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Perhaps things are different where she comes from, because Fearne makes you incredibly nervous. Her rag-tag group of jolly jokesters had sat down next to you at breakfast one day and then immediately attached themselves to your side. Their excuse - mostly Opal's - was that they're all new in town and you seemed like you would make a good guide.
You don't mind too terribly much. They make for good company, good laughter, and… Well, Fearne sticks close to your side whenever your paths converge. She sticks incredibly close, which makes you incredibly nervous because she is so, so tall and has a monkey that is also a furnace.
They'd managed to snag you a room at their tavern - for ease of having their guide, apparently. That's what Dorian had said, at least. You don't mind, just like you don't mind that they shuffled around until you were sharing a room with the mysterious faun that had begun to steal your attention. That's where you find yourself in the dead of night. She's slumbering soundly in the extra-large bed, facedown, with Mister curled on her back. You've set yourself up at the little table, legs tucked under you as you think. While the group had attached to your side like a rather stubborn barnacle, Fearne is a different story. Her soft voice, wide eyes, and expressive ears seem to draw you in. She’s so cute, but also so powerful. It makes your stomach tight, especially the longer that you stay with her group as their guide to Emon. But you’re not sure where Fearne lies on the scale of hopeless romantic to romance repulsed, and you’d rather not find out by accident.
Like most things, you’d want to find out with purpose. You want to ask her out, maybe watch her flush, and take her out to the market for pastries and perhaps some mulled wine in the chill of the fall. You want to learn about her life - her grandmother and the Feywild and who she was before Emon. You want to be in her life in some other capacity than a guide, but you’re unsure how that would go. Considering how tightly her group seems to cling to one another - a byproduct of being small-town folk, bright-eyed and naive in the city for the first time - you’re not sure there’s space for you there. You shift in your chair, a frown deepening on your face as you think about where you’d fit in their merry little band.
It’s your shifting that seems to wake Fearne. You thought she was asleep but maybe she was somewhere between asleep and awake instead. She lifts her head, grumbling slightly incoherently and it brings a fond smile to your face. “Fearne,” You keep your voice soft and low, so it doesn’t startle her, “The night is still young. You should get some sleep.”
“And you?” She rolls over, dumping Mister off and onto the bed. He scrambles to avoid being rolled over on, settling up near Fearne’s horns on the pillow, “Will you sleep?”
“Eventually,” You admit, forcing your eyes away from her pleasantly sleepy face toward the window, “I have a little bit on my mind.” Fearne sits up, displacing Little Mister once more. He grumbles and tugs some of the blankets onto the pillow, disappearing from sight to fall back to sleep. You watch him instead of the faun that sits up, stretching her hands above her head and making aborted little noises at the back of her throat. You’re not sure how well the faun can see in the dark of the room, but you hope it’s not much. Your face is on fire. “Please, don’t stay up because of me.”
“Well, why not?” She turns her eyes on you and you can feel yourself freeze. Perhaps Fearne isn’t aware of how freezing her gaze can be, or maybe she is. Regardless, you feel warm from the inside out and your face softens. “If you can’t sleep, isn’t it torture to watch me sleep?”
“No,” You admit, braver in the dark of night than you’d care to admit to her, “As strange as that sounds, I didn’t mind.” You shrug half-heartedly when Fearne averts her own eyes to the window. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”
“Well…” She sighs, wringing her hands in her lap, “Normally, with Mister, I tend to not get cold but tonight… I don’t know. It’s colder than I’m used to.” You offer her the blanket from your bed, hoping it’ll help. “No, I’m not sure that would work.” When Faune turns her eyes to you again, ears pressing back as she fidgets nervously with her hands in her lap. “Would you… No, never mind.”
Your eyebrows furrow and you stand, making your way over to where she’s now pointedly avoiding your eyes. “Hey, what’s on your mind?” You slide in next to her, bumping her shoulder with yours. She is cold - well, colder than normal you think. You’re not sure how she interacts with the weather in Emon, less sure how fauns in general interact with it. Add in the fact that she’s not really from here - you literally have no idea if this is normal for her or not.
“I was just… Well, it’s stupid.” She makes a motion to reach for your hands but stops halfway. After you take a deep breath, looking from her hand to her eyes a few times, you grab her hand. “I was just… You’re warm. Maybe it’s because you’re used to the weather, but you’ve been warmer than me since I met you. I was wondering… I get so cold at night…”
“Fearne, we’re friends,” You smile at her, pushing away the thoughts that had been spinning around in your head before she woke up. You can deal with those at a later date, but now you want to focus on her, and the way that she’s leaning into you and your warmth. “At least, I would like to think we’re friends. You don’t have to hide from me.”
“Yes,” She’s quick to confirm, “I think of you as my friend. I’m just not sure how friendship works here, and what I can ask of you.”
“With me,” You confirm with a squeeze of her hand, “You can ask anything.” Of course, you’re blurring the lines between romance and friendship but you’re not too sure that line is crystal clear for you when it comes to Fearne anyway. You almost want to warn her that you’re not sure where your feelings for her lay, but she’s smiling at you and it is disarming. It almost wipes the thoughts from your mind because she’s so close, smells so floral, and smiles like that. Fearne seems like she’s gearing up the courage to ask you something when she ducks her head close to you, one of her horns knocking lightly against the side of your head.
“Sorry, sorry,” She clutches your hand tighter, “I have never felt like this before,” Fearne confesses in her smooth, low voice, “Wanting someone so close to me in a different way than normal. But I truly am cold, and you are so warm… Would you… Would you be comfortable sleeping in my bed with Little Mister and me?”
You almost go into shock. Almost immediately your body feels hot and cool, heart thrumming in your chest like a bird but also standing still like a stone. A grin slips onto your face and you knock your own head against one of Fearne’s horns lightly. “Of course I will, Fearne,” You try to keep your voice low as you move toward her, “Scoot over, we’ll have to work our way around Little Mister.” It takes a few minutes to get yourselves situated, but at the end, you’re pretty much pressed against as much of her body as you can be when she’s nearing seven-foot tall. It makes your head spin, especially when one of her hands curls up over your shoulder and wraps around you. “Hey,” You say after half an hour of being her personal furnace, “Can I ask you something?”
“With me, you can ask anything.” She parrots your words back to you with a content smile on her face, pressing her forehead to yours. “Go ahead.”
“What did… What did you mean when you said you’ve never felt like this before?” You swallow, and your mouth suddenly dries. You’re almost afraid of the answer she’ll give because Fearne is so unpredictable. Maybe it’s the Feywild that she came from, but maybe it’s just your mutual naivety when it comes to anything past friendship. You’re more afraid to hear her answer when the arm that’s around you tightens almost imperceptibly.
Fearne chooses her words carefully, looking almost like she’s chewing on them before speaking them. “This is all… New for me. Being here, in the city. Having such a varied cast of friends. Of course, with a new world comes new emotions and, well, I wasn’t really prepared for that.” You don’t have to ask what she means at that time, because once she starts it’s like she can’t stop. “I know that I care for my friends and for Mister, but I also care for you.”
“And those things are separate?” You whisper.
“Yes, but I’m not… I understand why but having those feelings… It’s different. Perhaps I’ll understand more later, but right now… I am content.”
You smile when her arm tightens on you again. “I am too, Fearne,” You whisper into the night air, sleep creeping up on the both of you, “I am perfectly content here.”