Falling

by dreamerLily

Summary:

It takes one moment. One moment on a dreary rainy day for Helena to realize just how much she loves Elias, the boy she's grown up with.

Notes:

I read Ember in the Ashes again yesterday and Elias, you have my heart. I can imagine falling in love with someone like him just as Helena did.
Here's what I imagine Helena felt when she fell in love.
This fandom is tiny so I hope someone enjoys it as much as I did writing it. Leave a review if you did!
Always Victorious ;)

A handful of moments. Quicker than she could say "stop".

That was how long it took for her to realize she was in love. 

The realization encapsulated the tiny moments she’d disregarded over the years until it was staring her in the face. It was a culmination, falling off the precipice of uncertainty into a dark free fall.

She remembers the moment with stark clarity; the incessant sound of raindrops pelting against the glass windows, the damp air weighing her breaths, the sweat soaked collar of her uniform sticking against her skin uncomfortably and the roughness of the stone floor under her foot. The small child in front of them lets out an involuntary teary filled laugh, amused by the joke Elias cracked, his elbows still bleeding from the beating he’d received earlier. Elia’s long fingers grasp the skin above his elbows gently, a smile crinkling his eyes. 

The boy had been beaten up by fellow classmates after performing poorly in his training. Ganged up, he was lying crouched in the middle of the pack fending off their kicks when they’d found him. She’d whistled to catch the groups attention but it took one look at man standing next to her for the attackers, three years younger to them, to back away in fear. 

She felt the heat radiating from him behind her, well aware how his off-white shirt stuck to his skin from their training where he’d beaten everyone, yet again. She glanced at him, her best friend, the best fighter of Blackcliff Academy, Elias. For a second, she saw what others did. The handsome cold face in an impenetrable mask, the barely restrained violence emanating from his skin and the burning blue eyes. You had to be a kind of demon to survive Blackcliff but a special kind to lead it. 

The frightened boy stared at Elias, who still hadn’t uttered a word, before pulling his friends, all of whom gaped at the two of them. 

“Scram”, she said and they were off. She didn’t have much pity for the boy crouching either. The academy made certain to train that out of everyone. If you couldn’t survive, you didn’t belong here. She remembered the days she’d been beaten until she’d learnt fight back as viciously. Conniving and ruthless, that was who a mask was. 

Elias walked towards the boy, kneeling as he pulled him up. A moment after his eyes confirmed the boy hadn’t suffered any major injuries, his face transformed. 

There he was, the friend whose glimpses she saw less and less. The soft eyes scanning all the boys wound, the little smirk on his lips and the barely reigned concern for anyone hurting. 

She walked towards them as he made a joke, brushing off the dust on the boys uniform. She should stop him. Anyone could walk on them anytime and they still had another class to attend. Dex would be waiting. 

But his laugh caught her up. A genuine hoarse sound so unrestrained from the smiles he gave. The little boy stared at him in awe, wiping his tears. In the damp, dreary and pain clad Blackcliff halls, Elias was fire and warmth burning them alive with his intensity. 

His low softened tone traveled up her spine catching her off guard. How was the boy she’d met alive after all these years when she could barely recognize herself? The boy with a bleeding heart, who stole food for the younger kids, whose platoon sweared loyalty to him as if he was worth fighting for, whose wink lightened her, alighting her with something strange. 

She gasped, the realization striking her with full force. The want - no, the need - to have him, to be the one receiving those laughs consumed her. She took a step back, then another. He still hadn’t looked up at her, too consumed with giving some advice to the boy. But her heart, skies. If she stood next to him, he’d probably hear her. Her breath came unsteadily as she took one last glance at them; the ends of his wet hair sticking against his nape, broad shoulders covering the boy whose eyes flickered with respect and warmth she barely saw in Blackcliff.

Turning on her heel, she ran blindly, looking for a corner to hide her and her chipping cold heart.