I Love You | E. V. Kortrevich

[CopOwl 1668]

I LOVE YOU

 

 

Spoiler

Helloo! This is your friendly reminder to not metagame, <3

unless you are aware of the background to my preamble IRP.

However, feel free to engage with the poem itself as you please, as it has been published for the public to read and enjoy !

Thank you for reading my little bit of creativity in all the chaos :D 

 

“... Like someone …?” The person asked, eyes snapping up towards him as they desperately tried to appear as though they were not hanging off of his each and every word. They listened with such intent to the slight figure before them, their mind quivering on the precipice of some tremendous truth, that the faintest drop of poison entered their perception and everything soured. Soon they found themselves listening in rapt to the memory of the words of a deceiver, and their thoughts recoiled at the theory. “If vy’re messing with me- ea need vy to tell me right now.” They found their lips breathlessly speaking, although their rationality could not appreciate the concept; he has never made a joke once in his life, I am being ridiculous. 

 

 

“He is being respectful, da?” Enquired the voice of the Grand Lady, sitting with the person in counsel, although she cast a threatening glance to the dagger concealed upon her hip beneath layers of coats. 

 

“AI, OF COURSE HE IS - !” They replied in despair, “He spooked me- ea-” They sighed dramatically as their muffled voice emanated from where they had concealed their face within the folds of their gown; knees raised to rest their feet on the comfortable tavern chair they were seated upon. “Mari, what am ea meant to do? Ea can’t keep avoiding him forever.” They implored of their patient cousin. 

 

The Grand Lady, for her part, hugged the recently matured person before her closer as a poorly concealed chuckle escaped her. “It can be soh very scary.” She began, gently placing her head upon the person’s own, “But if vy like him, and he likes vy …” Marian Weiss herself grew faint even as she continued to speak, for the memory drifted away from the person’s recollection. The colours of the scene grew murky and obscure, tinged layers of each object in their vision beginning to separate out as sleepy darkness encroached, ultimately enveloping their sight as though they were falling asleep once again.

 

 

The boy stares at the person with founded confusion, “Eam … Niet joking.” He rightly murmurs, advancing on them but furrowing his brows in in concentration as he strains himself to focus his gaze upon their eyes. He appears to examine them for a moment before being forced to avert his gaze and look away, “Ea like vyr eyes …” He murmurs, “They … Have a comfortable warmth within them.” The person meets his gaze for a few seconds; their own eyes wide as their breath catches in their throat. They glance down to his feet as he proceeds unerringly towards them, and they step back in turn as their heart continues to thump upon their chest like a ferrum-soled boot.

 

“That’s-” They glance about for a moment. “Vy’re-” They stutter, their breathing quickening as their mind races with anxiety. “Spas-” Beads of sweat begin to seep from their pores, even in the Haeseni winter chill with flakes of snow falling around them. “That’s- that’s real nice of vy,” As the memory flickers in their unconscious mind, they recall speaking the boy’s name, but can extract neither his name nor his face, despite being able to remember the sincerity of his gaze with precision. They remember the stumbling thud of their boots upon the snow-laden ground as they mumbled their jittery apologies and begin to retreat.

 

 

With the recollection and reality of her heartbeat pounding in her ears, Elena Viorica Kortrevich awakes with a start in the midst of a wintry nocturnal disturbance. Even in the intense cold, the room’s fire withered where its hearth once blazed, perspiration again dots her forehead as she reorients herself and begins to relax.

 

She whispers quiet reassurances and prayers, though among her consolations are the hopes that “Ea though ea had outgrown nightmares …” Once comforted, she begins to note her memory of the vivid dream shrinking away from her clear recollection, and thinks again on her resolution after discussing the matter with Marian. The rises slowly from bed and lights a lamp, careful to restrict her gentle movements to avoid waking anyone sleeping in the rooms beside her own, and fetches her miniature pocketbook and Koravian poetry volume from her effects.

 

Her face illuminated by oiled lamplight, Elena begins to whisper rhymes and jot down the lines and stanzas of her next poem. Her efforts proceed through the hours of howling winds until the ambient light accompanying the sun’s majesty begins to bleed through the shut up windows of the poet’s bedroom. She glances up, only now noticing the sad misery of her burnt-out oil lamp, and fatigue encroaches in. She returns her exhausted gaze to the poem before her, as yet Untitled, and she glances over the brief notes she had made before the dream dissipated in her mind. With her persistent heart once again beating with insistence, she feels as though an anvil were sitting upon her heart, and only one phrase echoing through her groggy mind. Elena extends her quill forth towards the header of the poem’s page, and scrawls three simple words embodying her entire feeling and being in that moment.

 

“I Love You”

 

---

 

The following piece of poetry is published, in homage of I Hate You by VKML Borris Kortrevich:

 

“I LOVE YOU”

BY ELENA VIORICA KORTREVICH

509 E.S.

 

The pain of loving you, 

Watching you drift away I knew, 

Everything between us two, 

Would one day be through, 

But oh, how I love you. 

 

My strain is no fault of yours, 

But all I seek is sweet assures, 

To supply my heart its cures, 

For the endless pain it endures, 

In service of me loving you. 

 

As I await your arrival, 

My beating heart enduring trial, 

I recall your gaze’s spirited revival, 

And suddenly I feel I’m going viral, 

Because of my love for you. 

 

Yet standing before you all naive, 

My voice lost; all it can achieve, 

A quiet utterance as I leave, 

Since all I can do is disbelieve, 

That you chance to love me? 

 

Each word you speak enters like an axe, 

But a boy unaware the agony he exacts, 

Asks just how can I make up my lacks? 

For all my heart does is crack, 

And with what worthiness can I Love You?

[crazedpudding 2124]

Irena Kortrevich is a proud sister, but she's also just smashed a vase. 

 

"BEWARE, BENEDICT AMADOR. BEWARE."

[Cheese 2307]

I’m going to metagame this and Liridona will cry

[CopOwl 1668]

3 minutes ago, crazedpudding said:

Irena Kortrevich is a proud sister, but she's also just smashed a vase. 

 

"BEWARE, BENJAMIN AMADOR. BEWARE."

 

Spoiler

That's not even his name---

 

[crazedpudding 2124]

9 minutes ago, CopOwl said:

 

  Hide contents

That's not even his name---

 

Spoiler

...I knew that.

 

[_yink_ 348]

“Nie. She’s still a baby.” Deep red curls fell over Gwenyth’s face as she shook her head. Tongue tutting off the roof of her mouth as she paced through the streets of Haense. 

[tcs_tonsils_ 2829]

Somewhere, a figure leaned down from where his coins were casted. He tilted his head ever so slightly, aged fingers caressing a dress of purple silk. His eyes loitered upon that fabric before lifting to a table set in the center of the room. Decrepit and old, the wood had began to rot. Upon it, a letter. A grin spread across cracking lips. “Excellent…” 

 

The figure then twisted, his breeze of his cloak blowing out the candlelit room so that all was shrouded in darkness.

 

{Spoiler: Very well written piece! Keep it up, Cop!}