THE ULTIMATE REALIZATION that you're in love is almost always exaggeratedly optimistic in fiction.
People say that it's liberating, that it's pure elation, and that it's paradise-like you're running off into the sunset hand in hand with someone.
But it's not like that at all.
It's scary.
It feels like the ground underneath you has suddenly disappeared, and you're falling- heart in your throat, limbs flailing, stomach dropped and all. Like a dip in a roller-coaster that's never-ending, so you don't know what it feels like to finally stop to let your feet touch the solid ground.
It feels like you're always falling, without being able to land because the ground isn't anywhere near you. The term that comes closest to it would be freefall. And it's even more terrifying because it always lingers- never quite going away.
I was sixteen when it happened.
I was running errands for my mum in another neighborhood, away from my own, when I saw her.
I knew that this was her nan's house because she had attended my last recital with our school's drama teacher- and my mum had offered to walk her home after that.
I had completely forgotten that her nan even lived in this area until I caught sight of Ophelia as I was walking back.
There was a small patch of flowers, right outside and she was crouched among them, a loose ribbon tying her long auburn hair back. It took me a good minute of staring at her like an absolute creep to realize what she was doing.
She was feeding birds.
They were sitting on her palm, eating out of her other hand- and she was looking down at them with her eyes bright and shining like it was the best thing she could be doing at that moment.
Right then, watching her sit among flowers with one bird perched on her shoulder and two others sitting in her hands, made a part of me seriously question if she was even real. Because right then, she seemed far too breathtaking to be. If fairies were real, she'd be one.
But all that wasn't what made the ground under my feet seem unstable.
She was smiling.
While I had been lucky enough to catch glimpses of very small, shy smiles- I had never seen her smile like this. Wide, toothy, completely carefree- holy shit.
I couldn't stop staring.
I willed my mind to remember that moment for as long as I could, and I prayed that one day I'd muster the courage to talk to her with that image in mind as motivation.
Because I wanted her to smile at me like that.
I don't think I had ever wanted something that bad. But I think I realized then, that once I had the courage- I'd probably do anything to have her look at me, notice me even, and smile like that.
And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, she laughed.
It sounded like a bright, cheery giggle more than anything but it was still the loveliest thing I had ever heard. Something inside my chest melted.
It was so, so stupid to feel weak in the knees just because someone laughed- but I really did feel like that.
Like the ground underneath my feet was giving away.
It was because that was when the realization hit me like a truck. It wasn't just a big crush that would fade later.
It was something much, much more.
She was smiling.
It was a small, barely-there type of smile and not the big, eye-crinkled carefree one from all that time before- the one that I had been hoping to catch a glimpse of again- but it was progress.
I'd say I was drawing closer to getting her to smile at me like that- because now and then, I'd catch a glimpse of a big happy beam whenever I did something to make her happy.
I hadn't heard her laugh like the way she did back then either, but with those smiles coming my way, I had to be close.
I wasn't there yet- but I would be. Soon.
She was also kicking me.
I don't think she even realized she was, but she was swinging her feet under the table and I think she assumed that her feet were making contact with the wooden beam and not my legs.
It didn't hurt, and even if it did- why on earth would I mention it?
Her mug of hot chocolate was in her hands, while mine was down on the table- relatively untouched.
I glance down at it.
I didn't even like hot chocolate.
The only time I did was when she made it for me. I hadn't even known that she liked hot chocolate- but it was the first thing my mind jumped to, to make her feel better.
Just the thought of the girl from lunch earlier made me mad. Fucking bitch. You weren't supposed to taunt someone over medication like it was a joke.
I did google it later during one of our classes. ADD stood for Attention Deficit Disorder and while it was occasionally used interchangeably with ADHD it generally referred to one of the types of ADHD- the inattentive type.
The more I read about it, the more I realized that some of the symptoms eerily resemble some of the things she did.
I noticed that she was worried about what we'd think about it. She'd quite literally deflated- even if it was slight- when Fynn said that she didn't have to worry about it. A diagnosis didn't change anything- she was still her. I'd make sure she always knew that.
Her phone vibrates, making her tear her eyes away from the window and look down at the screen.
"Atlas K. Jackson just mentioned you in their story," she reads quietly from the notification before she looks up at me with her eyebrows furrowed gently in question.
I turn my phone around so she can see the screen, and I see her hazel eyes go wide as she leans across the table slightly to look at the photo.
It was something I had gotten a few seconds ago when she was looking out of the window with the mug in her hand. I had to stop myself from staring at it for too long like a whipped fool.
"You're good," she says softly, eyes flitting to mine as her small smile widens appreciatively. Fuck. Don't melt, don't melt, don't melt-
I look down at my phone with a nod, exhaling.
I had very stupidly blurted out something about her being pretty the last time, half-dazed- and only later when I was thinking about it did I remember what I had said.
I nearly smacked myself in the face in the middle of class for that. I wasn't going to embarrass myself again like that. I wasn't.
"I was looking at your feed earlier today," she tells me, a tad bit bashful as she leans back into her seat.
"Yeah?" I lean back into my seat, mimicking her movement.
She nods, still smiling slightly. "I didn't know I was friends with an internet micro-celebrity."
"Ah," I run a hand through my hair, clearing my throat, "It's the cello and piano videos."
"I'll watch all of them," she promises, with a very endearing solemn expression.
One corner of my lips tilts upward, as she finishes the last of her hot chocolate and puts the empty mug down.
"I finished that pretty fast," she remarks quietly to herself, licking her lips.
I wordlessly push my mug towards her.
Her eyes widen. "Oh no, that's yours!"
"You can have the rest of it," I tell her, as it nudges her hand.
"I really shouldn't," she shakes her head, but I can see her giving in slightly because of the marshmallows that are still in my mug. Her eyes meet mine, full of concern, "Did you not like yours? Was it not nice?"
"It was very nice," I try to say convincingly, but there was only so much convincing you could do when you don't like hot chocolate.
She sucks her lips into her mouth, staring down at it pensively.
"I'll take one sip," she concedes finally, picking my mug up, "and you can have it back."
I watch her lift the mug to her lips-
- and then she puts her mouth on the exact spot that I took a sip from.
Oh.
Don't fucking blush.
Do not be a weak bitch. Pretend like you don't notice it. That was not a fucking indirect kiss, no-
"It tastes the same," she comments, staring down at it- completely oblivious to me being flustered.
I clear my throat. "Finish it."
Her face pinches. "I'd feel bad if I finished your drink too."
"Tell you what," I drum my fingers on the table, doing my absolute hardest to ignore the flustered feeling, "I'd be happier with you finishing the drink than drinking it on my own."
She tilts her head at me. And like a dumb puppy I imitate the action.
"Are you sure?"
I give her a flat look.
"Fine, fine, fine," she shakes her head at me, but I can see the small grateful smile that she hides behind the mug. A part of the reason I insisted was that I knew she felt terrible about finishing her plate at lunch because of that stupid bitch and I knew she was hungry right now.
"I don't want another rock as payment for the hot chocolate," I lie through my teeth. I carried both those rocks that she gave me everywhere like a lovesick idiot.
She shakes her head at me, but I can tell she's still holding back a smile. "I was already thinking about it."
"Damn it."
"One, two, three- turn. One, two, three-"
I wince as she stubs her toe and lets out a small hiss.
"Isn't it the other way round?" I mutter, with a small frown.
"It is?" her face falls, and it makes me feel horrible for even telling her she was doing it wrong, "Oh no, I've been practicing it this way the whole time."
"It's three steps to the left first," I tell her gently, "then two turns, not one."
She sighs, running a hand down her face. We were at her place since she had invited me in after I walked her home. I was trying not to think about how she held my hand on her own the whole way here, or how her face had gone all timid when she asked if I'd like to come in, and then brightened when I said yes. I was such a goner, it was pathetic.
There's a small pause, and then she lifts her hand off- giving me a curious look.
"Wait, you know it?" she asks quietly.
I shrug, leaning back into her couch. "I've been working on the background music for that part. I have a basic idea of the beats and steps."
That was partially true.
I knew the steps. Not just because of the beats- but because she had been gushing about being a background fairy since the first day because she was very excited for the play this time.
"This is the most fun I've had," she had told me happily on one of the days, "Even though I mess up an awful lot and annoy Reed. I never thought I'd want to be a character but now, I'd probably sob if they took the role away from me- this is a dream. I get to dress up like a fairy too !"
So yes, I did watch all her practices- and while I did glare at her partner less because he very pointedly told me the other day that he had no interest in her and wouldn't any time in the future- I had watched it, or rather her enough to know the steps even if she was messing up.
She lets out a small frustrated huff. "I'm terrible at this. You aren't even a part of it, and you know the steps."
I stare at her for a long moment before I stand up, holding my hand out.
"Do it with me," I say, taking a step in her direction.
Her eyes go wide. "What?"
My heart was starting to hammer against my chest a little harder than before and my nerves were threatening to make me stumble on my words again, but I push it away. Bravery, I tell myself firmly.
"Practice it with me," I say, and even to my own ears, my voice sounds a little hoarser than before.
Her lips part and I can see color flood into her cheeks.
Then very slowly, she lifts her hand and presses her hand against mine, stepping closer.
"There," I say, and maybe it's the proximity- maybe it's her, but my voice is much deeper than before, "Steps are either in groups of three, or sequences of three, two, and one."
She nods, glancing at me through the corner of her eyes, through her lashes.
"It alternates between the two," I add, "and you always start with the left side of the step. Every fifth step has some variation of a turn. A pattern, see?"
There's a very sincere expression of concentration on her face as she considers my words before she nods. "I see it."
I have to hold back a laugh because of how cute it is. "Mhmm. Pretend you're a character in a daydream."
Her eyes widen with an excited gleam. "Like a fairy?"
"You are a fairy," I tell her firmly with a nod, "Do the whole sequence like you're one."
She gives me a deer-in-headlights look as my hand curls around her waist and I guide hers onto my shoulder.
"What if I step on your toes?" she asks me nervously.
"Don't worry about it for now," I press a palm against hers looking down at her, "really think about it- wings, pixie dust, and all-and do your thing. I'll help if you mess up."
She only stares at me wide-eyed for a good minute, and I'm almost afraid I said the wrong thing until her lips curve. Thank fuck.
"You're a gem," she tells me softly, tightening her grip on my hand.
My heart flutters stupidly. "Not like the rock you gave me then, hmm?"
Her smile widens and she hits my chest gently. "Shut up."
And as she starts the sequence with me, I can't help but think that the ultimate realization of love isn't just scary. Because the feeling of freefall isn't just terrifying, it's exhilarating. Like flying without worrying about gravity or the fall.
aha bet y'all didn't see this coming. (it's shorter than usual- but extending the end of the chapter seemed like a drag idk?? If I edit it, I'll republish it so everyone knows if there's something new) now I'll see you lot after a month bye x (don't forget to vote and comment + point out errors if you spot 'em)