a silent prayer like dreamers do

[lonestxrr]

@gldenthorns​​ X closed. — olivia. location: village square, early morning

The feeling of cold metal under his cheek woke Casey up from his slumber, only to find that he’d crashed on a park bench somewhere in the village. 

“Shit... What time is it?” he asked with the taste of all the previous night’s mulled wine still thick in his mouth. 

[lonestxrr]

@ofcrwns​ X closed. — remy. location: pear festival winter market

They’re at one of the game booths set up by the local villagers. All kinds of pottery and glass bottles were sat on shelves and pedestals at the back of the booth, and before them was a bucket of eight baseballs.

The prize? Well, besides the instant gratification of taking your anger out by breaking a bunch of shit, a Genovian stein with a pear on it. 

“I bet you cain’t hit all of ‘em in one go,” Casey said to the other, handing over the money to the woman who ran the booth for one round. 

[lonestxrr]

@alcsdair​ X closed. — alisdair. location: palace gardens

“Psst... Hey! Pal!”

The instructions had been simple: drop off the produce to the palace kitchens and leave. Also, not to be seen as he was doing it. Just two simple things, really. He’d made deliveries plenty of times before, but this was the first time he’d run into a garden party on the way out. 

Speaking of a way out... 

“You think you could, uhh, help me out here?” Casey called from a dark corner of the palace garden, where his shirt was caught on the decorative fence he’d tried to escape over. 

[lonestxrr]

@gllded​ X closed. — madeline. location: pear festival, tree lighting.

He’s had just enough mulled wine to keep him warm, bring some color to his face, and make him a little too sociable (as if he wasn’t already). He’d been dragged along to the village square for a promised tree lighting ceremony by a few of his coworkers, but all the standing around was beginning to bore him. 

He was looking at the crowd around him, smiling, when he came across a familiar face. 

“Shoooooot.” Casey gave a long whistle. “I know you. Yer that gal on the internet, ain’t you? What do they call that, again?” He stops to think. “An influencer! I seen you on there with all those promos. Good for you, gal.”  

[lonestxrr]

@frcscrs​​ X closed. — fraser. location: pear festival, night.

Casey was on his way back to his truck to head home when he heard a noise coming from the alley around one of Genovia’s lesser-known pubs. Maybe if he’d seen a horror movie or two in his life he’d know better than to follow a strange sound in the night, but horror was never his genre. 

“What the heck?” he muttered to himself as he found a dark figure stumbling around the alley. Looked like just another drunk, but one never knows. “You doin’ alright there, brother? Uhh... est-see tu bee-en?” 

[lonestxrr]

@miistxkes​ X closed. — bas. location: pear festival, night.

"Well I’ll be damned...” Casey peered through in the dark to see if that really was who he thought he’d seen walking through the village’s winter market. Once he knew it was, Casey almost tipped over his mulled wine as he ran from the table of his colleagues to greet his old friend. 

“Bas Artois, you beautiful sunovabitch!” Casey pats the other on the shoulder to grab his attentions. “How the heck are ya!?” 

[lonestxrr]

gxldlxghts‌:

“Ah, come on, you know the sparkly bits were your favorite part.”

Scarlett shoves her hands deep into the pockets of her coat for the explicit purpose of not nervously fiddling with them, her brows raising expectantly as he turned around and faced her.

How much has she thought about him in the last four years? Well, right after he left – constantly. For pretty much a year, give or take (but most likely give) a few months.  It tapered off a little bit after that; partially due to training kicking up, but mostly for self-preservation.  It wasn’t any good to have a head full of a boy who probably wasn’t going to come back and probably didn’t see her that way to begin with.

But still, whenever she heard the rattle of an old truck muffler or certain old songs, or looked up at the stars on a clear summer night…

Yeah, she thought of him.

“Sometimes is slightly more often than occasionally, almost frequently,” she says, the lilt in her voice boardering the line of playful and flat out flirtatious.

“Why? You miss me or something?”

Casey stopped dead in his backwards tracks. 

He didn’t know what that all meant since his heart was so far up this throat it kept him from thinking straight, but it sounded enough like a ‘yes’ for him to be satisfied with the answer. As for her question... well... If the playlist on his Spotify account with an emoji of an ice skate instead of her name had anything to say about it, it would mention how he’d listened to that damn walkman she’d given him so often that the thing damn near fell apart. One last listen was enough for him to write down the track listing to transfer to the digital world. Even though it didn’t work anymore, the walkman and the only tape it ever played were tucked away in his childhood room back in Texas. 

“Maybe,” he cooed. “Maybe, you know, if you were missin’ me then I was missin’ you too. Sometimes, often, or frequently."

[lonestxrr]

gxldlxghts‌:

“I’m surprised you remember that,” she chuckles, falling into step with him as they went in the direction of the barn, following his lead.  

Scarlett looks down at her outfit as he mentions it, smiling somewhat proudly at the compliment. “Thanks, I made an effort,”  she says, the outfit of a floral dress, scarf, and matching jacket a far cry from the usual leggings and oversized sweaters she had worn back when she was training in Quebec that summer. When you were training over five hours a day every day, comfort and functionality usually trumped looking stylish and cute.

“Hey, I wore jeans….once,” Scarlett jokes as they walk along, the smile slipping briefly from her face as she slowly shakes her head. 

“Nah, I don’t think it’s weird, I think about it too, sometimes…”

Well, that was definitely weird to say…

“--Oh! Don’t get me wrong, I thought you looked pretty ‘n all back then, too.” Casey looked everywhere except for at her. “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress that wasn’t covered in all those sparkly bits.”

It was silly to be acting so coy and modest. He knew that, and yet he still felt as if there was some kind of line to toe. Would it really have been so bad to cross it? The fear of rejection and, God forbid, offending her in some way were the only things holding him back. The fears were strong, but he’d be damned if he hadn’t spent all that time wondering what could have been for nought. 

“Oh yeah?” He turned around, walking backwards in front of Scarlett to look at her with curiosity in his arched brows. “How, uhh... How often is sometimes?” 

[lonestxrr]

gxldlxghts‌:

Scarlett lets out a squeal of laughter, the sound ringing through the empty grove of trees as she turns her body enough that her shoulder takes the brunt of the snowballs impact, snow scattering across her coat and into her hair as it breaks apart.

Grinning at his words, she takes off her hat,  sweeping into a low curtsy as she had done at the conclusion of countless skating performances. She then shakes out her hair, trying to rid herself of the snow that had fallen into it.

“I mean, I’d settle for kicking your ass in a snowball fight,” she teases, a sly smile on her lips as she pulls her hat back on. “But seeing as it’s my first date and you went to so much trouble planning it, it’d be unfair not to see it through…”

“That’s some big talk for a gal who once compared her fightin’ skills to that of a disturbed duck, if I remember correctly.” Casey shook his head, chuckling, as he started in the direction of the barn. Though not before watching her for a moment and wondering what the Hell this was. Sure it was a date, but there had been too much left unsaid over the years since the summer he worked in Quebec. Christ Casey, he thought to himself, just flat out ask her what this is. 

He silently told himself to shut up. 

“Your hair looks real nice by the way,” he said quietly. “Your whole getup does. Y’know, I think I could count on one hand how many times I’ve seen you in something that wasn’t a skating outfit.” It’s only when Casey heard the words that he realized what a weird thing it was to say. So much for smalltalk. “Sorry, is that weird? I’m just thinkin’ about all those times I’d drive you to and from the rink, is all...”  

[lonestxrr]

gxldlxghts‌:

“Right,” she repeats, giving the stocking hat on her head another tug as the silence fell briefly between them, placing her hands on her hips. 

She tilts her head to the side as he starts to speak, a smile that begins at the corner of her mouth spreads across her lips the more that he speaks. 

“Casey Puckett,” she growls, reaching down into the snow swiftly and compacting it between between her hands before launching it at his torso with a snort of laughter . 

“Why don’t you just go ahead and and call me a pain in the ass, eh? It would saved you a couple of breaths!”

“Well if I wasn’t gonna before I sure will now, Scarlett Dupre!” Casey brushed the snow off the front of his coat and leaned down to grab a handful of snow, packing it into a ball between his hands. “You, lil’ miss, are a real pain in the ass,” he said through his teeth and tossed the snowball, hitting her on her shoulder. 

“Now do you wanna keep throwin’ snowballs at me or are you gonna let me take you on the rest of this date?” 

[lonestxrr]

CAN I HELP YOU WITH SOMETHIN’?

[lonestxrr]

gxldlxghts‌:

“When have I ever lied to you?” she points out, the snow crunching beneath her boots as she takes a couple steps past him before she realized he’d stopped, turning back to look at him. Sure, she’d left about a hundred things unsaid to him, but she’d never lied. 

“It’s not exactly something I’d go around declaring if it wasn’t true, it doesn’t really rack me up any ‘cool points’ to be bragging about it,” she explains with a soft laugh as her fingers reach up to tug nervously on the brim of her hat, adjusting it over her hair. When he asks how it’s possible, she limply shrugs. 

“I don’t know, maybe it just seemed like there wasn’t time for it – you know, the skating, the home schooling, the issue of the whole heart thing tends to freak people out when they hear about it…” And given the fuss the media liked to make of it, calling her the ‘Miracle on Ice’ at her last Olympic run, the chances of people not hearing about it were few and far between. 

She looks at him and is quiet for a moment, her soft sigh coming from her lips in a puff in the cold air. 

“It’s not like I’ve never been interested in anybody…”

“Right,” he said. It was the only thing he could think to say in the moment as he slowly twisted the toe of his boot into the snow beneath him. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel bad about the situation. His eyes followed her hands as they fidgeted with the brim of her hat, then fell to the wisp of breath that left her lips. 

“Well, it’s probably for the best that this is your first one.” Casey’s tone was soft as he spoke, and slowly turned lighthearted. “I don’t know if anyone could really handle you on a one-on-one basis, y’know. You can be real unpredictable... and demaaanding... and Lord knows you won’t hesitate to cut someone up---Seein’ as how I got the previous experience that makes me the best man for the job.”

[lonestxrr]

gxldlxghts‌:

“It might surprise you to find out that there actually aren’t a lot of princes chasing after figure skaters…” Scarlett informs him with a chuckle, her eyes glancing upwards briefly to admire the lights as they walked along the path. “I mean, the occasional speed skater or hockey player, sure, but they figure out pretty quick that we’re more trouble than what we’re worth.”

Her gaze falls back downwards to the snow a moment, noticing his hands and they way they fidget and it takes more than a couple of spare ounces of restraint to keep herself from grabbing one just for the sake of giving him the relief of having something to do with them.

“I mean, for what it’s worth, you’re way braver than I am,” she offers to him, nudging her hip into his as they walk. “If I’d put my name up for a date and had to wait on people to bid on me I’d have a heart attack. I don’t even know if I could come up with a decent idea. I’ve never been on a real date before. Well, before this. I’m hoping this counts?”

"I JUST ABOUT HAD A HEART ATTACK” he exclaimed. He wasn’t so sure how brave the act was, seeing as how it wasn’t his idea to begin with, but he wasn’t going to protest to her holding him in such high regard. Casey was simply the best contender for the job, seeing as how the last farmhand was pushing sixty and far from being an eligible bachelor. “I had to stop myself from lookin’ at the results, otherwise it would’ve driven me crazy.” 

Footsteps stopped in the snow as he paused to make sure he’d heard her correctly. “You’re lyin’,” he said in disbelief. Little did she know he’d been trying to take her on dates all those years ago: the lake, the rodeo... Mixed signals and bad timing was all he could chalk it up to. The smile fell from his face. “No, wait-- You’re serious, ain’t you... How’s that possible?”

[lonestxrr]

gxldlxghts‌:

This was why she needed more friends who were girls – because for some reason in her gut she knew it was a stupid idea to wear a hat on a date. Why had she put on the goddamn beanie? She always wore a goddamn beanie and this was a special occasion and her hair looked really nice and she had gone and ruined it by wearing a hat. A hat that her mother had knitted her. 

Someone, anyone, with any ounce of sense would have told her not to wear the hat.

Her heart was pounding – and not in a ‘bad heart’ kind of way. Though, if she thought about it, her heart hadn’t hammered quite like this since the last time she had seen Casey back in Quebec. 

“Oh, no, I didn’t do it just for you,” Scarlett answers quickly, a little line forming in her brow.  “–I mean, well, I did do it for you but not like that. I did…bid because it was you but not as like…an obligation thing…” Smooth. 

“You sure it wasn’t a let down?” she asks with a brief laugh. “I mean, there’s actual princesses out here in the wild wandering around ever corner…”

Well, that was certainly good to know. “Gotcha,” was all his manic mind could think to reply.   

His gaze fell to his fidgeting hands, focusing on the way they twisted around one another to ground himself and think a little more clearly.  “No, no, not at all! You kiddin’ me?! No. It was a bit of a relief, honestly.” At the mention of the princesses, he rolled his eyes. He knew them, alright; even helped a few with their horses at the stables. As for what they thought about him? He doubted he was anything more than the help to them. “Aw, I--” he laughed lightly, the slightest bit of color found his face, “I couldn’t be further from all’a that.”

His gaze lifted. “You must know a lot of princes from being up in the village, huh?” 

[lonestxrr]

wtffionn‌:

fionn watched with a smirk on his lips as the other stumbled through his words. he was so different from the type that fionn usually found himself flirting with, the models and royals and socialites. casey seemed so provincial, so innocent, to fionn. sure he had met plenty of people who melted into the ground at the idea of a real live prince but he had never encountered someone so indifferent to his regal bloodline and yet still so bashful. if anything was messing with his head it was the southern twang to the others voice and not the outrageous amount he had had to drink. “you know if you think this is fancy liquor i have a bottle of twenty five year old macallan scotch at home that would blow your mind.” a sly smile was on his lips, unconcerned with the possibility of scaring the boy off entirely, “you’ll have to come try it sometime.”

"No kiddin’?” He whistled, long and slow, then took a sip of his beer. “I’ve never had anything close to that. Heck, I think the oldest I’ve tried was a four-year-old Kentucky bourbon. Mind you, that ain’t nothing like scotch, but, y’know, it’s somethin’.” 

[lonestxrr]

gxldlxghts‌:

“Four years, eh? Wow…” The words were spoken softly, almost beneath her breath as the two of them walked along. In a lot of ways, it felt just like yesterday – how easily she’d be able to recall the smell of gasoline in his old truck and the exact radio station that he’d always have playing when he’d drive her back after hours of practicing at the Artois rink. “Bas is around, actually, training. You’ll probably run into him. Or, honestly, it’s more likely he’ll run into you. You know what a human hurricane he is…”

“Oh, you’re not boring me at all, I promise!” she reassures him with a bright smile as he looks back to her, fidgeting fingers reaching up to lightly tug on the brim of her beanie. Honestly, it was so nice to hear his voice after so long that he could read her an electric bill and she’d be enthralled by it. “And don’t worry about the dress, I’ve probably had this thing since you were back in Canada. I’ve been good, though. Nothing too interesting,” Scarlett laughs with just a hint of self-deprecation. “You know me – skate, sleep, breathe. Usually in that order.”

Casey nodded. He sure did remember. It took damn near everything just to get her to even think about being a little late to one of her practices, let alone skip one. That was out of the question. Even thinking about the way she used to panic at the idea of pissing off one of her coaches was enough to throw himself into an anxiety attack. 

“Hopefully there’s a little more time to breathe in there. And, y’know, eat.” 

[lonestxrr]

ofcrwns‌:

honora smiled, charmed to bits by his accent and his easy demeanor. she sauntered up to the stall and leaned across it like a cat. “i don’t mind if you’re out of things that aren’t pears. after all, isn’t the festival about them?”

she hummed, looking at things closest to her. “what do you suggest?”

“Well, yeah,” he laughed, “you got me there. If you ask me, though, I’m a little sick of ‘em. There’re lots of other fruits worth eating but I guess I gotta respect the heritage ‘n such.” 

He looked over his shoulder to make sure his boss wasn’t around to hear him, then back to the young blonde. “I mean-- Everything’s tasty and made from scratch at the orchard. You really can’t go wrong with any of ‘em, but I like the preserves the best.” Casey put on his best Persuasive Salesman voice, but he didn’t have enough energy left in him at that point in the day to keep from laughing his way through it.