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Part One : Damsel in Distress
Apple White prided herself on many things: being polished, being punctual, being perfect.
But very high on that list—just under giving inspirational princess speeches and having the shiniest hair in the dorm corridor—was her impeccable balance.
Princesses simply did not fall.
Which was why it was painfully ironic that she was currently swaying at the top of a stepladder in the corridor, gripping a roll of gold apple-patterned tape for dear life, while her beloved Wonderland-club poster drooped sadly from her fingertips.
“This will only take a second,” Apple murmured, mostly to herself. “Just one more piece of tape and—eep!”
The ladder wobbled. Hard.
Apple’s heart leapt into her throat.
And then—
Strong arms. Warm arms. A body colliding with hers as the world tipped—
Apple gasped as she fell neatly, smoothly, impossibly gracefully into the arms of the one girl who made her lose her balance just by existing.
“Gotcha, Princess.”
Darling Charming’s voice was a soft, relaxed purr. Apple blinked up—up—into her bright blue eyes. Darling held her like she weighed nothing, smiling gently, as if catching girls who fell off stepladders was a thing she did between breakfast and fencing practice.
Apple’s breath caught. Her cheeks went very, very warm.
“Oh!” she squeaked. “Darling! Tha—that was—thank you! I didn’t mean to—oh goodness—”
Darling laughed softly, lowering her just enough that Apple’s feet touched the ground, but keeping one steadying hand on her waist a moment longer than strictly necessary.
“You okay? Or do I need to carry you to the infirmary? I don’t mind.” She winked. Actually winked.
Apple’s brain went fuzzy.
Her knees nearly gave out—not from the fall. From her.
“I—I’m fine!” Apple insisted, standing—perhaps a bit too quickly. “Thank you for catching me, Darling. Really. I—I don’t know what I’d have done if you weren’t—um—right there.”
Darling’s smile softened. “I’m always right there, Apple.”
Apple’s heart did a swan dive.
Darling, meanwhile, stepped back, hands on her hips, as if she hadn’t just swept Apple into what was undeniably a princess-carry.
Apple stared after her as she left the room with a casual wave.
Her face felt like it was on fire.
Her knees were jelly.
Her heart fluttered like a caffeinated hummingbird.
She wished dreamily to still be cradled in Darling’s lovely strong arms.
And then, slowly, like dawn breaking—
Apple White had an idea.
A terrible idea.
A magnificent idea.
An idea stitched from equal parts romance novels and hopeless puppy crush.
If Darling Charming catching her had felt that swoony…
Then perhaps —just perhaps— Apple should fall more often.
⸻
Part Two : The Ingeniously “Accidental” Trip
It started with a stumble.
Apple was walking from Princessology toward the castleteria, arms full of textbooks she absolutely did not need to be carrying all at once, when she “accidentally” tripped over a very small, very harmless crack in the tile.
“Oh my goodness!” Apple yelped.
Books scattered. Apple pitched forward.
And right on cue, two arms wrapped firmly around her torso, stopping her inches from hitting the ground.
“Careful, Apple,” Darling murmured, voice warm against her ear.
Apple’s heart fluttered violently. She looked up, face pink as a rose.
“Darling! I didn’t even see the crack. Oh Grimm, you truly are the most hexcellent knight in school.” Her eyelashes fluttered coyly.
Darling helped her upright, steadying her hands as she passed back the books one by one.
“You okay? Still in one piece?”
Apple nodded rapidly. Maybe too rapidly. “Yes! Perfectly! Just a little slip!”
Darling smirked. “You know, I’m starting to think gravity has a personal vendetta against you.”
Apple giggled nervously, twirling her hair. “Oh, well, maybe it just likes me too much!”
Darling raised a single eyebrow. “It’s just like everyone else, then.”
And then she offered her arm.
“Let me walk you. Just in case gravity makes another aggressive move.”
Apple nearly melted into a puddle right there.
⸻
Part Three : How You Get The Girl - A Guide By Apple White
Apple had not, for the record, planned to miss the penultimate step. That would be terribly un-princess-like, and Apple White was nothing if not committed to the aesthetic of effortless grace.
No, she told herself firmly as her heel slipped, this was simply… a sudden betrayal by architecture. The squeak that left her mouth was royally dignified. Mostly.
And when she tumbled forward and landed right in Darling’s arms again, it was obviously an accident that she had ended up cradled against a familiar, sturdy chest, fingers curled around Darling’s shoulders like she never, ever wanted to let go. Apple blinked up at her with wide, innocent eyes, arranging her features into what she hoped was a perfectly guileless expression.
“Oh goodness,” she breathed, batting her lashes just once for emphasis. “These stairs are so dangerous lately.”
Darling’s arm stayed firm around her waist, bicep solid and warm under Apple’s hand. Apple tried very hard not to notice how her palm fit there perfectly.
“Funny,” Darling drawled, gaze amused as she looked down at Apple, “they seemed perfectly harmless until you got on them.”
Apple gasped softly, one hand flying to clutch her pearls. “Oh, you know marble. Hextremely slippy sometimes.” She tried to sound like the vivaciously amusing princess she was. It came out breathless. Darling chuckled, the sound low and smug, and adjusted her hold as if she were just making sure Apple was steady—but her fingers pressed lightly into Apple’s side, sending a shiver right through her.
Darling had just opened her mouth to reply, when-
“Apple,” Raven said, having watched her stumble directly into Darling’s arms for the third time that week, “have you considered getting different shoes?”
Apple glared momentarily, before quickly schooling her features back to their typical gracious expression. (It had, after all, been only a few months since she had vowed to herself to be truly good to Raven. It wasn’t her roomie’s fault she didn’t want to poison people. And now that Apple had found alternate ways to channel her damsel-in-distress-ity, she wasn’t so concerned with being poisoned anyway.)
“I just have terrible balance lately!” Apple insisted… while adjusting her hair and batting her eyelashes at Darling, who was still holding her around the waist like she belonged there.
Raven stared. “Right.”
Darling fixed one of Apples ringlets back into place and smiled. “Well, I don’t mind.”
Apple’s heart did a triple pirouette.
Two days later, she “slipped” on a rug.
The rug, in Apple’s princessional opinion, had absolutely moved. One moment she was gliding down the dorm hallway, humming a cheerful tune and practicing her most effortless casual-royal-walk. The next, her foot hit the edge of the rug, and the treacherous thing betrayed her, sending her sliding forward directly toward the very knight who had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching her approach with that tiny, secretive smile.“Eep!” Apple squealed, arms pinwheeling. For a single, glorious heartbeat, she wondered how absolutely romantically tragic she looked. Then Darling caught her, one arm looping around her back, the other bracing her shoulder, spinning them both neatly so Apple ended up pressed against the wall instead—caged in by Darling’s body, her face inches from that unfairly pretty mouth and her hands clenched tightly into fists to keep her from stroking them down Darling’s fableously defined biceps. (Seriously, did that girl work out thrice a day?)
“Careful there,” Darling murmured, voice a little lower than usual. “Hallway hazards are brutal this spellmester.”
Apple’s brain short-circuited.
“Oh, Darling,” she sighed, lashes fluttering instinctively as she tilted her chin up. “You saved me. Again.”
Darling’s eyes flicked briefly down to Apple’s lips before returning to her gaze. “Someone has to keep you in one piece,” she said smoothly. “Can’t have Ever After High’s favorite princess terrorized by rogue interior design.”
Apple giggled, dizzy. “You’re so gallant,” she chirped, and before she could second-guess herself, she leaned in and pressed a quick, flustered kiss to Darling’s cheek. The contact was soft, barely there, but she felt the faintest hitch in Darling’s breath under her hands. Apple pulled back, cheeks pink, trying to look perfectly unconcerned. “Princess gratitude,” she explained primly. “Very traditional.”
Darling’s smirk turned slow and satisfied. “Then by all means,” she said, “feel free to keep the tradition alive.”
Apple was fairly sure her kneecaps had stopped hexisting.
The very next day, Apple found herself in the school library.
It was, objectively, a flawless setup. The library shelves were tall, the book she “needed” was just out of reach, and Darling was at the next shelf over, shelving fencing manuals because of course she did her volunteer hours in the chivalry section. Apple rose up on her toes, fingers stretching, spine arching just enough to make her skirt swish.
“Just a little… higher…” she murmured to herself, loud enough to carry. “Oh dear, I feel so… lightheaded…”
She let herself sway backward in a dramatic, old-Hollywood faint. In her head, it looked gorgeously romantic. In reality, there was a tiny half-second of panic—what if Darling wasn’t close enough, what if she actually crashed into the floor, what if this was how she met her doom, sprawled in the plantology section—
Then strong hands caught her shoulders, another arm sliding beneath her knees, pulling her safely, solidly against a familiar chest.
“Apple,” Darling sighed, but there was unmistakable laughter in it. “Really?”
Apple blinked up at her, going for wide-eyed and helpless. “O-oh,” she stammered. “Lucky you were right there, Darling, I almost—”
“Fainted reaching for a book?” Darling’s brows lifted, teasing. “Tragic way to go.”
“It was very high,” Apple protested, which was a lie; it was barely above her fingertips. She placed a hand over Darling’s heart, (belatedly realising she was half groping the other girls breast and turning cherry-red) theatrically fanning herself with the other. “And I’m just so delicate and fragile lately, I—”
“You are many things, Princess Apple,” Darling said dryly, tightening her hold in a way that made Apple’s stomach swoop, “but fragile is not one of them.” Her tone softened, eyes warm. “Still. If you want an excuse to fall into my arms, you don’t need altitude.”
Apple’s breath hiccuped. Did Darling know? No, she couldn’t. Absolutely not. Apple smiled instead, leaning in to brush her nose lightly against Darling’s cheek, the faintest nuzzle that had her heart pounding. “But where’s the drama in that?” she whispered.
Darling’s answering grin was wicked and fond all at once. “Oh, trust me,” she murmured back, “you bring plenty of drama on your own.”
Apple decided she might never recover.
The next day, Apple was doing her own volunteering in the library, dusting the shelves idly while singing to the birds outside the window. Really, she had hardly even noticed Darling standing right there.
In Apple’s defense, the feather duster did launch a sneak attack. One moment she was tidying the display in Princessology, humming to herself about floral centerpieces. The next, a rogue swirl of movement sent the duster toppling off the nearby cart. The feathery end brushed the back of her neck in a soft, ticklish whisper.
Apple shrieked.
She jolted forward, heels skidding, the world tilting as she lurched dramatically sideways. The duster spun through the air like a ridiculous, fluffy javelin—only for a gloved hand to snatch it mid-flight, the other arm swooping around Apple’s middle and hauling her back against a strong, steady body.
“Whoa there,” Darling said, sounding far too entertained. “Vicious cleaning supplies on the loose today.”
Apple clutched at her forearm, heart racing, and looked up with a gasp that was only slightly hexaggerated. “It attacked me,” she pouted. “Did you see? It went right for my neck. That was a targeted strike.”
Darling’s lips twitched. “Clearly,” she agreed, spinning the duster once before resting it against her shoulder. “Good thing your personal knight was on duty.”
Apple’s cheeks went hot at the words your personal knight. “My hero,” she sighed, giving in to the urge to lean more fully into the circle of Darling’s arms. She tilted her face up, lashes fluttering outrageously. “How can I ever repay your bravery?”
Darling looked entirely, infuriatingly unruffled. “Hmm,” she mused. “You already fall for me on a regular basis. Feels like pretty generous payment.”
Apple squeaked, caught between mortification and pure delighted thrill. In a desperate attempt to regain control, she surged up on her toes and pressed another quick kiss to Darling’s cheek—this one lingering just a heartbeat longer. “Consider that a bonus,” she whispered.
Darling’s composure finally cracked; a faint flush crept up under her freckles. But when she spoke, her voice was still maddeningly smooth. “Careful, Princess,” she said, leaning in so close Apple could feel her breath. “Keep that up, and gravity’s not going to be the only thing making you fall.”
Apple’s heart absolutely, positively plummeted—and she had never been more willing to hit the ground.
Because every time Darling caught her, Apple’s heart went into a frenzy of, oh gosh she’s so pretty oh gosh she smells like mint and armor polish oh stars above I want to hold her hand—
And Darling’s heart went, look at my adorable disaster princess she thinks she’s slick I’m going to let her keep “falling” forever because she blushes so cutely—
But Apple, certified oblivious princess, had no idea.
⸻
Part Four : Gravity’s Grand Finale
It happened on a Friday.
Apple stood outside the Royal Gardens, clutching her picnic basket and trying not to panic.
Today was supposed to be simple. She had invited Darling for tea—because normal people did that, right? Just tea. Just friends having tea.
Hexcept Apple didn’t want to be “just friends.”
She wanted Darling’s arm around her waist not because she fell.
She wanted Darling’s hand in hers not because she was tripping.
She wanted Darling’s smile because it was for her.
Real feelings. True-love’s-kiss level feelings.
Apple White—destined princess of Ever After High—was hopelessly, helplessly, undeniably in love with Darling Charming.
Which was precisely why she hadn’t tripped a single time today.
She had resolved to be normal.
Dignified.
Graceful.
Princess-like.
“Hi, Apple.”
Apple nearly jumped out of her skin.
Darling stood there looking enchantingly good in casual armor—blue accents matching her eyes—as she set down her picnic blanket.
Apple swallowed hard. “H-hi.”
They sat together, drinking tea and sharing pastries. Apple tried to keep her hands from shaking. Darling watched her with that soft, amused hexpression Apple was becoming addicted to.
Everything was perfect.
Too perfect.
Which was why Apple’s nerves finally snapped.
“Darling?” she blurted, hands twisting in her lap.
“Yes?” Darling leaned closer, eyes bright.
Apple inhaled shakily. “I… I have to tell you something. Something hexpecially important.”
Darling’s smile softened. “Go on.”
“I—well—I—” Apple twisted harder. “I like you. I really like you. More than friends. A lot more.”
Darling giggled.
A soft, warm, melting laugh.
Apple froze. “W-what? Why are you laughing?”
Darling reached over, cupping Apple’s cheek with a tenderness that made Apple’s breath stutter.
“Oh, Apple,” she murmured. “Honey. I know.”
Apple blinked. “You… know?”
Darling’s thumb stroked her cheek. “You aren’t subtle, baby.”
Baby.
Apple’s brain stopped functioning.
Darling leaned in, voice low and fond. “You fall into my arms six times a week. Sometimes three times a day.”
Apple’s face burst into flame. “I—I—those were accidents!”
“Sweetheart,” Darling whispered, leaning closer, “you ‘tripped’ over a cotton ball.”
“I panicked!” Apple squeaked.
“You fainted reaching for a book.”
“I got lightheaded!”
“You swayed dramatically into me after a feather touched you.”
“It was a fairy ticklish feather,” Apple mumbled weakly.
Darling smiled—the kind of smile made of candlelight and softness—and Apple felt her heart collapse.
“And I love it,” Darling added softly. “I love catching you. I love seeing you blush. I love every hexcuse you find to fall into my arms.”
Apple stared at her.
Mouth open.
Heart pounding.
Mind blank.
“And,” Darling continued, moving closer until their foreheads touched, “I like you too. So much it’s ridiculous.”
Apple made a tiny squeaking noise.
“So if you don’t want to fall anymore, you don’t have to.” Darling brushed her nose against Apple’s. “But if you still want me to hold you—well. All you ever have to do is ask.”
Apple’s breath trembled. “Darling?”
“Yes, Princess?”
“Kiss me?”
Darling didn’t hesitate.
Her hand slid to the back of Apple’s neck. She tilted Apple’s chin up with gentle confidence and pressed their lips together—soft, slow, warm, and impossibly sweet.
Apple melted. Completely.
All her breath whooshed out in a sigh.
Her hands flew up to Darling’s shoulders.
The world spun—but this time, Darling wasn’t catching her because she fell.
She was holding her because she wanted to.
When they finally broke apart, Apple’s eyes were shining.
Then she squealed.
A very princessy, high-pitched, delighted squeal that echoed across the garden.
She spun in a full circle, hands pressed to her cheeks, dress twirling.
Darling watched her, utterly smitten.
Then Apple ran straight back into her arms, hugging her tightly enough to lift herself off the ground, legs kicking demurely as Darling spun her around.
“Oh my goodness, oh my goodness,” Apple babbled into her shoulder. “I can’t believe this is real, I can’t believe you like me, I can’t believe—”
Darling laughed, hugging her just as tightly. “You’re adorable.”
Apple pulled back, pouting. “I’m supposed to be beautiful and romantic.”
“You are beautiful and romantic,” Darling assured her, kissing her forehead. “And you’re the cutest thing ever.”
Apple practically glowed.
“Darling?” she whispered.
“Yes, Princess?”
“I think I’m falling for you.”
Darling grinned. “I think I am, too.”
Apple blushed so hard she nearly fell again.
Darling caught her anyway.
⸻
Epilogue : A New Routine
Apple didn’t “accidentally” fall much anymore.
Now she simply walked up to Darling, tugged on her sleeve, and murmured:
“Hold me?”
Darling always did.
Still, every once in a while—
Apple would catch Darling watching her with a mischievous twinkle.
“Miss falling into my arms?” Darling would tease.
Apple huffed, cheeks pink. “Maybe. A little.”
“Then c’mere.”
Apple would melt into her arms, and Darling would hold her like she was the most precious thing ever after.
Because she was.
And Apple—finally, fully—knew it.