Room 206, Later Tuesday Evening
Hands shaking, Naminé slipped her key into the lock, hoping and hoping that when she opened the door to 206 again ...
She hadn't expected to see Valentine, but that made it no less heartbreaking when she didn't.
The portal hadn't worked. He wasn't juggling in the park or wandering the streets. The angels were still and quiet in their corner of the preserve.
Valentine had just ... disappeared.
The Really Useful Book was fluttering away, up against the ceiling light, and she wished like anything it had useful information for her. But she'd never had a mother, either, any more than Valentine had.
Her glance lit upon her first sketch of him, juggling in the morning air. And near it, a taped drawing of two stones in a sandcastle.
What if he ... had stopped, somehow? What if he had fallen back into the void?
"Stupid, stupid, stupid," Naminé muttered, picking up a crayon and sketching desperately.
Valentine hated sphinxes. A lot.
Perhaps it was their freakish smiles, or maybe it was their nubby little stump-legs, or how they always seemed to bring friends along, or the freakishly colourful rainbows that made up their wings, or their appetites, or their nasal, quick little voices.
Or perhaps it was simply the fact that he had been forced to take refuge inside an empty rubbish bin in order to spare himself from being eaten to death by hungry, nasty little beasts.
Things had gone silent, outside of the trash bin. Perhaps it was safe, now, just to spare a peek. A moment. A dark slippy moment to be panther-esque in his ways. Valentine the ninja.
He straightened, stood, and looked around the alley.
The alley which was... now his bedroom again.
"A marked improvement," he decided.
"Valentine," Naminé breathed, throwing aside her sketchpad and squeezing him within an inch of his life.
This was certainly a far warmer reception than the sphinxes had given him!
"Naminé!" There was co-squeezing to be done, here. "Did you bring me back? You must have brought me back. I'm back!"
Back was good!
"I drew you," she stammered, not letting go. She would not be letting go for a while. She was not letting him out of her sight for a while. "I couldn't find you, I tried to portal, I thought you were gone and then I drew you. Where were you?"
"In a world that shouldn't exist," Valentine replied, and if they were to squeeze one another any harder than they were, they might perhaps both burst like overripe fruit. "Being chased by hungry sphinxes."
Because that was a wonderful way to keep things interesting on a calm Tuesday evening, wasn't it?
"Your world?" Naminé asked. "But ... does this mean it wasn't destroyed at all? Except you were there, it must have been. I ... I don't understand."
"I wish I did understand," he agreed with a nod and a deep frown. "They were city streets that I'd known, before, turns and dips and alleys that were the same, but not quite the same. It was like running through a museum, perhaps, of demonstrations as to how everything should be. It was all there, but wasn't really... Perfect."
Well. The local wildlife had been rather accurate, at least.
"Memories can change," she said softly. "You haven't been back in months. Maybe your mind was playing tricks on you."
She knew that better than anyone, didn't she? How malleable memory really was.
Valentine's mind hadn't been the most reliable tool he was in possession of since everything had vanished from around him last summertime. It was... possible, then, that he hadn't remembered everything properly.
"Perhaps so," he agreed, quietly pressing his face into her hair.
But if the world hadn't really fallen apart, if this was just his memory playing tricks on him, then why did it all feel so... incomplete?
"Or perhaps you're right," she said, hoping she wasn't questioning his sanity. "Maybe things have ... changed. I couldn't say, I'm sorry. I ... I'll admit, I'm mostly glad to have you back."
She was quiet for a few more seconds before asking, "Is your world somewhat ... yellow? Brownish? Flat?"
"Flat...? Perhaps so?" Flat was simply a notion thought up by people who actually had the benefit of depth perception and peripheral vision, really. "With cobbles and crackles and little pink fish?"
"I didn't see any fish," she murmured. But there was one question answered at least; she'd been in nearly the right location, if not exactly. Her portals weren't broken at all.
She leaned up to kiss his cheek. "You're back. That's what matters. Are you feeling all right? Not hurt, are you?"
"Only my dignity," he informed her, leaning down to return the kiss. Her cheeks were so very kissable. Particularly directly after saving him from being devoured, bones and all, by nasty, hungry little creatures. "I'm entirely intact otherwise."
"I should hate for any of you to go missing," she said, sounding slightly more devious than her usual. And leaning up for a slightly longer kiss.
Perhaps now might be a good time for bed, might it not?
Bed was a marvelous idea, actually. It went very well with long kisses and not being dead.
"I rather like it when all of me is found," he agreed.
Bed was amazing.
All of him was found. It seemed as good a time as any to celebrate. How very convenient, then, that bed was so close by.
(OOC: Preplayed with the awesome importantman. Follows this. Establishy, NFI, broadcast is okay. Dun dun dunnnnn...)