Olive nodded, not wanting to prod. She glued her lips together, afraid that if she opened them the whole truth would spill out. A strand of dark hair slipped from her bun and out from under the helmet, and she wrapped it around her finger, humming absently.
Myrah went back to painting in silence. She had moved on to a shade of lilac in sunrise. Her nose was scrunched up in concentration and her mouth in a thin line.
Olive couldn't stop grinning like an idiot– Myrah looked so adorable with her nose all scrunched up and her lips pursed in concentration, there was no possible way she could stare at anything else when the Princess was there with her freckles and her curly hair and her soft, round lips…..
Myrah glanced back at Noah ever so often, but was focused in on her painting. She had almost finished with the background ready to move onto the silhouettes.
Olive swallowed, tearing her eyes away and fixing the, to her lap. "What else are you going to add? To the painting, I mean?" she managed, inhaling deeply.
"A surprise," Myrah shrugged. She put her brush in the jar of dirty water, "To both you and me. I have a general idea of what I want, just not how to do it."
Olive laughed lightly, barely refraining from reaching forward to brush a strand of hair out of Myrah's face. "Where did you learn how to paint? It looks amazing so far."
If Myrah didn't have make up on right now her face would be a tomato. Easily. Complements, particularly about her painting, made her light up. Coming from Noah seemed to amplify the effect. She laughed nervously, "I had a teacher. Most of it was myself though."
Was it her imagination or was there a nervous note in Myrah's face, not to mention the faintest tinge of pink peeking out from below her makeup? Olive's stupid, weak heart sped up. Resisting the urge to slap herself across the face, she glanced around, took a chance, and slipped her helmet off, fully revealing a slightly flushed face and a messy bun of dark hair. "It looks beautiful."
As do you.
The messy bun was, Myrah was dead. Somehow her face was redder, she didn't know how. How in the world did he look so hot with such a horrible bun? Maybe it was the bun. She stuttered out mouth agape, "T-thanks. Y-you t-too."
(Myrah is me in front of my crush oml)
Olive's blush deepened, and she somehow managed to meet Myrah's eyes without melting into a puddle. "Princess- Princess- I was– I was referring to the painting–" he stammered, heart thundering in his chest. "B-But– you look plenty beautiful too–"
(Lol)
Myrah was now a puddle. A puddle that now had to respond to the man who caused her to be a puddle, "O-Oh yes. Y-you're still beautiful too. And than-thank you."
All of a sudden, Olive was sick and tired of pretending. Myrah looked so flustered– so adorable, so gorgeous, that she couldn't stand it any longer. Her last shred of sanity cautioned her to play it safe, so instead of blurting out her gender, she reached up and pulled her hair down from its bun. It un-twisted itself slowly, falling just above her shoulders and framing her face in a messy curtain. She didn't know why– plenty of men had longer hair– but hers let down seemed to accentuate her more feminine features, and she was dying to see if Myrah would pick up on it if she didn't sau anything. "Th-Thanks, Princess."
Holy- Noah was a girl. It was obvious once her hair was down. She just- wow. Myrah was blind. Wait was Noah even her real name? Maybe that's why they got so flustered? If anything this made her think Noah? was even prettier. Her mouth was still wide open, "You're welcome m'lady."
The whole world around them slowed to a stop, along with Olive's heart. Myrah had caught on a lot quicker than she'd expected, and she had no idea what to do.
You idiot. You absolute idiot. Oh my god you're going to die.
Panicking, Olive brought her trembling hands to her face, chest heaving. "A-Anytime."
Myrah reached out for Noah's? hands. She gently took them within her own hands, "I think you're really pretty. So please don't be ashamed. I won't tell anyone either."
Olive stared down at their intertwined hands in disbelief. Her mind had stopped working, her heart was thumping out erratic beats, and she was trembling from head to toe. Fear, real fear, shone in her eyes. "I—– my name is Olive. I'm so sorry."
Myrah couldn't resist herself as she kissed Olive's cheek, "Don't apologize." And now she just outed herself, nope nope nope! Retreat retreat!
(Myrah is me oml)
Olive’s eyes widened in shock, her whole body locking up. She stared at
Myrah, hands tremoring even as the Princess held them in her own. “I—“ She finally recovered her ability to speak coherently. “Sir Arthur Gray. Imperial Knight. My father. I’m the runaway daughter.”
"Oh, so you are. That's interesting," Myrah's head wasn't connecting dots well. She was in a gay panic.
(I’m sorry but ‘she was in gay panic’ oh my god that’s beautiful)
Olive swallowed, shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath she took. “You- You’re not mad? That I lied to you?”
(I've been waiting forever to use that.)
Myrah shook her head quickly hair falling into her face, "No! Never!"
(That literally made my day omfg)
Olive’s hands reached forward of their own accord, slipping from the Princess’s grip, to push Myrah’s hair out of her gorgeous face. She pulled back immediately, as if she had been scalded. “I-I’m sorry— I need a moment— you’re the Princess— you can’t be doing this with me—“
Myrah grabbed Olive's hands again. Her eyes were wide, "But I want to do this with you. So please. Don't leave me."
Don’t leave me. Olive’s heart broke, just a little. “I- I won’t— I— Princess— you’re- you’re the heir to the throne- I’m not even a knight yet—“
(Also can we hold off on their first kiss? I’m feeling a bit of a slowish burn)