✧❀ honey ❀✧
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☽
Medha is having a crisis.
She's having a crisis and she doesn't know what to do and she doesn't know where to put all the feelings she's feeling and she's having a crisis.
A small part of her wants to believe that her crisis isn't about the girl she's been spending all her time with— right from waking up at the crack of dawn and laying on grass under the blazing sun and pointing out the clouds that resemble Nutmeg, all the way down to spending nights under the same skies and explaining each constellation in detail to her—, but the bigger, more sensible part of her knows that her crisis, is, in fact, about Noor.
Quietly humming, she undoes the ribbon from her hair, shoving it into her dress pocket and crashing onto the grass under her, sprawling out with her cheek pressed against the soft blades of grass.
There really isn't a logical explanation for why she's having a crisis. There isn't a single reason for her to be questioning herself and her thoughts and her entire being, but she just is. And she can't seem to do anything about it.
Whistling to herself, she sinks further into the grass, staring up at the afternoon sky with the sun beating down on her face, and she just sighs.
Sighs for all the thoughts she's overthinking, sighs for all the opportunities she's missing out on right now by overthinking, sighs for the lavender tea that she could be sharing with Noor right now if she hadn't refused her offer yesterday because she was afraid of what the pounding in her chest meant.
Noor is... everything Medha's ever wanted to know. She's a curious person by nature, always looking for something to relieve her itch to know, but Noor is all of that and more. Noor is an enigma and Noor is beautiful and Noor is the answer to all her curiosities, because when she's around Noor, she doesn't need to know so much anymore. She just needs to be.
And Noor understands.
She understands her curiosity for things that others don't find the least bit fascinating, she understands her need to talk about everything she's even mildly interested in, she even understands her hate for the fancy letters that her name is written in on the door to her house.
Medha knows she understands because she saw it the other day, on their picnic, when she had to leave because of the crowds and the people and the overwhelm, and Noor was right there with her in an instant, and Medha knows she understands because she saw it when she visited Noor and Nutmeg jumped on her and the sheer concern for her on Noor's face was almost comical if it wasn't so sweet, and Medha knows she understands because she caught a peek of a sketch tucked under her tablecloth, one that looked suspiciously like her name, but in a different font.
So she doesn't know why she's in a dilemma right now.
Except that she does.
Liking someone is scary. It's a terrifying feeling for anyone, but it's especially terrifying for Medha because it's never happened before.
She's never met someone who has a laugh that sounds like a thousand rays of sun glistening on a lake, who has a smile that looks like the sun from which those rays fell, who has a personality that's softer than freshly-mowed grass.
And now, she has.
And she doesn't know how to function.
Her parents always told her to be careful of who she gives her heart to, that people can rip it out of your soul and shove it back in when they don't need it anymore, or worse, when they find a new one to rip apart.
She's sure that if she tells Noor how she feels about her, she's giving her heart away. Willingly. But she isn't sure if it's supposed to feel this way.
This isn't... ripped out. This isn't ripped apart and shoved back in and manhandled, and this isn't ripped out at all.
This feels like... protection. Her heart is being held by a pair of hands within her ribcage, and for once, she's certain it isn't her own hands. There's no ache that accompanies her thoughts about Noor's beaming smile that puts constellations to shame and Noor's silvery voice that never fails to slow down Medha's heartbeat when it's running a million miles an hour and Noor's hands that are always adorned with a fragment of Noor's culture, which in turn, is a fragment of her heart.
Medha never knew attraction towards someone— can it be considered attraction when a person has flooded every crevice of your brain and refuses to leave?— could be so iridescent.
Because that's exactly what it is. It's rainbows that span across hills. It's soap bubbles mixed with sunlight streaming into her kitchen. It's the wings of the butterflies that sit on her bicycle handlebars.
Iridescence has never felt better.
Releasing a quiet breath, Medha flips over, such that her stomach is pressed against the grass beneath her and her vision is directly in line with the distant goats grazing on the hill she's currently taken solace on.
Why am I having a crisis over something— someone— as simple as Noor? she muses internally to herself, as if she hasn't been asking herself that question for the past two days.
It's a funny thing— the way she feels about Noor.
It's unlike anything she's ever experienced, there hasn't been anyone in Farmond to spark that flame within her until she met Noor those two weeks ago.
And sure, she's seen people be... fond— if that's what she feels for Noor— for others. Her parents are a prime example, because their love is like no other she's witnessed.
Others, too. People at the market, the lovely couple who lives a few lanes down her house and always wishes her a good morning, the pair of birds that are always sitting on her clothesline— their fondness for each other is normal to her. It's natural.
It isn't confusing when it's someone else, it's confusing when it's her.
But she knows her crisis is bigger than just Noor.
It's about the feeling that arises in the pits of her stomach when she thinks of Noor.
Talking to Noor, being around her, even thinking about her— it feels like coming home after a long day of work while simultaneously setting out on a new adventure in freshly pressed clothes and a book with freshly pressed flowers in hand.
It's comfort, and it's new, and it's terrifying to think about. She's always felt emotions at a stronger level than most other people, but she's never felt emotions like... what she's feeling right now.
It's a good emotion. Just a scary one.
One that would definitely be significantly less scary if she had someone to talk to about it.
So, slowly, and begrudgingly, raising herself from the grass, she waves to the goats in the distance, motioning them over towards her in the hopes that at least one of them will sense her plight and make their way over.
And as luck would have it, the Gods seem to be on her side today— because a single goat, a baby, manages to catch sight of her frantically waving her hands around to signal the grazing herd in her direction, and slowly begins to walk towards her.
It doesn't take Medha more than a second since the goat reaches her to begin rambling, because she just needs to get it out. All her feelings, all her emotions. She just needs a release, a way to explain herself to someone who will just listen— even if it's an animal who's doing the listening.
"Hi, baby," she mumbles to the goat, its beady eyes staring down at her, before it sits down beside her, shoving its head into her lap. "Aren't you adorable?" she coos quietly, reaching into her bag to take out the box of finely cut carrots that she always carries around with her, on the off-chance that she runs into an animal.
"'I name you..." Trailing off, she frowns, inspecting its brown fur and its shining eyes. "Honey," she finally decides. "Your name is Honey, and you're going to sit here and listen to me complain about things that others don't even have to think twice about."
Of course, the goat— Honey— doesn't reply.
That's enough of a cue for her to continue.
Softly sighing, she opens her palm out for Honey to nibble tiny bits of carrot from it while inhaling deeply, a final breath before she starts.
"Okay, well," she begins, and she doesn't know why but she's nervous. To talk to a goat.
Heavens, she must really be losing her mind.
"I'm not nervous," she mutters to Honey, and then once more, to herself, but in reality, she knows she is nervous. This is a confession of all her feelings, and she's never done this before. Spoken about any of this. "Okay, I'm nervous, but that's okay. What are you going to do, judge me?"
The goat just stares up at her.
"I have—" she starts once more, but this time, her voice cracks pathetically, not out of sadness but out of pure disbelief. At herself, mostly, but a little bit at the fact that she's talking to a goat and that isn't the most obscure thing she's done in Farmond so far. "I have... so many emotions. And I don't know where to put them."
She hums softly, shrugging but making sure not to make too much movement in case Honey decides to get up and leave. "I've never felt this way about anyone. Am I supposed to feel so... much?" she asks, as if Honey is going to reply.
As expected, the goat just continues to nibble away at the carrots in her outstretched palm.
"Noor is easy to like," she confesses— she's mostly talking to herself now, but she appreciates the audience. "If I had a choice... if I could choose who my first was— my first person that I've ever been romantically attracted to— God, that feels weird to say—, I would pick Noor. She's so simple to like. I'm sure every single person in this town likes her.
"But..." Plucking at the grass with her free hand, she sighs again, a sigh of pure exasperation at her own thoughts. "Why do I find it so hard? Why do I not know how to sort through my own feelings, and why do I spend so much time dwelling on things that others wouldn't spare a second glace at?"
Honey doesn't reply, but this time, Medha doesn't expect them to— she's too wrapped up in her own thoughts to let an unresponsive goat prevent her from continuing her monologue.
She wants to tell Honey that she doesn't know how she wound up here— in a field, laying on untamed grass, and talking to an animal that definitely won't respond to her woes, but she knows that this isn't exactly an... odd affair for her.
And she also knows that if any passerby caught glance of her, they wouldn't be the least bit shocked, considering this is just what she does.
Laying on the rolling hills when the noises in Farmond are a bit too loud for communication and the noises in her head are a bit too quiet for comfort, talking to animals who don't reply but listen with patient ears, talking to herself when there are no animals willing to lend their ears— it's just what she does, and she isn't ashamed of it.
So, instead of lamenting about how ridiculous it is that she's talking about her catastrophes that really aren't catastrophes to a goat, she just continues.
"I've always been bad at feelings," she mutters, it comes out as a sigh more than anything. "Actually, I've always been bad at expressing them, I think. I know how to care for people and I know how to love them, but I don't know how to tell them that I care." Sighing, she waits for Honey to finish eating their carrot pieces before letting them place their head in her lap. "I don't know. It's hard. Feelings are hard, and it's harder to accept that they're there."
Again, she sighs, carding her fingers through the long grass beside her. "I like Noor." An understatement. "I want to spend time with her. I want to watch the sunrise— well, the sky after her sunrise prayers— with her, and I want to watch the stars with her."
Twisting her back, she winces at the crack that resonates aloud. "Is it that simple?" she asks quietly, as if she's going to get a response. Though, she supposes, she wouldn't be talking to a goat if she's been expecting a response all this time, she would have spoken to her parents. Maybe all she wanted was an excuse to talk about it. "Do I just have to... tell her? And that's it?"
And for the first time since Medha called them over, Honey does something other than stare up at her and eat carrots out of her palm.
It isn't much, it isn't anything, really, but at this point, Medha will take anything that isn't Honey just staring up at her, unblinking, unresponsive, and nibbling at her palm.
They tilt their head forward, nudging her gently in her stomach.
And though the rational part of Medha knows that the reason they're doing that is because they want more carrots, she takes it as a sign. Because there aren't many of them, and she'll take what she can get.
"Okay," she says, releasing a low breath. "I like Noor, Noor likes me. I think. I hope." God, I hope. "So... All I have to do is tell her. Right?"
Honey doesn't say anything, doesn't react other than a miniscule nod. But that's enough for Medha.
"Right. Tomorrow, I'll tell her."
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☽
+2350
AN: medha loml hav u seen the way noor looks at u 😩🙏 that girl is in Love......
anyway!
the next chapter is the last chapter— which i'll be updating next sunday!! i've got exams for the next two weeks so unfortunately, i can only update on sundays so ! last chapter next sunday, and then, the introduction to the dark academia book (which is shaping up . quite nicely, if i do say so myself😋) the sunday after that!! after that, i should have a coherent schedule 🥰
thank u all for being so patient w me and for the kind response on the previous chapter :") i missed updating and interacting w everyone so it's good to be back !! <3
hope everyone has a good day today❤️ thank u for reading !!!!💕