[url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/255163108/0/0]Table of Contents[/url]
Do you have any idea how hard it‘s been to keep a secret like this for an entire year?
Of course you don’t, you’ve never had a secret as big and terrible as mine. It’s tiring. I mostly credit my success to stealth and care, but after going this long I’m pretty sure everyone else’s obliviousness is a testament to their own low intelligence.
[i]*cough*[/i] You’re all idiots [i]*cough*[/i]
I mean, I already knew Titans couldn’t even connect two dots if they were on a sheet of paper, but Hunters and Warlocks, too? [i]Really?[/i] We‘re together constantly and usually in public -to my great dismay she doesn’t seem to understand the gravity of our illicit romance. Pretty sure the signs are obvious.
Then again, Hunters have the whole “lone wolf, space cowboy, edgy lord of the night” thing going on (obviously I’m a rare exception). And Warlocks already have a dedicated, faithful marriage to moldy books that smell like Scorn look. So I guess none of you have any idea what a date looks like. I pity you all.
Working so hard to keep my girlfriend a secret has been putting a lot of stress on me. Imagine keeping an entire person a secret for a year. Imagine if anyone found out. A cool, handsome Hunter falling for a dorky Warlock? We’re basically sworn enemies. Other Hunters would spit on me if they knew. The Warlocks would vaporize me. Titans would give me a HUGE cold shoulder. I’d be ridiculed; seen as trash in the eyes of the whole City.
And how could I, a mildly-respectable Hunter, stoop so low as to crush on a Warlock? It ties my mind in knots. She’s a Warlock! She loves reading, obsesses over all these little bits of trivial information, talks about nerdy garbage, and she doesn’t like knives! [i]Not even a little![/i] There’s no possible way we could be compatible. Not even the Vex could simulate a reality where I would be attracted to her. And yet…Traveler strike me down, she is [i]hot.[/i]
There isn’t any doubt anymore, for a long time now I’ve been completely infected by Warlock floofiness. Just being next to her has exposed me to lethal amounts. The floof has seeped so deep into my bones that it clings to them even after death and revival. It’s like a terrible fever, blurring my mind with senseless nonsense. All I can ever think of is her. Her face, her eyes, her smile, her laugh.
Maybe this is some kind of secret Warlock magic that hijacks your brain. Maybe one day my mind will be completely erased and I’ll be filtered into the Warlock ranks as a zombie puppet. Ikora would probably be the mastermind. She could pull it off.
How do I know I’m already a lost cause? Because I don’t want it to stop. Despite all the stress, the wrath I’ll face if we’re discovered, all the reasons I shouldn’t even like her…
WHY DO I STILL THINK SHE’S PERFECT?!
Floofy fever, that’s why. Sideffects include, but aren’t limited to:
-Not being sickened by the presence of Warlocks
-Thinking about…universe stuff?
-Crushing on Warlocks
-Quoting dictionary definitions
-Ranting about boring stuff
-Fascination with super random stuff like nuclear fission and frogs
-Reading
-Spontaneous combustion
So let me tell you [i]all[/i] about the perfect girl: Romy
No other known alias, but I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be short for “Romantic.” Or maybe…uh, I don’t know, “Fibromyalgia” or something? Ah, another symptom of Floofy Fever.
-using big words that no one has any business knowing
Anyway, Romy is a Warlock. And a [i]huge[/i] Crucible nut. Seriously, obsessed with the Crucible. It’s all she ever does. And she’s good at it. She’s been kicking my sorry rear end for years.
What else…she’s drop-dead gorgeous. Absolutely stunning; the most beautiful girl you will ever see in all of your lives. She’s so sweet, infinitely patient, always knows what to say, she makes the most terrible puns, she’s always so serene and calm, the very image of grace-
[b]”WHAAAAAT?!?!”[/b]
Startled out of my thoughts by the sudden exclamation, I jolt to attention. In that movement all my balance is lost and I feel my back slide off of the ledge. My body lurches as gravity seizes control and pulls me down. At that moment I realize I’m falling, and that it’s already too late for me to do anything about it. “Aw, sh-“
I land hard on my shoulder and grunt in pain. “Shanks!” Quickly recollecting myself, I cover up the embarrassing incident by propping my head up with an arm and striking a casual pose, as if I’d been lounging here on the floor the whole time. “What’s up, Romy?”
Romy turns to me, pulling off her helmet with a distressed huff. She’s adorable when she pouts.
“They’re canceling Crimson Days!”
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Awesome story. I love his (what's his name?) sort of confused emotion when he talks about Romy. Keep it up!