⫶ astronomy tower

@－ ❛ s ❜：eleanora hwang。⁰³ “Man, that sounds like it ing and it is a lot,” Henri said and frowned, feeling bad for her. It was so much and she might be losing her best friend after she had already lost not only her mother but also her cat. Henri knew how horrible he would feel if he had lost his own cat, Cassiopeia being his little treasure, his little baby, and not having the hold of his best friend would probably just tear him apart. So it was not a surprise Eleanora was here right now, falling into so many tiny little pieces and crying her heart out.

“I’m not saying what you did was okay,” Henri said because he knew it was not. “You should not have lied to her in the first place. Have you apologized about that to her?” He gently rubbed her back and then nodded. “I am sure she does not hate you. She surely is hurt and angry, but she does not hate you.” He shook his head. No matter what his best friend would do, even if he slept with his partner, he could never hate him. “It’s gonna get better. Even though right now it sounds like a whole lot of you have to deal with.”

A soft sigh left his lips. “I’m sorry this happened to your mom, I cannot help with that. But where did you see your cat last? Where does she usually hide? Maybe I can help with you and see if we can find her.” It would at least be something good. “You cannot just leave and live as a hermit, your best friend would miss you and your cat would not be able to come back home. So lets find your cat first, okay?” And hopefully fix the situation with her best friend, if it was possible.

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：henri knight。⁰⁴ It doesn't matter, no, if he doesn't think she is a horrible person—it's as though Hufflepuffs are programmed to think the absolute best of everyone, they could probably write Voldemort himself out to be a noble savior. But Eleanora knows it, and being the singular person who knows herself best, she knows... she is not a person worth saving. "I..." She starts, but can't, wet hot tears springing to her eyes once more. God, her mother would think she looked pathetic. Conceal, everything in like a towel and use it to drench the ones you loath in your fury. But she can't, for she no longer holds fury, only hollow sadness. Sniffling, she scoots closer to him, leaning into him.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this," she says with a scoff, which almost resembles a dry laugh in her dark tone. "But I accidentally slept with my best friend's boyfriend. Well—not her boyfriend," she sighs. "They were just... talking. But I had gotten drunk at a party, and we.. we slept together and—and then, I missed my period and... I lied to her about who it was, but then I wasn't pregnant and I—I told her that who I really slept with, and—" She finds herself ranting, speaking without pause except for the few times that she stops to sniff and hiccup with leftover cries. "And now she hates me," is the last thing she says before she buries her face in her hands.

"And..." Eleanora takes a deep breath. "My mom died. I lost my cat, and I haven't seen her in weeks. I'm on the verge of just giving up," she says slowly, dark eyes peering out at the world, the obsidian firmament which has been painted in darkness. "Just leaving, and going to live as a hermit," she says dryly.

@－ ❛ s ❜：eleanora hwang。⁰³ [That is super fine! Always take as much time as you want, okay?]

Just watching her wipe her tears of looks painful. Henri can see that there was something brooding inside her, wanting to break out, get out of her chest and just spill all over the astronomy tower. He had never been exceptionally good with his own feelings, however he could recognise when something was eating someone up alive. And there seemed to be something inside Eleanora that was slowly swallowing her, dragging her into a void of darkness and pain – otherwise she would not be here, crying her eyes out in the safety of the darkness.

“I do not think you are a horrible person and I will not think you are horrible even if I know what you did,” Henri said, shaking his head. It was true. He knew people had an unexplainable darkness inside them, some at least had, but that did not mean they were horrible. He himself had caused quite some harm on people in earlier years but he had changed ever since. Just because he had once been bad did not mean he still was. “You are here, despairing over it, so no, you are not horrible.”

For a long moment he hesitated before he held his arms out, offering a hug if she wanted one or at least a hand to hold. “You can talk to me. Whatever you tell me will be safe and sound with me and maybe I can give some advice or some words that might be of help?” He was not the best in listening to people or giving solutions but he wanted to help and support her, wanted to ease her pain. “I with talking, you know? With voicing my emotions. So I know it is hard to speak. But if you want to, I promise you I will listen.”

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：henri knight。⁰⁴ [] hi there, sorry for the late reply! been caught up with school but i hope this will suffice ;;

Her inner thoughts are still repeated in her mind, demanding such an onerous task of the young woman to quell her tears. Immediately the demoiselle lifts her sleeve to wipe at the tears gathering on her cheeks, a sniff leaving her in replacement of another uncontrolled sob. She had, of course, heard of Henri Knight, a friendly and gregarious Hufflepuff with perhaps more positivity in his pinky finger than Eleanora could nurse in her entire body. His voice is gentle, soothing, and though Eleanora would hate to admit it to anyone, she found comfort in the fact that he was not laughing at her nor belittling her for her uncharacteristic breakdown.

Her mother would have. But her mother is not here anymore.

A friend, he calls himself. She could almost scoff at the idea—it was clear that, in light of recent events, friendship and Eleanora Hwang did not brew together to produce an exceptional potion. Wiping her cheeks once again and brushing her blonde tendrils from where they currently curtain over her eyes, she looks to him. He looks so kind, not a hint of malice in his eyes that she almost wants to let her guard down. Perhaps she can be selfish for once.

"Nothing is going right," she manages to say between quiet exhales, slowed now after she has managed to catch her breath following her clamorous sobbing. "I... I've messed up everything in my life." With this she bites down onto the sleeve of her knit sweater, urging herself not to cry once more. She has not been able to express herself verbally for years, and she did not want to burden him. "You'd think I was a horrible person if I told you," she scoffs.

@－ ❛ s ❜：eleanora hwang。⁰³ It was such a painful sight and Henri wished he could do more, however he did not dare to overstep in fear he might trigger something wrose than that. He did remember her name, he had seen her around and he heard the ghosts whisper all the rumours at night. Hwang Eleanora, a beautiful young promising student for sure, but there was more and Henri knew a lot, however he was pushing those things away as he was very well aware that most of those were rumours and none of them might be true.

"You are not," he said, voice gentle as he kept kneeling next to her, his arm on her shoulder in a careful, supporting touch. "You are not okay and you do not have to be. Let it out. I'll make sure you will be safe here." He had hurried to close the doors of the astronomy tower with a swift move of his wand to keep more people from entering. Sometimes a mental break down was all it needed to get better - and sometimes a good friend that would not question was good as well.

"Whatever happens here stays between us. I know you probably don't know me but I'm a friend," Henri promised to calm her, wanting her to feel safe and let out whatever was eating her up inside. No one just had such a strong break down out of the blue and he felt so very sorry for her that it had happened. But now all he could offer was being here and his shoulder.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：silas ciarán。⁰⁴ "maybe you can have fifty-five percent responsibility too?" she teased, blink as innocent as ever as she tilted her head upwards ever so slightly so their lips brushed with the ghost of a kiss, honeyed breaths melting together. aspen had always found a knack to be easy and relaxed whenever he was around- she didn't need to put up any false pretenses or any walls in his presence. he liked her for who she was, a mere simple girl who loved desserts and books and him. nothing made her happier than knowing that and she automatically melted further into his arm, shifting her body just enough so her arms could snake under his coat to hold his waist. the sigh of bliss that slipped past her lips was audible, the grin that tugged at the corners of serene. "it's alright, my love. i understand." she soothed further, beaming up at him- how did he stare at her like that? with something so irrevocable and undeniable in such expressive gaze that set apart his cold visage yet managed to stare into her soul? her heart skipped a beat in her chest, the swarm of butterflies back into her tummy to wreck havoc of dulcet affection. but she wasn't satisfied- the face she loved was still marred by the frown, still uneasy even with her touch. "what is it, silas?" she asked, albeit distractedly as she rose on her tiptoes, pressing her tiers to his brows to ease the worry. why didn't want to go away?! "i vow to take it to my grave. should i be very worried too?"

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：aspen beaumont。⁰³ You're you, and I like you.

It was simple, but he enjoyed the sound of it coming from Aspen. Even though at times he noticed how she struggled to express her genuine thoughts in the most grandiose of English phrases, her effortless words of affection were enough to enamor him. In love, everything was simple--even if he thought of it otherwise. "Alright, fine. I'll leave it at fifty percent responsibility because..." Silas lowered his head, face only centimeters away from hers as he held her gaze. "You're you, and I like you too." His straight face melted away with a gentle grin, and he booped the tip of their noses together, noticing how red hers had gotten. Maybe he should have chosen a warmer place for them to meet. But the astronomy tower held a special place in their relationship, something only the two of them knew about. "And.. I'm sorry for leaving you on read. It's very difficult to say 'no' to you, ceol mo chroÍ." Silas never really had much trouble saying 'no' to others. When he did, the majority of people would comply, afraid to push him further and risk witnessing his death glare. Out of the collection of little things that Silas hated the most, pushy people were one of them. But what Aspen was doing now, it didn't feel like she was prying to know what was on his mind. Instead, her question of concern felt like a warm blanket wrapping him away from the windy tower, like the state of serenity felt in one's chest after the first sip of hot tea on a cold morning. He leaned back, slightly, with hesitance and searched for any signs of malice in her eyes. But what was he expecting to find when she was everything pure and kind embodied in a small frame? This small frame that would never, could never account for the magnitude of her good heart. "Aspen," he finally spoke, voice almost a whisper. "I need to tell you something important, and you'll have to promise me that you won't speak of it to anyone else."

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：silas ciarán。⁰⁴ oh— well, maybe her crush on him wasnt as obvious as she thought it was. the redness in her cheeks intensified, this time out of embarrassment but still, aspen gave in. “yes, I liked you first. and no, you can have fifty percent responsibility because you’re you and I like you, you know?” perhaps she failed to explain this in English but words evaded her most times she was with him— he would just win arguments all the time! she sighed, gleefully taking in his scent from the proximity she was in; he always smelled nice and it was something purely his that she found a strange addiction to it. was she going crazy? “I got mad because you left me in read but then I saw you and I forgot about it.” she giggled, lifting her head from his chest so she could stare at his beautiful face— the one she adored yet was horribly covered by a frown. she knew him enough to know that he was trying to mask his concerns with her but he also knew she wouldn’t have it— she’d sworn to share his worries and sorrows and joys alike so she would make do. “I missed you too, my love. She’s doing fine, she went to sleep when I left so I think she’s okay. Now will you tell me why you’re frowny?” she finished soothingly, raising her hand to his brows, poking the area where his thick brows met in said frown in an attempt to rid it away.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：aspen beaumont。⁰³ By punctuating her vexed front with a kiss to his lips, the uneasy feeling in his chest began to subside, and he held onto her more securely, more surely. Having her close to him like this soothed him, and he could finally breathe again. All the worries that plagued the world dwindled down to nothing when he held the entire world inside of his arms, and she peered up at him with that serene, rapturous look in her earthy gaze. Silas couldn't help but to laugh again, this amusement filled with sincerity more so than the troubled one he gave her just moments ago. "You liked me first? I didn't know that. Even so, it still supports my argument about my innocence in this whole phenomenon," he stated in a matter-of-factly tone, one brow cocking up at her before she went and hid her face inside the warmth that his chest provided. His lips brushed against her temple to deliver a ginger kiss, and he found himself snuggling closer to her to shelter from the cold breeze. "Not even the slightest? Then what was that sudden tantrum?" Remembering his reason, he took in a deep inhale and within those few small seconds, decided that it would be best not tell her. It would be far too dangerous, even if she was his one last ray of hope, a breath of relief in a sphere running low on oxygen. "Yes, I'm alright. I just missed you, that's all. How was helping Autumn settle in? Is she doing okay? Not too homesick yet, I hope."

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：henri knight。⁰⁴ It should scare her—the amount of pain the young woman is able to suppress, swallowing them down like the most disgusting food in the Great Hall until she chokes on her emotions. She had never been overly emotional, choosing not to worry others nor herself with the painful onslaught of such an outburst. Nor did she ever want to burden anyone with having to console her. She was good at keeping a straight expression in the face of fear; her father had been a Death Eater, after all.

Perhaps she inherited that and her black heart from him.

Her body racks with sobs as she cries. She cries with every muscle in her body, holding her knees to her chest while quiet lamenting weeps leave her rose-stained lips. She cries the pain from her veins and the oxygen from her lungs. In fact, her shushed sobs are so resonant in her own ears that she barely recognizes the foreign voice of another in her ear. But she does, her red-rimmed eyes widening in shock at the appearance of an unfamiliar face.

Immediately, as she was taught, the Slytherin demoiselle turns away from him. She need not show her weakness, her pain. “I’m fine,” she manages to cough out, taking deep breaths to prevent herself from hiccuping in her cries. Swallow it, she demands herself. Stop crying.

But she is not okay.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：silas ciarán。⁰⁴ noticing the anxious set of his brows, the nervous gait of his mouth, she leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss of reassurance on his lips. Had she gone too far in her jests? Her hands left his face, sneaking down to wrap themselves around his waist so she could easily get trapped into the cage of his arms— ah, cozy! “Hey, I didn’t do anything, other than like you first!” she whined, tilting her head up so she could properly gaze at his handsome face. the cold had begun to nip at her nose, reddening it similarly to that of a reindeer’s and she sniffled, face scrunching for a quick moment before relaxing into a permanent contortion to protect her nose from said cold. “No, I’m not upset! Please, I would not get upset over texts— wait, why did you want to meet here? Are you alright?”

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：aspen beaumont。⁰³ He took another step towards her, unsure yet still testing the waters. Most times, his observant eye served him well. The little changes in expression, the underlying truth he could decipher the second they faltered from their deceitful act. But at this very moment, he was blinded by a small surge of nervousness, especially as she made her way over to him with heaviness both in manner and air. What was it that he did to make her so.. so ferocious? The only people in his life that he had upset from time to time were his parents, and it was because he was quite stubborn in his ways. Apprehension burrowed itself into his thoughts, though his face still showed signs of discombobulation. "What?" he breathed, warm breath fogging from his lips, a weathered contrast to how she looked at him as if he had done something unforgivable. Silas became even more confuzzled, eyes widening in surprise when her hands suddenly seized him by the cheeks, her icy mien thawing in mere milliseconds with the ringing of her laughter. "O-oh—". Was he to repent? Or laugh? His utterance was a result of his flustered state, but he quickly smiled, brows contorting as a wavered laugh elucidated the strange position he found himself in. "I'm.. sorry?" he muttered, voice lilting in question. "Although-- I feel like I had no part in that. It's completely your doing, and I'm simply...existing." His arms slipped around her smaller waist, slowly at first then fully, completely enveloping her into his warmth. "Are you truly not upset at all though? But even if you are just the slightest, I'm glad you still came. I don't know what I would've done if you didn't."

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：silas ciarán。⁰⁴ the little tantrum behavior hung on a loose thread, her demeanor almost falling had it not been for the moment she caught herself— god, she truly couldn’t be so angry at him could she? clearing , she stepped into the snow, watching how her boots created dense footsteps on the otherwise pristine surface. it was that time of the year; right in the cusp where winter met spring, the air too cold but still kissing the tips of their noses in promises of warmer tomorrows. her act kept up as she stalked her way to him, meeting him halfway from where he stood. “No. but how dare you?” she growled, although it felt more like the purr of a tame kitten than anything. “How dare you, Monsieur Ciarán?” she asked again, staring into eyes that stared right into her soul. And it all fell then, her pretense, the scowl painted visage— she melted, cheeks flushed red like the scarf she wore. Her hands, covered by red mittens reached up to his face, cradling it tenderly. “How dare you make me like you this much?” she chuckled, her breath coming out in a huff of fog, honeyed by peaches and sugar and everything nice.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：aspen beaumont。⁰³ Her ascending footsteps up the staircase was the only sound that spliced the soft susurration of the wind; Silas heard it but didn't make a move to turn around to face her until she would appear at the top. By then, his previous thoughts had left the forefront of his mind in preparation for their conversation. He took a moment to drink in the awe-inducing scenery before him. Light snow blanketed the grounds and mountaintops. Soon it would be spring again and the forest would be rich with all that nature had to offer. Things that he would no longer step foot in...
The door opened, and he turned to greet her with his lips stretched into a smile. But that smile faded just as quickly as it came when he took note of the look on Aspen's face. "Oh...did something happen? Was it because I didn't tell you why I wanted to meet up here?" he questioned, brows knitting together to display his confusion. Most times, she was overjoyed to see him but this. This was different. He took a step closer towards her to in attempt to decrease the cold air between them. "Are you.. are you upset?"

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：silas ciarán。⁰⁴ oh yes, she was pouty about being left on read. and it showed in her elfish visage that was contorted into a midpoint of a frown and a moue, arched brows etched into one line and lower lip jutted out in pettiness as she maneuvered her way through the halls of the school. still, how could she leave him hanging— despite having half the mind for mischievous revenge of leaving him alone, she was too weak to not go in search for his arms, a bee attracted to the most dulcet pollen and warmed honey. Thankfully, it was late enough, the sun beginning to dip past the horizon in decadent hues of orange and purple and with classes dwindling down for the day, it was an easy trip. Her boots clacked over the concrete floor as she made her way up to the balcony of the astronomy tower, arms wrapped around herself in a tight clutch despite the thick jacket and wool scarf she’d worn to keep warm. Warm pools of chocolate quickly found his being the moment the door opened, silently admiring the sight that stood in front of her— he stood pensive, lost in his vastly wondrous mind she would gladly lose herself into too. “Just so you know, I’m not going to hug or kiss for now,” she called out haughtily, masking the little yet natural grin that rose at the corners of her lips and began walking towards him, pettily putting a few steps of a distance between them.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：aspen beaumont。⁰³ The caramelized winter sun was near gone from the vast sky, tucking its great ball of light behind the undulating horizon, burying itself into the moon's full embrace like lovers reuniting at the end of each and every day. Many compared the duality between the two celestial bodies to the positive and negatives of living, life and death, light and dark. 'Opposites attract', so it was often said. But similarities were what truly established stability, an everlasting tethered connection because of one thing two beings shared. One reason. One purpose. Perhaps that was what would blossom once more between the Ravenclaws who once coalesced that one evening on the cold floor of the Hogwarts kitchen. But there was no explicit goal in Silas having messaged her earlier, just hours before he found himself standing alone at the top of the seventh floor, the astronomy tower. In fact, he had something to tell her-- if he could find the courage to. Maybe it was better kept a secret. But it was nearly swallowing him whole, and Aspen was someone he had come to trust with every vein and valve of his reticent heart. Almost as much as his friends back at home. His tall silhouette stood near the railing, the open balcony overlooking the black lake. A pensive look plagued his current visage, face depleted of any true emotion but the minuscule crinkle between his brows was that subtle hint anyone could pick up on if they were to look with more than just their eyes. With him leaving her on read, would she still show?

@－ ❛ s ❜：eleanora hwang。⁰³ Sitting in the astronomy tower in the middle of the night was something Henri really enjoyed. He was having his notes open right in front of him just like his book, sighing slightly as he read them again. He knew most of it anyways but he was having exams soon and he was a little worried. He was always a little worried as his head was usually tucked up in the clouds, all caught up in the beauty of this world but that also meant he often missed valuable information. So here he was, trying to put this information back into his head but it seemed to keep falling out as instead of looking down onto his notes he stared up into the beautiful starry sky.

A soft sigh left Henri’s lips and he relaxed a bit, leaning backwards against a wall as he smiled warmly. He should have come here with a friend, definitely. It was always easier to study with friends but they were all busy and he did not want to bother them so he was now here, just doing it on his own. Looking back down onto his notes he started to read again when suddenly a new person came in. But they didn’t stop. Instead they kept running and for a long moment Henri just stared – where they crying? His eyes widened and he bit his lip, unsure what to do but a bad feeling came over him.

So he got up. He found her at the edge of the tower, kneeling and sobbing. And it broke Henri’s heart to find her like this, so desperate and broken. So he stayed quiet, letting her cry for a while and letting her get it out. Sometimes people needed an outlet and if that was helping, who was he to judge? It wasn’t like he never did anything like this. Eventually he held a box of tissues out and his thermos bottle with hot chocolate inside. “Maybe that helps?” he said, crouching down next to her, worry clear on his face.

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：henri knight。⁰⁴ Upon first look (or perhaps any further prodding as well) one may say that Eleanora, in the words of Hermione Granger herself, possesses the "emotional range of a teaspoon," but that is far from the truth. Having grown up an introverted Slytherin pureblood daughter, Eleanora has surely learned the skill of suppressing her emotions behind a demure and emotionless smile. Even in her adulthood, it has become commonplace for the young woman to bottle up her emotions, subduing them for as long as humanly possible. Any anger and resentment she has against her father? Hidden away. Stress or unhappiness from school? Just ignore its entire existence.

But all bottles have a definite volume, and the demoiselle can only hide her inner deliberations away for so long before they ultimately make themselves present at the surface. Typically when this happens, the Slytherin prefers to hide herself away for as long as she can until the tide passes, leaving her desolate and discarded in its wake. She will often search out the Room of Requirement if she can, but still there is nothing quite like the feeling of letting it all out atop the Astronomy Tower against the background of an obsidian sky. Tonight, she doesn't even walk the halls toward the Room of Requirement.

It's just become too much; school, friendships, familial burdens, all of it. Constantly being bested in classes by other students, fears of being forgotten by her own friends, searching for any signs and history of her father to no avail, it has all built up inside her over the past few weeks and she just... cannot take it any moment longer. Having never been one to expose her emotions to anyone, fearing perhaps emotional vulnerability, Eleanora stumbles her way up the lengthy staircases toward the Astronomy Tower. As she enters, she pays no attention to whether or not there are any other students present. After all, it is nearing eleven at night—surely no one will be awake at this time.

At the edge of the tower, the wind kissing her face, she falls to her knees, and sobs.

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ Tonight, Emerald couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t quite out of the ordinary for her, she never had the luxury of drifting off easily, never had the ability to welcome sleep when she needed it, but even the usual torture of her sleepless night felt different tonight. The hour was late, most certainly a few past curfew, and the castle of Hogwarts was completely silent when she had laid in bed, sheets rustling continuously as she moved to find comfort. It always took her a while, be she always found it eventually. Tonight, that comfort never came. It made sense; how could her body find solace in her dreams when her mind was haunted by the images that resurface at ungodly times? Memories, pictures that were less than vivid and appeared in blurs of color, had hankered at her, forbade her from drifting off for even a couple of hours. As if that night, these very images could not allow her to forget, forcing her to fret in her bed even though her body was exhausted. And it energized her, filled her with unwanted adrenaline that even her feet, tired as they were from traveling from class to class, were willing to take her from the very lowest points of the castle, past dozens of flights of stairs until she reached the highest point. She would have never thought of visiting this before, but maybe her body knew that there was something about the cool draft of air kissing her warm skin that felt less lonely and terrifying than lying awake in bed, no matter how warm it was in comparison to the breeze of the midnight sky.

Lonely. It was as if her body knew. 

Emerald never believed in fate. How could she, when she condemned fairy tales for the false hope they generate with their unreleastic concepts of love at first sight, true love’s kiss, and soulmates? Fate doesn’t exist. No one, not even the stars, as celestial and full of wonder they are, could not decide a person’s path in life. No one can decide when two people should meet, and if they were made for each other, like the hearts in their bodies were always incomplete, and there’s only one other person who held the other half. It didn’t make sense. In layman’s terms, it’s utter bull, and for nearly two decades of her life, Emerald firmly believed that. But how could someone explain this chance encounter, where two broken hearts have come across each other the way they did? She wouldn’t have normally left her room. She wasn’t a saint either, she was a prefect yet she was willing to break the rules she enforced, even though it’s by a little bit. But to walk out in the dead of night, from the lowest point to the highest point to the highest point in the castle, was bizarre, especially for her. It was too late, too far, the locations at different points that only the insane would dare to travel that far, and yet her legs, seemingly with the mind of their own, had taken her up here, in the cold, chilly room with no doors or windows, completely open to welcome the winter breeze.


Perhaps this encounter wasn’t generated by chance. Perhaps, with her open heart, she could accept that this was meant to be, that she was meant to find him at this hour. It couldn’t be a mere coincidence. The location, their broken hearts, and the hour that they found one another. She could have easily missed him, she thought, arrived at this tower even a minute after he left, and they wouldn’t have crossed paths. And yet, here she was, looking into those eyes, and she knew that somehow, she was meant to find warmth in him, by his side, in the arms that had silently promised to protect the vulnerable her that allowed herself to show the true, unfiltered girl. It’s funny, how she came here with very little on her body to keep her protected against the belligerent weather, while he was wrapped in layers of layers of clothing. He had given her his coat, and somehow, it felt like he was meant to give it to her; to protect her. At the same time, the song became clear now, prominent in her mind, as if it embedded itself in her memories like it was meant to be there all this time. As though the song her wrote, that she now knew, looking into that mind of his, was hers, was meant to be composed by him, made for her to listen to so that she could fall for him the way she did that day he played it for her. As he spoke those words, the two words that have laid claim on her heart after she had given hers to him willingly, she knew that she was his for days. Maybe weeks, even. It was only today that she knew, standing in his arms underneath the moon and stars, gazing into his eyes that he had captured her for his own before she had realized it herself.

Tonight was no coincidence, it couldn’t be. If fate existed, then it truly worked in strange and mysterious ways. And she couldn’t question it now. If fate was real, it brought her to him, and there was nothing she could complain about. She had cried, shed herself free of the pain she burdened alone, and let him see it. Maybe it was meant to be. But this wasn’t love, not just yet, she knew that full well. But right now, it felt right, and at that moment, as she looked into those eyes, she was already falling.

“I know,” she whispered with a tearful smile, reassuring as she dove deep into the recesses of his mind when he gave her permission to. This alone made her heart swell with joy, just as her smile did. “Not all of it, though. You can tell me when you feel comfortable. That’s not for me to… well. You know.” She sighed, squeezing his hand in her own. “Either way, none of that matters to me. I have you — the you that I have seen past all those layers of smiles — and I adore what I’m seeing. So there’s no need to try, Kaladin. No need at all. But I'll try for you, too. I always will, from here on out." There was a bitter chuckle that sounded after her body shivered with the gust of wind that passed them, and she rolled her eyes, a playful display in comparison to the genuine smile curled upon her rose-tinted lips. She could only hope he would forgive her for the words that would follow: "Now, as much as I want to stay with you, it's ing freezing. So can we...?"

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ Her words were like shooting stars across the background of a midnight sky, like specks of violet and the softest gold in a world of gray. There had always been color in his life, yet dull and meaningless. But having her in his arms, looking at him with her eyes shining with tears that were like crystal shards in his mind, was as if he was touching magic in its purest form. Kaladin couldn't help but laugh at her words, the sound broken and quiet and filled with adoration as he brushed the tears on her cheeks away with his sleeve, slowly letting her back down to the floor, nose nudging against hers as he asked: "Will you please stop crying, princess?"
Despite his words he kept dabbing at her cheeks with his sleeve, fingers tracing the faint red marks her bitter tears of hurt and sheer self loathing had left behind on her smooth, subtle skin, pale against the tan of his fingers as he let them paint over each tear track, almost as if he was longing to erase them from her complexion with his touch.

"You're mine", he repeats her words in nothing but a whisper, the melody the words paint into his mind brilliant and sounding like silver bells, like the warmth of a Christmas morning spent at home and Kaladin was craving, suddenly. He craved all the things he hated, had feared and even run away from - all the pain affection could bring, all the laughter, the lazy Sunday mornings in bed together he had indeed spent with a warm body by his side before, yet only ever for their sake and never his own. Emerald would make him a greedy man, a drowning man barely holding on. And now he was drowning in the vision that was her - no, the vision that was her song in his mind. They needed to let go, eventually, Kaladin knew. The tower was freezing at his time of the night, the wind howling relentlessly and if they would spent even more time up here, he was sure that one of them would come down with a cold, if the lack of sleep they would both be suffering tomorrow wasn't already bad enough.
And yet he didn't let go, searching her eyes and holding them with his own, as if he could reach out and touch her mind like she was able to do with his. "And for the first time I want to be someone else's too", he told her, ceasing his movements of his hand against her face to tuck her hair behind her ear before flipping up the collar of his own coat she was still wearing, shielding her neck from the icy wind that was picking up vigor with each minute passing, a shiver racing down his back despite the heat that lingered in his chest. "I think I've been yours before I wanted."

It was true, really, that his heart head been caught on fire before his mind had been able to catch up, a galloping horse without saddle and reins, with him chasing after it to get a hold on reality and the fluttering of his own heart whenever he smiled down at a text message from her, no matter how long it had taken her to reply, or how taciturn she was with him. "For longer than I know, perhaps", he confesses before he bends and kisses her fleetingly, almost as if he didn't have any other choice. This was not love - not yet. Not when it was nothing but a blossoming flower, colorful in the white of winter, just the inkling of an idea between them yet and still Kaladin knew that he had fallen for her days ago. It was so obvious to him now, all the times she had made him smile with a single word, how he had longed for her voice and touch when exams had brought him to the brink of insanity. How had he been able to crave her as much as he did, with only the memory of a drunken kiss shared between them? Was it not falling in love? This was a fragile thing, that floating crystal rose, tender to the touch and so easily shattered it scared him.

"I want to try my best for you, Emerald", Kaladin said as she straightened where he stood, reaching up to gently untangle her arms from around his neck, bringing them apart and still not letting go, fingers finding hers and squeezing lovingly. "You know what people say about me, though... don't you? What I..." A pause, an exhaled laughter as he rolls his eyes at himself, lifting their joined hands to tap against his temple with her knuckle, words failing him once again at the sheer ethereal beauty in front of him, the moon reflecting off her skin as if she were made of ice and silver and copper, a precious thing to hold he truly wasn't worthy to even lay eyes on with something else in his gaze than wonder and desire.

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ Emerald didn’t believe in fairytales. She didn’t believe in prince charmings, nor knights in shining armor. She didn’t believe in love at first sight. She didn’t believe in soulmates. She didn’t believe in true love’s kiss. She didn’t believe in all that was written in books about finding true love, because to her, true love doesn’t exist. She did, once, when she was a little girl. But everyone had to grow up at some point, didn’t they? One could argue that she grew up too soon, too young. Had been stripped off her youth before she could live it. At age six, the childish light in Emerald De Lisle’s eyes dimmed. In a time where joy filled the halls of every household, and the streets of every town, little Emerald found herself losing interest in the things she loved the most. Because she had seen that all love and joy did not reach her parent’s eyes when they looked at each other, and no warmth was in their embrace. What she thought was a fairytale story, with her kind, sweet mother as the princess and her brave father as the prince, had become an illusion that she only saw in clarity when she saw them fight in her father’s office. But what they fought about weren’t because they loved each other, as her mother used to assure her, but because they have lost all love that little Emerald thought they had. And Emerald, too, had lost love. She lost love for the fairytales she read or watched on the television. She lost love for her princess dresses and the imaginary prince that was supposed to rescue her. She lost love for the idea of true love, because how could she believe in it, when the two people she looked up to did not love one another?

Thus, she never saw herself as the damsel in distress that needed saving. Even with the lies, the deceit that embittered her once optimistic heart, she didn’t need someone to come along and be the knight in shining armor that she used to look for. It was all childish fantasy. Idealistic. To dwell on fairytales meant seeing the world through rose-colored glasses, a form of ignorance that she would never commit herself to. Doing so was just asking to be let down, and Emerald had been let down too young, one too many times. So she saw the world as it is: a dark, desolate place, even if it’s teeming with people who decorated it with bright colors. Smoke and mirrors. That’s all it is.

Oh, how foolish was she to believe that the world was nothing but a gloomy place hidden underneath a mask of peace and bliss. Perhaps she hadn’t grown up after all. Perhaps it was her who saw the world not for what it is, but for what she wanted it to be: a dark, bitter place, filled with the despair of lost love before they could even begin. Emerald De Lisle had become the monster she was afraid she’d turn into. When she was a little kid, she hated Ebenezer Scrooge for being a bitter old man while the rest of the world around him was colored with joy. How ironic it must be, to find out that she had become just like him, who saw only the shadows in the world and stayed in it, but never came out to the light to see all that is good. She didn’t realize how much her parents’ fall from love plagued her heart. She didn’t realize how bitter it made her, how much she let it strip her world of color when she was but a little girl. Children were supposed to see the world in brighter colors than adults, and yet, she had seen it in dull hues. A child should be seeing yellows, blues, and reds, and yet she saw brown, grey, and maroon.

She didn’t know how long color had been gone from her life until Kaladin kissed her, and the world has become brighter than she had ever seen it before. As if she had been dwelling in a dark room all her life, and Kaladin had switched on the light that she couldn’t find. Perhaps fairytales did exist in the real world. But it didn’t have prince charmings nor knights in shining armor, she knew that now. As Kaladin held her in his arms, she knew that she didn’t need someone to save her. She just needed someone to show light and color in her life, and that the world is not as desolate as it seems. The world isn’t filled with hatred, and there’s always hope everywhere — so long as they know where to look. And Emerald, who looked upon those beautiful brown eyes with the tinge of green and gold in pools of dark honey, she knew that she was looking exactly where she needed to, perhaps for the first time in her life. And she would be an idiot if she ever looked away again. “I’m yours, Kaladin,” she breathed through tears filled with hope and genuine joy. “All yours.”

[post deleted by owner]

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ As a child, sitting on the hideous green carpet his mother loved so much and listening to the fairy tales his father read to Kaladin and his sister just before bed, his eyes had always been filled with wonder. He had followed every single word falling from his father's lips, enraptured by the tales of stolen princesses and knights in shining armor, holding his sister close to him as she was slowly drifting off into a land of peaceful dreams, while he himself was too engrossed in the story to even think about sleeping. Those old stories, as dark as some of them were, had a light shining in his eyes, his mouth open in awe, little hands curling on his knees in apprehension, even though he knew the ending to each of those fairy tales by heart. "I'm going to be a knight, mum", he told his mother one night when she was pulling his blanket over his legs, covering his Spiderman pajamas for a canvas of dark blue, dotted with the moon and all the starts in the universe. She had laughed at him, kissing the top of his head, a hand smoothing down his unruly locks as she smiled down at him. "Sure you will", she had said, booping him on the nose with one gentle finger. "But for now? You're a little rascal who needs sleep."

For years, Kaladin had wanted nothing more than to be the knight of all those stories his father read to him, to be a prince who would one day rescue a damsel in distress from a tower, only for her to be his forever. And as the years had gone by, he had slowly come to realize that he was no knight in shining armor. No, the boy who had been sitting on the green carpet with his baby sister in his arms, had grown into the monster of all those tales. He had become the beast, sitting in an enchanted castle of broken things and dusty memories, slowly turning to stone. He was the spiteful king, the arrogant prince turned into a frog. Kaladin had become arrogant, tangled in the webs of his own arrogance and the compliments of other people, had grown superficial and numb to every other sensation than momentary need. And for a long time he had been seeking that kiss all these stories talked about, had tried to wrestle himself free of those ropes that he had tied so tightly around himself, only for them to grow rigid, turning into the noose that was wrapping around his throat more and more as the days turned into months and then, eventually, years. The petals of his rose were falling and no matter how many beautiful girls Kaladin held, they fell quicker with every kiss that made him feel nothing.

But now, suddenly, he understood the meaning behind all of these words - behind every detail his father had painted into his young, innocent mind - standing on top of the tower with Emerald in his arms. It didn't take an innocent, pretty, lively girl to break whatever curse had taken hold of him when he had been nothing but a reckless teenager. It didn't take a fairy godmother to cut his leash. Perhaps it had always been her, to him - the one who would truly see him and not shy away from his darkness, someone to reach out to him and answer in kind, their own curses on display for him to see. A kindred soul, a broken heart that was still beating in tandem with his. And kissing Emerald was truly like breaking the curse in all those sappy movies Scarlet had loved watching when she got older, making him watch with her as he bemoaned his fate of being a doting older brother. Because kissing her like this, with her arms around his neck, was as if she had breathed all the color back into his world, turning everything a brilliant shade of gold and reds and soft pinks in his mind. She felt tiny in his arms, even with her arms around him so tightly and it shouldn't have felt as right as it did, right then and there, to embrace her and pull her up against him, her feet lifting off the floor even while he still kept his lips on hers, so tenderly and devoted it scared him. When they finally broke apart he longed for her lips that very second, would luckily spend the rest his days just kissing her like this and yet he couldn't. He couldn't, because his mind was racing and his chest was aching, the heart that had been barely beating behind his bruised ribs thunderin like a storm in the distance. Kaladin's eyes were alight with fire as he opened them, burning with emotions he had never allowed himself to feel despite craving them so deeply, one arm tight around her middle to keep her off the ground and against his body, the other hand lifting to brush his fingers over her hair as he had done before, the touch nothing more than the wind whispering into her silken locks. "Are you mine, Emerald?", he breathed into the space between them, voice as raw as he had rarely ever heard himself sound, gaze filled with uncertainty. "Or am I yours?"

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ “Kaladin,” was a whisper spoken in sadness, like the ripples of waves that could not reach the shore. Lost in a sea of their combined despondency, that sunk beneath the thrashing tides. As he looked at her, she felt her heart crack once more. But it wasn’t because she felt remorse in breaking his heart, or because hers had already broken too much to the point of no return, but because he had opened her up completely. Ripped her open and torn her to shreds with only his lingering gaze. Because even though she was the one who possessed the gift of reading his beautiful mind, he had seen her more clearly than she has when she looked at the girl in the mirror. As though he had always been the on the other side of the two-part mirror, on the side of the glass where she could not see him. Staring at her, studying her, seeing every bit of her that let her guard down, even just for a brief moment. He saw her, she knew. He saw all the pain and anguish that found refuge in her chest and tainted her soul. What was once innocent was now imperfect, embittered only by her own doing.

Emerald was not a good person, and she knew it well. For years, she had been hell-bent on keeping people at the surface, keeping them a distance away. At first, it was fear that they would find out the truth and see her as a freak. Crazy, as they called many before her who possessed the same gift. They weren’t wrong. Reading people’s minds would drive one to insanity eventually, and with what she had seen in people’s heads, she was surprised that she hadn’t gone mad. So she learned to turn it off. To not only shut out people’s minds, but also her heart, so that she may suffer no contrition whenever someone pricked their fingers when they came close just to admire the petals of her beauty. Guilt takes the form of a demon that tears at a person’s flesh, piece by piece. Eating them from the inside, consuming them whole until they have become nothing of the person they were before. It was terrifying; if there was anything she truly didn’t deserve, it was that. No one did. Living a life in guilt isn’t living at all. Tuning herself out from people’s thoughts—especially those she held dear—was the only way she could keep from losing herself. But she did anyway, didn’t she? Because she allowed no love, no affection, not even worry from those around her. Because she decided that being hated was much easier than being loved.

Emerald had given him countless reasons to hate her. She had pricked him with her thorns and bled him dry, stabbed him where it hurt the most. Before, she felt no guilt in her words, her insults ceaseless, expecting him, who hid his agony behind a smile, to take it with jest. As if words never held any meaning. Sticks and bones may break bones, but words…words always hurt the most, didn’t they? She was insensitive. Ignorant. Heartless. For she was too caught up in her own self-interest, blinded by her self-preservation to see that she was hurting others, hurting him, who had done absolutely nothing wrong to her. Who had proferred his concern to her several times, given her his shoulder to lean on and sing her lullabies to ease her unsettling heart. Looking at those eyes, tinged with green, the color of tranquility and the wealth of goodness that lie in his heart, she knew she did not deserve the kindness his smile gave her. She did not deserve the words that left his lips like promises thrown out into the wind, in wisps of color that stood out against the dark background of the midnight sky.

As he held her in the palm of his hands, she felt delicate. She never felt delicate like this before. She had never been held like this before. It was as if she was discovering something new for the first time, and he was the one to show it to her. To show her him, the most beautiful thing she had seen in all these months. Years, even. His hands were gentle around her visage, cradling her with a gentleness that it was almost like the touch of a feather. And his thumbs, which had clemency in its , were light like the wind. She had permitted herself to breathe for the first time, drawing in fresh air that was not touched by fears and anxiety that had dampened the air around them, but only by the kisses of his affection, the doting adoration his heart spoke like endless melodies to her. She didn’t need to look into his eyes to know that he was telling her the truth, that he wasn’t just simply kissing her out of pity because he saw her cry. For the first time, she allowed herself to believe that she too, at least, deserved one good thing in her life. She didn’t want to run away from it any longer. She didn’t want to cower behind the thorned vines that kept her safe from harm’s way. If Kaladin hadn’t burned him down him himself, she would have let them down willingly, and let him take her heart unchallenged. Not that he had any difficulty getting it, anyway. For he had stolen it from underneath her nose, and she was the blind idiot who was unable to catch him.

At once, her tears had stopped falling, and had all but disappeared from where they rolled down her cheeks, and left a faint mark in their stead. Marks that have signified her fragile heart, when all this time she tried to be strong. But he had seen her for who she was, and saw that she was anything but. She was just a weak girl hidden beneath the guise of a woman who held hatred for the world, who had denied herself of the support she desperately needed. While he was a tree in the middle of a field of reed grass, who, not only provided her protection from the burning sun, but had held her up when she was about to fall. And he had done it countless times without knowing it. In the days that she held no hope in her heart, the countless messages and phone calls were enough to pull her out of the abyss before she could fall into it. He had brightened her days, she was ashamed to admit it before, but even the shortest phone calls were enough to provide distraction when she was on the brink of letting herself dive deep into the black hole of her thoughts. And she had thanked him with the smile that adorned her lips, and the little light that shone in her dark eyes.

Just as he feared that he would unravel if she had let go, she too had dreaded the moment he parted from her. The moment her skin would feel cold when he released her from his embrace. She needed him, she knew that now, and though she would like to believe that she didn’t need someone to lean on, she never realized that he had been her anchor this entire time, keeping her grounded when she would otherwise be swept away by waves larger than her. It was him. It has always been him. And she’d be a fool to push this one away, to leave it in the dust, when it was the most incredible thing that she found. He was a diamond in the rough, and she was the lucky one to find it. In that moment, when he had finished talking, and filled up his own silence by capturing her lips with his saccharine pair, she made the decision in that moment, to cherish this. To cherish him. Let her heart open. Let her heart know fondness. Let her heart welcome the person who had captured his lips in hers, so that she may know rapture for the first time. So she kissed him with all that she could give, pouring out not only her heart, but her mind too, for she wanted him to know that she was willing to be the harmony to his song, if he’d let her. Her arms had lifted to curl around his neck, to embrace him and pull him into her.

Because in this cold night, only he could keep her warm.

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ Holding someone meant walking a thin line of pleasure and danger, Kaladin knew. He was aware of the hurt that flickered across his face when Emerald slipped from his graps, his hand falling limply from her grip and to his side, suddenly cold with the bite of frost that seemed to travel up his arm as he sought for her gaze, confusion written on his features when he saw her reaching for him, the sudden need to step away from her bubbling up in his chest like a pot of boiling milk. And yet he remained, quiet and still as the castle around them, caught in the vines of her soul. He had gotten tangled a long time ago, he realized, bracing himself for the impact of what she'd say next.
Her apology could only mean one thing to him - that she had looked into his mind and found the song of his heart, mounting with the percussion of the restless drum it had made of his ribs. Looking into his eyes, had she seen the way he had ached for her before he had even been aware of it, his mind playing tricks on him, completely out of his control, when he had first written that wondrous, horrible song for her, tearing into his mind as if he had gotten caught in the thorns that had been buried in his skin for days, only then ripping him open as he moved. But he had moved, god knew, despite the hurt, pushing onward to suffocate the infernal desire she had awoken inside him.
At fist he he had thought that he could quench that longing with the exchange of passion that had entangled them in her bed earlier, only for him to realize that, in fact, it had only served to pour gasoline into his throat, Emerald holding a match that she was now ready to set ablaze.

The touch of her fingers against his face had his eyelids fluttering, his head tilting every so slightly as if to chase the touch even while he couldn't rip himself away from her - from the way she looked at him, how wet her eyes were, how pink her lips as if his kisses lingered even now, hours later. He had let countless people touch him, had touched them in return, had shared his heat and desire, but never his fears. Truth be told, he didn't even mind as much as he thought he would, the fact that there were no secrets between them suddenly, that she had broken into the walls that were guarding his heart and mind and soul, dragging him out into the open just the way he was. A terribly, arrogant man who only longed for the pain to subside, somehow, seeking refuge in people's beds, if only to quiet the hateful voices screaming at him inside his head. His demons were out in the open now, he was sure of it and yet they all fell silent at the sight of the tears that started falling down her cheeks. Kaladin had tried, so many times he couldn't even count anymore, to fall for someone - had longed for it, hoping it would make him a better man than he truly was. And he had failed - them, him - doubting that he would ever be capable of looking at someone and know that, indeed, they were not perfect but he didn't mind.

Because Emerald de Lisle, despite her flaws and cold demeanor had not been aware of it, had not been affected by his attitude and the countless words of sweet nothings he had thrown at her for every insult she had shot at him, was nothing Kaladin had ever thought he'd desire. Yet here they were, his cheeks between her hands and her gaze on him in what felt as if she was looking right through him, only to end up truly seeing him. For all the times he had broken hearts without a care in the world, his own now felt as if it were being ripped to shreds. Because now, in the most unlikely place on earth, he witnessed what he had longed to uncover for days now and he was breaking with it. The sight of her tears floored him, as if he had been walking down a flight of stairs too quickly, missing a step and nearly tumbling, barely catching himself enough to register the words that she spoke into the quiet between them, her question left unanswered as he was in speechless awe at what he had found now.
This was her, unguarded, vulnerable, crying. And yet here she stood, just shy outside of his grasp, comforting him. What a way to fall for someone and be let down at the same time, he thought with a wry little smile, only for it to disappear the longer she spoke, the hurt stinging in his eyes dimming as if someone was turning down the lights inside his mind and he wondered if she saw it. Was she able to see the way his mind screeched to a stop, in bewilderment and confusion, his lips falling open only to in an icy breath and close again, eyes flickering back and forth between her own so quickly it left him dizzy.

He was in too deep already, he realized as he smiled despite himself, eyes wandering over her face. His feet hadn't touched the bottom of the ocean that was his mind in a long time, floating helplessly towards her, the hold he had tried to keep on his lifeline long severed and a part of him suspected that he had let go all too willingly.
The heart wanted what it wanted and this, right here, was everything he could have ever asked for. No, it was her, all of her. All her anger, all her edges and scars and hurtful words, all her tears and sadness, all her smiles. A lonely star that had found its twin, beneath the moon. And god, she was breathtaking despite the tears on her cheeks - or perhaps even more so, now that he had laid eyes on them.

The moment she let go he mourned the loss, grasping her fingers between his only for him to let go of them and shaking off her hold a mere second after she had placed such a tender kiss against his knuckles.
"No", he said then, surprised by the sudden steadiness of his voice, the hand she had brought up to her lips slipping onto the side of her neck, thumb pressed tenderly against her jaw. "No, Emerald, I will not kiss you."
Kaladin knew that his words were cruel, spoken almost carelessly and sounding almost amused, when every cell in his body betrayed him, longing for her lips as if it were the ambrosia of legends and song, the staccato of his heart surely audible to her with how long it was in his own. "Now", he whispered, bringing up his other hand to brush away a lock of her hair that was sticking to her temple, her tears like droplets of frozen light as he caught them with the back of his finger, brushing them away right underneath her eye, cupping her cheek right after so she couldn't break away from his imploring gaze as he asked: "Will you shut up and let me speak?"
The laugh that was vibrated in his voice was like a chord on the keys of his piano, blurring together with the sorrow that was clogging up his throat at the realization that it was him that had made her cry. This was it, the moment that would make them, or break them. Sure that she'd stay mum, his thumb caught yet another tear that rolled down over the redness of her cheek, eyes following the motion of his finger, before he leaned forward and placed a kiss into the corner of her left eye, whispering: "For someone who's able to read my mind..."

Still holding her face between his hands as if she were made out of glass, ready to shatter any second in his graps, he turned it just so he could press his lips against her other temple. "For someone so smart..."
Bringing their foreheads together felt as if he was opening his mind to hers, fingers tenderly brushing over her hair when his hand slipped from her neck and into her nape, their lips apart by nothing more than the width of a feather, breaths mingling as he caught his thoughts, letting his eyes close when he finally said:
"You're devastatingly stupid, Emerald de Lisle. Because no matter how sharp your claws were, no matter what you threw my way, I stayed, didn't I? I kept on walking and I didn't know why. But, god, I don't regret a single thing. Not a single step I took in your direction, pushing. Because every little thing that I discovered, every shiny tidbit of information and knowledge I gained was more beautiful than the one before. I don't deserve any of those things you said, you know?" He paused, pressing his lips into the corner of so poignant, it nearly broke his own heart. "Because I can't see what you see and yet you can't see what I'm looking at right now either. And I don't deserve to judge you, or the right to forgive you because you could break me twice and I wouldn't mind. That's unfair to you, Emerald. It's unfair that I want all of that and I've never wanted it before. It's unfair that I can't stop thinking of you, that you are in my head whenever I play the piano. And it's not fair to me either, because you could destroy me with that. But I don't give a anymore."

With that he brought their lips together and despite the heat in his words, despite the way he was holding her now, stepping back against her body as he kissed her, he did nothing but place his mouth against hers in a surge of mounting affection. And perhaps it was the first time he ever did.

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ When the heart speaks, the mind finds it indecent to object. Milan Kundera always had an obsession with the aesthetic to portray the heart’s desires, focusing solely on the filigree in imagery rather than the intrigue of his stories. They’re beautiful, really, and Emerald, whose soul is embedded within the prose of countless books and intricate stanzas of poetries she memorized by heart, always found herself stuck on that very thing: the union between mind and heart. Perhaps it was because she learned to keep them separate over the course of years, chose to listen to her mind more often than the command of the fragile piece in her bosom. To subdue the aching in her chest, the cry of agony, to ignore the anguish that would paralyze her if she let it take over. Because her emotions, over the course of years, have been neglected not only by her, but by others she pushed past arm’s length. Kept them at a distance, because there was a part of her that knew that if they took a single step forward, they could see all that was her, past the lies and deceit. The untruth of her image, the picture-perfect example of the daughter she pretended to be. It was the corruption of a wilting rose that could be seen through thin glass, clear and frosted over only by a thin layer of ice, easily melted if one were to breathe onto it. Because although they viewed her stance as strong and unfaltering, the barrier she took years to protect herself with could easily be knocked down, if one had ever come close enough to try.

She had done whatever it took, really. She would be damned if she let anyone come even a foot close to her. If she ever did, however, it was for the comfort of senseless kisses, the warmth of an embrace that would soon be forgotten the next morning. It was better that way, she thought. It protected her. Since her heart had become a secret garden, and the walls of thorned vines were high. Briars that twisted and turned, strong as they wound into each other, until they have become thickets of green that disallowed all but little light to come through, darkness filling the center with the shadows of her ceaseless unrest. She was sure by then that she didn’t need to fear the inevitable destruction of her heart. Not when the walls rose so high that she herself could not see over them. And they were sharp, so that if anyone had dared to come close, they would be pricked with the thorns of her imposed cruelty before they could attempt to make it through. To her, it was impossible for her heart to break, or for that heart to break another’s. Because just as these vines kept all others out, it too, caged her in. Kept her heart from connecting with even the people she held close. By then, it only beat for her—it may as well only have to beat for her for the rest of time. It was better that way, she thought. But Kaladin, unbeknownst to her, came like a burning fire, ravaging the forest built to protect, to keep out even the demons of iniquity, and disintegrating what was left to protect her with a blazing inferno. Oh, how her mind worked to protect her, to keep her upright when those walls had fallen and she had nothing else to lean onto. But he had also pulled the carpet of comfort and composure from underneath her feet, and she had hit the ground with a dizzying thud.

Only when she had mustered up enough strength to hoist herself off the floor with the railing beside her did he once again come towards her, this time with the force of a gale, wind stinging her eyes that had already threatened to water. No, tears shouldn’t fall. Not now. Not when she already looked so weak. But how could she keep it in? How could she feign vigor when his eyes spoke betrayal? When his hand was itching to part from her own, because he believed that she had been the mistress of deceit this entire time? Surely, he saw her as a succubus, a demon who had seduced him so that he was drawn to her, and she may render him helpless with a single kiss. Kept him wrapped around her little finger, to later destroy him, just as she was at this very moment. Oh, if only he could see her anguish-riddled soul to uncover her truth.

He had been nothing but good to her; an angel assigned to watch over her. And though she didn’t believe she deserved one, she was, truly, grateful. For he had offered her more than a shoulder to lean on, or words of simple consolation that she could have received from any other person. What he had given her was unwavering attention, offering comfort even at the expense of his peaceful rest, even if he had known nothing of what troubled her each night. It seemed ordinary, didn’t it, To have someone worry about her the way he did? It was ordinary. Mundane, even. Such a pedestrian thing, yet her heart fluttered like the wings of the butterflies that found home in her stomach. Because he, who had undergone incessant waves of her sarcasm, and hits of her insults that were lighthearted in intention, but cruel in nature, had been more than just a companion. For the past couple of weeks, they have become friends. And as of recently, maybe a little more. Perhaps that was wishful thinking on her end. Because how could a man like him, as perfect as he is, reciprocate what she had felt for him? When she had been the one to break his heart, when it was not hers to break? She’s a fool, she knew this full well, and though there was a possibility that he may not forgive her for invading the parts he wanted hidden, she had to try to pour her heart out unto him and only hope that he could see goodness in her again.

“I’m sorry, Kaladin,” Emerald whispered, a tremor in her breath, her lids fluttering to a gentle close with the kiss planted on her forehead like an unspoken promise. She lingered here. Lingered for a second in the warmth of his embrace, because within a heartbeat, she would be the first to let go. To pull away from utter bliss so that she may look at him—so he could look at her for all that she was. Just a girl, left fragile and vulnerable in his strong hands. She let go, finally released her fingers from his wavering hold. She took in a deep breath, as tremulous as the tides of her unsteady heart, and lifted her arms to gingerly, ever to gently place her hands on either side of his pretty mien, palms on the warmth of his cheeks. She held him delicately so, afraid that she’d break him further.

Her eyes, dark and filled with dread for the fear that she had indeed shattered his heart, had looked earnlessly in those beautiful brown pair of his. Even through the tears that welled in her own, she saw him clearly then. She saw the tinge of green in pools of umber, laced with thin strings of gold. It was ethereal, the way they shined in the light, a beautiful kaleidoscope of colours that she hadn’t noticed before. How could she not have noticed? How could she not have picked up on the faint dusting of auburn upon his cheeks, speckled over his near-perfect complexion that was airbrushed with fair, golden honey, tanned despite the usual forecast of sunless skies. Tanned despite the bright white moon suspended above them. He was an Adonis to walk the earth, with the dark hair that fell over his eyes in unruly curls and lips as soft as a silken pillow. And she was Aphrodite, whose heart beat for him as though the stars have intended it. Two souls, filled with despair, joined together only by a common break in their fortitude. Fate has always been a funny thing, hasn’t it? A funny, fickle thing.

And he had realized it before she did. Because the notes he had played so beautifully on his piano had been the song his heart sang, and it longed for a harmony. She didn’t know until now that he longed for her, the missing piece to his melody.

“How is it unfair to me?” It was a ghost of a whisper, audible only to the man she looked upon with a newfound adoration. The corners of her lips had stretched out into a smile, small and lachrymose like the tears that had finally fallen from her eyes, and onto her rose-dusted cheeks. For the first time, she didn’t try to wipe them away. She didn’t try to hide. She didn’t shield herself from him, and allowed him to see her as she saw him. To finally know the Emerald De Lisle who was in front him this whole time. “My dear, if anything, it’s unfair to you. I’ve been unfair to you. I’ve done nothing to deserve an ounce of your consideration. I’ve done nothing to be deserving of your kind heart, of the good man that you are. I’ve done nothing to be the missing piece to your song. I’ve done nothing to deserve kisses from your sweet, sweet, lips. There’s nothing that I’ve done to make you forgive me. Nothing. But for what it’s worth, I had never fallen into the beautiful thing that is your mind until I stepped into the room. With you. That, my dear, I can promise. And you don’t have to believe me. You don’t have to forgive me. Because I can barely forgive myself for doing so. But I couldn’t help myself today. People are easiest to read when they’re hurting. And I have hurt you.”

Her hands had retreated to her sides, and once more does she take his hand in her own. Intertwining their fingers just as she did before, however this time, she raised their joined hands to press a lingering kiss upon his knuckles.

“So don’t tell me it’s unfair to me. If you want to kiss me, then kiss me, Kaladin Ravenwood. But I’m telling you now, I’m the last person who deserves it.”

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ C. Joey Bell C. said once that it's the hard things that break, not the soft ones. Trying to become something hard will make you breakable, something that will burst into a million pieces, no matter what. And never before has he ever felt her words resonate across his soul as he did in this very moment, caught in the softness of the moment despite the shards of both their masks, raining down on them like snowflakes. If he would close his eyes, Kaladin was sure he could have seen them, glittering as if they were diamonds, shining with the light of their only witness reflected back towards the sky. Something had been broken between them, but instead of separating them as he had thought it would, it only served to pull them closer together, as odd as it seemed. Hard things broke easily and Kaladin was breaking - shattered by the smile on Emerald's lips, the softness of her eyes and the way her fingers gripped his tighter, his own nearly falling from her grasp when she stepped closer as he found himself at a loss for words, mind reeling to catch on. To grasp at the last strings of his sanity, thoughts racing with the things she had said and yet he came up empty handed.

He knew that if he didn't step back, if he didn't let go of her hand, he would become nothing more than a nutshell boat, swept away by the current and racing nothing but spindrift towards the edge of a waterfall, knowing all too well that at the bottom he'd find his watery grave and inevitable demise. The last rational part of his brain that hadn't succumbed to the feeling of betrayal just yet was screaming at him to let go of her hand, to step away. Yet he was caught in her orbit, to close now to be able to escape her gravity, even if he would have tried. It would only hurt her more, Kaladin tried telling himself in vain, if he ripped them apart now. There was no letting them down gently, he knew. And perhaps it had already been too late when he had given in all those nights before, letting her talk through an episode of frustration and anger at himself. It had been too late the moment he had heard this god forsaken melody for the fist time in his mind, its meaning becoming clearer by the second, as if the touch of her hand and the smell of her hair had been the hand to wipe the foggy mirror of his mind, leaving behind nothing but condensation and the steam of passion. They had fallen into each other's bodies just mere hours before and if Kaladin tried hard enough, he was sure he could still decipher the taste of her lips on his tongue, between all the acrid hurt and rage still boiling in his stomach.

God knew he had tried not to, had poked and pulled at her in the awareness that he'd get cut open by the thorns of her, for she everybody told him that she was nothing but a rose - pretty to look at and painful to the touch. When the last puzzle piece fell into place with her words whispered into his ear, it all made sense. It made so much sense that he couldn't stop the feeling of treachery that was raging in his chest like maelstrom of confusion to take over, his fingers twitching in her hold as if he couldn't decide if he wanted to squeeze her fingers even tighter, or if he wanted to let go. All these times when she had told him she'd figure him out, the strange gentleness she had treated him with earlier - as if he was a frightened animal, ready to bolt or attack - the way she had said that she understood what he was feeling like. It had been there, all the time and while his heart nearly stopped beating in his chest upon the revelation that she was trusting him with something like this, it couldn't overlay the abrupt feeling of being deceived. It was a foolish thought, born by nothing else but desperation. Because the truth was far more alarming.

He had been living his life like Peter Pan, chasing after his own shadow and the promises of fairy dust, so sweet on his tongue, while he refused to grow up. But time had sneaked up on him, ripping the carpet from underneath his feet to reveal the abyss that had been hiding beneath for quite some time and Kaladin was helpless, the slave of her will, ready to plummet into darkness. He could have told her, winced at the thought that she was probably listening in to his very thoughts while he had been doing nothing but standing there, letting her rest against him, struggling to get a hold on reality. If he'd tell her now - with them both cut open for the other to see the ugly side of who they truly were (or was it the beautiful side, who knew?) Kaladin wasn't sure if she would be able to let him down. He knew what it felt like to be burdened by someone else's feelings, but the guilt that could wreck through someone's soul while watching the light fade some someone's eyes. Cruel as he was, selfish as he was, he had done that. Now, standing on top of the tower with her against him, not quite in his arms just yet, he'd be no better than Hades, who offered Persephone the seeds of an innocent pomegranate, dooming them both to a life of longing and heartbreak.

But Kaladin Ravenwood was no hero, he was not a good man, had stopped trying at one point or the other and so he lifted his free hand, bringing it across the small of her back to pull her in against himself, cheek leaning against the top of her hair as he allowed himself to breathe for the first time in what felt like an eternity but could have only been a couple of minutes of bated breaths and racing thoughts. When had she become the harmony to the song that was beating in his chest, he asked himself, aware that if he was right she was aware of it now, too. Hell, if he cared enough to rein in his thoughts, to watch what he was revealing to her. It had all been out in the open before, no matter if she had realized or not. No, no matter if he had realized or not. Because Kaladin was nothing but a blabbering fool, even on his best days. "Thank you", he whispered to no one but the wind, fingers tightening in the fabric of his own coat, head turning that little fraction that was missing to be speaking against her, the hand that was still holding hers slowly letting go to rise and reach between them, thumb hooking underneath her chin to tilt up Emerald's head, their gazes finally locking together once more. He longed to see the truth in her, a fragment of his heart that was no bigger than the tip of a needle, hoping he'd see something else in those beautiful, cat-shaped eyes of hers, shining back at him like a flame in the darkest, deepest night.

If were anybody else, any other situation, he would have kissed her. He would have gone in for the kill, distracting them both from the cold and the harsh truth that was creeping up on him and maybe her as well. But he couldn't. Instead he opened his mouth, eyes darting back and forth between hers, letting out a quiet breath as his lips stretched in a sad, tiny smile that was nothing but a star, tucked away into the corner of his mouth.
"Thank you for... being honest with me, Emerald", he repeated, words breaking like shipwrecks against the rocks of his unbidden emotions. "But I think I need a moment to process this. And make myself believe that you truly aren't lying to me. Because-" He paused, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he ran his index finger against the soft round of her cheek, gaze darting down just momentarily to her own mouth, the seams of every scar he had been stitching shut over the past few days breaking open, his lips pressing against her forehead even while he was still breathing words of raw affection against her skin. "Because if I don't take this moment to clear my thoughts, I'll do something incredibly, horribly idiotic. And that wouldn't be unfair to you”

[post deleted by owner]

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ Emerald never felt small before. She always held her head high, always had a posture good enough to balance a stack of books atop her head while walking down a long hallway. Appearance is everything, her mother always said, and posture says a lot about the strength and confidence a woman holds. Balance is key to anything; if a woman can wear pounds and pounds of books like a heavy crown whilst drinking a hot cup of tea without dropping a single one, she could conquer the world. As a little girl, Emerald always followed her mother’s advice, always wanted to be the woman she looked up to since birth. She kept her head held high, chin pointed upwards, and always kept a foot in front of the other. The only thing she didn’t do, to her mother’s dismay, was sport a dazzling smile; a weapon she could use to charm any man or woman she pleased, if she ever needed to. The smile that would get her her way, whatever it may be. Instead, she relied on her wit to talk her through even the most dire of circumstances, with only a laser-cut gaze to assist. A smile was rarely shown upon those pretty lips, only making an appearance during desperate times. And Emerald was rarely desperate.

But the smile that recently found home on her otherwise placid demeanor was not a display to conceal desperation, nor was it used to have a man fall to his knees. She didn’t use it to earn a favor, either. How big a fool she must be, to only now figure out that the pleasant curve of her lips was, to the horror of her feeble heart, a genuine display of contentment. Endearment, even, for the person who brought on that very smile. Kaladin Ravenwood was the type of person she always thought she would hate. He was arrogant, a pest at best, and possibly one of the most obnoxious people she ever met at Hogwarts. Always a thorn in her side, and yet, she had entrusted him with more of her than she had with a person she’d known for years. Poured herself out to him like water in a pitcher, and yet, she had not an ounce of regret.

At first, she thought it was a bargain. A trade for learning what troubled his mind without his conscious consent. She thought it would put him at ease, at least, knowing that she too, was riddled with fear and doubt that the world would know them for who they were, that the them who put themselves out in the open was not them at all. That they weren’t the peope they claimed to be. She thought it was fair that both knew that they were alike, that their similarities lie in the false façade they displayed like a poster covering a cracked wall. That’s what she thought. But now, with his hand in her own, she knew that that was but an assumption she stupidly ingrained in her head, because she was far too dense to come to terms with the fact that she found comfort in his presence. She never believed she’d find warmth just standing by a person’s side. The concept was impossible to her before. But now as she stood by him, telling him the truth that she had never spoken before, the realization hit her like a boulder. And she was not prepared for it.

Even in his grasp, she felt herself losing her ground, unwillingly letting go of the composure she had desperately held onto that night. She felt herself slipping away too easily, carried away by heavy tides as though she had anchored herself onto open waters, weighed down yet not quite had enough of a hold to stay where she was—where she wanted to be. She was a ship that was losing her balance in the midst of thrashing waters, and his disbelief a storm that churned within the clouds from up above. His words struck like lightning, while his thoughts served as roaring thunder to heed warning. She’s a small boat in a large, belligerent ocean. She’s unarmed, unmanned, the crew that were her usual witty, snide remarks abandoning ship altogether, leaving her defenseless. She could feel herself teetering over the edge, nearly flipping over entirely, and aboard the railing that kept her from falling into the deep abyss of the night. For she had nothing else to say, nothing to defend herself with, nothing to amend the anguish that unraveled before her. Left vulnerable in the tide of his mercy.

She watched as his mind reeled from the confession that spilled forth from her lips, spoken like a riddle that he had difficulty solving. She saw as his countenance, angular physiognomy with a beautiful shade of fair honey that shined like the finest porcelain underneath the blue light, contorted with the wave of emotions that colored his heart, differing shades reflecting betrayal, distress, and fleeting flashes of anger. This time, she was the one who wanted to let go, despite being the first to reach out. Previously having longed for his touch, his hand now felt cold in her own, as her own betrayal seeped in through her skin and displayed itself upon her features. Her brows furrowed behind wisps of brunette hair that blew in front of her eyes as another breeze intruded, sweeping away the color in her face as she witnessed her biggest fear slowly creep up in her vision. She grimaced. She had given him too much of her, she knew. And it was far too late to take it all back. Words that were spoken into the wind would always be gone before she could catch it.

“I’m not lying, Kaladin,” came out as a whisper that was broken like shattered glass.

Her somber gaze flickered to their joined hands. His thumb, grazing ever so lightly along her knuckles, was gentle, yet the gesture had her floored. She had completely lost her balance then, and this time, it was her mind reeling with utter bewilderment. Her lips parted as she caught her breath. She fell silent once more, and simply stared at their fingers, laced with one another’s as though they were both holding on. Holding onto each other, because both were close to falling apart. Squeezing his hand, she took another step forward, placing her other hand atop his shoulder before resting her chin on her knuckles. All caution had been released, and she couldn’t give a care in the world. All she wanted now was not to rebuild her dignity; all she needed was for Kaladin to forgive her.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Kal,” her voice was barely audible, but with her lips just a few inches from his ear, she was sure he could hear her just fine. Oh, if only he could read her mind so that he knew how genuinely her heart beat with candor. “I wouldn’t lie about this.”



Emerald shut her eyes as she drew in a breath, shaky as her body grew the longer she stood out in the cold. “God, I wish I was. Or else I wouldn’t be putting you in this position.”

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ The emotions crashing over her features when she turned to face him again were like raindrops against a foggy window, blending together and disappearing out of sight and yet leaving behind fragments Kaladin could have been able to trace with the tips of his fingers, if only he were a little bit stronger. A little bit braver, a little more bold. Yet she had thrown him off, had him teetering on an edge he hadn't known he was balancing, suddenly feeling like an artist atop a wire in the air, dancing on the edge of a knife that would split him open any second, between the clouds of a dream he had been dreaming for far too long. There was no fixing this, no going back from what she had witnessed on his face - no, maybe even his very soul, his emotions laid out bare and open to her like battle wounds not yet scarred over. He felt as if he were dangling off the moon, held between the pinched fingers of Mistress Fate, the crack she had pressed into him with the tips of her elegant fingers slowly unraveling the longer the wordless, soundless, gaping abyss between them stretched. Oblivion, it seemed, was nothing either of them could ever obtain now. Never again.

And it was as if his own struggle was revealed to him, starting into the mirrored discomfort on her countenance, eyes wild like a deer in the headlights of a speeding car and Kaladin wondered if she was even aware of the expression she let him see, so unguarded defenseless. He knew that look, knew it all too well - was it not the very play of emotions that often stared back at him from behind silver glass, dripping with desperation. He left a piece of himself with every smile and every kiss he gave away, until there was nothing left but what he was now. Not quite a man, not quite a boy anymore, staring down into the face of a young woman who seemed just as broken as he felt. What were the odds? It could be a saving grace, a silver lining, for someone to know the real him and yet the power her discovery granted her felt like a knife held to his throat. He had never been exposed like this, to nobody ever before. He had stripped himself , had allowed people to lay their hands on him, their mouths and desires and yet the only person who had ever come close to unwrapping the darkest corners of his mind that were packaged so prettily, had been Alexander. Still, not even his best friend had ever been allowed to venture further than Kaladin had been comfortable - knowing about Scarlet and their struggled, yes, not a single step more.

Emerald de Lisle, in her terrifying beauty, her frightening vulnerability, suddenly seemed as if she had found a way to do just that. And it was nothing but unfiltered horror for him. The damage had been done, was permanent now that it had been brought out into the open, both of them like fish out of the water. Cut loose from whatever leashes had been holding them, exposed to the most unlikely of people. He was aware of the fact that he was probably the last person she wanted to see her like this, that he had done nothing but bother her for weeks on end, if not years. His sole existence sometimes seemed to do that to people. Even to him.

The smile he forced was strained at best, nothing more than a pained grimace created in a feeble attempt of lightening to the mood, only for it to freeze and fall off his lips altogether the moment he saw the movement of her arm, hand slipping from the pocket of his coat. She looked dwarfed by the piece of clothing, the sleeves almost long enough to cover her hands and while it was exceedingly charming, something about it made his heart ache.

In any other moment he would have marveled at it, would have taken everything she threw at him right now with pride, now it almost made him flinch away. A part of him was not ready for it, not even when it was what he probably longed the most for - to be someone people could be honest with, could confide in, count on. Emerald, as small and vulnerable as she was now, scared him. Yet he didn't move from where he was standing, fighting against the instinct that told him to shatter whatever bubble they were caught in, hand turning towards hers almost too easily, letting heir lace their fingers together. It would have been easy for him to tug her into his space, cradle her against his body, if only to hide the look on her face from his eyes - if only to hide himself behind the shadow of charm and confidence he wore like a crown. It was an armor, truthfully. A suit of red he flaunted so people couldn't see how profusely they made him bleed.

"Good one", he started, voice ripped into silence at the words that followed after and his fingers went limp in her hold. His body went still, as if he had stopped breathing, shoulders straightening as is spine pulled and went rigid. She had probably heard more of his conversation over the phone than he had suspected, had put two and two together from whatever he might have let slip while they were texting. But it felt off, the way she had phrased it, so sure of what she was saying it made his blood run like ice in his veins. "What...?", he whispered, eyes growing wide before they narrowed, traveling over her face to find a trace of mockery in her own gaze, darting across her face in utter confusion, almost like he was unable to focus on a detail of her features for too long. "Don't joke with me, Emerald", Kaladin muttered then, wincing at how harsh his words sounded even to his own ears. He was unraveling and he was doing it fast, stumbling towards and abyss he'd tumble into like a drunken idiot. "Who told you? Have you been speaking with Alex? Was this the reason you even bothered with me for so long? I swear if-"

Betrayal whipped across him so suddenly, he almost dropped her hand, fingers growing cold in her hold but he was unwilling to let go, barely stopping himself from gripping her tighter, throat clogging up with fear. It felt like waking up from a nightmare, disoriented and flailing, mind foggy. He knew he was being irrational, knew Alexander would never betray him like this and not with Emerald of all people. They knew each other, yes, but if there was one person in the world Kaladin trusted with all his secrets, it was his only true friend. The one who had seen him cry for the first time when Scarlet had been sent to the boarding school abroad, the one who had put up with his sorry for years even when he started ing himself numb and bruised. But it stung, the thought of her gaining knowledge about this so easily and it didn't almost didn't matter how she had managed to do so. Who knew what a girl like Emerald could do? To him, it sometimes seemed as if she could do anything she wanted, if only she tried hard enough, stubborn as she was.

And so he was left starting back at her, in abject candor, mouth opening and closing around an apology he couldn't bring himself to voice out loud. "This isn't funny", he rasped out then, thumb running over her knuckles as if it would be apology enough for his angry outburst, the only thing he could do to stop himself from reaching out and grasping her shoulder. "Don't act like you can read my mind, Emerald. This is /not/ the moment to around."