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39. to say goodbye
There was something different about Roche that night, Melissa felt – every occasion with the SOLDIER was unique, but he acted… Remarkably unusual for that evening. By now, the madame was able to see through his façade and into his soul – but only because she had been allowed that glimpse by Roche himself. She had been able to tell when he was genuinely exhilarated or when he felt enraged by something in particular or even when he was head over heels for some novelty she had never heard about.
The SOLDIER had widened her horizons – both literal and figuratively. She had never seen how beautiful Midgar could look from the rooftop of a building above the plate until he took her there, or realized how the rapid succession of the lights of a tunnel when one went in high speed through it had quite the hypnotic effect until he offered Melissa a ride.
It was almost as if she had merely survived but not truly lived until Roche pulled the curtain away and showed her just how much she had missed out. There was no way but to feel her heart beating faster and her blood pumping harder when she was by his side – if the man was addicted to adrenaline and excitement himself, then he had become her drug.
But that night… That night he was strongly experiencing an emotion she didn’t often see in him – sadness. He was still poetic and chivalrous to a fault, his protective behavior towards his fairytale queen flawlessly in place as before – but his smile didn’t quite reach the mako-blue eyes; his touches felt more urgent and there was some ever-present melancholy in the way he looked at her, almost as if he tried to imprint her face and the feeling of her skin under his digits into his memory.
They had watched the sunset topside together, then grabbed a bite at one of their favorite joints near the road to below the plate – and then he brought her back below, sweeping Melissa in his arms to carry her over the inn stairs much to her surprise and laughter. She didn’t return downstairs to work that night – in fact, she had delegated the floor managing to some of the older, trusted girls whenever she took off with the SOLDIER.
Once they were back in her room, Roche effectively kissed and touched her as if he was worshipping a goddess at her altar – not an inch of skin went uncared for, not a single moan failed to be hungrily captured by his lips. There was almost no room to breathe, as if being distant from each other could cause them physical pain.
Now, typically he would spend the night – her bed was more than enough for two in true queenly fashion, but Roche instead got up and started to get dressed. That sort of behavior drew her attention once more – and Melissa crawled over to him, embracing the SOLDIER from behind and placing her head over his shoulder while he laced his boots and continued to get ready to depart.
“You’re not staying this time?” she queried with a smile on her lips, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek – he wasn’t the type that needed to be coaxed into staying, but something was definitively off about him that night. “Can’t I tempt to be a little bit late to work by tomorrow?”
“You can tempt me plenty, my queen. And you unquestionably have done so,” he responded with flair, but he gently disentangled himself from her arms, moving away from the bed to get his shirt and jacket on, his lips curved up – but his eyes were sad and devastated. It was so contrasting – Melissa did not exactly follow what was happening, but when she made it to the edge of the bed to follow him, Roche returned – and he kneeled on the floor, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles softly.
“I wish to thank you for these moments we shared – it has been my honor and my pleasure to serve you. You have been a bright and warm light amidst darkness and I will never forget you.”
“Alec…” she started, eyeing him with worry now – he was scaring her. They had always lived the fairytale fantasy of times long gone, of benevolent queens and brave knights, but never like this – never like it was goodbye.
Then it hit her – no. It couldn’t. It couldn’t be… It was too soon… Wasn’t it?
“I am afraid I must now leave your service, your majesty. I was most happy at your side and I hope you also treasure these memories. When you think of me… Please think of me fondly.”
It was suddenly hard to breathe – Melissa found her eyes were stinging with fresh tears, rolling down her face freely because she couldn’t move, couldn’t bring herself to break contact with Roche. Her voice was gone, as well as the warmth of her skin – but Roche’s smile persisted, beautiful and mesmerizing as the first time he had smiled for her – at her.
“Goodbye, Lilian,” he whispered, pressing one last kiss to her hand and bowing respectfully before raising up. Her head turned, following him walking around the room – and it was only when he reached for the doorknob, remarkedly composed in contrast to her messy, sobbing self, that Melissa yelled for him to wait.
He turned – and with whatever little strength that she could muster, Melissa mouthed the three words they had often exchanged to each other – but never with such intensity or true meaning. Roche smiled back at her – this time, a genuine one that illuminated his eyes like fireworks, bowing to her with one hand across his chest and displaying a look of pure devotion in his mako-blue orbs when he once more straightened up.
With that, he indeed left – a soft click of the door told Melissa that Roche was gone. He had been her savior, her hero, her love – and now he was gone. This was why everything felt so different that night – from the moment he had showed up to her door to the moment he went away… He had been saying goodbye.
She had always known it would come – and yet she never truly prepared for the moment when Roche would walk away from her life to become a mere entry in a newspaper column. Such would be her life now – devoid of the excitement he brought, empty of his laughter and theatrics, lacking his beautiful and compelling flame.
That was her cross to bear now – but in memory of everything they had lived together, she would carry it – and she would carry it proudly.
