To Love, Maybe. (A Flame and Fortune fic)
This was the result of me going insane after recording session 4! Mostly a character study (I think that's the right term?) of Violet's relationship with love, but that does involve Mana and Violet's people back home, Marvel and Amy.
Violet didn’t like the word love.
It was one of those words that was simple in concept, but when you spoke it aloud, you found yourself saddled with expectations and labels. When Violet was younger, love was a trap. It was a way to pull her heartstrings, a method of convincing them that all sacrifices were worth it. After all, she loved her family, right?
Once they moved past that, love was a goalpost Violet could never quite reach. What is a woman (another word Violet hated) without a man? She must be so sad, so lonely, not finding anyone to date. Maybe she should meet someone a friend knows, or try putting herself out there, or go to the club and have fun for once in her life. You know, like a normal person.
Finally, love was two ends of an extreme, not accounting for the space between. Violet remembered being snuggled up on the couch with Amy and Marvel, wanting to say those three terrible words, but scared of what they would hear.
I love you. You're my best friends. I love spending time with you, and you're like my sisters. You'll always be second to true love, the love everyone lives to find.
I love you. I want to be with you. I want to go on dates, and take long walks on the beach, and kiss under the New Year's fireworks. I'm in love with both of you.
What if Violet didn't want either of those meanings to be reality? What if they wanted to hold their friends close and move in with them and spend their lives together, but without roses and kisses and marriage?
What if she wanted to protect them and make them laugh and share secrets under the stars without the responsibility of being an older sister? Would love allow for that?
It had taken courage to explain how she felt to their friends. God, "friends" wasn't enough to describe what Violet had with Marvel and Amy. "Lovers" felt too shallow and too deep all at the same time, like wearing a mitten as a sock. Nothing ever seemed to fit right. But when Violet was with them, things didn't have to make sense. They could just exist. Together.
Violet came to Oakhurst looking for a home. She found Mana. The grumpy, lovable bartender.
Violet didn't like the word love.
Mana's pink streaks reminded Violet of dying Amy's hair with some excess purple. The way Mana rolled their eyes while hiding a smile brought back an image of Marvel doing the same thing at Violet's antics.
But Mana was more than a memory. Mana was real, with rough edges and kind eyes and a strange affection in their voice as they called Violet by her full name.
Violet sat at the bar, teasing Mana about how difficult it was to get in their chairs. They groaned and complained, telling her to figure something out. However, the next day, there were footholds attached to the stools.
Mana opened up to Violet, baring the deepest recesses of their soul. Violet held them close. She believed them. How could they not? Mana wasn't crazy. Everything they'd told Violet turned out to be true. They trusted Violet with the truth. How could Violet do anything against that?
Maybe love could be something else. Violet could make it something else. Something the two of them shared.
Violet picked up her phone, thinking about calling Amy, but their hand stilled. They stood up, walking out of their door and towards the Tavern.
Mana was wrong. There was something in Oakhurst worth staying for.
