𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑⁰¹ʰᵉᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍˢ✓

⁵⁵heart eyes

clementine

There’s nothing but an endless stream of scenery around me, as if waiting for me to take my sketchbook and pencil and take it all down, translate the mountains’ slopes and rocks into curves and lines; the trees into twisting forms of lead; and the people skiing as simple shadows and vague shapes. It’s asking for it.

As everyone around me moves and warms up, familiarising with their skiing gear, I just stand still by them and squint at the faraway hills, the snow capped tips reminding me of chocolate sundaes with vanilla on top.

I’m not sure if I should be skiing. I’m not one for sports since the physical exertion is quite too much to ask of me, but I’ve become half envious of the people laughing and seemingly enjoying themselves. So, why not give it a try?

Everett skis back and forth on a slightly plain surface of snow, tripping from weirdly shaped mounds on the ground before he mumbles and tries it all over again.

I turn a little further and spot Luke discussing some ski subject with Ollie, pointing at their ski poles and poking it in and out of the snow, looking as though they’re trying to figure out how to use it.

I give a small smile at the sight of them, conversing as if they’ve known each other for much longer than just two days. I’ve never actually seen someone I’ve been with interested in talking to my family or spending time with them, with one exception of Emeric since I grew up with him. But Aiden didn’t even get to talk to them. They knew of him and vice versa — I’m not quite sure on the latter as he may have only been half listening to me when I talked about them.

Even then, if he had talked to or met them, I have the gut feeling they wouldn’t have gotten along.

Mom’s got a nose for people with bad habits, and in Aiden’s case, she would be able to literally smell it off him; a musky scent of bourbon and vodka, plus the vigorous, tangy miasma of whatever perfumes he decided to mix, the one that Darth hisses at the second scent of it.

Ollie, with his ever-fervid intuition and whatever knowledge mom had passed down to him, is adroit at picking out the seemingly insignificant details about someone; like how someone else shifts uncomfortably when someone else touches them, or the way someone speaks and how they change specific words. And I don’t know how, but he always gets people right.

With all these ongoing things about my family, I’m relieved they haven’t said anything about Luke.

“All I see are heart-eyes,” A voice teases behind me, and I turn around to see Ashton putting on his ski helmet, a boyish smile sporting his face.

I roll my eyes and put on my own, adjusting my hair to fit underneath. “You ever skied before?” I ask, ignoring his previous statement.

Ashton shrugs, slipping on the eyewear and giving me a dimpled grin. “Took a lesson two days ago, but it wasn’t on an actual snow slope,” He replies.  “So for my quality and how much I learnt, you’ll have to see if I gracefully ski down the slope or just fall and roll down,”

“Will do,” I nod, putting on my eyewear and watching other people slowly ski down. I take note of how they’re holding themselves and how they’re using their ski poles, then seeing someone else slide in with the posture of confidence, right before a small heap of snow hits against their ski board and disrupts their motion, causing them to fall forward and roll down a few feet until it becomes flat again.

“Looks rough,” Ashton comments, sliding his way to the top of the slope as I go and follow him. “You wanna join me along?”

Shrugging, I position myself and dig my two ski poles into the snow and slightly bend the upper half of my body to correctly position.