The days tick by achingly slowly, and I take to marking them down with tally marks to keep my hopes up. Every encounter with Florence grows more and more painful, until I finally stop leaving my room altogether unless I need to attend a group meeting. Thankfully they're always debriefs, as the superiors are already aware that I will be leaving soon, so these last few weeks for me are mission-free.
I spend my days trying to unwind in my room and poring over Leo's letters. I miss him so much that my chest hurts just thinking about him. Sometimes I catch a glance of myself in the mirror; taller, more mature, with sharper features. We're both two years older than we once were, and I wonder how the years have treated him. But above all, I can't wait to see him again.
On a cold, snowing morning, three days before my departure, I finally leave my room to take care of something once and for all. He usually hangs around the frozen fountain, reading a book or drinking some tea, so I head there first. Sure enough, I spot him: Florence. My whole body trembles with anxiety at the sight of him, but I steel myself and walk forward. This is something you need to face, Mari.
He sits on the bench, serene and still, like a frozen statue himself. I bite my lip to keep my nerves under control as I near him and tap him on the shoulder. He turns around slowly, but his eyes widen when he sees me, and I look away when I catch a glimpse of pain in them. My face flushing, I mumble, "Look, we need to talk."
I round the bench and take a seat next to him, trying to keep my eyes forward so I won't have to look at his face. But I can feel his gaze on my every feature, my every movement, and it's almost too much to bear.
"Florence," I start, wanting to get the words out as quickly as possible. "I'm sorry about us. I'm sorry that things got so tense between us."
"Mari..." he trails off, hesitation rife in his tone. "I should be the one that's apologizing. I shouldn't have been so foolish and selfish."
"Florence... if I hadn't met Leo... I think we might've..."
"Mari, it's alright. You were always so... distant, in a way. Like you were waiting for someone else, thinking about someone else who was far, far away from this fortress."
I start to feel the tears pooling in my eyes at his words. "Florence... I want us to stay friends, at least?" I look up at him through wet, glistening eyes. There is a sadness in his face that I've never seen before, and it almost breaks me to look at him.
"I think I really did love you, Mari," he says after a long while. The tears start flowing faster. "I haven't felt that way in... in a long time." He turns to me and gives me a smile. "Thank you for making me feel that way. It was nice."
"Florence..." I start to sob. "You-You'll find someone. I just know it!"
"Thank you, Mari. Whoever has your heart is a lucky man."
I start crying harder, and suddenly I pull Florence into a hug. It feels nice, my face against the curve of his shoulder, his wind-blown, fresh scent surrounding me. We hold each other for a while, our respective feelings untangling themselves and sorting themselves out. When I pull away, my tears have dried and there is a faint smile on my face.
"I think I'll always be a bit in love with you, Mari," Florence admits.
"And I with you," I respond. Feelings never truly fade. I reach out a hand. "Friends?"
He takes it, his callouses firm against my own. "Friends."
***
The next two days pass by with ease. Florence and I start talking like we once did, and the tension between us completely fades. He and Aurelia tearfully help me pack up my things for my departure, and we spend my last night at the fortress at a small party. In the soft candlelight, surrounded by the warmth of friends, I give them one last smile.
Then, in the morning, at the crack of dawn, I leave my cabin behind. The captain of the brigade awaits me at the exit of the fortress, a train ticket in hand. He pats me on the back and waves me off as I make my way towards the station. "You should come back in a few years, see how we're doing!" He calls out after me. I laugh in response and tell him "maybe."
The wind still bites at my skin after all these years, but I've learned to bear the brunt of it. Dragging my suitcase behind me, satchel slung around my shoulder, I arrive at the station and eagerly await the train home.