Chapter Text
This can't be right.
The Blue Bird Cafe. A small cafe tucked away in the corner just off the way to the last stop of Trolberg’s train line. A quiet neighborhood of small shops, it was not often bothered by the hustle and bustle that the more inner city had to deal with, the outer city along the wall was more or less undisturbed most days.
“Excuse me!”
Today seemed to be an exception.
A blue haired girl dodged past the few people along the sidewalk with rushed apologies; not bothering to slow down despite the droplets of rain that seemed to get heavier with each step. Thunder rumbled in the clouds as the weather spirits were no doubt at it again, but even that fell upon deaf ears. The only noise the young girl heard was the aggravating beat of her own heart drumming in her chest.
I can't think of him like that!
Holding onto her scarf in one hand, and clutching her black beret firmly in the other, Hilda felt her face flush as the embarrassment started to settle into her gut, creeping unsettlingly despite her efforts to push those thoughts away. Paired with the shame that bit at her heels, she became all too aware of each droplet of water that hit her skin. The young blue haired girl shut her eyes and yelled into the dreary sky; though it was drowned out by the thunder overhead.
I cannot like David!
Hilda Lofgren just wanted to go home.
—
Hilda often took the train to the end of the line. She enjoyed climbing the walls and looking outwards to the wilderness beyond. Long past were the times where she would whine about moving to the city, though nothing could curb her love of the world outside the walls. Despite taking adventures with David and Frida whenever they all could; the young teen found herself comforted by her trips to the walls. It was an added bonus that she usually had a whole stretch of the top of the structure to herself, so she was free to revel up there in her own company.
Climbing up the old stone steps up to the watchtowers, Hilda took a deep breath, a wide smile on her face. It was the final turn into autumn now, and the air and leaves were crisper and more vibrant than ever. The young teen would argue that it was the best season out there. (The weather conditions made it optimal for a smooth, enjoyable, and ambient adventure.)
An hour passed of sitting on the wall, her feet kicking outwards as she munched on her cucumber sandwich and drew lazily in her sketchbook. Before long, the light from the sunset started to peek past her wind whipped strands of hair, granting her a small moment of quiet resolution before she started to pack her things. It seemed it would rain soon anyways.
These little excursions had almost become routine at this point, and it always ended on a sweet note: a quiet walk to the bus station. Smiling at couples and families strolling down the lanes, watching in awe as the storefronts and streetlights lit up- the sky dimming to pinks and oranges before calm blues and purples overtook the night. It was something she greatly enjoyed about the city.
Routine. The same things everyday. Consistent.
It was comforting.
Across the white noise of the crowds, a sweet melody caught the young girl’s attention. A guitar melody fluttered aimlessly out the propped open door of a small cafe, the sign above the door reading “The Blue Bird Cafe”. Quickly glancing at her watch and determining she had enough time to grab a cup of cocoa and enjoy the music for a bit, the teen ducked into the establishment.
A cozy space with light blue wooden walls, adorned with a simple painting of a flock of birds flying off into the distance. There seemed to be quite a few people seated at the small tables in front of a tiny stage. A young brunet sat on a stool near the end of the stage, his back to the audience as he plucked rhythmically at his guitar. Plants of every size were pushed into every corner and countertop that wasn’t used to eat on, making it quite easy for the petite girl to wander to the counter without anyone noticing.
Careful to not talk loudly over the soft guitar, Hilda asked for a cup of hot cocoa from the bearded man at the register. Eyes trailing over the exposed beams of the ceiling, a voice from the other side of the building began to speak over the tune of the strings. A platinum haired woman called out from near the stage, gathering everyone’s attention to her.
“Hey everyone, welcome back to our Tuesday music sessions! Our usual is here and David’s prepared us a new song again, so let’s give our little bird a nice welcome!”
Sipping at her drink, Hilda thought about how much her own David would enjoy this place. Her best friend was fond of cafes, and a music session sounded like he would enjoy it.
“David Olden everybody!”
Hilda nearly spat out her drink.
A warm round of applause hummed through the room, but Hilda just stared wide eyed as the brunet on the stool faced the audience sheepishly with a limp hand coming up to wave at them all. Trying to hide as best as she could behind some outrageous plant, the teenage girl peeked through the foliage, trying to piece together why she had never heard of him going to sing publicly.
“Hello.. Nothing big to sing about today, just a little song I've been playing around with this week. Well, thanks for having me! Well, uh-here goes.”
Hilda had stayed for approximately three minutes before dashing out the door in a quiet frenzy.
It had started off well enough, her mind roaming to his creative words he always had a knack for- flowery and emotional words neither Frida or Hilda had the skills to make. Pride bloomed in her chest at the thought of his musical talents, though guilt bit at her for listening to his music without his knowing- if he wanted them to come listen, he would've told them about his gigs here ages ago. Hilda pushed back in her chair in efforts to leave.
Rising slightly with a grimace, half embarrassed to have come in at all, she paused as his soft guitar began to play.
Frida had grown up with him longer than Hilda had, and had been there when his love for music was discovered. While always supportive and loving about David’s musical endeavors, they weren’t as awed about it as the blue haired girl found herself. Hilda had always prided herself in being able to carry a tune, but she was quick to preach that David’s talent was in a league of its own.
She always admired his voice. It was sweet, airy, and carefree; and made her nostalgic for something she had never known, but dearly wanted to.
Taking a sharp inhale, Hilda succumbed to that yearning- desperately wanting a fraction of that whimsy he managed to convey- and tuned into the lyrics.
He had sung of floral fields he read about in a book once. How much he wished to see the yellows, reds, and oranges of the flora with the blue skies above. How he wished to make chains of flower crowns to wear under the clouds, and laugh with the breeze provided.
It was easy enough for her to imagine; Hilda was even fairly certain she had visited that exact field before. Though she laughed into her hand at the prospect of David willingly going past the walls, the idea of visiting the fields did sound like a lot of fun. Indulging herself for a little bit of fantasy, the adventurer closed her eyes and transported herself outside the city to the wild that owned a part of her heart.
—
The way there was easily traveled, even without those of adventuring prowess like she and her friends would boast. A soft road under the sunny sky, running only over a few grassy hills by a lazy sea before coming across a hill that stretched for a good mile of various colored flowers. A slight breeze would fly past, the weather spirits in a pleasant mood with their lovely view below. A small beach laid at the end of the field, perfect for a picnic or gathering seashells. David would enjoy that, and Hilda doubted the books would have mentioned the pretty blue shells that washed up on that particular shore.
The two of them would gather flowers for the crowns, with Hilda gathering yellow ones to match David’s jumper, and him gathering fistfuls of red flowers to match her boots. He’d laugh at her shoddy attempt to braid the stems together, though the smaller teen would get the last laugh; placing the clumsy crown on his curls with a smug huff. His own, much neater, creation in hand, the tall male would give her his signature lopsided grin.
“Your hat’s in the way.”
Taking off her beret in the careful way of his, David would keep it clutched firmly in his left hand, his right reaching to place the crown he made for her on top of her blue locks.
“There we go.”
His face close to hers, she wouldn’t even think to pull away. The only thought racing through her mind would be how easy it would be to move her face upwards.
How nice it would be to press her lips against where his lips ended and his cheek began.
—
Hilda’s eyes shot open at the inevitable implications of her daydream. Panic rose within her at her wandering thoughts, her breath becoming short. Not willing to wait forty minutes until the next bus, the teen abruptly bounded away to begin her trek on foot, anxious to escape.
When the bartender returned to ask if he needed anything else, the bearded man curled a brow at the forgotten glass on the counter, the drink barely cool.
—
Hilda had come knocking on Frida’s Auclair’s door not even two minutes ago, and her best friend had let her in with a concerned glance. A far off look in her eyes, the younger girl walked straight into Frida’s bedroom, sprawling herself on the floor in front of her friend’s television set up; completely ignoring Frida’s boyfriend seated on the bed.
Trevor Callas watched Hilda shuffle herself on the carpet, clicking his tongue a bit in curiosity. “Well hello to you too, Blue. Is there a particular reason I’m not continuing movie date night with my partner right now? Because if you plan third wheeling regularly, you have to let me know ahead of time so I can adjust the snack situations.” His wit wasn’t favored by his partner- Frida shooting him a glare he had grown quite accustomed to- before she went to sit down next to Hilda.
“Hilda..? Hilda, are you alright?”
A beat of silence played through the room. Taking in a shaky breath, the young Lofgren tried her best to keep tears from falling down her cheeks. “What…what if..what if you started having feelings that could change everything? That could ruin everything, and you don’t know how you feel about it yet? And you're not even ready to admit it.”
Frida shook their head softly, “What do you mean, dear? What feelings?”
The tears fell down her cheeks in small streams, unable to hold it all in anymore. Bringing her arms to cover her face, she whimpered into her cardigan, “I like someone,” Frida winced lightly as Hilda sniffled pathetically into her sleeves, “-but I don’t know how if I should be feeling this way, and I don’t want to ruin..what I have with them! I can’t do that..not to him.” Her words grew softer as she finished her sentence. The older friend furrowed her brow in confusion, trying desperately to make sense of her words, ignorant to the recognition on their boyfriend’s face behind them.
“Try to sort out your own feelings more before anything else. If you just ignore it, it’ll get awkward between you and them real fast, so best tackle it head on soon.” The two on the floor looked at Trevor after the words left his mouth. Nonchalance plastered thick on his face, the boy flicked at something on the bed sheets with a well practiced shrug.
“I’m just trying to look out for the poor person who found themselves in your sights. They don’t deserve more grief.”
Before Frida could scold him for being tactless while their friend was in such a state, laughter bubbled out from her friend; choppy and wet; but genuine and relieved. With a small sigh, Frida decided to let their boyfriend off the hook this time, opting to rub her thumb in small circles on her friend’s arm with a soft smile.
A lopsided grin was evident on Hilda’s face, though she still had her arms up and covering her bleary eyes. “Thank you Trevor..I really needed that.” Peeking one puffy eye out from her sleeves, her smile grew. “I can always count on your dry humor to alway be there in every situation.”
With a click of his tongue, Trevor dismissed her praise with an upwards twitch of his lip. “Don’t mention it, Blue. Though I was serious, try to let me know ahead of time because I don’t have enough cheesy cheddar Jorts to share.”