when the snows are gone...

[loveasthouwilt]

I had gone to sleep chilly, glad for the blanket I'd wrapped myself up in, burrowed deep into its warmth. When I woke, though, I felt I was drowning in it, and clawed my way free to discover the world had returned to the state it was in before December had arrived, hot and humid and tropical

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[travelingprince]

I, too, had been up early, realising the snow had gone, and therefore that I owed Phedre an answer. In truth I had decided at the new year what my answer would be, only I was too much of a coward to give her the answer immediately. It was no surprise to hear the knock on my door, nor to see that it was Phedre, anxious and expectant. "Hello," I said, feeling the familiar twist at my heart.

[loveasthouwilt]

"Good morning," I said smartly, wondering if he felt the same lurch in his stomach that I did when our eyes met. There was a pause, drawn out, while we simply stared at one another, and I found myself wishing he would do something so that I did not have to ask the question I had come to ask. But he remained silent, and so I slipped through the door and sat on the chair inside. "It seems to be summer again," I said quietly, my hands folded in my lap and my eyes fixed on his.

[travelingprince]

"It seems so," I replied. It pained me to see how expectant she was, and I knew just from looking at her expression that she thought she knew what my answer would be. For a moment that seemed to stretch into an eternity, I looked into her eyes and was tempted, so very tempted to change my mind, to tell Phedre that whatever it took, I would do it, simply to be with her. It was the hardest thing I had ever done to resist that temptation, so strong it was.

I clenched and unclenched my fists, my breath coming short, then blurted all at once, "Forgive me, Phedre, I cannot do this. You mustn't - do not end things with Joscelin on my account."

[loveasthouwilt]

It was a shock, to be sure, a nauseous chill seeping into my stomach, and I sat back in the chair, knowing my confusion showed on my face. "I-- ah," I stammered, having nothing immediately to say in return. "I was not going to end things," I said finally, my voice bordering on toneless. "I was going to tell him he is not the only man that I love. If there was to be an end, it would have come from him." But he knew that already; he'd known it, and perhaps it had helped decide him in this fashion.