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They're at the dock for some reason— it’s late at night and the moon is full and shimmering over the lake. The black waters lap at the base of the wooden pylons as they dangle their legs off the edge.
One by one, the bright yellow gleam of the house behind them begins to dim, lights flickering off as their friends retire for bed. The both of them are usually early to bed, early to rise; but these are special occasions, and after a rowdy round of secret uno club they both had the giggles. Cautious not to disturb the house, and eager to stargaze she'd dragged him out to the dock. It's not his first choice, but he’ll go anywhere she asks.
Now they’re sharing a beer, craning their neck towards the heavens. And that’s probably where the irresponsibility starts, because it’s a bit stupid to be drinking near open water, and even more stupid that they’re sharing it (Ren has to stop thinking about what her lips might taste like). Conversation flows from twaddling nonsense to quiet moments of reflection— wedged in between fits of laughter and sweeter glances.
It’s the perfect combination of her company and the comfort they share that makes his heart soar and his cheeks sore from grinning. False offers him the bottle, before she takes the last sip and moves it aside. All that once kept the score of their platonic distance is removed. Ren feels an instinct to fill it. Shuffle over and close the distance between them– because now it's just an awkward gap where their hands tend to brush occasionally. Part of him is screaming at himself to move, make a move– put an arm around her or something ! It’s obnoxious and loud, but Ren the other half– the responsible side won’t let it tempt him.
This is False, his good friend, and even though he hugs his friends, hugging her would be different somehow— at least, when there’s no excuse for him to (other than the gap, other than his silly brain).
Ren looks over and finds her cheeks flushed— is it because it’s cold? Or the alcohol ? She leans towards him, and his skin simultaneously buzzes with warmth and shivers at the proximity. (Fuck, he’s so lame and weird— she’s not even touching him and he feels like this.) If he had a jumper he would have instantly peeled it off and given it to her, but he’s not… so it’s either hug her or leave her for the cold really. (Never mind how illogical that sounds !)
Before his brain can even deliberate, his body shuffles closer. Directed by an overzealous liquid courage, he lets an arm fall around her shoulder. False shivers at the touch, he’s sure she must be cold. So he lets his hand run up and down her arm, toasting her back up. He’s always run hot, so he’ll happily serve as her personal heater.
She relaxes and lets her head fall on his shoulder. The wisp of her hair tickles his neck; and Ren is suddenly struck again with the remembrance of what it feels like to have a girl in his arms. Obviously— this can't be it, because for one he’s just acting as her heater. And secondly (and more importantly) False is only his colleague and the only person he’s not allowed to have those kinds of feelings for. He accidentally fell for her once— and he’s not about to do it again; even though when she nuzzles into his neck, his stomach churns with that familiar fluttery feeling.
Ren can’t bear feelings for her, because they’ll never be reciprocated. And he loves her, cherishes their friendship too much to cope with the heartbreak of even imagining something else. That’s why he'd already decided he wasn’t going to get married or have kids— the risk of losing is too much for his old heart. So, he’s fine with not even attempting to win, it’s easier that way.
He can leer at the fruit, watch the delight it brings to those who pick from it— his colleagues and their partners, the ineffable joy they share— but he’ll never have the courage to take it for himself. Even when it dangles like a carrot above his forehead, or in this case leans against his shoulder on a perfect warm spring evening. It’s forbidden, even though it’s within reach.
The world of course, and False Symmetry especially, have other plans. She fidgets with her hands in her lap, wringing her fingers. He tries not to look at her, but it’s hard to not notice when it’s the only thing moving against the still. Her hands are small, or at least in comparison to his— and she's wearing a ring on her right hand. He glances at his own, matching in a way, and dangerously his mind wanders.
He has a proper ring at home, a family one, from a great aunt who’d passed when he was a teenager. He’s thought about giving it back since he wasn’t planning on getting married anymore; one of his siblings probably had more use of it. But the sentimental note that came with it, makes him hesitate enough to selfishly hold onto it. It’s his after all— and she wanted him to have it. And he’s sure it'll eventually find a purpose in his life. The box was already useful back when they did their secret surprise trophy stream– and maybe that's purpose enough.
Ren bites a guilty smile back at the memory; he hadn’t realised how obvious it really had looked until he saw chat whizzing past with the assumption that their surprise was an engagement announcement. They'd laughed that off awkwardly about that after stream, but he'd never really actually considered the concept of it until now. Sure— he wasn’t dating False, and would never plan to…
But if he could day dream for a second, (or maybe just dream, because it’s a blue quiet evening ) he’s sure there’s a reality out there somewhere where things are perfectly aligned for him. Where somehow everything falls into place, and he gets to go down on one knee and ask her that question… would she say yes? His heart aches, squeezes, like something is twisting around his organs and suffocating his breath. His hand shakes as his thumb caresses her shoulder. False's breath is steady and slow against his rapidly raising heart.
Fuck, even though it’s imaginary, he hopes she’d say yes. He hopes somewhere out there in the vast great universe there’s an alternate world where he gets to play out his fantasy, and she says yes. And I do. He hopes there’s a reality where they share a house, a garden, a dog, a cat— whatever and everything and anything she wants.
It’s a dream he hasn’t thought of in awhile, but it’s now a dream he can’t think of sharing with anyone else. Who else is there that Ren cares about making laugh or smile that much? Who else is there he wants to spend all his time with ? Who else is he going to pick every time, and let things play in their favour? Who else does he spend a year making and planning a surprise for, or enjoys making big speeches about how much he appreciates their presence in his life, and talks about to his mum and sits next to and teams up with together and stays up till ungodly hours to share a drink and stargaze with? Like they’re fuckass teenagers with no worries in the world.
He thinks for a moment more, running through the various scenarios of his daily life— breakfasts and gardening and shopping and making videos and streaming and Magic and tea— there’s no part of his life that wouldn’t be elevated by her presence. No part of his life he wouldn’t want her to be in.
Before the trip, Grian had them fill out forms for in cases of emergency; who the hermits should contact, who will be responsible for them. They'd put each other down only because it made sense to. They know each other the best, and it’s easier than having to place that burden on their families with the timezone difference. It’s sensible, it’s responsible. He gets to take care of her, and she gets to take care of him. That’s the way things have been for a while on hermitcraft, and now slowly that status quo is bleeding out into real life.
He shifts his head and cranes his neck to glance down at her. Her lips are pressed into a small, pleased smile, her eyes fluttering shut, resting. There's still pink dusted on her cheeks, but her body is warm against him so he thinks it must be the alcohol. The bottle of beer they shouldn’t have shared (the teenage boy in him still swoons at the idea of an indirect kiss— even if it literally means nothing, and never will, because she can’t be his).
Ren swallows, and averts his eyes to back ahead out across the lake. The moon light refracts and glimmers across the currents of water. A soft breeze washes past— False shimmies ever so slightly closer, her arm pressed flush against his side.
Ren toys with his ring and slips it across onto his left hand. It’s no wedding band— but he imagines it— he imagines it.
He remembers the pyramid— the “reason” behind his trip to London in November— in his mind he goes through the check list again. Air, water, food, shelter, security, family, friendship… he'd stopped before friendship six months ago. He had False, of course, it'd be amiss to say she wasn’t his best friend, but their friendship was bound to a screen– lacking the qualities of a physical presence, the eye contact and affection that grounds it as something real. But he’s met her twice in a year now, and savours every moment he has of her presence— engraving every glance she spares, every touch she lets linger, deep into his mind.
He hadn’t gone past friendship because he never thought there would be much more in store for him. But getting to spend time like this, an arm around her, her head on his shoulder; trusting that he’ll keep her safe, that he’ll keep her warm. Belonging of sorts. His finger tips run up and down her arm again, tracing patterns and swirls. She inhales for a moment, like a gasp, but then quiets, letting her breath steady to synchronise with his.
She’s in his arms, she's in his arms, she's in his arms. Ren has never felt so whole. She knows him like the back of her hand, she knows him better than some of the girls he’s called his girlfriend. And now she's just sitting here, letting him stay beside her. Letting him belong with her. Without reason, without cause– because there's no way he deserves this… Ren wonders if some sort of multidimensional portal has sucked him up and taken to another universe, or if somehow time has reversed back to Eden– she is his garden.
But there's no portal, just a black lake and moonlight and the faint smell of beer and her perfume– a scent he knows will drive him crazy not to smell when she leaves. He doesn’t want her to leave. He wants to stay here in her arms, and go home to her and muck around in shopping centers and wake up with her voice near and talk to her until he falls asleep. It’s ridiculous and selfish and a pipe dream she’d never agree to.
Or would she?
Ren's skin is itching with anticipation, he knows better than to ask, but he can always blame it on the alcohol– numbing his senses, making him senseless.
“False?” He mumbles, nudging her shoulder lightly, just to check if she's awake. She stirs and looks up at him, rubbing her wide doe like eyes. Ren almost feels guilty for disturbing her, but he just likes looking at her so much he can’t find it in himself to be.
“Yes Ren?” She nestles back into his shoulder, tucking her arms into her side. Ren shifts closer.
“Do you believe in alternate universes ?”
“No.” She snorts, and then looks up at him, raising an eyebrow when she catches his expression, alarmingly serious. She swallows. “Do you?”
“They’re a cool concept to think about—“ He looks at her, looks at the lake beneath their feet. “I hope they exist.”
“I think it’s escapism to think about things that could have been rather than focusing on what can happen if you try.”
Yowch. Cold and blunt, just like his False. He chuckles fondly and squeezes her shoulder.
“What if you know you can't have what you want?”
“How do you know that?” Her face scrunches up, mad and adorable. “Blimey Ren, you can't be so sure you know everything !”
“That’s not—“ He panics for a second, worried that hes somehow offended her– but then he catches her cheeky girlish grin, and the stifled giggles she coughs out. “You.” He jeers.
She giggles and buries her head into his shoulder, closer somehow.
“What are you so worried you can’t have that you're thinking about an alternate universe?” She mumbles.
“A family.”
She frowns, fidgeting with her fingers. “What are you talking about ? You have a huge family.”
“Yeah I know– Love them to bits of course !” He coughs. “But I mean, like my own family. A wife, kids, pets— white picket fence y’know ?”
“Oh.” She shrugs. “Well that’s not completely out of reach— a lot of our friends have families—” She glances up at him and hesitantly adds, “Or they're starting ones?”
Ren laughs. “Yeah, a lot of people are getting married this year.” He licks his lips, sighs and lets his cheek squish against her soft hair.
“Do you ever feel like you’re falling behind, False?”
Without a second thought she replies. “No, I don’t really care about that stuff.”
“Fair enough.” It comes out more disturbingly self pitying than he hopes. It's not his business what False does with her life– and he already knew that was her answer. False is not going to say yes— because she’s not interested. And definitely not interested in him.
“I mean— I might if it ever came up but just— I don’t— I think I—“ Ren perks up at the panic in her voice, confused. False buries her face into her hands, but he can see distinctly that her ears are pink. “If someone ever asked— I mean maybe? But dating is just too much of a pain when you have to explain all of this to someone. And I just— it’s already hard for me to have feelings to begin with.”
He nods. “I get that— it sucks, dating really sucks.”
False is hardly listening to him, “It’s just like— I don’t like people until I know them— and then when you know them, and they know you, they don’t tend to ask— y’know?” She rambles. “Cos they don’t think i’d ever see– and just– it's stupid.”
His jaw drops. False is almost always talking in five layers of sarcasm, but this confession feels surprisingly earnest– and surprisingly well… Is she saying what he thinks she's saying …?
Ren's throat feels dry. “Uh, yeah…”
In the smallest of movements, she fidgets and shifts her ring to her left hand as well and lets it rest on her knee, mimicking his. Ren doesn’t have great observational skills, but he’s not so stupid to miss this hint when it’s staring at him right in the face, glimmering up at him in the moonlight. It feels so obvious it’s almost nothing, but the context pulls it together:
They’re sitting together alone, late at night, sharing a drink, arm over her shoulder, stargazing and pretending to be married. Oh. Oh.
They haven’t even kissed and they’re talking about marriage— they’re actually worse than even Ren's strongest teenage fantasies. (He usually at least waited until the second date to do that! ) (Though maybe they’re way past that point anyways, he’s known her for nearly a decade …)
He draws in a deep breath, glances between their fake wedding bands. “But if you knew someone, you’d be okay with them asking ?” Ren clears his throat. “If someone did want that?”
“I mean I’d tell them to take me out on a date first.” She raises an eyebrow and laughs at his flushed face. “But yeah, it’s an eventuality I wouldn't be opposed to.” She hums and sinks back into his shoulder. “ I wouldn’t mind that at all.”
A gentle breeze, a nudge, a branch snap, the fruit falls into his lap— if only he’s willing, if only he has the courage to bite. He looks above, the twinkling sky above them– millions of galaxies, millions of worlds, millions of lifetimes– and the universe has somehow chosen him to be the lucky Ren. The one who gets a shot to have everything he's ever wanted. If only he’s ready, because she's ready, False is ready.
His hand falls from her shoulder, False looks up at him, and then quickly glances away– staring straight out at the lake. Ren draws in a breath and squishes his arm beside her. Her pinky twitches, Ren smiles and lets his hand shift forward, intertwining their fingers.
“You wouldn’t mind this?” He whispers softly.
False clears her throat and looks up at him, her face is red now– unmistakably red and Ren's not sure he can blame it on the cold or the alcohol when he knows he's just as flushed for other reasons.
“I don’t.” She croaks out, her eyes darting down to their intertwined hands. “I don’t mind when it's you.”