[M] Et Chantez-moi

Clover and roses.

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The Six Kingdom's most prestigious university and the de facto cultural capital of Anaxas.

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Lars
Posts: 447
Joined: Sun Nov 25, 2018 1:04 pm
Topics: 44
Race: Passive
: nil igitur mors est ad nos
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Wed Mar 06, 2019 11:44 pm

The East Garden
Ophus 12, 2718 Night
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What a dreadful wintry night; the university grounds blanketed with a layer of white snow that continued to fall so peacefully from the skies. It was cold, beyond cold - freezing beyond measure, and whereas normally each snowflake that fell upon one's hair and skin would melt moments after, tonight they were inclined to stick; clinging to messy auburn waves and eyelashes. Emerald-tinted eyes could only peer into the darkness, gazing out upon a labyrinth of twisting tangles and thorns, sharp edges glinting in the light of the moons. It would've been more beautiful if it weren't so eerie a sight.

She just about jumped out of her skin at the noise; the sound of shoes crunching against the snow, of someone approaching. A sharp intake of breath accompanied the turning of her head, hair swaying gently in the chilling breeze, eyes sorrowful pits of deep green as they fell upon their visitor.

"You came," the quiet words escaped her chapped lips in uncertain surprise.

"Of course," she could tell he was struggling in the cold. With nothing but a light jacket to save him from the icy temperatures, she could understand. Already his cheeks and nose were pink, a splash of frigid color against the slightest hint of freckles, his delicate hands and long fingers tucked safely into his pockets.

She took a breath, and then another. She could see her exhalations outlined in white against the cold air; could see his breath as it left his nose. It was a strange and welcome reminder of life against the bleakness of the overgrown garden.

"I... I wasn't sure if you would," she admitted, eyes downcast to stare at the purity of the snow instead, "considering... you know."

His footsteps against the snow again; closing more of the distance between them until it measured only a foot. He was considering something, she could tell, could read it in his faraway expression. Not many could understand and find the meaning in the little shifts in his face, the subtle differences in expression, but she liked to think she could by now. She knew when he was irritated - when his distant eyes finally decided to focus on his subject and grant them true acknowledgement. She knew when he was sad or upset - when an already-blank face seemed to deaden all the more, as if retracting into himself. She knew when he was pleased, when he was overjoyed, when he was truly happy - because she'd never seen it. She wasn't entirely sure he had ever seen it either.

Not with her around, at least. That was one thing she knew. One thing he'd always made clear.

"Considering... what?" but his voice was so soft in this proximity, and his demeanor nothing but kind. She cleared her throat, debating whether to tell him the truth of her misfortunes or to blame it on the university as always.

"It's past curfew," she decided, bringing herself to smile as she observed the other. His head fell into a nod, metallic eyes darting away from her face in favor of peering out upon the thorns.

"Plenty of thorns out here," said the blonde idly, "about as many as there are locked away."

Her head tilted slightly, her own eyes flicking to the sad excuse of a rose garden, "thorns can't live locked away, can they?"

"Not for long."

She wasn't sure what he meant, but she moved past the little matter easily, "walk with me?"

They fell into step beside one another, her eyes downcast while he stared on ahead. He seemed fine to ignore the closeness as she moved slightly closer with each step, subconsciously seeking out whatever warmth radiated from his body, but perhaps more consciously seeking the comfort of being close to him. A relative silence fell upon the garden, the only sounds stemming from their shoes against the snow and the wind against the immovable, vine-covered trees.

It wasn't long before they reached her destination, coming to a stop before a frozen pond.

"Oh..." came out in disappointment, "the koi aren't frozen too, are they?"

"I've got no clue," he admitted.

Reaching out her foot, she prodded the frozen surface curiously, although quickly discovered that it would take more than a gentle prod to break the ice. Her companion was silent behind her as she continued to press, extending her efforts into kicking the ice - soon enough it shattered, revealing a layer beneath of freezing water. A small smile stretched across her pale face, emerald eyes watching the water as it shimmered in the low light.

Gaze still fixed upon the liquid, she continued to speak, "Lars, I... I'm afraid. I'm afraid of what's going to happen to all of us in the new year."

"Why are you afraid?"

"What if we freeze like the koi, Lars?" her voice began to break, "not literally, I just - I'm just afraid of it all. So many of us died just this year, and it's not like the gollies are going to protect us, are they? Not... not really. They might say they try, gods they might try, but will it be enough?"

"Well, of course," the Hessean sniffled in the cold, "it'll be enough to satisfy them for a time. Why are you working yourself up over it, though, Clover? Did something happen?"

Clover shook her head, even as tears glinted in the moonlight.

"No. I just can't stop thinking about it, thinking about what might happen to you - what's already happened to you, gods, I can't... I certainly can't protect you, and the gollies can't, so what am I supposed to do?"

Lars stepped forward, finding his place beside her at the water's edge. Finally pulling a cold hand from his pocket, he reached up to gently push some of the messy hair out of her face and behind her ear.

"That's not for you to worry about."

"Bu-but if I don't then nobody will, Lars. And I'm just so godsdamn useless, I - I - I can't do anything! None of us can, how can we? I can't take it anymore, Lars. I didn't... I didn't bring you out here to stress you out, b-but Lars, I can't take it anymore. I can't. I-I've gotta - I can't - I do-don't want to live like this anymore, I can't live like this."

"Hey," the blonde pulled her close, and he could feel her rapid heartbeat against his chest, "don't think like that. You're not useless, you know that, don't you?"

She wished she could live in this moment forever, held tightly in his arms, his voice low and soft in her ears.

"I need you here, Clover."

Her tears left a wet patch behind on his jacket as she lifted her head from his chest, emerald eyes meeting blue.

"Y-yo-you do?"

"Of course," Lars assured, one hand coming up to push the hair away from her face again, head tilting down to press a kiss to her cold forehead, "who else but you?"


Harper.


His eye twitched. If he only closed them, he could pretend.

"It's always been you."

"I..." she couldn't think of anything else to say, her mind left dumbfounded, surprised, in a state of blissful and pleasant shock. Clover stared at the taller man for a few long moments, admiring his features, admiring him, and finally the moment came in which she found her confidence. Pushing herself up on her toes, with her heart threatening to beat out of her chest, she pushed her lips against his.

Soft, warm, even in the chilling Ophus wind.

Lars leaned into the kiss, the raised hand smoothing back to hold her head, thumb behind her delicate ear. His lips drew in a breath against hers, a soft noise of appreciation falling from Clover's mouth before she pressed back into the kiss, her arms pulling him closer against her in the cold.

Red, he had red hair, not nearly as long but just as much of a mess when he slept with his face in his books.

She was going to ask you to drown her, Lars, isn't that more your thing?

A small sound of irritation came from the corner of his mouth, and Clover pulled back, heavy-lidded eyes inspecting his face, her own a deep shade of red.

"Is - is something wrong, Lars?"

"I don't want you getting caught out here so late, Clover," he managed, "but just remember: you're not useless. You have a purpose Clover, at least to me."

What in the name of Alioe are you going to do with her?

Pressing another, short kiss to her lips, Lars added afterwards, "you have a purpose."

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