Homesick: An Equilibriai Short

Synodic
Lagom
Susurrus
Humanoid Era
xxxx, X.X.

Marguerite wasn’t a fan of waiting.

She had sent out her letter to Skylar a week ago – it wouldn’t take long for it to arrive in Elan and for her blonde friend to write back, would it? Marguerite slumped onto her bed and sighed. There was no other reason for it to be incredibly delayed, unless –

“Unless she’s mad,” Marguerite found herself whispering. The thought of it made her sit up and run a hand through her hair, a mixed expression coming to her face. It was one of irritation and upset – why would Skylar be mad? It wasn’t as if Marguerite had left her without saying anything. The tangerine-eyed girl scrunched up her face.

Then again…Skylar wasn’t as open to the idea of Marguerite leaving Elan in the first place. The Gear-user felt a small pang of guilt resonate in her chest. She didn’t want to cause Skylar any pain, whether it be physical or emotional, but she had to choose the lesser evil.

Either Marguerite keep her leave a secret and pretend that things were okay, or she come out to Skylar with the truth and relish the last days she had with her.

Eventually, Marguerite picked the latter choice.

Upon telling, she found herself wishing that she hadn’t.

“Y-You’re what?”

Marguerite stayed quiet, watching Skylar process the information. Her face, then blank, turned into an expression of shock. It was like the color had drained away from her face. The girl watched as the blonde bit her lip and Marguerite resisted the urge to pull off a smile and tell her that it was okay.

Because it wasn’t. It definitely wasn’t okay.

Despite what Marguerite had assured herself weeks back when her parents had told her the news, the doubt was still there. The doubt if Skylar would be able to handle the news – the doubt if she would be able to pull a brave face and reassure her that it would be alright in the end.

Judging by the look on the other’s face at that moment, Skylar was far from okay.

“Skye…don’t.” the other refused to look at Marguerite. Marguerite plastered a hard look onto her face despite not wanting to look cold and unemotional. “Let’s not make this hard for the both of us.”

“Why? Why are you moving to Susurrus – it’s in the north!”

“I don’t know,” Marguerite lied. “I really don’t, Skye. I wish I did. My parents just…told me out of the blue,” (which was true) “And I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to leave Elan. I don’t want to leave home.” And after a moment’s worth of hesitation, “I don’t want to leave you.”

True, true, true, true.

“I don’t want you to leave either,” Skylar whispered. “Marg, you can’t leave, you really can’t – what about Althea?” Marguerite bit the inside of her cheek.

In all honesty, she had told Althea Goldenrod a week back. Her reaction was easier to handle by lightyears.

“I’ll tell her tomorrow.” Skylar nodded, facing away. Marguerite could detect a hint of wetness on the other’s face and she sighed, taking a handkerchief out of her pocket and holding it tightly in her hand. “Skylar. Look at me.”

“W-What–” when she didn’t, Marguerite merely shook her head and used the piece of cloth to gently wipe away Skylar’s tears. The action only seemed to made a fresh batch of tears flow more and Marguerite remained quiet, merely wiping the other’s tears away until no more could be forced out.

“I know,” she said quietly. “It’s hard and it sucks to be away. I tried to reason against my parents, tell them I couldn’t go. We had plans, Skye. Remember?” Skylar nodded tearfully, “But…they wouldn’t budge. Apparently this is important to them,” Marguerite clued. This seemed to make the blonde understand bit by bit.

“Life…life or death?”

“I think,” Marguerite managed. ‘I’m giving you clues,’ she thought. ‘I’m giving you all the clues just so you can understand.’

“I…I see,” Skylar mumbled. This time, Marguerite let herself smile. Just a little bit.

“Are you mad?”

“What – no,” the blonde defende. “I’m not mad, I…I’m sad. And upset,” she admitted. “How can I be okay when my best friend’s moving up north and has little to no chance of coming back?”

“I never said I’d be gone forever,” Marguerite interrupted. Skylar shook her head sadly.

“Life or death, Marg. You said so yourself a while ago.” Marguerite was unable to reply. With that, Skylar sighed and leaned her head against the brunette’s shoulder, moving closer. Marguerite let her, biting her lower lip and trying to find the words to make Skylar feel better.

Sadly, there were none.

So Marguerite just let her touch – her presence – do the talking, not failing to notice that Skylar had began to cry once more.

"Promise me that you'll come back."

She couldn’t be mad.

She couldn’t be, right?

“Not unless the mail got intercepted or the letter got lost,” Marguerite guessed, but she shook her head. “No…that can’t be. Why would it get lost in a time like this,” she mused.

No guesses came to mind. Sighing again, Marguerite walked to her window and peeked out, seeing nothing but a view from the mountains. Cold air entered the room and she shivered, rubbing her arms. After years of living in Elan, Marguerite found herself unaccustomed the coldness that was being experienced in Susurrus. After all, it was the coldest of the four main regions in Lagom.

“I miss home,” she found herself murmuring. “I miss Elan.”

And in the back of her mind, a part of her whispered:

I miss Skye.