The Fateful Heart

Evaline smiled gently, but somehow, it felt forced. A short silence filled the space between them, and although James didn't say anything more, she couldn't help but notice the hint of sorrow in his body language, like he was sad over the fact that he disliked being alone.

She had been told in the past that she could strengthen her empathy skills, especially if it involved strangers. But right now, empathizing was all she could do.

And she felt lonely. She felt his loneliness.

She ruminated in this feeling, gazing into the fire with lightly furrowed brows before quietly sighing and turning to face him.

"If you had a farm," she began with a soft smile, "what would it be like? What would you grow?"

Of all the questions she could've asked, he wasn't sure what to expect, but it hadn't been that. James laughed with a "hmph" and shook his head a little, thinking.

"Well, I guess it would depend on how much land I had, and if I had hired hands or not. If it was only me working the fields, I think I'd only really have one plot - maybe two if I felt ambitious. Since I'd be growing with the intent of selling, I'd want to vary my crops a little bit. Maybe some corn, potatoes, beets, radishes. It also depends on the season, of course. I'd love to grow strawberries at some point, I think. They can be a little tricky, but they're delicious, and worth the labor. Oh, and also zucchini. They can get so big, and they're my favorite vegetable. I remember we had some zucchini that got this big-" he held his hands in front of him, holding them apart from each other, about shoulder-width. "-And we had to figure out how many different types of dishes we could make out of zucchini without getting sick of it. Fortunately, my mom was a great cook, so I didn't at least. Pretty sure my dad did, though."

He stopped, realizing he'd shared a lot more than the question required, and also strayed off-topic, and fell silent. Something in the back of his mind told him to stop talking about himself so much.

Evaline blinked, listening to him spill all these details about farming and crops. She had to suppress a giant smile as she wanted to appear unfazed as he talked, but when he finished, she couldn't repress it anymore.

"I've never heard you talk so much before," she said through a small laugh, pulling her knees up so they were against her chest. It wasn't exactly a ladylike position with her skirt and all, but she still had on pants, and her legs were falling asleep.

"That sounds lovely, though," she said gently, wrapping her hands around her knees and smiling at the fire. "It's always nice to hear people talk about things they're passionate about."

I've never heard you talk so much before made James feel like, up until this point, Evaline thought he hardly talked at all. He did talk. Just not all at once.

He pinned his eyes to the ground.

"Maybe I'll figure out what gets you talking," he said quietly. "At some point."

It would be nice to hear what she was passionate about too.

Evaline smiled gently, not looking away from the fire. "Yeah," she said softly. "Maybe."

She bit her lip and sighed, deciding to lower her walls. Just this once.

"Actually, I..." she faltered as she realized she once again began her sentence without knowing how to say what she wanted to say. She tried again.

"I don't really have anything I'm passionate about. So... good luck with that."

James looked up at her, watching as the light of the fire flickered across her face. There was something about her expression that seemed wistful, but also sad.

He was quiet for a moment as he watched her, trying to hear the layers behind what she said. He wished he knew.

"Not all passions are easily put in the box of an occupation, or an activity," he said slowly.

"I think part of life is discovering your passions. And as you grow, sometimes they're clearer, and sometimes they're muddier. And sometimes they change."

His eyes flicked to the fire, and around their little campsite. For a second, he thought he heard something, but he wasn't sure if it was real, or just his mind making it up.

He didn't see anything.

"You might not know of a particular thing you're passionate about, but from what little I know about you, I refuse to believe you're devoid of passion altogether."

If it was any other circumstance, she would probably start feeling defensive that she was receiving an unsolicited therapy session. But with the flow of the conversation and tonight's events, his words were soothing. She appreciated them.

But he was right; she wasn't devoid of passion. She used to be passionate, but now they have been replaced with other feelings. She wasn't sure what to call them, but it wasn't passion.

"You know," she said, flicking him an appreciative glance before looking back at the fire. "That's in our list of demands. For the war, I mean. We demand the freedom to choose our occupation, but passion goes hand-in-hand with that."

A part of her brain was screaming at her wondering why she was being tricked to give away free information when it was his turn, but it was overpowered by her realization that adults did have unrelated passions. She just wasn't sure if it would develop naturally for her, given her current circumstances.

We demand the freedom to choose our occupation. Things were starting to take shape, just a little, in his mind. People in Evaline's world had powers, and they were born into a world built around that. People were pigeonholed into occupations based on their genetics - the abilities they were born with - and it affected every part of their lives. It reached into their relationships, like with arranged marriages. It changed the course of their childhoods, so much so that Evaline was forced to focus on skills like drawing, which enhanced her ability, instead of things she might have once been more passionate about, like playing the piano.

It sounded like an oppressive regime - one that demanded not just a shift in the current powers in the world, but a shift in the culture. Things like that shaped worldviews, and livelihoods.

It sounded like a war worth fighting. He wondered just how much Evaline sacrificed to fight it. She kept referring to "when she left," but many details were left out. Like what drove her to that point, and how she got connected with the rebellion in the first place.

It wasn't his place - or even his turn, in the game - to ask, but he did wonder. He wondered how much the stakes of the war weighed on her.

He decided to risk it. Asking a question, even though he might get shut down.

"Have you ever thought of what you'd want to do if you won? If you got to choose your own occupation?"

His question crawled under her skin.

She honestly had no idea. For once, she didn't think that far ahead. It wasn't like she didn't want to think ahead.

It was just...

"Wait," she said, snapping back to reality. "Why am I the one answering the questions? Isn't it still your turn?"

She narrowed her eyes at him.

He knew this was going to happen, but he wasn't quite ready to come up with more facts, and he didn't want to drop it just yet. He knew he could try to pry it out with force, but he had a gut feeling Eve would only fight back harder with that kind of pressure.

Maybe if he... begged? It was a childish idea, but it amused him. If he didn't get any answers out of it, hopefully, it would at least make her laugh.

He pouted as she narrowed her eyes at him, and he met her eyes. His eyebrows arched upward, just a little, and he widened his eyes in the most convincing pleading expression he could muster. He pursed his pout a little deeper, for good measure.

He knew he didn't need words for this. His face spoke for him.

Her eyes turned to squinted slits at him as he pouted like a child. What kind of face was that? She had no idea whether she should laugh or be suspicious—wait, actually, she did know. She felt suspicious, mostly because that face did not fit him and it made her uncomfortable seeing him like this.

"I really don't know," she said, afterward realizing that, for some unexplainable reason, his stupid plan was working.

But he only widened his eyes even more in plea.

"No, really, I... I haven't..." she stammered, her expression morphing into one of uncomfort as she continued to stare at his ridiculous expression. "I haven't thought about it..."

But what did he do? Arched his eyes and pouted his lips some more. Evaline was starting to feel second-hand embarrassment for him.

"I haven't thought about it because I didn't think I'd survive!" she blurted out quickly. The tension left her body as his expression melted away, but then she immediately—immediately—regretted saying those words.

"I-I mean," she quickly backpedaled, panicking. "Not that I thought that daily. Or am in danger. I just, uh, well, I don't know, I don't really know what the future is like anymore, and I, well, I sometime think, that what I do, is a lost cause, and I just. Gah!"

She smacked her hand to her face, facepalming herself and feeling her cheeks warm up again.

It was so embarrassing... She couldn't believe... that she fell.. for THAT...

James didn't expect her answer to hit something deep inside him that he didn't even know was there.

He felt the same way.

He didn't think he was going to make it much longer out here, living life like this. Except, he wasn't fighting a war with purpose, he was just running away, on his own.

His expression had melted away, and he looked at her with far more sincerity.

"That's okay," he said softly. "When the future is that uncertain, it doesn't really feel right to think ahead too much."

He wasn't sure what to say about her fight feeling like a lost cause. He felt like, to a degree, he could understand, but there was probably more he didn't know about.

There was a brief moment of silence before he cleared his throat.

"Well. You still have one more question you can uh, ask me. Before I go again."

Evaline closed her eyes and sighed, moving her hand so it pinched the bridge of her nose. James said something soothing, probably, but her mind was too distracted to fully absorb the words.

It was her turn to ask a last question, but honestly, she couldn't recall right away what his truths and lie were, and she didn't want to dwell on it too much.

"I don't know," she said quickly, letting her hand fall back on top of her knees as she stared at the ground in front of her with deep focus. "What future do you see for yourself?"

Dead, was the first thing that came to mind, but he didn't want to say that. One, it was depressing, and two, well, it just made things awkward.

He sighed.

"In a perfect world, maybe, I'm finally able to settle down somewhere at the edge of the earth, where nobody knows my real name. And who knows. Maybe I could start a farm," he said.

It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't exactly the truth either. He didn't actually see that for himself. That was the ideal picture. The palatable one.

"But at the moment, I don't really see my life looking much different than it does right now."

Evaline was finally able to calm her nerves, and at last, she looked back at James, even studying him a bit like she had been when she was drawing him.

It occurred to her that... they seemed to have even more in common than she thought. He sounded uncertain about his answer, possibly because he hadn't really thought about it too. Just like her. And he sounded stuck in his current situation, unable to do anything but run away. Evaline still lightly disagreed that there was more he could do, but she was biased because he didn't have the same advantage she did. So, for the most part, he was...

Just like her.

Traitors to the government. Wanted people. Stuck in their position. An unclear future.

She wondered if they had any other uncanny similarities.

"Well," she said with a sigh, looking away again. "Here's to a perfect world."