Souls Through Time (EzioxOC/DesmondxOC)

Chapter 31 - Claire

November 28th 2012

Claire stood alone in the quiet temple chamber, her fingers absently tracing the faint lines on her wrists. Though the scars had long since faded to thin, nearly invisible lines, they were etched into her memory, reminders of a past life that felt as close as it did distant. It had been ten days since her sparring match with Desmond, yet each day seemed to add weight to her thoughts, like layers of sediment settling and revealing memories she hadn't realized were so close to the surface.

The memory had come back to her unexpectedly, uninvited yet vivid, forcing her to confront the darkness she'd tried so hard to keep buried. Those early days—nights filled with terror, the hollow ache of grief, and the numbness that had once consumed her. She'd nearly let it swallow her whole, nearly given in to the voice that told her there was no escape. The scars, though almost invisible now, were like whispers, faint but insistent, echoes from a time when she'd felt utterly alone.

Lost in thought, she didn't hear the soft footsteps behind her until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped slightly, startled from her reverie, and turned to see Paul standing there, his expression both curious and concerned. His gaze drifted to her hands, still resting over her wrists, and she saw something flash in his eyes—recognition, a shared memory.

"Those scars," he murmured, his voice low but steady. His hand remained on her shoulder, grounding her in the present. "It's been a long time since I've seen you looking at them like that."

Claire looked down, the familiar feeling of vulnerability creeping up, but this was Paul. He'd seen her at her most broken, had sat beside her through some of her darkest nights. There was no hiding from him.

"They don't hurt," she replied quietly, more to herself than to him. Her fingers grazed the thin lines one last time before she let her hands fall to her sides. "It's just... sometimes, it all comes back."

Paul's expression softened, a mix of empathy and something else—an emotion that seemed to weigh heavily on him, as though the memory wasn't just hers to bear. He took a deep breath, the silence stretching between them as he gathered his words. "You know," he started, his gaze drifting slightly as he searched for the right way to say it. "That night... I don't think I've ever told you how scared I was. Aiden too. You were barely holding on, and I thought..." His voice broke off, and he swallowed, his eyes clouding with the weight of a memory he'd clearly carried with him all this time.

Claire looked up at him, caught off guard by the rawness in his tone. She'd never really considered what that night had been like for him and Aiden—she'd been so lost in her own pain, her own world of darkness, that she hadn't realized they might have been suffering in their own way, carrying their own fears and burdens.

"I thought you were going to die on my watch," Paul said, his voice thick with an emotion he rarely allowed to surface. "I couldn't sleep for nights after that. Every time I closed my eyes, I'd see you, sitting there with that knife, that hollow look in your eyes. And I couldn't shake it—the fear that I'd lose you, that I'd let you slip away." His hand slid from her shoulder, his fingers curling into a loose fist as if he were holding onto something fragile and precious. "I've never been that scared in my life, Claire. Never."

The admission hung in the air, raw and unfiltered, and for a moment, she was speechless, unsure of how to respond. She could see the memory etched into his expression, the shadow of a night that had scarred them both in different ways.

"Paul..." she whispered, the weight of his words settling over her, stirring up emotions she'd tried so hard to bury. "I didn't know." She swallowed, trying to process the depth of his fear, the reality that her pain had affected them as deeply as it had affected her. She'd been so wrapped up in her own suffering that she hadn't realized they'd been right there with her, holding her steady even when she couldn't hold herself.