Harper
Her hand in his as he pulls her up is the greatest indicator that their emotions have not broken them apart, that they can still trust one another even with the tangled knots they've begun to untie still wrapped around them. He doesn't consider pulling away even when she keeps her hand in his. It's strangely demure; no intertwined fingers or idle thumbs tracing patterns over the other's skin. But it feels solid in a way he takes comfort in as Maea leads him down overgrown pathways to the orchard beyond.
It's grander than he expected even without the careful tending of a farmer's oversight. Quite literally fruitful. The scent hangs sweet and oppressive in the air, cut only by the early fruit lying discarded at the bases of the trees. It makes his stomach pang with hunger.
Maea must somehow be able to tell, or her timing is cosmically perfect because she plucks one and holds it out to him. Harper takes it in hand trustingly before she has even finished her sentence. Biting into it, he relishes the slightly less sweet taste, and grimace-grins sheepishly as the juice trails down his chin and forces him to use the back of the hand holding the apple to wipe it away. Once he's swallowed, he hums appreciatively. "I'm addicted to sweet things, but I always liked the sourest apples for some reason. But this is really good!" More organic than anything available in grocery stores in his modern era, when most of the world had been paved over by concrete and skyscrapers. He takes another bite just to prove he means it, smiling past the motion of his jaw working as he chews as he holds out the apple near Maea's own lips, encouraging her to take a bite from the same fruit he still holds.
It's grander than he expected even without the careful tending of a farmer's oversight. Quite literally fruitful. The scent hangs sweet and oppressive in the air, cut only by the early fruit lying discarded at the bases of the trees. It makes his stomach pang with hunger.
Maea must somehow be able to tell, or her timing is cosmically perfect because she plucks one and holds it out to him. Harper takes it in hand trustingly before she has even finished her sentence. Biting into it, he relishes the slightly less sweet taste, and grimace-grins sheepishly as the juice trails down his chin and forces him to use the back of the hand holding the apple to wipe it away. Once he's swallowed, he hums appreciatively. "I'm addicted to sweet things, but I always liked the sourest apples for some reason. But this is really good!" More organic than anything available in grocery stores in his modern era, when most of the world had been paved over by concrete and skyscrapers. He takes another bite just to prove he means it, smiling past the motion of his jaw working as he chews as he holds out the apple near Maea's own lips, encouraging her to take a bite from the same fruit he still holds.
I cut my teeth on second-hand sentiments
you can't trust a thing I say
you can't trust a thing I say
