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Ethan regretted it, he truly did. He didn't mean to lay his whole heart on the line, and he feels stupid for it now. He just... he got distracted, honestly. He couldn't focus on keeping his words in check, he hardly can whenever Andy is around, but especially when they're alone, in a place he feels safe in. So, he confessed.
You move too fast for me, Ethan.
The words roll through his mind, sawing at his every thought. Andy had said that they didn't want to forget about it, and then went and broke his heart. Too fast? What does that mean? Why does that... hurt so much. He's always thought he was too much. His parents saw it, maybe his siblings did too. But he had hoped that maybe, just maybe, Andy hadn't thought that about him too. They were finally getting along, then Ethan had to ruin it all over again. Fuck. They were friends, Andy said it themselves! They were happy, hanging out all the time. And Ethan fucked it up. Like he does everything that has to do with Andy. He's praying to never see them again, if he's honest. He doesn't need space, per se, but he does need distance for... the rest of his life, quite possibly. God, he's humiliated.
But, he still has a life. He still has orders, has to check in on Chef, research his specimen. About that, actually...
There was a small issue. Right before Christmas, the Zombie specimen sort of... got out. Ethan got it back in, and washed his hands, disenfected everything with the strongest magic he could find. But it was scary. Maybe that's why he confessed, truthfully. Maybe he realized his own mortality. He wouldn't want to die before telling Andy the truth, and let Andy mourn them like a friend when they could have been so much more.
But they're not so much more. Because Ethan moves too fast. Too fast, too much, too loud, too weird, too magical, too fast, too much, too loud, too weird, too magical. He's always more than he should be, at everything he's ever done. Too talented, overworked for his gollem creation. Too smart, bullied for being ahead of his witch class. Too, too, too. The word haunts him. Too fast was new, perfect for Andy to be the first one to say it.
On the way to Giredale, he thinks it's unlikely he'll see Andy. They're almost never around at the same time anymore, since the Christmas party four days ago. And he really needs to clean out his chests of fish. So, he walks. Slowly, maybe Andy will appreciate the change in speed. He doesn't feel right using a waystone. He hasn't touched his spellbook in days. And the lab... he hasn't stepped foot inside since that morning. He shudders thinking about it. He's unsurprised when he sees the empty streets of the city, many people have been going out of town for the holidays. He passes the occasional villager, but doesn't pass any of his friends. Or Andy. He doesn't know what to call them, at this point.
The removal of the very last box of fish is when he spots them, the red coat glowing through the trees. Koda follows them closely, protectively. Ethan feels himself staring, box heavy in his arms as his eyes track the movement of the netherite axe. Sculk smite is on that axe. Ethan should've known Andy would never feel the same for him. They were still scared of him. Maybe he was scared of himself, as well.
He shakes himself out of his stupor, putain, concentrer. Head down, he walks along the path. Maybe Andy won't notice him...
***
Would they say they regret it? No. Pinefall's don't feel regret. Well, Andy doesn't. So even if they sort of wished they handled it differently, they don't regret it. Or maybe they do. Fuck this shit, feelings are stupid. That's why they leave at the break of dawn to cut down an agregious number of trees, dragging the logs behind themselves all the way to the storage building. Back and forth, pushing all their thoughts to the bottom of their head. Ethan, dad, mum, no attention on any of them. Taylor gave them a journal to write their feelings, and they haven't started yet, but maybe they should. Once their shoulders start aching and the callouses on their hands start to split painfully, they stop. They grab the stupid journal and settle down on the hay in Tomato's pen.
How does one start a journal? I think the whole thing is a stupid idea. I don't need to talk about my feelings, I have no feelings. And any feelings that I may have are dealt with.
They feel stupid, but keep writing. Taylor would be proud.
Desca ordered 4 more chairs, so I've been looking at new wood types to find a set that match the rest of her house. I'm not great at design, Ethan is.
I know what you're thinking, journal, and YES, my feelings for Ethan are very under control. He has magic. He's dangerous. He's not right for me. And honestly, he deserves someone who can support all of his facets. I can't. Even if I did feel something romantic for him, which I DON'T, it wouldn't be worth it. It would just ruin our friendship, and I'm so happy to have him as a friend. I never expected to say that, wow, but it's true. If you had told me a few months ago that I'd be grateful for Ethan, I would've assumed the end had worlded and never believed you. 'You' as in a journal. A book. Fuck's sake, this is such a stupid idea. Stupider, maybe, than any feelings I have for Ethan. Being excited to see him, looking forward to recieving his help, finding excuses to talk to him, and staring maybe a little bit extra when he's around doesn't mean I like him. Because I don't. I can't.
They sigh, shutting the book and tucking it into the pocket of their backpack. Desca did order some chairs, and they do need to get those done. So, he goes to his storage to grab some clay, but there isn't any. Sighing, they walk behind their house and waystone to Giredale. They're alone, no one has to know, and they still have one of those herbs Ethan gave them. They walk down the streets to their market stall and start looking through the chests there. Tossing their backpack to the side, they grab out the wood and clay, leaning over their workbench to design the chairs. Making the four of them takes around a half hour, and they stack them outside of Desca's door before heading back to their cabin. Backpack, and journal, left behind...
***
Once the final box of fish has been appropriately disposed of, he makes his way back to his stall to grab some pumpkins for orders. Andy's disappeared from the forest, which Ethan thanks the constellations for. Something's different at the stalls, though. A backpack left on the ground of Andy's stall. He really shouldn't investigate, should just leave. But... there's a book in the side pocket, and his fingers twitch to read it. He turns away, he should't. Really shouldn't. But he sort of can't help it. It's just laying there, and there's no one around...
He picks it up, just to hold it. To hold something that Andy's held recently, he can almost feel their warmth on the leather. And maybe one of his fingers creeps under the cover... and by then he might as well open it. So he does.
How does one start a journal? I think the whole thing is a stupid idea. I don't need to talk about my feelings, I have no feelings. And any feelings that I may have are dealt with.
Desca ordered 4 more chairs, so I've been looking at new wood types to find a set that match the rest of her house. I'm not great at design, Ethan is.
I know what you're thinking, journal, and YES, my feelings for Ethan are very under control. He has magic. He's dangerous. He's not right for me. And honestly, he deserves someone who can support all of his facets. I can't. Even if I did feel something romantic for him, which I DON'T, it wouldn't be worth it. It would just ruin our friendship, and I'm so happy to have him as a friend. I never expected to say that, wow, but it's true. If you had told me a few months ago that I'd be grateful for Ethan, I would've assumed the end had worlded and never believed you. 'You' as in a journal. A book. Fuck's sake, this is such a stupid idea. Stupider, maybe, than any feelings I have for Ethan. Being excited to see him, looking forward to recieving his help, finding excuses to talk to him, and staring maybe a little bit extra when he's around doesn't mean I like him. Because I don't. I can't.
Wait. FEELINGS? Ethan rereads it.
Being excited to see him, looking forward to recieving his help, finding excuses to talk to him, and staring maybe a little bit extra when he's around....
Oh my god. What the fuck? His heart races in his chest, eyes wide. His breathing is short and shallow, as if he can't fill his lungs. He doesn't know what to do with his body. The cane Andy made for him is at home, hidden from sight since Christmas, so he has nothing to lean on for support while his knees buckle. He rereads the entry over and over again. Andy's scrawled handwriting, slanted and looking rushed. What the fuck. Qu'est ce que cela signifie? Do they feel the same?
No, they can't possibly. Ethan moves 'too fast'. But this writing... it seems like they do. So, fuck it, he does what he shouldn't. Becuase he always fucks things up when it comes to Andy. He grabs the backpack, startlingly heavy for something Andy can carry around all day, and starts through the forest to Andy's cabin. He finds them at the Firetower, tending to the garden that Ethan helped them grow.
"Andy, what the fuck?" Ethan bursts out, more aggressive than he should have, obvious once he spots Andy's slight flinch before they turn around.
"What? Are you-..." They trail off, eyes on the book still in Ethan's hand. "Ethan-"
"What is this? Is this... is this right? Do you really feel that for me? Feel stuff for me at all? What the fuck, Andy?"
"Ethan, it's jus-" Andy starts with their hands up in front of them, trying to diffuse Ethan's panic.
"Don't 'it's just' me! What is this? Just tell me, is it true? You have feelings for me?"
"I-... Ethan..." they look away. Ethan scoffs.
"Holy shit, you FUCKING COWARD! I bare my fucking soul to you! And you, you-what, you fucking reject me? Because you think you're not good enough for me? That's bullshit."
"Ethan- It's not like-"
"It clearly is 'like that'. I can't even understand you!"
"I'm NOT good enough for you! You-you're good, Ethan. All the way through, goodness. I'm..."
"YOU don't get to decide that! You shouldn't just keep secrets all the time!"
"Oh, like you don't keep secrets? I've seen it, Ethan." His mind flashes to the lab in his basement. "I've seen it, I've seen what you do in your fucking... spare time," Andy spits, malice lacing their words.
"How did you find it?"
"What, I'm expected to just NOT find something like that out when we've been friends?"
"Look, Andy, I'm doing it safely, I won't get infec-"
"SAFELY? There's no safe necromanc-" Andy pauses, and Ethan does as well, "What did you just say?"
"What did you say?" Ethan's heart is failing him, eyes blurring.
"Did you just say... you wouldn't get infected? Like from..."
"I thought you knew...?"
"What the fuck? I knew about the necromancy! How you've been looking into it for Lily! You've been surrounding yourself with Sculk, AGAIN? Is this a joke? Are you joking?"
"I-"
"No- fuck no. You don't get to come at me for keeping my feelings secret when you're doing DARK MAGIC, researching the thing that nearly KILLED YOU! You're so-so selfish."
"How is that selfish?"
"How could you put yourself in danger like that! There are people who care about you! I-I care about you. Or at least I did. I don't... I don't know how I feel right now, Ethan. And I suggest you leave."
"Andy, I'm not going to leave you like this." Then he catches it. The movement. He staggers back. "Did you just reach for your axe? The sculk smite axe? Yeah, don't think I didn't fucking notice that. Real nice of you, friend."
"It seems pretty necessary, doesn't it!"
"You can't think I'-" He cuts himself off, his heart going. But it doesn't feel normal, it feels hugely off. He lowers himself onto the peat. "I-..."
"Ethan?" Andy asks, their concern for him showing through their anger for a moment. Ethan doesn't respond, placing his head between his knees.
"Just..."
"Ethan, what's happening?" Ethan feels the ground dip beside him from where Andy kneels down, and spots their hands coming out, considering touching him, but pulling back. "Ethan? Talk to me."
"Can't... breathe."
"You can't breathe? Ok, ok. Uhh-" their hands are frantic, pulling off his sweater. Ethan lets them, keeping his shirt down as the heavy wool is tossed aside. It helps, but only just. "Focus on my voice, ok? Just, uhh..."
Ethan feels his heart beating hard and fast, and his breathing comes out stuttered. "Hurts." He croaks, rubbing his chest.
"Your chest hurts? Your heart?" Ethan nods, then starts frantically tugging at his tunic, nails raking the skin of his ribs through the fabric. "Ethan? What's happening now? Can I... can I see?" Ethan nods, and Andy pulls the tunic up, but takes a step back. "N-no..." They take another step away. "Ethan... Ethan tell me that's not..."
Ethan looks down at his own skin, the bluish tinge of his skin. "Merde."
"That... it happened again?" Ethan shrugs, his breathing still laboured. "Holy shit. You did this to yourself. You just HAD to be the hero, finding out how to research and stop the sculk! You're dying, Ethan!"
"I'm not dying. I've beaten it before." Andy shakes their head.
"I can't believe you. Sure, maybe I did feel something for you. But after this... reckless behavior? Putting yourself in danger? Again?"
"Andy-"
"No, don't. Just... go to Ashlyn for help. I'm not dealing with that again. Stay away from me."
"Andy, wait, no!" Andy just shakes their head. His voice comes out thick and weak, on the verge of tears as he says, "Please..."
"Not... not again." They turn away, hesitating only once before disappearing into the forest. Ethan doesn't know how long he lays on the peat, holding his side, wondering what would happen if he didn't always fuck everything up with Andy. But he does. It's once he sits up and starts pushing back onto his feet that he spots it. Something Andy left behind, this time on purpose.
The goat horn.