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Eda experimentally turns the sound down another notch. The crystal ball is barely understandable anymore, just a background noise. She hopes it’s quiet enough that any sudden yelling or shouting won’t wake the curled-up person on the couch.
Looking down on Raine, surrounded by copies of sheet music from the human realm, by books about human musical theory, she can’t help but feel happy for them, for the way another world has been opened up to them after the win against Belos just a few weeks ago. They’re even resting their head on top of their own notebook.
She doesn’t know why they turned on the crystal ball, but the choice of channel might mean they turned on the news and fell asleep to that.
They’re curled into themself, their vest draped over their body. She can see a stripe of bare skin on their back.
Raine shivers, pulls the vest a bit more in place, and makes a grumbly-whimpering noise. As much as they’re trying to make themself smaller, there’s just no way that little bit of cloth will keep them warm.
A sudden wave of affection pools in her stomach. They are so strong, so independent, that it’s easy to forget that they too are just a witch and can be vulnerable like that. It feels almost unbelievable that the two of them are back to this, that after everything that happened, Raine is trusting her enough to crash on her couch like that.
They’re still shivering, and even though it’s not bad enough to wake them up, it hurts her heart.
If they were awake, she’d lean down now, over the arm of the couch, kiss their ear, then along their jaw. They’d turn around, granting access to their lips, and she’d climb over the back of the couch, and they’d laugh and reach for her and she’d stifle the laughter with her mouth–
She swallows.
Picks up the blanket from the armchair and slowly drapes it over their body. It’s easy to cover them, curled into fetal position like that.
Raine makes a tiny, confused sound. They still for a long moment before relaxing. “Remote…?”
“Here,” she whispers, laying it on the couch in front of them.
Raine hums and pulls it under the blanket, cuddling it against their chest. “Thanks.” The word is barely audible, but the next ones she’d understand anywhere: “Love you.”
Her mouth falls open in surprise at hearing it again. They have only said the words once, and it took all she had to answer in kind then.
It’s only obvious they’d say it again at some point. But, but, she hasn’t felt ready yet. And when she thought about saying it, she never realised how devastating hearing it from their mouth would be. They don’t have what they had all those years ago, not yet. It feels unfair to call this love, as if she’s minimising the feelings she had as a younger woman.
Raine doesn’t move or talk any more, doesn’t do anything but lie there and hold all her emotions.
It almost feels like they reached into her chest and squeezed her heart.
It’s only three words. She tries to say it. Nothing comes out.
Seconds pass, the only sound Raine’s even breathing. They can’t even hear her, no matter what she says.
Does she – is she able to – can she say them truthfully right now? Are they there again? Is it even fair to say it to someone who’s clearly asleep? Maybe it’s good to say it now, to practice telling them?
“I love you, too,” she finally says into the quiet room, the words feeling mechanical to her, like a debt incurred.
Sewing has always been a hassle, but doing it with one hand has turned it into a whole ordeal. Using her leg as a backdrop means that sometimes, she sews her work to the knee of her trousers, and has to undo all her work. Eda sighs loudly, tries to at least uncurl from her crouched position, and is rewarded with a sharp sting in her lower back.
This is just one of the things she does for the people she lo– lets into their life. She’s used to mending her clothes, doing it for Raine is only logical. It feels like the two of them have been doing a lot for each other these last few weeks, a slow dance of getting closer again. And Raine has made it so obvious how they feel, as if this is just a fact and not a promise to keep up for the rest of their lives. They say the words that scratch through her throat every time with a certainty as if their meaning is something to be freely given, not earned.
She knows they wouldn’t approve of her hurting her back like this. It just feels such a hassle to listen to her body and not just curl up somewhere, face centimetres from her work because she didn’t think to go somewhere with enough light.
It does provide a modicum of entertainment, though, because apparently she isn’t visible to someone coming into the room. Raine storms in, the familiar notebook clutched in one hand, and it is funny to watch them in silence – until she notices their demeanor.
They slide down the door, knees up to their chest for a very different reason than her, clutching the notebook ever harder. With a thunk that makes her flinch, they let their head fall back against the wood. She opens her mouth to offer help with whatev– but stops herself at the sudden movement when they lift the prepared speech.
For a second, it looks as if they are going to throw it clear across the room. Then, Raine drops it on the floor next to them with a despondent sound. She can only just barely make out the whispered words: “I wish I could run away.”
Well, that is enough of her watching them in silence. “We can run away together,” Eda offers, ignoring their flinch at her sudden appearance. “Or, I could always carry you there if your legs are unwilling to cooperate.”
They give her a weak smile, pat the paper on the floor next to them. “They wouldn’t even let you close to the stage. And it’s not like you could carry me.”
“Excuse you? I’m strong! I could carry you anywhere!”
But Raine only chuckles weakly. “You’re cute.” And then, they’re taking off their glasses, pressing the other hand against their eyes, and her heart hurts with empathy. “I– I’m sorry. It’s just a speech. I know I’m being… ridi…” The break in their voice never quite comes, and instead, they heave a deep sigh. “I know it’s ridiculous.”
“Hey,” she mumbles, steps over and sits down next to them. “This isn’t ridiculous.”
“Isn’t it?” Raine asks with a sudden uptick in volume. “This is my pet project! I wrote the outline! I’m prepared for counterarguments. I know everything by heart.” They’re talking in her direction, but can’t even look her in the eyes. “There’s no reason to be scared of giving a speech I know I can ace.”
Slowly, Eda dares touch their chin with two fingers, without any real pressure, just to nudge them to look at her. “I’m sorry. It’s unfair. And I don’t think it’s anything but brave that you’re still willing to do it.”
Their eyes meet, the beginning of a wobbly smile on Raine’s face. And oh Titan, she hates this for them. The way the logical part of their brain fights the anxiety, leading only to more self-recrimination. If there was anything she could do for them, she’d do it in a heartbeat.
“It won’t go away on its own,” she mumbles, softly pressing a kiss against their cheekbone the second before they blink and a drop washes it away. “But I’ll be with you for every step you want me to be.”
They chuckle wetly, hands wringing and eyes flitting around the room for a distraction. “What were you even doing here?”
“I was mending your vest.” She gestures towards her knee, the fabric still connected to her trousers with neat stitches she’ll have to undo. And she’ll hate it, but she’ll do it.
Raine stares at it in puzzlement for a few seconds, forehead slowly losing its furrows. “Oh Eda, I’m not sure that one is worth saving. I can buy–”
“Well, I like this vest, and I want you to continue wearing it.” The words feel almost a bit childish when she forces them out. Money has been an issue for so long that sometimes, it’s hard to remember that she doesn’t have to save every last piece of clothing.
Raine’s face loses the last vestiges of pain and a small smile blossoms instead. “Then I’ll wear it and you’ll really be with me every step of the way. Thank you. I… I love it. It makes me feel loved.”
There they go again, freely professing their love for something. Eda scoffs. ‘It’s just clothes, don’t work yourself up,’ is at the tip of her tongue, but she can’t really say it when they look at her like that.
Raine’s eyes are still a bit shiny, but the blush on their face is no longer from embarrassment, and the way their lips part looks like nothing less than fascination.
Like she hung the moon, like she did something no one else would ever do for them. Like they don’t deserve it. Just like she doesn’t deserve…
Of course the anxiety doesn’t make them any less. Maybe being afraid of saying it out loud is just like that – irrational, yet nothing to be embarrassed about. And really, what is there to fear when they are giving her this look?
“Good,” she pushes out, tests the feeling of this word in her throat. It’s okay. She can do the next ones, too.. “Because I love you.”
And Raine smiles again, that secret smile that’s reserved for her alone, and softly puts a hand on her cheek to pull her closer.
“Tissue.”
Eda takes the offer with a grunted thanks, her hand just as uncoordinated as Raine’s. Their hand falls away and they turn to pull one more out of the box to get themself cleaned up.
She’s still a bit dazed, trying to shake the tissue open, staring when it flutters down onto her chest while she’s still holding it. Oh. It’s two. They gave her two.
Her eyes stay fixed on the second tissue while she uses the first one, presses her legs together around it. The idea is there, the only question is how silly…
Raine lets themself fall onto their back next to her, mumbling under their breath and immediately putting one leg over hers, seeking touch like usual in a way that’s supposed to read casual and obnoxious. They look at her, clearly still half out of it, a dopey smile on their face.
Eda smirks at them. “You know what that is?” She pulls the tissue further over her breast, using the stump of her other arm to slightly wiggle it from behind.
That gets their attention. There’s very little that could draw them away once they’ve zoomed in on her chest. Raine’s eyes track the motion, a very focused look on their face. It looks ridiculous when their hair is standing in all directions, no glasses on their nose and their eyes squinting to see better. “No,” they finally admit in the voice of a scholar being confronted with new, never before seen testimonies, all too eager to understand.
“It’s a booohoob!” Eda claims, ensuring that her voice carries the proper spookiness reserved for a ghost made out of tissue paper.
Their eyes snap from her breast to her face, then back down. The first laugh shakes their whole body, an almost alarming jerk next to her, and then they collapse into breathless giggles for a minute, finally just rolling around and resting their head on her pillow. She can still feel the warm gusts of their suppressed laughter against the side of her face when they put out a hand and poke her breast, causing it to jiggle again.
“Booohoob,” they repeat, almost reverently, before snickering again and pressing a kiss to the tip of her ear. “That’s why I love you, Calamity.”
Eda tries to save the situation from becoming mushy by looking for something clever like ‘I’m glad you love my spooky boobs’, but nothing really works, and they’re already occupied with kissing her temple, again and again, another hand coming up to stroke her face. Finally, she gives in: “Love you too, Rainestorm.”