Chapter 14

XIV. Believe

THE WALLS I HAD built over the years... ever since I was a child, the walls I had renovated, protected and learned how to embrace have crumbled underneath our feet, shattering into fragments of what it used to be in a matter of seconds when he kissed me. The pain that I've kept inside me for so long subsided and was replaced with an overwhelming sensation that overpowered everything. It's like he had penetrated right into my soul, which was a feeling so surreal I forgot how to react.

My body was stunned frozen like I had been splashed with ice cold water. I still couldn't fathom what was happening and all I could do was stand still, looking at his closed eyes while he's kissing me very gently yet fervently as if he was yearning to do that for a long time. I could feel the heat of his body gush through mine, making me let out a small whimper. It seemed to encourage him even more. I grasped on his shirt tighter, feeling my lungs complain the lack of oxygen. This is my first time ever kissing a man, and I didn't expect for it to feel like I was lost in a trance. Were kisses supposed to remind me that I'm still alive? Was it supposed to feel like I was falling in love all over again?

I didn't know for how long he was kissing me. It could have taken seconds, minutes or maybe even hours. My mind was hazy, like it had stopped functioning and all it could comprehend is the fact that... I'm kissing Piers Nivans.

When he finally pulled away, we were both panting for lack of air. His hands still cupped on my dazed face, I stared at his flushed face looking back at my parted lips and I knew right then that he wanted to kiss me again... which I certainly didn't mind if he ever did.

"Piers..." I muttered, and that was also the time that I could finally go back to reality, little by little.

He couldn't withstand the little smile that etched on his rosy lips, as if he was happy and satisfied, "Cheryl..." He breathed, "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

"What... w-what's..." I couldn't form a coherent response as his face was so close to mine. I also don't know what to focus on first: thinking about the proper words to say or my anticipation for him to kiss me again. He must have noticed it and so he straightened his posture then his hands travelled down to hold my waist, which made me start to think is his favorite move.

"You didn't need it at the time. I didn't want to add more burden than you're already carrying. I don't want to pressure you... because I know that you're still thinking about a lot of things. I just want to be there for you every step of the way until the day comes when you can think about me, too."

"Piers... I..." My mind is still cloudy and I wanted to smack myself for it. I wanted to say something, to reassure him, make everything okay between us-anything!

At my speechless state, he nodded his head in understanding. "It's okay, Cheryl. What's important to me is what we feel for each other."

It's not that I'm having doubts about him. Hell, it's the other way around. We're in love with each other but I'm the one who keeps on holding us back. I keep on convincing myself that he doesn't deserve this kind of burden. This didn't have to be so complicated. How he could stay in love with a person like me is beyond my comprehension. I know I'm the problem, I keep beating myself up. I don't know if I ever worth something aside from the black market but can anyone really blame me? I've been hurt my whole life... I'm afraid that I might end up hurting him, too.

And so, we just stayed quiet and stared at each other. Then he pulled me closer into his arms. I inhaled in his scent and felt his warmth, imprinting it in my mind and body.

I ran and lifted my leg, disregarding modesty, to launch a swift kick at Phyllis to which she easily blocked it using her arms shielded on the side of her head.

I quickly recovered and moved to punch her but she blocked again using her palm. I tried to retrieve my hand but her grip was strong. She smirked as she bent my arm and spun me around to secure my head in a lock, my back facing her. She tightened her iron grasp on my neck making me grunt. I struggled but it only caused her to gradually tighten her hold each attempt of resistance, choking me a little.

"Are you going to yield?" She mumbled into my ear in a taunting tone, and I shook my head furiously. I lifted my leg upward to hit her on the face, making her yelp and resulting her to loosen her grip for a moment. I took it as an opening to elbow her on the stomach and perform a tumble away from her, creating a safe distance between us.

Despite the pain, Phyllis still managed to crack a short laugh while holding onto her stomach. I held my neck, panting whilst my free hand rested on my knee. We looked into each other's eyes, the same glint mirroring one's expression. I was the first one to break the thick atmosphere and zeroed in on her.

To conclude our training session for the day, I was laying on the matted floor with a bleeding nose with Phyllis kneeling between my body, her wooden combat knife hovered against my neck. Her stern expression was telling me something I couldn't decipher and before I could think any further, the sound of our combat instructor's voice snapped us out of our trance. Phyllis stood up which made my body relax, my arm going up to wipe the blood off my nose.

Ms. Therese chastised me, telling me the reason why I kept on losing to Piers' cousin. It was because I always overlook the blind spots, that I always forget that adrenaline rush improves a person's strength. Every time Phyllis and I simulate a fight, I was always the one who ends up sitting on the floor. I was too soft and weak. She gave me pointers to work more on my flexibility, which I listened with dismissive ears. When the classes were over, Ms. Therese gave us a first aid kit to tend to our wounds then she left us.

"Do you think that I'm weak?" I muttered as Phyllis treated my gashes. She was quiet which was very unusual as she was very talkative to begin with.

She stopped then raised her head to give me incredulous look, "Do you?" She replied, then she pouted upon seeing my confused reaction. "You're weak because that's what you always tell yourself." She sighed, then looked into my eyes. "Your attacks were too reckless and sloppy, Cheryl. You're not usually like that. Do you have a problem?" She asked me, genuine worry lingering in her bright hazel eyes.

I shook my head. I heaved out a deep sigh, looking down upon our bruised hands. I don't know whether if I should tell her what's been bothering me because she is still too young to understand.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" She reassured me.

"You're still too young to understand, Phyllis."

She frowned, as she didn't want to be treated like a child. "Try me then."

I pursed my lips in a firm line, debating whether I'd ask her the question or not. Phyllis tilted her head to take a closer view of my face and she was patient enough. In the end, I decided to spill it all out.

"Phyllis," I started, "What does it take to deserve a person?"

Phyllis blinked her eyes, surprised at the sudden question. I expected for her to laugh but instead she creased her forehead in confusion, "What?"

I smiled, "See? You're still too young."

She shook her head, "No, no. I just don't understand. It's like you're telling me what are the qualifications in order to call yourself deserving of a person's love?" I nodded my head slowly, and her expression switched to one of understanding. She shifted on her seat, then looked at something far away as if she was reminiscing and refreshing some memories. Then she smiled, and looked back at me. "Cheryl, listen," She leaned back on her seat, relaxed. "My Mom told me this once when I asked her how she fell in love with Dad even though he's always away in tours of duty. It's true that everything has qualifications. Like for example, in order to become a doctor, you have to have a degree, have these characteristics and stuff; in order to become a soldier, you'll need to be strong-willed, courageous and brave... basically, you have to be something in order to be deserving of something." She paused, looking at me to see if I was catching up with her sentiments. I nodded for her to continue. "But not love. Love is... something that goes beyond every limit. It confuses even the most intelligent person in the world. It overlooks everything. Whether you tell yourself that you're a mess, worthless, or you've set all of your worst in front of them, there's always this one person who will choose to stay with you."

"Because they pity me?"

Phyllis snorted, "No. It's just that... they look past and embrace all of the flaws because it's a part of who you are. It will hurt them more if..." She trailed off, searching for the right words to say, "if they live a life without their loved ones in it." She looked at me, "I told my mother that it looked like my father didn't do anything to deserve her. But did you know what she replied?" She grinned, "'It may look like that to some, but it doesn't work like that. He doesn't have to do anything to deserve me. He loved me and gave me his whole heart... he doesn't need to do nothing more because that is all I ask for.' Honestly, that increased my respect and admiration for my parents a lot."

I stayed quiet, taking in all of the words piece by piece. Does love really work that way? Is that really the case? Is there a chance that I could try to start a life with Piers?

"Cheryl," Phyllis called, "Do you believe in love?"

"Love?" I frowned, then I shook my head.

Phyllis chuckled, "Well, if you believe so. But I do believe in love. I believe that destined people are connected at heart; what you do or who you are doesn't matter. I believe that love has no boundaries or barriers if you two are really meant to be together."

Phyllis could go on with her lectures but Ms. Therese emerged and told us to go home as she already called it a day. Phyllis asked me to treat her some vanilla ice cream for her words of wisdom, and I just shrugged and complied to it. She was back to her usual talkative and cheery demeanor, savoring on her ice cream while I was left pondering about her words.

I didn't believe in love.

If love is what she says it is, then why is it easy for other people to fall out of love and find another to fall in love with? If love is a virtue that inspires you to accept the person you love for who they are, then why do other people get tired and fall out of love? If it is love, then why do people who claim to be in love... cheat? If it is love...

It's a complex thing that I didn't understand. I believed that all morals, including love, are only created by people, so that they could use and manipulate it into something that will benefit them. How can you tell that something is right or wrong? Because majority of people agreed so.

However, when I saw Piers' face when we had our FaceTime tonight, I figured that my perceptions are in the wrong. I wanted him to see me as the person who has better views in life, because I thought that's who he deserves. Even if he tells me I don't need to do anything to deserve him, I guess I just do so because I want to convince myself that I do.

"Good evening," I let out a faint smile as I gave him a little wave through the camera.

"Why do you have a cut on your lip?" He asked with a small frown, worry evident in his features. I couldn't help but smile and screenshot his expression.

"Training," I just said, "I really can't beat your cousin in a fight." I chuckled then leaned against the headboard of the bed with a sigh.

"She's not going easy on you, huh?" He smiled, which made me take a screenshot once again.

"How about you? You look tired. Long day?"

"Yeah, but nothing I can't handle. It's just a few paperwork, posting and helping out with training on the new recruits."

"Hmm..." I hummed in response, then my expression shifted into a somber one as my fingers went up to the screen, running it over his face. "I know you're used to your job, but please do take care of yourself... and each other. Don't overexert yourself, Piers."

"Thanks for the concern, Cheryl. I know it sounds very hectic to you, but trust me when I say that I know my limits. I can handle it." He gave me a reassuring smile, which made me slightly pout. "Hey, will you smile for me? I don't see you very often, and I don't want to remember your sad face whenever I think of you."

I let out a laugh, "There." I gave him a grin, which made him mirror my expression.

"Better." The ghost of our smiles still lingered on our faces before he spoke again in a hushed whisper, "I miss you..."

His heartfelt statement warmed my heart yet at the same time it erupted a pandemonium. I guess I will never get used to this. I let it all out in a form of a sigh, smiling sadly. "Warum liebst du mich?"

He rolled his eyes playfully, "I guess I should take German classes now, huh?"

I shook my head, my smile still intact. "Trust me, you don't."

"How do you say "you're very beautiful" in German?"

"Du bist sehr schön." I smiled in amusement when I saw how his forehead slightly creased in confusion. I had to take a screenshot once again. "See? You really don't." I chuckled.

He smiled, "Well, we're going to work on that."

The following hour was spent with me teaching Piers the basics of German which included the greetings, phrases and general conversations. I typed on our chat box whilst teaching him, and he was really keen on learning. But we really needed to work on his pronunciation but he's a fast learner.

Piers had to hang up as he had a long day ahead tomorrow. I just nodded with a smile before taking a screenshot of his relaxed face once again. When we finally hang up, I exhaled deeply, took off my earphones and tapped on the gallery of the tablet to take a look at the screenshots of our FaceTime. I realized that I took at least fifty screenshots of his face with various expressions, which were either relaxed, laughing, smiling, irritated, confused and such. I couldn't help but snort while looking intently at his face, then sigh right after.

By December 2011, I had witnessed the continuous fall of the snow once again. It is not every day where I'll get to see such beautiful scenery so I'd always watch it for as long as I could, while drinking on my favorite hot chocolate and wearing the sweater that Piers' had given me last Christmas. I wonder if he also wears the scarf I made for him? Moreover, what would I give him for this year's Christmas?

"Cheryl..." I heard a strained voice called out, and I turned around and saw Lorraine walking towards me with a paled expression. Her eyes were wide with horror paired with unshed tears. "It's about... Piers..."

I sucked in a breath at the mention of his name, as I felt my chest constricted. "Why? What about... him?" I managed to squeak out.

"He's been shot..." She said. My mouth gaped open as my heart banged against my ribcage. In a whole matter of seconds, my whole world crumbled and my trance was shattered when I heard a sound of a glass breaking and I realized that it was my cup of hot chocolate.

"What?" I whispered. I stumbled back, shaking my head furiously. Panic and fear swept over me, killing all of my focus except for the millions of images that were starting to form on my mind, increasing the waves of terror that was starting to engulf me. "No... no, no, no, no, no!" I yelled, my hands slamming to my ears as my breathing becomes unsteady and rapid.

Lorraine pulled me close to her, all while I was continuing to scream. Every inch of my system wanted to run, to break-free and go to where he was right now. I fought harder, trying to my best to flee. She held me firmly then held me by the face to face her.

"Cheryl, he's alive!" Lorraine yelled, trying her best to be heard over my panicked voice. "Do you hear me? Piers is alive."

Through the storm of my thoughts and screams, the words still managed to come to me. I froze on my spot and stared at Lorraine, to which she nodded in reassurance. The relief that I had never known had washed over me, making every muscle in my body weak. My legs became wobbly and Lorraine caught me before I could drop to the ground. All I could do was lean onto her, as I was trying to find my voice once more.

"He's alive..." I said, more to myself, as the worst images that my mind conjured up was starting to fade away slowly. "He's alive..." I sobbed, tears escaping my eyes. Lorraine nodded. The action gave me an ounce of strength to stand and I pushed myself up, although shakily. My legs felt weak, but I tried my best not to crumble. "W-we... we have to go to him..."

Lorraine nodded again, "Yes, of course. I'm just having the car prepared..."

How Lorraine can manage to stay calm when clearly her son was shot is beyond me. I mean, I'm already having a breakdown right now!

"What happened?" I asked as she was driving to the hospital that the BSAA had informed us.

"They were on a mission in Chicago. He was shot in the left shoulder when he tried to save a comrade..." Lorraine said, "The bullet went through, luckily. He had a minor surgery... he's alright now, they said."

"Oh, my God..." I sobbed, as I slammed my face on my palms. Although the panic had subsided, I still couldn't help but feel horrible.

As I zoned out of the world, my thoughts started to haunt me again. My thoughts started to race back into the past, to our moments together, his smiles, his touches, his warmth, his words and his feelings. I am so fucking stupid! Did Piers really had to suffer in order for me to realize this?

Lorraine had barely pulled into a parking space when I got out of the car. I dashed through the hospital entrance like a crazy person, my shoes squeaked on the tiled floor with every step as my eyes locked on the reception desk.

"I need to see Piers Nivans now!" I said, startling the woman behind the counter.

The woman gawked at me, and it made every single nerve in my body buzz with impatience. She adjusted her glasses as she typed on her computer.

"Ma'am, there's a process that needs to be-"

"Listen here, missy," I leaned closer to the counter, I couldn't even recognize my own voice. I was sure I was sending her a death glare, "if you don't just tell me what I need to know, I will jump over this counter and strangle you with my bare hands."

The woman's peeved expression paled to one with horror. I tore my gaze away from her when I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I turned around to see Lorraine. I huffed then took a step back so that she could talk to the receptionist.

"My name is Lorraine Nivans," She said, "Iʼm the patientʼs mother."

The receptionist immediately understood, although her horrified glance still lingered on me.

"Lt. Nivans was moved to the recovery room. It's on the fourth floor, room S1," The woman said with a slightly shaky voice.

The words were barely out of the woman's mouth when I turned around and dashed to the elevators. I punched in the buttons and looked up at the lit up numbers, waiting for it to descend all the way from the fifth floor. I clenched my jaw and spun around and took the flight of stairs, the sound of my shoes making contact with the floor echoed through the dim stairway. Lorraine was trailing behind me as I took two steps at a time and I burst through the door on the fourth floor. I looked both ways before running through the left hallway. There's nothing more that I want than to see Piers right now. I skidded then stopped to a door that was labeled room S1 and without another second wasted, I turned the door knob and a simple room greeted my eyes: a white bed, a small black couch by the side, a chair beside the bed and a hanging TV.

Piers was there sitting on the bed, and he looked over when he heard the door open. His face had worn that same stoic yet tired expression which felt like I didn't see for a very long time. His left shoulder was hanging in a sling. His lips parted in shock at the sight of my tear-stained face.

"Piers..." I cried as I run to pull him into a tight hug, like I was a child running back to her parents after getting scraped in the knee. I had forgotten for a second that he was injured when I heard him grunt in pain. I immediately pulled away. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry..."

"Hey, it's okay..." His voice was raspy as he smiled weakly, then not long after his mother arrived. She gave him a hug as well, but unlike me, she minded the wound on his shoulder.

Although the panic was gone, my tears still won't stop flowing past my cheeks as the fear still remained. Even though he was one of the BSAA's finest, I had forgotten that he wasnʼt invincible. I had overlooked that this was still possible. As long as he was in the service, this fear will remain with me in every waking moment, whispering and always ahead of me.

After exchanging a few words of reassurance with Lorraine, she finally left to go back to his apartment to pick up a few things upon Piers' request, leaving me alone with him.

"Hey..." His voice was gentle as his right hand held my waist, "I'm alright, Cheryl."

"I hate you," My lips quivered as a new batch of tears were threatening to form, "Seriously, I hate you so much."

Piers smiled, then he pulled my arm to sit me down on the bed in front of him. His free hand went up to wipe away the stray tears as he looked at me intently, "Don't cry, I hate to see you upset."

"I'm not upset, you dummy..." I sniffed as I looked away, "How... how are you feeling?"

"Like I've been shot."

I let out a little snort of laughter, causing my tears to fall. "Very funny, Nivans."

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, "I'm on a lot of painkillers, Cheryl, so it's okay." Maybe that's why he's feeling tired.

"You need some rest." I said as I made an attempt to stand up but he immediately held my hand to still me on my seat.

"No, please... I'm not tired. I want to be with you a bit longer."

I smiled gently, "I'm not going anywhere."

He smiled back, "Good. Me neither."

I looked into his tired and exhausted face, and my hands went up to caress his face. He closed his eyes as a contented sigh escaped his lips, his free hand went up to follow my hand. He opened his eyes again to stop and stare at me, and I leaned in, closing the insignificant space between us to give him a kiss on his pale and chapped lips.

I didn't believe in love. But here I was, loving him with every bits and pieces of me. I know that loving him would take a big toll on me, and I might regret it along the way. But one thing I know for certain is that I'll regret it even more if I didn't let him know and feel how much I love him.

"I love you, Piers... so much... that it hurts me."

His heartfelt stare was all the response that I received. And it was all the response that I need.