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Raine really wishes that this staff felt a bit less like a stage.
It’s not like this is going to be the grandest performance of their life or anything. No, loving Eda is never a performance— it’s always real, something just between them, and they don’t need an audience’s approval to know that.
This feeling reminds them more of stage fright itself, standing on a platform and having a spotlight cast directly onto their face, like everyone can see them, sweating nervously and words caught in their throat. They could make one wrong move (stuttering, rambling, mixing up speeches, all of the above) and they’d be booed off stage, embarrassing themself and everyone around them.
Don’t make a fool of yourself, their parents’ voices echo in their head. Just breathe.
Except this isn’t an audience. Eda is the only one here, legs swinging as the two of them sit side by side, hovering on her staff above their spot. They’d claimed it back when they were younger, exploring like kids did, laughing as they scrambled up one of the hills smack dab in the middle of the ribs of the Titan. The two of them giggling and jostling each other, stretching to see who could come closer to touching the stars. It was raised just high enough to be able to see the sunset, high enough to forget about the troubles that awaited them below.
Raine and Eda had found that they both needed an escape— Eda from her curse, and Raine from their performances. But over time, Raine found themself realizing more and more that it was less about the escaping and more about Eda.
Everything was about Eda, really, at least in Raine’s eyes.
(They wouldn’t have it any other way).
“It’s been a while since we came up here,” Eda murmurs, her eyes trained on the sky laid out before them. The scenery is spread out like a map to all the different nooks and crannies of their souls, and Raine thinks back to the first time they had seen Eda in years, the two of them and the rest of the BATTs disappearing beneath the sewers.
As always, Eda had an escape plan ready, and a couple hours later, her arms were full of homemade maps as well. They remember the two of them running into the night, cloaks fluttering behind them, restless songs in their heartbeats. They remember puddles splashing and candles burning, turning to stone in the woods, and…
Raine still couldn’t reach the end of that memory without running into the pain that accompanied it, but every time, the pain faded just a bit. And they were healing; it was a slow process, but they would get there soon enough.
People didn’t just recover overnight from leaving and lying to the love of their life, after all.
Besides, Eda deserved better than a storm leaking acid rain and ruin, especially after the things they’ve lived through. Plus, the longer this duct tape held Raine together, the more they realized they would be able to stand without it.
“I missed it up here,” Raine replies softly, admitting the barest truth, a much smaller one than the question weighing down their tongue. If the response was a beat later than it should have been, that was all right too— they had been apart for long enough, a few seconds was miniscule in comparison.
“Better missing the view than each other,” Eda says, echoing Raine’s earlier thoughts. It sounds leagues better coming from Eda, as expected. They may have been the bard, but Eda carried a different kind of melody, breathtaking and wild and free.
A corner of Raine’s heart tugs at old memories where Eda was noticeably absent, where dirt-stained Grudgby sweatshirts and feathers that had found their way around Raine’s house were all they had left of her. How they’d never really gotten to say goodbye properly after how they’d left things— how they didn’t get to say See you later instead.
But that was before, and this is now, and Eda is sitting right next to them, so why can’t they just ask already?
“Agreed,” Raine blurts out. “Best missing neither,” they add absentmindedly.
With a surge of sudden determination, they turn to face Eda.
“Eda, would you—” Raine begins, their voice wavering like the most amateur attempt at vibrato gone wrong.
Eda’s eyes snap to face them again, and Raine has to take a deep breath. In their exhale, any determination and courage they might have had flies out the window (or off the staff…?).
“…Would I?” Eda gently prompts, raising an eyebrow.
Raine gulps. “Would you… want to come up here again sometime?”
Well, that wasn’t entirely a disaster. Even if their stage fright got the best of them today, there was always next time. And the next, and the next. Time was a special freedom, one that Raine wasn’t willing to give up anytime soon. Now that no one was chasing after them, the two of them had their entire lives ahead of them.
(Only if Eda would have them, of course. Titan, why was this so difficult?)
Eda smiles at their question, but it feels like something almost falls short in their grin.
“You just have to ask, and I’m in,” Eda agrees. You just have to ask, Raine scolds themself.
“The view’s pretty, but I have to say, it’s not as pretty as you,” Eda remarks slyly, the flirtatious comment immediately turning Raine into a blushing mess. They wonder how they’ve managed to survive all this time— they would’ve thought that living with Eda permanently would eventually make them immune. But as it turns out, there is little use trying to resist Eda’s charms.
It did make it all the sweeter whenever Raine managed to make Eda blush in return, though.
Raine turns around again, looking away from Eda and the knowledge sparking in their eyes.
She knows. She has to.
“Any reason in particular you’re asking?” Eda continues.
Raine stammers, fumbling awkwardly.
“No, well, actually, yes, you know when— the bow is nice, and you, I mean me—”
Raine gives up, unable to finish their sentence. Seems the stage fright still struck, even when they were hundreds of feet in the air. Ugh.
Less stage fright. That was Raine’s wish. (And maybe a blanket or two while they were at it because, let’s be honest, a staff isn’t the most comfortable seating arrangement.)
“Rainstorm, it’s just me,” Eda says soothingly, reaching for their hands and lacing them together with her own. Raine feels their shoulders loosen in the slightest, and they exhale shakily. “You never need to have stage fright around me, okay?”
“I know,” Raine replies quietly, their cheeks flushing dark as they pull their hands back. “I just— this is— uh.”
They scratch at the back of their neck gingerly, reaching into their right pant pocket and taking out the ring. It’s made of a classic demon’s gold, melted to form a braided circle. They’d made sure it was custom-fitted to her measurements, and it matches the hue of Eda’s old ring, but this time without the gemstone on it. They almost drop it in their haste, but Eda is patient, willing to wait for them forever.
Raine holds the ring between two fingers and sticks it out towards Eda, closing their eyes and refusing to look at her as they speak. Their words come out as a tangled jumbled mess, and it’d be a miracle if Eda could understand them at all.
“Do you want to maybe kinda get married it’s okay if you say no—”
Raine’s internal monologue was silently fuming. Yikes. What happened to the speech they’d rehearsed in the mirror countless times beforehand? What happened to “Eda, you’re the love of my life and I would be honoured to spend the rest of my life with you?” Or “I’ve been in love with you since we were students at Hexside and one of your potions blew up in my face and I had to get a new pair of glasses?”
Not one single mention of an old memory, a potential opening for humour…
Eda was definitely going to say no.
“Yeah, Rainy,” Eda is saying, and okay, Raine wasn’t expecting that. They open their eyes, and Eda is gazing at them like they’re her whole world. “Of course I want to marry you. What have I ever said that would make you think the answer to that would be a no?”
“Oh, thank the Titan,” Raine breathes, relief flooding them. “And… I don’t… know?”
Maybe because I broke your heart once, their mind supplies, and Raine swallows the thought away. That wasn’t either of their faults, and they’d had this discussion before, teary whispers and embraces in the dark of their room. They’d forgiven each other ages ago, and hearts were always mendable.
And so they come back to the present, leaving those memories in their past. Somehow, even though they had gotten their yes, their breath still comes in shallow pants as the reality sinks in that they’re going to marry Eda. They were going to marry Eda Clawthorne.
Raine grips Eda’s hand, going to slip the ring on her finger before they manage to drop it. Their hands are shaking, refusing to fit the ring on where it belongs, and Raine swears under their breath. Eda tries to hide her amusement, suppressing a laugh at their struggle.
“If you’re going to laugh, just do it wholeheartedly,” Raine groans, mildly embarrassed. “I love your laugh enough to make up for the general humiliation.”
Eda does laugh at that then, and Raine wonders to themself. Who let them be this lucky?
“I think that ring’s supposed to be mine now,” Eda points out playfully, another long moment of struggling passing by. Raine frowns, lifting the ring higher in return, all worries of it dropping gone from their mind.
“Come and get it, then,” Raine dares her, waving it slightly in the air. Eda clamors to reach it, standing up shakily on the staff to swipe at the twinkling object, and then—
Snap. Eda’s legs buckle, her unsteady balance giving way to the force of gravity. Instinctively, Raine reaches out a hand, catching them and pulling them back up just before they fall out of reach.
Before Eda can let go of their hand— Titan, Raine wishes they would never let go (and maybe they wouldn’t, not anymore)— Raine finally manages to clumsily slide the ring on Eda’s finger. Eda looks down at it in surprise, the twisted ring of gold right at home on her finger.
“There. I think you earned it,” Raine says, a smile finding its way onto their face.
“And how did I do that?” Eda asks, eyes darting back and forth between the ring and their face like they can’t believe it’s real.
Raine pretends to think. “Well, besides the whole ‘falling off your staff in your eagerness to get the ring’ situation… you made me fall in love with you, calamity. And you’ve saved my life more times than I can count, and you’re the most—”
Eda cuts Raine off, holding up a hand so they pause. “Hang on. There is no way you fell in love with me before I fell in love with you.”
Raine shifts closer— it’s not hard, the staff is short— and nudges Eda’s arm, grinning at the prospect of a challenge. “Are you so sure about that? Would you care to wager on it?”
Eda rests her head on Raine’s shoulder before answering. “The day we first met, when you called me a dingus and caught my Grudgby ball, throwing it right back at me instead of dropping it. That day when you’d made me feel, for once, that maybe I didn’t have to be alone. That I had more than just my sister by my side. That was the first time.”
Raine sucks in a breath at that. “I didn’t even think… Eda, I called you a dingus. Anyone else and it would be an insult.”
“And it’s a compliment to me,” Eda says, elbowing Raine lightly, “even if you had meant it otherwise, I wouldn’t have cared, because by then I’d decided you were the second-most perfect person to ever exist.”
“Not the first?” Raine teases.
“You know that spot is reserved for my dad, rainstorm,” Eda snorts, and Raine does too. “You come in real close, though.”
Raine just shakes their head, fondness seeping into the gesture. They love her so much; it’s hard to wrap their head around sometimes.
“So, can you beat that?” Eda smirks.
Raine hums, gathering their thoughts. “I think I fall in love with you a bit more every time I see you, even if you’re waking me up at 3 AM to blast Luz’s human realm loud pop punk music and dragging me to dance with you in the kitchen. Even if you have red staining your lips from your fourth glass of apple blood, or if your hair in the morning is more reminiscent of a bird’s nest than your actual owl nest.”
Eda’s eyes are wide, a blush spreading across their cheeks, and that just spurs Raine onward.
“I fall in love with you every time I think of you, really,” they continue. “So it’s hard to pinpoint an exact day I did. I just know I want to keep falling in love with you for the rest of my life.”
Eda falters, speechless, trying to grab at words. It takes a minute, but after cupping their face in her hands and kissing them sweetly, she finds her voice.
“You know,” Eda says at last, a little breathless. “For someone with stage fright, you really have a way with words sometimes.”
“Good thing this isn’t a stage, then,” Raine quips, and Eda’s laugh rings like a song they wouldn’t mind hearing for the rest of forever.