“Hey, Linhardt? You know how the ball is coming up soon?”
Caspar bites his tongue. He can’t back out now that he’s already gotten all of those words out, but he can try to stop himself from making what he wants to say sound too stupid.
“People have been asking each other about it. And I was thinking, y’know, about what you said last year-”
Nope. No. He’ll start rambling way too much if he goes there. Restart. He shakes his head a little, pushes his fingers through the bristly hair at the back of his neck for a reset. His face feels hot, but he tries again.
“I mean- I know we tend to do stuff together, but I thought it’d be good to actually ask. If you wanted to go. With me.”
I’d like to make room for you. That means it’d be good to open up the space and let them know it's there, right? Caspar’s weight bounces from one foot to the other as he fights off the urge to give Linhardt plenty of room to consider his offer by running off and throwing himself into the pond or something.
it isn't odd for caspar to intercept linhardt at this junction. it's a path in the rut that he carves daily that intersects with one of caspar's many activities, and just seeing his best friend is enough to pull a smile on his face.
ball is coming up soon, he reminds them. that's right - it had been in the back of their mind like a vague, slippery presence for the past week or so. they'd been thinking of people going in pairs, and dancing (well, not the dancing itself, but the closeness) and everything else.
linhardt doesn't have time to think about why caspar, of all people, is bringing it up, before he tries to mention what linhardt said last year and sends them on a journey to try and figure out what that was.
caspar's flushed red, and it's a cute look. he can't remember what he said last year, but he remembers holing up in a cabana and hugging him close through a storm. caspar was cute, then, too. the pink reaches his ears, and it looks like -
“If you wanted to go. With me.”
???????????????????????????
caspar is asking linhardt to the ball? linhardt's heart pounds frantically in his chest, reminding him that he has things like organs, and blood, and that fact is the only thing preventing his face from turning a similar shade to caspar's.
before they so much as open their mouth, linhardt's hand is in in his hair, twirling his ponytail around a finger and tugging gently.
“do you mean in our usual way, or the way everyone else interprets it?” he asks back. he feels a fluttering in his stomach, as though the heartbeat wasn't disgusting enough, and shifts his weight on his feet. “because either way, the answer is yes. i'm… excited it was you to ask me.”