In the Heart of Emilia
If I had seen this at any other time, if my friends hadn't stepped in to help me, I surely would have fallen into a darkness with no return.
Yes, I admit that I feel devastated, plunged into an abyss of pain and confusion. But, among the shadows that threaten to swallow me, I can also glimpse a faint light that was previously imperceptible.
It's as if I suddenly woke up from a deep sleep.
I remain silent, letting that person's words seep into my mind. The harsh truth of their words resonates within me, echoing in every corner of my being.
How could I have been so naive?
Echidna stands before me, her imposing presence accentuating my sense of helplessness.
"You look like an idiot," Echidna mocks me, her voice dripping with disdain as her arrogant gaze tries to provoke me. "Marco has become a monster, and you, you have welcomed him into your very being."
I desperately try to keep my composure, but the acidic words escaping her lips pierce my heart like sharp daggers.
My inner voice whispers that she might be right, that perhaps I am foolish for clinging to the idealized image of the one I care so much.
Her cruel revelation hits me with the force of a storm, knocking the wind out of me and leaving me speechless. But in the midst of my fall, a fierce determination begins to emerge from deep within me.
If I want to help Marco, if I want to redeem our relationship, I must find a way to pull him out of where he is.
"Even though I may not be the smartest or the wisest, I'm willing to fight for him," I reply with a trembling voice, but firm in my resolve. "Even if my path is uncertain, I can't abandon him."
And so, with tears streaming down my cheeks and a heart full of uncertainty, I face the challenge before me.
I can't believe what Marco did in the past, nor can I grasp his current actions. The Marco I know emerged from the ashes of a man shattered by the consequences of a tragedy in his world.
Even so, the tragedies happened, I can't deny that. The death of his parents is a painful example of this...
All that burden of suffering, guilt, and loneliness he has carried on his shoulders. It has all dragged him to this point, locking himself in his own pain, unable to find a place to belong. It was Betty who managed to reach him, who moved his heart and reminded him of his humanity.
And now his life hangs by a thread, to save him, she...
Just like his mother did.
He has endured so much, the pain, the anguish, the exhaustion. He has confessed things to me, but he must feel like a monster, 'although now that he regained his memories, he must feel worse.' Marco would never forgive himself, because, although he tried to erase the traces of the past, the echo of destruction and chaos still resonates within him.
'What he remembers, what he is starting to remember, all that is what Marco did. The suffering he caused at the hands of being controlled by the miasma, the suffering he carries in his heart for letting himself be controlled.'
And yet, I've never heard him speak of those feelings. Even now, he continues to treat himself like a monster, 'a monster that deserves nothing but suffering.'
I look at her intently, trying to maintain my firmness. Her black eyes feel like an abyss, an abyss of hatred directed at me, an abyss of interest directed at Marco and his world.
"He was being manipulated, there was nothing he could do." I press my lips together, trying to swallow my own words.
It's the truth, the moment the crystal broke, I felt all of Marco's pain, all the suffering emanating from the real Marco.
Echidna steps closer, her face approaching mine, and her finger pokes right at my forehead.
"Are you an idiot?" Her smile is merciless, loaded with ill intentions. She wipes her finger, then looks at me intently. "That was his wish. In this world, it all comes down to desires; his own greed condemns him to follow his impulses. He is an ambitious man, even before they put that collar on him. You could say that both decisions, saving his family and trying to save the rest, reflect his insatiable ambition. It's incredible, it's fascinating how someone like him can be born, a walking danger. Someone who could be the ruin of everything."
If Marco went mad now, with the power he possesses, he would undoubtedly be a threat.
I can still see the struggle in his eyes when he faced Garfield, I can still feel the blend of his magic with Betty's. "That's not something a human does." I still remember his expression when I said such cruel words to him.
"Don't come."
I can still hear his words when I tried to help him.
"Life will be what you want it to be, it will take the form you give it."
I remember every encounter with him, every word of encouragement he offered me. I can feel the warmth of his hugs, his affection...
"Human beings are greedy by nature, they will always seek their own benefit. Chaos and evil arise just from their existence. Among these people, someone like Marco is born, an ambition that seeks the well-being of others." Echidna smiles, locking her gaze with mine. "However, the monsters of greed are the most dangerous."
Then, with a smile that tries to hide the whirlwind of emotions inside me, I look her in the eyes. My shoulders involuntarily shrug before letting out a sigh filled with the truth I finally recognize.
'I'm not as good as I thought.'
"Monsters like you?" I stand up with determination, forcing her to step back. I move towards her, not letting her gaze intimidate me. "Do you think your words can hurt me?"
Echidna's face contorts with a mix of emotions, her gaze piercing me with palpable hatred, I can feel it. She tries to speak, but I don't give her the chance.
"Your words can't hurt me, because I already know what you're trying to tell me," I say calmly, while extending my finger to gently touch her forehead. Her eyes remain fixed on me, but I can tell my words have had an effect on her. "I can't be hurt by your complicated words, I'm not smart enough to worry about such unnecessary things."
It's a truth I finally accept.
I'll let Marco be the one to overthink. I'll keep moving forward, facing whatever comes and finding a way to turn the bad into good.
'There's no point in dwelling on it.'
"In the end, you're my princess too."
His words resonate within me, bringing a smile as I look at the screen.
I can help you, and I'll do everything I can to do so.
'And I, as his princess, have a duty to look after his well-being,' I clench my hands, determined to act.
"I know I don't know his whole story, but honestly, it doesn't matter anymore.
"Marco's past is just a prologue to the person I know now. The Marco from that past no longer exists, so I don't need to see more, I don't want to waste any more time." I place my hands over my chest. "I'd rather hear it from his lips than relive it here. So, keep it to yourself."
I never fully understood it, but seeing it now makes me realize something important. It doesn't matter what Marco was in the past, manipulated or not. What matters is who he is now. I won't absolve him for his past actions, but I will fight for him to become a better person. Because I know, deep down, that he was never bad.
It's my decision, and I don't care what others think. After all, I'm free to choose. Marco has paid for his mistakes and will continue to do so for the rest of his life. But that doesn't mean he should also be unhappy.
'I need to ask him, to know what was erased from his past.'
"Thank you, Echidna." I let a sincere smile light up my face because thanks to her challenge, I've discovered so many things.
I've found Marco.
I've found my own essence.
I've learned to value my feelings, recognizing them as my own, and I've seen my own strength reflected in those I appreciate. My friends, my parents ones, will always be a part of me.
For the first time, Echidna seems to show genuine emotion. Her hatred towards me makes her shine in a unique way. Her features twist, with furrowed brows and trembling, tight lips. Her arms tense as she watches me without a shred of kindness.
In contrast, I maintain my smile, facing her without any fear.
"You're authentic. I like seeing that glint of hatred in your eyes." My words make her step back slightly.
She is the personification of greed, an entity that embodies the purest form of avarice. A psychopath incapable of feeling emotions like others. But the hatred she feels for me is real.
"It makes me SOOO happy to see you can express your emotions without hiding behind a mask." I say as Echidna transforms the movie theater into an open field, where the breeze caresses my skin, and the sun illuminates a radiant blue sky.
"So, have I passed the test?" I ask Echidna, who sits in front of me with an annoyed expression.
"Go." Echidna extends her hand, but I stop her immediately.
I shake my head, recognizing that there's more at stake.
"The bet..." my gaze rises to the sky for a moment before returning to her. "I think I've won." I smile determinedly, facing her firmly.
She purses her lips and then extends her hand toward me. A blue light radiates from her fingers, flooding the place with its glow. The world begins to distort, the greenery slowly disappearing from my sight, but the beautiful blue sky remains unchanged.
Echidna begins to fade, and the last thing I hear is her voice laden with emotions.
"What a nuisance, having to do a favor for someone like you." Her words resonate in the air, filled with a feeling I can't ignore.
With the firm conviction that I must help him, although I still don't know how to face this challenge.
'How can someone overcome something like this?'
If my desire is genuine, there's only one option left: ask for help. Appeal to those who have shared life with him from the beginning. Those who know the real Marco, the Marco who is still unknown to me.
Crossing over, I'm filled with a sense of awe at the magnificent view before my eyes. It's a completely different experience to see everything in person than through a screen. The reality of Marco's world unfolds before me, with an order that, although somewhat empty, remains beautiful in its essence.
The urban designs remind me of Irlam, with its similarly structured neighborhoods and houses that resemble each other, though with slight differences. My hands instinctively tighten as I gaze at Marco's house. Every step I take heightens my nervousness; I feel my hands and legs tremble with the emotion that engulfs me. Soon, I will meet his parents in person.
Even though they are no longer alive, Marco knows them deeply.
Standing before the door, the urgency to act naturally takes hold of me. I extend my hand and knock several times. My heart beats so hard it seems ready to escape my chest, while a wave of nervousness courses through my body. I've never felt so anxious, nor have my hands sweated like this before. I watch the door, waiting for a response.
Suddenly, an intrusive thought takes hold of me: 'Won't it be strange for them to see someone like me?' I open my eyes wide and quickly try to cover my ears with my hair, but the magic doesn't respond to my call.
I touch my eyelids, feeling them swollen.
'It can't be!' Anxiety overwhelms me, and I struggle to arrange my hair and form a smile, only to realize my outfit is disheveled. I don't want to make a bad impression on Marco's parents.
"Excuse me... Who are you?" The question snaps me back to reality. I observe his mother, even more beautiful in person, and I am amazed. However, a wave of embarrassment floods me as I realize I'm not prepared. My cheeks flush, and her confused gaze plunges me into panic.
"I am, uh..." I desperately search for the right words, but my mind is blank. Thinking about it, it's obvious she won't recognize me. Who would let a stranger into their home?
Determination fills me:
'Yes! I can do it; I can do it.' Gathering all my inner strength, I direct my gaze at her, meeting her eyes with mine. My lips move quickly, seized by nerves.
"Maria, Marco's girlfriend!" My heart skips a beat as I say those words, not knowing what impression they will make on his parents at that moment.
'Stupid Emilia! Stupid! Stupid!' I can't believe I said that just out of nerves. I smile at Marco's mother, but I realize time seems to stand still suddenly. 'Did Echidna do it?'
"It's okay to be nervous, but try to make the most of this moment," an unknown voice resonates in my mind. It's so calm and warm that my nerves ease a bit.
Then, I start feeling my body in a strange way. I quickly realize that I'm growing a bit, watching myself transform into someone else. Although I don't recognize myself, something in me knows who I am.
"Help that fool, you know how much you appreciate him, even if he doesn't deserve it." I smile, recognizing the partial truth in those words. That's why I came, although I also wanted to meet his parents.
When the transformation is complete, I face Marco's mother, who stares at me intently. Now I'm a bit taller. It's strange to see everything from this perspective, ha-ha. 'Towards the beyond...'
I avoid laughing at my own joke, feeling embarrassed for thinking something like that. However, the joy that fills me is indescribable.
"Sorry for not recognizing you!" she exclaims, throwing herself at me and hugging me. I feel the warmth in her embrace, her arms holding me tightly and with emotion. I perceive the affection she gives me, so clear that I almost start crying from emotion.
After getting over the surprise, I return the hug, trying to calm my excited heart. I didn't think a simple hug could make me feel this way. Happy and anxious, as if fulfilling an unknown dream.
"It's a pleasure to see you in person for the first time." I try to keep it formal, but Marco's mother lets go of me and looks at me with a certain rejection.
"Did I say something wrong?" I ask, feeling a lump in my throat.
"No need to be formal! We're family!" she exclaims, smiling in a way so warm it melts any icy barriers I had. Her voice, her way of being, her aura.
It's such a marked contrast to Marco's usual coldness that I can't help but compare them in my mind. 'You should learn, Marco! Hmph!' a soft reprimand forms in my thoughts directed at him.
Most of the time, Marco addresses me with a formality that feels distant. He even refuses to use a nickname or a more intimate term; the most I've managed is for him to call me princess.
Even his daughter, Betty, scolds him for it.
"Come in! Let me show you our home, also yours," says Marco's mother, extending her hand to invite me inside. I nod and move forward cautiously, reflecting on my next steps.
'Before I was afraid, but now it's time to teach him a lesson,' I think as I cross the threshold of the house.
As I enter, a pleasant surprise envelops me. Everything seems to have undergone a magical transformation. The warmth of the home, which comforting embrace of belonging. The mansion can't compare at all; if I had to, it would be with Lyza's house, Petra's mother.
Warm and cozy, sweet and serene.
But, somehow, this is also different. I feel like I belong, that I also want to be part of this warmth that surrounds me like a gentle spring breeze.
My lips part slowly as my eyes explore every corner of their home. I gaze at the decorations, the shelves brimming with memories, but what impresses me the most is the abundance of photographs.
I quickly approach one of the shelves, stopping my gaze on one of the images.
Picking one up, I observe a younger Marco, appearing to be the same age as Luan now. His happy expression brings an instant smile to my face. I feel my heart start to race.
It's not out of fear, but out of an indescribable feeling that I can't put into words.
Seeing and touching it awakens a subtle envy. The meticulousness of every detail, that sense of belonging that comforts the soul. I put the photo down and continue exploring, noticing how each corner is meticulously organized, with memories adorning every nook.
As I walk through the house, all the noise fades into the background, leaving space for my own thoughts. Wooden tables with embroidered tablecloths, where photographs full of beautiful memories rest.
The walls, which seem to have decorations full of feelings.
Everything my eyes can see is nothing but the home of an ordinary family, where memories flourish. Even I, right now, feel such great pain and happiness.
'Mother Fortuna, Father Geuse...' If only we had created a home like this, if only I had been a good girl.
I would like to remember similar moments in my own childhood, not having made those past mistakes, it's a place that at times I hated, that I now value.
A place that, even if I don't return to, I will remember with all my heart.
Touching an old wall clock, I feel the smoothness of the slightly worn wood under my fingers, remembering that drawing that's in my room. I marvel at every detail, imagining the skilled hands that built it and the ingenuity that conceived it.
I'm exploring the place where Marco grew up, where his most precious memories are.
I turn around, and my eyes catch an object. My excitement grows upon seeing it, I walk quickly, standing in front of it with a big smile.
"A typewriter!" I exclaim fondly, recognizing its similarity to the ones Marco designed.
Marco had told me they used to have one, that his father worked with it until computers arrived.
Seeing this fill me with a certain envy. In the mansion, everything is majestic, full of objects, but it feels so empty at the same time, as if it weren't part of who I am. Instead, here, in this house full of memories and affection, I find a fullness I've never experienced before.
The colloquial decorations, as he usually describes them, and the hundreds of memories adorn every corner, permeating the environment with a palpable sense of history and affection.
As I immerse myself in the cozy atmosphere of the house, a soft flute melody floats in the air, emanating from a magical device somewhere in the room; a stereo, if I remember correctly. It's a classic detail of Marco's mother, he always told me about his mom liked that music.
In the middle of this scene, I can't help but say to myself, 'This house is not a mansion, but at the same time, it's more valuable and spacious for me,' I reflect as I let myself be carried away by the magic of the memories that fill every space.
'I also want to fill a house with memories, photos, objects. I want to travel, explore, and have moments like this. Maybe I should ask Marco to make a camera,' I think, imagining a future shared with him.
I know that, if I ask him, he will start working on it. Now that Betty isn't here, I feel it's my duty to help him keep the essence of this special home alive.
As I walk through the house, my interactions with specific objects awaken deep emotions. My fingers brush against an old photo frame, feeling the smooth texture of the material under my fingertips. 'So that's what plastic feels like.'
Every object seems to whisper a story, every photograph captures a moment in time, and I find myself immersed in a world of shared memories and dreams to be realized.
My eyes stop on a wall covered with photos; a gallery of happy moments frozen in time. From trips to family moments, each image evokes a smile on my face and a warmth in my heart.
"Little Marco is soooo cute!" I exclaim with excitement as I look at the photos, letting myself be carried away by the tenderness that emanates from each image.
My heart skips a beat as I contemplate the innocence in Marco's eyes in those photographs. I feel a tingling sensation throughout my body, a deep longing to be close to him, to share more moments like these together.
Through the images, I can see the potential of our future, full of laughter, adventures, and affection. And at that moment, I know there's no other place in the world I want to be more than here, in this home full of shared memories and hopes with Marco.
'I'm going to save you.'
I look closely at the photo, my eyes fixed on the small eyes of Marco. I place my hand over the photo, feeling the smoothness of the glass and the inevitable passage of time. In that instant, certainty takes over me: 'I really want a camera.'
I want to capture moments to relive them later with the same smile I have now.
Just imagining having a photo of Betty, from that day we went to the Flugel tree, fills me with joy. Photos of the picnic we shared in that beautiful flower field. 'Although I already have the drawing, ha-ha.'
If only I could have photos of Puck while he was training Marco, or special moments with Rem, Lyza, Luan, Crusch, and my other friends. If I could immortalize moments of my life so they never fade from my memory.
I'm sure that, in moments of loneliness, just seeing those photos would dispel the feeling of emptiness.
"Isn't my son the cutest?" I hear a high-pitched voice, typical of someone older.
I jump a little in surprise at recognizing the voice. My hands start to tremble, feeling the nervousness return. I still remember his poem, the pain I felt hearing it.
The figure approaching is of a man with a serious but warm appearance, his face marked by a prominent gray beard and his gaze piercing. His attractive features remind me of Marco. His hair is similar to his son's, though Marco's is brown like his mother's. They both share the same nose and slightly arched eyebrows.
The man advances with a determined step towards me, his eyes shining with a spark of recognition as he sees me. His hand extends in a gesture of greeting, and when I take it, I can feel his firmness and warmth.
I try to bow to greet him, but instead, I am enveloped in a warm hug. I return the gesture, feeling instantly welcomed by his paternal aura.
"Isn't my son the cutest?" he asks with a warm smile, his gaze resting on the photograph of Marco.
I nod with a smile, amazed by the kindness and affection he exudes. His gestures are comforting, his expression understanding.
'This feels so much warmer,' I reflect as I let myself be enveloped by the warmth of his embrace and the familiarity of his presence. I feel like I can talk to him, as if I've known him all my life.
It's magical, there's a special connection in this moment. I saw it during Marco's past, but I never thought the feelings he had then would compare to mine now. He was used to this warmth, while for me, it's the first time experiencing it.
Even in Irlam, people tend to be more reserved.
Although I'm still nervous, my heart is pounding with excitement and nerves. I want to stay and learn more, I want to be here with Puck, Betty, and Marco. Of course, it would be great if we were all together.
"How are you? Has my son caused you any trouble?" his playful question snaps me back to reality.
'What can I answer to that?' I try to think of something, but there's a truth I can't hide.
"I'm fine, thank you. Marco has been great company," I reply sincerely, feeling the initial tension dissipate with every word shared. "Besides, I'm the one who always brings him trouble."
I smile, but momentarily avert my gaze, feeling a slight blush on my cheeks. However, seeing him smile reassures me immediately. His warm and kind expression puts me at ease.
His gaze rests on me, and I can sense the genuine joy in his eyes at my comment.
"Well, then he must be very happy." He directs his attention to a wooden table, with a glass cover and a small white cloth.
He bends down and starts rummaging through the drawers while I keep pondering. I can't help but feel a bit intrigued. 'Why would Marco be happy about that?' Since I met him, I've rarely seen him truly smile.
"Happy?" I ask, intrigued by his response.
After sifting through various papers, he seems to find what he's looking for: a book with a brown cover and a thickness that denotes its substantial content. Trying to read the cover, I can only make out one word: Photos?
He hands me the book, and as I hold it, I feel not only its physical weight but also the emotional burden it carries. It's more than just a book; it's a priceless treasure for those who care.
"Yes, Marco likes to help, maybe a bit too much." He smiles, urging me to look at it.
I start flipping through the book, and my eyes widen in surprise at the first photo. A smile spreads across my face, and for a moment, I forget where I am.
'Baby Marco!'
"Baby Marco!" I exclaim, completely captivated by the image. There are photos of him crying, with his father, with his mother. Despite being somewhat worn and yellowed with age, each one conveys a unique and special feeling.
However, upon reaching a particular photo, my reaction is different. 'He's naked!' I close the book abruptly, feeling the blush flood my cheeks as I realize what the image shows.
"Hahaha!" Marco's father laughs with a contagious laugh, his joy filling the room, making the atmosphere warmer and cozier.
'Why would they keep photos of their naked baby?'
"Sir!" I try to say something, but he keeps laughing heartily.
Caught up in his laughter, I can't help but laugh too. I didn't expect to see Marco naked, even if he was just a baby. I never thought I would react this way; it didn't used to happen before.
"He was quite the model as a kid!" he comments between laughs as I regain my composure. "But don't worry, they're just family memories, nothing to be embarrassed about. You're part of it too, so they're your photos as well."
I strive to smile, trying to downplay my reaction, although I still feel a bit embarrassed inside. I take a deep breath and decide to go with the relaxed atmosphere that has been created.
I wipe my tears, and suddenly, everything inside me becomes clear. I feel how my body and soul merge into one. My heart beats excitedly at the sight of that book.
"Yes, it seems Marco has been a source of joy since he was little," I respond, trying to keep the game going and divert attention from my clumsiness.
I open it again and find photos of Marco in costumes, others at school, even several where he's crying.
'Wow, what a crybaby,' I comment with a laugh as I look at the images.
"He didn't like being alone." His father smiles at me, as if he knows exactly what I'm seeing without needing to look at the photos.
Seeing Marco like that, with his innocent tears and smiles, makes me realize that he's a normal person, capable of inspiring smiles with his mere presence and crying when necessary.
Crusch's words resonate in my soul: "You are the one who can help him."
A feeling of unity and power overwhelms me. I feel alive.
"My son was a crybaby back then," his father comments, with a somewhat confused smile, as he looks at the photos on the wall. It seems his words hide something more.
"But he always looks cute," I exclaim, pointing to a photo where Marco is dressed as a king.
'I'll have plenty to tease him about when we're back at the mansion,' I think to myself, imagining Marco's reaction when I tell him everything.
"He's my son; he'll always be beautiful." His father nods, crossing his arms. The pride in his words and the way he says them make me realize the devotion he feels for Marco.
"It's amazing how photographs can capture such precious moments," I comment, feeling more and more intrigued by Marco's life and family.
Marco's father nods in agreement, sharing my fascination for the memories captured on paper.
"This photo album is special to us; it has all the important moments of Marco's life, from when he was a baby to now. It's our way of keeping memories alive and sharing them with those we care." I watch the photos carefully as he speaks.
Each image tells a story, conveying emotions and memories that transcend time.
Together, we continue flipping through the album, sharing laughs and anecdotes as we explore Marco's past.
At that moment, I realize I'm experiencing a unique connection with Marco's family, a sense of belonging and familiarity that I've never felt before. It's as if, through those photos and laughs, I'm discovering a new home.
"Marco told you not to take that out without him!" Then, as if the aroma of happiness mixes with the aroma of food, Marco's mother appears from the kitchen, looking at Marco's father with some disapproval.
She carries a tray with several dishes and bowls. Then I'm overwhelmed by unfamiliar aromas, scents so soft and warm that I feel like I'm floating.
My stomach starts to move, driven by the excitement of trying something new.
Natural light filters softly through the window, illuminating the table adorned with familiar details. The aroma of coffee fills the air, adding a touch of uniqueness to the atmosphere.
She serves me with a smile, and after thanking her, my eyes rest on the dishes laid out in front of me. The coffee, with its color similar to Marco's hair, makes me think of him instantly.
The bread, with its details on the crust, emits a delicious aroma that awakens my appetite.
"It seems you were hungry." Her kind tone makes me smile, nodding gratefully when she tells me to help myself.
My excited heart can only think about the taste it will have. Despite not knowing anything, it's something Marco constantly enjoyed in this world. Despite that, I never heard him say he got tired of eating it.
He always appreciated all the signs of affection from his parents, even though he said he didn't realize it until he went to my world.
The first thing I take is the cup of coffee, bringing it a bit closer to my nose to smell its aroma. A penetrating, strong, and slightly bitter scent. Marco says that to drink it, you have to smell it first, so I follow his steps.
"Blow on it a little first; it's quite hot," she instructs me with a gentle smile, so I obey and start blowing.
After a few seconds, I move my hands, bringing the coffee to my lips to take a sip, feeling its flavor.
All of a sudden, I feel it, that comforting warmth traveling through my body, sliding down my throat and settling in my heart.
Although I prefer sweet flavors, this coffee makes me feel a sense of peace and warmth that comforts me.
"Is it good?" Marco's father asks, making me nod with delight.
I hold the freshly baked bread in my hands, warm and soft to the touch. It has something on top, but I can't recognize what it is. Its sweet and tempting aroma envelops me, inviting me to take a bite and discover its flavor.
When I take the first bite, my eyes widen. Its softness is undeniable, its flavor, a bit salty and sweet, surprises me when I see there's cheese inside. I close my eyes, marveling at the delicious taste.
"What a delight!" escapes my lips, but I keep smiling. Then I try the coffee, feeling its combination. Both flavors mix, making my mouth delighted.
"It's Marco's favorite bread," Marco's mom points out, while I can't help but keep eating. They both look at me with a smile. By the time I finish, they seem to have finished too.
Marco's mother looks at me with a warm smile, and Marco's father, who seems thoughtful, looks at me with a serious expression.
"Has something happened with our son?" His question catches me by surprise, my eyes widen, remembering that I came with that purpose in mind.
'I almost forgot the reason I came!' I observe the empty plates on the table, while my gaze drifts towards the photos adorning the walls.
At that moment, a feeling of familiarity and belonging invades me, as if this place were my home, as if I were part of this family.
I direct my gaze to one of the photos, where Marco's smile radiates joy and confidence. I feel that image filling me with strength, as if a whirlwind of determination has taken hold of me.
I feel invincible, as if this moment completely belongs to me.
"Yes, you see..." I say, lowering the smile from my face.
Both, with gentle gestures and a compassionate expression, slightly tilt their heads, while they attentively listen to my words, showing their empathy towards their son's situation.
I need to address the reason for my visit without revealing the whole situation. I want to express my concern for Marco, but I know I won't be able to explain everything.
Marco's mother, with a warm smile and a tender gesture, approaches me and offers another cup of her freshly made coffee, it's comforting aroma filling the room, adding an extra layer of warmth and hospitality to the atmosphere.
"Marco is going through a complicated situation," I communicate with determination. "He sees himself as a monster, believes everything he does will end badly. Marco is an important person to me, that's why I want to help him. I want him to open up to me, to open up to the world."
My hands clasp together, holding back the frustration that burns inside me.
Marco's father, with an understanding gesture in his eyes, slowly nods as he listens to my words, showing his support and solidarity towards my concern.
"I tried to help him once and made some progress, but now I don't know how to do it," I confess, feeling tears threatening to escape my eyes. "I just wanted to understand him better, to seek advice from the people he cares most in this world."
Tears start to flow down my cheeks, but they don't make me feel weak. On the contrary, they are the manifestation of my fervent desire to help.
Marco's mother, with caring gestures and a look full of compassion, offers me a handkerchief to dry my tears, while her reassuring expression conveys a sense of support and comfort in this moment of vulnerability.
"I want him to be well, I want to make him smile like in those photos, I want us both to smile together," I express vehemently, intertwining my hands. "I want to see him happy! Despite the difficulties, I want us to face the challenges together and in the end, we can smile."
I lower my gaze, feeling the helplessness of not having all the answers.
Marco's father, with a reflective look and a voice full of hope, shares some words of encouragement and wisdom.
"You are wonderful, much more than I had imagined."
I look at Marco's parents with surprise, who smile at me confidently. They don't seem worried about the situation; on the contrary, they convey a sense of calm.
The soft murmur of the background music envelops the room like a warm blanket, while the intoxicating aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the memories hanging on the walls.
Marco's mother sits next to me, enveloping me in a warm embrace. Her hand gently strokes my head, and although I try to hold back the tears, I can't help but keep crying.
In each gesture of Marco's mother, I find refuge, a warmth that embraces my soul. Her eyes, filled with understanding and empathy, reflect an ocean of feelings that immerse me in her world. Each smile she draws on her face seems tinged with hope, as if it were a beacon guiding our hearts through the storm.
"I think you already have your answer," says Marco's mother, her voice sounds like a soft melody that caresses my ears. "Marco is very intelligent; you could truly describe him as a genius in his way. In the end, everyone has something in which they excel, but they usually don't appreciate it."
I nod with gratitude, letting her words settle in my heart like seeds of hope in fertile ground. I recognize Marco's innate brilliance and the way he has illuminated my life since the first day I met him.
As I listen to her words, I feel the atmosphere become comforting and familiar. Looking me straight in the eyes, she lets everything hidden come to light.
"Our family has a small birth defect; I myself was born with it," confesses his father, his voice trembling slightly, but his eyes shining with determination. "We are not unaffectionate, nor are we proud. We simply find it difficult to express our emotions the same way others do."
My eyes rest on a photo of Marco, full of bruises, but with a smile that shines like the sun on a bright day. The image is my tangible reminder of Marco's strength and courage, even in the darkest moments.
"It's an instinctive fear, a fear of falling prey to emotions, falling prey and not being able to fulfill responsibilities," his father explains, his voice like a whisper that glides softly through the air. "I always believed that with Marco, I could change that. I tried to be the father I didn't have for him, but it seems it will be part of his life."
'Fear?'
'Why would he be afraid to share something with me?' I think to myself, but he seems to read my thoughts.
"You have to understand that it's not because he doesn't want to, it just happens," assures Marco's father.
'Then, there's nothing I can do?' I wonder silently, desperately seeking a solution that seems to slip through my fingers like water from a stream.
"If he can't control it, then, what can I do?" My voice sounds weak, but it's filled with determination and the desire to help Marco find the light in the midst of darkness.
Marco's mother takes my shoulders firmly, her eyes shining with a mixture of understanding and strength that comforts me deeply.
"The answer is quite obvious," she declares, her voice firm as a rock clinging in the midst of the storm. "The entire Luz family suffers from this, but they don't actually suffer in the same way."
Marco's father gives a compassionate smile while nodding his head, his eyes radiating a mix of tenderness and complicity.
I attentively watch as Marco's mother fixes her gaze on mine, as if she could probe my deepest thoughts, anticipating the question I know is about to come.
My hands tense slightly as Marco's mother's soft but penetrating voice fills the room with a palpable expectation.
"Let me ask you a question you might not expect," says Marco's mother, her tone loaded with meaning, as if the words were a hook that firmly captures my attention. "What does Marco represent to you in your heart?"
My heart begins to beat strongly in my chest, like a drum marking the rhythm of my growing nervousness. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to contain the tide of emotions that threatens to overflow.
The question falls on me like a waterfall, submerging me in a whirlpool of thoughts and conflicting feelings.
My breathing becomes erratic, while a knot forms in my throat, making it difficult to speak. I feel exposed, as if I were standing in the middle of a storm without any protection, facing the overwhelming force of my own emotions.
I am not Marco's partner, but his presence occupies a sacred space in my heart. However, defining it with words seems an impossible task.
How can I express what I feel for him when I don't even fully understand my own feelings?
I don't know romantic things in its conventional form, but what I feel for Marco goes beyond any definition I have seen. He is like a lighthouse in the darkness of my life, a light that guides my steps on the stormiest nights, illuminating the darkest corners of my soul with his comforting presence.
"I..." my voice cracks, the words get stuck in my throat as I desperately search for the right ones to express what I feel.
I know Marco is more than a friend, more than a companion. He is my confidant, my unconditional support, the hand that holds mine when the world seems to fall apart around me. His existence fills the voids in my being, completing me in a way I have never experienced.
"I used to be afraid of relationships, feared being rejected for my appearance," I begin to explain, letting my thoughts flow like leaves in the wind. "I thought loneliness would be my eternal companion, that I would never find someone who would accept me as I am."
A shy smile forms on my lips as I remember the moment Marco entered my life. It felt like destiny itself had sent him to rescue me from darkness and despair, like he was the answer to all my silent prayers.
As I recount all this to Marco's parents, I let the warmth of those memories envelop me like a comforting blanket, feeling each word emerge from the depths of my being.
"I desperately longed to have someone by my side, someone who made me feel like I belonged to something," I continue, letting emotion and nostalgia flow through my words like a river winding through my heart. "And Marco, he was always there for me. Always."
A torrent of gratitude and appreciation floods my being as I recall every moment shared with him, every gesture of affection and support he gave me. He is my rock, my anchor in a river of uncertainty and fear.
"Marco is always willing to help those in need," I conclude with a radiant smile, acknowledging the nobility of his heart. "And I am infinitely grateful to have him in my life."
Each moment with Marco is like enjoying a delicious dessert, a cake of joy, every shared moment a testament to the unconditional feeling that binds us. His presence is like a gentle melody caressing my senses.
"Every time he's near, I feel like I'm home, in the place where I belong, in a safe haven where I can be myself without reservations."
I intertwine my fingers, feeling embarrassed by all my thoughts and words. I can't believe I'm capable of expressing myself like this; I hadn't realized I had learned so many words, so many ways to express myself. 'Reading is truly magical.'
Before I know it, I'm smiling, feeling my cheeks and ears burning red hot.
"Every time Marco got angry with me and yelled, it felt like the very sky darkened and the air thickened with tension. He never insulted me and only did it at the beginning, but I still remember it clearly."
It's as if I feared something bad would happen if I didn't follow his steps. His eyes, usually warm, turned cold as winter, and his voice, which used to be my favorite sound of the day, became a thunderclap in my ears. But after the storm, calm always came. And with it, his apologies.
"'I'm so sorry, Emilia. I didn't want us to end like this,' he would say softly, looking at me with eyes full of regret, all the while holding something in his hands."
Like a magician conjuring a spell to restore peace, Marco would appear with a gesture of reconciliation, whether it was a steaming plate of my favorite food or a smile that could melt the hardest of hearts.
"I never received special treatment." I immediately reject that idea with a shake of my head because deep inside resonates the hidden truth. "No... his treatment was so exceptional that it completely enveloped me, making me unable to see beyond him."
When I was upset, Marco had the ability to transform my discontent into happiness. With just a look or a loving gesture, he could calm the internal storms threatening to overflow. His mere presence was enough to make me feel at home, even in the most turbulent moments of my life.
"'I would recognize your hands even without touching you,' he murmured with a smile, revealing his complicity in discovering my identity blindfolded once during his birthday celebration."
In that moment, I knew he truly saw me, beyond appearances, beyond the masks we all wear. And in his eyes, I found the acceptance and appreciation for which I had always longed.
Even though Marco never considered himself someone who treated me in a special way, for me, he was always unique. Every gesture, every word, every look filled with tenderness and hope reminded me how lucky I was to have him by my side.
"He is part of my world, who expanded the universe around me, and there is nothing in this vast cosmos that can compete with his brilliance." I smile, remembering that time when the Puck constellation was created.
I can remember it, the central star that, with a fleeting thought, I could name.
"Marco Luz is the star that has illuminated my life the most."
Marco's parents look at me with tenderness, and a small smile forms on my lips as I feel their support. A glimmer of nostalgia crosses my gaze as I continue.
"I remember one particular time when Marco worked so hard in the kitchen to prepare us a delicious meal." I look up at the roof, feeling the warmth of that moment in my heart. "His hands danced among the ingredients with skill. I admire his ability and dedication, and I feel blessed to have him by my side."
A tear forms at the corner of my eye, but I brush it away with a determined gesture before continuing. The memory of every moment shared with Marco overwhelms me with a mix of gratitude.
"And I can't forget the times I've seen him working passionately in his office," I whisper with reverence, as if seeing the true colors for the first time. "His commitment and determination are more than admirable; they are inspiring. Every time I see him giving his all to his work, I feel a spark ignite within me, reminding me that success is achieved through effort and giving me an unwavering determination to keep going."
Difficult moments are part of life, but Marco is always there to be my rock, to hold me up when I feel everything is against me. Another tear escapes my eyes as I continue, letting my emotions flow freely. His unconditional support is my salvation in the midst of the storm, and thanks to him, I can overcome obstacles that once seemed insurmountable.
"I clearly remember the time when I couldn't get Marco out of my head, when every thought, every dream, every sigh was dedicated to him." I can still feel the weight of those days in my heart. "His presence is like the sun that illuminates my existence, and the idea of a world without him is inconceivable to me."
Another tear rolls down my cheek as I try to put into words everything I feel, my heart pounding in my chest like a bird trying to escape its cage.
"Although I make mistakes and sometimes cause him pain, I now understand that these experiences make us stronger," my voice sounds firm, filled with determination. "And even though the road is not always easy, I know that as long as we are together, we can overcome any obstacle that comes our way."
Something that used to go unnoticed inside me is now becoming more apparent. I can feel it growing, becoming more present, like a seed finally sprouting and blooming.
"Because what Marco has given me is what I've always longed for: unconditional attention that transcends time and space and makes me feel whole."
I look at both of them, allowing my determination to shine in my eyes, making it clear how proud I am to share this moment with them.
"I long to share both his sorrows and his joys," I express firmly, feeling the warmth spread across my cheeks, and the words flow naturally. "I want Marco to share my pain as much as my happiest moments."
My hands, pale as snow, tremble slightly as I think of holding his, feeling how the emotion envelops me completely. 'I must be as red as a tomato,' I think to myself with a nervous smile.
"Talking about him gives me a renewed energy, and remembering him inspires me to keep going," I confess sincerely, allowing my emotions to flow freely. "His mere presence has the power to transform my mood and give me the strength to face any challenge."
I close my eyes for a moment, diving into the depth of my feelings, before continuing.
"When he is sad or anxious, I feel it deep within me," I say with conviction, recalling every occasion when we shared both joy and sorrow. "I don't know when or how it started, but I become sad and anxious with him, as if our emotions were somehow inseparably intertwined."
Even my vocabulary and expressions have changed just by being around him. I want to be by his side in every moment, both in happy times and difficult ones. And I know for sure that together we can overcome any obstacle that stands in our way.
The change I've experienced, both positive and negative, has been shaped by him. Although at first I felt overwhelmed by his presence, I now understand that it has been an opportunity to grow and accept myself.
"I've learned that affection is the most powerful force there is," I say with conviction, letting my words resonate in the air. "And I am determined to help him overcome his fears and self-loathing because I know that together we can achieve the happiness we both deserve."
With palpable determination, I look into their eyes, both still smiling, their melancholic gaze making me genuinely happy. They are connected with me, despite everything, despite not knowing them. I know there is a feeling that connects us.
"I aspire to be his rock in moments of bitterness, to lift him when he needs it, and simply to be present when he requires my company," I add with determination, evoking with affection every gesture and tenderness we have shared.
Then, I say it:
"I love him more than words can express."
As I finish saying those words with determination, I realize the weight they carried. My hands tremble, unable to contain the emotion bubbling within me. 'Did I say that out loud?'
Before I can fully process what I've done, I feel the comforting embrace of Marco's mother enveloping me. Her warm, welcoming gesture fills me with an overwhelming happiness, as if all the struggles and tough times have been worth it.
"Huh?" Tears start to overflow from my eyes, but this time they aren't tears of sadness or distress. They are tears of relief, of release, of pure happiness.
My heart pounds in my chest, but it's a force full of love and joy. It's like by saying those words, I released a part of myself that had been locked away for too long.
'Is this what it feels like?' I wonder silently, looking at my trembling hands.
The love I feel for Marco expands within me like a flower blooming in spring, filling every corner of my being with its sweet fragrance. It's a love that transcends words and actions, a love so deep and genuine that it doesn't need to be explained.
The comforting hug from Marco's mother makes me feel even more loved and accepted. It's a reminder that I'm not alone on this journey, that there are people who support and love me unconditionally.
When I tilt my face, I see silver strands waving in the wind, like threads of silver woven by fate. My heart beats strongly, like a drum at this mistake.
'Have I become myself again?'
I feel a mix of fear and anticipation, as if I'm standing at the edge of an abyss, about to step into the unknown. My hands grip my clothes, seeking some sign of normality amid the strangeness surrounding me, like a castaway searching for a lifeline in a sea of uncertainty.
'My normal clothes, it can't be!'
I look at Marco's parents, hoping to find some reaction on their faces, but I only find calm and serenity in their gazes, like beacons of light in the midst of a storm.
"I!" I exclaim, trying to contain the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm me, like a raging river struggling to contain its flow.
I cover my face with my hands, feeling reality crumble around me, like a house of cards struck by an unrelenting wind.
When I look up, I find their eyes fixed on me, full of understanding and unconditional love, like two stars guiding my way in the darkness of night. There's no rejection or surprise in their gestures, only acceptance, as if they had known this secret from the beginning.
"Since when am I like this?" I ask, my voice trembling, reflecting the uncertainty I feel inside, like a leaf quivering in the wind on an autumn day.
My parents exchange a knowing look before letting out a small laugh, like they are sharing a secret between them, like two conspirators planning a prank.
"Since you mentioned the kitchen," Marco's mother responds with a warm smile, while his father nods in agreement.
Confusion takes hold of me. 'How can they be so calm about this situation?' I wonder, my lips trembling with nerves.
"Can you tell us your name?" Marco's father asks, his soft, comforting voice helping to calm me a bit, like a balm soothing the wounds of the soul.
"E-Emilia," I reply, feeling the pressure of their gazes on me.
They are definitely Marco's parents.
A sense of relief washes over me when I see their smiles don't disappear but grow wider, like a garden blooming under the warm sunlight.
"It's a pleasure, Emilia. The way you dress, you look like an angel," Marco's father comments with palpable tenderness in his words, followed by the loving smile of Marco's mother.
I nod gratefully, feeling the weight of the situation lighten a bit with their warmth, as if an invisible burden is lifted from my shoulders.
"Do you want to know why we're not so surprised?" his mother asks, her voice serious but also containing restrained curiosity, like a mystery waiting to be revealed.
My eyes widen at her question, preparing for any revelation, like an explorer venturing into the unknown.
"When we had Marco, he was born dead," Marco's father begins, his trembling voice revealing the emotional weight of his memories, his tears flowing from the depths of his being. "At that moment, my wife was in the ICU, fighting for her life. I felt like my world was falling apart around me. I was never very religious, but in that instant, I clung to any hope that could save the two loves of my life, like a shipwrecked sailor clinging to a piece of wood in the middle of the ocean."
His eyes reflect the shared pain of those dark moments, like two mirrors reflecting the same image.
"I was alone in the hospital reception, feeling completely lost. Then, I found this necklace," he says, pulling a bluish necklace from his neck.
My eyes widen in surprise as I recognize the pyroxene crystal he holds between his fingers, like a forgotten treasure brought back to light after centuries of darkness.
"Can you believe it appeared right in front of me?" he continues, with amazement still palpable in his voice. "I felt it was a gift from fate, an opportunity to bring my son back, like a divine sign in the midst of despair."
The crystal's glow slowly fades, but its meaning endures through time, like a shooting star leaving its mark in the sky.
"When I placed this crystal on Marco's chest, something incredible happened," he continues, a spark of excitement in his eyes. "A bright light flooded the room, and suddenly, my son started crying. It was like a miracle, something great that no one could explain."
A sense of wonder and gratitude fills me as I listen to his parents' story. Now, more than ever, I feel the weight of the connection that binds us, a force that transcends the supernatural and unites us in an unbreakable bond, like an invisible thread linking our hearts forever.
"I realized that my son might have a destiny beyond what he could have if he hadn't been born dead. His arrival brought me a renewed sense of purpose, an understanding that even in tragedy there can be a hidden purpose, a light that guides our steps in the darkness." He hands me the necklace, I try to use Mana, but there's no reaction. "When I told him, he didn't believe me, but your presence makes me understand that destiny is already happening, that the threads of fate are woven in mysterious and complex ways, and that perhaps only now are we beginning to see their true design."
Marco was connected to my world from birth, as if he were destined to play a crucial role in the tapestry of existence, a vital piece completing the puzzle of life.
I thought my world had ruined everything, that all the bad happened because of my world's existence. However, I was deeply mistaken. My world was the silent savior that rescued him from death.
"It doesn't matter if it's in this or another world as described in stories and novels, I believe fate will always take us where we belong." His proud gaze comforts me, his strength undoubtedly immense.
His faith in his son is palpable, an unbreakable bond transcending time and space.
"I'm not going to ask what happened, there's not much time. I know you can help my son; I have no doubt about that." He hands me a blank sheet, making me look at him curiously, wondering what mysteries await in the blank pages of destiny.
The world starts to fade, as if time is running out.
"What are you going to paint on your canvas?" His question makes me smile, as I already know the answer, a truth resonating deep within me, a certainty lighting the path ahead.
I look at the sheet, a blank sheet. I could describe myself on it, but using only words would be wrong. I am me; this sheet is just a sheet. If I want to see beyond, if I want to look forward, I must add the colors of experience, the shadows and lights that give depth to my story.
I look at him with determination, with my answer ready, ready to paint it on the canvas of life, ready to leave my mark on the world.
"I don't know!" I smile broadly, proud to answer his question, embracing uncertainty with courage and creativity. "I'll use all the colors, some parts dark, others light. Some parts sad, others joyful, I'll put everything I have into it and simply enjoy the result, a masterpiece of intertwined emotions reflecting my true self. I don't know what the result will be, of course."
I'll place the colors chasing my happiness, ensuring the final result pleases me, whatever it may be, because in every brushstroke I'll find the beauty of life, the magic of creation, and the freedom to be myself in a world full of possibilities.
They both smile, running to hug me, a hug bringing with it the warmth of love and gratitude, a silent expression of the connection we share, a family united by bonds stronger than destiny itself.
"Take care of Marco, my son has a heart too big, but at the same time, darkness seeps in easily." I feel their warmth, feel the love they transmit, a comforting energy filling me with determination and purpose. "You are wonderful, truly, we have no words to describe how happy we are to meet you, to have the certainty you'll be there for him when he needs you most."
I nod, tears of joy running down my cheeks, tears speaking of gratitude and hope, of a new beginning full of promises and infinite possibilities.
"You already have your answer, but I haven't told you anything yet, so let me give you one last piece of advice, something I'd like you to remember us by." He smiles, and despite my tears, I maintain my growing smile, a smile that lights the path ahead, a light in the darkness guiding us toward a future full of hope and love.
"In the eternal dance between darkness and light, we find our truth. Do not fear the shadows; they are merely the canvas on which our inner light paints its path. Every color, every pattern, every choice is part of the art within you. In this way, darkness is not an enemy but a silent companion that allows us to appreciate the beauty of light. Just as stars shine brighter at night, our actions and decisions define our existence."
All I have to do is be myself. I understand now. I know what my purpose is, what role I must play in this intertwined universe of destinies and emotions.
"Thank you! Truly!" I exclaim fervently, feeling my heart clench at the thought of never seeing them again. "Thank you for loving me! Thank you for accepting me into your life! Truly..." I feel my breath hitch, a mix of undeniable pain and happiness overwhelming my feelings. "Even though I just met you, I know you are wonderful. Your love, so pure and genuine, will transcend all barriers to reach your son."
No matter how much I change, I will continue to be Emilia so that he can continue to be Marco. I hug them firmly, trying to retain every detail of their faces in my mind, every beat of their hearts that pulses in harmony with mine.
In that embrace, our destinies intertwine, merging into a single purpose, into a promise that admits no hesitation.
"I promise I will save your son from himself."
Before leaving, I pause for a moment to look at the house one last time, letting every corner imprint itself on my memory as an indelible memory.
After a bright flash that seems to illuminate the deepest parts of my being, I close my eyes. When I finally open them again, the gray walls of the room are all I see around me.
But even this gray environment seems to take on a new luminosity, as if destiny itself is weaving a new tapestry of possibilities before my eyes. I rise from the floor with a feeling of renewal, understanding that I am no longer the same person who walked through that door.
'Yes, I can change. I can shape my future with my own hands.' Determination shines in my gaze, reflecting the glow of a new hope that breaks through the shadows of the past.
I will stop worrying about what was and focus on what I am. I will follow the path I choose, with firm steps and a brave heart.
"Changing doesn't mean I stop being myself, just as I won't change what defines me." I clench my hands with determination, fixing my gaze on the exit. "Being myself is the greatest privilege I can grant myself, so I will continue to be who I am; a burning potential that has just been awakened, ready to face any challenge that comes my way."
I will save you, Marco luz.
I will do it.
Because my name is Emilia.