These Paper Pages

Smile (Arlaine)

note: Ngl, I hate Arlaine with a burning passion, but like something about GL Arlaine hits different so may I present to you, genderbent! arlo x elaine!

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It's wrong, Elaine thinks, to want more than what Arya offers her; but she wants it anyways. It's not friendship she wants, she's viscerally aware of her feelings simmering just under her skin. Friendship doesn't make your heart skip. Friendship doesn't keep you awake at night thinking about how her slender fingers would fit yours so well, how you'd smear the cherry chapstick delicately applied on her lips.

"Elaine, are you listening?"

Yes, she wants to say. But then she finds herself distracted by the light that frames Arya's face like a halo, highlighting the curves of her sharp cheekbones and lighting up her soft, golden hair. Pretty.

"Thank you," Elaine's heart leaps to her throat as she stares at her like a deer caught in headlights, she didn't mean to say it out loud but it's true nevertheless. Arya smiles at her, properly smiles, and her heart soars at the sight of it, a tinge of pink tinting her cheeks as she offers her own shy smile.

"You're welcome."

After that, something changes. She doesn't know what, but there is a quiet tension in the air when their eyes meet, when their fingers brush by accident. She's afraid to put a name to it, not wanting to give herself false hope, after all, why would Arya ever look at her?

Arya looks at her. Elaine doesn't notice, but she does. There's no such thing as accidental touches, not for her at least. Arya does things with a purpose in mind, but her patience is wearing thin and her hopes of Elaine noticing her not so subtle flirting are being dashed. It seems like if she wants results, if she wants to make her real intentions known, she has to be straightforward. Elaine won't reject her, she thinks, or perhaps knows really, but the anxiety of confessing her affection still pools dread in her stomach as the intrusive thoughts of 'what ifs' plague her in the back of her mind.

Steeling herself, Arya searches for Elaine. She finds her in the library, nose buried in what she vaguely recognises as a romance novel, how cute.

"Elaine," Arya smiles a little to herself when the other sits ups ramrod straight, eyelashes fluttering prettily as Elaine looks up from her book to meet her gaze. "Can we talk?"

Elaine shuts her book softly, nodding her head. Arya smiles and sits herself next to her, purposely moving her chair closer so their knees brush against each other. Gently, Arya takes Elaine's hand into her own, squeezing it softly.

"I like you," She doesn't bother mincing her words, "I like you."

Three words, eight letters, said one too many times, Elaine's heart can only handle so much. She gawks, face flushed bright red and then sputters, unable to think of anything to say which in-turn causes her to fluster even more. Arya giggles softly next to her, she still has her hand in hers.

"All you have to do is say it back," She whispers, and Elaine, Elaine looks at her, face flushed and eyes bright beneath the sunbeams.

"I—" Elaine inhales softly through her nose, gathering her bearings as she softly squeeze Arya's hand. "I like you, too."

"I like you a lot." Arya gives her a quick peck on the cheek for her troubles. Elaine turns away for a moment, trying to ease her racing heartbeat. When she looks back, it felt like the world stopped just for this one moment.

Looking at Arya's smiling face, Elaine thinks she could put the sun to shame.