Late Satisfaction

[Lucius]

... Her father was the first person she wanted to tell about what had happened. She had barely managed to get out that she needed to talk to him about something. Then her voice no longer complied with her original plan. She knew he’d blame himself for not protecting her. Most people saw in her the tall, strong woman she was. But to her father, she remained the little girl he had to protect from the dangers of this world. ...

Quite so, Eleanor.

...If only… if only she was strong like that girl in one of the classes she tutored, Eleanor. She was strong, tall and a trained fighter. Nothing like this would ever happen to her. What would she do in her place? Claire channeled her inner Eleanor, tilted her body to the left as much as she could, bend her right arm as far over her own body as possible and then rammed her elbow against his temple with as much force as she could muster. ...

She had enough left to do, exactly two things. First, she needed to talk to Eugene. She wanted to ask him for forgiveness, then tell him the truth if he was willing to accept her apology. She needed him as a friend and ally. But more than that, she simply didn’t want him to suffer anymore because of what she had done. She'd do anything in her power to make up for her mistake.

That's a right thing to do...

He wasn’t home. But he had left his phone and a receipt for a basketball on the kitchen table. That gave her an idea of where she might find him. But she wanted to tackle the second point on her to-do list first.

... not sure this is. Victoria's middle name might well be 'Aggravation'.

... Her mother had been Professor Robertson’s unrequited love and she had paid the price for it. She didn’t know what to do with this new information. In the grand scheme of things, it didn’t seem to matter much. But at least it gave the part of her that had been searching for a reason a kind of peace.

I guess it's going to matter somehow, but how? Influence a change for the better in the mother-daughter relationship dynamics?

[mcpa1597]

Went back to the first chapters to refresh on Eleanor's backstory. Interesting to see how different it is to see how Mom and Dad are (and easy to see why they divorced).

It would be interesting to see how Victoria would react if she found out what her unremarkable childhood acquaintance did to her daughter.

[Vela Nanashi]

Good that she is letting her father help, even if only trying to mend bridges with mom for her.

The physical trauma is there but was probably honestly less bad than the mental trauma, and fighting back might have helped that quite a bit.

Also taking painkillers when they work for you and you are in pain makes sense to me.

Yeah hoping she can mend her relationship with Eugene. She might need to tell him why she behaved that way, not as an excuse, but just clarification.

She needs to slap some sense into her mother, maybe not with fists but words.

Yeah feeling like you are low priority to your parent or other family / loved one, that stings.

To Victoria clearly most people in her past are irrelevant for her. Also not caring for gossip I get

Oooh good snapping at Victoria

Also pride/approval, that actually makes sense "finally my daughter is standing up for herself, something I have been trying to make her do all her life" perhaps.

Also good appraisal of the professor from Victoria

Feels like they got a little closer to each other and maybe mended the fence some.

But yeah her mom is not responsible for what professor did, good that Eleanor knows that

Hope to read the next part soon, but I know it is a lot of work to translate something, not a thing I can even do.

[Claire]

@Lucius I remember writing that paragraph in Record Chaser. "Oh claire, if only you knew" I thought... Despite it not helping much in the grand scheme of things, I liked writing that elbow strike.

I think there is a good chance for improving Eleanor's relationship with her mother. At least that's how I read the chapter.


@mcpa1597 Writing Victoria was actually very scary for me. I had hyped her up so much in both Robertson's and Eleanor's minds that I didn't know whether I could live up to that. I felt like I was describing her like she was the ancient greek half goddess of ambition, like an almost mythological figure. But writing her ended up being a lot of fun.

I think once she learns what happens, she'll support Eleanor in every way she can while letting her decide which course of action she's going to take. But she'll never be a traditionally warm and fuzzy mother for Eleanor.

Also, I like Eleanor's dad so much. He's so adorable.

Yeah hoping she can mend her relationship with Eugene. She might need to tell him why she behaved that way, not as an excuse, but just clarification.

The final chapter will go into that and especially the first half of that chapter I'd still consider some of my best writing to this day.

Oooh good snapping at Victoria

That was so much fun to write!

Also pride/approval, that actually makes sense "finally my daughter is standing up for herself, something I have been trying to make her do all her life" perhaps.

That's also how I interpret that moment. I imagine Victoria thinking: "That's it, Eleanor. My daughter is not letting herself get pushed aside by anyone, not even by me."

Hope to read the next part soon, but I know it is a lot of work to translate something, not a thing I can even do.

Yeah, that will take me a bit. The final chapter is roughly 4,000 words. That's not as long as 4-2 but still more than 5-1 and 5-2 combined. But I'm motivated to get it done now!

[mcpa1597]

I think once she learns what happens, she'll support Eleanor in every way she can while letting her decide which course of action she's going to take. But she'll never be a traditionally warm and fuzzy mother for Eleanor.

1. That would be interesting to read about.

2. I forgot to mention that one reason I would like to know Victoria's reaction is that in Chapter 2-Part 2, Eleanor genuinely seemed to believe her mother would blame her for her own assault.

The saddest part was that Eleanor wasn’t entirely sure whether her actual mother wouldn’t blame her if she ever told her what had happened.

I was wondering how she would feel if she knew her daughter felt that way. She probably is self-aware of how cold she is, but I don't think she'd ever believed Eleanor would think of her in such a manner.

I'm personally going for horrified and ashamed.

[Claire]

2. I forgot to mention that one reason I would like to know Victoria's reaction is that in Chapter 2-Part 2, Eleanor genuinely seemed to believe her mother would blame her for her own assault.

That is true. But to me that is part of the fun writing in third person limited. You get Eleanor's perspective, not the truth told by an omniscient narrator. To give you a concrete example where you know as a reader that Eleanor is wrong, look at this paragraph from chapter 2 part 1 after she just entered Robertson's office:

For a moment, she didn’t know what to do next. Robertson looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite read. Irritated? Unsure? Nervous? She couldn’t put her finger on it. During orientation, upper-year students had told her a lot about him, mostly praise. And after attending his lecture for a while, she could confirm most of it. But there was one thing she couldn’t agree with: He didn’t seem like the confident man she had been told about. On the contrary, he often looked shy and nervous to her. Like he was struggling with imposter syndrome, unable to hide the unease of a man who wasn’t convinced he deserved the elevated position he held.

You as the reader know why her impression of Robertson is so different from what everybody else tells her. He is not confident and nervous when she sees him because she is there. But Eleanor - reasonably I would say - never even considers the idea that her own presence might be the reason why he seems so nervous and insecure to her. She just thinks she has a different read of the man from what she has been told.

So what ever Eleanor's thoughts reveal about her mother is a filtered perspective as well. And you can see that in chapter 5 part 2 very clearly if you look a little deeper. Victoria comes across as very cold and cruel even. But I find it interesting to look at that call from Victoria's perspective.

Victoria expects a congressman to arrive for an important meeting within a minute or so. Her daughter knows that she is a busy CEO of a large firm who works probably 80 to 100 hours every week and regularly has meetings with important people. She sees her daughter calling. What does she do? Despite their recent falling out, she picks up the phone immediately. She trusts Eleanor that she'd only call if this was important. More than that, Victoria explicitly says she only picked up because she saw that it was Eleanor calling, meaning she wouldn't do that for just anybody.

Then Eleanor tries to ask her about a professor who might know her from somewhere. Victoria wonders: "Why can't this wait until tomorrow or at least until I'm done with work today?" That is not an unreasonable question from her perspective. Can you imagine the CEO of General Motors getting a call from their adult daughter minutes before an important meeting and her asking them about some old friend from their school days? That's essentially what's happening here from Victoria's perspective.

Victoria then dismisses what Eleanor wants to ask as gossip. But even then she doesn't just hang up. She asks if there is anything else Eleanor wants. Then Eleanor explodes in her face. And instead of getting offended, she validates Eleanor by giving her what she asked, presumably because she likes to see Eleanor standing up for herself and being persistent.

I'm not saying Victoria is a great mother. She could have said: "Sweetie, I'm really busy right now. Can we talk about your professor after I'm done with work?" But if you look at what Victoria actually does and less at how she expresses herself, then I think it becomes pretty clear that she cares deeply about her daughter. But Eleanor's pov never acknowledges that. When Victoria says:

“I know. I can see who’s calling. I wouldn’t have picked up otherwise.”

Then we get Eleanor's pov narration:

Eleanor suppressed a frustrated sigh.

And we don't see Eleanor thinking: "As difficult as their relationship was, she knew that she could always rely on her mother picking up the phone when she called." No, Eleanor is just frustrasted that her mother doesn't say: "Hey sweetie, how are you?"

To bring it back to your original question: I don't think Victoria engages in victim blaming. I would suspect that she values accountability and would know clearly who is to blame here, especially as a woman herself who had to navigate powerful men.

I was wondering how she would feel if she knew her daughter felt that way. She probably is self-aware of how cold she is, but I don't think she'd ever believed Eleanor would think of her in such a manner.

I wonder whether Eleanor would repeat that thought in a less stressful moment. She literally had that thought while being raped. I'd assume your mind is not inclined to be fair in its judgment of other people during that moment. :/

If I ever write another scene between Victoria and Eleanor, I would bring Eleanor's belief from chapter 3 part 2 to the forefront where she thinks that her mother never forgave her for picking her father when she was 6.

[mcpa1597]

Victoria expects a congressman to arrive for an important meeting within a minute or so. Her daughter knows that she is a busy CEO of a large firm who works probably 80 to 100 hours every week and regularly has meetings with important people. She sees her daughter calling. What does she do? Despite their recent falling out, she picks up the phone immediately. She trusts Eleanor that she'd only call if this was important. More than that, Victoria explicitly says she only picked up because she saw that it was Eleanor calling, meaning she wouldn't do that for just anybody.

Then Eleanor tries to ask her about a professor who might know her from somewhere. Victoria wonders: "Why can't this wait until tomorrow or at least until I'm done with work today?" That is not an unreasonable question from her perspective. Can you imagine the CEO of General Motors getting a call from their adult daughter minutes before an important meeting and her asking them about some old friend from their school days? That's essentially what's happening here from Victoria's perspective.

Victoria then dismisses what Eleanor wants to ask as gossip. But even then she doesn't just hang up. She asks if there is anything else Eleanor wants. Then Eleanor explodes in her face. And instead of getting offended, she validates Eleanor by giving her what she asked, presumably because she likes to see Eleanor standing up for herself and being persistent.

I'm a little disappointed in myself that I didn't read between the lines at first. But there is more to Victoria than Eleanor seems to realize.

To bring it back to your original question: I don't think Victoria engages in victim blaming. I would suspect that she values accountability and would know clearly who is to blame here, especially as a woman herself who had to navigate powerful men.

I thought the same. It's interesting to think about how someone who seems so calm and detached might respond. There is always a breaking point to that control, and I believe what happened to her daughter would be one of those that would hit it.

But if you look at what Victoria actually does and less at how she expresses herself, then I think it becomes pretty clear that she cares deeply about her daughter. But Eleanor's pov never acknowledges that.

It is apparent. But oftentimes parents have to realize that's not enough for their children.

[Claire]

My gift to all of you for the one year anniversary of the Ravishment Academy. Enjoy the final chapter of Late Satisfaction!

Chapter 5 - Part 3


Eleanor had considered delaying her talk with Eugene until the next day. The painkiller she had taken numbed the pain enough for her not to think of the assault in the elevator. Now that things had calmed down somewhat, her exhausted body was begging her to rest.

But her decision to resist Professor Robertson had given her a second wind. She trusted again in her ability to shape her own fate. The phone calls with her parents had only strengthened her reinvigorated fighting spirit even further. She forced herself to ride this new wave of confidence as far as it would carry her. Whether she’d still be able to do that tomorrow she didn’t know.

She was on her way to a small park near her apartment. Eugene had bought a new basketball. At least that was how she interpreted the receipt she had found on the kitchen table. She knew that he hadn’t played for years, not since the abuse he suffered at the hands of his coach. Normally, she would have taken Eugene giving his beloved hobby a second chance as a sign of healing. But given how their most recent encounter had turned out, she didn’t know what to make of it. She only knew that the nearby park had a basketball hoop. Her best guess was that Eugene would be there.

It was about 50 degrees outside. Under normal circumstances, Eleanor would have considered her current outfit - a short-sleeved beige top, black jeans, and brown ankle boots - not warm enough for the weather. But the feeling of the cool afternoon air on her bare arms kept her alert, and going back home to fetch a jacket felt like too much of a hassle now that she was almost at the park. The tight jeans felt safe, like a piece of armor, an impenetrable barrier against any potential attacker. She didn’t know yet if she’d ever be able to wear a skirt again without it triggering uncomfortable memories.

She was nearing the entrance to the park. She could already hear it, a ball bouncing repeatedly against the asphalt. In theory, someone other than Eugene could be responsible for the rhythmic sound. But her intuition told her that it was him playing. A few final steps and she was there. It took only a single glance for her to spot Eugene taking a shot at the hoop that hit its mark as if the result had never been in doubt. She didn’t understand much about basketball, but she got the impression that Eugene knew what he was doing.

Eugene walked toward the hoop at a leisurely pace, picking up the ball before it had a chance to roll away. On his way back to what once passed for a free-throw line, he noticed her, coming to a sudden halt. He stopped dribbling the ball, holding it in place with a tight grip. His whole body looked tense. Eleanor raised her hand carefully, giving him an awkward wave.

“Hey Eugene…”

That was all she managed to say. She knew what she had to do. Telling him she was sorry wasn’t difficult. She was all too aware that she had used, wronged, and hurt him by violating his boundaries. But whether she could say the words ‘My professor raped me’ was another matter. She felt the gravity of that truth dragging her down. They took a few steps toward each other.

“Hey… You look like shit.”

Eugene’s greeting was neither mean nor a joke. His blunt remark expressed genuine concern. Eleanor lowered her gaze and brushed her long hair out of her face. The effort was futile, as the wind blew it right back.

“I know… I feel like shit too. I found the receipt for the basketball. So, I figured I’d find you here.”

Eugene looked at the ball in his hands. He hesitated a moment.

“Yeah… I guess it was about time.”

He resumed dribbling the ball, gently. Then he took another shot, scoring again like it was nothing. Eleanor couldn’t tell that he hadn’t played for years.

“So… um… how did Saturday at the Infinite Pint go? Did you get Claire’s number?”

Eleanor felt stupid for steering the conversation in a direction that seemed shallow by comparison. But if their friendship wasn’t burdened by recent events, he would have told her first thing how his night out on Saturday had turned out. She was unsure whether her question was appropriate for the situation. But she simply lacked the courage to get straight to the point. Eugene kept making shots while he spoke.

“Hmm… I thought it went well at first. I had fun talking to her, and I thought she did too. She even gave me her number. I was such a nervous wreck… You wouldn’t believe it.”

He sent the ball through the hoop again.

“Claire went home early though. I sent her a text shortly after, but I haven’t heard back from her since. I always thought that this whole ‘Wait 24 hours before you text a girl’ crap was nonsense. But what do I know…”

He didn’t even try to hide his frustration and disappointment. Eleanor wanted to tell him that these weird dating rules truly were nothing but nonsense and that Claire might still get back to him. But she just had no idea why Claire was suddenly ghosting him.

“You want to talk about it?”

Eugene let out an irritated chuckle.

“Actually, yeah, I’d like that… But don’t you think we should address the elephant in the room before we deal with something so trivial? I feel like an idiot, but getting rejected by a girl is something I can handle. My best friend straddling me out of nowhere for God knows what reason and grabbing my crotch? That’s on a whole other level.”

He was holding the ball tightly again, his eyes focused on her and only her. He was ready to talk and listen. But he was done getting sidetracked. Eleanor couldn’t hold his intense gaze anymore. She knew that she owed him both an apology and an explanation.

“I… I wish I could say I wasn’t myself in that moment… and that wouldn’t even be a lie. But it sounds like an excuse to me. I’d like to explain to you what was wrong… is wrong with me.”

Her voice failed her for a second. She held back a tear.

“But… but before I do, I want you to know how deeply sorry I am. I… I wanted to use you. I wanted to take advantage of your kindness to distract myself from my own problems. But that’s no justification for what I did. I’m so sorry.”

Eugene turned away from her and faced the hoop again. He stared at the ground with the ball still in his hands. Then he sighed loud enough for Eleanor to hear. His whole body visibly relaxed, and he went back to shooting.

“You know, as a child, I wanted to play in the NBA more than anything. All the adults around me encouraged me to go for it, telling me how talented I was. But even back then I knew that I was too small to ever make it as a professional player.”

Eleanor’s confusion was twofold. First, he didn’t respond to her apology at all. But if he’d rejected it completely, he wouldn’t be talking to her like this. Second, it was true that Eugene was only slightly taller than she was, making him rather small compared to the average NBA player. But for him to realize that he wouldn’t make it as a professional even before puberty, he must have been really small back then. Although she couldn’t wait to hear whether he’d forgive her, she decided to follow his lead and go wherever he wanted to take this conversation next.

“I think I would have liked to meet young Eugene. I’m sure you were cute.”

She couldn’t tell whether this playful comment was appropriate. Eugene’s relaxed posture and the innocuous tone of his voice made her drop her guard, letting her say what felt natural without thinking much about it first. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Heh… maybe. You probably would have been a fair bit taller than me back then. After my coach… well, you know. After that happened, I went through quite the growth spurt during puberty. It was almost as if my body decided: ‘I’m not going to let that happen again.’”

She understood what he was saying. She had felt small despite being tall. He had actually been small. She wanted to let him know that his new size and strength would prevent him from ever becoming a victim again. But her own experience taught her that this wasn’t true.

“So what’s it like playing basketball as a tall, adult man? It’s the first time, isn’t it?”

She had no idea anymore what the right question might even look like, what the right thing to say possibly could be. But it was Eugene who had brought this up. If this turned out to be another insignificant distraction, then at least it wasn’t coming from her.

Eugene took aim for his next shot. His hands were shaking so much that even Eleanor could see it from a distance. He gave up on the attempt and held the ball against his stomach.

“I… I’ve grown… so much…“

Eugene’s face held a kind of sadness and longing she had never seen before. And yet, his trembling voice kept forcing the words out between quaking lips.

“So why… why does the hoop feel like… it’s so much further away now?”

She took a step toward her friend, who was on the verge of breaking into tears. But then she stopped herself. Did she have the right to touch him? She wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe she was the last person he wanted to be comforted by right now.

Seeing how deeply the pain was still ingrained in him after all these years touched her to the core. She doubted that she truly understood his trauma, but she sensed that she might soon begin to. She wanted nothing more than to share in the loneliness of his pain.

“Eugene, do you want…?”

Before she could finish her question, Eugene threw a hard pass at her. Despite being caught completely off guard, she managed to catch the ball. Eugene sniffed once.

“Show me what you got.”

His teary eyes looked at her with anticipation. Eleanor couldn’t remember the last time she had played basketball. Her interest in the sport was close to zero. But what could possibly go wrong? She turned toward the hoop, took aim, and then launched the ball with such force into the air that it violently crashed against the backboard from where it bounced straight back to Eugene. She looked at him, the ball once more resting in his hands, and shrugged her shoulders.

“If you’re looking for someone to play with, I’m your girl. But if you’re seeking a challenge, I’m probably not the right woman for the job.”

She tried her best to imitate an encouraging smile. Eugene in turn walked toward her. He passed her the ball again, gently this time. It bounced once on the asphalt between them and landed softly in her hands.

“Come on. Let me show you how it’s done.”

As Eugene stepped closer and positioned himself behind her as if that were perfectly natural, she barely managed to suppress the joyful grin spreading across her face. She replied with feigned indignation instead.

“I thought you’d go full smartass on me and say something like: ‘You throw like a girl!’”

Eugene stood directly behind her now.

“Oh, you do. But you don’t need me to tell you that.”

She enjoyed how relaxed he seemed around her again. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her neck. He put his hands on hers. His fingers were cold, just like her own. And yet, she felt a warmth she wanted to wrap herself in. Instinctively, she leaned back into him, letting him support her.

“Don’t put both your hands under the ball. Okay, you’re right-handed. So, right hand under the ball, the left stabilizes it from the side. Yes, like that.”

He shaped her hold of the ball with his hands.

“Now, spread your fingers. Perfect. Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart. Keep your forearm at about a 90-degree angle. Elbow under the ball, wrist too…”

His hands guided her arms into the correct position. With just the tip of his middle finger, he nudged her elbow under the ball. His foot kept tapping softly against her boots until she stood shoulder-width apart. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders to straighten her posture.

“Bend your knees. The power in your shot comes mostly from your legs, not your arms. When you shoot, extend your legs and your arm together. And as the ball leaves your hand, snap your wrist like you’re waving it goodbye. All clear?”

Eleanor nodded. She tried her best to focus on his explanation. She didn’t want to disappoint him. But the fact that he was willing to get that close to her again, that he trusted her like that, made her so happy that she barely kept it together.

“Good. Next, you take the shot. Eyes on the rim. And most importantly: neither the ball nor the hoop is your enemy. Once you’ve got a clear shot like this, you’ve already beaten all your enemies. Solve the problem in front of you with precision, not force. And now - shoot! You got this!”

Eugene let go and took a step back. She was determined to follow his instructions, even as her blurry vision made it difficult to keep her eyes on the rim. She swallowed once, blinked her tears away until she could at least make out her target, and then she went for it. She tried her best to put into action what Eugene had taught her and finally set the ball in motion.

She saw it rise into the air, then fall as it closed in on its destination. This time, the trajectory wasn’t a straight line colliding with the backboard but a beautiful parabola aligned with the hoop. The ball almost made it in, bounced once on the rim, only to drop through the hoop after all, granting Eleanor that small wish.

Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief. In all honesty, she couldn’t have cared less about the ball, the hoop, or whether she had any talent for basketball at all. All she cared about was not to destroy this moment that seemed so fragile.

She had only taken a single step toward the ball when she suddenly felt Eugene hugging her from behind. With his arms resting above her chest, he pulled her close. She could feel him burying his face in her hair.

“It’s okay… I forgive you. But Eleanor, that was really dumb.”

His voice was barely a whisper, and yet she could understand every word with his lips so close to her ear. She put her hands on his arms and started to cry in relief. She didn’t know how long they stood there like this. She only knew that Eugene was crying too, when she felt his tears on her neck.

Once they had calmed down, she could hear Eugene’s soft voice whispering in her ear again.

“Would you like to talk about what really happened?”

Eleanor began to shiver. Eugene kept holding her tight, without pressing her for an answer. She wanted to tell him, but now that the moment was close, she wasn’t sure whether she’d actually be able to get the words out. Still, she was going to try.

“Mhm… But can we sit down first?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Cautiously, Eugene let go of her. But he kept an eye on her as if he was afraid she might topple over without his support, ready to steady her again at a moment’s notice. She let him lead her to a nearby park bench. There, they sat down next to each other.

Eugene adopted a demonstratively relaxed posture. He leaned back, his arms draped over the backrest, one ankle resting on his opposite knee. Eleanor, however, sat slightly hunched forward, her gaze lowered, her hands folded in her lap. She made herself look small.

For a couple of minutes, they just sat there. Eleanor was cold, but she didn’t care. Eugene must have been cold too now that he no longer kept himself warm by moving and shooting. But he didn’t show it either and patiently waited for her to begin talking. He didn’t look at her at all, his gaze fixed on the hoop. Eleanor realized that he was trying hard not to pressure her. She couldn’t just say it. But maybe, she thought, she’d be able to close in on the truth one step at a time.

“Um… so, what I said about my mother, her calling… You remember?”

She barely managed to speak a full sentence when she already found herself needing his reassurance. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he still looked relaxed, that he still didn’t look at her.

“Mhm.”

His minimal response barely qualified as speech. A sound of approval, that was it.

“Well… that was a lie. My mother screwed up a lot of things over the years… but I didn’t talk to her at all on Friday.”

Eugene simply nodded. He didn’t ask her why she had lied, he just kept listening.

“You probably remember that I had that meeting with Professor Robertson earlier that day…”

Her hands started to shake. But she forced herself to go on.

“Of course you do. You even asked how it went. I’m sorry I ignored your text.”

Not even Eleanor herself could have explained why she was apologizing for that. She was fully aware that an ignored text was the last thing on his mind right now.

“And it actually did go well… at first. At least, I thought it did.”

Then silence again. Eugene had become the very embodiment of patience.

“I was so… happy. He had offered me a job, he wanted to help me get a scholarship. He had given me a tissue when I cried telling him about how my mother cut me off. He was so nice. It was like he had solved all of my problems in less than half an hour…”

Her hands in her lap clenched into fists. She glanced at Eugene again. She wasn’t looking for anything in particular. She just needed to make sure he was still there.

“Everything was fine… I was about to leave because we had just said goodbye. But then he asked me to wait a moment, and walked toward me.”

She hid her face in her hands and leaned over even further.

“I thought, maybe he wanted to shake hands before I left...? But… but… instead he… suddenly just… kissed me.”

She was breathing heavily now.

“I didn’t know what to do, Eugene! He had just given me everything I wished for, everything I needed! I could have punched him, kicked him, pushed him away… I should have. But I… did nothing. I just… let him… do…”

Her words were getting lost in her whimpering. She didn’t even notice how Eugene had changed his position and was now sitting close to her. She became only aware of his presence when she felt the gentle pull of his arm around her shoulder.

For one, two, maybe three minutes, Eugene didn’t say anything. He just sat next to her, softly stroking her arm. It was only when she was ready to take in his words, that she heard his voice.

“It’s not your fault.”

Eugene told her what she needed to hear most of all. Eleanor could sense how much effort it took him to focus solely on being there for her. The loud grinding of his teeth revealed the anger brewing inside him.

“But I really could have just punched him! I know! Earlier today, he tried… again… and I, I did exactly that. It was so easy, Eugene! So easy… he ra… and I just let it happen…”

Eugene’s soft embrace tightened. But she couldn’t tell whether he was trying to give weight to his soothing presence or whether it was just his anger rising. He placed his other hand tenderly on hers, trying to slowly pull her hands away from her face.

“Eleanor, look at me.”

His words met the formal criteria of a command, but in reality they were no more than a loving request. She looked into his earnest but kind face.

“It’s his fault alone. You hear me? Everything that happened is his fault alone. And pushing him away like you did today, that’s incredibly brave.”

Eleanor threw herself into his arms with such force that they almost fell off the bench. Eugene held her tight, gently stroked her hair, and tried to warm her with his body. She was shivering and sobbing in his embrace. She knew he’d hold her for hours if she needed him to.

Every touch of his carried love and appreciation which she soaked up like a parched sponge. Her head rested on his shoulder. He had become her dearest pillow. The rhythmic beat of his heart beneath her hand was a lullaby that granted her a peace she thought she had forgotten. The tenderness with which he stroked her hair allowed her to relax completely. She was finally able to let go of the latent vigilance that had relentlessly followed her these last few days. His arms radiated an infinite strength she was all too willing to seek refuge in.

He placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Then he whispered a calm

“I’m here.”

that was meant for her, and her alone. She couldn’t speak. Her only reply a nod that smeared her tears of relief into the fabric of his shirt. In the safety of his arms, she rediscovered her trust in a happy future.

She had let go of all inhibitions and cried her heart out. But it didn’t take long for her to calm down again. Nestled up softly to Eugene, she was quiet now. Her exhausted body and mind could have fallen asleep like this. She’d ask Eugene to sleep next to her tonight. But before she even had a chance to drift off, she heard Eugene quietly accusing himself.

“I’m so sorry. I should have seen the signs. Me of all people… Instead, I left you alone. I…”

Then he stopped talking and shook his head. Eleanor saw that he felt responsible but was preventing himself from making this moment about his guilt. That’s why he hadn’t finished what he was about to say.

It pained her to see him blame himself even though she had hurt him. She realized that what he had told her applied to him as well. It was Robertson’s fault, and nobody else’s. She looked straight into Eugene’s eyes. She knew exactly what she wanted to say. And this time, there was no hesitation in her voice.

“Eugene, I decided earlier this morning that I wouldn’t just sit back and take it anymore. But I can’t do this alone. I need you. Will you help me?”

The determination radiating from her reddened eyes was contagious. Eugene wiped a tear off her cheek. His response was an equally determined nod.

The End
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And that was the last chapter. If you read to the end, thank you so much. Your thoughts, your feedback, your rating, it's all very welcome! I'll create a long post that talks about writing and translating this story probably in a few days from now. But suffice to say, I'm happy with how the story and the translation turned out.


edit: Oh, and I know what you are wondering right now. The story didn't answer the most important question: Why the fuck would Claire ghost Eugene?! He's so sweet! If you want to find out why, read: Record Chaser next. Leave a comment and rating here, earn some reputation for your feedback, and use that to unlock Record Chaser.

[Claire]

Before I forget: A big thank you to @Vela Nanashi, @Lucius, @SoftGameHunter and @mcpa1597 for commenting so much on this story as I kept working on the translation. I was always looking forward to your thoughts!

[Lucius]

... and the story of Eleanor (Eugene, too!) has begun.

I like how full of hope she is, how understanding E & E are -- they're emotionally ready to sustain one another on the way. Yep, the sequel won't be out of place.