I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings
The moment he pulls her into his chest, whatever fragile control she has been clinging to gives way, her breath hitching sharply as the sound of it turns into a muffled sniffle against his scarf and jacket. Her hands fumble uselessly at first, fingers curling and uncurling as if they cannot decide whether to wrap around him completely or clutch at the fabric of his coat to anchor herself, and she ends up doing a messy, imperfect version of both, gripping him close with all the coordination she can manage while her shoulders tremble. She presses her face into him as though she could disappear there, the steady solidity of his body the only thing keeping her from folding entirely.
The sob she tries to swallow punches its way halfway out anyway, jolting through her chest and making her whole body jump before she manages to clamp down on it again, and with it comes the cruel, unwanted comparison she hates herself for even thinking. This never would have happened to Jack, her mind whispers mercilessly, because he would have known better than to get so close, would have kept the distance that preserved both ship and spectacle, would have made sure nothing was ruined. He would not have lost control of the situation, would not have let wonder turn reckless, and even if something had gone wrong, he would not have cared the way she does now, which somehow makes it feel worse rather than better. The thought digs in deep, twisting the knife of failure until her chest aches with it.
She pulls back just enough to look up at Kaisel, needing to see his face even as she fears what she might find there, her lashes wet and clumped together as she blinks hard in a losing battle against the tears spilling free. His frog hat is gone, his darkcurls hair sticking up in disheveled defiance, and the sight of him like this, ruffled and real and still here, nearly has a sob rising all over again. She shakes her head faintly, as if she could dislodge the feeling by motion alone, her voice small and unsteady when she speaks. "I just...I wanted it to be perfect," she says, the words catching and thinning as they leave her, because perfection had felt possible for once, something she could build with care and love and planning. "And now it’s—" She cannot finish the sentence, the shape of it collapsing under its own weight as she swallows hard and gives another helpless shake of her head.
Then her eyes widen suddenly, fresh horror blooming across her face as if the night has found one more way to wrong her, and her lower lip trembles before pushing out in a miserable pout as tears well over again. "I didn’t even get to the best part of my hot chocolate," she adds weakly, devastation and absurdity tangling together as her voice cracks, the ruined sweetness somehow becoming the final, unbearable proof that everything has gone wrong all at once.
The sob she tries to swallow punches its way halfway out anyway, jolting through her chest and making her whole body jump before she manages to clamp down on it again, and with it comes the cruel, unwanted comparison she hates herself for even thinking. This never would have happened to Jack, her mind whispers mercilessly, because he would have known better than to get so close, would have kept the distance that preserved both ship and spectacle, would have made sure nothing was ruined. He would not have lost control of the situation, would not have let wonder turn reckless, and even if something had gone wrong, he would not have cared the way she does now, which somehow makes it feel worse rather than better. The thought digs in deep, twisting the knife of failure until her chest aches with it.
She pulls back just enough to look up at Kaisel, needing to see his face even as she fears what she might find there, her lashes wet and clumped together as she blinks hard in a losing battle against the tears spilling free. His frog hat is gone, his dark
Then her eyes widen suddenly, fresh horror blooming across her face as if the night has found one more way to wrong her, and her lower lip trembles before pushing out in a miserable pout as tears well over again. "I didn’t even get to the best part of my hot chocolate," she adds weakly, devastation and absurdity tangling together as her voice cracks, the ruined sweetness somehow becoming the final, unbearable proof that everything has gone wrong all at once.
and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this
