding an empty glass with the remnants of the wine he was drinking to excess, and the other is on his face. His eyes look at me.
Gently, with so much love.
His cheeks are flushed.
So I divert my eyes. His lips are curled into a slight smile. He is smiling at me. His face is resting on his hand, and therefore his hand is touching his face.
One day I will kiss him and he will know I have kissed him; and I will hold his face, touch his skin. For the first and last time, I will tell him how much I loved him.
I feel the back of my throat begin to sting and the back of my eyes begin to pulsate. Have I had wine tonight? I don’t recall.
I begin to cry.
He stands up and says my name. I don’t want to hear such worry in his voice - it hurts me. It is killing me.
His hand touches my face, and it comes close to my eye, and his thumb wipes away my tears. His hand is on my face and I want to push him away.
I cannot. As much as I want to push him away, I want him to kiss my eyes and allow me to cry, to hold me.
He is killing me.
But I need to live.
I stand up and leave.
~
“Qifrey…”
“Olly.”
Why? What have I done to deserve this? Why did he not tell me? Why? I can’t do this alone, I can’t keep going without him!
“Qifrey - why?! Please just tell me! I can’t bear it.”
“…stop. Please.”
I can hear his voice getting weaker and softer. What is happening to him?!
“What do I have to do to stop this?! Tell me what I have to do!”
“I have to go, my love.”
“Don’t - don’t spring that bullshit on me, you - you…”
I can’t stop the tears. They fall on the ground. They fall on roots.
“I love you.” he says.
“Stop. Please. Don’t tell me that. Please, I can’t bear it…”
“Olly.”
His hand reaches out with difficulty to hold my face. The branches are holding him back.
“Don’t - I hate… I hate this…”
“Please just hold me before I go.”
“What? No! There’s no ‘going’ happening, you’re gonna… you’re gonna turn back, and it’s gonna be okay!”
I know I sound childish. This should be a dream, but I get a strange sense of Déjà vu. Has this all happened before?
“Please, Olly.”
“I’m sorry!”
“Please just hold me.”
I hold him to the best of my ability. I hold what is left of him that is not wood or leaves.
“Please look at me.”
I want to refuse, but I look up. Half of his face is covered in beautiful wood.
“I’m sorry, Qifrey! I’m sorry for everything!”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. Please kiss me.”
I wish I could have. I wish I could have years ago. So I do kiss him.
His tongue tastes like wood.
Could twenty years be made up for with one joining of the lips? Could anything make up for the millions of moments we’ve lost?
“I love you, Qifrey.”
Can four words heal a broken heart?
I kiss him until the skin under my lips turns to wood and any semblance of Qifrey fades into bark.
He really is gone.
I fall to my knees and press my forehead against Qifrey.
My Qifrey.
But his eyes are wood now.
And his smile has flattened into the surface of the tree.
His shoulders, his waist, his hips, his legs, all gone.
I mutter his name in the hope it will bring him back.
I say his name over and over again.
I scream it, and hope he will hear me.
I want to curse at him, I want to cry and ask him why he chose to leave when we have no one.
Agott hears me screaming and I hear her footsteps behind me. She takes a moment before she also begins to cry. Has she realised what has happened?
She falls beside me and pulls my cloak over her. I hug her as she cries into my shirt.
~
“Qifrey, you’ll never guess what happened today.”
Dad is talking to the tree again. I’ve tried to tell him he’s not alive. But he needs to cope somehow.
“It rained today. It hasn’t rained in a while, so I thought of you. You really liked - like the rain, so… I thought I’d come talk to you about it.”
I don’t look at him. I can hear his voice breaking. He knows Qifrey is gone, and his words slipped to show it.
“I miss you. I - um. I…”
He is crying again. I also fight back tears.
“I just want to tal- talk to you again. O-one last time.”
I sigh and look at him.
“Qifrey, are you he- there?”
A twig falls directly on Dad’s head. He freezes.
“Dad… it’s just a coincidence.”
And then a twig falls directly on my head.
I freeze too.
“Master… Qifrey?”
The words feel so unfamiliar. A twig falls on my head again.
I look at Dad, who’s stopped crying suddenly and seems to have been paralysed. He breathes out and extends a hand into the air to catch a falling leaf.
It lands in his palm perfectly, and is in the shape of a heart.
He begins to cry again and clasps the leaf in between his hands. He brings it to his lips and kisses it before protecting it between his palms.
He sighs and leans back against the tree, and closes his eyes. I watch him fall asleep.