Dear Readers: Let's head back to Eldor's perfect little house by the Acropolis, where Atria has just spent the night safe and sound... Will she stay another day, or revert to her old ways and run away...?

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Scene 8: The Reason

A.D. 2015

She heard his voice, as she began down the stairs. Having gotten out of bed as soon as she awoke, hurriedly washed up and rushed out into the hallway, not about to overstay her welcome in his guestroom. Or in his house. She had to step out, get some air. Maybe never come back.

He was on the phone with someone, Atria figured. With a girl. He sounded happy. And that made her sad. Why was her heart so stupid?

She saw him, as she neared the bottom stair. Standing at the far end of the living room, with his back toward her, so that he wouldn’t even see her if she wanted to slip out. He had asked her to promise not to leave again without saying goodbye. Maybe she’d agreed, with a weak nod, last night—but she had been half-conscious, right? That didn’t count.

“Yes. And you can include the place in your guidebook this time. In fact, you probably have to—the Acropolis is rather iconic, after all,” Eldor spoke into the receiver. Happily. Almost giddily. Ugh.

On the other end replied a voice that Atria couldn’t hear, from this distance, but already resented. She tiptoed toward the front door.

“It’s really my pleasure. And thank you again for understanding about last night,” he expressed. “Okay; sounds great. I’ll see you soon.”

Damn it—the call was ending. She had almost escaped.

“Hey…!” he exclaimed as soon as he’d hung up, coming toward her as she approached the foyer. “Heading out already?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back.” Atria wasn’t sure yet whether she was lying.

“Okay,” he uttered, doubtful and concerned. “Did you sleep well?”

She proceeded toward the door. “Like a baby, thanks. Bye.”

“Atria…”

The way he breathed her name, then, made her stop. It sounded too much like the boy from the attic. As if they had never grown up. Even if she could shut out the man, the perfect man he had become, leave him behind without a real goodbye, all for self-preservation and to keep on getting by—she couldn’t do that to the boy. It wasn’t right.

She stood still, pursed her lips and heaved a sigh. “Sorry,” she murmured, meaning it. “I just… I’m just not really used to this.”

He came a little closer, cocked his head. “Used to what?”

“Us,” she blurted out, immediately feeling the need to elaborate. “I mean—being in the same house, in the same room as you. It’s… it’s been a long time, you know? Since those days. Since… that night.”

His head dipped in a low, heavy nod. “It has. Fifteen years. You were so young; we both were.” A pause. “You still think about that?”

Atria shrugged, her faltering heart not strong enough to let her meet his gaze. “It’s hard not to, around you. Just need some air, okay?”

“Of course. Let’s… sit out on the porch?” he suggested, clearly eager for her not to leave the premises. His otherwise fearless soul afraid of never seeing her again. “Or the balcony upstairs? It gets some great air…”

She shook her head. “Not just air. Need a little space, too.”

He bit his tongue. Nodded again. It looked like his head weighed a ton.

This whole thing sucked. A lot. She had to lighten up the mood, a little bit. “And some new clothes. This dress from the airport is butt-ugly.”

That tugged the corner of his mouth into a smile, a silent laugh. “Sure. Shop your heart out. The shops in Plaka sell a lot of summer dresses,” he told her, referring to the tourist-friendly neighborhood nearby. “Some are overpriced, but some are pretty cheap. And pretty.”

“Cheap and pretty,” she mindlessly echoed. “Ain’t that just me.”

Oh, she so should not have said that. Could practically hear his heart breaking, to know how just how little she thought of herself.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, staring at her feet so as not to see his heart bleed through his shirt. “That voice is, uh, supposed to stay inside my head.”

“No, it’s not,” he denied. “I’m here to hear her out. And tell her off.”

Whatever little filter there might usually have been between Atria's brain and mouth was not working too well today. “Would you just stop being so perfect for a sec?” she complained. “It makes me sick.”

He looked a little shocked, at first. But then he started smiling.

And she couldn’t help but mirror it. It had been funny, even if the humor hadn’t been intended.

She finally met his eyes and gazed at him awhile, contemplating and admiring him in all his brilliant glory. A heart of gold forged from the fires of darkness, somehow. The past they’d shared, from which they had gone down such different paths—she receding into shadow, he transcending toward the light, till he himself became the brightest beacon. It was seriously breathtaking. Blinding in all its beauty, and impossible for Atria to fathom.

“How the hell did you turn out like this?” she whispered, wondering whether she had said the words aloud or in her mind.

Either way, he had heard them. And his ebon eyes held all the answers now. He said them out loud anyway. “Truly? Because of you. You were the reason I fought as a boy, and that’s why I fight as a man, for what’s right. Every day. I will never stop fighting for you. For the little girl, who needed me to light up all the darkness in the world.”

Fuck. Having feelings was so hard. Especially when she’d spent most of her life digging a deep, dark grave for them to just stay buried.

It had been a big mistake to make eye contact, but she couldn’t break it now. She wished he were a little less beautiful. Inside or out.

He continued. “And I meant it. That I love you more than anyone. I don’t know if you heard me, or believed me, saying it last night…”

“I did,” she broke in all of a sudden, unable to stomach him trying to tell her again. “Hear you, that is. Love’s just a dirty word, because it means too many different things. To me that makes it nothing.”

Well, now the mood was officially beyond all hope of lightening.

After a silence that lasted too long but was over much too soon, she started toward the door again. “All right. Heading out.”

“Wait—” he exhorted. “You should have something to eat…”

 Seriously? “What are you now, a bed and breakfast?”

“No. Your big brother. And I’ll play the part of mother, if I have to. You should eat something.” He hastened over toward the kitchen.

It was sad, to see him care like this. “I’ll stop by a cafe, thanks.”

“Some cash, then? Credit card? I thought you came here broke…”

“Oh, honey, a girl like me can make a lot of money in one night,” she sniggered. Willing to let him imagine the worst about what she had done last night, if that was what he would assume. It wasn’t so far from the truth.

He shut his eyes in an extended blink. “Okay,” he sighed, more to himself than in reply. Visibly fighting the urge to keep her here against her will. To force her not to ever leave, to keep her safe and sound. Just like the little girl that she would always be to him. “Well, I’m leaving at noon for the Acropolis—”

“You mean for your date,” she muttered, quietly enough for Eldor to pretend he hadn’t heard.

“—so here’s a key, in case I’m not here when you get back.”

“I’ll be back before then. Promise.” She actually fully intended to keep this one. Wanted to see him again before he went on this damn date. Whereas her own heartbreak pushed her away from him, she realized now that envy seemed to pull her right back in. Ugh. So fucked up.

She shopped around in Plaka, bought a bunch of pretty dresses, and then donned the most striking one among them, in the changing room of the last store that she visited. The vision in the full-length mirror was of a veritable goddess. The contrast of crisp white against the bronze glow of her skin, sharpened by the dark locks spilling over one bare shoulder, the fabric so fine as to nearly be sheer, bringing each and every curve into relief. It had actually been cheap, despite being so divinely flattering. But it was pretty. Very pretty. She felt good.

Ready to see Eldor again, before this date of his.

Returning to his perfect little house, she saw to her disgust that the date had already begun. He and some girl were sitting on his porch.

“So how was it?” she heard Eldor ask. “Your graduation?”

The girl answered, and Atria found herself gritting her teeth at the sound of her voice. “Oh, I… I actually had to miss the ceremony.”

Eldor nodded that beautiful head. “Ah. I won’t probe as to why.”

“It’s fine. It’s just—” the girl halted as her brown eyes rose to meet approaching emeralds, “—maybe a story for another time…”

Atria arrived and flashed a succubus’s smile. “Oh, don’t mind me.”

Eldor turned, not having seen or heard her coming. “Atria,” he greeted her, his eyes a whit wider than usual. “This is Cloe; I met her yesterday—”

“Yeah, and took her out to dinner. Second date already?”

He swallowed, knowing better than to answer that. “She’s in Greece writing for a travel guide, reviewing all the sights to see. So I offered to take her up to the Acropolis. Being so close by.”

“Not without some sweet chitchat beforehand, I see. Aren’t you two so cute,” she cooed, tilting her head so that her sable tresses caught the sun more lustrously, evergreen eyes glimmering at the unwelcome stranger. “Does canoodling with hotties fit your job description, too?”

Eldor shifted in his seat, adorably uncomfortable. “Atria…”

“Relax. I’m sure the girl can take a joke. Can’t you, Cloe?” Atria teased. “So. I’m Atria. Sort of Eldor’s little sister, but not really.”

The Cloe girl blinked like a doe. “It’s… um… nice to meet you…”

“Don’t lie. I’m not very nice.”

“You’ll, uh… get used to her…” Eldor strove to reassure his date.

“Oh, will she, now? Already set on keeping her around awhile?”

There were no crickets at this hour, but the silence seemed to chirp to that effect.

“You lovebirds carry on. Like I said, don’t mind me…” Atria sashayed toward the door, about to head inside.

She then stopped in her tracks upon hearing Eldor ask Cloe about a certain academic prospect in the near future for her.

“Oh—you’re going to Sterling Law?” she chimed in casually. “I was thinking of applying.”

“Excuse me?” Eldor almost sounded angry. It was super hot. “You swore off grad school yesterday when I suggested you consider Sterling.”

“Can’t a girl change her mind?”

“Overnight?”

“Sure. We’re hormonal.”

Cloe stood up and stepped off to the side, feigning an incoming phone call.

Eldor stared at his sort-of sister. “You do know that this year’s admissions cycle is over? Or at least that law schools won't be accepting any new applications this late in the game. I realize you’re probably good at… pulling strings, to get around that kind of thing. But you can’t forge an LSAT.”

“Hey, hey—give me some credit,” Atria reproved in a petulant purr. “I’ve already taken it. Scored well enough to get in anywhere I’d want.”

It was true. Luckily that test hadn’t required any studying. It was all about how one’s brain worked, rather than how much content one could memorize or anything. The test was hard as hell, for sure; but all the answers had come naturally to her. She had just waltzed into a test center one morning in stilettos, slightly hungover, and dominated it.

Well, almost dominated it. Not quite a perfect score—only a small handful achieved that every year—but damn close. That Cloe bitch probably scored perfect, ugh.

Eldor was staring at her still. And not exactly in the way she would’ve hoped, wearing this dress.

“What,” she snapped at him, “surprised to see I’ve got a brain?”

He shook his head. “No. Just can’t see why you took that test. It doesn’t… fit in with the rest of your life story very clearly.”

Atria caught the Cloe girl eyeing them from the end of the porch. She shrugged, deciding now that it was time to head inside. “I took it to prove something to someone,” she explained to Eldor. “It’s a story for another time.”

“Not longer than five years ago, I hope? Those scores expire…”

She rolled her eyes royally. “Thanks for the reminder, Mom.”

“And Atria…” his voice stopped her at the doorstep. It sounded like the boy from the attic again. “Another bit of brotherly, or motherly, advice: you’ve got nothing to prove. Maybe to yourself—but not to anybody else.”

Whatever. She didn’t have time to reflect on his wisdom. Not now.

Once inside, Atria sat down to start writing her admissions essay. Knowing how much of an impact these few paragraphs would have to make, to get her into the nation’s top law school. Her test scores and string-pulling tricks would help to get her foot in the door, even long after the application period was over—but this essay, she knew, would have to get her in.

So she gathered up the strength and sense of purpose to compose a true personal statement. Drawing on the darkest moment of her life, the source of her views on the death penalty. And on life and death itself. Which were essentially one in the same, to her.

Especially after the super creepy power that she’d possibly discovered in herself last night… But anyway. She couldn’t, shouldn’t think about that now.

She sat and delved into her past. Into the deep, dark grave she’d dug for all her demons. And she wrote. 

When I was eight years old, I killed a man. Intentionally. And it was not in self-defense; it was for a far better reason…

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Any thoughts, feels, about #Eldria? About Atria's past, or her future? About her finally crossing paths with Cloe here?

Next scene, we'll catch up with Miss Primor and Prof, in a scene that I hope you will all find interesting and possibly illuminating  ;)

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