Lifeline (Sebastian Vettel)

Chapter 52: That Which Cannot be Unseen

And that was only one example of the many times where she'd cast him away. She should have lost her chance at having him in her life long ago. That's what she deserved and what she thought she'd wanted for a long time now.

But for the past couple of weeks, something felt like it had shifted. Since they'd had time to be alone in in Norway, away from the others, things had seemed easier. It was like a silent sense of acceptance had fallen between them.

Even though they had not spent a huge amount of the time there in each other's direct presence, they still saw each other every day, maybe watched a movie here and there, talked about normal things. He was just all-round present more in her everyday life since that moment in the hospital car park, and she was pushing him away less.

The memories didn't really seem intrusive anymore either, she was so used to them now. It was starting to feel more like she was seeing a puzzle slowly being filled in. Though nobody, not even she, knew how many pieces were still to come, and whether or not they'd ever all be found.

As she watched him, she felt her throat constricting over the way he'd been treated, over how it must feel to be in his shoes. She tried to imagine how it might feel to be completely betrayed. What if their roles had been reversed and he'd lost his memory of her, and instantly turned to someone else, tossing her aside like she was not even a human worth considering. She wasn't sure she could properly appreciate how it must have felt, but seeing him sleeping quietly in her bed, completely alone, she felt so horribly sad for him. Sad because he was so good and forgiving, when by now, he should surely hate her. She deserved nothing more.

She'd not even given him a chance. And now she found herself wishing she could take some things back.

"What's wrong?" a husky, sleep-laced voice interrupted her rumination.

She hadn't realised she'd zoned out, lost in her thoughts in a faraway place, and looked back down as Seb, now awake, reached up and stroked his thumb across her cheek, dispersing a tear that she didn't know had been trickling down.

"Why are you crying?" he croaked, seeming more and more alarmed as he leaned up on his elbows.

"I'm fine," she said, shaking her head and pushing her thoughts away, desperately not comfortable with the idea of crying in front of him at this very moment.

"Talk to me, Tul," he said, giving her a somber, encouraging smile, "Please?"

She couldn't help but return his smile with a small one of her own. He was just so hard to dislike, as much as she'd tried to up till this point. And now, as he sat in her bed, all ruffled hair and stupid accent and stunning blue eyes, it was officially impossible.

They were both suddenly distracted from the moment as laughter floated through from downstairs. Female laughter.

"You cannot let Heikki convince you she's suitable," Tully blurted out, returning her gaze to Seb's as Freya's voice continued to filter through the door.

He seemed vaguely uncomfortable about something as he stared back at her. "Yeah..." he mumbled awkwardly.

"She's completely stupid. You know that right? You need better."

He grinned sheepishly and rubbed his face, "Argh, Tully."

It was like he really wanted to tell her something, but was holding back for some reason.

"What?"

"Ah, nothing," he said, shaking his head, "But... you know what will guarantee the right person takes the job right?"

She sighed, sensing where this was going.

"You know I want it to be you," he said simply, "And until then, and if that day ever even comes at all, I will just have to make do with whoever works."