@pulledplug said: ❛ I guess a part of me likes to talk to you. ❜ pining song prompts. / accepting.
ㅤ ㅤ Prattling, prattling, prattling — the sound of her voice spread in the air like a warm summer breeze carressing their skin, bringing some light as the sun hid behind dark clouds. Raindrops hitting the windows formed a cacophonous but pleasant symphony, the building whistling in the wind like a hideous prison. Nature was losing the battle, though. Memories, desires, plans! Sweet nothings and valuable advice sharing the same space, the storm of ideas rivaling the storm outside the house. If Reimi could not release her energy walking through the streets, joining the living organism that was Naples, feeling the pulse of all people as if they were one, someone needed to be her audience to listen to her speech. Abbacchio was not there by chance. He was not a worthy adversary, even if he dominated whatever the current topic was. He could cut her wings with his assertiveness, but he didn't. In fact, he was putting out the fire with gasoline.
ㅤ ㅤ Both elbows resting on the table, her chin was supposed to be propped up on her fists if it wasn't moving up and down without interruption. Her gaze was divided into two unequal parts, the fragment of that spectacle of unsaid beauty could not compete with his reactions to her words. Eyebrows brought together, painted lips pursed tight, eyes shining with some idea that never knew freedom — until that moment. ❝ A part? How big is this part? ❞ Oh, Reimi could not prevent the amusement, almost childish mischief across her face. Taken by surprise but able to regain dominance with enviable speed, her whole body turned towards Abbacchio, giving him all the attention he deserved. The answer, or its existence, did not matter. She already won. ❝ Considering how hard I worked to get your attention, it’s a good start. ❞ Her head tilted slightly to the side, hair strands trying to hide her features but stopped by a quick gesture of her fingers. Happy, grateful, even silly. The path to her heart didn't have twists and turns.
ㅤ ㅤ Just as her love was right on the tip of her tongue. Less something to talk about and more something that weaved itself into her speech without permission (and, of course, with it). Coming out everyday in the easiest way to understand... What’s the point of feeling it if you don’t say it? ❝ My whole self likes to talk to you. ❞ A palm pressed against her slightly flushed cheek, she felt a smile spreading lopsided all over her face — and she knew she was looking like a fool. So sweet and luminous, shining with happiness just like her eyes. ❝ I just want you to know. ❞ Because she would never, ever demand anything. So different, one could say that that bond was nothing short of improbable. Only fate had an explanation and didn't reveal it to anyone. But did it really matter at all? No, absolutely not, let alone facing the grace that came out of nowhere. In the blink of an eye, a synthesis she could not do, Abbacchio made her day with just a sentence. That's quite an accomplishment.
