[ Putting together a present for someone in secret is difficult, especially when you have to share a living space with the someone you’re trying to keep it from. Factor in how annoyingly perceptive Eren is and that Ophilia cannot lie to save her life, though, and suddenly what should only be difficult ends up becoming nigh impossible.
Somehow, Ophilia manages to do the impossible and sneak it in without him noticing—or at least without him asking. His present, along a note she’s tacked on top, wait for him underneath the villa’s crystal tree. ]
To my dear friend Eren,
I cannot express how grateful I am for all you’ve done—not in words, and certainly not with a simple gift.
I should like to think you’ve since cleaned it, but I hope you’ll accept this nonetheless. Perhaps they’ll help when next you make a mess of it.
May your holidays be blessed and merry.
Ophilia Clement
[ Hidden inside the box are bottles of polish and oil, accompanied by a brush meant to help with gun maintenance. ]
[ Sat at the base of their tree, Eren was utterly perplexed. Though he's been there since the turn of the hour, and it was now a quarter after, no matter how many times he reads it, her note continues to baffle him. Almost certain that he could sit there his whole lifetime and still not come to a conclusion, he's grateful that the sound of footsteps takes his attention away from the gift and to the woman responsible for it. ]
...Oh. Ophilia. [ When he hears how hoarse his voice is, he clears his throat - painfully. ] You're up.
[ The hand that had curled into a fist in front of his face reaches to his side, where his travel bag stands high enough to pass the top of his head. It opens from the top, and as it falls into his lap, out spills a wide stretch of pink cloth. Eren groans uncomfortably and pulls it out with some struggle, holding it in her direction. ]
This is for you.
[ What this was exactly, was a pale pink shawl that without even taking a long look at, was hand-knit; there are flaws evident in its make that anyone with a set of eyes could notice. One side is ever so slightly uneven, longer than the other, and the seam at its edge had in numerous places several stitches too many. Where Eren holds it, the hood seems much too large to be used at all.
With how it dangles in the air between them, his gift to her ought to keep Ophilia from seeing past all its little mistakes, much to Eren's relief. The look on his face now, he knew, was one much more embarrassed than he would have had he the foresight to package the gift the way she had for him. ]
[ Ophilia’s first instinct is to demur, to tell him he shouldn’t have, but the sight of her gift—its lop-sided hood, strange length and all—renders her speechless.
She loves it.
Why Eren’s embarrassed, she’s not sure, because the thought and care he’s put into his gift is evident in every loop of wool. It looks even better once she’s able to hold it up by the shoulders and admire it in all its glory. The tassel-lined hem is a nice touch, she thinks, and she especially likes the way the shawl tapers off to a point at the back.
They can spend all morning by the crystal tree, fussing over whose gift is better. They can spend all morning arguing why he thinks his uneven stitching has ruined everything or why she thinks they’re just what makes it charming. But they won’t. Ophilia unclasps her cape and drapes her new one over her shoulders, promptly ending their debate. ]
What do you think? [ She showcases his work with a twirl small and shy. ] Does it suit me?
[ Before he can even begin to criticize himself, Ophilia wordlessly quiets him. Eren had expected her to wear it; he never thought she would spend even a second appraising it beforehand. When she does put it on, still without a word spoken, his nerves reach their limit. But seeing her show it off with such enthusiasm, he knows now he has nothing to worry about. ]
Yeah. [ If he doesn't force it, his voice comes out sounding soft, almost weak. ] It does.
[ Ever so modest, Ophilia had little in the way of a wardrobe. It occurred to him not long after they had met, but it took up until now for Eren to do anything about it. He thinks it's worth the wait. Whatever regrets he might have are washed away by her new look.
A square box, tied together by twine and small enough to be held in one hand is placed at the base of their tree. Eren does it so unremarkably it would be easy to miss if there were anything else going on. But immediately after, he rises to his feet, hopefully drawing her attention away. ]
You always wear the same thing. [ His hands bring two ends of the hood together and tie a neat little knot, right over her heart. ] If I hadn't made this, I'd never have known how good you look with a little color.
[ Eren’s approval is a gift all its own, lighting her face up and warming her from head to toe. ]
I’m glad you think so.
[ It’s hard to hold still while he fastens everything together. Overwhelmed by a giddy, nervous energy, it comes out the moment he lets go in back-and-forth sways. The shawl dances with her, and as the ends of it run over and tickle her arms, she almost wishes she’d treated herself to something like this sooner. ]
I’ve never been one for finery and such, so I was worried that perhaps it wouldn’t. [ She feels silly for having thought otherwise. ] I like it, though. I like it very much.
[ His heart soars in his chest, and he breathes much easier after hearing Ophilia express her thoughts. For once he feels like his efforts are being rewarded. ]
...I'm glad, too.
[ Watching her is more than mesmerizing, it's infectious. From the satisfaction on her face to the way she sways from side to side, there's very little stopping Eren from joining in. He almost manages to remain steady, but is eventually tempted to at the very least reach forward, take her shawl by the hem and flare it out into the air behind her.
When he finally stops ogling her, his eyes follow hers to the base of the tree where earlier he had been sitting. ]
I...haven't. [ Then, for the first time that morning, Eren touches her. His fingers wrap around her wrist and she ought to not only see, but feel his excitement as he guides her down to the floor. ] Let's open them together.
[ That’s all the invitation Ophilia needs. She beams, so giddy she could jump on the spot. ]
I’d love to!
[ She doesn’t want to seem overeager, but goodness is it hard not to drop to her knees and rush over to his side. It takes their legs bumping into each other to bring her back down to earth. She settles a few respectful inches away from him, hands folded in her lap and skirt tucked underneath her. ]
You seemed… troubled just now. I thought that meant you’d already opened it. [ A quick look down confirms that, contrary to what the niggling little voice in the back of her mind’s been telling her, he still hasn’t. ] You’ll tell me if you don’t like it, won’t you?
[ There hadn't been time at all to open anything. Eren thought he had been smart, waking up just a short few minutes before her to get a first glimpse at what she had hidden from him for so long, only to spend most of it contemplating the letter.
Back when they were still hardly more than strangers, Ophilia had brought him a gift. Both then and now, he could feel his heart beat a little faster at the thought of what lay within. ]
Sure will. [ His tongue-in-cheek tone shrugs her concern off. ] Don't think I'll have to.
[ And he doesn't. Eren, as always, pulls her wrapping apart carefully, bit by bit, and manages to only tear the paper once or twice. The contents of the box, no longer hidden inside, glisten as he holds it in the air in front of him. To Eren, the glassware containing the oil is more dazzling than any crystal he's seen here. ]
So this is what you meant. [ The sigh that follows comes with a smile that he can barely hide. Curling his fingers around the bottle, he uses the same hand to push the poorly-wrapped cube in Ophilia's direction. ] Your turn.
[ It's no bigger than her hands when they're clasped together. Pulling away the knot on top and taking the cover off exposes a heap of shredded paper. Eren brushes it off with one hand to reveal what lay inside:
A snowglobe.
Within stands two figures, both cloaked in white. They hold hands atop a hill that peaks towards one side, facing a church that stands just off the center. Gently, snow falls over their heads, until the scenery goes still again. ]
[ Using both hands, Ophilia picks up her present and feels for where the wrapping paper starts. Getting rid of it all is no small task—especially not with how much tape he’s used—but with enough patience and determination, she’s able to take it off and keep it in one whole (if a bit crumpled) piece. The lid comes off next, and once Eren’s taken care of the packaging keeping it safe, she scoops up what’s beneath.
One look at the couple in the glass—girls, she knows, even with their hoods drawn over their heads—is all it takes. They, the hill they’re looking over, and the cathedral not too far off from them are all too familiar. Her eyes fly wide. The realization blindsides her completely, leaving her winded like a blow full to the gut.
It’s her. It’s Lianna. It’s home. ]
Eren, I—
[ Ophilia’s voice breaks under the weight of the memory. She doesn’t know whether to laugh or to throw her arms around him and cry. She decides to do neither, hanging her head instead. ]
[ With how little he knew of her home, some liberties had to be taken. The scene inside the glass was hardly a match for her memory. But Eren wouldn't know that. All he knows is that when Ophilia overlooked her home town with her sister, she was happy. Something which he couldn't say about her now.
But he thinks no less of her for feeling the way she does. All he holds against her is his hand at her back, which reaches up to her shoulder and ever so slightly pulls her head back up. When she's able to lock eyes with him, his are kind. ]
...you haven't even looked at the bottom yet.
[ Eren's given her many strange hugs, for even stranger reasons. This time, he does it so that he can cover her arms and hands with his own and keep her steady where she needs it most. Turning the snowglobe over reveals a thin knob on the bottom - what it's there for isn't immediately obvious. ]
Go ahead. Give it a turn, first. Then tell me if you want it or not.
[ With his hands there to guide her, Ophilia winds the key. Inside, something clicks and whirrs to life, and though the snowscape remains frozen still, she watches intently in fear she might miss something if she doesn’t.
The music box chimes just as she turns to look to Eren, commanding her attention back immediately. It plucks note after gentle note to a tune she’s never heard before. All the same, it sounds like home—like how a snowflake should twinkle when the light catches on it just right.
When the song ends, it does mid-bar on an awkward step between notes. She hates that it’s over. Her heart aches, fit to burst with a riotous spectrum of feeling—of sadness, of longing, of happiness and delight. How best can she put that to voice? ]
Oh, but it’s…
[ It’s so many things. It’s wonderful, beautiful, entirely unlike anything she’s ever seen or heard, and… ]
It’s magical. Truly.
[ And in the warm circle of his arms, it’s mesmerizing. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Somehow, Ophilia manages to do the impossible and sneak it in without him noticing—or at least without him asking. His present, along a note she’s tacked on top, wait for him underneath the villa’s crystal tree. ]
To my dear friend Eren,
I cannot express how grateful I am for all you’ve done—not in words, and certainly not with a simple gift.
I should like to think you’ve since cleaned it, but I hope you’ll accept this nonetheless. Perhaps they’ll help when next you make a mess of it.
May your holidays be blessed and merry.
Ophilia Clement
[ Hidden inside the box are bottles of polish and oil, accompanied by a brush meant to help with gun maintenance. ]
no subject
...Oh. Ophilia. [ When he hears how hoarse his voice is, he clears his throat - painfully. ] You're up.
[ The hand that had curled into a fist in front of his face reaches to his side, where his travel bag stands high enough to pass the top of his head. It opens from the top, and as it falls into his lap, out spills a wide stretch of pink cloth. Eren groans uncomfortably and pulls it out with some struggle, holding it in her direction. ]
This is for you.
[ What this was exactly, was a pale pink shawl that without even taking a long look at, was hand-knit; there are flaws evident in its make that anyone with a set of eyes could notice. One side is ever so slightly uneven, longer than the other, and the seam at its edge had in numerous places several stitches too many. Where Eren holds it, the hood seems much too large to be used at all.
With how it dangles in the air between them, his gift to her ought to keep Ophilia from seeing past all its little mistakes, much to Eren's relief. The look on his face now, he knew, was one much more embarrassed than he would have had he the foresight to package the gift the way she had for him. ]
no subject
She loves it.
Why Eren’s embarrassed, she’s not sure, because the thought and care he’s put into his gift is evident in every loop of wool. It looks even better once she’s able to hold it up by the shoulders and admire it in all its glory. The tassel-lined hem is a nice touch, she thinks, and she especially likes the way the shawl tapers off to a point at the back.
They can spend all morning by the crystal tree, fussing over whose gift is better. They can spend all morning arguing why he thinks his uneven stitching has ruined everything or why she thinks they’re just what makes it charming. But they won’t. Ophilia unclasps her cape and drapes her new one over her shoulders, promptly ending their debate. ]
What do you think? [ She showcases his work with a twirl small and shy. ] Does it suit me?
no subject
Yeah. [ If he doesn't force it, his voice comes out sounding soft, almost weak. ] It does.
[ Ever so modest, Ophilia had little in the way of a wardrobe. It occurred to him not long after they had met, but it took up until now for Eren to do anything about it. He thinks it's worth the wait. Whatever regrets he might have are washed away by her new look.
A square box, tied together by twine and small enough to be held in one hand is placed at the base of their tree. Eren does it so unremarkably it would be easy to miss if there were anything else going on. But immediately after, he rises to his feet, hopefully drawing her attention away. ]
You always wear the same thing. [ His hands bring two ends of the hood together and tie a neat little knot, right over her heart. ] If I hadn't made this, I'd never have known how good you look with a little color.
no subject
I’m glad you think so.
[ It’s hard to hold still while he fastens everything together. Overwhelmed by a giddy, nervous energy, it comes out the moment he lets go in back-and-forth sways. The shawl dances with her, and as the ends of it run over and tickle her arms, she almost wishes she’d treated herself to something like this sooner. ]
I’ve never been one for finery and such, so I was worried that perhaps it wouldn’t. [ She feels silly for having thought otherwise. ] I like it, though. I like it very much.
Did you open yours?
no subject
...I'm glad, too.
[ Watching her is more than mesmerizing, it's infectious. From the satisfaction on her face to the way she sways from side to side, there's very little stopping Eren from joining in. He almost manages to remain steady, but is eventually tempted to at the very least reach forward, take her shawl by the hem and flare it out into the air behind her.
When he finally stops ogling her, his eyes follow hers to the base of the tree where earlier he had been sitting. ]
I...haven't. [ Then, for the first time that morning, Eren touches her. His fingers wrap around her wrist and she ought to not only see, but feel his excitement as he guides her down to the floor. ] Let's open them together.
no subject
I’d love to!
[ She doesn’t want to seem overeager, but goodness is it hard not to drop to her knees and rush over to his side. It takes their legs bumping into each other to bring her back down to earth. She settles a few respectful inches away from him, hands folded in her lap and skirt tucked underneath her. ]
You seemed… troubled just now. I thought that meant you’d already opened it. [ A quick look down confirms that, contrary to what the niggling little voice in the back of her mind’s been telling her, he still hasn’t. ] You’ll tell me if you don’t like it, won’t you?
no subject
Back when they were still hardly more than strangers, Ophilia had brought him a gift. Both then and now, he could feel his heart beat a little faster at the thought of what lay within. ]
Sure will. [ His tongue-in-cheek tone shrugs her concern off. ] Don't think I'll have to.
[ And he doesn't. Eren, as always, pulls her wrapping apart carefully, bit by bit, and manages to only tear the paper once or twice. The contents of the box, no longer hidden inside, glisten as he holds it in the air in front of him. To Eren, the glassware containing the oil is more dazzling than any crystal he's seen here. ]
So this is what you meant. [ The sigh that follows comes with a smile that he can barely hide. Curling his fingers around the bottle, he uses the same hand to push the poorly-wrapped cube in Ophilia's direction. ] Your turn.
[ It's no bigger than her hands when they're clasped together. Pulling away the knot on top and taking the cover off exposes a heap of shredded paper. Eren brushes it off with one hand to reveal what lay inside:
A snowglobe.
Within stands two figures, both cloaked in white. They hold hands atop a hill that peaks towards one side, facing a church that stands just off the center. Gently, snow falls over their heads, until the scenery goes still again. ]
no subject
One look at the couple in the glass—girls, she knows, even with their hoods drawn over their heads—is all it takes. They, the hill they’re looking over, and the cathedral not too far off from them are all too familiar. Her eyes fly wide. The realization blindsides her completely, leaving her winded like a blow full to the gut.
It’s her. It’s Lianna. It’s home. ]
Eren, I—
[ Ophilia’s voice breaks under the weight of the memory. She doesn’t know whether to laugh or to throw her arms around him and cry. She decides to do neither, hanging her head instead. ]
… It’s too much. I couldn’t possibly accept this.
no subject
But he thinks no less of her for feeling the way she does. All he holds against her is his hand at her back, which reaches up to her shoulder and ever so slightly pulls her head back up. When she's able to lock eyes with him, his are kind. ]
...you haven't even looked at the bottom yet.
[ Eren's given her many strange hugs, for even stranger reasons. This time, he does it so that he can cover her arms and hands with his own and keep her steady where she needs it most. Turning the snowglobe over reveals a thin knob on the bottom - what it's there for isn't immediately obvious. ]
Go ahead. Give it a turn, first. Then tell me if you want it or not.
no subject
The music box chimes just as she turns to look to Eren, commanding her attention back immediately. It plucks note after gentle note to a tune she’s never heard before. All the same, it sounds like home—like how a snowflake should twinkle when the light catches on it just right.
When the song ends, it does mid-bar on an awkward step between notes. She hates that it’s over. Her heart aches, fit to burst with a riotous spectrum of feeling—of sadness, of longing, of happiness and delight. How best can she put that to voice? ]
Oh, but it’s…
[ It’s so many things. It’s wonderful, beautiful, entirely unlike anything she’s ever seen or heard, and… ]
It’s magical. Truly.
[ And in the warm circle of his arms, it’s mesmerizing. ]
Thank you, Eren.