Reminders by TeraS

I’m taking a one week break from Tina’s story here on the Tale. I will return to her story next week. The story this week won’t explain why that is; it’s not meant to. But it is meant to be a …

By TeraS

For Alei …

Time is neither a person nor a creature. It is the result of such things that mortal beings, whomever or whatever they are, use to mark the point at which they are existing. The singular thing about the marking of time’s passage is the events that come and go, the moments we remember long after, and the effects that come.

Insignificant events can lodge in our thoughts at the most odd moments, transporting us back to when things were as they once were. The mists of time bring such a moment into the here and now and the one who remembers cannot help her smile. They were both so young then, futures unwritten, their stories still to be told. It was stories, after all, that provided the moment in which their lives crossed.

It’s a bit melancholy, she has to admit to herself, to lookback at what they’d started with and where things went from there. But there’s one story, begun so long ago, that the ebon-maned woman had never shared with the blonde she loves from afar. Still unfinished, much like the stories their lives tell with the passage of time, but perhaps there comes a point when the story need not be finished to be told.

She adored the blonde angel from afar for some time before the Goddess conspired for them to cross paths and have their first hello. The story started from that tentative first step, moving towards something of a mutual attraction between them. Every time the angel was flustered, the red-tail just adored her that little bit more. The quirks were especially delightful and one of those would lead to a truth shared between them.

She knew full well that the angel was a bit scattered, a little lost in her path towards the future. The most telling thing was that every time she started reading the book for angels, it was upside down, and every time the red-tail could, she turned the book about for the angel to read. A simple gesture perhaps, one made with the knowledge that the angel would learn that little bit more, grow that smidgen more, take another small tentative step towards becoming what she truly was, even if the angel couldn’t see it herself. We are, after all, our own worst critics, as the so-green-eyed member of the succubi was very much aware. In one of those moments, where the angel was lost and unsure, the truth was revealed to both.

The first words were telling for the angel as her blue eyes looked into the green of her friend: “I believe in you, Alei.” She wasn’t sure how to reply to that, finding her words stilled by a fingertip being drawn over the bridge of her nose. “We all stumble. We aren’t any of us perfect.”

Alei didn’t express her thoughts that her friend with the red horns and tail was perfect in her own way. But her friend placed a hand in hers and continued: “You, dearest Alei, inspire me.” The blush on the angel’s cheeks was, to her friend, adorably cute. “I believe in how amazing you are, I believe in your passion, your strength, and, yes, your wisdom. I believe in you.”

They’d never spoken of things beyond their newfound friendship to this moment, it all being still too raw and new for them both. It was still a new experience for the angel to be close to her friend, being flustered more than usual when she was being teased. Her halo turning orange and, on occasion, burning was a newfound experience. The first time her friend had put a cardboard halo on a stick in her own mane of wild hair and it exploded into flames, was one of the delights they’d shared in laughter.

She didn’t expect her friend to come closer, to bring her lovely red lips to her own coral-coloured pair. She didn’t expect the whisper meant for her alone: “I love you, Alei.” She didn’t expect how her breath caught at the admission revealed, their kiss tentative, exploring, hesitant before they parted.

Her eyes were wet as Alei found her voice: “I love you, Tera.” She’d said the truth held within from the moment the angel had seen her from afar. She’d hoped that her friend felt as she did, the hints and teasing between them being the means to open each other to the truth they shared. That truth carried forwards through the years that followed and will follow.

With time comes moments where one or the other would stumble. Their doubts would seep in. With each would come the knowledge that the other was there, waiting, arms open to comfort, to bring a smile, to remind that they were not alone–nor would ever be–to say the words: “Believe in yourself:” three not so small words when one’s world is in turmoil, words that matter when we need them the most.

Why is the story unfinished? There are always moments when we wonder if we matter to someone. Perhaps the reminder to each that they do is what matters as their story continues to be told.

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