#{ but prof dee is kind of tremendous bc she's both dreamlike but unforgettable / to which ferdie is relieved to know is achievable

[nobilisseoblige]

🎄he deserves a mom kiss on the cheek

it occurred to him one day that he laughed a lot in her company. sometimes he'd laugh so hard he'd have a to wipe away a tear or two, stomach in happy knots and boughs of long-stemmed roses. Ferdinand found her presence strangely relaxing—and though many reported this almost magnifying draw to her, Ferdinand wondered if it was her laughter that they were drawn to. there were days where she didn't follow the rules and he would nag her in a way a child would, and days where he wondered what her own father was like? what her own mother was like? what kind of compass lead her, shepherd to sheep, to become someone so close to a dream he could almost feel like his eyes were closed when they were opened?

sometimes he'd see her through the window and know that she would wave back before he would even raise his hand. sometimes, he'd come by, having named every single lily, every single lavender, every single crysanthemum in her room. people who are afraid of the beautiful simply did not know how to get lost in it. but whenever he was around her, he felt right at home, lost in a way that felt like laughter. lost, with his smiles upon smiles over some silly, trivial, little thing (or another, or another.)

[ he is his mother's child, but he never talks about her. it's strange that he doesn't, though unstrange to say he loves her. she is the perfect mother, the perfect wife, the perfect noble, the perfect wallflower. he refuses to think her one-noted, but she blends into the rose-colored backdrop so well he's afraid to lose her. people who are afraid of the beautiful simply did not know how to get lost in it. maybe he was afraid? (maybe he was afraid.) ]

but with professor Deirdre, when he closed his eyes, he was already pink before her lips graced his cheek. with professor Deirdre, there was both anticipation and pay-off, there was the push and pull of a lullaby. she made him unafraid of what came next. because even upon waking, both his feet were still on the ground and even before he knew it they were already…

"hahaha!" pressing his hand to his stomach, he burst out in bright, bright joy.

did anyone ever ask why Ferdinand enjoyed fairytales? did anyone want to know?

he confesses: it's because he loves the relief of it. the happily every after. he loves the 'after' that's promised, every single time. it doesn't have to be perfect, but it has to leave him knowing there's more. like it was worth the walk down golden brick roads, and the changing of vases, and the nagging, and the waving through the windows, and the umbrellas when it rained.

Ferdinand could anticipate getting lost with her, but finding something worthwhile after.