"...River"
She tells him like she's announcing a failed experiment.
Like: Here are the results. They're bad. Please don't yell.
"I was going to run away," she says. "On the wedding day."
River blinks.
Once.
Twice.
Then the shock over took him and he sputters out, eyes snapping to her heart-shaped face. "You were going to—what?"
She waits for anger. Or disbelief. Or the loud kind of heartbreak. Instead, what she gets is worse- a silence. The stunned, recalibrating kind. Like his brain has just dropped a tray of fragile glassware and, she, she felt like those fragments of shattered glass penetrate through her heel as her mouth opened but nothing except a shutter, a sigh of coagulate breath escaped her mouth.
"I...I..baby...I saw the ring with which your proposed me"
She slides the ring off the chain around her neck,"It was perfect...too perfect to marry the love of my life--like-- my dream had come true, but as I were twisting the ring between my fingertips I realized that it's a dream i don't deserve..I...I..." And, She places the ring in his palm, the little peice of silver he bought from his very first salary as the professor. It fits there perfectly. Of course it does. Everything about this situation is infuriatingly symmetrical.
A marriage of two years and you get to know your bride, the love of your life with whom you have planned to spend the rest days of your life was all ready to elope on your own damn wedding day? Leaving him standing on the alter with questions that only she could have answered...but by the time he would have received news it world have been late.
"I...I..." A tear sit onto the corner of her eyes like a dewdrop on the needle of pine those shiver in the early spring.
River's expression softens as he felt something heavy tied to his heart and it sinks into a quite tranquility within, as he reaches out, gently tracing his thumb against her cheek with a silent reassurance.
"Hey," he murmurs, "it's okay. You can say it."
A lump of saliva gulp down the throat.
"I thought you'd be better off," she says quickly, words tumbling. "You had become a professor. I was still a student. You were…established. I was still figuring out which version of myself I wanted to be. It felt so selfish, so loathsome, such a burden on you...And I panicked...I just snaped!"
River pulls her shivering form into his arms-strong and with promising warmth.
Not gently. Not politely.
But like a man catching something precious mid-fall.
Her body folds into his, and the sob breaks loose—
not loud, but raw, like something ancient cracking open.
"I packed a suitcase and I chose Japan because it felt far enough that you wouldn't follow or atleast it may be the end of the world that I felt you couldn't get a hint"
She laughs weakly into his shoulder, "I even Googled japanese names, and was stupid enough to adopt one as my new name, a different hair colour, fashion sense and changing my subject to Japan's edo period and I wrote a letter that I have burnt long ago that read in black ink-
'Please forgive me, River...you deserve someone far better' "
"But then...when time came, I dressed in my wedding dress at the very dawn of our wedding day one last time just feel the warmth I was going to thrown away, away that it's flame won't touch me and there you were standing just below my balcony...you- jolly, ready for a new life with that smile of yours that always broke something inside me and make me selfish, hungry, addicted to you... and then I thought once I'm gone...what will happen of that smile? What will happen of you? What if I broke you rather than protecting you? I could not bear it...I just couldn't--"
She choked on her own sob as she pressed her face into his warmth, as if searching for the core, while his finger gently stroke her hairs.
"I'm sorry...I was so weak..."
His breath catches—low, pained—like she just reached into his chest and twisted something raw.
For a second, he doesn't speak. Just stares at the ring in your hand—the same one he slipped onto her finger under the stars, when no one was watching and the world felt like it belonged only to you two.
River stares at the ring-once, twice...
Then at her whose body is coiled with his.
Then back at the ring.
The ring that resemble the majestic stars of the night.
"You thought...you didn't deserve me?"
His voice is quiet—not angry. Not mocking. But hurt. The kind that comes from love too deep to measure.
"You were gonna run," he whispers, "change everything—your name, your hair...your history? That's equivalent to say- You were going to...erase yourself?" he says slowly, like he's testing the sentence for structural integrity, as he pull a little away to gaze at her tear strain face, "because you thought I was...too much for you?"
She nods without meeting his gaze.
He exhales. Long. Careful. Like he's trying not to collapse a house of cards.
"You know, you weren't weak...you were just stupid" he says flicking her with a slight grin to his lips, that baffled her as she gripped her forehead, "there are always easier ways to tell someone you're scared. The easiest one being to talk, not to assume."
She presses her lips together.
"We were still naive...thinking life was full of fantasy, fairytale..."
That's when his composure finally fractures.
"And now?"
Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just—quiet damage.
Her eyes a refracted beam of light within the canopy as it bounce to her feet and become static.
"We are still existing..."
He steps closer, thumb brushing her cheek automatically, like muscle memory. Like gravity.
"You don't get to decide that," he says. "You don't get to opt out of being loved because the math looks intimidating."
She opens her mouth. Closes it.
"I didn't fall for you because you were my student, you know that too, it was before that when we were just two souls wandering within that old library carrying the fear of oblivion and entire world around us in mist" he continues holding both of her hands into his, "And then we found each other and suddenly...the mist was lifted."
he says so softly.
"I fell for you because you argued with me about footnotes, about things even the most introspective people lack, and you looked like you wanted to nap on my shoulder like a damn cat and somehow did both at the same time."
"You weren't just my equal...you were my everything long before our fingers brushed by accident. " something clutch deep inside her heart that a raw sob...a warmth just like a bonfire burning on a winter night origin within the center of her chest.
A beat, a pause...as he lean a bit,
"I would've followed you to Japan," he adds with a little giggle but his eyes were damp, just like a overflowing damn,
"I would've changed my name. Learned Japanese curse words just to yell at strangers who annoyed you."
A smile escaped her lips at the thought of it, that she shield under her fingers.
"Became a goddamn Edo-period scholar if it meant standing next to you."
He brushes his thumb across her knuckles again.
"And don't ever tell me again that love makes someone selfish..."
"Running away—that's selfish too."
"Because it steals from us...it steals the most beautiful things from us."
Her throat tightens, and bitter tears begin to run, as she felt how much she has been loved, how much this idiot loved her that even after learning something so wreaking he is still here to comfort her.
"I don't deserve you...river...I don't...I kept you in dark...I kept you in dark for two years...two years."
"No, you didn't" he smiled with a content smile that her heart sinked into her belly,
"Do you forget I learned to read you years ago? You were acting off, you were jumpy, your eyes were tired—you were pulling away from me, damn it."
"Damn, I were on the breaking point...I felt like I wasn't starting a life rather I was walking to my own end "said he, running a hand through his hairs, and lets out a low growl, his fingers tightening around her waist like he's half-afraid she'll slip away from him if he lets go.
"I found the suitcase," he says quietly. "Two days before the wedding while I was looking for my tie in your closet—the navy one you said looked good on me—and then, I saw it. Half-hidden under the bed."
She looks away. Shame creeps in like a rash but, His thumb brushes her soaked cheek, rough but gentle as if assuring her that he's here with her.
"And then...I found the letter."
A bitter chuckle escapes him.
"You didn't burn it that night. Maybe you tried...but you couldn't go through with it."
"It was still in your desk drawer. Folded like you kept reading it over and over...like you were begging yourself to stay."
He leans his forehead against hers again—softly this time.
"That's when I knew—I had to find you before dawn." He pulls her even closer, his voice dropping to a low, raw whisper.
Her heart drops. Hard.
"I came to your balcony before dawn," he says. "You were standing there in your wedding dress, staring at the horizon like it owed you an explanation."
He swallows.
"I didn't call your name because I was afraid if I startled you, you'd jump. Not physically. Emotionally."
She reaches for him without thinking. Wraps her arms around him like she's holding onto the last stable variable in a collapsing equation.
He holds her back just as tightly.
"I almost lost you," he admits into her hair.
"You didn't," she says, voice muffled. "I stayed."
He pulls back just enough to look at her. His eyes are bright. Dangerous. Soft in a way that should be illegal.
"Next time you think about running," he says, "run toward me."
She doesn't answer with words.
She kisses him instead—fast, desperate, unplanned—slamming him back into the wall like a force vector gone rogue. He makes a startled sound that she feels more than hears, then his hands are on her waist, anchoring her like he's afraid she'll disappear again.
The kiss hits him like a storm—sudden, fierce, and full of everything he's ever wanted. His back slams against the wall with a low thud, but he doesn't care. Can't care. Not when you're pressed against him like she's trying to rewrite history with her lips.
For a second, he's stunned—heart stuttering in his chest—then instinct takes over.
His hands fly to her waist, gripping hard enough to leave warmth behind, pulling her impossibly closer as he kisses her back with a hunger that's been held too long in silence. No words now. No history lessons or quiet lies for the world.
Just this.
Her.
Him.
The past few years—the fear, the love hidden behind glances and syllabus schedules—all of it melts under the fire of her mouth on his.
When he finally breaks the kiss—breathless, dazed—he rests his forehead against hers again… eyes closed… heart slamming like it wants out.
"Damn it," he growls softly, "you always do that."
"Turn me into some...senseless mess..."
A shaky laugh escapes him as one hand slides up to cradle her neck—fingers tangled in her hair.
He presses her palm to his chest—right over his heart which was beating with a vigorous zeal, thrombing like a continous hammer bustling onto hot iron.
"Feel that?"
"That's yours. Always has been."
His voice drops lower, rougher with emotion.
"I don't want perfect love—I want messy love. The kind where we fight over phones in history class, where you try to run off to Japan, where I lose my damn mind because you pout at me while texting teenagers."
A soft laugh escapes him—broken but real.
"I want us. Not some fairy tale where everything makes sense from the start."
He lean in brushing his lips to those lips of hers while other hand cradle her cheek.
"I want the girl who feared to love, who loved but still feared it's consequences...yet she stayed, she stayed by my side"
Her lips hungrily claimed his lips within another deep kiss but--
"UNCLE! AUNTY!"
They freeze, pushing away from the shared intensity, almost breathing heavily and half coughing.
Rio stands there on the wide open door, scandalized and thrilled.
"Unkie Wiver," she announces, "you were eating Aunty's face."
From downstairs, her mother asked in a loud voice, "Did something fall?!"
Martina and River lock eyes. Panic. Then helpless laughter.
"Nothing fell!" She call down quickly, stepping smoothly in front of him to block any more incriminating views while trying—and failing—not to grin. "Just...uh…Uncle dropped his phone!"
River snorts behind her failed attempt,
"You think that fooled her?"
But then he crouches down with a dramatic sigh to Rio's level and whispers:
"I wasn't eating your auntie—I was just..." he pauses, "...checking if she had cooties."
Rio gasps. "EW." And Martina rolled her eyes as he winks at her.
"All clear, by the way."
"Rio, darling why don't you play for a while outside, I think I have to check for cooties on your beloved uncle"
River snorts again at her mock-serious tone, standing back up with a shrug that tells her exactly how innocent he is, but Rio glances between them both, contemplating the cootie situation for a moment—as any serious child would—then nods sagely.
"You better check him real good," she declares, pointing at River with all the righteous confidence of a four-year-old cootie expert. "Boys are the worst with cooties, you know!"
"Ah...our proud bloodline of strong 'male haters' " clapped Martina, with a proud grin on which rive simply huffed running fingers over his creased forehead,
"yes, darling he's going to be thoroughly cleaned"
"Hey!" River protests, indignant. "I have zero cooties, thank you very much."
Rio rolls her eyes as only a little girl can—fully and without remorse. "That's exactly what someone with bad cooties would say, Uncle Wiver!"
He pretends to look offended, crossing his arms with a mock scowl. "Oh, yeah? Well, how about you prove it, pipsqueak?"
"Baby, I think, cooties have taken over his brain" a pure horror pass on her little face as her aunty whispered within her ears l- one of the most gruesome thing to a four year old,
"...run fast before he becomes....a zombie!"
Rio gasps in pure, theatrical horror—hands flying to her mouth like she just witnessed the beginning of an apocalypse.
"ZOMBIE?!" she shrieks, "No! Not Unkie Wiver!"
She immediately turns and bolts down the hallway at full speed—tiny feet slapping against wood as she flees from certain doom.
"MIMI!! MIMI!!! UNCLE'S GONNA EAT MY BRAINS!!"
From downstairs, her mom's voice rises again, filled with irritation, a fondly annoyance "Did someone say 'zombies'?!"
River stares after Rio with wide eyes. Then slowly turns back to her, who smile so devious.
"...You're evil," he mutters. But there's no real anger in it.
Just warmth.
And a quiet laugh that rumbles through his chest like thunder after rain.
"That..." he murmurs, shaking his head, "...was close."
He runs a hand through his hair—disheveled from the earlier kiss—and lets out a long breath.
"Damn."
"Go sit on the bed"
He lifts an eyebrow at the order, tilting his head to one side as his eyes darken with promise and mischief.
"Bossy." But his voice is huskier than before as he obeys—walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge, still looking up at her, to see where is it leading, as he looks up at her, affection wrecking his face.
"Now what, Your Highness?" he asks with a smirk.
"I'm going to do what I promised rio" continued with a tilted head,
"check for cooties"
"Well," he says, shaking his head in affection,"For science, I guess"