Coordinating a wish

I could not tell whether it was as a creative or as a human with a heart that drew me to the woman that stood before me.

And yet, with apprehension twisting the expression on my face, I did so. I did not think that the beating of my heart was feelings for the creative herself. I imagined it was some profound respect, like I had once had for the masters of crafts within my old world.

The quick-beating of my ever-stilled heart was simple respect for Theresia Hayes.

She wore the same simple midnight skirt layered over a white-satin blouse, now stained lightly with flecks of paint and dirt. Under the dim light of the backstage setting, her ocean eyes held midnight within them, and I was once again reminded of why I stood before her.

Trying desperately to appease the stinging flush of my cheeks, and do away with the apprehension that clung to my throat as if to scare away words that held hopes of meeting the air.

“Watching your work... it was like staring at the stars once again.” I spoke suddenly, trying desperately to keep my voice from wavering.

She held a confused look on her face in that moment, and in parallel did my expression grow shocked.

I had misspoken amidst my own excitement.

“I’m sorry... I’m not sure what you mean.” She spoke sheepishly in reply.

All Theresia Hayes had ever known had been a sky blanketed in an orange haze.

“No, forget it.” I shook my head, a sheepish smile crossing my face as I spoke. “All I mean to say is that your play eased my heart. Your words moved me.”

I closed my eyes, grabbing hold of the thought that had been bouncing around amidst all others, as if searching through a sea of thinking processes in desperation. My unquieted mind was my only true curse in that moment.

“I wish to work with you.” I spoke simply, meeting her gaze with a seriousness that I forced into mine.

“In an empty theatre? Why would you wish to do such a thing?”

“Perhaps its too silly a feeling to even mention, but I have grown to enjoy your works, Theresia.” I smiled.

Her expression faltered in an instant, and surprise quickly replaced her gentle demeanor. Amidst the blush of her face, I could see a smile start to twist upwards upon her expression.

In the silent bustle of the backstage atmosphere, the two of us stood hushed and alone within the dimly-lit darkness. Standing so close to the woman who held her passionate heart within her gaze, I suddenly felt myself wanting to know more about her.

I did not know why I had felt in such a way.

I just wanted to know more about an alike creative mind.

“Why do you do what you do, even when no one pays gaze towards your effort?” I asked of her. “How do you move forward on such a lonely path?”

Theresia lost herself within thought, as if measuring her own words. We stood in peace for an extended moment, and the bustle around us seemed to all but cease.

Within the backstage, we were caught in an enclosed moment that belonged to only us.

“The hearts of the people are broken. The war has gone on too long, and its reason has lost all meaning in their eyes.” She spoke softly in return, shaking her head. “I want to give them something to look forward to, even if it is just one person that sits as audience...”

I grinned upon hearing her words, my eyes filling with admiration in an instant. I then knew well why I had been drawn to the playwright who worked in silence.

“You want to give them all smiles.” I said in return, the excitement of my heart too great to bear.

I came to a quick realisation as endless thoughts burnt quickly through my mind.

In that moment, I had truly fallen for the works of Theresia Hayes.

“You’re the same, aren’t you? You once spoke of your selfishness within your kindness... but I have heard often the name ‘Agreste’ whispered around Aethine.” Theresia smiled softly. “So then, it was simple posturing, wasn’t it? You wouldn’t have felt guilt for standing idle. You just have a kind heart that you don’t want to be recognised. I wonder why that is?”

“I don’t want to be praised for who I am. It feels weird.” I spoke sheepishly, shaking my head.

In that moment I realised my face had grown to be reddened against her words.

Placing gentle fingers against my softened cheek, I began to wonder. How could my face flush for her in such a way? Why did praise only feel warm when coming from her?

Could that still be called respect for another creative?

“Very well. If you would like to work alongside me, then I would welcome such a thing. I’m quite in need of an assistant playwright.” Theresia smiled.

She started walking through the backstage setting of the theatre, and I followed her footsteps at a quickened pace. Even in her own space did she too carry the bustle of the steaming city.

“Are the people around us not enough help?”

I glanced around, and could see several figures walking by. They were the crew that had produced the play, the designers that had set the stage, and the actors that had spoken Theresia’s words with fabricated and meaningful emotion.

“My works are wholly funded by a nobleman who will not speak his own name, but even then this is all I can manage. I do not mind speaking to an audience of blankened personages, but there is truly no monetary return from a silent room.” Theresia laughed nervously. “I am playwright to an audience of no one. You might not find satisfaction working alongside me.”

“That’s not something I’m worried about.” I shook my head in an assuring manner.

Something had been bothering me ever since I had arrived in Crelle. There was not a single thing that had been pushing me forward. It felt as if I was just aimlessly walking.

Theresia reached out her hand, and I took it with my own. I could feel the callouses upon her hand, and the softness of her skin despite them. Each curving line that weaved amist each other upon her palm had been engraved into my memory in that moment.

Now, my mind seemed to feel at ease. In that moment, as our palms met, and our hands shook, I felt an intense calm. I had a drive entwined within my heart, for I had been bound to the story of Theresia Hayes.

For some reason, it was a path I was wholly invested in. I wanted to bring Theresia’s works to the forefront of the bronze city.

I wanted everyone to experience her words, and I wanted to be beside her when it happened.

“Well, it’s going to be nice to have someone around to take care of all of the mundane work. Now truly can I-” Her words were cut short in an instant.

Theresia’s legs buckled underneath her, and she fell quickly towards the ground. Lurching forward, my hands fell quickly underneath her cascading form of midnight. Holding her gently within my arms, my knees had fallen hard to the floor.

“Ah, sorry. I’ve burnt myself out.” She spoke in a quieted, hushed tone. “I tend to work a little harder than I should…”

“Because you had no assistant playwright to carry the weight of the world for you?” I smiled softly, meeting her gaze with a gentleness I had not chosen willingly to summon.

“Yes, that must be it. I’m a little tired.” Theresia laughed softly. “I haven’t really had time to sleep in recent days…”

I could tell well that darkened bags had formed under her eyelids, a gentle shade of sleeplessness against her almond-coloured skin.

I pulled her in close towards my chest, my arms soft around her form as I wrapped my cloak around her. Only then did I realise in comparison, Theresia was slightly shorter than I was.

“Then, my dearest Theresia, I will hold you still so that you may rest.” I smiled softly. “This will be my first act as your assistant playwright.”

Her face fell flush, and she was only able to nod in return amidst her surprise.

“You don’t look particularly look undine or spriggan in any fashion, do you?” She asked of me.

“I am simply Agreste.”

Theresia grabbed hold of the collar of my shirt, pulling me in closer as her expression held a gentle smile unparalleled by even the wind.

“Then you simply be Agreste in my eyes, from now and forever.” Theresia whispered softly into my ear. “I will not ponder further on the matter, so simply try your hardest to be my assistant from now on, in the greatest fashion you can achieve.”

In a near moment, Theresia placed her lips upon my softened cheek.

In turn were they filled with a bright blush, and I turned to meet her gaze as she pulled away.

But my quick-beating heart matched the bustle of the steam city in that moment, for it would not cease.

I could only nod in response as a haze washed over my endlessly-racing thoughts.

I wondered why my heart had been grasped so tightly by Theresia Hayes.

I wondered if I was content saying it was because I admired her as a creative.