Scrapbook Moments

Hey...

She sat with her back against the wall between the autumn yellow-orange bushes, her scrapbook open on her knees. A completely normal situation, except for the fact that tears flowed down her face like beads of water on the leaves of a plant or raindrops on the windshield of a car before being caught by the windshield wiper. But nothing wiped away her tears. They dripped merrily from her chin and formed dark spots on the written, scribbled, and pasted pages of the book.

He quickly bridged the last few meters until he was standing in front of her. She didn't look up at him, but he knew she had noticed him. He knew it.

He hesitantly sat down to her left and reached out to her with his rough hand with its black-painted fingernails. But as in most cases, it froze mid-movement before it could reach her destination, so he ended up gently brushing her shoulder with his scarf.

"Hey."

She didn't bother to wipe away her tears or look at him, but her voice alone was filled with pure tenderness as she answered. Simple and only one word, just like him.

"Hey."

"What happened?"

"I lost. Again."

"It's not that bad."

"10th place for the seventh time in a row."

OK... that was bad. How was he supposed to cheer her up? Usually, it was the other way around, she brought him out of his slump. At a loss, he tried again to get his hand to obey his commands - and failed again in vain. So instead of his hand, he gently placed his scarf on her head.

"It seems to me as if the others are always one step ahead of me. Everyone plays better than me. Like they all play differently."

"That's because they really play differently than you. Every Brawler plays in a different way. We differ not only in our weapons, damage and hit points, but also in our tactics. I fight with my anger... well, my scarf fights for me. You're more likely to fight with fascination. Fascination with Piper, Spike and all the others and fascination with Brawlstars itself. You brawl for the brawling itself, like Piper."

Now she looked at him. Her eyes had become glowing balls from which only sparse beads of water dripped.

"You think I'm like Piper?!"

"Yes... yes. You're both Long-range-Brawlers and talented and friendly... and incredibly pretty."

As if with these words he had turned off a dripping faucet deep inside her, the tears stopped dripping al last. Finally, she wiped her face with a smile, leaving only her glowing eyes. Slightly red, but if you looked closely, you could even see stars twinkling in it. And he saw them.

He tentatively lifted his scarf again, then changed his mind and put his arm around her instead. His real arm.

"How about a game of Duo-showdown for a change?"

"Gladly."

Beaming, she buried her face in his shoulder.

"And thank you. Edgar."

"At any time. Colette."