Work Text:
As Vi lay there, I couldn’t help but see how relaxed her expression could be; any trace of the knitted brow that greeted me before had now vanished. It was almost as if I had never seen her before, but also as if this was the first time I had truly seen her.
Over these past months, I hadn’t realized just how much I missed this face and how much I wanted to protect this expression of tranquility. It was just like the first time we were here together, but now I’m alone, staring at her without the comfort of her gaze meeting mine.
Almost as if on impulse, I gently reach out my hand towards her and slowly trace her features, as if trying to memorize this face so I'll never forget it again—I had never truly appreciated it before this moment. At that moment I noticed the small scar on her lip and slowly smoothed my finger over it. Lingering there as if to savor this brief moment.
But in that moment—movement. I quickly retract my hand, and as I stand there paused—she doesn’t wake. I let out a strained sigh of relief.
A part of me hopes that when she wakes, she will embrace me and look at me as if nothing ever happened, but I know that is not possible. In my grief, I hurt her in more ways than I can even imagine. Though I wish for her forgiveness, her embrace, her warmth, I know what I have done. I can only hope that once she wakes, she can look at me with an ounce of the love there was before.
But in the same breath, I want her to be angry at me; I want her to express everything I have done to wrong her because I am not certain that I have the courage to do it myself.
I don’t know how I will be able to face her when the time comes because no matter how hard I try around Vi, I cannot help but wear my emotions on my sleeves.
As I prepare to leave, I lean down once more and whisper to her in hopes she hears it, “I’m... I’m sorry I changed, and I hope you somehow find it in your heart to forgive me.”