We settled on the verdant expanse, our gazes adrift in the celestial tapestry. I place the box and bottle aside.
"What is this?" inquires Crusch, clearly intrigued by the contents of the box.
Through the artistry of magic, the tobacco leaf curing process becomes remarkably uncomplicated. I elucidated the necessary steps to Rem, and with her innate craftsmanship, she flawlessly executed it on the initial attempt.
"It's a cigar." I extract one from the box and extend it to her.
Even though I know the flavor won't be particularly pleasant, a cigar is, after all, just a cigar.
Yet, at this moment, it's precisely what I need.
"It's a leaf that aids in relaxation; its taste is not the most agreeable, but it contributes to soothing the heart."
The form resembles that of a conventional cigarette, surrounded by compacted leaves; I opted against a cigar, as it would entail a greater quantity of tobacco, something I prefer not to contend with.
Several cigars repose within the box, around twenty, but I plan to approach them with moderation. Her curious gaze seems eager to understand what I speak of.
"First, you must light it." From my thumb, a small flame emerges; I place the cigar in my mouth and ignite it, allowing the smoke to permeate my being.
Gradually, a warmth begins to spread through my lungs, countering the chill I feel.
Immediately, a sense of calm takes hold of me; it's not so much the nicotine that soothes me, but the effect of filling my lungs with warm air.
Although, of course, the nicotine's effects will become apparent later.
I exhale the smoke, watching it disperse into the air until it completely fades away.
"Would you like to try?" I direct my gaze towards Crusch, who examines the cigar cautiously.
She nods, affording me the opportunity to meticulously instruct her in the process.
"Since you're not accustomed to this, you may cough the first time; don't worry, it's entirely normal."
The lungs are reacting to the harmful air. It's as if they recognize an intruder within.
I'll ask Beatrice to employ her healing magic, although I'm unsure if she can alleviate the effects at this level. After all, damage is damage.
Once the cigar is lit, Crusch remains motionless for a few seconds as the smoke begins to escape from the top. When the end lights up and seems ready, Crusch starts to cough.
"Cough, cough!" She coughs for a moment before looking at the cigar again. "It tastes really bad."
In my opinion, it's preferable; the taste replaces the desire to harm oneself, causing discomfort that distracts without inflicting excessive suffering.
"Well, try again."
This time, Crusch succeeds, exhaling a small cloud of smoke.
I recline on the ground, gazing at the stars. The Puck constellation, a magical swarm of stars, adorns the dark canvas of the firmament like delicate flashes of hope.
I have endured much, my chest aches, my heart aches, my soul aches.
It has not been easy.
"It seems you carry many things within you," remarks Crusch, following my example and lying down beside me.
"I won't speak of it, especially with you. I imagine you already have enough problems in your life to bear mine." I inhale deeply, letting the flavor of the cigar invade my senses.
It doesn't taste like a cigarette; I would say it's smoother and healthier than one from my world.
However, it still tastes bad.
"If I tell you my problems, will you tell me yours?" she questions, causing me to look at her.
Crusch must be feeling overwhelming despair, the sensation of losing everything, being forced to abandon what she loved most, being forgotten against her will.
Replaced, without knowing that man's intentions regarding her personal relationships.
At this moment, she is undergoing great torment.
"My problems don't compare to yours; you're in a critical situation right now," I share, understanding the gravity of her situation.
She tilts her head slightly, a gesture that denotes contemplation.
"Your problems are yours, mine are just mine; we're not competing to see who suffers more," she responds, releasing a sigh that dissolves into the air like a grayish cloud. "I understand why you prefer to keep it hidden but try to see the positive side: amid all the people who have forgotten me, you remember me."
I turn my gaze to the sky, sharing the pain that afflicts Crusch.
"For me, you will always be Crusch; I won't let forgetfulness consume you, no matter what happens."
Yes, as long as I retain the power of unyielding memory, as long as I keep her image intact in my mind, she won't fade away completely.
"How do you manage to remember?" she asks, bringing up the topic we left hanging at the tree.
"I'm not sure, but if I had to imagine a reason, it would be because I'm cursed," I reply, feeling the weight on my chest increase.
It's the only explanation that comes to mind; the miasma within me is a double-edged sword: an overwhelming curse and, at the same time, the most cherished blessing. If not for that ability, I would be irretrievably lost.
"Cursed?" she questions, with curiosity tinged with surprise.
"The witch's miasma," I respond without hesitation. Emilia is aware of the connection I share with the witch's miasma, yet she has chosen to respect my space, avoiding delving into the subject.
"I harbor the witch's miasma within me, like a curse that will never abandon me."
Crusch rises, letting the cigarette fall to the ground. With a gesture of wind magic, I extinguish it, and she simply observes, waiting for me to continue speaking.
I take another cigarette, place it in her mouth, and light it.
"From the beginning, I've asserted that I'm not a cult follower; I lack the capacity to explain why I bear this within me." My gaze loses itself in the void. "If I were to do so, I see only two possibilities: you would die, or I would be injured."
"Witch's miasma..." Crusch doesn't divert her gaze from me, perhaps trying to ascertain if the cult's attack is related to my situation. It makes sense to her, especially since I suffered no real harm in the confrontation with Ley.
"There's a scheme orchestrated by the cult; they are using something within me, but I am unaware of the purpose." I direct my gaze to Crusch, struggling to maintain a neutral tone. "I'm sorry, partly because of me, you've lost your name."
Slap!
My face turns due to the impact, and a burning sensation courses through my cheek.
"Don't repeat those words!" Crusch scrutinizes me with an annoyed air. "What happened was beyond your control."
Her words pierce me, feeding the remorse for my actions.
I'm sorry, Crusch.
"I'm exhausted, drained." I destroy my cigarette with wind magic as I toss it. "So, why not share a bit of your burden?"
I sigh, trying to discern the purpose of her words. Clearly, there are aspects I cannot reveal, but I also don't fully understand why I keep them secret; they simply don't flow, no matter how much I wish they would.
I don't want to trust again and then be stabbed in the back.
Crusch faces a disastrous situation as well, but despite everything, she appears strong, much stronger than I, who have become trapped in my own inner world.
"I can't, my burden... is mine alone," I mutter, hinting at the heaviness I carry that only I can bear.
With a gentle yet determined stroke, she makes contact with my chest. In her gesture, I glimpse a mix of palpable determination and longing, as if she's demanding that I fulfill a silent promise.
"You promised, said you'd be able to bring a smile to my face." Her gaze becomes intensely serious. "But the only Marco capable of awakening that corner of joy in me is the Marco of strength, the one who advances with determination regardless of obstacles, the same one who once extended a saving hand to me."
He's also the same Marco I, in a corner of his dark being, wish death upon.
It's the same Marco who left you at the mercy of danger, as if your life had no value.
I close my eyes, attempting to decipher what is happening within me. My emotions stir and churn, as if the storm that has ravaged my life has unleashed an uncontrollable emotional tempest.
Crusch seems to grasp the internal struggle I'm going through, although I hesitate to open my heart to her, who already carries her own burden of suffering.
"That's the Marco I want to maintain, but I'm exhausted..." My confession flows with a sigh, a liberating breath I can't suppress.
It's unstoppable; after all I've experienced, I feel like my heart is on the verge, threatening to burst at any moment.
Sometimes, I long for the ability to cling to someone, release all my insecurities, and vent without restrictions. But the mere idea of showing weakness feels so uncomfortable, so cutting to my pride.
I don't know if I'm ready to open up this way, if I'm willing to admit that I can break.
I doubt I can gather the shattered fragments of my being and rebuild.
At certain moments, I envy the protagonist of the novel, that being who has always had the gift of shedding tears at will, of showing emotions and vulnerabilities with a ease that astounds me.
By releasing his feelings in that way, he manages to avoid falling into the dark abyss, the bottomless pit of despair.
Tears, at their core, are an act of healing, but the true significance lies in how we manage that pain.
He, with courage, frees himself from the chains of sadness, finds a safe haven in those around him to deposit his sorrows, and thus, finds the path to light.
I sincerely envy him.
"Both seem to hold you in high esteem," Crusch holds my hand gently, "and now I understand why concerns weighed them down."
A hint of a smile crosses her face.
I light another cigarette as the sky is tinted with a pale gray.
I shouldn't have uttered those words; my guilt is entangled in each of them. It should have been my duty to seek her out.
I feel like a complete idiot, drowned in my own misguided actions.
Crusch's hand starts to tremble, drawing my attention to her. Her hair falls like a veil over her face, while her ponytail unravels into a whirlwind of rebellious strands.
A subtle tremor runs through her figure, and her eyes fixate on the ground, as if her gaze is drawn into an abyss of turbulent thoughts.
"I'm invaded by nerves," her voice, laden with anxiety, trembles in harmony with her body. "I've lost everything, and more than that, someone I value has taken my place."
She clutches my hand tightly, her fingers tight as if seeking to anchor herself to reality. Although I can't see her expression clearly, the fact that she's showing this heart-wrenching unrest hints at what she was hiding, what she had been silently enduring.
"I know I am Crusch Karsten, but even that identity has faded away." Her eyes, veiled by her hair strands, settle on her other hand. "My purpose as a future queen was to challenge the status quo, but that opportunity has been snatched away from me. The person I value so much has somehow resurrected and stripped me of everything."
Fourier Lugunica, that enigma shrouded in mystery, looms like a shadow challenging us to decipher it. However, it should not be assumed that the path will be simple.
That man is cunning; his insight and strength could surpass even the limits of my conjectures.
Crusch begins to weave the memories of her past. A time when she and Fourier forged a close bond, cultivating a friendship that transcended barriers. Being the daughter of the Karstens, she was always linked to the high echelons of power.
The prince, her betrothed, was not an unfavorable choice, partly thanks to the sympathy she felt for Fourier and her perception of him as a potential partner.
"The Lion King," Crusch whispers with a choked voice, "an individual who doesn't let his flame extinguish in the face of any obstacle, a discerning being capable of overcoming all adversities."
It's a figure Crusch admires and respects. That attribute was embedded in Fourier's personality, and that regal essence was what drew her attention.
Even if appearance wasn't decisive, he exuded the majesty of a monarch.
Unfortunately, Fourier was only considered a means to renew the contract with the dragon, despite carrying that regal presence.
"That was the primary reason I perceived the darkness within the contract," she murmurs with a bitter undertone in her words.
Crusch, then, recounts her life after rescuing Félix. A torrent of diverse experiences dragged her onto a path where she crossed paths with Reinhard, Julius, Anastasia, and other singular souls.
Each of these encounters brought forth a mental and emotional challenge, a series of trials that shaped her character.
And with the advent of Fourier, her life changed again, ironically, as if destiny mocked her attempts to steer it.
Fourier Lugunica, that title now takes on a deeper meaning. He has held me in the palm of his hand from the beginning. "Now, the only thing enduring from my former self is you," her words flow like a whisper, her eyes reflecting a slight moisture. "If it weren't for you, who knows what would have become of me."
Indeed, if Frey had taken her along, the fate awaiting her would be uncertain and ominous. Interrogations, followed by relentless death, could have been her sorrowful outcome.
I am unsure if Frey identifies Crusch, which could be the missing link to uncovering a crack in his armor.
"I still hold you in my memory, even though the world has torn you from its pages, you remain imprinted in me. Neither time nor forgetfulness can shatter that." I approach her; the space between us seems to evaporate. "You are and will continue to be Crusch Karsten in my heart."
Her head tilts slightly, her eyes meeting mine, conveying emotions that words cannot fully encompass.
"But I am no longer a Karsten; precisely that identity led me to this loss." Her gaze loses itself in the celestial vastness; her hands tighten with determination. "My parents, their affection resonates in me like an imperishable treasure. I will never regret being a Karsten, but if I long to reunite with them, I cannot walk the paths already trodden."
Now I understand. Crusch does not blame me for losing her name. My initial assumption crumbles before the truth.
She blames her own fragility, reproaches her own essence, bears the weight of her responsibility on her shoulders.
"I do not regret taking that path," her hand still clings to mine, anchoring our destinies. "Events unfolded due to my weakness; now, the consequences are what I have to bear."
What happened was not a direct result of my intervention but of my incapacity to face my own darkness. Her voice falters, and the storm of emotions she tries to contain is evident.
She envelops me in a hug, her arms embracing me as if afraid the world would snatch me from her hands.
A knot forms in my throat; my own voice is trapped amid the whirlwind of emotions her words have unleashed.
"It is not my custom to grant this gesture, but if I am no longer who I was, then I can be only Crusch," a pause, an instant where the fragility of the soul intertwines with determination.
A tear rolls down my cheek, not mine but one she sheds. Is she crying?
Crusch hugs me, and my feet find solid ground. I am not accustomed to this kind of embrace, not at this level of vulnerability.
What I did with Beatrice, what I did with Emilia. This feels different, for some reason.
"Yes, to be strong tomorrow, I must allow myself to be vulnerable today." The grip of her arms is firm, determined.
Those words, those words awaken echoes in my memory. I spoke to them once to Emilia, released her to find strength in her vulnerability, so she could be stronger tomorrow.
However, in the end, it is I who continues to speak without turning my own words into action.
I say so much, promise so much, but often, they are mere words without substance.
How can I change? How can I transmute that rhetoric into action?
I try to lift my gaze, but Crusch gently shakes her head. From this position, I can perceive the frantic beats of her heart, feel her warmth, her sorrow.
In this proximity, she is baring her feelings, sharing her fears.
Can I do the same?
"I apologize..." the words flow from my lips, a whisper that resonates in my soul.
The knot, so tightly tied and tangled, seems resistant to unraveling.
I cannot deny the impact Crusch's closeness has had on me, how she has brought to the surface what I have kept hidden for so long. I never imagined Crusch would take such a step, that she would hug me with such determination, forcing me to confront my deepest thoughts.
"I'm sorry..." my words fall into the space that separates us, while she reinforces her embrace, and for the first time, I feel I must respond in some way.
My arms encircle her back with an instinct that goes beyond reason.
So, we remain, enveloped in each other's warmth, like two broken souls seeking to fit together.
The chilly breeze is replaced by the warmth emanating from our bodies. And in that moment, between the embrace and the shared heartbeat, my story begins.
"Before..." my voice trembles at the start, but I persevere. "I must tell you the truth about what has been happening."
I omit the memory of my interactions with Pandora, but the revelations that have shaken my understanding of myself begin to flow.
I speak of the miasma, of how it is intertwined with my being, how it reacts to intense situations. I talk about the critical situation with the Sages, their dark plans threatening to strip us of everything we cherish.
"The situation with the sages is critical; they seem to have a macabre plan to take everything from us." I sigh, interrupted as I try to contain my voice.
My breathing quickens, trying to keep up with the pace of my words that threaten to escape me.
"Please, don't say more," I ask in a choked whisper inside me, fearing that if I open the floodgate, I won't be able to close it.
Desperation seeps into my voice as I continue. The responsibilities we carry, the self-imposed commitments, everything seems to compress upon me, squeezing me, suffocating me.
"I just want to be happy, is that such a bad desire?"
"Stop." I say inside me.
My voice falters, and I clench my hands, feeling my fingers tense in search of an outlet for all that accumulates within me.
"It's my fault, I admit," I say, my voice a mix of sorrow and anguish. "I longed for happiness, but now that pursuit has become a yoke that suffocates me. The decisions I made, the paths I walked led me here."
"You must stop talking, Marco Luz." The words spill from me like a disordered torrent, without structure or control.
My mind seems an endless maze, and each passage leads to an emotion that has been hidden, to a thought that has been repressed.
"I have to find the strength, even if the battle is not to my liking." My gaze falls on my hands, as if the essence of my internal conflicts were contained in them. "The bloodshed, the lives I've truncated out of revenge and hatred... I am not who I wished to be when I was young."
"Already..." A cluster of feelings and thoughts collide within me. Guilt, remorse, exhaustion, all amalgamate in a whirlwind threatening to sweep me away.
"My existence appears bereft of meaning; I've lost everything," my voice slightly trembles, the weight of my words hitting forcefully. "Cast into an abyss of agony, I find myself here, struggling to discover purpose, to comprehend the essence of it all.
"Please, desist."
The images of the battle against the whale resurface in my mind, the memory of spilled blood, the insidious pain that enveloped me.
Despite the sufferings, I am yet unable to shed tears, but what I express, what I bring to light, seems more significant than tears.
"I suffered, suffered like never before. I fell and rolled across that battlefield while hopelessness seized me."
She continues to embrace me as I immerse myself in this tide of words I've kept in the darkest corner of my being for so long.
The beat of her heart seems to set the rhythm of my narrative, guiding me in this dance of confessions.
If I have come this far, if I have already shared so much, if she has heard about the crystal and all that it entails, then I must continue.
The reason behind my healing, the pain that accompanied my recovery, all comes to light as I continue to speak, letting the words flow unrestricted.
"I have toiled tirelessly, ignoring my own pain," I hold her tightly, as if fearing she will vanish if I let go. "It's an impossible struggle; I am not as strong as I pretend to be. My past torments me; every mistake I make seems to echo my insecurities."
"Your gaze does not lie, though it might have gone unnoticed before. The last time you came, I could glimpse hidden desperation in your eyes," she interrupts her embrace, pulling me out of her momentary refuge. "You always appeared strong, but in some corner of your countenance, even if no one else noticed, I saw it clearly from the very beginning."
Her hand rests gently on my cheek, and her touch is like a bomb that soothes my internal torments.
"The pain you carry, the shadow that haunts your past, everything you have endured is truly unimaginable." She observes me, with a gaze so penetrating that I feel completely captivated. "I could not bear those burdens, I am sure. You are exceptionally strong."
I shake my head in disagreement. I am not strong; true strength lies in those who can move forward with their heads held high, who continue despite adversities, who turn the page and restart their lives.
I, on the other hand, am merely resilient, hardened by pain, accustomed to suffering.
"Let us keep this moment between us two." She looks directly at me, her expression laden with serenity. "We can preserve it as a unique memory."
I can endure it; I know I can, but turning the page is something beyond my reach.
"What if we dance?" she suddenly asks, her proposal catching me by surprise, but her smile is so warm and refreshing that my heart beats with renewed energy.
"I, too, have faced considerable challenges," she continues, her hand lightly caressing my cheek. "So, let's look at it from another angle: we are both here, sharing our burdens and concerns. Let's dance, let's dance to become more."
I nod with gratitude, and in a deliberate gesture, we rise from our seats, intertwining our hands like a bond connecting our souls.
A glance at the sky reveals a lack of music, a small hindrance in our plan.
However, I don't allow that detail to deter us. With determination in my gaze, I step away for a moment, searching in my room for something to remedy the situation.
I return quickly, finding her gaze surprised.
"Why did you leave?" she asks, her curiosity mixed with a hint of bewilderment.
In response, I extend my hand, holding my cell phone.
Music is a universal language, a way to connect with the soul of another person; they speak Japanese here, so it is prudent to find something perfect.
A smile forms on my lips as I search for the right song for this moment.
"Give me a second."
I feel a vibration in the air as anticipation grows.
Finally, I find the perfect melody. A song that encapsulates the storm of emotions struggling to be liberated. My choice is deliberate and full of meaning.
"That device..." I interrupt her question with a gentle gesture, placing my finger on her lips in an act of shared mystery.
Our hearts beat in unison, like the notes of a melody about to bloom.
"When the song ends, I'll tell you. But for now, it will be just you and me." My words are a whisper loaded with complicity, a promise between two souls that have found a deep connection.
I place my phone nearby, increasing the volume of the music. The warm and emotive voice of Miki Matsubara will fill the air as the song "Stay with me" begins to flow.
"How do you dance to this?" her question is a mix of curiosity and anticipation, and I can't help but smile.
The truth is, I don't have a definitive answer. I have never danced to this song before, but I know it doesn't matter. We will let our feelings guide us, let the music envelop us, and let the beat of our hearts mark the rhythm.
"Just let your heart guide you," I reply, taking her hand gently.
The song begins to fill the space with its energy and emotion. I smile, imagining the kind of dance the song inspires. The melody wraps around us like a gentle breeze, and I visualize each note as a step in this dance of emotions.
The chorus's voice glides smoothly like a whisper in the breeze of a starry night.
I close my eyes for a moment, allowing the music to penetrate the depths of my being.
Now, I simply look at Crusch, staying focused on feeling her.
"It may not sound as polished as it would on a stage, but here, in this moment, where the stars shine brightly, we are the sole individuals in the world."
"That is..." Crusch glances at the cell phone momentarily, but I gently pull her, redirecting her focus to me.
The melody binds us, like two hearts beating in unison, sharing the same life pulse.
"You are you; I am me."
The voice is the thread weaving through the story, carrying with it the vulnerability and passion that envelop each verse.
Like two characters in a tale, we begin to spin on this imaginary stage, our movements imbued with significance.
Each note is like a shiver running through our souls, unearthing the secrets we had concealed.
"Look into my eyes." My voice is a gentle plea as I fixate my gaze on Crusch. My heart beats with an intensity I can barely contain, and my body longs to express what words cannot.
The acoustic guitar strings are like the heartbeat, a constant pulse accompanying every sigh of the voice. Each note is an echo of our emotions, a silent declaration of the passion we share.
Synchronizing my voice with the melody, I let it out.
"Stay with me." I move with energy, allowing the music to flow through me. Our steps become frenetic, a tangible reminder of the intensity of the connection we seek.
Crusch opens her eyes in surprise as the song continues to play, and we both dance. We are not just two individuals, but two souls entwined in this dance of emotions.
Boundaries fade, and our bodies become vehicles for pure expression.
As the song progresses, our movements become an expression of our intertwined souls. Without the need to be physically close, I can feel her warmth, her pain.
I can feel her as an extension of myself.
"I suffered so much, but now, I can only see you." My words echo the story we share, of the pain we want to overcome.
Crusch smiles, and in that moment, our smiles merge into one, like two halves that have finally found each other.
We both continue to dance, not exactly sure how, but trusting that our hearts will guide us. The piano keys seem to whisper shared secrets, as if each note were a confession of feelings and vulnerability.
"What are you hiding?" Crusch seems surprised by the unusual music that flows. And although the instruments may be unfamiliar to her, it's as if the melody speaks in a language only, we understand. "It doesn't matter; this has taken me by surprise. To think we would be here, dancing."
The piano becomes more present, enveloping us in a sense of intimacy. I close my eyes for a moment, letting the notes penetrate my being.
A hole opens in my heart, releasing the pieces I've kept hidden for so long.
Crusch's gaze finds me, and in her eyes, I see understanding and acceptance.
The instrument strings intertwine their notes, creating an atmosphere of sweet melancholy that envelops us. Each chord is a shared sigh, an expression of feelings we've repressed for a long time.
"Stay with me; I promise I will be the man you can't take your eyes off." My words are a commitment, a promise to be someone she can trust completely. As we move to the percussion's rhythm, I feel my heart lighten.
The percussion sets the rhythm of two hearts synchronizing in their desire to be together. The music is a constant reminder that we are stronger together, that our souls can find solace in each other's company.
"You knocked on my door." I smile, recalling how this connection began unexpectedly. "And you entered without asking permission."
Now I understand it, even if I never accepted it.
She smiles back, and in that moment, our hearts speak a language beyond words. Our bodies move in harmony, each movement a testimony to our shared emotions, to the pains we've carried in silence.
Solitude harms me. Every beat we deliver to the ground, every rhythm of the instruments reinforces the emotional intensity of this moment. It's as if the music is dancing through us, taking us to a place where vulnerability is beautiful and liberating.
The needle of my record player. "While I live, I will never forget this," says Crusch, and her voice synchronizes with the song's lyrics. I close my eyes and feel her voice vibrate within me.
It's as if time stops for a moment, and we only exist in this dance of feelings.
The chords delicately and sincerely intertwine with the melody, like two souls embracing in an eternal hug. The music is an extension of our pain and longing, wrapping us in its warm and comforting embrace.
"Let's stay the whole night; don't go away." I look towards her, feeling the urgency to hold onto this moment. There's a serenity in this embrace, in this dance of hearts that have finally opened to each other.
The same melody keeps playing over and over. A moment of peace that I've longed for so long. A moment where my heart aches but aches with happiness, finally freed from the chains that kept it captive.
"The seasons will keep changing." Crusch pulls me towards her gently, and I feel the security of her embrace, "but this moment..."
"While I live, I will never forget this."
Our words synchronize, like two notes forming a perfect chord.
In this instant, we are more than just two individuals. We are souls connected in a sea of uncertainty, but together, facing it with courage.
It's different now; both of us know that hiding behind a mask of strength is no longer necessary.
In this dance, in this song, we are letting out the pain we've kept in our hearts for so long. We are vulnerable, but we are also strong in our vulnerability.
Caught in the reflection of her eyes, I smile as we both gaze deeply at each other. Our souls are bare, our hearts beating to the rhythm of the music that still fills the air.
"Thank you, Crusch." My voice carries a profound sincerity, expressing gratitude for this opportunity to open my heart.
"There is much more than one way to love," she says softly as the song fades, indicating its sweet conclusion, "you love them so much that you don't want to see them suffer, but they love you so much that they want to suffer for your well-being."
At this moment, our souls are in complete harmony, understanding that love is expressed in many ways, even though shared suffering.
I sigh, looking at the starry sky, where our stories are written in every bright twinkle.
As we hum together, I feel that this melody becomes our song, our way of sharing the pain that our hearts had hidden.
Let's keep this moment just ours, like a treasure hidden in the chest of our memories.
"Who would have thought that you hid that in your heart." I look at Crusch, noticing the serenity that envelops her now.
"It was a beautiful song," her voice is gentle as a caress, resonating in perfect harmony with the lingering melody in the air.
The silence envelops us as the music reaches its conclusion. The night continues to shine with the same intensity, but something has shifted in our perception. We have changed, grown through this shared experience.
My gaze meets hers, and her beauty is like a reflection of the hope we share. I gently cup her cheek, ensuring that in this moment of profound connection, she sees only me.
Every part of the song, every instrument that has resonated in the space between us, converges in a passionate dance that speaks directly to the heart. This song has been the bridge leading us to this place of emotional intimacy.
We remain in silence, embraced by the certainty that this moment has marked a new chapter in our story.
"Thank you, Crusch," my voice echoes all the emotions we've shared through this song. My eyes contemplate her with a warmth that makes me want to leap and soar.
A friend with whom I share a common destiny; it's indeed strange. Strange how it's easier for me to confide my sorrows to a stranger. Well, even though we know each other now.
Now, there's something that will make her understand everything.
"I don't come from this world." My warmly smiling face hovers over Crusch's surprised eyes. "You might wonder why your divine blessing isn't activating or if I'm crazy and can lie, but no... It's the truth; my knowledge doesn't come from this world. I arrived here just over two months ago."
She seems shocked by my words, but my gaze is firm and sincere, seeking her understanding amidst the surprise.
"I was brought by a powerful entity, which left me at the mercy of uncertainty." I hold her hands firmly. "Now, I'll have to embrace this world; I'll have to move forward. My name is Marco Luz; I'm an engineer, and I'll be the one to turn everything upside down."
I smile confidently as she processes the revelation. It's an unusual truth, but in the context of what we've shared, it seems to fit somehow.
In this moment of revelation and mutual acceptance, our souls have found each other amid uncertainty. We are no longer alone in our struggles and mysteries but share a unique and powerful connection that transcends the limitations of this world.
Despite the challenges and uncertainties that await us, we know we are together in this.
Together, we will face the unknown, explore the possibilities this unusual union offers, and grow together.
The music that brought us together in this dance of emotions continues to resonate in our hearts. Now, that same melody becomes the anthem of our shared determination.
The stars shine more brightly in the sky, as if celebrating our encounter and shining in our hearts.
The night witnesses our silent agreement. We are no longer two individuals separated by darkness and mystery but a team willing to face destiny together.
"I would say you're crazy, but your existence, the mystery of your identity and your past, the reason for your explosive appearance, that device, that music, your presence, your intelligence..." She looks at me serene, the Crusch who endures everything, the Crusch who can do anything is before me. "Now I see. So, as you are not from this world, and I was taken out of this."
Our hearts intertwine, knowing exactly what words Crusch wants to convey. With a smile and the moon at its highest point, illuminating us as we shine brightly, the connection between us becomes deeper and more meaningful.
What I mean is:
"Let's make it ours."
The words hang in the air like a silent pact.
I will conquer this world.
I will be an unstoppable force, rising as many times as necessary.