Echoes Of Ari

The first time Ari called him an idiot, Emy refused to speak to her for three days.

It had been over something small.

A movie, maybe.

Or a book.

Or one of those pointless arguments that only existed because Emy hated admitting she was right.

"You're impossible," he had muttered.

"And you're an idiot," Ari replied immediately.

Silence.

Offense.

Then laughter.

After that, it stayed.

Not as an insult.

As something that belonged only to them.

"You forgot again, idiot."

"You did that wrong."

"Move."

"Make me."

And somehow, Emy always moved anyway.

Rain tapped softly against the windows.

The room smelled faintly of medicine, tea, and old paper. Evening light stretched quietly across the floor as Ari adjusted the blanket over Emy's shoulders with careful hands.

Too careful.

Like gentleness could delay what was happening.

"You're cold," she murmured.

"I'm fine."

"You always say that."

"And you always fuss."

"You're old."

"You're older."

Ari snorted softly.

Liar.

He still sounded annoyingly pleased with himself.

Her fingers lingered against his hand for just a moment longer than necessary.

Neither of them mentioned it.

Neither of them mentioned the silence growing heavier around them either.

They didn't need to.

Years together had taught them how to hear the things left unsaid.

Emy shifted slightly against the pillows, his breathing uneven now.

"...Hey."

Ari looked up immediately.

"If there's a next time..."

Her chest tightened.

"Don't."

"You know what I mean."

"I said don't."

But Emy smiled faintly anyway.

Weak.

Stubborn.

Beautiful.

"Let's meet again."

Ari looked away before he could see her expression crack.

"That's not how life works."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"You don't."

A soft laugh escaped him.

"Then let me pretend."

Ari swallowed hard.

Outside, thunder rumbled quietly in the distance.

Emy's fingers moved weakly against the blanket, searching for her hand.

Ari caught it immediately.

Like letting go wasn't an option.

"Let's do it the same way," he whispered. "You arguing with me over nothing. Me pretending I'm always right."

"You pretending?"

"There it is."

His thumb brushed slowly against her fingers.

"You calling me an idiot."

"You are an idiot."

A faint laugh escaped him again.

Then silence.

Soft.

Heavy.

The kind that settled into the bones.

"Find me again," Emy whispered.

Ari closed her eyes briefly.

"...You'd better recognize me."

For a second, his grip tightened around hers.

"I always do."

The words settled quietly between them.

A promise.

A wish.

A prayer.

Ari leaned closer slowly until her forehead rested gently against his.

Their hands remained tightly intertwined.

Neither of them let go.

And somewhere between one breath and the next-

the room grew still.

Completely still.

No struggle.

No fear.

Just warmth fading slowly between clasped hands.

Together.

In each other's arms.

In the corner of the room, someone stood frozen.

Watching.

Meredith's fingers trembled slightly at her sides.

She had been there for years.

Close enough to hear everything.

Close enough to understand them.

Never close enough to belong.

Her gaze lingered on the way they fit together so naturally even at the end.

Like loving each other had become instinct.

Like there had never been room for anyone else.

Something painful twisted sharply in her chest.

Not anger.

Not hatred.

Longing.

Terrible longing.

"...Then give it to me," Meredith whispered.

The room remained silent.

But somehow-

it didn't feel empty.

Her eyes lowered toward their joined hands.

"I want that life."

Rain hit harder against the windows.

"I want someone to look at me the way he looked at her."

Her voice cracked softly this time.

Just once.

"...I want to be loved like that."

The lights flickered.

Once.

Twice.

Meredith stepped closer slowly.

"If there's a next time..."

Her gaze fixed on Ari.

"...give me her place."

Darkness swallowed the room.

Then-

Cold.

Ari gasped awake sharply.

Her chest hurt.

Not pain.

Wrongness.

The ceiling above her was unfamiliar-plain wood instead of soft cream plaster.

The bed beneath her felt thin.

Cheap.

The room was small enough that the walls seemed too close.

Ari sat up too quickly.

The blanket slid from her shoulders.

Rough fabric.

Not hers.

Nothing here was hers.

Her breathing became uneven as she stared at her hands.

Smaller.

Rougher.

Faint scars lined unfamiliar fingers.

"No..."

The word came out barely audible.

This wasn't possible.

Her thoughts crashed together violently.

The promise.

The warmth of his hands.

The feeling of dying together-

"Emy-"

A harsh knock slammed against the door.

Ari flinched violently.

"Claire!" a woman shouted from outside. "If you're awake, then move already!"

Ari froze.

Claire?

"You're late! Do you want the housekeeper reporting you to Lady Ari?"

Lady... Ari?

The words didn't make sense.

Ari stared blankly toward the door as footsteps faded away.

No.

No, that was wrong.

I'm Ari.

Slowly, she stood.

A folded servant's uniform rested neatly on a chair nearby.

Black.

Plain.

Familiar in a way that made her stomach twist.

Her body moved before her thoughts caught up.

She dressed automatically.

Like these hands had done it hundreds of times before.

That frightened her more than anything.

By the time she stepped into the hallway, voices echoed faintly through the estate.

And immediately-

her breath caught.

She knew this place.

The marble floors.

The windows.

The staircase ahead.

Impossible.

But familiar.

Ari's heartbeat quickened painfully as she moved forward.

Faster now.

Past the corridor.

Down the stairs.

Toward the main hall-

Then she stopped.

Laughter drifted through the room ahead.

Soft.

Warm.

Familiar.

Ari's chest tightened instantly.

No.

Slowly-

she looked up.

And saw him.

Emy stood near the tall windows, sunlight falling across his dark hair as he spoke quietly with someone beside him.

Alive.

Young.

Beautiful.

Ari's eyes burned immediately.

For one impossible moment, relief flooded her chest so hard it hurt.

Then-

she saw the woman standing beside him.

Ari froze.

The world tilted violently beneath her feet.

Her face.

Her smile.

Her life.

Someone else was wearing it.

The woman laughed softly at something Emy said, completely at ease beside him.

Like she belonged there.

Like she had always belonged there.

A servant brushed past Ari impatiently.

"Don't just stand there staring," she muttered under her breath. "Do you want Lady Ari to notice?"

Lady Ari.

Ari frowned instinctively.

The words felt wrong.

No-

impossible.

Because I'm Ari.

Her gaze shifted back toward the woman beside Emy.

The woman turned slightly.

The woman laughed softly at something he said.

Familiar smile.

Familiar voice.

Familiar face.

Her face.

Ari's breath caught painfully.

The woman turned slightly then, her gaze drifting briefly across the room-

passing over Claire without pause.

Without recognition.

Like she was nothing more than another servant.

Then she looked back at Emy easily, naturally, completely at home beside him.

Ari felt the ground tilt beneath her.

Someone else was living her life.

And somehow-

everyone believed she belonged there.