Y/N HAS LEARNED TO MOURN WHAT SHE HAD NEVER ONCE LAID HER HANDS ON.
Nestled within the frayed edges of her torn notebook were the curves of her handwriting which she silently took pride in. The fashion of each loop and hook laid out with a slight tilt made her feel slightly more comforted in the blizzards of Snezhnaya. If Y/N could not confine herself in conversation, she would write her woes and wonders on paper under the curtains of night. Thus, as Y/N sprawled herself over the sheets of paper, her jaw tightened slightly.
Tonight was the night, after all.
After the visit from the Fatui, much of Cheklain grew more dreary than it already was. The souls of the throng dampened as children were swept away like dust flying off shelves. Parents mourned the loss as if their death had already occurred long before it even started.
Consequently, Y/N's class size was reduced by half. The remaining children hung with the reminder of friends torn asunder as their weakness became their only redeeming quality.
Thus, unable to stand the scent of despair, Y/N orchestrated a play for the children to act in.
As absurd as it sounded, the town opted not to waste their energy in objection. Rather, they remained silent and indifferent. Nevertheless, both shared the distinct truth that swelled in their chest: it was all but a distraction for the forsaken children whose minds brimmed with scattered truths.
The play was seemingly simple, comprised of only a handful of characters crafted by Y/N's assiduous hands. In essence, the plot of the play was a coupled copy of any children's book or novel. However, behind the fictional curtain that silently eased the applaud, a message unfolded itself like paper cranes being shot down from the sky.
The 'stage' in which the children were intended to perform would not be considered a stage at all. In fact, it was merely the classroom, its desks pushed to the sides as a dozen chairs were keenly set in rows. A large velvet cloth strung by the edges and hung as a background despite the evident patches and loosened strings. However, the vehemence efforts of Y/N would not go in vain as her hands currently cut stars from scrap fabric: intended to act as additional props for a dead stage.
"The children will like the play," voiced Capitano, who gingerly stepped into the classroom, "No doubt it will get their mind off of the Fatui."
Y/N merely nodded, her eyes burning into the fabric as she hastened her cutting: the dull scissors providing little aid.
Despite her silence, Capitano continues, gradually approaching her, "Do you need help?"
Y/N scoffs, suppressing a snide smirk, "You? Arts and crafts? You must be delirious Captain."
'Only for you.'
Capitano shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest as he looms over you, "Tonight is the play. And seeing how much fabric is left... it looks like you need help," He swiftly grabs a spare chair from the side, comically far too small for a teen like himself.
Y/N sighs, shaking her head before remarking, "It won't be my fault the stars look like circles by the time we're done," she then smoothly reaches for the pair of spare scissors, nonchalantly handing them to him. "Since you came 'late' I'll give you the smaller pair."
Capitano simply chuckles, his slender hands artfully taking the scissors as he silently follows suit. Cutting stars from the spare patches of fabric absent struggle or dispute.
On the contrary, Y/N found her mind wandering; stealing occasional glances at Capitano who did not once bat an eye. His hands artfully manipulated the scissors like his own; seemingly clipping and refining the scum piece of fabric like a clean, satisfying cut of the universe. Despite the growing sturdiness of his transitioning figure, Capitano treated the petite piece of cloth like the finest of silks. The 'Captain's' utmost care radiated through the room with each precise cut and delicate fold.
'Who knew he could achieve such grace.' Remarked Y/N under the mask of indifference. Thoughts conjuring themselves anew.
It was as if Capitano was abruptly taught the fashions of the world. Even the manner of his speech seemingly grew all the more eloquent and frank. He no longer buried his head behind a bush of bashful remarks as he did as a child despite being close in age. The plump and mellow tone of his face chipped away as the stars carved a statue fit for exhibition. From the sharpness of his jaw to his potent cadence, it felt as if he was drifting farther than Y/N's own eyes could take her.
They were once mere children, huddled amongst a dimming fire as they spoke of grandeur and endless food. Such images engrained themselves into Y/N's head like a prayer or promise that was based on neither fact nor folly. It was, as they say, a blink, and the years flutter by like a simple turn of a page. Then, you shall learn to stand amongst friends whose names are those of strangers.
Perhaps it was the rotting wish of a withering star to preserve a plain of euthymia in which one does not alter despite the ticking of time. However, that is a wish that even the universe would fail to grant, time and time again.
"Are you done with your stack?" Inquired Capitano whose stack of cloth seemingly vanished.
Y/N blinks, drawing back to the bitterness of the cold, "Oh, I'm almost done. I have ruffly five left."
Capitano nods plainly. There is a prompt silence, however, it is swiftly overturned when Capitano remarks in a sincere tone of curiosity, his placid eyes gleaming slightly, "I see you are wearing the scarf."
Y/N abruptly pauses her cutting as her mind wanders to the sensations of the broad scarf keenly wrapped around her neck leading up to a bit of her chin. The scarf possessed the scent of coal fires, the fragments of dusty books and chalk dust. In contrast to Y/N's garments, the scarf was seemingly fresh. Each stitch was firmly linked together while the scarf was as black as a midnight sky. In addition, fringe was to be found on the ends along with a peculiar stitch of a name in emerald green.
To be more specific, the name that was assiduously stitched in poised cursive was 'L/N'.
"Yes, I am clearly wearing the scarf," remarked Y/N in a tone of chaff sarcasm, not bothering to spare him a glance, "Considering you did give it to me..." Y/N's voice wanders before she piqued exuberantly, "Where did you find the scarf anyways?"
Capitano emits a prompt baritone chuckle before he stands up, eyes lingering a touch longer than they should as Y/N now glances his way, "That, is a secret."
Y/N sighs, admitting to a definite defeat. She knew Capitano- whatever secrets were nestled in his chest like a beating yet caged animal remained there: steadfast and voiceless amidst his tactful endeavours. Nevertheless, with that potent fact, Y/N has never once failed to artfully lock the gates of his chest.
"Sure..." replied Y/N dubiously, setting her scissors aside, "Where are you going now?" she paused before continuing with an air of disquiet, "It's getting late."
Capitano simply brushes her remarks aside as he voices nonchalantly, "I need to head out on for the night... It is simple truly."
Y/N raises an eyebrow in both disdain and further doubt. Thus, she springs up from her seat, disregarding the last few remnants of work as she finds herself by his side. The stack of stars silently fell in response. "Perhaps... you could use a partner," she tilts her head up to him, the spark of youth flickering alive like a giddy rush of bliss.
"And what about--"
Y/N instinctively sends him a strained smile in an interjection, "Don't worry about the play, I have everything worked out."
Capitano pauses; rummaging for a witty reply. However, he heaves a warm sigh whilst a tender smile grows on his lips: seemingly delicate like a feather gliding down to the snow-blanketed Earth. "Alright then."
Thus, the two depart into a swirl of snowflakes as the moon grows closer to kissing the Earth, a trail of stardust behind each footprint. Y/N's scarf was wrapped gingerly around her neck as she exhaled a plum of silver breath; gazing into a sea of dreams, all too occupied to notice his eyes as he gazed at his star.
The one standing next to him.
NOTES FROM KYLE !
What a chapter.
Btw, TY ALL SM FOR THE SUPPORT I NEVER WOULD HAVE THOUGHT THIS BOOK WOULD GAIN THIS AMOUNT OF TRACTION.