The Sixth | Ekko

Chapter Sixty-One

Questions.

He should've had so many of them.

Maybe he did but was unable to decipher what any of them were in the astonishment of it all.

Her hair. It was fully plum coloured now. Her skin was tanner. She looked... healthy. And somehow taller—like she was in the alternate reality.

"Momo..." he repeated, his voice fraying. Her face grew murky through newly forming tears. His heart constricted in his chest, while his grip on her shoulders lessoned, arms suddenly gone heavy. "Am I dreaming?"

"Ekko..." Momo whispered, the only word she was able to utter.

He'd found her.

While she'd imagined this moment countless times before, it did nothing to prepare her for the look of agony on his face. The changes in his appearance were obvious—lines of exhaustion on his face, a new grey hue to his complexion, multiple dreadlocks having fallen from his bun that he hadn't bothered to fix.

"I'm sorry—I'm sorry—I'm so sorry," she said hoarsely, her bottom lip trembling as the burning threat of her own tears stung her eyes. "I'll explain everything—"

The sensation of his fingers creeping across her cheeks stole her ability to finish. His thumb stroked the side of her face, moving past the lobes of her ears to make their way down her neck, then back to her cheeks again. "You're real... It's really you... You're here."

She reached up one of her hands, pressing it atop his. "I am," she said, her eyes falling closed and consequently pushing her tears past her waterline and down her face. When she opened them again, she saw he was looking down at her lips and slowly leaning forward.

Her lips parted just in time for him to catch them with his own.

She froze as his lips touched hers, unsure if she deserved this with him. He had thought she was dead for seven months. She allowed him to think she was dead. Left him to mourn someone who was actually alive. It was cruel, even if she didn't have much say in the matter.

But the thought of rejecting him brought a type of guilt that surpassed those feelings.

The initial tension in her lips melted, and she returned his kiss.

It was unrushed, their mouths moving with the gradualness of fog slivering onto the shore with the tide.

Her hands dropped to his shirt, her fingers wringing through the fabric, ensuring that he was tangible and this wasn't some trick of the mind.

He was here.

So was she.

Together again.

His fingers shifted to caress her ears, his thumbs lightly brushing against her cheekbones. His tongue poked at her lower lip and made its way into her mouth, where it slid against hers.

Their desperation grew, and Ekko pulled away abruptly to shed his (her) jacket, pausing afterwards to look at her again.

She looked at him like she was afraid.

Her mind raced ahead to the near future if they were to continue. She would be faced with a vital decision. Tell him everything—about Daunter having his parents, risking him becoming reckless in his pursuit to save them—or keep it a secret and return to Daunter when everything was said and done.

His hands were on her face again, pulling her focus back to him. "I'm sorry—I'm sorry I wasn't there when the Vatalia—"

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer to her; the action so rushed his chest collided with hers. She kissed him before another word could be said—before her mind could race again and ruin this moment with him.