Chapter 16: C'est beau, pourtant...

I tinkered with the angle of my laptop's screen and removed the glare to see a face staring back at me. Though, Ezra didn't look as content when I last saw him watching me from afar. In all fairness, neither did I. Too many questions, too much distance. Too much underlying value gutted by impure timelines.

Lounging in his living room, his back pressed against the short and soft backside of his couch. The evening sun beamed through his apartment's large living room windows and it's bright yellow reflection shone on the side of his face. It was too easy to dislike the contradiction of the warm light accentuating the resignation in him.

"How are you?" he asked with a dull timbre.

There was a brief lag in the camera feed; I focused on his mouth.

Considerate of the delay, I waited a few seconds before replying with some honesty, "I'm okay. Better."

Overall, he looked better as well-- or more relaxed. Ezra didn't don too many t-shirts, since I've known him. Though, change wasn't always something to examine to death. His shirt was plain and white with those purely cosmetic, small pockets sewn over the heart. The stubble was still decorating his chin; however, it complimented him this time around as it wasn't paired with a sleepless face.

I was also dressed for comfort in a heather gray jumper and a purple cable pom beanie. If it was cozy to me, it was also peppered in light cat fur. Cinna Buns was as big as she was going to get, but only double the size of her kittenhood days and found comfort in fitting into odd spaces-- her favorite spot being my folded legs.

Gently scratching down Cinna Buns back, I exhaled, "So, you didn't stop by at the march."

"I didn't think it was appropriate for me to interfere," he returned, watching me push my cat's tail from my face.

Licking my behind my teeth, I quirked a brow and began, "To interfere with..."

"Your friends," he admitted.

I appeared amused, but there was a slight prickle in my delivery, "You showed up. You came, and I can't say enough how much I appreciated the support. You wouldn't have ruined anything."

He was calm and sighed, "I couldn't have assumed that."

"Okay... that's fair. But you know now," I admitted with less tart.

Can we stop fading?

He looked away from the computer for the first time, and his fingers delved into the dark hairs on his chin.

More than a few seconds passed, and I groaned, "Ezra, stop."

"What do you mean?" he murmured, not ceasing his enticing gesture.

Jesus.

I straightened my back and finally looked away from his mouth to answer, "Overthinking. I'm tired of doing it. Aren't you?"

His scratches climbed up to his cheek. "You put it so simply."

"Because sometimes it is. Look at the facts, so much shit has happened, yet we're still here."

"You're there, and I'm here," he pointed out, lolling his head

Oh no... what are you saying?

I failed at hiding my eagerness, impatiently pondering, "What are you saying?"

The back of his fingers brushed across his chin and around his mouth, and I needed help. I was appreciative of technology as much as I chided it for taking away a sense I so desperately needed to remember. Defeated by distance, I had to surrender.

My voice was strained with pent-up resentment, "You may say or not say what you want, but I will. I miss you."

His eyes lit up with sparks, but the rest of him didn't move.

Quicker than I expected, he cut through his hesitation. "I miss you too, Ada."

I dug my elbow into the side of my knee and pressed my cheek into my fist. The passion was brewing within, but the only response I had was a little smile with a little blush.

"At least I can still do that?" he peeped.

"What?" I grinned harder.

His eyes narrowed from a smile, "Make you smile a little."

I threw back my head and showed him my teeth. "Is this 'a little'?"

Hearing him chuckle, brought a tingling flush to my face and a twist in my belly.

I can still make you laugh.

There was a problem with what I did, though. I remembered how my main reason for wanting to talk to him had to come about sooner than later.

His smile disappeared as I had guessed when I questioned, "So, Ezra, what is... going on with the business?"

"Chauvin is in charge," he answered without delay.

That raggedy ass bitch.

"Of what?" I scoffed, as the name inspired a twitch under my eye.

"Leoné Inves--"

Defensive, I interrupted, "Why, are you dead?"

Whittling that question into a joke felt a little despicable after the months of worrying about him.

Oddly enough, Ezra smiled and answered, "Yes."

But he wasn't kidding. A curled set of lips didn't match the honest vacancy behind his eyes. He was still down; a gravity I could see. However, things were different now, as I was told where the anchor hit the bottom of the ocean.

The sands of time were no fun to play with, yet we spread it in a sandy fog that clouded the depths-- scraping our tilted anchors along the soft bottom as we tried to sail away from one another. But now we were still; the water was clear through the breaths of the ocean. The view remained infinite; there was no shore for miles. Yet, I wasn't lost.

"Ezra?" I called, effortlessly sparking attention in his face. "You're not dead."

My victory was short-lived as I lost him to the window again, "I'm not alive either."

"Why? What's missing?"

I caught a long glimpse of green before he shuttled them back to a more scenic view. The silence was telling, but we both knew that wasn't the answer I was looking for.

Contending the burning sensations of anguish, my voice trembled, "Did you love your job?"

"I love finance, and I love my father," he recited.

My eyes narrowed, "Hmm, you've phrased it as though they're mutually exclusive and Leone Investments is the coin."

"I phrased it that way because I knew you would understand." Ezra's bright light was absent, and I felt the bitter chill of his words.

Humorless, I was sensitive of the beaten down atmosphere. "But Leoné Investments... you inherited it from your father, I thought it was yours?"

"It was."

"So you gave it away?"

"Not quite..."

"So it still belongs to you. But that piece of shit and company is in charge surely fucking things up to work in their favor right now, huh?" I countered.

Ezra shook his head with disapproval, "I abandoned it, Ada. I abandoned my job and my father's legacy."

"So, now... the two come hand-in-hand?" I questioned, though I wasn't lost on his answers.

C'mon, you can figure it out, Ezra.

He hunched over in frustration and rubbed his temples. "The fact that I'm indecisive about what I want is why I lost it."

"Or is it due to you not wanting to work for what it is that you actually want?" I countered again.

He looked up to me, brows furrowed in confusion.

I shrugged, "It sounds to me like you love Leoné Investments, but you weren't going there for you."

He was suddenly animated with distress, "But I was! I had goals... a vision as to where I wanted to take my father's business. To expand it into something greater."

"And I saw you doing that with Reagan Digital," I confirmed with crossed arms.

Ezra laughed, "Oh Ada, if only you knew how my father felt about that choice."

Abruptly, he jumped up from his seat and spread his fingers before closing them into tight fists. He stormed behind his couch and paced, roughly raking his fingers through his hair. Ezra was being combative, but not with me.

He pressed his hands together and shook them, exclaiming with dark desperation, "Ada, if only you knew how he reacted to every executive decision! Everything! Everything I tried, everything I did was wrong!"

I was startled, but remained silent.

"To constantly disappoint the only person you've ever had in your life... the only person that said they loved you. I don't know how he could he love me when I know my existence has burdened him since before I was born."

This hurts.

He took several breaths, curling in and licking his lips. His nostrils flared as his chest puffed with anger he fought to subside. I paced my own breaths and focused on him with sincerity in my intent.

I can see when a piece of your heart can't stop and you're begging and you're pleading.

Tempered and honest, I didn't fear my interjection, "I love you, Ezra."

He paused. Slowly, he cranked his head to the left, looking at me on the screen from afar. The tension lessened in his colored face.

"I promise you, those words are not weapons... but they're not bandages either," I confessed in my benevolence.

He approached the low back of his couch and knelt. Folding his arms over them, he cradled his chin into his arms and kept his red face to me. While we all shared our individual pains, it amazed me how much one broken spirit could commune with another without saying a word.

The last time you were on your knees you were crying then too.

"Could we just stay like this for a moment?" he huffed with a sharp tongue that I knew wasn't meant to offend.

"Of course," I nodded, and I allowed myself to be under the dissecting eye of a distressed soul.

Softly, I curled my fingers and pressed the back of my nails against my lips. Our attention was unwavering from one another, though juxtaposition existed. With noisy breaths, he fought the imprisonment. His frustration delivered a scrutinizing gaze, while my wistful stare hoped for reconciliation.

"I need to see you," he stated with wrathful exasperation and a darkened expression.

I nodded and calmly reassured him, "Okay. We can make that happen soon."

Finally, he hid his head away in the sanctuary of his arms. He was still for a moment, as I wished he was feeling better. I didn't receive a direct answer once he revealed his face again, but he did return to his feet to sit back on his couch. Ezra's internal battle wasn't over as chest continued to puff, but the rhythm was much softer. He was so tired, the bag under his reddened eyes being indicative of nothing else. The most I could do was give to him, at this time-- to help him remedy living nightmares.

"May I share with you something my mom still has to say to me to this day?" I asked quietly.

Sorrowful defeat sheltered his reply, "Of course, Ada."

I looked down at purring cat and rubbed my thumb between her ears. With a smirk, I recounted my reveries. "She'd touch the top of my head and sigh, 'Darling, this is your field of dreams. Don't look to me to cultivate it when only you know where you've planted the seeds.' "

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Number of hidden songs: 1

A/N: Woo... that long gap between uploads. I know >_<, I apologize tenfold! However I started this chapter last month, and was able to clean it up and complete over the last two days since the spring semester ended! I have only one semester left of graduate school, and it should be less demanding because I also won't be in the middle of ten thousand other things in life happening-- like a move. I'm so happy to finally be on my summer break, and hope to upload as much as I can while I have this freedom! :)

XOXO,

M