Let's end Episode 8 back with Cloe in modern-day Greece... :)

______________

Scene 12: Close

A.D. 2015

It would be hard to leave this place that had begun to feel like home, but she'd be back again before her trip was done. She smiled at that, exchanging heartfelt farewell hugs with all the hostel staff as she gathered her bags, warmed by their sweet goodbyes and by the light that filtered through the courtyard trellis from the bright Athenian sun.

At least she was heading from one breathtaking place to another; if the reviews by previous years' travel-writers were any indication, researching and exploring the Greek islands was going to be amazing.

All the more so because she would be island-hopping with her epic fantasy hero. Cloe was glad that she'd taken her mom's advice to get in touch with him again. Even if her silly heart was hopelessly obsessed with someone else, her mind and her soul or whatever were obviously tied to Eldor's, in one way or another. He meant a lot to her — after all, he was the real-life rendering of her most precious character — and now that she knew he existed on earth, her life had felt empty without him, ever since they'd said goodbye.

So yesterday, she had summoned the guts to call him up and ask if he'd be willing to continue hanging out as friends while she was traveling in Greece, expressing how sincerely she valued his company. The paragon he was, of course, Eldor had happily agreed.

And as she now stepped out of the Scholar & Journeyer's Inn, he greeted her outside with his signature I'm-perfect-but-too-noble-to-admit-it grin.

She smiled back at him, nearly tripping on the doorstep from some awful blend of awe and awkwardness — his presence still had that effect — but managing to catch herself, averting embarrassment at the last possible millisecond. "Hey! It's so nice to see you again."

"You, too. It was really great to hear from you."

He reached to help her with her big unwieldy backpack, which made her worry if her almost-accident had been apparent. But she calmed down a bit after reassuring herself that the guy was chivalry incarnate, so that wasn't necessarily what the gesture meant.

At any rate, Cloe could carry it herself; she tried to insist, but Eldor's chivalry ended up being impossible to resist, especially since he hefted the bulky load as easily as if it were a freaking toothpick.

"Well, thanks," she conceded as she let go of the large turquoise luggage, still holding onto the smaller of her two backpacks, the bright cherry red. He had offered to take it too, but she'd refused. "And thanks so much for... understanding, and for agreeing to be friends."

He shrugged, the toothpick lifting effortlessly on his statuesque shoulders, along with the baggage that he'd brought for himself on the islands. Three toothpicks in total. "What is there not to understand."

Hm, where to begin, Cloe responded in her head — the fact that you exist? That you're too flawless for a girl like me — or anybody, really — to reject? And that after I gracelessly pushed you away, I had the nerve to ask if you might want to reconnect? She cleared her throat. "Well, there's the fact that you're quite literally perfect, and..."

He opened his stupidly beautiful mouth to begin to deny.

She put up a hand to stop him. "...don't even try. Everyone knows it's true, except for you, since modesty has to be one of your million virtues. So I just want to say — and even though this is the most cliché line in the history of ever, please know that I mean it from the bottom of my totally imperfect heart — it's absolutely me, not you."

He looked amused, as if what she had said was cute. "No worries, Cloe. It's neither one of us, and both. That kind of thing takes two."

True... Eye contact felt sort of weird right now, so her eyes darted down, uncertain what to do. "I guess. But still, I'm just..."

"In love with someone else?"

Her gaze flashed up to meet his, at that, with a few spastic blinks.

Eldor bit his lip. "Wow, sorry, I did it again — overstepped..."

"Oh, not at all," she shook her head, lowered her gaze again, not sure how her crazy crush had been so obvious. "I'm just... a mess."

He let out one of his adorably soft little chuckles; she could tell that he was still ashamed about the guess that he'd expressed. "Everyone is, more or less. Part of being human, right?"

"Right," she sighed, even though he was anything but. "Anyway, like I said on the phone yesterday, I really hope to have you in my life. We haven't known each other very long, but I... admire the shit out of you—" great, I'm sure the that potty mouth is charming to the Prince, she silently scolded herself, "—and truly value and enjoy the time we spend..."

"Listen, I get it," he smoothly interjected. "And that much is mutual. Happy to be a friend."

She smiled, relieved that he had cut her off before she'd gone on to make more of a bumbling fool of herself. "Okay, great. So..."

He gestured ahead toward the beckoning road. "Let's go?"

Oh, right — they had a ferry to catch to Mykonos. Leave it to Cloe to miss the boat because she'd wasted time stalling at the doorstep to voice her incoherent thoughts and feelings, as if that had helped things.

Somehow, though, in spite of everything and how strained the first few days of this dynamic of forced friendship should have been, within minutes they were completely comfortable with each other again as they strolled down the street, sharing laughs and swapping stories on the bus ride from Syntagma to Piraeus Port, chatting with all the ease in the world as the ferry arrived and as they hopped aboard.

And Cloe almost wondered if this... if this was actually how happy couples were supposed to be. Wondered if she was an idiot to hope for something more. She had no clue what it was supposed to be like, to be in a relationship with somebody you 'loved', who 'loved' you too. Wondered how it was for all the other girls who had experienced it before.

She figured fairytales and Disney movies tended to inflate the epic magic of that one-true-love and stuff, but... by how much? Could she hope to come close? Maybe this was close — was it close enough?

Her heart told her it wasn't, but sometimes she wished her heart would just shut up.

It never did, but hours later as the boat approached Mykonos, the sight of the isle was striking enough to help her temporarily forget. The pretty structures of pristine white-painted stone, accented with vivid pops of blue and other summery hues, all bright and stark against the backdrop of dark rock, the landscape of the isle perched so peacefully upon the sparkling sea... the color of the sea, of course, just like a certain pair of eyes.

She never actually forgot, especially not when she tried.

"Are you sure you want to stay at the hostel with me?" she asked Eldor for the thousandth time as they disembarked, referring to the rather seedy hostel where she herself would have to stay for research purposes. "Last year's reviews were really shabby, and I know you can afford to sleep a lot more comfortably, stay someplace fancy—"

For the thousandth time, he declined. "What kind of friend would I be then," he answered playfully. "Leaving you to suffer in sixteen-bunk rooms stinking of sweaty party people while I sip complimentary drinks and order overpriced room service? Not my style anyway."

So they boarded the crowded shuttle bus from the port to Party Paradise — at least the first half of the hostel's name was apt, Cloe mused as they arrived. After checking in and claiming two bunks in their stifling dorm room, they ditched the trashy place as quickly as they could, leaving behind the deafening racket of tasteless disco beats and senseless drunken shrieks. Caught the next bus to Mykonos Town, the heart of the isle where all the best food was to be found. Located the restaurant that had gotten the best reviews in last year's guidebook — a lovely little place specializing in homemade pasta, reportedly better than many spots in Italy — sighing with hunger and exhaustion from their travels as they finally sat down.

Cloe's truffle tortellini was among the most mind-blowing things she'd ever tasted, and Eldor's creamy carbonara dish was equally delicious. They shared the two platters, on Cloe's suggestion, which she hoped hadn't seemed romantic or anything. It's not as if they were pulling a Lady and the Tramp spaghetti smooch. Food this good just had to be shared; the arrangement wasn't meant to be Disney-cute.

"So how is Atria?" Cloe asked out of the blue, maybe on an impulse to counteract the cuteness of this whole sharing thing, by reminding Eldor of the girl in his life who was way more in his league — a more suitable target of his attraction and affection, in Cloe's opinion. And also out of genuine curiosity as to what the stunner was up to.

His dark eyes darkened slightly, and he seemed to take a longer time chewing and swallowing his current mouthful of fettuccine. "Not sure, actually. She, uh, doesn't really keep in touch with me."

Ah, so that living situation had been temporary. Interesting. "I see."

They spent the next few minutes raving about the tortellini. It really was that good, but maybe the need to change the subject had made them linger longer on the topic than one otherwise would. Maybe.

They had just polished off their plates, grabbing thick wedges of bread to mop up all the sauce, when he took it upon himself to choose the next topic. "So am I ever going to hear more about your novel?"

Ugh, fuck! Now it was Cloe's turn to take ten hours chewing and swallowing a chunk of sauce-dipped crust. Followed by an ungraceful guzzle of water. "Um, it's... it's really not that interesting."

"Somehow I doubt that."

Yeah, no kidding, that's because you're the freaking star of it. "I... I guess I don't like to talk much about my writing," she lied. "Kind of shy."

"Ah, totally respect that. Won't pry."

"Thanks," Cloe murmured, remembering then that part of the reason she was supposed to have reconnected with Eldor was to try to find out more about her... 'power'. But how was that even going to work? Telling him about the whole fictional character thing didn't seem like the smoothest approach... she would have to figure something out, she supposed.

But she also remembered, then, one of the other reasons: her secret little hope that spending time with Eldor might increase her chances of crossing paths with Ryder again. Whether or not that ever happened, she truly wanted Eldor in her life — so that hadn't actually affected her decision to reconnect with him. But if, by chance or by fate or whatever, it ever did happen...

"Hey, how much do you, um, keep in touch with your friends from the military?" she asked as she casually reached for the dessert menu, despite already being stuffed out of her mind from all the scrumptious fatty carbs.

He canted his head, picking up his own copy of the dessert list, probably just to be polite so that she wouldn't look like a pig. "That's a random question."

"I know, but since I didn't want to talk about my novel, I figured it was on me to pick a new topic," she replied with a shrug, trying to come off as nonchalant. "And that's... just what came to mind."

He smiled. "Makes sense. I keep in touch with some. Hey, a couple of them are actually in Greece this summer, if you'd like to meet them."

Her heart sort of forgot how to beat. "Ah, really? Yeah, I'd love to."

"Cool. Although, uh — one of the guys is... he's been in a pretty bad state, ever since the end of his last deployment. I don't reach out to him much — he mostly likes to keep to himself, at the moment."

"Oh..." That couldn't possibly be Ryder, right? Or could it be? Keeping to himself, while here with his Barbie-doll wife...?

"The other guy is here on his honeymoon. Might be on Mykonos now, in fact. I was thinking I should try to say hi to them anyway for a second, while I'm on the islands — maybe we could all grab a drink or something."

Cloe's heart hadn't yet resumed beating, and as Eldor pulled out his phone, she knew it never would until she knew if she might see those bay-blue eyes again.

"I'll ask him," Eldor declared, shooting a quick text to his best friend.

The answer came moments after he had hit 'send'.

In the instant just before he told her what the answer was, there was still hope. And just in case that fragile hope was set to die, as hope too often did, she almost wished the moment didn't have to end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Any thoughts, feels, hopes for #Cloder? ;)

Next scene, we'll kick off Episode 9 back in B.C. in Rider's camp...

** And if you liked this one, please don't forget to vote! :) **