At his delicate touch, her gaze suddenly glances upwards with modest surprise. It’s only a second between his movement and his speech, but it feels like an eternity. An eternity of studying each minuscule change, of letting worrying infect her stomach like the plague, of wondering what on earth might slip out next if he didn’t say something soon. Speak quickly, hurry yourself, please! Each thought runs rampant with an inability to be stopped.
And then it comes, a cooling river against a scorching heat. She exhales ( since when hadn’t she been breathing? ) and it comes with the same audible hiss of evaporating water. Relief floods her and sweeps anxiety away with an ocean’s current and a stream of laughter joins her dizzy breath.
“ Gods, I thought—- almost, almost thought —— you were going to leave. ” Almost? She’s no better a liar than she was in school. A hand rises over her mouth, attempting to feebly cover the embarrassment that still lingers. Her ears still burn despite feeling like she’s floating under the surface of a swimming pool ; they might stay that way for a while, especially as he confessed he liked it. He liked it? Oh no, more fluster laughter appears, so much so that she has to slip her fingers through his to ground herself again. “ I don’t ——- I mean, it’s not normal for me to just———- ”
This hasn’t gotten any easier since their departure. Justifying her actions or attempting to give him her heart through simple words that might seem like nothing to anyone else - she still cringes trying to manoeuvre social situations, to keep the balance right so she doesn’t expose too much of the Rapunzel who might drive others away. He’s always, always been good with that, to not show if she’s being strange or unusual, but even now she worries about it. He’s all grown-up and fancy now, but still the same. Maybe he’ll secretly laugh at her flustering while putting on a smile. No, that’s not Cas - is it?
Except, whatever thoughts might pass through her mind, this is definitely Cas. The spark of a smug teenager still rests on his lips and it sends her heart back to the beginning of their end, when she knew she was leaving Gothel and she had thought there was a chance of them ending up together, before she had realised she’d have no where to go except the other side of the country. Before she’d realised her quest for freedom from Gothel would be the end of that freedom she could only get from him.
“ I knew there was definitely a reason I liked you in high school. ” She finally manages to say, giggles gone and leaving only a heartfelt smile. “ You were always like this too. I mean, not many people would let someone ramble like that without giving them a fight. Much less enjoy it. ”
He cannot help the way he chuckles softly when she lies to him. She lies not to be convincing –– she never did. He, of all people, could spot her lies as quickly as an eagle spots a mouse. She had tells that never grew old. But the way she lies has always been charming. She corrects herself, and says these things only to appear less against-the-grain than she actually is. Odd how he loved such the simple things about her. Her small cover ups, her bashful blinks, her red-tipped ears. It’s all making his heart beg to be released from it’s ribcage container
❝ Wasn’t normal. ❞ He corrects her gently, that smile resting on his features brightening for a moment. Lips hang open, his eyes sparkling with an amazement that had once been a more rare occurrence. But he says nothing more, letting her hand slide into his he clasps it. Gentle hands. They lack bruises of purple and cuts of deep crimson. No exposed and peeled skin from throwing fists or getting into a scuffle. Clean hands. Clean, soft, well taken care of. Perhaps it’s a testament to his own subtle ways of covering up. He covers his past of broken and hurt hands with smooth peachy creams and well tended nails. He doesn't bare the claws he once did, nor the blood of that he’s once worn.
His act of covering up had always been a little more practiced. But he offers his hand to her knowing that she would spot the difference. Knowing that she had held his hand even when it meant he’d bleed all over her, or wince because of the way fingers squeezed against bruised knuckles.
He looks at their hands as a new silence pans between them. Something sits in the air. They know of each other’s hearts, but have no bravery to confess it. Rapunzel’s gentle words make Caspian’s chest tighten. She felt it too, didn’t she? In the back of his mind he always knew. He had a feeling that her heart wanted his as much as his wanted hers. Funny how life was so complicated back then. Gothel had made him scared to confess –– and he’d only met her once. It hadn’t been a pretty meeting either. He didn’t want her to suffer because of his heart’s rampant wants. But her words remind him of how much he loved her. Those emotions flood him again, and he cannot help but think... Things are still complicated. This time, it’s his life that holds too much.
❝ I liked passion. ❞ His gaze lifts away from their hands. His thumb brushes over her knuckles. ❝ I still do. Even when you were holding everything back, I could still see that in you. ❞ He licks his lips, his gaze flickering down and away, back to their hands. With a steady inhale he tilts his head, a smile for the days of old. ❝ I could have listened to you for hours... You always made my heart race and yet I’d sit there until it gave out just listening to you talk. ❞ Romance was spun in the way teenagers never could.
He chuckles a little, voice soft and just above a whisper. ❝ Some things don’t change. ❞ He looks up again, golden eyes sparkling, hand refusing to let hers go. ❝ Least of all... How much I missed you. ❞ She was sitting across him now and yet, he still missed her. He wanted things his teenage heart had wanted. How hard had he worked to push those emotions away? Things were complicated. They had always been for him. But now there wasn’t a Gothel looming over her shoulder. His daughter was there, hugging his knees.
