If there is going to be change, real change, it will have to work its way from the bottom up, from the people themselves. That's how change happens.

Howard Zinn

"Stupid."

"Careless."

"Beaut- idiotic love of my life..." I mumble in short whispers, draping the blanket over the space-needing hunk of my man. He, idiotically and carelessly, decided to sleep on the couch, without the heater on. First, he can barely fit on there. Second, he's only in his boxers.

He can be so dumb sometimes.

I stroke his open hair after making sure he's tucked into the woolen blanket. A pout ends up on my face at the thought of the self-conflict, worry and feelings of disappointment that he must be trying so hard to keep inside. I really want to scream that Emily would've forgived him.

I spent the entire night blaming myself, even though I knew it was irrational.

If I hadn't told him, he wouldn't have broke the promise or gotten himself into so much trouble. I if I hadn't told him, Dalaric would not have needed space. But if there's anything, apart from the other million things, that I've learnt from my time with the love of my life, it's that I matter too. And I know that's what he would say. If he was awake, and I wasn't staring creepily at him jutted lips. One kiss wouldn't...

Bad Maya. Think innocent thoughts. You creeper.

Sighing, I give him a forehead kissie before walking towards the kitchen. I'm planning on making dinner today, something I'm not very good at. Safe to say Dalaric is the handy one. He also fills the dishwasher so quickly. It tkaes me four songs, three catch games with kipp and seven pouts to get one load done. I search the cabinets for any ingredients that I have to get from the store after my shift at the café.

Setting some painkillers, a bowl of warm soup, three glasses of water and a small teddy bear shaped chocolate onto a tray, I place it on the dining table along with a note saying 'I love you. Please eat. Will be very angry (might ugly cry) if you don't.' with a tiny smiley face sticker on the end.

As anyone can tell, I really don't know what space means. I thought he meant the bed got too small for him. He did grow a centimeter the last time we checked our heights and updated our markings on the bedroom wall. Mm.

Is space what Mama wanted ? The long nights, even weeks, I was left alone and scared. Was that her needing space away from me ? Why does everyone need space? I frown as I wait by the driveway for Fatima, regretting not googling it last night. It's still pretty early as I scare away one of the birds. There's a trail, opposite to our house, that leads us up to the city in just five to ten minutes. Dalaric forced me to jog with him but ended up carrying the whole way back. We got ice-cream on the way too.

I really wish he didn't need space.

Why would he need space ? I don't know. All I do know is that I'll do my best to give it to him. Even if I have no clue how.

It's not like I'm ever letting him go. He can take however much space he needs. Just as long as it doesn't involve mingling with anyone else. Hopefully it also doesn't involve making Mr.Jones Sr. sleep on the floor. An old penguin can't survive that backpain.

A black ferrari pulls up into the driveway, making an excited Kipp peck my head, asking me who it is. I pet him goodbye and walk towards where Fatima parks, instinctively looking back into the house. I don't want to leave him alone, at all, but he needs space and I think that doesn't entail me watching him sleep. Did I leave the heater on or did I-

"Munchkin, get in! I'm hungry." Fatima mutters, her narrowed eyes following me as I get into the car before buckling up. Either my face is an open book or she's just really good at reading people. Both. I think it's both.

"Did he shoot the fat penguin finally ?" I gasp, smacking her lightly on her arm. Wowie , she has very nice biceps.

"It-" My mind contemplates whether I should tell her or not. After a few moments of gazing into the abyss, I decide not to. It's not my place to say. I shouldn't share his personal problems like that, no matter how close I am to him. Or how much I want to bite him.

"It's okay. Shush. You wanna talk about the scum of the earth ? Name starts with L and ends with pervert." She glares at the rode ahead, her fist tightening on the steer wheel. Jeezdoodles.

"Um- no, not really. Sor-" I don't need to apologise. I don't need to apologise. I mentally chant to myself, hoping she can understand me. Fatima, being my best friend, only pinches my cheeks and passes me a gluten-free donut.

"How's your diet going ?" I mumble, chewing on the suprisingly delicious donut. My eyes wander to her perfecly put together outfit which consists of a black slacks, a long beige coat and a black turtle neck underneath. Her hijab is a light brown color which brings out her darker complexion. Not to brag or anything, but I helped her pick it out. Teehee.

"Going good so far. Do you know how expensive keto food is ? My bank account is crying. But I'm getting there." She mumbles as she munches on a granola bar, switching lanes as we get closer to the café.

"You've got this far ! And you're doing so well, I can already see the differences." She smiles in response, giving me a fist bump as we reach the café. Fatima sighs and pulls me into a hug,

"You're okay ? Are you hurt ?" Her voice is etched with concern but I'm used to it. She's a worrybug. Is that how it goes ? Sigh.

"I'm fine, I promise. He didn't- I'm fine." I mutter. I'm only fine because of him.

"Ricky," She sighs, hugging me tighter. "They're suspending him but he's not getting charged, as of now. Thought you should know. It'll be okay, Maya." Fatima says, her concern for Dalaric also apparent.

"Thank you, I needed that." We pull apart. She grins at me and I grin back, really thankful for this girl.

"No need, what are best friends for ? Oh God, please don't cry." I giggle as her eyes widen, giving her a fist bump before wishing her a safe drive.

Jim gives me a bear hug and I don't feel the need to plaster a smile as the shift starts. Soon, families and couples waddle in and I get to work. One of my co-workers shows me a picture of baby duck. It's too cute. Great, now I want a baby duck too. Would Dalaric want one ? Maybe if I disguise the duck as a gun... yeah, that would work.

I instinctively check my phone every two minutes incase a special someone wants anything. I hope he drank the soup. I even added some ginger. What was he thinking sleeping like that in the cold...

"Excuse me."

"Oh. Sorry. Hello ! What can I get you ?" I say, embarassed at how zoned out I was. I grab a menu from the shelf below the counter before looking up.

Oh. I didn't expect this.

"Hi Caroline !" The blonde in front of me looks up from her phone and I wave. She scans me, quirking a brow.

"Hm, Taya, was it ?" I only smile and shake my head.

"Oh, that's a nice name but it's actually Maya!" She scans me again, her look is scrutinising.

"I'll have a mocha to go, and one of those.." She points to a strawberry tart. I put in the order and get back to the counter, giddy at a familiar face, even though I've only met her once.

Caroline leans on the counter, her tall form having to bend down to my own. Yup, bow down to me. That was rude, Maya.

She smirks, her long acrylic, very nicely done and pretty nails coming to brush a flyaway from her smooth forehead. What toner does she use ?

"How's Ricky doing ?" My smile falters. I wish I knew. I should put in cameras at home so I can watch him whenever I'm not around.

Bad Maya. Think legal thoughts.

"He's fine. How are you ?" I set some of the menus in a pile, not failing to notice how her smirk falters as I ask.

"I'm, uh, good." Caroline clears her throat and stands up straighter. Wowie, her dress is so pretty.

"Your dress is so pretty ! Where'd you get it ?" She's wearing a floral print bodycon that's tight on her slim figure. The flowers on it look surreal. Would that look good on me ? You mean, would Dalaric like it ? Hmph.

"Um, it's custom made." She makes a weird face as I pull out my phone, sending her a sheepish smile when she catches a look at the penguin couple screensaver. "Tell me, Maya..." I hum in response, my gaze wadering to the door as the cafe bell chimes.

"Do you know how big of a player Ricky was ? God, he's such eye-candy. You must worry a lot, huh ?"

"Nope." Soulmates don't worry about things like that.

"Shame, you probably can't keep all the past girlfriends away can you ?" She smirks again, her glossy lips looking smug.

"I don't need to. I also don't care about his past as much as you apparently do, so it's no biggie. You both must be good friends though, do you want to come over for dinner sometime ? We can all catch up ?" I ask, excited to use the gold rimmed plates I bought for whenever we have guests.

"Um, no.. we're not friends, he rejected me when we worked together in training." Her look turns sad as she reminisces.

"I'm sure you'll find someone ! Although, you probably shouldn't be very...nosy, if you want a good chance, y'know ? " I smile, looking warily at the customers behind her. She should get going.

Setting her mocha and tart in a bag, I push it towards her after drawing on a smiley face.

"Oh, yeah...right. Sorry..." She clears her throat as I wave away her apology."You really are as kind as they say...weird." Caroline mumbles to herself as she walks away with the bag in her hand.

"Bye bye! Have a good day !" I grab another menu, prepared to greet my next customer.

"Hello ! Oh, Vera ?" Wow, it feels like I know the entire town. Hmm, guess I may as well buy a motorbike and sunglasses, put on my leather jacket and drive up to school noisily to catch everyone's attention and pull pranks on teachers while smirking...badgirl Maya does have a nice ring to it.

"You're so cool..." She says, looking at me in a daze before I wave a hand in front of her, giggling. "Um, sorry. Hi. I'll just take a water but I only came here to give you this." Vera hands me a thin paper with a large smiling sun on it.

"There's a costume party at the children's hospital nearby. It lasts for a few hours and you can bring Ri..." She falters in her speech, looking around.

"You can say his name, y'know." I laugh at her scared expression. If only she knew how much he likes cuddling our penguins.

"Sorry, he just scares the living daylights out of me. He carries a gun..." Vera laughs sheepishly before taking the water bottle from me. She's so adorable. "Hope you and...Ricky can make it." She walks out of the cafe and I watch her being grabbed by a pouting Dean, who refuses to let her go even after she seemingly gets mad at him.

Ah, young love. You're eighteen, Maya. Nineteen in a week, actually.

Soon, the day ends and I decide to take a cab back home, not feeling the need to bother Fatima. I also grab a few things from the store. I'm making Fettucine Alfredo and I'm excited even though I've never made a dish that looks this complicated. I only have one or two worries about my abilities but I'm sure it'll be fine.

"I'm home !" There's no response and I frown, dropping the things in the kitchen and making my way towards the guest room. I hear the shower on and I sign in relief. He's okay. I rush back into the kitchen after freshening up a bit, getting my handy apron on, which has a picture of two chonky penguins in love. Dalaric uses it too.

Maybe he's gotten enough space ? I was out of the house for a few hours so... Nope. No time to worry. Only time to cook for your man so you can have all the cuddles you want and don't feel the need to cry over how much you miss him.

"Okay...let's do this."

- - -

I can't do this.

My fingers clasp the drawer, my mind telling me not to do what I'm about to do. But I have to. I can try. I pull open the drawer, my confidence faltering when I see the sharp knifes set under bubble wrap. He tries his best to keep them away from me.

Taking a deep breath in, I pick the smallest one, knowing that doesn't make a difference. I focus on my heavy breathing, trying not to look at how sharp, and dangerous it is. I can do this. Putting the garlic under the tip, I whimper as it slices through. The flashbacks don't start as I cut, not aware that I'm not getting it chopped. Why can't I do this ?

Stifling another whimper, I start again, shaking away the tears when my hands shake uncontrollably.

It's just a knife. It's just a knife.

Before the first tear falls on the blade, warm hands cover my own, halting my futile attempts.

"Turn." I do as he says, turning in his holding and mushing my face into his clothes chest, not wanting to ever look or touch that thing again. I can't do it. And maybe that's okay.

I can hear the chopping for another minute as I stay in the same position, not moving from in between his body and the counter. I can't do the simplest things, even for him. After a few clangs of dishes and the sizzling of a frying pan, only then does he pull me away, cradling my face in the hands I've missed so much today.

"The fuck were you thinking ?" His hair is open and his face is perfect, even with the red rimming of his eyes. He was hurting and I couldn't be there. Why does space hurt so much ?

"I just wanted to..." It's so embarrassing. "...for you." Dalaric shakes his head, his hands on my cheeks getting firmer.

"Listen to me." He mutters as my eyes immediately meet his beautiful ones.

"You don't do shit for me, if it hurts you. Fine?"

"I.." He clenches his jaw, his fingers almost subconsciously stroking my face. "Fine."

Dalaric nods in response, backing away from me and letting go of my warmed face. He looks at the stove, and then at the pasta before shaking his head.

"You eat. I'm not hungry." Is all he says before leaving, the sound of a door shutting close following.

Oh. He's lying, I know. Dalaric barely eats when he's not with me. Idiot. I rush and make the rest of the dish, plating it and setting it aside before I clean up the mess on the counters.

There's no time to sigh in defeat or to feel sorry for myself. When I needed him, he was always there. Thinking of how much he's done for me as a person, without even knowing it, makes me realise just how much I love him. Dalaric never forced me to change. He never tried to. That's because people can't change just because someone tells them to.

I was at my lowest when I met him. Every night was spent crying, bleeding and wishing for a way out. He helped me understand that the only way out was through me.

Healing starts from within. Other people are not rehabiliation centers for the damaged, said that therapy pamphlets that the nurse had given me at my time in the hospital. I cried, because I realized that it was true. Dalaric was not my change, no. He doesn't love me because I changed him and I don't love him because he changed me. I love him because he's him. He's Dalaric. I love him either way. I just love him. That's all there is to it. It's love.

You don't feel the need to change the person you love. You help them be themselves, by loving them completely. By cherishing them, by not letting them have the space they think they need. He needs me. And I'm not in his arms.

It was so hard, realising that I was living in denial. Denial about my own mother, the people around me who I stupidly called 'friends' and my own imperfections. But slowly, yet surely, after each day that I spent with him, I knew that something had changed within me. I met new people, people I've come to admire.

I realised I matter. I realised that my voice matters. I realised that I'm beautiful, no matter what a materialistic society says. I'm me. I'm enough. Dalaric might have not screamed it in my face, but I did realise it, and now I accept it. That's what real change is. The Maya about seven months ago would be proud.

I'm so in love with him.

Which is why I refuse to leave him alone. I nod determinedly to myself, sprinkling some parmesan on the pasta.

My feet take me to the guest room, the plate of pasta in my hand. Three knocks later, there's still no response.

"Can I come into, um, your space, please ?" I mumble, my head resting on the wood of the guest room door. I miss him even though he's a few meters away from me.

There's a small cough that echoes from the room, my hands reluctantly pushing it open. I should've waited for an answer but my love got the best of me. I can feel the edges of my heart crack when I notice Dalaric.

He has his head cradled in his hands, a square picture in between his fingers. He looks so tired.

"Baby ?"

"Go, Mayella. Just.. don't." Don't see me like this, is what he looks like he wants to say. I shake my head, placing the plate on the side table before crawling towards the edge of the bed where his sits against.

"Look at me." I murmur, laying one hand upon his cheek. I love him so much. He shakes his head, the veins in his hand more apparent when he clutches his head tighter, a self conflict arising.

"I love you. I love you, Dalaric." One hand slides off his face, his eyes planted on the window in front of us. I move in front of his view, determined to make him meet my eyes.

"Look." Only then does his bloodshot eyes meet mine. My eyes sting so much, begging to let the tears escape. No, the only time I won't cry is when I need to be strong for him. He deserves my strength. He needs it. Don't cry, his own words of strength echo in my head. Don't cry.

Dalaric clenches his eyes, his lips pursing as he shakes his head and fists his hands. I cross my legs and sit right on the carpeted floor, making sure the only thing he can see is me.

"Come here, baby." I open my arms wide after patting my lap. His expression wavers, both his hands immediately pulling my body towards him as he hugs me close, his head in the crook of my neck.

Whispering countless declarations into his ear as his hold tightens each minute, my own expression falters when he speaks. His voice is weak, something I hate hearing. My Dalaric doesn't deserve that. I hate it so much.

"I broke-" He buried his face into my shoulder, his hands fisting against my back. "-I broke the promise."

"She loves you, Dalaric. She's your mother. She would understand, okay ?" He shakes his head. Another crack in my heart.

"It's all she wanted. All she fucking wanted before she- before she-" His voice is muffled, and I'm glad he can't see the expression on my face when I hold back a sob. My Dalaric doesn't deserve this.