A Portuguese word meaning a feeling of longing, melancholy, or nostalgia for something or someone that one loves.
Moreover, it often carries a repressed knowledge that the object of longing might never return.
In a way, Dove Hanlon never did retur...
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"Ha! I win!" Dove Hanlon's cheery, gloating voice shouted accompanied by the resounding thud of a heavy body hitting the ground. That body being none other than her best friend and her soon to be Parabatai, Jaehyun Jung.
Dove couldn't remember a time when Jaehyun wasn't at her side, they'd been friends since the day they were born. They'd fallen from heights, scrapped knees, bruised, bled and finally grew together. This was just the training for people like them:
Shadowhunters.
One day very soon, they'd be a part of the Clave and fight the real enemy. Then, the weapon would really hurt but for now their little practice fight was the problem at hand.
"Okay, okay, you win, Dovey," Jaehyun said breathless, his hands held down on the floor by Dove's. Using the weight of her small yet lean frame to keep him there.
"Sorry, what? I didn't hear that?" Dove said, leaning closer. Jaehyun rolled his eyes, trying in vain to free his hands. With a chuckle, she let his hands free.
Jaehyun couldn't believe the girl currently on top of him, holding him down. He remembered when she was taller than him, back then she had the upper hand. He remembered them racing down the hallways of the Institute. She won every single one of those races, she had always been faster than him despite his now much longer legs.
Dove hadn't yet moved from her position on top of him, his legs between her thighs. She looked down at him, their eyes met. Strands of hair that had freed themselves from her braid fell in gentle curls and tickled his face as he sat up.
Suddenly the air felt thick, the space between them electrified. Her unwavering gaze, she was unsure, uneasy. Jaehyun didn't know what was happening or what he felt. This was his best friend, in three days, she'd be his Parabatai and they both knew everything that entailed.
Jaehyun couldn't help himself. He had to know.
So, he kissed her.
Their lips met and for a millisecond, he swore his heart stopped. For a millisecond, he felt like he was complete. For those few seconds where his one hand followed it's own unconscious path to hold her cheek and the other to the small of her back to push her closer to him if that was even possible; he felt like he held the sun itself in his arms.
But in that same breath, it was over.
Dove pushed him away, she ran to her room. The sound of the door slamming shut echoing down the hallway. Jaehyun was left alone, bringing his hand to his lips. Trying to register what had just happened.
Jaehyun decided to leave her alone, he needed time too. It had been a mistake, it had to be. Just a moment of weakness. Nothing more, nothing less. They'd forget about it tomorrow.
Later that night, he ventured to her bedroom, knocking on her door. But the door swung open as his hand touched it.
Odd. She always kept her bedroom door locked. A cold breeze brought shivers to his skin, the long white curtains blew into the room. Her large bay windows wide open.
Something was wrong. He felt frantic, his eyes were drawn to a piece of paper lying on her bed. Scribbled in Dove's scratchy handwriting were four words:
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