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"That's such a pretty ribbon, Presea!" Colette had said to her back then.
At the time, Presea had a perfectly typical response: "It has a tactical advantage."
Now, Presea realized: Colette hadn't really cared about the ribbon. She'd been complimenting her for the sake of complimenting her. Because that was what girls do. It was a way of breaking the metaphorical ice; of initiating friendship. It was a supposedly foolproof way to initiate conversation: fluffing the sense of vanity that girls were supposed to have.
The next time Colette complimented her on her hair ribbon, Presea readily accepted it. Not because she was terribly vain– or, maybe she was. She was still figuring that out.
No, she accepted the compliment for the hidden meaning of it: a way to initiate conversation. Because she wanted to have a conversation with Colette.
And so, she accepted the compliment, and responded with one of her own. "Thank you, Colette. You have lovely eyes."
Presea must have still done something wrong, because Colette's face flushed a brilliant red.
—
Female friendship could be a tricky thing. Presea wanted to be friends with Colette. Colette, who was so kind, so funny, and so beautiful and radiant. In fact, Presea couldn't think of anything she'd rather do than be close to Colette.
Presea had friends. At least, she liked to think that she did. She knew that she could rely on Lloyd and Regal. Genis and Zelos readily gave her attention– sometimes too much of it, in fact. But the other girls? Presea didn't know if she could call them her friends yet. She felt close to them, but at the same time, they all seemed closer to each other, and Presea felt like an outsider looking in.
Besides, whenever she was around the other girls, her heart beat faster and she felt like she was fumbling.
Especially around Colette.
But Colette was patient and kind with her, regardless. It seemed that Presea hadn't offended her too much the other day with her comment about her lovely eyes.
Maybe that meant that Presea could compliment the other things that she found attractive. Like her rosy complexion, her luminous hair, her taller frame, and her pert, pink lips.
But for now, it seemed that Colette had a compliment, or even an offer, that Presea couldn't think of a proper response to.
"It looks like today's battles got your hair all tangled. Would you like me to brush it out before bed?"
Presea was so floored that she could only nod. She could only sit in silence as Colette knelt behind her and undid her pigtails with gentle hands.
Presea even found herself wishing that Colette would place equally gentle lips on the back of her neck, but that was too much to hope for. At least, for now.
For now, Presea just basked in the warmth of the closeness to Colette.
Colette, who she was happy to call her friend.
