EVEREST
"That’s—thank you," Ever says, quiet but deeply meant, the corners of his mouth twitching like the shape of a real smile is something he’s still getting used to wearing. His fingers fidget once, brushing his palm, and then still. "As soon as Mateo gave it to me, I started wondering how to tell you." His eyes flicker to her, then away again, like light glancing off water.
"I kept going back and forth. I thought maybe a letter would give you time to...absorb it? To not feel pressured." He huffs softly. "But I also considered showing up at your door. With flowers. Something... symbolic. But I wasn’t sure which ones would be right. That part kept stalling me." The admission is earnest, if just a touch sheepish. "Something romantic, maybe. If that was still something you’d even want."
Then she agrees to outside and Ever nods, already scanning for the nearest exit—one that doesn’t require them to thread through the densest part of the revelry. Before they start moving, though, he does something that feels small and enormous all at once: he reaches out his hand toward her. Not just to guide her through the press of people, though it will help with that too—but to keep them close. To say without words that she doesn’t have to walk behind or ahead, but beside him, if that's a place she still wants to occupy.
"I kept going back and forth. I thought maybe a letter would give you time to...absorb it? To not feel pressured." He huffs softly. "But I also considered showing up at your door. With flowers. Something... symbolic. But I wasn’t sure which ones would be right. That part kept stalling me." The admission is earnest, if just a touch sheepish. "Something romantic, maybe. If that was still something you’d even want."
Then she agrees to outside and Ever nods, already scanning for the nearest exit—one that doesn’t require them to thread through the densest part of the revelry. Before they start moving, though, he does something that feels small and enormous all at once: he reaches out his hand toward her. Not just to guide her through the press of people, though it will help with that too—but to keep them close. To say without words that she doesn’t have to walk behind or ahead, but beside him, if that's a place she still wants to occupy.
the boards will still creak
the leaves will still die
the leaves will still die
