don't be the one to leave first | prosper

Prosper pulled back from the hug, skin tingling and head all full of her perfume. There were some internal alarm bells ringing in the back of his head when he felt her fingertips linger on his arms. He wondered if she knew what he was thinking. How that felt to him. Shit. Prosper moved back, putting a little distance in between them. She wore the same perfume she used to wear. He wondered if that was intentional, but dismissed the uncharitable thought quickly.

Feeling far too present, Prosper reached for his drink, wanting to keep his hands occupied. If he felt a little shaken, he couldn’t imagine how she felt. “Er,” He started, looking down at the drink in his hands, watching the liquid sitting at the bottom of the glass. There was some awkwardness to this whole thing. Prosper was used to wearing his heart on his sleeve but it struck him now that he didn’t always receive the same back, and that he wasn’t expecting it or used to it. Here she was, all laid out in front of him and he didn’t know what to do with it.

He felt compelled to make her feel better, but the only ways he knew how to do that weren’t appropriate. Not just the stuff that he tried not to focus on too much - the touching, memories of less innocent things - but the reassurances, too. How could he tell her that he cared about her, even if it was true, if he’d probably forget about her in a couple of months if he didn’t see her again?

“Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked. He needed a change of setting, he thought. Some kind of way to refresh to this whole thing.

Montserrat hated herself at times like this when her mind became clouded by thoughts of the past and her body committed every touch, no matter how casual, to memory. It was a simple gesture, she reminded herself, one that had been presented with no deeper meaning, no ulterior motive. And yet, just like that, she remembered exactly when and how she had fallen in love with him, how when he touched her she felt safe but in the same moment completely vulnerable. It was a duality that she had come to depend on, no matter how painful it had been in the end. And for that small moment, it had been a heartache she was willing to suffer once again even if only for a night.

But when he finally pulled away she felt a little more clear-headed, reminding herself that this was now and that was then and things wouldn’t change no matter how much she wanted them to. He had someone else now and regardless of how much she wished that things would be different between them, she was at a loss. She forced herself to smile even if just to avoid the uncomfortable aftermath of what had just transpired. Her skin still tingled even as his hands occupied themselves with something else, but maybe like everything else between them, that too had been unrequited.

After several moments of silence, he spoke, pulling her away from her thoughts and in almost immediate agreement with him. “Yes, let’s do that,” she agreed, standing up from her seat, her hands feeling helplessly unoccupied as she waited for him. “We can still be friends, can’t we?” she asked, her voice a little lower, unsure if it was the wrong question to ask at the time. But she wanted him to know that she cared, that she still wanted him around even if that meant that she would long for him from afar. She could manage, couldn’t she?

Prosper finished his drink quickly as she got to her feet, feeling the effects of all of the wine he’d been drinking all at once. As much as he wanted to drink more, it was probably a good idea to get out of here before he could drink more. He placed his glass back down on the bar, taking a deep breath, reminding himself not to be an idiot.

It wasn’t like he thought he’d do something really stupid - his head was all full of Ariane, even here in the presence of another beautiful girl who’d made it clear that she would match him wherever he wanted to be with her - but there were a lot of things further down on the stupid list than cheating on his girlfriend. Things like being a bit too sweet, or spending a bit too much time dwelling in memories of their shared past; things that would end up hurting her, even if they weren’t wrong to do in the moment.

The young man stood, giving her a half-smile and gesturing for her to lead the way out. Her question made him frown, but he only let that happen because she wasn’t looking at him. It wasn't really up to him, the way he saw it. “Well, I’m not going to stop talking to you or anything,” He said, a bit of a teasing smile on his lips as he stepped in front of her to open the door for her.

“Weren’t you?” she smiled a little. She wanted to add that the two of them hadn’t spoken some time which in her eyes had seemed like his way of disconnecting, disassociating himself from any of the memories that they shared together. But Montserrat knew that it had been her decision to walk away with the hopes that he would eventually become a lesson learned rather than a constant reminder that she carried heavily in her heart of her failure. She had longed to reach out to him on several an occasion but it felt weirdly unnatural, whatever would they speak of? How could she come to terms with the fact that several things had gone wrong because she had been too weak to say anything at all?

She walked through the open door, the small gestures that usually indicated good manners magnified by the ever-present feelings that she had for him. “Sorry I took so long to write,” she finally said, feeling the need to take responsibility for their separation in one way or another. “I wasn’t really sure what to say and then eventually, I never said anything at all,” she said quietly, unsure if he would be able to read between the lines as he had done so effortlessly in the past. Part of her wanted to hold his hand, to figure out just how he felt without having to hear it from him. But that was cheating, wasn’t it?

“But you look happy,” she noted. Did he? He certainly had not looked miserable when the two of them were a thing but maybe she had been simply projecting her own feelings onto him. But what? There had been a part of the sentence that had been missing, something that she felt strange expressing to him so openly.

“No, no,” Prosper said, waving a hand. Despite all of his prior musing about what was and wasn’t healthy and okay, he moved automatically to reassure her, sliding right back into those memory-lane places with her. “I didn’t understand at first,” he admitted, which sounded very stupid to him now that he had the full context. “But I do now.” A part of him was compelled to add some kind of reassurance that they probably would have gotten together if she’d owled earlier, but even with the wine he wasn’t quite that stupid.

“Yeah,” he said, giving her a smile and then looking ahead as they walked together. “I’m doing well,” he added. Prosper had already elaborated enough about how happy he was; it felt a bit awkward to be walking beside her and singing Ariane’s praises or something.

Could they be friends? He wanted to. He wanted it to work. He’d slept with or dated people in the past and stayed friends with them afterward - so he knew it was at least possible. But there was a lot of tension between them right now that he was sure he wasn’t imagining, and if it was like this every time, then did he really want to introduce her to his girlfriend? They’d have to meet at some point if she wanted to be decent friends again, that’s just how that worked.

“Do you?” she looked over at him curiously, slightly in disbelief. “Either way, it’s my fault for not being clear, I should’ve told you what I expected, instead I just sort of let myself assume we were on the same page” she added, her tone even and soft. She would not go as far as to say that Prosper was dismissive of her feelings, he had always been conscientious of those around him, particularly of her when they had been together. But at the same time, she wasn’t sure if he truly understood what had happened exactly, why she had been so hurt. Or maybe he did and it had never been as big of a deal as it had been to her. Montserrat could not help but wonder where they would have been now if she had been courageous if only she could have been more assertive about her needs rather than to depend her wants on what she believed that he wanted.

He was holding back, Montserrat could tell that he felt hesitant to speak to her, that he wasn’t as generous with his words as he normally was. And it made her somewhat uncomfortable, to think that if they were to be friends again things would feel this way: strained and confusing. Montserrat wanted to be supportive but found it hard to be in good conscious, not when things felt so fresh even though they had happened some time ago. She needed closure but wasn’t exactly sure how to go about getting it.

“Regardless of everything and how it turned out…” she trailed off, not wanting to get into specifics for the sake of not making him like the bad person here. He had been lovely, she had obviously been the problem. “I’m very happy to have met you, Prosper,” she started, smiling softly at the thought. “But I don’t mean to drown you in my sorrows about the past,” she insisted, silent for a moment. “Apart from the lucky girl and the new relationship—how are things for you?” her throat felt a little dry, the words girl and relationship much harder to say than she remembered. Maybe if they stopped talking about the obvious, the feelings would just disappear into thin air.

Prosper cleared his throat. She was obviously unhappy, and he didn’t like being in a position where it would be worse for him to comfort her than not. His first instinct was touch - a hug, or something. But in this situation, that was sort of off the table, so what now?

“I’m happy to have met you too,” Prosper said, his brow furrowing momentarily. He didn’t like the phrasing, or the weight of it all. When she’d invited him here, he hadn’t been prepared for all of this. And then she’d been overly flirtatious, but not in the way that he, Prosper, was generally a flirty person. And then things had gotten more serious than that.

He was having a bit of trouble reconciling her version of events with his. Again, he wondered what would have happened if they’d gotten together. Prosper was convinced that he wouldn’t have gotten bored of her any time soon, but it was difficult to think about and imagine against the backdrop of his new relationship.

“Mostly good,” Prosper answered with a nod. They’d gone over some things, but not others, so he figured he could fall back on some of that stuff now. “I’m bartending, and teaching summer dance classes at the moment. Mostly kids,” he added. “I still see the boys, though half of them are engaged now.” Prosper rolled his eyes; three of his best friends had gotten married or engaged within six months of each other. It didn’t matter to him that Diederik and Zara had gotten engaged to each other, it still felt like three whole engagements to him.

"I might audition for a show..." he started, "just a local thing, nothing very high pressure."

Montserrat wasn’t sure if she could believe what he was saying, after all in her eyes, Prosper was kind to a fault. However, she had been comforted by his nonetheless, feeling a sense of relief that he had not replied with something much more fitting of the situation: words that would be meant to depreciate their past so that she could move on from it. These pleasantries would not give her closure they would simply remind her of how much she wanted him again and how upsetting the fact that she could not have him was. A part of her wished that he was unkind just so that she could go home, cry herself to sleep, and find the mental strength to move on from the following day forward. But even asking that of him seemed too much.

Thankfully, they had moved on to other topics so for the time being, she could relish in the idea that maybe one day they could be friends, no matter how easily he stirred her emotions. “That sounds really nice,” she replied softly. The two of them had met in school but had truly gotten to know each other in dance class. Naturally, her mind went in that direction and she felt guilty for it, for making everything about herself when he probably couldn’t be bothered to think of her as more than just a face in his lengthy list of conquests. “I find kids the easiest to deal with, they’re rather honest,” she added, it was one of the reasons she loved working in the Pediatrics & Maternity Ward so much, kids told you exactly how they felt, they didn’t hide their truth for the sake of being polite.

“I can’t imagine being married at my age,” she smiled, “but I guess when you know, you know,” she continued. Montserrat wondered how her life might have ended up had she married someone like Prosper, but she knew that if she had been in the same mental space then than she was now, then she might have just sat complacently by and he would have gotten bored of her. Maybe that had been it.

“Oh really? That’s great, I’d love to go see if you make the cut,” she said enthusiastically, “if you’ll have me there of course.”

Prosper shook his head. “Me neither,” he answered emphatically. Had the string of weddings and proposals given him the mad idea that he should propose to Ari a few months after starting to date her? Yes. But had he realised how absolutely insane that idea was pretty much immediately? Also yes. Volker’s wedding had really been something. Lots of drama and romance. Actually, he and Ariane had gotten caught up in it, and ended up sneaking away early…

“I have these brief moments of feeling like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be,” Prosper added thoughtfully, his eyes ahead as they walked slowly down a road packed with restaurants and bars. “But most of the time I still feel like a kid. I’m not even twenty yet,” he added. A part of him thought that Zara and Diederik were crazy; despite the allure and fantasy of it all, Prosper knew that he’d feel trapped in a marriage at the moment.

"Of course," Prosper said with an easy smile, "but we'll see how the audition goes first."

“I think we are always where we are meant to be,” she suggested in return, “and once we learn our lesson, life opens up more opportunities for us,” she continued. Optimistic to a fault, Montserrat felt it easier to think about life in symbols and fate rather than to take the reality she was in at face value. “I know I’m only a little bit older but things don’t become suddenly easier to understand anytime soon,” she replied with a small smile. There were many things between them that she didn’t understand but that didn’t stop her from hoping for eventual clarification or for something to help her see why he had found it so much easier to date his new girlfriend but had had such a difficult time committing to her.

“I’m sure the audition will go fantastic,” she said encouragingly. There was no denying that Prosper was talented, no matter how she felt about him personally. But he had always had a talent for being in the spotlight, it was what she had enjoyed the most about their relationship. He took the attention away from her and it made her feel protected. Montserrat distantly wondered what exactly his new girlfriend liked about him best but felt it inappropriate to ask.

After a few moments of silence, she reverted back to an earlier comment, “You say that you feel like a kid sometimes but I find it rather charming, not everyone has that sort of light, you know.”

“That’s true,” Prosper answered. He was a romantic too, after all. It was just another reason that things had been so intense between them.

Prosper smiled, nodding a bit at both her assertion that the audition was going to go well, and then again at the comment about his charm. “Thank you,” he said, giving her a half-smile. He wanted to return the compliment too – there were a thousand ways he could compliment her with total honesty – but he was a bit drunk now, and overly aware of being inappropriate.

They walked for a while, but the conversation was a little strained. Prosper tried to talk about things that were happening in his life, but at the moment, most of his life revolved around Ariane. Whenever he mentioned her, he couldn’t help but read into the way Montse smiled, or didn’t. Answered quickly, or didn’t. He rarely felt awkward; maybe being more empathetic and aware of other people was a part of growing up, he thought distantly.

“It’s getting a little late,” he said, finally, slowing to a stop beside a little public garden. He could hear the sound of water splashing – perhaps there was a small fountain in the garden. He couldn’t see it. Prosper turned to face her, his half-smile back in place.

Montserrat could not help but smile at his agreement, his words giving her a sense of reassurance that he had not regretted their time together even if she was the only one that wished things would have lasted much longer than they had. But she could tell that he was holding back a little and it was difficult for the young witch to understand if it was because she might misconstrue what he had to say or rather because her desire to see him had been one-sided to begin with. But she had needed closure, it wasn’t as easy for her to move on from people, especially not those who had played such a fundamental role in her life. She knew that she had been in love with him then, it was obvious in the way her body and mind reacted to him, the way he had so easily entered her heart and had somehow stolen a piece of it without her permission.

It was very likely that she was still in love with him now, even if she knew that she shouldn’t be and that having feelings for someone that had already moved on to another person would only lead to more heartbreak. Montserrat was jealous of this girl but at the same time longed to meet her, to see what exactly it was about her that had lead him to choose her. But the young witch knew that it wasn’t really her place to ask such questions and so she didn’t, aware of the boundaries that he presented and willing to respect them at least externally.

She stopped when he did, looking forward into the park as she held her breath, a part of her wishing that he might have asked her to spend more time with him, that somehow they would have relived a memory of their past, even if only for an hour or a night. Turning to him, she gave him a dimpled smile. “Of course, thank you for meeting me again, Prosper, and let’s keep in touch,” she added, hesitating before she leaned in to hug him. It was obvious now that they would disappear out of each other’s lives again but such was life and Montserrat had learned that there was no point in testing what fate had in store.

“Lets actually do it,” Prosper said, really feeling like that was what he wanted, even though in truth he probably wouldn’t work that hard to make it happen.

She wanted to hug? He felt like it might be a bad idea, but figured she was a better judge than him. So he hugged her. Prosper frowned a little once she couldn’t see him, feeling a bit weirdly sentimental and a bit drunk and a bit cautious all at once. He felt the weight of it all; the way he’d hurt her (accidentally of course, he made sure to add), and the way that she’d wanted him. The way she hadn’t been able to get what she wanted.

Alarm bells sounded again, somewhere in the back of his head. He could smell her perfume again, the same one – a smell that he’d forgotten until earlier tonight when he’d hugged her the first time. He gave her a tight squeeze, and an errant imagining – just fingertips down her back – drifted into his head. He pulled back then, putting his hands into his pockets and trying to stay clear-headed. He was thinking about fingertips and hips and skin. Idiot. He’d had too much to drink.

“I’ll see you,” he said with a soft smile. He waited for her to go before he turned, heading in the opposite direction as he reached for his wand.

He felt warm and comforting, the recollections of their time together almost resurfacing for a moment as she closed her eyes and tried to commit the smell of his clothes and of him to memory. Montserrat wondered if having her this close would make him feel it, too, and if so, would she be able to sense it? It was in this very moment that she considered her ability to be a gift, one that had the ability to give her the insight that she lacked from his words. But her feelings for him overwhelmed her to the point that it felt almost impossible to distinguish where her feelings ended and where his own began if they even existed at all.

But there wasn’t enough time for her to figure it out, his pulling away from her making her feel a little confused as she returned to reality. He wasn’t hers anymore (if he ever was hers, to begin with remained a mystery) and she had no business holding him the way she had. However, Montserrat didn’t notice anger or disappointment, if anything he stood there for a moment and even went so far as to smile. But he’d always done that, smile and say the sorts of things that made her feel everything was perfectly fine until it obviously wasn’t.

“Of course,” she noted, turning away from him as she considered how she’d like to travel home, daring to give a glance back to see him walking away, what felt like him walking out of her life. It hadn’t felt like closure at all, if anything it felt like all her feelings had only returned to her. It had been a lesson in love that she was almost certain she’d never grown out of.
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