There are four white cards set face up over the table before her, each printed with a symbol different from the others. There is a silver diamond, a black spade, a gray club, and, last but not least, a red heart. They are all aces.
The troll child seems to study the objects that have been presented to her intently, her blind orbs locked as they see nothing beyond bright red. This does not pose as a disadvantage to her though, as her nose and tongue does a better work than her eyes ever could have. With them, she can understand the situation she is in, smelling the very essence of the meaning that is hidden behind them. She can feel the emotion that resides within the quadrants that she has grown to know so well.
She is mostly unmoving; the hushed sound of her lung's inhale and exhale the only thing that escapes her closed lips. Her mind is at much work, thinking, arguing, debating. She is contemplating what precious things she has been offered, attempting to decide on the best possible solution to all of it. She does it because she knows, because she knows that her time has been completely drained. She can no longer run, she can no longer continue to hide as she so many times in the past resorted to. It is now or never for this young troll, as it is forced to face what every in its species must at least once in their lives. It is a matter that must be confronted, one that must be dealt with. Her time has come to choose, to choose that which she truly wishes for.
Of course she knows that she could also turn around, that she could reveal her back to the significant scene. She could simply shake her head with indecision heavy in her mind, saying a silent 'no' to everything she now struggles with. If she decides on it, then she could decline all four cards, and pretend as if she had never in her life seen any of them. She could, but would she?
No, this girl those not want that, this girl does not want to continue with this cowardice. She hopes to be strong in these times, to take on the full duty of her heart and the secrets that may lie buried inside of it. She is aware that this is her last chance, a chance that she cannot allow pass her by. She will not stand here while she watches her only opportunity slip through her fingers as if she could do absolutely nothing to stop it. She will fight, she will fight as hard as she can, for these feelings that she has kept secret from who most should know of them.
But then she recalls that she is also afraid, afraid that she could commit a mistake. Were she to select the incorrect token, were she to take in her hands the wrong message, she did not want to think about the consequences that would follow it. There is a great risk for her when she does this you see, one that she must run even against such tight odds. A young troll's emotions are fragile after all, and could quite easily shatter. The fact that these feelings are her first, yet sincere and innocently true, only makes matters more complicated. She must be accurate when she does it, for the sake of his understanding, and the answer she may receive from him.
They say that trolls are driven by hate and pity, and, although they may be right, it doesn't mean that it's all they are capable of. If well this was all born of some form of spite and friendly rivalry, it has become what few of her species would admit to. It has become what they call 'love', and there is no way left around it.
Terezi Pyrope holds what feels like a heartbeat of hesitation (although it could have been anything from a second to several hours), and raises her right hand to the perfect arrangement. Her arm begins to waver as it hovers only inches above the table and all its content, but she does not let it discourage her: She had made her final decision. She must do it, because more than she could ever fully comprehend depends solely on its success.
Despite the fact that it will not make much difference (and the bit of irony that is beard by it), Terezi shuts her eyes with a newly trembling body.
It is too late for her to go back now, as no quantity of regret or negative thought will save her from taking hold of the symbolic card: Her fate has been set.
Gray finger tips touch a thin paper surface cautiously, and soon she's found herself embracing it completely. Which one it is that she has picked however, that is yet to be seen.
Quickly, before worry and doubt has a chance to cloud your mind, give it to him. Give it to him so that he can see, so that he may tell you what he discovers on it.
So that he knows how you honestly feel about him. You want your answer to them as well, after all.
She can only pray that he will take it (although to whom she is praying exactly is beyond her), and that it may by some miracle be the one she has always wanted it to be, the feeling she has always dreamed to share with him.
Terezi whirls around with an exhilarated pulse, a sense of urgency pushing her forward as she extends her hand and the mystery card to the troll she knows will be standing there. She doesn't even attempt to smell or taste out the content of it herself as she usually would have when confronted with something new, all hopes pinned on him and him alone to give her the news.
It doesn't take an instant for it to be swiped from her possession, the unexpectedly fast motion causing her to flinch as she tries not to let it show.
"What do you see?" Terezi asks, her voice sounding out with more strength than she had imagined it would be capable of under its current predicament. Her eyelids also flutter open, realization hitting her with how foolishly childish closing them had been to begin with.
A hand pats her horned head, and the teal-blooded troll immediately recognizes it as Karkat's. She can see him clearly now, picturing him in her head with next to no difficulty. She knows him well, after all.
Terezi is not sure if she should take his gesture as reassuring or not however, the interpretation of it coming out as pretty much duplicate to her.
Is he accepting or declining what she has gifted him? And what is it that he's replying to anyway?
"What do you see?" She repeats, unable to contain her rapidly escalating anxiousness. She needs to know what he's seeing, she needs to know now.
Karkat ruffles her messy black hair, a smile that she is yet to notice tugging at his equally dark lips. His intention is not to make her wait any longer, so he parts them to give this child his answer at last:
"Ace of hearts, it's an ace of hearts."