Brighter Than the Stars

Nicole - The Future

I slammed my book so hard down on the table that Leo looked up, and I flinched. "Sorry. I didn't mean...it's just been a long day."

"I know." I sat down next to him and dropped my head on his shoulder. He kissed my temple, and put his arm around my shoulders. "During the meeting, when Princess Annalisa pulled out that poster, you stiffened. You don't have to tell me, but if something's wrong, then I'd like you to. Even if it's not now."

"I know, I know..." I chewed on my pinkie nail. I'd been hoping that he hadn't noticed, even though I knew Annabelle had. "It's just...that poster–I don't think it should have been dismissed. It looks like his handiwork, and if you look at the posters and things that were hung up or in newspapers while he was here in Itari–Madeline has a few in her office–they look exactly the same. I'm probably just overreacting, I'm always just overreacting, but it unsettles me, I guess."

"You're not overreacting. That's pretty reasonable. If you're worried, then we'll look into it." He rubbed my shoulder. "I don't like the idea of it, either–or how vulnerable Annalisa seems."

The Princess was basically hero-worshipped by Atala, and viewed almost as a goddess. She was pretty, sure, but it seemed like she'd been told nothing for that for all of her life. She was supposed to be running the government, but I wondered how much she actually did. Before her mother had fallen 'sick' (which really just meant she gave up and gave into her temper), Annalisa had had the bare minimum of training, probably not enough to take control of the throne. She was an icon, and almost a legend to her people, but nothing more.

While Aeloni and Itari had both been hit hard by economic crashes in the last few years, it was Atala that was truly vulnerable now, with no true leader. And I could easily see how my father might want to take advantage of that, and would twist the story to his own ideals–that he deserved Atala, that it was rightfully his as my mom's birthplace. It seemed stupid to me–who deserved a country?--but that's how he worked. In his mind, there was nothing he didn't deserve.

"Sorry," I whispered. "Are you mad at me?"

"Mad at you?" Leo turned to look at me, and I immediately directed my gaze to the floor. "Nicole, look at me." When I didn't, he gently pushed up my chin with his fingers. "What's wrong? Why would I be mad at you? First of all, I'm not, but if you think I am, for whatever reason, I want you to talk to me about it so we can figure it out. I'm not going to yell, or anything like that. I promise."

"Sorry. I don't know. I feel like you are, I guess, or like you're going to be any minute. I don't know, I don't know..."

"If I am ever mad at you, for whatever reason–and I'm not saying that's likely, because it's not–I'm not going to try and mess with you. If I'm mad, I'll tell you; I'm not going to try and make you guess or draw it out just to make you uncomfortable. So, no, I'm not mad at you at all." He pulled me back close to him and I didn't resist. "What made you think I was?" I hesitated, and he added, "I'm not asking to mock you. If you don't know that's okay, too. I'm asking because I want to know so we can fix whatever it was in the future."

"I don't know. I guess when you were packing up today, you did it...angrily. I'm sorry, I know that makes no sense. Now that I'm saying it out loud it sounds so stupid–it is stupid–I don't know why I thought that." My chest felt tight, riddled with knots. I wished I'd just shut up and told him it was nothing. It was nothing, and I was overreacting. I was an idiot.

"I promise I wasn't, and I never will do anything like that. That's not fair to you, for one–you shouldn't be expected to have to guess. And I'd rather talk to you." He paused for a moment. "I can't pretend to understand how your thought process works, and I don't always know what to say, but I do try. I know it's hard, and I know you don't always want to, but you did talk to me, and I'm proud of you for it. I really, really do try to understand you, and I'm sorry if there are times where it seems like I just can't get it–and maybe I won't be able to, fully. But I want you to try to explain it to me, because I want to work with you."

"But you shouldn't have to. I'm not a child, and I'm not your responsibility. I shouldn't be. I can take care of myself–or I should be able to. It's not fair to you to have to be worrying about yourself and me. You should get to have your own life and do your own thing and all of that. It's not fair."

"Nicole, I do have my own life, and I get to do everything I want. But–and I'm serious–I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know it's early and things change, and I don't want to scare you. There's no pressure at all, and I don't want you to worry about any of that. The thing is, you're not the deadweight you think you are." He pointed to the scar over his eye. "I struggle with this–I still struggle with it, if I'm being honest–and who helped me back from that? Who helped me through every single exercise imaginable and was there when I felt like I couldn't do it anymore and cried? It was you, so don't you dare try and take any meaning out of that, because it meant the world to me. You mean the world to me. If you fall, I'm going to catch you, and I know you'd do the same for me."

I heard thunder rumble in the distance, and tried not to tense. While I hated the connotation that went with thunderstorms for me, even the sky screamed sometimes. I leaned back against Leo, who was solid and warm and always there–even when I told him I hated him and the rest of the world, and cried far too often in his presence. That counted for something, at least, even though he deserved so much more than me because he was Leo. I never thought about the future, because I'd grown accustomed to not having one. Before, I'd thought I'd be dead–wished I was dead. Now...I just didn't think, because what other option was there for me? But Leo thought about it, and clearly envisioned something more for me than blank white space.

I didn't know if I could. I'd never seen anything else, never even tried to look past tomorrow. Back home, tomorrow meant new mistakes and new wounds, whatever the type. His words scared me more than I wanted to admit, because how did I fit into his? How could I ever fit into his? When I thought about Leo's future, I thought about his perfect wife and perfect children (children I wasn't even sure I wanted to have, because I would mess up a child so horribly, and nobody deserved that) and his sister, mom, and dad with him...and without me. I'd never even thought to hope for me to appear in that future, because that would mess it up. And Leo didn't deserve that.

"You're too stubborn," I muttered. "I gave up on me a long time ago, and you should, too."

"But I won't. Ever. And I don't want you to give up on you, either. You're beautiful and strong and smart–and I want you to see that more than anything. I want you to see you for you, Nicole Juliette."

Word Count: 1,352