It's a funny thing. Having a crush. Gil didn't even like her for a long time. As friends maybe, but nothing more. Sure her face had gotten prettier, the round cheeks slimming down to reveal a kind smile and bright green eyes that had never really stood out before. He hadn't even really liked her then either. This little train of thoughts were happening slowly, sure, but they didn't really go anywhere until Vlad brought it up. Vlad didn't even really like her either. Or maybe her did, Gil wasn't able to tell these days.
Gil hadn't even thought about it in the beginning. When it was just her and him and a dim sky filled with fading stars. When they would spend nights alone just talking and laughing until they both fell asleep. Even then he didn't waste a thought to how clear and warm her laugh was. Or how he didn't even know that she was a she. He probably should have been able to tell, but then again maybe it wasn't just these days.
Vlad had asked it as a joke, a joke that bounced off and was met by a sharp retort and a quick laugh. Not that laugh, just one he usually made. Ragged and shallow. Not rich and deep. No, he hadn't heard that in a long time.
Gil was always alone. Not really at the beginning though, in the beginning she was there and her would always turn to her. But this time she was a girl, a girl who was now far out of his reach. Now he was really alone.
It was probably her not being there. Gil hadn't seen her since back when he laughed. When he would make jokes about how she grew her hair out or the impracticality of her clothes. She would correct him and talk about what ladies do and he would tell her she sounded like Roderich.
She would tell him about Roderich. The way his eyes sparkled as he talked about music, the amount of money he spent on her, how he never make any jokes about her dresses rather he tell her they looked beautiful. He'd smile and blush at the same time when they talked despite how placid he usually looked. How the small emotions that he displayed made her heart beat faster than a greyhound running.
For a while Gil thought he was enthralled by this Roderich. But the more he thought about it lately he was just mesmerized by how happy she sounded when she said his name. He spend hours late at night alone going through her say his name but it never sounded like that.
At the same time it wasn't about him, it was her and Roderich. The only problem was it was this happiness, this version of her, he fell in love with. Maybe it wasn't love, maybe Gil was just over analyzing a bunch of feelings that despite hundreds of years, never made any sense. The bright green eyes that he used to turn to were off limits. So in the end, his one-sided love only existed because she would never love him the way he craved her. The way he wanted to say things that weren't masked with false arrogance or faked amusement. The way he wanted to hold her all night long and gaze up into the skies the dark blue of his country. He couldn't imagine kissing her. He didn't want to. Part of him might have, that part of him might have also wanted to feel every inch of her new body, not the one he used to have mapped out as well as his own. For the most part, Gil wanted Elizaveta to say his name, his real name, and sound as happy as she did with Roderich's.
She'd screamed his named, yelled his name, whispered it. Laughed it. She never said it in a way that made the clouds part and the sun rise, a way that didn't even make you realize how dark it was before.
Gil smiled at that thought, before rolling onto his side, deciding to try something for the first time.
"Elizaveta."
