* / semi - open starter ! ( ship partners )
trapped within her thoughts, the whirlwind even worse then usual, yuri
anxiously gnaws at her bottom lip. she’s supposed to be better then this,
supposed to control her emotions, but. well, the other made her feel as
if, maybe, just maybe, it was alright to truly feel. she just couldn’t help it. 🔪
yuri comes to a pause outside the school gate, head lowered as
she reaches and gently grabs the other’s sleeve to get their atten
-tion. it takes her a few moments to find the right words, and work
up the nerve, but eventually she does steel herself, albeit shakily. 🔪
“ te-tell me i am good enough! stay, lay my curses out to rest,
make a mercy out of me… ” she says with burning red cheeks,
and a passion obviously stirred, though her bravery quickly had
began to run out. as yuri begins to really process what she had
just said, her usual nervousness creeping into her expression. 🔪
lilian and yuri live in entirely different neighbourhoods, and yet they still find a way to walk together to school every morning. yuri never seems to mind the bus fare to meet lilian at the bus stop (not the bus stop close to her flat, mind. she adores yuri, but there’s far too high of a crime rate in her neighbourhood to risk letting yuri anywhere near it), so it’s become a comforting ritual for them. lilian’s always been alone, and it’s... strange, she thinks, that someone wants to be around her.
when yuri catches her sleeve and looks at her with maiden’s cheeks, lilian can’t help but stare blankly at her, not unlike she would a toddler who has started suddenly to cry and has not the words to explain what’s wrong. but yuri is not a toddler, only vague, and she’s therefore met with an equally nebulous look from her partner. despite lilian’s penchant for the written word and for long philosophical rambles, she finds it difficult to compliment others outright. it’s much easier through a text message, through a poem riddled with metaphor. and as yuri begs her with trembling violet eyes, lilian finds herself out of her league.
“love, what...?” lilian brings one gloved hand to clasp the one that’s clutching her sleeve with such a childlike and earnest grip. “of course you’re good enough. well, good enough is a construct as it is, with no ability to prove one way or another. how much is enough? what can be judged as good? though...” she trails off, aware that she isn’t saying the right things. her brows knit, but she’s unable to find the words to say, so she plows ahead nonetheless. “that’s... besides the point, i suppose.” she’s making a distinct effort to be kind, empathetic, warm, though she knows she’s very little but a bag of bones, too cold and too dry. “i can analyze your actions through kantian philosophy, moral law and all, but that’s only one philosophical interpretation of moral value.” she squeezes yuri’s hand reassuringly. hopefully, she’s covered enough bases that her girlfriend would feel better.