puppycrush2 | week three

[. . . she seems to soften a bit, and Will does likewise along with her, some of the nervous tension seeping from his shoulders. okay. . . good. just. . . a little bit longer. . .]

[he moves towards the railing as well, folding his arms and resting his entire weight against the iron bars. only when she begins to point things out on the horizon does he tear his gaze away from her, following the line of her finger to each building. they're nothing like he has ever seen in Euchronia proper, but. . . they really are similar to the illustrations in his book. a thought to ruminate on for another day, perhaps]

. . . they are like the pictures in my book. There's a lot about this world that's. . . similar, I think.

[a tiny smile. a bit wistful]

Apartments are where people live, right?

[there are no apartments in Euchronia but I am definitely sayin he picked up this word sometime during his AYTO stay]

Yup. Each one of those lights is a person or a family.

[ and there's so, so many of them. anna watches the lights, the city's glow casting upward warmly on her face, and shivers a little when the breeze plays with her hair. brr. ]

And they're all tucked away nice and warm in their little houses. Probably eating dinner or watching TV. Paying no mind to the voyeurs looking at them from so high up.

[ them. it's them. ]

[. . . it's awfully tempting to reach out and brush some of those wayward strands of hair from her face. to slide an arm around her shoulders and draw her close to combat the cold. but. . . not now. he doesn't think she'd appreciate it if he did that now]

[lightly, shifting back from the railing, dipping his hand back into his pocket to close his fingers around his journal

I see. . . so we're the ones they should be worried about.

[TROUBLEMAKERS!!]

[ troublemakers!!!!! ]

Bingo. It's not like we can see anything besides if they turn off their lights or anything, though.

[ completely... unaware... of will's discreet movements. her gaze shifts back to the ocean. thinking of their time at the beach and pressing her lips together tight. not now. it's just... a nice, friendly outing, with... something hanging in the air she doesn't want to acknowledge, so she won't. ]

So I guess they're safer than they think.

I suppose so.

[that's okay. she doesn't have to acknowledge it. Will is already prepared to do it himself. he has to. after all. . . Anna has been carrying most of the emotional weight between them by herself these past two weeks. it's his turn to do his part]

[or maybe, more accurately. . . it's time for him to finally step up]

[and so he slips the journal from his pocket and flips it open, shifting to face her even as he leans one elbow against the railing]

I remember you're a member of a literature club back home. [one of the very first things they had learned about each other. it is what prompted him to share his fantasy novel with her on that very first day] . . . do you review a lot of poems?

Edited 2024-11-26 06:45 (UTC)

Poems...?

[ ...

thinking of the kind of literature they have back in the clubroom... her gaze is a little distant, but after a moment she finally turns her face towards him with a bit of an uncertain look. ]

Well... I guess there's a couple of them in there... but I've read more of them in class... [ ... a shake of her head. ] I'm not totally well-versed, but I know a pretty one when I hear it.

[ ...

she doesn't ask why, but her eyes do. curious but a little wary, for her heart's sake. ]

[okay. okay. steel yourself, Will. okay. . . this is it. it's now or never!1]

[he tries to be casual, but the intent way he stares at his open journal kind of belies his nerves. he's shivering against the cold now, the trenchcoat and scarf doing little to protect him from the wind. he takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly]

I enjoy reading, but I've always wanted to try writing, too.

[that's genuine. he's a literary buff through and through; he too would be a member of a literature club IF SUCH A THING EXISTED IN EUCHRONIA]

. . . I'd like to know what you think. [a beat. and then, lightly, mostly to dispel his frantically beating heart] To see if I have any talent at all.

[ he WROTE HER A POEM??????????????????????????????????

anna is setting that possibility from her mind. not too far away, just... slightly out of view, the corner of her mind's eye. kind of thing. he's nervous. it's making her... not as nervous, weirdly enough, but

also like she wants to leave, and her hands grip the railing tighter. will has to steel himself, but she's hunching a little as if doing the same herself.

...

it reminds her of nukumizu's friend confession on the rooftop... she doesn't know if she's necessarily ready to hear whatever it is will's written, because it's for her and there's no way it's not, how he's brought her here and made a point for there to be a lack of crew, which she has to assume is tsukasa's doing and she's going to kill him if so, and-- ]

Right. Um, sure. Go ahead. I'll give you my honest opinion.

[genuine!! honest opinion! that is what he is looking for, and he has no doubts that she'll give it to him, regardless of what it is. a tiny smile and a nod, and his gaze flicks back down to his journal as he opens his mouth, and--]

[leans in]

[I'm gonna be real, I can't write poetry for SHIT, so I ain't even trying]

[. . . but Will sure can!! he doesn't start with the title; instead, he launches right into the first verse. it's. . . a ballad, of sorts. a narrative told in poetic form, with eloquent verbiage and vivid images painted with words. it's a story about a couple who fell in love and lived by the sea, spending their days walking along the shoreline and fishing amidst the waves. it's clearly told from the man's point of view, because the descriptive focus is on the woman, who seems to share many traits with the ocean itself. a shimmering blue gaze, a smile that reflects the sun like water, an embrace as warm as the sand. . . and a tempestuous personality that displays her passion]

[one day, the woman leaves on a journey across the ocean, to far away lands where her love cannot follow. she promises to return, and he believes her. . . but on the night her boat sails into the horizon, a terrible storm whips the sea into a mad frenzy. the next morning, a piece of her boat washes upon the shore, and the man grieves]

[he grieves, but. . . he still believes her. she promised she'd return, and he believes]

[every day, he leaves his seaside shack to stand on the shore, allowing the water to lap at his ankles, gaze trained on the horizon as he searches for her boat. every day, the villagers tell him that he is foolish. that he should give up. that she is lost. they tell him that the village is moving further inland to escape the ocean's rage. they insist he come with them, that they need him to help provide food and protection for those who cannot care for themselves]

[. . . the plea tugs at the man's heart, for he knows what the villagers say is true. he is a kind man who has always given his all to the people around him. and yet. . . he doesn't listen]

[the villagers leave, and he remains in his shack, still wandering the sandy shores as he waits for her boat to return. . . completely alone]

[the years pass. the man grows older. not a single day passes that he does not sit on the beach, finding comfort in the warmth of the sun and sand around him that reminds him so much of his lost love. and then one day, when he is gray and wizened. . .]

[a boat appears on the horizon, a tiny little shadow against the vast blue sky. at first, he thinks he is hallucinating. she has been gone for so long. but after all that time. . . he never stopped believing, and he knows he must believe in this, too. and as the boat slowly glides onto the shore, he can see her at the front. his love, with her bright blue eyes and now grayed hair, stepping off her vessel, her feet leaving small indents in the wet sand]

[I'm home, she says]

[and the man moves to embrace her. to hold her close, as thought he never intends to let her go again. she smells of salt and brine, but it fills his entire body with warmth and love]

[. . .]

[it should be noted that Will has never been a particularly eloquent speaker. he does his best, but he tends to be soft spoken (firm, when needed). his writing is completely different-- expressive, bright, vivid and beautiful.]

[and when he is done, he slowly closes his journal]

[and takes a deep breath]

[and looks up at her]

[ HE WROTE HER A BALLAD???????????????

...

anna

cannot say she is well-versed in what makes a poem good or anything like that. but she does know that it's an enrapturing story, his soft, quiet voice not unlike the waves that wash against the shore so far off. that take the wife away, and so much later bring her back.

there's

something nagging her about it, that she can't put her finger on. something that's important. something that requires critical thinking, which famously she lacks. it's the kind of poem, she knows, that a teacher might use as homework to pick apart and present the themes with. she isn't smart in this way. she doesn't want to disappoint him with a lackluster reply.

but she's scared, too. of the way he looks at her. of the way he'd spoken, his written word... so eloquent, like a prince. for her. the railing is cold against her fingers and she thinks they might be stuck there for all she wants to move.

there's a quiet kind of devastation, of confusion, in her expression, face pinching and finally, finally, her foot takes half a step back. traitor of her nerves, alongside her soft, cracking voice. ]

... You... really wrote that? For...

[ ... her? anna clears her throat, or tries, but it's tight. ]

It was-- very nice. Pretty. I'm... I'm glad it ended happily. You're like... a totally different person when you write.

[HE WROTE HER!! A LOVE BALLAD!!!]

[he doesn't expect her to pick apart the themes of his story, though. this is not literature class, and essays analyzing the intent of his work are not required. the ballad. . . it only gets him partway there. it opens the door, and makes the things he wants to say in after it a little. . . easier. but he still needs to muster up the courage. . . to be truthful about why he did this]

[he sees her foot move, a half step in the direction he does not want (away from him, to some place he cannot follow, no matter how much he may want to), and his breath catches in his throat]

. . . I did. [softly, but with that sort of firmness in his tone that comes with absolute certainty] For you.

[he shared it with absolutely no one, not even when interrupted during his writing. it was for her, and she is the only one who gets to see it]

And-- um, thank you. [some pink blossoms on his cheeks as he fiddles with his book, running his gloved fingers across the spine] I don't think I'm the best at. . . expressing how I feel through verbal words.

[his eloquence is only rank three! he has debated other king candidates back home, but some of them probably went poorly]

It's easier when I put quill to parchment. [. . .] But you deserve more than that, too.

[she deserves to hear it directly from his lips, and he thinks. . . maybe now, he can say it]

Edited 2024-11-26 18:50 (UTC)

[ she knows, she knows, but she can't help it. why all this? if only because she can help him be a better king...

...

not that it explains their time together in the embrace space last week. none of that was for king stuff. she's tried wrapping her mind around it time and time again and nothing. she's tired of trying to work it out.

... so... if will wants to explain it, then... ]

Fine. I'll, um. I'll hear you out if you've got something to say. And... I won't leave like I did last time.

[ since she doesn't really have anywhere to go here. ]

[even more of the tension seeps from Will's shoulders at that. he exhales deeply, bundling his journal to his chest, one arm wrapped around it to keep it close, right over his heart]

. . . I think I made it too complicated last time. So. . . this time, I'll keep it simple.

[a pause]

I'm falling in love with you.

[another beat]

-- and I know it's really fast! I know it hasn't been that long!

[and then he starts speaking quickly and awkwardly, almost like he's afraid his words will be suffocating. that they might chase her away, especially if she does not feel the same]

But I've never felt this way before. And I don't really know how it works, or whether it can really happen so quickly, but when I think about--

[he stops himself. lifts his hand to his chest, fingers curled into a fist]

When I think about. . . this warm ache in my heart I have every time I'm with you. . . it has to be-- [no. that's not right. that makes him sound like he isn't certain. and he is]

[he shakes his head]

[he lifts his chin, features determined, jaw set]

No. . . that's definitely what it is. I'm completely sure of it.

[he hadn't been so sure when Tsukasa brought it up. he didn't know if it could really. . . happen so fast. but whether it does for other people or not doesn't matter]

[because it happened to him, and that's the important part]

[ anna doesn't move, doesn't breathe, as will's words tumble out. at the very first confession her face blooms red, the chilly air biting her cheeks fiercely, and her heart staggers. in the quiet of the night it feels impossibly loud.

is

it okay, then? to nurture that bud of hope that'd sprouted at some point? when things had become routine -- not in a bad way, but in a way where she looked forward to the end of the night when he made sure to bid her goodnight, to the morning when she might see him again -- and anna thought that maybe, maybe it had begun to feel more than a little real. the things she couldn't explain seem cast in a clear light now. that which she kept denying to herself weren't just probable, they were true.

her hands squeeze the railing again, then... one lets go, the other sliding as she inches back towards him. stops a bit from him still, ducking her face from his view a bit as she tries to

figure herself out, what to say and how to feel. she'd been ready to just be friendly and that be it. cordial if nothing else. play the game, work out the next match, and...

... and what. ignore what happened between them? the good and the bad, when she still couldn't get his face out of her mind? anna had never been good at letting go.

when she finally speaks, it's with a tremble that betrays her emotional state. ]

... Did you... really think that what you said before was a confession, Will-kun? Because if so, it sucked.

[ anna thinks of what she told asa. the formula of a romance story. but movies and reality are different; the end might not be so happy. maybe more like lala land, bittersweet at best.

but she doesn't want bittersweet. she wants to be sick over it. ]

I've been worried for almost a week now, [ as she looks at him through her bangs, red and teary eyed, ] about what was and wasn't... real. Between us. Because of-- our plan, and... and how eager you were to have me to yourself.

[ which is so, so the stuff of her dreams still. yes, it's fast. yes, it's sudden. but anna knows what love is like. she's been in love before. she didn't want to say anything, so wary was she of misinterpreting will and his inexperience and falling flat on her face about it, but-- ]

[ -- but he's falling in love with her. he's completely sure of it.

anna still can't believe it, her free had coming up to tug her scarf over her mouth. not unlike will's own nervous tics. ]

... Stupid. You're so stupid. They... call it love at first sight not because it's actually at a glance, but because it happens so swiftly. You just... fall. And fall hard. Because of something they said, or a smile meant only for you, or... or because of a goodnight kiss.

[ god. if that doesn't sound a little pathetic. but that tease taken too far... had been a spark, flamed further by his consideration, his care. the way he looked at her when she was looking at him and even when she wasn't. her heart aches. that choice, one not put upon by the rules of necessity... one he'd wanted to indulge... ah.

but of course will might not have known. his life hasn't been sunshine and roses the way hers has been in comparison -- anna knows she's... a minority in the normal department, just not how much of a minority.

god, she feels suffocated. but in such a good way, beet red and lightheaded. as if he'd kissed her silly without kissing her at all. ]

... Sorry, I've... never responded like, positively to a confession before, 'cause all of the guys were shallow about it... thinking I was easy, and stuff like that. Pretty people problems. So I don't know what to says beside, um. Yeah. Me too. To you, I mean. I wanna be your match, perfect or not.

[ she's got no room to talk about will's own fumbles before when she's lamely replying like this. she knows. she wants the ground to swallow her up too. ]

[ah. . . she. . .]

[she. . .]

[. . . she!!!]

[it doesn't matter that Anna's response is fumbled. Me too, she says, and that's all Will could ever ask for. and suddenly, it's like. . . someone flipped a switch, the way he stands up a little straighter, expression brightening like the city lights laid out before them, eyes twinkling like stars in the sky]

[Me too, she says. I wanna be your match, perfect or not.]

[. . . if asked, Will probably wouldn't be able to pinpoint the moment he stopped pretending. perhaps it was the embrace space that second week? the thrill of being able to steal her away, and everything said between them while they basked in each other's company. or maybe. . . every little thing between them had just. . . built upon something before, until suddenly he was faced with something so much bigger than himself. sharing with her his novel, telling her about his dreams, confiding in her his secrets. . . chasing crabs on the beach, and eating her rendition of redgrass-roasted bidou, and sitting on the couch watching that movie, and observing her work so hard to find everyone's matches, and--]

[. . . maybe it was a little bit of both. a combination of that spark, and all of the kindling around it that allowed it to burn into a roaring flame]

[and he reaches out for her hand, grasping it tightly in his own gloved fingers. he doesn't do much after that, because. . . for now, just holding it is enough]

I feel like I could fall and fall and keep falling forever and I'd never be able to stop. [but he likes that] But I don't want to stop, so it's okay.

. . . I want to be your match, too. Perfect or otherwise.

[ her fingers twitch in his grasp, as if not expecting to be held (but why wouldn't they be? if nothing else, this; if nothing else, this), and anna huffs in annoyance, other hand coming up to flick will's forehead. ]

See, that? What you said just then? Perfect. Full marks. You were doing so good ceremony night, my heart was about to fall right out of my chest, and when you said the rest of that...

[ another sniffle, and she wipes at her eyes. ]

I thought... I thought that I was right, and I'd been fooling myself, and... I couldn't explain-- everything, sure, but... I couldn't keep pretending I wasn't in love with you, if you didn't feel the same way.

[his smile fades, but only in bemusement. his grip on her hand is as sturdy as ever, as though rooted in place, never letting go]

The rest. . . [a beat. I'm sorry he has to think about it]

[but]

[he. . . he gets there]

About-- [wanting to learn from her. . . to be a better king? gods. he had meant it, truly, and he had thought she would be complimented. especially in the wake of being told that she could add nothing to his cause. . . when she has done the most to build him up. but. . . actually, if she took it as him meaning he only wanted her around for that purpose, then. . .]

-- Anna, I'm so sorry.

[quickly, insistently, he takes a step forward, to close some of the space between them]

I should have. . . said it then. But the moment didn't feel right, and I hadn't finished my ballad, and--

[and!! he was an idiot!!!!]

Edited 2024-11-27 05:52 (UTC)

And you're an idiot, I know. You're forgiven, okay? It's not like you've ever confessed before...

[ don't worry, she knows. she says it with frustrated affection, but she knows. god, her name... it really does sound so different when it's his mouth forming the word. warm and affectionate, filled to the brim and then some with-- with love, oh my god, with love.

anna hesitates, just a little, in that shy way he's come to know, before she closes the rest of the distance between them and takes his other hand, squeezing both. ]

So. You gonna ask me out, or am I gonna have to do it again? It's rude to keep a girl waiting.

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1/? idk i'm sorry for your inbox peace

2/3 actually your inbox is spared

3/4 OOPS ONE MORE

THERE FOR REAL I'M DONE

1/2 just for u

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1/3

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