Fact and Fantasy (Wilson x Reader)

Can I take these?

"There! Haha!" You tie off your third piece of rope. You look up, pleased with yourself, only to find that this show off's got you beat by seven. "How are you doing these so fast?!"
"Muscle memory?" He shrugs, not quite knowing either.
"You must've done this a lot then.." you pick up a new set of grass and set to it.
"Yeah...I'm hoping to make a machine to speed up the process." He pauses, flexing his hands "and to spare my fingers."
You smile at the joke "arthritis isn't very fun."
"Indeed."
"So you like making things?"
"Why yes, always have. Loved taking stuff apart as a kid. Got me in trouble when I lost bits of the good clock and some of the radio..."
"Radios are pretty cool." You set down your finished rope and start again. "My dad used to listen to them all the time as a kid."
"Yeah, I guess they're 'cool'." His expression darkened a bit as he seemed to think about something.
"His family had one that played old shows." You try changing the subject.
"They've made more now? I thought there was only A Comedy Danger."
"Nah, there's hundreds of 'em. What's A Comedy Danger about?"
He regales you with the harrowing tale of Jack, Mary, and Bax, being trapped in a mine. There desperate attempts to escape the dark nightmare. The water rising up past their ankles, their knees, their waist. It was magical seeing his face change with every character. How his hands began gesturing wildly, showing the forever unseen movements of the trio. You can't help but grin when you see the rope he'd been so focused on go flying from his grasp.
"And I quote "Bax! Bax! - Good God, he's gone!""
You nod, still smiling "you tell good stories." They were your Achilles heel.
"Who, me? What? No, no." He waves his hands in front of him, deflecting your compliment. "I mean, it's not even mine."
"Still, you told it." You poke at him. He huffs in return, unable to refute that fact.
"I really like stories... they're nice." You add, a little wistful, missing your books.
"Well, maybe you could tell me one."
"What?" You snap back into focus.
"Yeah, if you want. Like a story exchange." He smiles.
"I guess.." you start thinking. "Once... there was a woman named Eevanwel. Everyday she would look out across the land from her fairy throne and smile at the soft flicker of distant campfires, after which she's named. These lights were allowed to burn in her peoples homes in a time of peace and prosperity.
"But there came an army from the south, upon a hot wind. All she could do was watch, for fairy queens are forbidden to intervene the works of man. She watched as campfires and hearths were smothered by the dozen, a thick smoke rising to the air. The homes of her people set ablaze with that same light she is called after. Her joy and happiness used as a weapon against those she loved.
"She heard the screams of her daughters to spare their honor, the cries of her sons to return their families. She heard the wails of the babes, calling for their mother's as they hid.
"She felt their blood on her hands." You pause, to think and separate the story.
"In the morning, Eevanwel went out to the homes of the lost. She felt the hot ash crunch beneath her feet. Every survivor she met, she gave her blessing. Her people could rebuild, this she knew, they would recover, with time. But what she didn't know, is that as she gave her blessing, her sister, Cliona, cursed the children, and the ash that covered their bodies turned to men of dark figures."
"At first the figures and the people lived peacefully together. They helped each other restore their homes, plant the crops, and gather food. But there came a day when Cliona's curse truly began." You look at Wilson a moment, testing if he was still interested or paying attention. You continue on.
"Eevanwel was walking with one of the children she loved most, a little girl whose name has been forgotten by the ages, when she told Eevanwel of the strangest thing. The young girl, in hushed tones, told of how the ashen man who had come to care for her had burned her skin in the night. Eevanwel looked her arms over, and to her horror, found the angry burns. They wrapped around the child's arms and up her neck. These were burns even Eevanwel could not heal.
"So the Fairy Queen began her watch over the child. The burns were growing worse. When she saw her little girl, she was always accompanied with the Ashen man and a new bruise.
"The Queen came to their home that night and begged the man to leave the poor girl, that she might care for the child. The man gave no reply, but in a rage, forced on her the same burns as the girl. It was then that Eevanwel decided to stay.
"The next night she stood watch at the foot of her child's bed, watching every move of the man in the doorway. Standing between him and his prey. He would hurt her, leave her scarred, burned, and bruised, but she would never leave. And so they stayed in this stalemate, even when the child was grown. Because then it was the girls's children she was defending.
"On and on their battle went, stretching into eternity. Even when their bodies gave out, their souls remained, one trying to harm the children of the girl, and the other shining soul blocking his way." You hesitate before forming the last sentences "and that is why we have a scarred moon and why the sky beyond it is so black." You watch for Wilson's reaction, worried that choosing a fairy tale of all things was silly. But he doesn't laugh, he just stares at you before handing you a small scrap of fabric. Being so wrapped up in your own tale, you hadn't noticed the beads of water trickling down your cheeks. You take the cloth, but instead opt to just wipe your eyes with your hands, completely defeating the purpose of what you'd just been handed.
"Are you okay?" Wilson asks you, worry lacing his voice.
"Yeah! I'm fine, sorry, I don't even know why I started, it's so silly really" you start babbling on and on before he gets a word in edge wise.
"It's okay!"
You stop your incessant droaning "what?"
"You're human, I guess the story just meant more to you than you thought, and that's okay." He gives you a sincere look "it's okay to be human."
You sit there, stunned a moment. "Right. Well," you look to the sky "it's getting late and I really should go.. may I take these with me?" You gesture to all the rope you guys made.
"Oh, yes, of course!" He picks it up and winds it all into neat loops before handing them to you.
"Thanks a lot," You half smile, putting it all in one of your bag pockets.
"Any time."

You wave good bye from the edge of his camp and head home.