Rayne Drops (FFXV)

XXXVII) Final Days

~Four Months Before~

My legs are weak, made of sickly sweet gelatin. My insides are a colony of butterflies, tearing and clawing at the lining of my stomach. My eyes are blurred, shielded from clarity through contact lenses made from tinted glass. I'm nothing if not weak.

The world's spinning as I race up the stairwell to the fifth floor of Caelum Cove's towering apartment building. By the time I reach the top step, bits of rock and plastic are buried in my palms from the sheer number of times I lose my balance. Taking a deep breath, I hurry to brush my hands off on my pants and step up to Wyn's door. The curved digits of iron seem to mock me with each twist that makes up the number 534.

Shaking my head, I reach down to grip his cold doorknob and twist sharply, stepping inside without so much as a knock. I don't bother to kick my boots off by the door; I wait for the approaching footsteps to locate me without budging an inch. I don't know that I can budge an inch.

"You're back already?" Wyn greets warmly, smiling at me. His crosses his arms, tapping a black spatula against his elbow. It's then that I realize the wonderful smell filling my nose. This guy won't make it easy, will he? "Not that I'm disappointed. I'm just finishing breakfast."

"You made some for me?" I ask with a frown.

"I thought I might as well," he shrugs, leading the way back to the kitchen. Grinning at me, he reaches up to push his light hair out of his face. "I don't care if I have to shove every bite down your throat, you're eating."

"Man, he cooks too," I mutter sarcastically, watching him pile pancakes on my plate. It looks good and all, but I have to keep my mind pointed straight toward my new goal. Separation. He wanted to talk about something earlier. Now or never.

"Yes, every so often," he nods, motioning toward the white table just past the countertops. "Go sit down."

I obey, not in the mood to fight over frivolous things when my mind is so weighted by the serious situation I've fallen prey to. Wyn seems to notice something is up when he places the plate before me, alongside a steaming white mug of pitch black coffee. I take a sip, pretending to be lost in thought. The sharp heat and bitterness that bite my tongue together are more than welcome. A pair that was meant to be forever. I sigh when Wyn sits across from me, giving me a soft smile.

"What did your father want?"

"To talk," I grumble, picking up my fork and poking at my breakfast. Hesitating, I glance up at Wyn's sharp blue eyes, staring right back before getting straight to the point. "What did you want to talk about this morning?" I almost feel guilty as the pleasant expression on his face melts away. He looks down at his food, taking a bite and setting his fork down.

"Where to start... Even I get nervous talking to pretty girls." He gives a nervous chuckle. "I suppose you know why I'm here, in the Crown City. I'm assuming that's why you're here." He leans forward, folding his hands loosely. "But I'm not exactly here for the same reasons you all believe I am. The emperor decided to make it appear we were going along with the pact. I would come here, marry you, and then move back. The exchange would happen as promised... except for one thing."

Wyn shakes his head, locks of fair hair falling before his pale face. "When your soldiers returned to take back the lost territory, we would threaten your life and the lives of those we've received from you. You're obviously someone the king cherishes, and so..." His voice trails off. "We'd have Insomnia's best men and their prosperous land. It sounds sickening now that it's out in the open. Kara, my sister, she... Advised me not to tell you, to let things run smoothly. She wishes things didn't have to be this way, just so you know," he adds in a hurried voice as if trying to lighten the weight of his news.