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#the song that inspired this whole february project yall
eeveevie · 5 years
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holy ground
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And for the first time I had something to lose And I guess we fell apart in the usual way And the story's got dust on every page But sometimes I wonder how you think about it now And I see your face in every crowd [x]
Madelyn has another biblical lesson for Deacon, this time with dance instructions. 
❤ 
Deacon x Madelyn Hardy (Agent Charmer)
1181 words | Ao3
It was a quiet day in the Wasteland—a rare occasion for Deacon and Charmer—as they traveled the outskirts of Sanctuary. That day they had no real mission, no dead-drop to rush to, no settlement to help rescue. The Commonwealth had taken the hint, providing the two with warm weather and clear skies—and as they trekked through the grass fields and trees, there didn’t seem to be a raider or ghoul in sight. The circumstances had put Charmer in an unusually delightful, peppy mood and man, was it intoxicating.
Eventually they came across the old abandoned church—which they had long ago discovered was also hiding a tunnel to a federal stock reserve. In recent months the miracle of Mother Nature had taken over, vines and grass growing over much of the building and landscape. It was spring, and for once, you could actually tell. All Charmer wanted to do was bask in the scenery, and Deacon was all too happy to indulge in her desire to just lay in the pasture and let the day pass them by.
With his hands tucked behind his head, he stared up at the sky, watching as the fluffy white clouds slowly floated overhead. Beside him, Charmer was quietly humming along to whatever song was echoing from her Pip-Boy, softly giggling at whatever joke she was keeping to herself. It was dreamlike—Deacon had to pinch the back of his neck just to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep in one of Irma’s memory pods in Goodneighbor, wondering what he had done recently to turn his good karma around. For once, he decided not to be too philosophical and eased into the good feeling that was radiating through his chest, down to his bones.
Deacon turned his head at the sound of Charmer’s shuffling, raising a curious brow as he watched her sit up, shrugging off her trusty bomber jacket. Next, came her boots, all the while laughter falling from her lips. Before he knew it she was skipping through the grass, and he had leaned up on his arm, craning his neck to get a better view as she circled around him. She had swapped her usual attire for a dress she had purchased in Diamond City, one he knew she’d been saving for a special occasion—he wasn’t about to get hung up on why she considered time with him special. The dress itself was blue, darker than her vault suit, with little yellow flowers embroidered into the cotton. Perfectly Charmer.
On the radio, Travis introduced The Wanderer, and Charmer’s expression lit up like it was Christmas day all over again. She was dancing now, in her own little circle, with the brightest grin as she sang along with all the theatrics, only pausing when she realized that Deacon was very much observing her every move.
“What?” she nervously laughed.
“Nothing,” he replied, flashing a smile. This had all been very entertaining, endearing for him. “Just watching you dance.”
He found himself plucking at the daisies that littered the earth beneath his body, thankful that she couldn’t see his eyes or the subtlety of his expression from that far away—Charmer would’ve definitely picked up on how anxious he was feeling, for all the fake confidence he was trying to portray. She was smiling at him, but a slight blush was apparent. She took a step closer, sashaying her skirt.
“Why don’t you dance with me?” she asked.
Deacon flinched away, though he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like he could disappear into the ground—yet. “What?”
“Come on!” Charmer encouraged, that shining beacon of a smile that nobody, not even he could say no to. “It’ll be fun!”
She outstretched her arms, reaching for his hands with far more enthusiasm than he anticipated. The song continued to filter out from her wrist, and reluctantly he stood, taking one of her hands in the process. Still, he leaned away with a hesitant frown.
“I—I’m not a good dancer, Charmer,” he lied. “I’d only step on your feet.”
She peered at him skeptically, the same way she always did when she didn’t believe the bullshit he fed her in their travels across Boston. She was always so good at seeing right through him and it was as terrifying as it was thrilling. He couldn’t be his usual self around her, but perhaps that didn’t have to be such a bad thing.
“Come on Deacon,” she reassured once more, squeezing his hand. “I won’t bite. Unless you want me to.”
He smirked, deciding it was now or never—and right now he didn’t want to disappoint Charmer. Or maybe he didn’t want to ever disappoint her. Maybe he wanted to impress her, or woo her—kiss her? It was a complicated string of thoughts that fluttered through his mind as he let her take the lead, smiling through the uncoordinated dance steps until they fell into the rhythm of the song. With their hands clasped, Deacon glanced to see Charmer’s expression the happiest it had been in recent months. Now he had a new mission—to keep it that way.
Deacon twirled her around under his arm and she laughed, bringing her hand to rest on his shoulder so she was that much closer as they danced, slowing as one song ended and another down tempo one began. Her smile softened and God-damn—had her eyes always been so bright blue?
“Holy ground,” Charmer spoke suddenly, quietly.
He blinked himself out of his stupor. “Huh?”
She was smiling again, that beautiful, perfect toothy grin like she was posing for the front of some pre-war magazine. “Time for a new lesson in religion,” she started with a chuckle. “Holy ground means a place, usually a church, or a place of worship is sacred and protected. Blessed.”
Charmer skewed her lips to the side as she paused. “Its usually related to people, or relationships, so that’s also why a lot of people used the phrase colloquially.”
“Ooh, I love it when you use big words,” he joked, causing Charmer to roll her eyes, though he caught the tint of color creeping up her neck. “Sounds sacrilegious.”
“I knew you’d like that,” she laughed, and he realized they all but had stopped moving, still holding one another as they talked. Neither moved to step away. “It means you consider a place special. Well, more than special.”
“Okay. Great, I feel very learned,” Deacon nodded enthusiastically. Charmer was always very keen on educating him on pre-war religious terminology. “But why are you telling me all this?”
Charmer glanced at him with a sheepish little smile, squeezing his hand a little before swaying them back into a slow dance. “A first dance—something I haven’t done since…”
She didn’t need to say anything else for Deacon to understand clearly. Though, he wanted to mark the occasion as something more, he did so in his mind—their first dance. He memorized the coordinates, feel of the earth beneath his feet—like Charmer said—it was holy ground.  
❤ 29/29 ❤
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