Best Coast | How They Want Me to Be
"But I don’t want to be how they want me to be I don’t want to be how they want me to be ..."

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Best Coast | How They Want Me to Be
"But I don’t want to be how they want me to be I don’t want to be how they want me to be ..."
Portrait Of A Young Woman - [Angelo/Rosalind]
He’s still in the process of waking up, mindlessly gathering his things and murmuring tiny reminders to himself in sleepy Italian. For a moment he thought he imagined it— the knocking at the door. The brunette blinks, looking over at his notepad, opened up to a scribble that only the artist could decipher.
Oh! That was right! He was expecting the De Sainte-Coquille girl today.
That reminder woke him right up and decided he ought to check the door, wiping down his hand against his pants— already stained with charcoal from his morning sketching.
Sure enough, una bella ragazza was waiting for him. Unfamiliar, to be sure, but it was that unfamiliarity that hinted this was the girl he should’ve been expecting.
[Insert cute icon here.]
"Ah— could you be Signorina De Sainte-Coquille?” He greeted, with a friendly smile on his face.
Now he wasn't quite as what she expected to be having been thought it would be an old, grizzled master and maybe an apprentice or two by his side to answer the door. Nothing like the youthful, handsome man standing in front of her.
"Ah--"
Oh goodness, come now, act like you're actually fluent in the language. But wait ... was that Italian he spoke? An Italian artist? Good Gods.
"Oui, c'est moi-- Yes, yes, Ah-- Je m'appelle-- My name it is, that's my name. It's Rosalind ... R-Rosalind is my name ..." Peering up at the man with wide, sea glass green eyes. "My name is Rosalind."
'Dearest' ring, Georgian era, late 18th to early 19th century, these were usually love tokens, but could also be for mourning, it's called 'dearest' because the first letter of each stone spells out 'dearest'
D - Diamond E - Emerald A - Amethyst R - Ruby E - Emerald S - Sapphire T - Topaz
Le Temps de l'Amour - [Ash / Rosalind]
He’s grateful for the break— he had gotten out of bed that morning sleepier than he had been in weeks, and sort of wandered around the animals in a daze. (They even nudged him to wake up! Clearly more intelligent than others gave them credit for.) So now that the most of his morning work was over, he flopped down into a chair at the table, eager to eat.
His lunch was nothing special, just a sandwich and chips that he quietly munched on while his mother went on about the recent happenings in town. Ash was only half listening, and when he reached over to take a drink from his water, there was a knock at the door. His mother threw him an expectant (threatening) look from the kitchen and Ash scrambled out of his seat to get the door.
— Who he found there gave him a mild heart-attack.
"Rose!!"
Ah, shoot— he sure said that pretty loud, he could only guess the kind of grilling he would get from his mother later. Laughing uneasily, he wedged himself between the girl and the door, probably invading her personal space, but he really needed to shut it closed so his mother wouldn’t listen in. It was well beyond embarrassing already.
"You’re here!" He grinned— still surprised.
Her features visibly brightened as Ash was the one to open the door, not catching how uneasy he appeared to be.
Rosalind was about to exclaim how over joyed she was to be back in Bluebell when her valet cut her off with a-- "Prrrrrrresenting--" Oh Gods, the petite girl could already feel her face heating up in embarrassment, hiding her face from the rancher with her fan. "A Ms. Rosalind Mathilde de Sainte Coquille, his beloved rose of a daughter to the esteemed Duke of Alvarna, his sire, Herman de Sain--" Having had enough the aristocrat withdrew her cream-colored fan from her face and proceeded to hit her attendant of the shoulder with, hissing, "that's quite enough from you!"
Staring at the valet with a pout, "go on, I know when you'll be back, leave me be with the beast wrangler~!" He ducked his head with a sheepish, "of course, Ms. Rosalind" and proceeded to drive off with her carriage.
Sea glass green eyes reluctantly making their way back to Ash, looking hesitant, "I-I'm terribly sorry, I didn't think he'd go off on that tangent of his ..." Shakes her head, doing her best to muster a bright smile with a tilt of her head, "now then. Shall we~♪"
And with that significantly smaller woman pushed the rancher to the side and opened the door to make way for herself.
Opera Dress
1820
British
LACMA
Le Temps de l'Amour - [Ash / Rosalind]
It was just a slight detour, giver or take twenty or more miles. Alright, so maybe it wasn't as close to the social tea she had taken a part of earlier in the day but the thought of seeing Ash wasn't a predominant thought in her mind, more so then she'd like to admit, really.
Her carriage pulling around to the front of his family's ranch, Rosalind hid a giddy smile behind her lace fan as she sincerely hoped he would be home to see her. Dropping her fan in her lap, the aristocrat fumbled with her purse before opening the gold clasp and pulling forth a pocket mirror to examine herself. Sea foam curls were draped around her heart-shaped face and her make up was done quite well, but perhaps just a touch more of color to her lips which she brought on by gently gnawing her lower lip in attempts to bring forth some color.
The valet opened the door for her, helping her out and onto the cobblestone to which he next told her that he would return no later then seven in the evening. The petite woman wanted to whine about how that simply wasn't enough time but seeing how he had done enough by keeping the detour from her father, she held her tongue.
With a skip in her step, Rosalind knocked on the door to the humble home and patiently waited for an answer as the valet waited by her side.
Under the Moon [Rosalind / Ash]
This was nice. Quiet, and another word he couldn’t place. There was also the small victory of not stepping on her feet— yet.
Ash gazed down at her with a soft expression, letting a small smile onto his face. Honestly, he’s a little amused to catch her staring, wondering what could have been on his face to keep her attention so long. A piece of food? Goddess, anything but that. Maybe it was a speck of dirt. He could live with that. He hoped it was just that.
He’s unsure of how he reacted to her leaning against him. Sure, there’s a subtle sense of panic, a flipping and flopping of his stomach, but there’s also a gentle nudge that it was okay. It was fine, it made sense.
After all, Rosalind was rather vulnerable just moments ago, and it’s only natural for someone to want some sort of physical proximity to another. Whenever Cheryl cried, she’d run straight to their mother or even to him— seeking a hug.
"You don’t…" He blinked, feeling a strange sensation across his cheeks. Was he… blushing? Nah, probably just the cold air nipping at his skin. “… You don’t have to thank me.” Ash replied in a soft voice, lowering it to match hers.
"Though to be honest, I’m always really glad when I run into you. I don’t know why, but I always think there’s no way you could possibly be at the same place as I am. But then you go and surprise me." He confessed, ducking his head bashfully.
She smiled, biting down on her lower lip for a brief moment as to stop it from shining through. "I knew you'd say that ... You never let me thank you for anything but I want you to have this bit of gratitude, just for once."
Rosalind carefully listened to his own confession, not being able to hold back her smile any longer and humming in delight seeing that they both had similar feelings for one another in that regard. "That pleases me to hear, really ... " The aristocrat pondered her next set of words, wondering if she really was so daring as to speak her mind so freely to the rancher. And feeling as though she really didn't have anything to lose, she went forth to say;
"I like surprising you."
Staring at Ash for a moment longer, the thought of how late drifted through her mind but it wasn't until the thought of her father materialized did she appear
"Oh--! Oh goodness! I have to, the time, I must be, I have to leave!" Rosalind finally spat out, loosening her grip from Ash and racing to the spot she left her picnic basket and blanket as she more or less bundled it up into a ball and stuffed it into the basket.
Standing awkwardly with basket one hand, she offered a wave goodbye before asking in a questioning tone with a clearly worried expression, "I'll be seeing you again ... Right?"
Under the Moon [Rosalind / Ash]
He wasn’t exactly ready for her to take his hands so soon, much less place them at her waist again. Though, really, that was a dumb thought to even entertain— can’t really dance with the girl without touching her.
"Yeah, I do." He replied, not wanting to disappoint her by saying, uh, no?
Ash took in a deep breath and felt the warmth of her arms around his neck for the second time in his life. “Strange? ‘M not sure if I would label it as that…” Anything other than this and he would definitely feel pretty foolish, considering the lack of music. —Which he might or might not have barely noticed the absence of.
The rancher adjusted his hand at her waist as he tried to get himself to calm down, though he definitely wasn’t as tense as he was the first time they danced.
He kind of found himself following her movements, his gaze wandering from the pond to the trees. Finally, his gaze wandered back down to the petite young woman, noticing how her hair practically glowed in the moonlight. His eyes caught onto hers and he had a hard time pulling his gaze away again.
His movements were slow and just a tiny bit awkward, which would have made him nervous all over again— if not for the gentle humming from Rosalind. It was very soft, and nice to hear; calming. Whereas at the dance he wondered if he should speak, now he felt that it was pretty safe not to. He didn’t want to interrupt her humming, or possibly ruin the moment.
It was an intimate moment, anyone could have seen that, but whether or not Rosalind acknowledged it as such and not as a friendly dance between such good "chums" was up for debate.
His hands around her waist.
Her arms strung around his neck with her small frame in close proximity to his own.
They were close enough in that if anyone were to walk by they'd most likely think about what a lovely festival is was for couples all over.
Rosalind hadn't even noticed the fact that her gentle hum quieted down some as she looked onto his features with a sort of affectionate expression. He was darker then her which she came to the conclusion came from his work, lips curved in a seemingly endless awkward smile, but his eyes ... They always seemed so gentle, so full of a sort of kindness she yearned to see more of.
Realizing she had been staring for far too long, her eyes flickered to his chest to which she placed her forehead against, staring at the lush, greenery beneath their feet, dotted with bright yellow dandelions.
The woman stopped humming, staying completely silent for a few moments as the feeling of Ash holding onto her was far too comforting to break.
"... ... ..."
Finally, feeling as if she had soaked up enough of physical touch she needed to regain her spunk, Rosalind spoke in a gentle whisper as if they were surrounded by people and he was the only one she wanted to hear what she had to say next.
"I want to thank you ... Thank you for your kindness towards myself ..." Swallowing a small lump in her throat, she continued, "And it's not just tonight, it's every meeting that we've had, running into one another so often sometimes I expect to see you when I turn the corner ... In fact ..."
"I often hope if not wish we do run into one another."
To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour.
William Blake, Auguries of Innocence (via hqlines)
La Proposition, Detail.
by Frédéric Soulacroix
[Approaches her outside her manor with a bouquet of roses] Hello, my dearest ♥
[Closing the door behind her having just about to go pay Dorothy a visit when she immediately spots George.] !!! [Laughs in an enthusiastic manner, lifting up the skirt to her dress a bit in so that she may walk up to him faster.] Good day to you, mon cher~! To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, hmm~♪ [Peering up at him with a bright smile.]
Mrs Richard Le Doux, Detail.
by Vlaho Bukovac, 1892
Under the Moon [Rosalind / Ash]
Ash nodded, “Yeah. Of course I did.” Even if it was a little on the embarrassing and uncomfortable side for him, and even if he didn’t have a clue as to what on earth he was doing once he had led her to that dance floor.
Her words were unexpected however, and he leaned away, completely surprised. He personally didn’t think he was that all remarkable. Average, normal more than anything — so this threw him off.
He watched her stand up with wide eyes, still lingering on her words even though she had clearly moved on from them. And for a moment he doesn’t even comprehend what she’s asking of him, blinking slowly. All he saw was her twirling gracefully, light azure hair following her movement. “Sure,” He answered in a bit of a dazed tone, suddenly coming to and realizing what he had agreed to.
Ash gulped, knowing he wouldn’t have had the heart to deny her request even if he had been paying more attention. The rancher pushed himself up from the ground, rubbing his neck as he approached the petite young woman. “Let’s just hope I don’t ruin that dream,” He replied, feeling his nerves resurface anew.
"You're so silly! Why would I even begin to ask to dance with you but one more time if I didn't enjoy myself in the first place, hm~♪"
Taking a few steps forward, Rosalind glanced upwards at the man . "Now ... I know it was a bit hard to hear my instructions to our dance over the music at the social however I think there may be a few distinct movements you might remember ... At least--" Reaches for his hand, settling it against the subtly curve of her body with her hand atop as to make sure there was no possibility of him retracting his arm. "At least you may remember where to place your hands, I mean I certainly hope you do."
Dropping her hand from his own, both thin arms snaked around his neck as it they did before. "I-I know this might be strange seeing that it's a slower dance of all things ..." And an intimate one at that. "However I personally believe it is the easiest to start with. Just follow my movements ..."
She began to sway her hips to a strange melody that consisted of the crickets chirps, the gentle November breeze rustling the last, dry leaves of the season, and a quiet hum on her part.
There was an uncommon sort of ethereal beauty she possessed dancing under the dull glow of the moon with the silvery light highlighting her pale forget-me-not blue colored locks of hair and seemingly giving her a halo, of all things.
Peridot green eyes never left his own, feeling as if she should reassure him that he was doing just fine as the serene, half-lidded gaze suggested as much.
"♪ ♪ ♪"
Under the Moon [Rosalind / Ash]
in terms of various festivals and holidays.
Ash shook his head. “Er— no, nothing’s wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong, no need to apologize.” He quickly replied, trying to get his mind settled.
She didn’t sound too sure of herself when she answered, but he imagined that if he had to suddenly answer the same sort of question, he wouldn’t be too sure either. Maybe animal festivals?
"Lots of people and dancing!" He echoed, exhaling loudly. Just a result of nerves, not because he was bored. "Kinda like the Halloween Dance that happened last week?" Made sense, really, she mentioned really liking to dance while they were together. … As awkward as he might have made that with his severe lack of dancing abilities.
"Not sure if I mentioned it then, but I had fun." At least that much was true. "With you." Ash added on, just in case he needed to clarify.
Was that a sigh?
I mean, it sort of sounded like it when repeated what she had previously said and the mere thought of the woman boring something who she thought to be interesting made her feel as if silly for piling on her own burdens onto the young man.
Under the Moon [Rosalind / Ash]
He gave her a thankful smile, appreciating that she didn’t push the subject. Ash wasn’t sure what he’d say or do if she did, but again, he’s glad that he didn’t have to think about it.
The rancher’s eyes soften at the gentle tone her voice had picked up. “I guess that’s the way it is now.” He chuckled quietly, amused when she adds on that she thinks he’s foolish. “You and I both, frankly.” He could feel the gentle pressure of her weight against his arm, and while it did cause a familiar shock of tiny nerves, for the most part… it felt rather nice.
It occurred to him then that she wasn’t crying anymore. He was thankful for that. And he hoped that she at least felt better. A brief glance down at her informed him that she did, if the smile on her face was an indicator. Ash’s eyes lingered on her face, taking in the sight of her tear streaked cheeks, the tiny slope of her nose, the shape of her eyes. Her lips.
Ash blinked, realizing that he must be staring. Swallowing, the young man leaned away and turned back towards the pond, this time tilting his head back to watch the moon for the first time that night.
Well, what now? Should he try and break the silence? It was comfortable, until just a moment ago. Did he make it awkward? Probably. Definitely.
"So…" Quick, idiot, think of something. “Any other festival you really like?” Well… not exactly the most interesting thing he could ask, but it was… something. Ash was practically groaning mentally at himself.
Playfully swats at his cheek, the sensation more akin to light pressure then pain as the freckled skin on her nose wrinkled in amusement at his comment of his own foolishness. "You're not allowed to talk about yourself like that, that's my job, you dull-witted boy~♪" Rosalind was jesting with him, of course, but there was still a part of her that didn't like him to talk of himself in anything but a positive light.
The petite woman had a lingering feeling within that made her sort of shrink under his gaze. "W-What are you looking at, is there something wrong ..." she questioned, furrowing her brow with a questioning smile on her features.
Feeling him lean away and back to his own space, Rosalind muttered a quiet, "sorry, I'm sorry ..." feeling foolish for being so personal in regards to the previous "intimacy" between the pair. There was no reason for her to lean into him yet a part of her yearned for a physical touch of someone to let her know they were there. Which he had sort of done ... right?
Twirling a piece of her hair around her finger, looking away from Ash given her embarrassment for a few moments of awkward silence until he questioned about other festivals she enjoyed. What a weird question. "Um ..." Glances up at him before emerald eyes flicker downward to both hands she set in her lap. "I dunno, maybe ones with lots of different people and dancing?" she question rather then answered, unsure herself on what she liked in terms of various festivals and holidays.
Under the Moon [Rosalind / Ash]
Honestly? He felt more than a little uncomfortable bringing up the topic. But still, Ash nodded when she mentioned being in similar shoes. “Yeah, I guess so.” He paused, tilting his head just so. “Things were just… hard.” There just was his mother— maybe the most affected, little Cheryl who was just still practically a baby, and him.
A good seven years had passed, and it was something that both freaked him out and helped. He didn’t know how long ago Rosalind lost her mother, if it was a long time, or recent— either way, the pain of losing a parent is the same, isn’t it?
Ash nodded again, blinking over in her direction. He’s not sure how to react to that sort of praise, never having exactly heard anything of that nature said to him. ” ‘M not sure if it’s strength exactly, but if you believe it’s that, then… I guess I have no choice but to take your word for it.”
He leaned against her shoulder, just enough to give her a gentle nudge. “You know what I think? I think you’re capable of it too. You probably have it in you already, and just can’t see it for yourself just yet.” Ash looked back to the pale moon’s reflection of the water— it looked kinda surreal, like a mirror. “But I see it.”
He didn't seem like he wanted to delve further into the subject and she wasn't one to pressure him into telling her more. It was enough that he was comfortable enough with her to go into the apparent sensitive subject as it was. "You don't have to say anymore if you don't want to ..." she murmured to him in a sweet, reassuring tone as the woman looked to Ash in understanding.
"You're absolutely right ..." she continued on in the same sweet tone, just a touch of affection laced in between each word. "You have no choice but to listen to me seeing that i'm right an all~♪"
The sudden physical contact between the two was surprising if not startling. Although it was not exactly unwelcome seeing that Rosalind leaned into him, just enough to let him know she was right by his side and that she had no intention on leaving it anytime soon. "And I think you're foolish ..." she murmured, nudging his shoulder with her head in a teasing manner. "But I suppose this is where you'll say I have no choice but to listen to you ... And perhaps even then, that's a blessing in itself."
Gnaws on her lower lip for a moment, headed pressed onto his shoulder as the aristocrat pondered both his and her words. Glancing up at the rancher, the moon's shining brilliance bringing some silvery light onto her face as she stopped to look at him, seeing that there really was no words needed to be said between the pair at that given moment as her content smile did the talking for her.
Under the Moon [Rosalind / Ash]
—Her family? She’s mentioned them once, in small passing when he went to her hometown a while ago, but he didn’t know much about them. Ash leaned forward to listen, hearing how her tears made her uncharacteristically stutter.
Then there was the mention of ‘she’. Who did Rosalind mean? Who passed away? He blinked, his expression probably making it very transparent that he was thinking it over, trying to figure it out. —Did she mean… her mother or someone else?
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You're being too hard on yourself.
How often had she heard that one? Clearly not enough to make her believe the words, apparently.