It’s difficult to talk about it with her mother, how she feels about Iliya. It’s easier to talk about preventing their ruined future; it’s easier to admit to herself that her parents are the only people most worth protecting. Iliya’s a different matter because it hurts to talk about him, it breaks her heart to think of what they could have and how they are now. He’s like the missing piece of her and yet she can’t convey this properly, can’t find the words to express how much she needs him.
She’s walking to the door, saying goodnight when Samantha says suddenly, “You love him.”
A strange sort of ache settles in Lucina’s throat; it’s as difficult to dislodge as he is.
“You’re in love with Iliya,” Samantha says quietly and hearing someone else say the words nearly shatters Lucina. It does shatter her; she can’t talk and tears fill her eyes and all she can do is nod, seemingly frozen in place.
If she’s shocked by Lucina’s admission, Samantha doesn’t show it. Her eyes just blaze warmly, and she closes the distance between them, wrapping her arms around her daughter.
“That’s okay, you know,” she whispers, her voice low and sincere. “You don’t have to feel guilty about it.”
Lucina refuses to move away, but she grimaces slightly. Her mother knows her so well. She supposes, though, that it was always inevitable.
She shakes her head. “But I do feel guilty,” Lucina stresses. “I’ve felt guilty about this for so long.”
Samantha nods and Lucina frowns sheepishly. She didn’t come to this conclusion lightly. It’s not like Iliya just waltzing into her room and proclaiming his love for her changed her mind. No. His declaration just opened the dam, letting loose the water she’s not strong enough to hold back anymore.
“I’m sorry, Luci,” Samantha says.
Lucina’s heart contracts. She shakes her head. “I don’t regret it,” she says softly (she could never regret it). “It’s just hard.”
Samantha’s voice grows quiet, soft, gentle. “You two need to figure this out,” she murmurs, and the words should be harsh or even cold but instead they’re warm and inviting, and Lucina just wants her mother to make everything better, to hold her and let her cry and escape for a little while. “Go talk to him.”
Samantha shoots her daughter one last knowing look, leaving a kiss on her cheek with a glaze over her luminous blue eyes. She whispers that she loves her, and then she leaves.
Lucina stands there for a long, long while. Because like so many times in her life, she’s at an impasse she can’t bridge despite her best efforts.
She’s resigned to this now. She knows she’ll end the night in Iliya’s arms. Only one problem remains: she doesn’t know how she feels about that.
Her mind races back to Iliya’s declaration the night before: “I love you, you know. I will always protect you,” he had confessed casually, like it should be obvious.
And it was obvious. It had been obvious for a long, long time.
The words had washed over her like a beam of golden light. And although this moment was monumental, a turning point in their relationship, it felt like the words had always hovered in her mind. The knowledge is a part of her.
He is a part of her, too.
It takes a while. Slowly, as if her real emotions are testing the deep, seemingly impenetrable waters of her façade, her sense of love for him— it’s undeniable— begins to flood her body. She trembles. She’s spent so long repressing these feelings, refusing to believe that her attachment to him even exists. She’s had good reason to, of course.
But now, when she finds herself wondering if they will ever have a future together, she can’t suppress all the thoughts she has about him when she lets her guard down, even the slightest bit. She can’t force herself to push him away for the sake of doing the right thing.
The thought makes her heart skip a beat. It’s not entirely unpleasant.
And then, the words she never believed could be true spring from her mouth.
“I’m in love with Iliya.”
And Gods does she mean it.
