"The world is a stage, but the play is poorly cast," —Oscar Wilde.
"Would you mind if I sat with you?"
His words are soft. There's an unsureness to his tone, as if he's afraid of hearing his own voice. I feel myself smile at him before I speak.
"No, I wouldn't mind. Take a seat." I slide over an inch or two and he places himself beside me, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. I turn back to watch the stars, but I can feel Karl's gaze on me. I feel my cheeks start to heat up and I look over to him, his eyes meeting mine. The corners of his mouth start to turn up and despite his efforts to fight it, a smile forms on his face. He takes a breath.
"You don't have Scooter with you," he points out. He's absent-mindedly fidgeting with the cuffs of his jeans as he speaks, and it's then that I realize just how close his hand is to mine. Simply extending a finger could intertwine my hand with his.
My heartbeat accelerates, but I just chalk it up to my social anxiety.
"Yeah, Scooter's at home asleep," I'm about to continue but before I can, he speaks.
"I didn't think you'd show up." He looks down at the rippling water and I chuckle.
"What, are you disappointed that I did?" I joke with him, smirking a bit. He looks up at me with worry prominent on his face. He starts apologizing profusely, repeating that he didn't mean it like that and that he's sorry for offending me. "No, no, no, don't worry! I was only kidding, you're good," I reassure him. Out of instinct, I had placed my hand on his. He doesn't seems to take notice, however. I don't dare to move.
So that's how we're sitting on this pier, my hand over his until I run my fingers through my hand and adjust myself. I contemplate placing my hand back but I decide against it. However, he takes the initiative and grabs my hand. I feel my breath catch in my throat when I feel his touch.
I look over at him and he's still looking at the stars, paying no mind to what he just did. I turn my head back and we stay like that; Fingers intertwined as we sit in comfortable silence, gazing at the stars. Every now and then I feel his thumb rub the top of my hand in a comforting way, and I squeeze his hand in response. In my peripheral vision I see him turn his head towards me, but I'm still gazing at the night sky, marveling at the clarity of the stars and how bright the moon is.
Everything that's surrounding me is unfamiliar. Holding hands with a boy named Karl, stargazing by a lake in North Carolina as we sit in each others company.
But even though it's all unfamiliar, something about it makes it feel like home.
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THE MOON KNOWS | karl jacobs x reader
Fanfiction"The moon knows." "Excuse me?" "The moon knows that I love you." When they met, the only witness was the night sky. When they grew close, the only witness was the stars. When they fell in love, the only witness was the moon. The setting sun tells th...
