𝙆𝙄𝙎𝙎 𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙁𝙊𝙊𝙇ʳᵃⁿᵇᵒᵒ

*•.¸♡𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙♡¸.•*

He was beyond content up there. And I should learn to let him go.

Now every time I sit on my roof, I get to watch Mr Hops in all his glory, sitting quaintly atop the power line. Now only I was the one longing to be just that little bit braver, brave enough to see over the Johnson's house and out onto the lake. It was a bittersweet success, but it gave a me peace of mind.

At least one of us was happy.

When I told Isla the story she was smiling for hours, and this I could actually confirm this time. It was one of those very few star gazing calls in which she was confident enough to facetime me rather than just call, though I was never confident enough to turn my camera on myself.

She used to egg me on, telling me that she wouldn't comment on anything at all and that if she did that I should block her because that's just an asshole thing to do. But I would just simply shrug her off by saying I just didn't feel comfortable yet.

And that was a big yet.

Naturally she was confused by this, maybe even a little bit offended at points, but after about an hour of trying she gave up, and decided to leave me be, allowing me to relax just that little bit longer. Allowing me to prolong the inevitable at for just an inch longer.

But although I didn't show my face at all that call, I did turn on my camera once.

She wanted to see Mr Hops, in all his glory atop of the power line. So, I showed her, as well as the view from the roof. She marvelled at it, saying it was beautiful and that I was lucky to have such a beautiful view from my own home. I only smiled and thanked her, though she wouldn't be able to see it.

The truth was I wanted to show her my face, more than anything really. But I knew that if I wanted to keep this relationship between us going for any longer it would have to be kept secret.

And what a true shame that was.

That same call also happened to be the call in which I wrote the poem. The one for Isla's birthday.

For the view isn't all the roof is useful for. It was also a great place to think.

When I say think, I mean think about anything really. Think about school, think about stream ideas, think about her. It was mostly her I thought of actually. That same ideation of her in my arms as we watch the stars glued confidently to my frontal lobe. Though it didn't bother me. And with the help of the roof and her beautiful voice and face present on my phone screen, it wasn't and entirely difficult task. I finished the poem within an hour.

That call was also the call I packed the present, ready to send off to Brighton for her birthday.

And the same call I silently contemplated sending her the hoodie.

I knew it was a gesture she would appreciate, for she was always mentioning that she just knew I had good style (when I told her I really only wear Hawaiian shirts, her reaction was quite mixed) and I knew she would wear the hoodie almost everyday, the thought of that made me smile like an idiot. But that fact was also kind of the problem.

She would wear it all the time, probably around Tubbo.

She would wear a Ranboo merch hoodie around Tubbo.

With this information and her constant blabbering, it would make it relatively easy for him to piece together the pieces of the puzzle.

It was a recipe for disaster. Yet, I still did sent it. All because I knew it would make her smile.

And I knew deep down I would do anything for that smile.

So the moment I ended the call I drove down to the post office and sent of the package. It was impulsive and would most likely end in pure and utter disaster, and that knowledge made it bittersweet. But I felt accomplished nonetheless.