Ananya and Zaniel have found one another again, but nothing is simple as they continue their search for Tower Clearing's mysterious owner
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"Do you think that my grandma actually knew who was in the tower, then?" Ananya mumbled, leaning on Zaniel's shoulder, her head fitting neatly into the curve of his neck.
She was comfortable with him, cosy and homely, warm and fuzzy inside. But with Olivera she was alert and exhilarated, excited but scared. Completely the opposite from Zaniel. She wasn't sure which one was better. But then again, she'd told herself not to get involved with either of them, more than friends.
"No," Zaniel replied softly and reassuringly. He obviously didn't like Olivera, so wasn't really angry with her at all for blowing up at him. His ruthlessness in delivering the news of how Ananya's grandmother had died meant that he deserved it anyway - that was Zaniel's opinion.
"I don't think she could have known. He didn't contact her, remember, he just stole stuff and ran away."
Ananya nodded and scratched her jawbone.
"You know," she blurted, having been secretly thinking about it ever since Olivera left, "I shouldn't have said that stuff to Olivera. It was absolutely unforgivable of me. I've said some horrible stuff in my life but not like that…"
"No," Zaniel comforted her. "It was his fault. He was completely heartless. He was unforgivable, and nobody can blame you for what you said."
"Thanks, Zaniel," Ananya replied, looking down at the floor in shame. "but I don't agree with you." She brought her head up, her lank hair swinging out of the way, and looked Zaniel in the eye with sympathy. "You're wrong. It wasn't right what I did, but I don't have the guts to go and apologize."
She could feel herself welling up in tears, and stood to walk out to the garden, where she suspected Olivera was eavesdropping on their conversation. Or he could have gone to Richard. Somehow, Ananya doubted it though, and decided she would go and apologise should he be waiting.
Ananya was right, and Olivera was in the garden, eyes red and raw, cheeks blotchy. When he saw Ananya he made a desperate attempt to hide his previous crying marks, but quitted his attempt when he saw that Ananya was clad with them too. Ananya's face changed when she saw him. He witnessed her emotions, naked and plain. It was the first time she'd ever let her curtains down, letting the outside world know how she was really feeling. She was nervous, he could see it, but angry too, angry for his inability to stay and give her a chance to apologise.
"So…" he sniffled quietly, his rage forgotten and just regret for stomping out filling his heart.
"Look, Olivera-"
"No. You were right. My parents aren't real, weren't real, so I don't know about it. I live in a different world to you. It's different here to how it is in your world. I appreciate that."
"Yes, and so do I. But the point is, in that moment I didn't. I was the one who got everything wrong, said everything wrong, and I am so sorry."
Ananya slowly and cautiously walked over to Olivera, and sat beside him, reclining her head to let the air cool her skin and relieve some of the stress from earlier.
"Look, Ananya-"
"No, Olivera," she interrupted loudly, with a sudden confidence. "No. Don't even try to reassure me, because we both know that I did wrong. I'll openly say that you didn't give me a chance, either. But ultimately, I'm the wrong-doer."
Olivera closed his eyes and breathed out, whistling the air slowly and softly out between his half-closed lips, pink and chapped from sobbing.
Ananya turned her head and looked into Olivera's eyes, into the deep dark pit of a pupil, seemingly infinite, chilling her right to the bone. But she carried on looking. The rest of him was blocked out, and all Ananya could see was black. But she knew it was Olivera's black eyes, and somehow the thought comforted her. She felt like she could see right into his soul.
As if these depths held everything about him, knew everything about him. A wave of love, pure love, rushed over her, demolishing everything in its path: Zaniel, reality, home and disagreement. Ananya didn't care about anything anymore. She wanted to be with Olivera, and, selfish as it was, wasn't going to let anything get in her way. She had chosen, and she had the power to make it happen.
"I love you," she stated, bluntly and clearly. I'm not ashamed, she thought, I need to tell him outright to make him love me. I love him, and he will love me.
"No," Olivera responded, sadly and softly.
"Yes. I love you. You love me."
"You made that stuff up about Zaniel, that he was your boyfriend, and stuff. You love him."
"No. I love you. Do you love me?"
Olivera drew his breath to reply but Ananya had already marched away, indoors. He bowed his head in sorrow, knowing that soon they would be making the treacherous journey through the jungle, full of unreal animals and dangers, unbeknownst to the real world. They would be aiming straight for the Heart, straight for the danger - but Olivera knew that it was the only way out of this place. It would be a suicide mission for Olivera. It was obvious that the Heart would never let him back to Richard if he had helped Ananya and Zaniel.
Zaniel, Olivera thought, He's an idiot. He left Ananya behind when she was injured and upset. Why should I care about him? I don't owe him anything, and neither does Ananya.
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