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The first time Jean found a poem falling out of her newly borrowed library book, she was intrigued. It was short and sweet, but there was no telling who had put it between the pages of this novel, considering that this one in particular was quite a popular choice of reading material and Jean had to ask the librarian to put it aside for her after coming in several times without any luck.
‘Ask’ was perhaps even too strong a word, Lisa had simply snuck up on her when she was browsing through the shelves to inquire if she was looking for anything in particular, and Jean had admitted that the novel she wanted to read was simply not available even after the fifth time she came in to check in the past two months.
She had seen it there before, but had already decided on reading another one first. When she had returned, it was gone. The book had no doubt been checked out numerous times before she got her hands on it, unless it was one of those that someone failed to return on time. However, Grand Master Varka had not sent her to deal with a certain witch electrocuting innocent townspeople recently, so Jean assumed that was not the case.
The handwriting of the note was unfamiliar and she had no real way of solving this mystery apart from asking Lisa for a list of patrons who borrowed the book before her and asking every single person on that list herself.
Though the poem was beautiful and she would have loved to read more, she was not going to go through all that trouble just for a piece of paper and some pretty words.
She could already imagine how much the older woman would tease her if she were to tell her of this idea. She barely had enough time to read all the books she wanted in the first place, let alone to run through the streets of Mondstadt just to knock on people’s doors with no idea who she was even looking for.
So Jean kept the poem and returned the book the next day without mentioning a word about it when Lisa thoughtfully inquired how she liked the book and what she thought about it with a kind smile on her face and a gentle hand on her forearm.
Somehow, despite her plans for the day and without her even realising what was happening, Lisa had managed to lead her over to her desk, persuaded her to sit down on her chair and seated herself on the wooden surface in front of her, all the while humming and nodding encouragingly to keep her talking.
It was not hard for Jean to ramble about a book she enjoyed and lose track of time around her, especially with how interested Lisa always seemed to be to hear her opinions and theories.
Sometimes hours would pass and Jean still found herself in the library, enthusiastically theorising about future volumes of the latest book she read with a cup of tea in her hand and Lisa across from her.
___________
The second time she found a poem inside a book, tucked between the cover and the very first page, Jean was surprised. She had not expected to see another one of those in the same beautiful handwriting ever again.
It was longer this time, well worded and heart warming. Seemingly an anonymous love confession the writer had written about their dearest friend whom they weren’t entirely certain would reciprocate their growing feelings.
Jean could almost pretend she was a character out of one of her novels, receiving love letters and poetry from a secret admirer. A friendship started through the exchanging of letters and slowly but surely blossoming into more. Until one day, the love interest’s true identity is revealed and the main character realises that the person she was pining for has been right in front of her the whole time and-
It was just a poem. And it wasn’t even for her.
Jean fought back her blush and pushed her romantic ideas to the back of her mind. Though, she still kept the piece of paper and safety tucked it within the top drawer of her nightstand to reread whenever she felt lonely.
___________
The third time, Jean was starting to think that this was not a coincidence. These poems consistently showed up in novels she borrowed. Either someone hid one of these in every book inside the library or Jean was miraculously good at picking out just the ones that contained them.
Though, she had borrowed a small number of other books that where quite devoid of poems, Jean hadn’t even expected to see a second one, much less a third. It was also a little suspicious that no one else had taken them out to keep them before her.
Perhaps she should leave them too? Were they left there for someone else to find? Suddenly Jean felt a little guilty for keeping them so shamelessly, but they were not addressed to anyone in particular and the more she read, the more it seemed that the writer might not have intended for their beloved friend to lay eyes on these poems at all.
There was a sad quality to them, a deep, hidden longing and fear of losing even just the faintest bit of affection that the person they were yearning for held for them in light of their friendship.
Jean was eager to learn if they ever confessed their feelings and braved the possible loss of their friendship and rejection that they clearly feared. Her heart ached for the lonely soul who needed to vent their feelings in the way of writing poetry because they were so afraid of losing someone they held so close to their heart if they ever spoke them out loud.
She hoped those two, whoever they were, would overcome this hurdle and find their way together. Though she might not hear the end, the uncertainty was better than an abrupt and soul crushing end to this little story.
___________
The fourth time it happened, Jean’s mind was reeling over the possibility that someone was leaving these for her on purpose. But that would be delusional, wouldn’t it? Surely not.
This book had been a recommendation from the librarian herself, given to her to read right after Lisa had convinced her to sit down on one of the library’s couches in a quiet, dimly lit corner and have a cup of calming tea with her because she apparently looked stressed. She was, of course, but she had assumed that she had hidden it a little better.
Grand Master Varka had been absent a lot lately, giving her barely any free time to pursue her own interests and hobbies, now having to focus on completing her own work as well as his on top of it, because he was simply not doing any of his paperwork and it was somehow her who was receiving complaints and had to come up for his shortcomings with overtime in his stead.
The times Lisa invited her for tea were a blessing in disguise. The witch always knew how to reel her in, cleverly requesting aid with something or the other, only for Jean to realise there was nothing for her to do that Lisa could not have done herself.
On these occasions, she always somehow found herself goaded into a comfortable chair and handed a cup of tea in just the way she liked to drink it on the few occasions she took tea over coffee.
Jean appreciated Lisa a lot, would even call her a friend over using the perhaps more appropriate word ‘colleague’ for her. Here, on the comfortable couch inside the library, head leaning against Lisa’s shoulder as she dozed off, resting for the first time in days, Jean felt at peace.
___________
It was only when Grand Master Varka asked her to read over some reports for him and she came across the budget report for the library, that Jean realised the handwriting on it was identical to the one from the poems she kept finding in her books.
Lisa Minci was the one writing and leaving those beautiful, heart wrenching little poems inside of those books.
All at once, Jean became startlingly aware that every single book that contained a poem so far had either been a personal recommendation directly from Lisa or a book she asked her for because she could not find it in the shelves when she was looking for it.
___________
The fifth time she found a poem, Jean looked at it with different eyes. Now that she knew that Lisa was the one writing them, and for her of all people, Jean was not sure what she should do.
She had no idea that Lisa felt so deeply about her, but after going back to carefully read through each of them again, Jean realised that perhaps she felt similarly all along. Doing nothing would only needlessly cause Lisa pain and heartache and that in turn made Jean feel sick to her stomach.
Taking out a pen and paper, Jean did her best to compose a poem of her own. She was no poet, but she was confident that with her years of reading romance novels, she would do fine. It was the effort that counted anyway, as long as Lisa knew that she was loved and cherished, that was enough.
When she was finished, Jean snuck into the library and left it on her desk when she knew the brunette would be busy with something else. Laying it on top of the returned book, Jean hastily retreated before Lisa decided to step out of the restricted section earlier than planned and caught her red handed.
___________
The next note Jean found was not as vague as the rest, it was addressed to “My dearest Jean,” and signed “with love, Lisa”.
Jean’s heart fluttered inside her chest before she even read the contents. Giddily, she took the letter in her hand, put the book down and quickly let her eyes skim over the words, before reading over it again, more carefully this time.
A large grin on her face at the sweet words, Jean decided to pen a letter of her own, just as sweet and romantic as the one she received. It had taken her quite a while and several tries before she was finally happy with the end result, but it was worth it. Lisa deserved only the best.
___________
Not long after their latest exchange of letters, the Windblume festival had arrived and Jean wanted to give Lisa something special. She knew what the older woman liked and she already had a few ideas, but she still wasn’t quite sure about any of it, or well, more like she couldn’t decide on just one of her ideas. It was a special occasion, not just because it was the festival of gratitude and love, but also because Jean was going to ask her out.
They has gone out together before, as friends and colleagues, before the poems and even only just before Jean finally realised that they were from Lisa. They would often have breakfast or lunch together at the Good Hunter, but she had never thought anything more of it. Until now.
They hadn’t discussed their feelings in person yet, as Jean hardly even had the time to visit the library with the festival she had to organise almost all on her own. “It will be good practice.” The Grand Master had said, before leaving her alone with it, with no idea what to do, but she had managed just fine. She even found a few moments toward the end to think about what she might want to do for Lisa on this occasion.
She had already picked some flowers, cecilias, Lisa’s favourite. She had gone to Starsnatch Cliff bright and early and picked the most beautiful bouquet, even added a few other flowers to it and tied a bow around it for decoration.
She also had a box of chocolates, neatly wrapped up with another little bow. And a poem, deeply personal and far too vulnerable for her liking, but if it was Lisa who received it, Jean found she did not mind baring her soul. Lisa had done the same after all, it was only fair that she shared more of her own feelings in turn.
Unable to decide, she had also planned a picnic that she knew Lisa would easily be persuaded to take with her, or maybe a romantic dinner at a restaurant? Or a candlelight dinner at her house, with ..a homemade pizza?
And she also had a book she decided against because she felt silly giving a book to a librarian. Fine, she had not completely decided against it yet, Lisa did love books after all. Perhaps she should simply give all of those things to Lisa without needing to decide. She did have them and Lisa would appreciate them. But that would make her look overeager.. or wouldn’t it?
They were already nearing the end of the festival and Jean knew she had to overcome her indecisiveness sooner rather than later, lest Lisa would think she simply forgot to give her anything, or worse, never planned to in the first place.
___________
Bouquet and picnic basket in hand, her other gifts inside it with the food, Jean knocked on Lisa’s front door. It was a Saturday and she was finally free for an entire day.
She bounced on the balls of her feet until Lisa opened the door, standing before her in an apron and with light purple icing smeared across her cheek. Jean was endeared by the uncharacteristically domestic look on her, paired with the surprised wonder on her face when she laid eyes on the flowers.
“Jean..”
“Hi.” She had prepared a speech, carefully chosen every word she was going to say, but what came out instead was just ‘hi’. Humiliated, Jean closed her eyes, pursed her lips and looked down in embarrassment.
She felt like crystalflies were fluttering inside her chest when Lisa giggled, using her fingers to tilt her face up by her chin and smiling fondly at her.
Jean swallowed. “You have a little… ” She pointed at her own cheek and cleared her throat, face growing warm at the feeling of Lisa’s hand against her chin and jaw.
Worse yet, when Lisa wiped at the wrong cheek, Jean had impulsively reached out to swipe her thumb over the purple smudge and then took it into her mouth to lick it off.
“Hmm, is that valberry?” Jean hummed absently, wondering about the taste. She hadn’t thought about what she was doing until she refocused her attention back to the woman in front of her and found Lisa staring at her with slightly startled green eyes and a light blush dusting her cheeks.
Jean’s eyes widened in horror. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t-”
Lisa cut her off with a kiss, sweet and soft and just a little timid. She pulled away before Jean even had the time to process what had happened and think about kissing back.
A well manicured hand rested against her neck and another lightly held onto her arm. Hear face was still a little too close to Jean’s own after pulling away from their kiss and so she took the opportunity to lean in for another.
She closed her eyes and gently brushed her chapped lips against Lisa’s much softer ones, delighting in the pleased hum Lisa let out at the action.
Once they parted, Lisa longingly gazed at her lips with lidded eyes for a long moment before directing her darkened eyes back to Jean’s and smiling at her in pure bliss.
“Come inside, dear. I have something for you.”
Jean happily let Lisa pull her across the threshold, along the hallway and into her kitchen, gasping when she saw what Lisa meant.
“Happy birthday, Jeanie.”
“How did you..?” Jean blinked in surprise, taking in the two wrapped presents and the cake with purple icing on the table.
“I have my ways.” Lisa spoke mysteriously, green eyes twinkling in amusement. “Would you like some now, or do you think we should wait until after the picnic you seem to have planned for us?”
Biting her lip at the tempting offer, Jean slowly shook her head. “We should wait, it seems like a shame to cut it open right after you finished it.. though I must say, it looks absolutely wonderful.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Lisa grinned back at her, taking off her apron and then swiftly turning around to take an empty vase from a cupboard to fill it with water before taking the bouquet out of Jean’s grasp.
“Here, let me take those from you.” Putting them in the vase, Lisa admired the assortment of flowers for a moment. “They’re beautiful. Did you pick them yourself?”
“I did. I had some free time this morning, so I decided to go for a little hike into the mountains.” Jean shrugged nonchalantly before bowing lightly and holding her hand out in a charming gesture. “My lady?”
Curiously, Lisa placed her own inside her grasp, gazing at her in expectation.
“Would you like to go on a date with me?”
“Gladly. What did you have in mind?” Lisa grinned at her indulgently. They both knew that the picnic was supposed to be the date, but it couldn’t hurt to formally ask and make it clear that it was indeed a date of the romantic sort, rather than one of their previous, friendly outings.
“A picnic under the tree at Windrise. And then maybe a little walk? Before we come back to try your beautiful cake of course.”