Amelie
I could feel the tension in the air the moment Yuto stepped into my dorm room. It wasn't just the remnants of our awkward dinner—the way I had lingered too long over every laugh, every glance. No, it was something heavier, a weight of unspoken words pressing down on us, crackling like static before a storm.
"Is everything okay?" I asked, trying to shake the feeling. His back was turned to me as he set down his backpack, the lines of his shoulders taunt with unvoiced concerns.
He turned, and for a moment, a flicker of something passed through his eyes—was it worry, curiosity, or perhaps a deep-seated urge to protect? I hated that it made my heart flutter when it should have made me run for the hills.
"Yeah, just... thinking," he replied, smoothing his hand over the back of his neck. There was something haunting behind his words, a shadow dancing across his features, and I felt a compulsion to bridge the gap.
"My dad used to say that thinking too much can get you in trouble." I tried to lighten the mood, a playful note in my voice. "Especially with fates—everyone has a story they didn't want to share." I could see him soften at my attempt to inject some ease, but the heaviness remained.
"Did something come up?" he asked, probing, that tension renewed.
I swallowed hard, the truth trembling on my tongue, fighting between wanting to confide in him and the self-preservation that sprang from years of burying painful memories. But the moment felt pivotal; I could feel a chasm opening between us, threatening to swallow my hopes whole if I didn't cross it.
"Actually," I began slowly, measuring my words, "there's something I've not really talked about." I watched his expression shift to one of serious attention, maybe too serious. Maybe if I tell him this, I could break some walls. "When I was a kid... I was kidnapped."
I hadn't planned to drop that bombshell so abruptly, but the idea of him knowing everything—you know, the real me—made it spill from my lips. His face dropped, a mixture of shock and confusion cloaking his features but a part of me thinks it looked planned. Not truly surprised.
"Kidnapped?" His voice was barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loudly would make the memory too real.
"Yeah. It was... it was a while ago," I continued, forcing myself to focus on the words rather than how uncomfortable the memory made me. "I was six, and my family was visiting some relatives. One minute I was playing in the backyard—it was sunny, I can still remember the way the grass felt under my palms—and the next, I was gone."
Yuto's eyes widened, and for a moment, I was afraid I'd gone too far, too fast. But he didn't look away; instead, it was as if he was leaning in, desperate for more of my story.
"Did they find you quickly?" he asked, the tension in his voice palpable. "I mean, what happened?"
I took a deep breath, letting the memories wash over me. "Not really. I was missing for a week. They'd gotten a tip about where I was kept, but..." I choked on my words for a second, flashes of dark rooms and muffled voices creeping back in. "They didn't know where to look until they got lucky."
He swallowed hard, the color draining from his cheeks as if I were delivering each word with a hammer. "And after? How did you cope?"
"Yuto," I said, my voice firmer, but with the underlying tremor of fear lingering. "It's not some puzzle to solve. I didn't come out of this with neatly tied up answers."
"You're right," he conceded, but his eyes were sparkling with a mixture of emotions I couldn't quite decipher. "But... what about the people who took you? Did they—"
"Yuto!" I interrupted, the sudden realization that he was dissecting my experience struck me hard. I crossed my arms, feeling defensive, as if he were probing a wound that I'd worked so hard to heal. "You're asking a lot of questions. This isn't an investigation; can't we just..." I faltered, weighing my next words carefully, "...just talk about it without feeling like you need to pull everything out of me?"
His demeanor shifted as confusion masked his features. "I-I wasn't trying to pray," he replied. "But I just want to understand. I want to be there for you."
"But it's not that simple!" I threw my hands up in frustration. "I don't want it to define me. I don't want some tragic backstory to be the reason you care, Yuto."
"I do care, Amelie," he said softly, stepping closer to me. "That reality you faced... it's hard. I just want to make sure you're okay."
I wanted so badly to believe him, but the distance between our experiences felt like a chasm I couldn't quite bridge. "I'm okay, Yuto," I said, my voice steady now, though my heart was racing. "I've dealt with it. I'm here. But sometimes I just want to be more than my past. I want us to be about what's happening now, not what happened then."
He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, contemplating. "You're right," he finally said, and for a moment, the burden of awkwardness lifted. "I'm sorry if I put too much pressure on you. I just..." he paused, his gaze penetrating my defenses, "I just wanted to protect you."
"I know," I replied, my voice softer now, and somehow, the walls I had put up began to feel a little less imposing. "I want you to be part of my life, but I need you to see me, Amelie, not just the girl once taken."
He nodded slowly, the last of the storm dissipating in his eyes, and your smile finally broke through the remnants of tension. "Then let's just look forward instead."
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A/N:
Huh, I wonder why Yuto was prying sm?? 👀👀
Thank you for all the support!
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