Closer to You

“The dry cleaners?”

Mele tilted her head, squinting slightly in the morning sunlight that streamed through the living room windows.

“Yeah,” Fali replied, nodding as he spread his uniform neatly across the table. “I need to get it looking sharp before the trial. So that’s where I’m… we’re going today.”

She nodded, her wheelchair positioned at the end of the table. Her eyes followed as he began carefully removing the medals from the dark fabric.

“Do you think they’ll be able to do it in time?”

He shrugged lightly. “They’ll sure try to when they see me.”

She laughed softly, the sound like the morning itself - gentle, warm.
“What should I wear, do you think?”

He paused mid-motion, the sunlight catching on the gold pin of a medal between his fingers. “Whatever makes you look the most vulnerable,” he said quietly, “if you want the court to see how much this has affected you.”

She hesitated, lips curling into a weak smile. “Yeah. I don’t know. I just want it to be over and done with.”

He nodded, voice softening. “That’s fair enough. Wear whatever you want, then. They’re not going to kick you out. The public would murder them if they tried.”

She chuckled, her grin brightening. “In that case, I’ll wear my lingerie.”

He blinked, startled despite himself. But her mischievous grin told him she was only teasing.

“You have lingerie?” he asked, playing along.

She leaned in a little, eyes glinting. “That’s a surprise.”

His pulse skipped. He quickly turned his attention back to the uniform, pretending to focus on the medals while forcing his thoughts elsewhere. Mele giggled at his futile attempt to act unfazed, then let her gaze drift across the small mountain of polished metal in front of him.

“What’s that one for?” she asked curiously.

He looked down, turning the medal in his hand. “Bravery… or something like that.”

“Do you remember why you got it?”

“Nope.” He set it aside and unpinned the next ribbon.

“What about that one?”

“Thirty aerial victories, if I remember correctly.”

She smiled faintly as he continued, her curiosity growing. “And that one?”

He chuckled, glancing at her. “How about I just tell you them all?”

She nodded eagerly, eyes bright. And so he did - one by one - narrating each medal as he removed it from the uniform. Medals for valor, for campaigns, for combat excellence. By the time he’d finished, a shimmering pile had gathered between them, each one a piece of his story.

“That’s a lot,” she said softly.

He grinned. “Yeah. Perks of being a poster boy.”

He lifted the uniform, ready to fold it, when something clinked faintly from within the fabric. He frowned, laying it flat again and patting the chest pocket. Then he snapped his fingers.

“Ah! I knew I’d forgotten something.”

Reaching in, he pulled out a thin black cord with two golden tags dangling from it. Mele’s eyes lit up.

“Dog tags! How’d you forget about those?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Thought they were in my dresser. Apparently not.”

He turned them over in his hands, thumb brushing the engraved letters. For a moment, his expression softened into something unreadable. Mele knew that look - the quiet reflection that came from touching a piece of your past.

“You’ll never lose them again now,” she said gently.

He chuckled. “That’s true. Guess I’ll have to find a good place to keep them this time.”

Her smile lingered, full of warmth and affection. But as he looked down at the tags, something else flickered behind his eyes - a thought he didn’t voice.

A plan was forming. One that made his heart race faster than any battle ever had.

And it was a plan Mele could never know.

“Hey, Mele, come look at… oh, right. Hold on a minute.”
Fali stood up from the table as Mele giggled and stopped playing, the song she’d been working on tapering to a soft finish. The afternoon sun, casting long shadows across the floor, was sinking toward the horizon. Its golden light painted the house in warmth - soft, homely, and calm.

Fali sat beside her on the couch, laptop in hand, and angled the screen toward her.
“Whaddya think?”

It was an advertisement for a small shop - and, attached to it, an apartment. Thankfully, the apartment wasn’t above the shop, but behind it. He flicked through the interior photos while Mele leaned closer, hope quietly sparking in her mind.

“It looks quite nice,” she murmured.

He nodded, grinning.
“Almost perfect, don’t you think?”

She nodded again. “What about Freyla II?”

Without answering, he switched to another tab - a map showing the shop’s location. It was near the coast, tucked inside a quiet seaside village a six-hour drive away. He zoomed out, and there it was: a small airfield, a little larger than the one Freyla II currently used. Her heart gave a jump. It seemed too good to be true.

“How much is it?”

He flicked back to the listing. The price barely made a dent in her balance - though to be fair, her balance was enormous. Her thoughts began to race. What could possibly stop them from making an offer right then and there? She glanced up at him. He was smiling, eyes bright with shared excitement.

“So what do you think?”

Her voice came out louder than she intended.
“What do I think? It’s perfect! There’s no way a place like that actually exists!”

He grinned.
“I know, right? I was skeptical when I first saw it too.”

She smiled and leaned against his shoulder, letting her head rest there as though it belonged.
“Can we book a tour? See it in person?”

He nodded and began typing, fingers moving quickly as he found the contact details and composed an email. The words appearing on-screen were so formal, so restrained, they didn’t come close to the excitement she felt rising inside her.

Her mind tried to keep up with the sudden rush of hope, scanning for anything to distrust - but all it could find was silence. And then, quietly, a new thought crept in: how much they already felt like a married couple. Yet they weren’t - not yet. She smiled at the thought, wondering what he’d think if she said it aloud. It wasn’t the right moment, though. So she tucked it away.

Her thoughts drifted to the upcoming trial. She didn’t care what the outcome was - she just wanted it to be over. If that meant dressing to look fragile, vulnerable, broken, so be it. Her smile faded as she wondered what would surface when the time came. What memories would return. Whether she could keep herself from crying in front of all those faces. Whether Fali would reach for her hand, or pull her into his arms right there before everyone.

She pressed harder into his side. He stopped typing for a moment, then raised a hand and stroked her hair gently, resuming his work one-handed.

If she’d been a cat, she would have purred. She closed her eyes, nestling closer, until she could feel his heartbeat through his shirt - steady and warm, merging softly with her own.

She wanted, more than anything, to be inseparable from him. Not in a physical sense, but as something deeper: a mutual merging, their thoughts and hearts entwined in a quiet white void where only the two of them existed. It was impossible, of course - but the dream filled her chest with warmth.

And as the last of the sunlight slipped across the floor, Mele sank deeper into his side, content to let the dream stay with her a little longer.