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Rapunzel loves spending quiet afternoons with Eugene. It feels strange, in a way; back when she was in the tower, she had abhorred silence with a burning passion, doing her best to fill it whenever possible. She talked, and sang, and made noises with her different activities, desperate for a life that she wasn't allowed to have.
It took a while for her to realise that the silence was never the issue. Even after she came to the castle, and reunited with her family, she still felt this unrelenting pull towards a freedom she couldn't even define. Nothing was enough, it seemed - not enough noise, not enough movement, she ended up restless even in the middle of doing something. So scared of missing an adventure that hadn't even begun, she had been unable to appreciate the moments as they came to her.
Eugene helped her learn to slow down.
She's not sure he realises it, exactly; she simply knows that with him, taking a break didn't seem insurmountable anymore. With him, it wasn't a missed opportunity, nor a sacrifice. The novelty she craved each and every day never wore off when it came to Eugene, and he made it easier for her to see that familiarity was beautiful in its own right. She knows that, when she got out of the tower, she felt like she would never have enough time to catch up on everything she had missed. Everything she discovered could never be discovered again, and inexorably, she ended up wanting more, running away from any sort of stability. But with Eugene, it becomes easy to stop; to smile, and see him smile too; to watch him, and appreciate each second of it. When she holds his hand, the pressure dissipates, and she's able to love without choking on a fear she can't name.
She'd stop time itself if that meant she could spend her forever with Eugene.
With him, she learns to breathe. For him, too. Sometimes, they'd lay on the grass in the middle of their dates, sunshine on their faces and fingers intertwined, and it was enough to make her heart sing. Life was more, when you took the time to let it go at its own pace.
Silence became a companion, instead of an enemy. It became a time to think; a time to create, simply for the joy it gave her; a time to enjoy what her life offered her everyday, while hoping and planning for what she could do next. Silence isn't the curse that it once was, and she revels in it. She learns to play with these beats, these empty spaces, until it’s all woven into her existence, and makes it full, somehow.
Rapunzel isn't rushing anymore - she's living.
And so, she loves quiet afternoons with Eugene. Of course she does. She loves spending time with him, even if they aren't doing anything but be in each other's company. Together for hours in the library, with snacks and books and each other, and Rapunzel can't even imagine something better than this.
She knows, now. She hadn't hated the silence - she had hated the loneliness.
But she's not alone anymore. She'll never be again, she's sure of it. Her family, her friends, Eugene, they’re all here to stay, no matter what happens. There's a peace that comes with this clarity. A warmth, too, burning in her heart and never leaving it.
Silence is trust. It's comfort, and intimacy, and love. It's being able to be together, without needing to do anything else, and not worrying about it.
They're on the sofa, in the library. Eugene hadn't wanted to read today, saying that he was tired, and only wanted to hang out with her. Soon enough, he's resting on her lap, and she's slowly going through a short story, one hand playing with his hair.
Eugene is warm against her. Like a heavy blanket, she told him, and he had laughed, looking up at her from his position. She brushed the hair out of his face, and resumed her reading one handed, because she didn't want to stop touching him.
It has been a while, since she last felt him shift. Softly, she strokes his hair away, before looking down at him. His eyes are closed, his mouth slack and his breathing even. He did say he was tired, she remembers, a smile on her face as she traces the outline of his jaw. His eyes flutter, his head turning a little towards her, but she simply has to put her hand in his hair again, and he settles back into sleep.
She's happy, in that instant. The quiet is peaceful, and she wouldn't trade moments like this for anything. She knows she's grown and changed, to be able to sit still and find joy in doing so; she knows that Eugene has grown and changed too, to be able to trust her at his most vulnerable, without a second thought. In these simple moments, she sees clearly how much they have matured, and healed, helping each other along the way.
Her hand finds his, resting limp against his chest. She holds it there, and is gently swayed up and down with his breathing. Her legs will end up falling asleep, she knows, but she doesn't try to move - she'll let him sleep, as long as he wants to.
She picks up her book again, and turns the page.