i'm here is registered a bit late, in a nostalgic, comfortable sort of way. in a way that should absolutely not be familiar, but she's aware of his presence nonetheless, like orbiting planets. something that always is, always will be. 

"hey," she says, after the waitress returns with a glass of water and a top off for freya's coffee. 

"how are you? after everything?"

Roy Aker

☉

"you don't talk much, do you?" she says, pausing the video on her tablet while simultaneously parsing the memories that are hers. it's easy when she focuses on it - which ones are through a fuzzy lens, but shaking the feelings that accompany them; that, she's found, is the hardest part. 

"okay. tired. confused. work's always here and that sucks, but it's a good thing too." she'd go crazy without it. 

"i'm still...making sense of it all. do i - do we have other living family?" she asks softly. 

Roy Aker

☉

that's a no then. she worries her lower lip. the pikachu in the freeze frame leers down at its opponent, towering stories high. and she feels so indescribably small. 

"i think my father might still be alive, but i don't know the first thing about getting in touch with him." would he be the same man? or is that father winter's cruelest joke - sending her on a wild goose chase for a man of no relation. 

silence lapses. she drums her fingertips against her leg, scoots the tablet onto the table and darkens the screen. gives him her full attention. 

"i'm not going to be very good at this. the getting to know you. the letting you get to know me. but i want to."

Roy Aker

☉

and when did they meet? when she was a child? no. filmy lenses flicker, a flash of light, and his silhouette shifts from child to adult, a portal to the realm of the dead behind him. she scratches her cheek, takes her coffee with her other hand. 

"good. we can both be terrible at it together." a wan smile. 

he is not the same. he can't be the same, just as she isn't, and can't. his family was stripped from him in this life, just like she. maybe, after all of this, they'll be closer than they ever were in the past that never happened. 

her head hurts. 

"how about this - i ask a question and then you get one? it can be anything. and i'll promise to answer honestly."

Roy Aker

☉

he agrees and she is all the happier for it. part of her yearns to stretch out the tapestry of their alternate life, to pick apart the changes, but that isn't fair to either of them.

"okay," she says and she thinks about it, really thinks about it. they'll have more questions, so long as he's content with the game, but this first one seems important. 

her lips twitch. she asks, "what's your favorite color?"

Roy Aker

☉

silver and gold always reminded her of the morningstars. silver like sophia's bow. gold like the morningstar crest, emblazoned on the bleached white stone outside her home. silver like the water by the bluffs, when the moon hung in the sky. gold when the sunrise bathed the city in its light. 

and she thinks, maybe, this is easy, not understanding, but still appreciating, the lengths he went to mull over his own answer. 

but she finds herself saying, just as softly, "blue."

and she looks away, swallowing, eyes tight, as a terrible loneliness sweeps through her. 

"how did balmung become your partner?" she asks quickly.

Roy Aker

☉