𝒯𝑜 𝒫𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒲𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒫𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃:
(A Larissa Weems x fem!reader fanfic) (Part 7)
(Part 6) (Part 5) (Part 4) (Part 3) (Part 2) (Part 1)
★☆★﹒☆★☆﹒★☆★﹒☆★☆
Larissa.
Larissa.
Larissa…
It was Greek.
Larissa.
Originating from the nymph daughter of Pelasgus. Or the city in Greece - meaning ‘citadel’.
Larissa.
She was kind of like a citadel, wasn’t she?
Larissa…
As tall as a tower spire… unyielding and fierce… glowing in honorable brilliance. Noticeable from so far away - like a glimmering star caught in midnight’s grasp, suspended within the sky and beckoning attention like a moth to flame.
And since she was the flame, you were the moth. The mindless devoted little creature that sought her warmth for no more than a moment before falling prey to her heat. Finding yourself endlessly mesmerized by all things her- by all things Larissa.
—
And of course, right after getting the chance to properly meet her, the universe decided to punt you out of a window and stomp on your pathetic little broken body.
‘Hah! Suffer, bitch!’ The heavens cackled before keeping you away from your new muse and making life at work far busier than it usually was.
There were times in the past where that happened- when work became ‘too much’ and you’d return home with paint stains on your clothing and designer bags under your eyes. Unfortunately, being the assistant to a very important modern-day artist could do that to a person - but you didn’t expect everyone to know that. You certainly didn’t expect Larissa to know that - Which is one of the reasons why you were panicking. Did she visit the station while you were gone? Did she sit there and wait for you as you had done in the past and assumed that you were no longer interested? Did she think you were crazy and only watched her until she introduced herself and then decided to run off somewhere else? Did she hold a grudge? Was she waiting for you at that exact moment? When the train doors opened, would you see her there? Sitting on the bench and minding her own business until her own train arrived? Would she say hello to you? Would she glare, thinking you had started avoiding her? Oh god what if she started avoiding you? What if she decided that your hot and cold way of acting (even though your absence wasn’t planned) was just too annoying to interact with? What if she started sitting on the other side of the platform again? What if she didn’t want to talk to you anymore? What if she just wanted to return to being strangers?
That last thought weighed heavily on your shoulders as you felt the train slow down.
Only a week - a week! - without seeing her and you felt as though you were going mad. Yes, you had spent time apart in the past but when that happened, she was the one who had disappeared. And you had been left to look at the spot across from you, forlorn and silly and desperate for her return. Now, she was the one waiting - if she even bothered to do so at all. Hell, you wouldn't blame her if she had walked off and tried to erase you from her memory forever. After all, you had only one conversation, and she spoke 90% of the time, and the rest of the time you spent staring and trying to act normal, so really it wouldn’t be shocking if you never saw her again.
Ping!
Such thinking saw you leaving the train with a frown on your face and a slump to your shoulders. The more you thought about it, the more your heart ached; because technically you and Larissa were still strangers. Just because you knew her name didn’t mean anything. And just because you had never ever seen anyone so angelic- (and just because you didn’t think anyone more angelic than her even existed out there)- didn’t mean anything. Because at the end of the day, like every other day, she was still just Larissa and you were still just you. And that’s why she’d never wait for you on that bench, holding her purse, watching the crowd with searching eyes.
…
Or…
Or perhaps…
Maybe… she would?
Once you finally stepped onto the platform and chanced a glance up so you didn’t trip and fall over yourself like an idiot, a flash of white to your left caught your attention. It was so quick, so rapid, flitting in and out of the bustle of people, that you thought for a good moment that it wasn’t anything at all. But the second everything cleared and you walked closer to ‘your’ bench, intent on catching your breath and sitting for a moment, the sweetest of plot twists struck like lightning.
There was Larissa, your own darling stranger, scanning the crowd and sitting so politely with her purse in her lap and her legs crossed at the ankles. Never in your life had you reacted to seeing a person in the same way you did in that moment. It was like you were an empty bottle and that brilliant star of a woman came over and poured sunlight into your plastic emptiness and gave you a renewed sense of existence. It was like the world had finally turned around and gifted you something strong and hopeful and worth keeping. Like it was saying ‘Here. It’s tentative and strange and hesitant right now, but we both know you have nothing left to lose so just take the opportunity and go with it.’ And you, who couldn’t pass up a chance to finally feel a connection with someone again, picked up the pace and started waving to get Larissa’s attention. As you did, a small smile began to tug at your lips so suddenly- so unconsciously- that it took you a moment to register why your face felt so strange.
It was because you were smiling- no, grinning- at the mere sight of her.
And once she finally met your gaze and registered that your waving was for her, she grinned back in reply.
To anyone else, the exchange would seem quite heart-warming. ‘Awww old friends,’ they’d think, ‘Reuniting after some time apart.’ Or maybe they’d assume, ‘A family friend picking up a relative. How cute.’ Or- or- ‘Girlfriends. Definitely. Girlfriends that are clearly very excited to go home and live their combined romantic lives together.’ As you approached Larissa with a bounce in your step and flush to your cheeks, that last thought had your heart racing.
If only…
“Hi,” you breathed, a bit out of breath, as you came to a stop at her side.
Instantly, Larissa shuffled over for you to take a seat. The small action was full of such familiarity that it nearly overwhelmed you.
“Hello. Long time, no see,” she turned to you, raising an eyebrow.
Clearly she had questions- but you were much too focused on something greater, like seeing her again. Goodness it was like every time you had the immense earthly pleasure of setting your eyes on her once more, the life was knocked out of your body. How could someone be so glorious? How could the blue of her eyes be so deep? So never-ending? So lovely that all you wanted to do for the rest of your life was become lost in them? Had anyone ever even informed her of how enchanting her eyes were? Or how dangerous? Or how unspeakably beautiful? You felt compelled to do so in the moment- it was really balancing on the tip of your tongue, waiting to be blurted out and cause embarrassment- but Larissa beat you to the metaphorical punch.
“I figured it was my time to wait, since you did the same for me so patiently last time.” Ah. There was that teasing tone you had missed so desperately. It didn’t fail to bring a giggle to your throat that made you feel like a high schooler again as you nodded and shrugged sheepishly.
“Yeah, I’m really sorry. Work got super busy out of nowhere and I was coming home at crazy hours. It wasn’t intentional, I promise.” There was an urgency to your voice that you simply couldn’t get rid of; like you needed her to know as soon as possible that you would never not want to see her; that you would rather cut your own arm off than miss a day of getting to know her. After all, similar to fruit flies, once you got a taste you couldn’t stop.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Larissa soothed. “I understand the pressures of work quite well. I only hope you weren’t too stressed?”
Her worry was like a balm on your raw soul.
“Well… I mean it sucked but I think everything’s calmed down now. I’m sorry to leave you so long,” you gave her a small smile and tried desperately to hide the shine in your eyes.
“What have I said about apologizing? You have nothing to worry about- it’s only right that I return the favor of waiting,” she replied with a smirk painting her red lips.
The sight of it brought a strong flush to your cheeks.
The favor of waiting… of course. She knew you had been sitting there like an idiot for however long, watching her from across the way, yearning stupidly. Well the yearning part you had yet to confirm, but the glimmer in her eye whispered things she knew about you that even you didn’t know. It was exhilarating - it was terrifying.
“Right, well thank you. For- waiting. Very sweet of you,” you inclined your head in thanks and fiddled with the strap of your purse.
“Mmm, I only wish I knew who I was waiting for,” the lilt in her tone had you looking up.
She rose an eyebrow as a smile painted her fair skin; showing off the cutest bits of crows feet as she teased you.
Right. You never told her your name. Ugh. Stupid. You’d been rolling her beautiful name around in your head for days and she had absolutely no clue who you were. The thought of her sitting there, unsure of the person she was waiting for, made you frown. But of course, like many awkward encounters, it could be remedied. So you held out your hand, straightened in your spot, and smiled.
“My name is Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The humor in her expression made a fresh burst of smug excitement explode within you. You had a feeling she would like that little display. And when the slide of a leather glove kissed the soft skin of your paint-stained palm, you cheered internally. Such boldness wasn’t something you exuded very often- your racing heart could attest- but it felt worth it around Larissa. After all, your moments together were fleeting. You had to take whatever chance you could while you were still privy to her sweet existence.
“Likewise. Thank you for keeping me company, Y/N,” Larissa’s grip was perfect - not too tight and not too loose and just right in a way that made you want to hold her hand for forever.
“Of course.” It was the only thing you thought to say.
There was more on your mind, sure, but everything else was so hard to phrase. How could you tell the new strange object of your affections that, although you barely knew her, meeting her had changed your monotonous routine and thus, made you want to live again? How could you tell her that her existence had opened up a locked room in your heart and introduced you to the prospect of love once more? How could you say anything of substance, or admit anything at all, when the only thing you knew about her was her first name and what you saw on the outside? For gods’ sake, she could be a serial killer! A very well-dressed serial killer with amazing manners and lovely hair, but a serial killer nonetheless. Or, she could have intense anger issues - to the point where she was dangerous. There was nothing inherently wrong with that, as long as one recognized their behavior and worked to fix it, but still. More often than not, The Devil showed up draped in white silk. And you knew for a fact that Larissa totally wore pearl colored silk. Or eggshell colored silk. Or ivory colored silk. Or vanilla colored silk. Or even-
“Do you paint?”
Her lyrical accent blinked you out of your stupor. Glancing around, you saw instantly what had caught her attention. There were smears of pinks and greens along your knuckles and fingertips – creating a little landscape on your skin that you watched Larissa’s sapphire eyes trace with curiosity. It brought a bashful smile to your lips.
“Yes- well- no? Yes. It’s complicated,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes when Larissa let out a small twinkling giggle.
“Care to explain?”
You were sure the surprise in your gaze caught her off guard just as much as her interest did you.
See there was one thing that not many people mentioned when regarding loneliness. When your heart finally decided to leap back into humanity’s pool of fish, adjusting was terribly difficult. You floundered for a bit and lost your ability to swim and your gills had closed up and your webbed fingers were stiff. It was as though you had to never known how to speak in the first place, and interacting with others suddenly became the most challenging thing to do in the history of ever. So when someone came along and showed interest and asked you questions and looked at you as if you were truly noticed, the brain sort of… paused. Like the programming was so old and so covered in dust and isolation that you had to go through quite a bit of time searching for the file that said ‘Accepting Positive Interest’ before you could even hope to respond. And by that point, when you had finally caught up, the other person was worried that they had said something out of turn and honestly- really- it all became a big mess of bubbles and fish and grass and stumbling minds and outdated source codes.
And because you had spent so long by yourself, trying hard to ignore the fact that your heart was slowly cracking within your chest as you laid asleep alone at night, the same damned thing happened to you. Larissa’s eyes, flickering with light worry, looked between your own until you finally shook your head and cleared your throat.
“S-sorry, I just don’t- I don’t really get out much so um- anyway, yeah I used to paint but not anymore. I prefer drawing. This is just from my job, I’m an artist’s assistant so stuff like this happens all the time,” the words poured out of you like a backed up waterfall finally reaching full capacity - spilling out of your mouth and bringing an embarrassing hunch to your shoulders as you turned your left hand over and showed her the paint on your palm. You couldn’t meet her eyes.
It was silent for a moment before Larissa let out a thoughtful hum and reached forward, dragging the tip of her right index over a particular swirl of colors. Baby blue, forest green, and a white blotch. You tilted your head, curious as to why she pointed out that spot when there were so many more interesting ones - like the magenta on your ring finger, caked beneath your nail - and the black from a messy paint tube that you accidentally pressed the side of your hand against - and the twitch in your fingers as she drew a sweet little circle over and over in the same spot.
“This bit here looks like a flower,” she mused beneath her breath, making you instantly stomp down a shiver that tried to worm its way into your body.
You glanced at her for a moment, once again committing the shape of her face to memory, before looking back to where she was focusing and coming to the conclusion that she was right: it did look like a flower. A very strange abstract flower that could possibly make for a killer design if one used the right medium to portray it. You couldn’t help but nod and agree with a small hum.
“I get paint all over myself constantly - which is surprising because I’m not even that clumsy. It just happens,” you shrugged.
Larissa pulled back after a second and made eye contact with you. Goodness that glimmer in her eyes… it was dangerous to anyone who had a heart.
“Are you certain you’re not clumsy?” And she glanced down at your hand for a split second before looking up again.
And the sheer comedic timing of her expression, and the judging lilt in her voice, made you giggle quite loudly - to the point where you put a hand over your mouth and forced your laughter to die down. She had joined in too, chuckling softly beneath her breath. It was such a pretty noise… you wanted to bottle it and keep it with you forever. Like a siren’s call, hypnotizing and entrancing. You were sure that that very second marked the moment you’d forever try to make her burst out into cackles. Everyone had it in them, you knew she did too. And you were nothing if not determined to hear such unrestrained joy one day. But until then, you’d settle for a small shared chuckle and a bright white-toothed smile.
“Are you always this sassy to your train station companions?” You rose an eyebrow.
“Perhaps,” she shrugged, “though it’s not often I meet one so indiscreet.”
And cue the flush that was bound to return at some point. It flooded your skin, making your cheeks warm, and forcing your head into your palms.
“God I’m sorry for being a creep,” your voice was muffled, “You were just an interesting subject.”
“Were or are?”
You blinked, looking up through the cracks in your fingers to see her tilted head and relaxed humorous expression. Dragging your hands down your face, you sighed.
“Both, I guess.”
She hummed, looking thoughtful for a moment.
“Interesting… and it’s just like an artist to call someone a ‘subject’, isn’t it? I suppose you fit the bill quite well.”
“Oh did the paint not give it away?”
“No no, the paint said a lot - but it sounded more like a preschooler trying to hold a conversation rather than a seasoned artist engaging in their hobby.”
Her sass pulled a surprised guffaw from you.
“Jeez! Ripping me to shreds so quickly. I’m starting to think that’s the only reason you waited.” But that wasn’t true of course. You could see from her expression, and from the way she leaned into you naturally - like two close friends - that she was there for a reason. It was hard to believe said reason was you, but you were sure time would reveal all.
“I jest, I jest,” she sighed happily, holding up a hand like a white flag.
It was such a sweet little moment that you could barely believe it was happening. Only some weeks ago you weren’t aware that someone like Larissa ever existed – and then she popped up in your life like a plant blooming in Spring. Just trekking through the lavender fields of your mind before picking a spot to settle in and spread out her picnic blanket and have a cup of tea as she allowed herself to ruminate there. And in return, you were sure, you offered a break from her normal life as well. After all, it wasn’t every day that you willingly engaged in conversation with a stranger - and it had been a long time since you’d laughed like that. Safe to say, your heartbeat was off the charts and your mind was, for once, at ease; not as focused on the pressures of life. It was terribly interesting how someone you didn’t know could change you around like that.
But that was just it. You wanted to know her. You wanted to know her very badly. You had admitted that to yourself quite early on. You wanted to know her so desperately and so eagerly that before her train came and whisked her off into the ether once again, you knew you had to try and make headway. So you did. Straightening your shoulders and letting your eyes wander over the crowd, you tried hard to seem relaxed.
“So, you said you know about the pressures of work. May I ask what you do, Larissa?”
You turned your head to let her know she had your attention - but was instantly stopped by the look in her eyes. There was a quick flicker of hesitation on her face, showing in the brief crease of her eyebrows and frown of her lips, before she was nodding and answering your question.
“Yes; I’m a school principal.” She sounded quite serious, doing a complete 180 from her earlier demeanor as you sat at her side and let out an interested ‘hm’.
“Which school?” You smiled, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
She seemed quite serious about her career, and probably the privacy of her job, but you tried to seem warm and open. You were even going to say that she didn’t have to answer, but the words fell dead on your tongue as you watched a deep conflict played out behind the scenes of her mind; dancing like a candle within a jack-o-lantern, allowing bits of it to flit across her features before she schooled them once more and stared deep into your eyes. Keeping you there. Capturing you. Grasping all of your attention in her gloved hands and making you listen.
You held your breath.
“Nevermore Academy.”
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The Ao3 link is in the title. Thank you for the continued support! It means the world. I hope you enjoyed this one - more to come at some point lol. - Ripley x
★☆★﹒☆★☆﹒★☆★﹒☆★☆
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