-O-

Picturebook Romance

A Trolls fanfic

By Dreamsinger

Chapter Thirty-Three

A Mess of Scrapbooks

Branch went back to his room to swap out his old journal for his current one while Poppy spread her scrapbooking supplies over his little coffee table. Cheerfully, she began planning out the revised version of the scrapbook she had shown friends earlier, the tale of how she and Branch had declared their love to one another.

This new one will tell the same tale, it'll just be a little more…discreet. Even though we trolls are taught that making love is beautiful and natural, my friends reminded me that it's also not something you do with just anybody. So I guess it's also natural to want to keep that part of a relationship private; just between you and your partners.

While I'm at it, I think this time I'll put the stuff that happened yesterday into its own scrapbook, and make a separate one for just today's events.

The original two-day scrapbook would go into her private collection, alongside those few she had told Branch that only a few trolls, including him, were allowed to read, such as Times I was Selfish, I Wish I Had a Mom, and My Secret Crushes.

She grinned. Haha, I wonder what Branch will say when he reads that my first serious crush was him!

By the time Branch returned, the scrapbook queen was well on her way to making glorious mess; a veritable rainbow hurricane of felt, embellishments and glitter. And Branch, aside from casting a wry smirk in her direction, didn't say a word about it.

He's definitely in love with me, she thought smugly.

Her boyfriend sat down next to her on the couch and opened his journal on his lap, reaching into his hair to pull out a black beetle-ink pen. Poppy noticed that she could see part of the last entry.

glad I managed to find enough flashbugs for Poppy. I'm really looking forward to Beadfest this year. It's going to be so great, hanging with my friends. And Poppy, of course. Every day is special when I'm with her

"Ahem." Branch was looking at her pointedly.

"Oh!" She flushed hotly and clapped her hands over her eyes. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to read it, but your handwriting is so neat and easy to read - I was reading before I knew it and I just – I" She dropped her hands and gave him a sheepish grin, hunching her shoulders. "Sorry."

Holding her breath, she waited for his reaction.

He let her dangle for a long, anxious moment before he lifted an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth turned up. "I'm just going to take that as a compliment. Good to know I'm as fascinating to you as you are to me."

She blew out a relieved breath. "Whew! Thanks, Branch, I-" Then the meaning of his words sank in. "Awwwww, Branch! Thank you!" she cooed, scooching closer to him until she was pressed against his side. "You say the sweetest things."

She loved that she could feel it when he chuckled.

"Oh, Poppy, what am I gonna do with you?" he said in amusement, sliding an arm around her for a sideways hug. Delighted, she put her arms around him, ducking her head so she could press it against his chest. His other hand, still holding his pen, came up to cup her elbow and he rested his chin on her head and let out a sigh of contentment.

Mmm, I could do this every night. Poppy rubbed her cheek against the soft fuzz of his chest, breathing in his sweetish scent and letting the steady beat of his heart relax her.

A short time later Poppy felt a discreet puff of air through her hair. Her eyes popped open. What's he doing?

Then Branch let loose a mighty sneeze, blasting her hair away from his face.

She jerked upright. "Whoa!"

"Sorry." Branch rubbed his nose. "Your hair was tickling me."

"Oh." Poppy giggled, realizing her topknot must have gone a little droopy. "I guess you got me a little too relaxed. Sorry."

"That's okay." He gave her a thoughtful look.

"What?"

"I just realized… That's the first time anyone's ever found me relaxing. Feels kinda nice." His face relaxed into a dreamy smile of his own, and suddenly it took all her willpower not to kiss him right then and there. She had to bend over her project to stop herself from taking advantage of his tempting nearness.

As her boyfriend went back to his own project, Poppy discovered she couldn't keep her eyes on her work. She was dying to see what he was writing about her. He did say I could read today's entry, after all.

But although his pen tapped at the page, it stayed disappointingly blank.

Finally she suggested helpfully, "Trying to figure out how to start? How about 'Once Upon A Time'? It's a classic opening line."

Her boyfriend looked uncomfortable. "It's not that. I know what I want to say, but I - I can't concentrate while someone's staring at me."

She blinked. "Was I staring? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to weird you out."

She sighed. At the rate I'm going, I'm not going to make any progress either. "Look, why don't I move down onto the floor? I could use more room to spread out, anyway."

"Okay."

She and Branch moved the little table out of the way and she spread her supplies out on the floor and sat down on the far side, facing her boyfriend.

Poppy began to cut out some new shapes, but lost interest halfway through. She picked up some figures and shapes that she had already cut out, shuffling them around on the page, but nothing felt right. Maybe something is missing? She checked her supplies, but she had everything she usually needed, and more besides.

She saw Branch fidgeting, too, crossing one leg, uncrossing it, setting the book in his lap, writing something, crossing it out, leaning back, then bending over the book again.

When she heard him let out a sigh that was really more of a groan, she looked up at him across the sea of felt and paper, glitter and glue, and saw the same troubled discontentment on his face. As he met her gaze, something clicked, and suddenly each of them knew exactly what the other was thinking without having to speak.

They wanted to be close to one another.

"This isn't working out, is it?" he said with a rueful smile.

He's right. How can we both work on our hobbies, not interfere with each other, and still be all cuddly-close? An idea surfaced. "Hey, I know!"

The pink troll got up and went to her boyfriend, turning around so that she was facing away from him, then sat down with her back pressed against his legs. Obligingly he moved them to the sides and she snuggled down in between them, resting her back comfortably against the couch. Rather than feeling hemmed in, his warm, sturdy legs felt almost like a hug, grounding her and making her feel safe and cared for. She liked that; as if nothing would disturb them here in this tranquil, secluded little hideaway.

"That's much better," he said, and she turned to smile up at him. He returned the smile, fondly stroking his palms over her shoulders. Poppy closed her eyes to savor his gentle touch, then slid her own hands down his legs, intending to pat his feet in return, but as her hands passed over his ankles, his legs wriggled and he gave an adorable high-pitched giggle.

She turned to look up at him. "What was that?"

"Oh, nothing. It was nothing," he said with false nonchalance, and Poppy stared at him before repeating her movements. This time his legs barely twitched, but she caught the quick snort he was trying to stifle.

"What the… Oh my gosh. Branch. Are your legs ticklish?"

"No. I mean, not really…"

She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, yeah?" The young queen slid her hand down one fine strong leg, swirling her fingers in little circles, and watched with eager delight as he tried to hold back his laugh, but as pink fingers neared his ankle, he couldn't hold it in, letting out a quick burst of mirth.

"They are!" she chirped gleefully.

"Okay, Poppy, come on!" he protested laughingly as he did a split on the couch, trying to move his legs out of her reach. "I need to get this done."

Undaunted, she shot tendrils of hair out to wrap around each leg, trapping them so she could draw delicate magenta curlicues teasingly over aquamarine skin. Branch let out an involuntary whoop, wildly flailing his legs in the air but being careful not to hit her. "Pop – Poppy! Ah ha ha!"

Suddenly his legs were tugged from her grasp as he executed an agile one-handed handstand, clutching his journal and pen in the other hand, his toes pointed to the ceiling. "Please stop!"

He'd said 'please'. "Oh, fine." She rolled her eyes and smirked, setting her fists on her hips. "So, do you admit your legs are ticklish now?"

Branch took a minute to catch his breath. "No." She started to move her hair again and he added hastily, "Just my ankles."

"Your ankles, huh?" She cupped her chin. Good to know.

He was still giving her a wary look. "Not that this isn't delightful, but it's probably not a good idea to have another laughing fit so soon after last night. My stomach may never recover."

"Oh, right." Forgot about that. My stomach's already back to normal, but maybe his isn't. "Sorry about that, Branch." She gave him a sweet smile, concealing her mischievous inner grin. But just wait'll we have that tickle fight we talked about yesterday! Heh heh, I know your weak spots now! Never would have thought to try his ankles…

He hesitated for a few seconds and Poppy did her best to project wide-eyed innocence. He wasn't entirely fooled, but he did sit and let his legs hang down against her sides again. She just barely managed to hold back the urge to go after his cute ankles, merely snuggling down into his reassuring presence.

Sighing happily, Poppy turned her renewed attention back to her project, listening to the soothing sound of her boyfriend's pen scruffing steadily across the paper.

-O-

It didn't take long for Poppy to finish the revised scrapbook, as rather than end it with his panic attack in bed, the pink troll decided to cut the evening short at the same point where she had stopped earlier, when Branch started to run away and then chose to listen to his heart and come back to her. Her friends had loved the sugary-sweet romantic happy ending, after all, and so would the rest of the trolls.

The only thing missing from this scrapbook is our first kiss. Everyone will be waiting for the sequel. She laughed to herself. And so am I!

Oh, that reminds me. "You know, I really need to think of something to thank our friends for their help…" she mused aloud.

"I've been thinking the same thing, so I'm writing them a poem," Branch replied.

Poppy was pleased. "Branch! That is a great idea!" She twisted around to beam up at him, letting her forearm come to rest comfortably on his knee, loving his proud smile. "Ooo! Or how about a song?" she suggested brightly.

"How about both?" they said together, and laughed.

"Have I ever told you I love it when we're on the same page?" Poppy gestured enthusiastically in the air.

"Oh, yeah? Well, I love that it happens so often," Branch responded, his grin melting into a look of fond appreciation. "You have no idea of how good that feels, after 'livin' alone, with no one to call my own…'" he sang, and his ears perked up. "Ooo! That's good. I've gotta write that down."

He made a few notes on a fresh page of his journal. Poppy waited a minute, but he seemed absorbed in his writing, so she turned back to her own work.

Eventually Branch explained absently, "I'm still working on the song you heard me singing in your bathtub."

"Oh, really? Want some help?" Poppy asked as she carefully trimmed the wavy edge of a tree.

"Oh, believe me, you help me plenty, just by being alive. You're… 'You're my muse, my inspiration. You're the light of my life, my Sunshi-hiiiine,'" he sang, his light tenor lifting to a delightfully sweet high note.

And then her jaw dropped as she felt the unmistakable soft touch of a kiss on the top of her head. "Thanks, Poppy."

She heard the scruff of his pen start up as she sat there, stunned.

He…he kissed me again. Does he even realize what he did?

She didn't dare look up to check his expression. It was all Poppy could do to hold herself down, her eyes closed and her hands still, bursting with the urge to throw herself on him and cover his face with affectionate kisses. Considering the way he keeps kissing me, maybe he wouldn't mind…

But she was still a little afraid of scaring him off if she came on too strong. She needed to be inviting, receptive, encouraging. Understanding, like Dad said.

It wasn't easy, though. Queen Poppy was very much a take-charge kind of troll.

Yet, letting Branch take the lead seemed to be working.

Finally she shrugged, thinking wryly, Oh, well. If he stalls his forward progress, I can always throw myself on him then.

Branch seemed to have no shortage of inspiration now, judging by the way his pen flew across the paper, so the pink troll decided to finish her original Unofficial First Date AKA Ice Cream scrapbook next. She was working on a page of the two of them looking exactly as they were right now, contentedly enjoying their hobbies and each other's company, with hearts floating all around them, when Branch unexpectedly spoke.

"Hey, Poppy, aren't you going to include your uh, accident?'

Surprised, she glanced up to see him looking over her shoulder. "What? No, of course not, Branch."

"Poppy, I don't think you should leave it out."

Poppy stared at him in disbelief, then scoffed. She dropped one shoulder and tilted her head, rolling her eyes at him as she said in amusement, "Branch. This is a love story. No one wants to see something like that."

"Are you sure? Because it's not accurate if-"

"Branch!" she snapped in irritation, and then at his look of surprise, tried to show a little more patience. "Look, I know accuracy is important to you, but I don't want to be reminded of my accident every time I read this scrapbook. Because it was just that, an unfortunate accident. And I'd rather forget about it, okay?"

He opened his mouth as if to argue with her, but then let out a long breath. He set his journal beside him on the couch, and she felt the chill of cool air hit her sides as he swung his legs away from her and stood up. "Let me show you something."

Her boyfriend led her to a cool, dry storeroom that contained several enormous waterproof gourds leaning against the wall; tall and narrow, with thick, tough yellow rinds. Poppy was surprised when Branch used his hair to pry off the top of one of the gourds. I didn't realize he was using them for storage.

Grunting with the effort, her boyfriend used his dark purple hair to slowly lift out a heavy wooden box. The box turned out to be full of books, both scrapbooks and handwritten journals like Branch's. Poppy noticed that all the spines were showing and facing in the same direction, which made it easy to find what you were looking for without having to pull out every book. She grinned. No need to ask who packed these boxes.

"Where did these books come from? I've never seen them before," she commented curiously.

"They were my family's," he replied as he scanned the titles.

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him with wide eyes. His family's? I never knew that!

Branch closed the first box and, straining, lifted out a second. "I know it was in one of these… Ah! Here it is," he said triumphantly, lifting out an old, tattered scrapbook covered in orange-colored stains. "Safety Guidelines and Practices, Volume 9."

Poppy teased him, "No offense, Branch, but a title that boring sounds like it's definitely something from your family. Wait…" She sniffed. "Is that...pasta I smell?"

"Oh, yeah. I kind of had an 'accident' of my own," he said sheepishly.

She smirked. "I would have thought that you of all people would take better care of your books."

He protested defensively, "Hey, don't judge me. I was feeling really emotional at the time, and I needed some comfort food, okay?"

She pictured him as a lonely, scared teenage boy, clinging to the last remnants of his beloved family, and her playful mood vanished. "Sorry," she said contritely. "So, what was it you wanted me to see?" She tried to lift the crumbling cover without damaging it.

"That technique I taught Leafe, the one he used to save your life? I learned it from this scrapbook."

Her breath caught. Branch lifted the scrapbook from her suddenly frozen fingers and carefully turned the pages until he stopped at one that was missing nearly a third of the page. But she could still make out two trolls who might have been hugging if not for the fact that one was facing the wrong direction, clutching its throat.

Poppy felt Leafe's phantom limbs around her middle, jolting the life back into her. A shiver went up her spine and she broke out into a sweat.

Branch said seriously, "If someone hadn't recorded this knowledge, you'd be dead right now."

He looked at her as if he expected her to argue, but her eyes were locked on the horrifying picture. There were some words of explanation, but she couldn't read them.

After a few seconds he put the old scrapbook back in its box and closed the lid. Walking to the big gourd, he used his hair to lift the first box, carefully maneuvering its solid weight through the gourd's narrow opening.

She became aware that she was panting, skin fizzing, heart thudding in her ears. Was there a lump in her throat?

Branch began to lift the second box. "I know it's hard to you to think about it, but you have to admit that it might happen to someone else someday. You can see how important it is, can't y- Poppy!" Branch shouted. The wooden box with his precious family heirlooms inside smashed on the floor, but he paid it no heed as he took her face in his hands. "It's okay, Poppy. Breathe. Just breathe."

"I ca- can't…" she huffed, trying to suck in more and more air, knowing she was hyperventilating but unable to stop herself. The room started to go fuzzy around the edges and a high keening note shrilled in her ears. Those awful, awful black smears started to form in front of her eyes…

"Poppy!" Branch's bellow cut through the keen and his brilliant blue eyes bored into hers. "Focus on me. Control your breathing. Pretend we're doing yoga. Come on, breathe with me."

His nostrils flared and he took in a deep, long breath, held it, then slowly exhaled. He took one of her hands and placed it on her stomach. "Come on, Poppy. You can do it. Breathe out all that old air first."

With him leading, she managed to push out a breath, then pull in a new one, fresh air rushing easily down her throat. Her belly swelled under her hand, helping her shift her attention to where the problem was. Years of yoga practice kicked in, and within a minute she was breathing smoothly, her panic fading away.

She was able to smile at Branch, who smiled back, easing the worry lines on his face. "You okay now?"

"Yeah. Thanks. Sorry I freaked out just now."

His smile vanished. He looked down and his ears dipped. "I'm sorry, Poppy. It was my fault. I shouldn't have pushed you. Just forget I said anything."

She was silent for a long moment, sorting it all out, then said simply, "No, Branch. You were right."

"I- What?" Aquamarine ears lifted as he tilted his head, giving her a quizzical look.

"I said you're right. It is important knowledge. For all we know, some future cataclysm might happen and most of our scrapbooks get destroyed, but our scrapbook is someone's favorite love story and so they manage to keep it safe and then a long, long time from now someone else uses the knowledge in it to save a life."

He blinked at her rush of words. "O…kay. That sounds like something the old me would have said, but yeah, something like that. I just that don't like to see valuable knowledge left out. It's too easy for it to be lost, or forgotten. Like, there's no record of the Heimlich maneuver in any of our current scrapbooks."

"Yeah," she agreed, subdued.

She walked past him and knelt in front of the splintered remains of the box he had dropped to rush to her side. Branch joined her in reclaiming the books from the wreckage. Poppy was sad to see that most of the books were damaged. Worse, nearly all the pages of his family's safety scrapbook had torn lose from their binding, which was little more than a row of threads with dried-out glue flaking off. Clumps of faded, frayed felt dropped to the floor.

"Oh, Branch. I'm so sorry," she said mournfully. "Your family heirlooms…"

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I think it's probably time to replace the outer cover at least. Maybe redo a few of the pages."

She brightened and leaped to her feet. "Ooo! Ooo! I'll do it! Let me make it up to you for wrecking them!"

"Poppy, you didn't wreck-"

"Branch, let me do it! Pleeease? I promise I'll recreate every single page exactly the same, down to the last speck of glitter."

At the mention of glitter his nose automatically wrinkled, but even so, he looked touched. "Okay. I guess it makes sense to leave the scrapbooking to the expert. Thank you," he said sincerely.

She began to gather up the books, but he set a hand on her arm. "Poppy, it can wait. There's no real hurry. You've had a long day, remember? Better to wait until you're fresh, after a good night's sleep, okay?"

"But-"

He was already using his hair to carefully lift the books a few at a time into the gourd.

Poppy sighed. Wanting to be helpful, she gathered most of the broken pieces of wood with her hands and hair. He picked up the rest, and they made their second trip of the night to the waste-bin, which, to her chagrin, was getting rather full after the night's misadventures. Uncharacteristically, Branch didn't seem to mind.

As they headed back to his living room, he took her hand. "Seriously, Poppy, you don't have to include your accident in our scrapbook. I can make several copies of my family's scrapbook for the village. In fact, I should have thought of that a long time ago. There was absolutely no need for me to get you so upset."

"No, Branch, you were right. I've never censored important stuff, like when I was teaching the trollings about the bergens, and I shouldn't start now. In fact, I think we should include the Heimlich maneuver in other scrapbooks, too." She started counting on her fingers. "Like medical scrapbooks, cooking scrapbooks, tea party stories…"

Branch rolled his eyes, cracking a smile. "Oh, man. Here we go. Look, just don't overdo it, all right?"

She smirked smugly at him. "Oh, don't be such a mother bird, Branch. Remember, scrapbooking is my jam."

As they entered the living room, Poppy added, "Besides, Leafe deserves to be remembered for saving me." She let her voice slip down an octave. "And so do you, honey-boy."

He gave her a surprised glance. Then his face relaxed into a crooked grin and Poppy was tickled to see a tinge of lavender on his cheeks. Flirting is so much fun!

-O-

Poppy began to work on a new scrapbook while I continued writing down everything that had happened to me over the past day, all the wonderful, extraordinary, life-changing events that had completely taken me by surprise. If someone had told me yesterday that I'd be sitting here in my bunker with the love of my life cozily snuggled down between my feet, I wouldn't have believed them.

It's the strangest feeling. Whenever I see her, I want to reach out to her. I mean, I'm not exactly touch-shy or anything, but considering I spent my life avoiding hugs, it feels so weird to have such a powerful desire to touch someone. It's a good thing she seems to feel the same way about me, or this would be reeeally awkward.

Although, Poppy's actually more shy than I would have guessed, especially after all the flirting we've been doing all day. Maybe it's just that it's finally occurred to her that we're truly alone together, with no one around to interrupt us, not even our friends.

I wonder, does she feel the pull between us? It's like we're two pieces of magnetized iron, or…like the earth and the sun, revolving around each other in a sensual dance. Dancing… Mmm… You know, I'd like to dance with my girl, a romantic slow-dance under the moon…

I let my thoughts drift pleasantly for a minute, enjoying the vaguely surreal feeling of living a dream come true, before setting my pen to paper again. Hey, this is good stuff. As always, my word rainbow flows like a stream of crystal prisms at the mere thought of the beautiful muse I'd dreamed of for so long.

Writing everything down helped it seem more real. But I wasn't used to writing for an audience. Not since I'd lived with Leafe had another troll taken such an interest in what I had to say, so I found myself choosing my words with great care.

Maybe that's why it took me so long to realize how quiet Poppy had gotten. When I finally looked up some time later, she was sitting still and silent in front of a strange, pitch-black page.

At first I thought it was just a night sky, but there were no stars or moon, only a tiny pink troll crying in a great dark void. A chill ran down my spine. I knew it. She's a lot more bothered than she lets on.

With a sinking stomach, I peered through the feathery fluff of her bright magenta topknot to see her begin a new page, showing the two of us hugging; a typical scene that eased my worry a little. She showed us in my bunker, which was bright and cheerful, with smiling walls and furniture, lit by a warm yellow light.

But the outside world wasn't so nice. In fact it, was downright terrifying, dark and windy, full of tortured trees with evil faces and menacing creatures roaming the land.

I swallowed. This isn't good. I've never seen Poppy create something so disturbing. Even her old bergen scrapbooks didn't look like this. But the worst thing is…it feels familiar. 'The bunker is safety, the outside world is full of threats.' Just the way I used to see it.

I can't let this happen to her. Not my Sunshine.

I decided my journal could wait. "Hey, Poppy?" I said casually, keeping my eyes on the journal page that I no longer really saw.

As I expected, she jumped and clapped the pages of the scrapbook shut as if she didn't want me to see it. "Um, yes, Branch?"

"Do you think you can wrap up soon? We need to head out."

"Head out? You mean, outside?" She gave me a look of alarm. "Why?"

"I need to go on a Stroll Patrol."

I was surprised at how easily the old name came to my lips, rather than my usual 'perimeter check'. Talking about my foster dads earlier must've brought back some old habits.

"What's a Stroll Patrol?"

"Well, I don't really call it that anymore. It was kind of a joke between me and my foster dads. It just meant taking a nightly walk around the village before bed, so we could talk to one another and unwind after a busy day."

She looked surprised. "Oh, that sounds…unexpectedly relaxing. Good for you, Branch."

"Also it gave me the chance to do a final perimeter check around the village."

"Aaaand there went my image of a happy, peaceful family stroll."

I was glad to see she still had her sense of humor.

"I also need to do a few quick chores. I didn't get to do them yesterday – not that I regret it. I had something very important taking up my attention," I flirted, but for the first time, Poppy didn't respond in kind, confirming my fears.

"Maybe we shouldn't go, Branch. You know, it was getting pretty cold out there, and it's so nice and cozy in here."

There was a definite undercurrent of apprehension flowing beneath her surface cheer.

"Poppy…"

"Oh, come on, Branch. Let's just enjoy spending a nice quiet evening together. I'll help you do your chores in the morning, okay?"

I crossed my arms. "No can do, Poppy. Besides, since when do you enjoy nice quiet eve-"

"Branch, for the last time, I told you I don't want to go out there!"

Both of us froze as the shrill note of near-panic shattered the peaceful atmosphere.

At the shock on my face, Poppy backpedaled, raising her hands in the air. "Sorry! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have raised my voice at you. That was really, really rude of me."

I stared at her for a long moment, long enough for her to start fidgeting. "Listen, I need to check my traps. And I should probably make sure the toastybugs still have some food if we want hot water for baths tonight. If they run out, they'll leave their den underneath my bathing pool to go forage for themselves."

"Your bathing pool?" Poppy finally showed some interest. "You know, it's almost big enough to swim in..." Then she got the look in her eyes that usually meant trouble for me. "Hey, Branch? Know what we should do?"

I sighed. "What?"

"Take a bath together! Can we?"

It was the perfect opportunity. "If you come help me do my chores right now, sure."

She bit her lip. "Well…okay."

Author's Note:

I'mafanofFANFICTIONS suggested that Poppy would have a secret scrapbook about how she feels about her mother.

Like many of you, I'm learning about relationships. I have not had much experience in the real world, being mostly focused on school and work for over a decade, so lately I decided to do a bit of self-education. For example, I Googled "healthy relationships" to study what to look for in a partner or a friend (and in family members), and also to compare my past behavior with what is recommended (from reputable sources, preferably, not random social media sites). Like Branch, I like to be prepared, lol!

Books are an excellent start. They can help you become more introspective and able to recognize good and bad patterns in your own behavior and beliefs that affect your relationships in positive and negative ways.

If you have people in your life who are in healthy relationships, it's good to ask them for advice, too, which is why I have Branch going to Cherry Blossom and Leafe. I've followed in his footsteps and reached out to a few people myself lately. It's not easy to show vulnerability, but to my surprise, the people I have reached out to, such as WildKat25, have responded with empathy and understanding and that has made me feel more self-confident about the idea of relationships in general. And the people I have reached out to say it also helps them feel good about themselves, to have used their life experiences to have helped me, which is kind of awesome, really. Communication really is a two-way street.

The chapter title is a pun. It's actually four different meanings in one. Can you guess all four? ;)