Archive of Our Own

When Poppy found the poem, it was by accident. 

It was outside her classroom on the ground, crumbling up like a discarded thought. It was not dropped on her feet or handed to her. It was just there, alone and forgotten. Poppy smoothed out the paper against her knee, but it wasn’t the words that surprised her. In the corner of the paper, a small doodle of herself stared back at her, drawn from behind her seat in class. Her. Her ponytail, the careless way her backpack hung over her chair, even the way she tapped her pencil against the table. All there, captured in a messy yet strangely personal sketch.

It wasn't signed, which was a shame because whoever the artist slash poet was, they were certainly talented. Her head snapped up, looking around for anyone watching, but the hallway was empty. There were no glances. No smiles. No one was around as Poppy sighed, folding the paper carefully and tucking it into her notebook. She went to meet her sister for lunch instead. Maybe she could find out who the mysterious poet was in her communication class tomorrow morning. 

"Maybe it was Meadow Spriggs? She's pretty quiet. Seems like she would be one of those quiet romantic poets," her sister said, taking a fry from her plate and dunking it into ketchup. Poppy put the paper up in the sky where the sun could illuminate the words as if they were alive. She hummed, squinted, and mused. "From the angle, no. Meadow sits on the other side of the room."

Viva shrugged, still munching on her fries. "Well, whoever it is, they like you. Clearly." 

Poppy leaned on the table, her cheek propped up by her fist. Who would have feelings for her? She wasn’t new to admirers, but they were more outspoken and flashy. This was different. It was like they didn’t want her to know, with how they threw it out so carelessly. She scrunched up her nose and sifted through her memories of anyone who spared her a glance or any interactions that might hint at the secret admirer’s identity. 

"What will you do if you find out who it is?" Viva asked. Poppy folded the paper back into her notebook. "I don’t know," she admitted with a slight shrug. "I would probably thank them. You know me. When someone gifts me something, you get a thanks!"

Viva held back a skeptical smile while raising her eyebrow.

"Even though it wasn’t a gift? It was more like a thrown-away note you picked up."

Poppy chewed at the bottom of her lip, pondering. That was true. She would want to ask why the troll threw it away. It felt like it held some kind of significance to the troll, and the sketch, albeit messy, was still lovely and detailed. "Yeah, but it still feels personal, you know? I mean, I’m dying to find out who it is."

Viva laughed. "Okay, detective, let’s see if you can crack the case." 

Poppy smiled. She liked the challenge. "I will. Watch me." 

The rest of their lunch passed before they headed home for the night. They stood up, and Poppy snapped her fingers, "Oh! Maybe it’s Boom? He’s a romantic soul."

Viva snickered at her sister.

"Boom’s gay, Poppy. He’s dating someone named Floyd."

Poppy sprinted out of the house on Friday morning. She was late. She was never late but had almost forgotten her notebook at home, which would have been fine because she could always borrow a friend's or her seatmate's to write down. But this was the notebook that carried the mystery note. Maybe she could compare handwriting or sketches during class. But that didn't matter because she was already running behind schedule. Around the corner and...

Made it!

Well, almost. It was only five minutes! That was not late in Poppy's mind, but the professor glared at her as she slid to her open seat in the front. She smiled back, apologetic and hoping it would ease his stern look.

It didn't.

"Poppy, you're never late." Toronto straightened his tie, grumbling.

She laughed instead. "Sorry, professor. Won't happen again!"

He sighed.

"Since you missed the beginning, everyone but Branch got paired up so you're with him for the group project. You can find the outline online."

Paired with who? She looked around, trying to spot the troll, but Toronto dove into his lesson, forcing Poppy to focus on the lesson instead. She quickly scribbled down notes while trying to look around her seat for their handwriting. She realized her mistake when the troll who wrote the poem would be behind her, not beside her. She glanced behind her, and there were rows of trolls, some taking notes while others just sleeping away. The ones taking notes, she could barely see their writing when it was being blocked by their hands. She frowned, realizing it was pointless to try to determine who it could be among them.

The lecture finally ended, and Poppy was no closer to finding the poet than this morning! She gathered her stuff, sighing when someone came up to her desk. She smiled at him. "Yes?" 

His frown lines deepened as he adjusted his glasses. "I'm Branch," he announced somewhat reluctantly as if he was resigned. Oh! Her partner for the project. She held out her paw for a handshake since it was the polite thing to do when meeting new trolls. Well, new to introduce. Poppy met him before on the first day of class. She thought he was cute, but he frowned too much. They just never had a chance to talk until now since he was always the first one in the back and the first to leave.

"I'm Poppy! Nice to meet you!" She introduced herself. His eyes drifted from her face to her paw and then back again. Awkwardly, he took her paw. 

"Yeah." His paw was as rough as his voice before he abruptly withdrew it by shoveling his paw into his pocket while the other was adjusting the strap of his book bag. "I know who you are."

Her smile faltered momentarily at his response, but she recovered quickly. "Great! When are you available? Do you need my number? Or do you want to start now? I don't have any classes after this, but I have to meet my sister for lunch because that's what sisters do. It's just our thing. After that, I'm free all afternoon. Unless you aren't, then you know we can schedule something else, like tomorrow or the day after. Whatever works best for you!"

Branch seemed taken aback by her whirlwind sentence. Whoops. Poppy gave him a sheepish grin. "Sorry, my sister says I'm too much when I get excited or nervous, which I am both right now. Sooo..." She stood up, stretching her limbs. 

"It's fine," he muttered. He was quiet for a moment, scanning her face as if he was trying to decide about something. His eyes met hers momentarily while she was waiting for his response, and huh, his eyes were actually quite nice when they weren't hidden behind all that frown.

"Monday after class? I have work on the weekend." Branch finally said.

"Perfect!" Poppy exclaimed. "Can I bring anything? Snacks? Drinks? My sister makes these amazing blueberry scones—"

"No need," Branch interrupted quickly, holding up a paw. "Is the library okay?"

Poppy nodded. "Sure thing!"

He returned the nod slightly. "I'll see you on Monday." 

"See you Monday!" Poppy chirped as she finished gathering her stuff. She glanced up and caught him giving her a curious glance, but he quickly looked away and ran off. She tilted her head at him, puzzled. Poppy shrugged it off and headed out to meet her sister.

Monday rolled around, and while in class, Poppy determined that the poet was right-handed with how it was slanted and used a specific type of graphite pencil that was meant for designs. Perfect! While she looked around behind her, her eye caught Branch in the corner. He was focused on whatever Toronto was saying, and she glanced down at what he was writing with. A pen. There were no pencils on his desk, and he was writing with his left hand.

So, it wasn't Branch.

She felt a buzz in her pocket and smiled when she saw some messages from her friends. She looked up to make sure Toronto wasn't looking before quickly checking the messages, her fingers scrolling through weekend plans and their gripes about their classes. Poppy giggled before confirming her plans, then tucked her phone away. 

Toronto dismissed the lecture early, and Poppy quickly shoved her things into her bag before making her way over to Branch. He was already packing up his things, clearly ready to dash out as he usually did. 

"Hey, Branch!" Her response seemed to startle him as if he didn't expect her there. 

"Poppy," he acknowledged her. "I thought, um, we were meeting at the library." 

"Yeah! I thought we could walk there together. Since you know, we're heading there anyway." She smiled encouragingly. Even if he wasn't the mystery poet, maybe he could be a friend! Branch hesitated. His fingers were thrumming against the strap of his bag. 

"Yeah, that, that does make sense." 

Poppy beamed at his answer, skipping ahead to lead the way. 

"So, what's your major? I don't think you're in any of my other classes," Poppy started, trying to make conversation. Branch relaxed his posture, placing his paws in his pocket as they walked. "Architecture," he replied, his voice wasn't as gruff as before. "I like designing things, figuring out how they fit together."

"That's awesome!" Poppy gushed, her smile growing wider. A small smile dangled on the edge of his lips, a rare sight. Poppy found that she liked it more than she thought she would.

"What about you?" he asked. 

"Education!" Poppy replied happily. "My dad was a teacher, so I want to teach young trolls the same way." 

Branch nodded. For the rest of the walk, she chatted animatedly while Branch listened, occasionally answering some of her questions. It was nice. The awkwardness between them seemed to have lifted. When they arrived at the library, Branch held the door open for her. "Thanks!" she chirped, waving at the trolls that knew her. She spotted a corner with a round table flanked by several chairs. She dropped her bag on one while Branch did the same, pulling out his notebook for the project.

They discussed ideas and looked through the notes they had taken in class. Poppy noticed his handwriting was neat and organized, similar to the poet's, but because he was left-handed and used a pen in all of his notes, it didn't match up. Instead, she focused on the project.

An hour passed, and the time was approaching when she needed to meet her sister for lunch again. Poppy glanced at her phone and then at Branch. She pushed her chair out from the table and stood up. "Hey, I should get going. Do you want to meet again tomorrow?"

Branch looked up. His pen paused mid-air before he looked down at his notes again, finishing up what they were discussing. "That works. Same time?"

"Yep!" Poppy gathered her things and gave him one of her brightest smiles. "Thanks for today, Branch. It was actually a lot of fun."

"Yeah," he replied, offering a smile. "See you tomorrow, Poppy."

As Poppy slung her backpack over her shoulder, she noticed some sketchbooks peeking out of his book bag. Those were probably for his architecture studies. She glanced at the clock, realizing she would be late meeting her sister. 

The next meet-ups with Branch became routine. Poppy tried to find out more information about him each time.  

"Where do you work?" Poppy asked. She remembered he mentioned he was busy on the weekends because of work. Branch was flipping through a textbook, stopping to lean back in his chair. 

"My brother's restaurant. It's over at the end of the town, near Vaycay Town."

"I've been there! No way you work there! How come I don't see you?" Poppy exclaimed. Branch chuckled. It made Poppy's ears perk up, and her smile reached the end of her face. He answered, "I'm in the back. Not really a front-of-house type. But you probably met my brother." 

"I'll have to visit you next time I'm there," Poppy decided. 

"Just don't order the clams when you do."

"What else do you like to do for fun?" Poppy flipped through her notes. They were getting closer to finishing the report. After that, all that was left was the presentation for Toronto. 

"Play guitar, I guess? I was in a band for a while." Branch answered absented-mindedly, still scribbling something minor in his notebook. "Didn't last long."

Poppy snapped her head up at him.

"Huh? A band? You're like," she gestured animatedly with her hands. "Branch!" 

He rolled his eyes at her. "Thank you, I was unaware of my own name," he deadpanned. 

Poppy burst into laughter. "Sorry, sorry, I just didn't expect that. Like a rock star," she mimicked, playing an air guitar and tossing her head back as if on stage. Branch scoffed while laughing quietly at her antics. 

"It's why it didn't last long. I used to write the songs, and Ablaze found out. So if Ablaze comes up to you to start a band, do yourself a favor and say no," Branch advised, clearly joking. "Trust me." 

Poppy giggled. 

"I would still like to hear you play."

"Urgh, we're almost done." Poppy sighed as she packed up her things. It was almost her daily meet-up lunch with her sister. Branch nodded. He pulled out another notebook, looking like it was homework for his other classes.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Branch asked. It sounded like he was getting used to their regular meetings, making Poppy feel giddy inside. He was starting to open up more, and Poppy really enjoyed meeting up with him, even if they mostly worked on the project. Poppy rubbed her neck, feeling the knots out. "Yeah, tomorrow sounds great."

She slung her backpack when a troll approached her. 

"Poppy?" 

Poppy looked up, recognizing the troll from one of her other classes. "Yes, that's me!" 

He shifted awkwardly on his feet. "I wanted to ask, are you single? Do you, maybe, want to go out with me?" He looked hopeful and nervous, scratching his head as he waited for her response. Poppy was surprised, her eyes impulsively darting briefly to Branch, who stopped writing and looked up at them. 

"Oh, um," she stammered before smiling kindly at the troll in front of her. "I'm flattered, but I'm, um, focusing on my studies right now. Sorry." 

The troll nodded, a bit disappointed. "No worries, Poppy. I'll see you around," 

"Yeah, see you in class!" Poppy replied with a cheerful wave. Turning back to Branch as she adjusted her backpack, she said, "So."

"So." Branch echoed. He tapped his pen against his notebook. "See you?" 

"Absolutely!" Poppy chirped. She smiled brightly at him before turning around quickly so he wouldn't see her face flushing a brighter shade of pink. That was awkward, ugh, too awkward. She could practically feel his gaze as she ran out of the library. 

"You did what?" Viva laughed as they sat down in their favorite café. Poppy grimaced. 

"I told him I'm focusing on my studies!" she hissed. "What else was I supposed to say?" 

Viva playfully punched her arm. "That you were interested in someone else! I mean... you clearly are."

Poppy gasped, lightly pushing Viva. "Am not! We're just working on a project together."

Her sister laughed before she adjusted back to her seat. She sipped on her coffee slowly. "Please, Poppy. You're never this flustered when trolls ask you out. You like Branch, admit it." 

Poppy pouted, aggressively swirling her straw in her drink. "Even if I am, which!" she pointed her straw at Viva accusingly. "I am not saying I am, but even if I was, it doesn't matter. Pretty sure he doesn't like me in that way. All we do is work on the project together."

Viva shrugged. "You never know until you try, right? Plus, you guys seem to get along well based on how you talked about him. Maybe you should ask him out after you guys finish." 

Poppy nibbled on her straw. She huffed a piece of her hair out of her face, looking frustrated. "Maybe," she finally conceded, rolling her eyes. She threw a wad of paper straws at her sister for teasing her.

Viva giggled, dodging the playful attack.

"What about your mystery poet-artist? Did you ever figure out who it was?" Viva asked. Poppy finished sipping her drink, shaking her head no. 

"I checked everyone in the class Veevs. And let me tell you how awkward it was to ask trolls constantly for their notes." She groaned. "The only one that came close was—"

She paused. Branch. The sketchbooks. She picked at her finger, but it couldn't be. Could it? She chewed inside of her cheeks. 

"I never checked out his sketches," Poppy muttered under her breath, talking to herself rather than to Viva. 

"What?"

"Nothing, just thinking aloud."

The next day, Toronto's class was canceled to prepare for the presentation, so Poppy arrived early at the library. Her leg bounced nervously with all the energy she felt bubbling. It made sense it would be Branch. He sat behind her. He sketched. He wrote songs for his band which would be pretty close to poems. Branch got to the library, looking surprised to see her already there. 

"Hey, Poppy," he said, dropping his backpack onto the table. "You're here early."

"Branch, did you write a poem about me?" she blurted out. He gaped at her, his body shaking like lightning had struck him. 

"I... uh, did I what?" he stammered, clearly caught off guard.

"Is this yours?" Poppy reached into her bag and pulled a piece of paper that was folded in her notebook. She unfolded it and laid it out to him, showing the doodle and the poem on the paper. "This is yours, isn't it?"

Branch stared at it, and Poppy watched his expression change to horror. 

"How-how did you," he choked out, looking panicked now. "I mean, yes, it's mine but I... I didn't think you'd find it." 

She felt her face grow hot. But. 

"I thought you were left-handed?" she squeaked.

Branch blinked twice, then let out a small, nervous laugh. "Ambidextrous, actually. I sketched with my right, so I wrote the poem afterward. I write my notes with my left hand."

His face flushed deeper, his embarrassment was matching hers. 

"Wow. Uh. wow." Poppy breathed out. She was overwhelmed by the emotions flooding in. Branch liked her. He had a crush on her. 

"I'm sorry, that was never meant for you to find," Branch finally muttered. He looked like he wanted to bolt out of there, so Poppy had to act quickly by placing her hand over his.

"No, don't be sorry. First of all thank you. The poem, the doodle it was very beautiful," she said quickly, "But secondly, how come you never told me?"

"Um, because you're Poppy?" Branch said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She looked at him, puzzled about what he meant. He gave a nervous chuckle.

"You're smart, beautiful, and you have a line of trolls asking you out. I didn't think I stood a chance, so..." he trailed off. So he threw away his feelings like he threw away the note.

Poppy gaped at him. 

"Branch, I would've said yes if you asked me out!" 

Branch stared at her, scoffing. "No, you wouldn't."

"Wha! I would!" She said adamantly, and that took Branch by surprise. He blinked a few times. "Really?" 

"Yes!" Poppy threw her paws up. "Why would I say no to someone cute, talented, and clearly cares about me?" 

"Oh," Branch said. After the shock wore off, he cleared his throat. "So... you like me too?"

"Yes, you dork," Poppy giggled. Their smiles grew wider as they looked at each other. 

"Then," Branch rubbed his arm nervously.

"Would you want to go on a date with me?" He said, filled with hope and a little bit of fear as if he was still expecting her to say no.

She didn't hesitate. "I'd love to, Branch."

Poppy grinned. Who would've thought a misplaced, crumbled note would lead to this?