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himenna · 15 days

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i reread the chapters of tq , i like reader a lot. reader-centric. cuphead’s here too, can be interpreted as platonic or romantic.

“do it again.”

those same three words ran through her head each time she shot an arrow and missed yet again. “do it again.” her uncle would tell her. “try again.” “one more time.” her patience was hanging on by a thread, how long would it take until she threw the bow and arrow to the ground and stomped on it until it shattered into pieces?

she raised the bow, getting into the proper position before exhaling through her nose. ready, aim, fire.

the arrow flew, hitting the tree across from her and staying there. if only i could do that when he was around. she thought.

she felt awful ever since she had that panic attack on the course because she saw pib — or, what she thought was pib. was she really there? not to mention the beatdown from stinks, how was she supposed to make a name for herself here when she’s practically the laughing stock of the town?

“get your head out of the gutter.” her mind demanded. she pondered going over to get the arrow, just to use it again.

she decided not to. she’d retrieve it once she finished.

placing another arrow onto the bow, she raised her arms, aiming to the area just below where the other arrow stayed. ready, aim—

“y/n?”

she faltered, releasing the string and looking behind her.

“cuphead,” she breathed.

“what’re you doin’ out here so late?” he asked, hands in his pockets as he ventured over to where she stood — stepping over a few logs. “ya’ had panchito worried sick.”

guilt swelled in her gut. “practicing.” she replied gesturing to the bow and arrow with her free hand. “at two in the mornin’?”

she blinked. “i came out here earlier. time must’ve passed by.” she crouched down to pick up the arrow she failed to shoot, turning to face the cup fully. “what are you doing out here?” she questioned.

cuphead craned his neck. “what am i supposed to do when you go missin’ in the middle of the night? i came lookin’ for ya’.”

she turned her back, once again getting into the proper stance to shoot the arrow. “tell everyone i’m fine. tell panchito i apologize for worrying him.”

“are you crazy?” he stepped closer. “at least let me watch you.”

“i’d prefer if you didn’t,” she snapped back. “i don’t need any distractions. i want to be at least decent if i plan on showing my face at the range again.”

she felt hands on her shoulders, lowering her weapon as cuphead turned her back to face him. “you’re already decent. more than decent, even.”

she scoffed. “i’m serious, cuphead. i don’t need your flirtatious flattery right now.” removing his hands, cuphead stepped back. “i’m bein’ serious, too. even if you don’t think you’re good enough, if others don’t think you’ve got what it takes, i do.”

she blinked, looking up at him. “you’re just saying that.” had he ever been this sincere with her before? was he being truthful? she could never tell — and he probably wouldn’t give her a direct answer.

“why would i just say that? i mean it. your head’s full of air sometimes, but you’ve managed to stay alive this long. i wouldn’t say this without meanin’ it, y/n.”

tears welled in her eyes. maybe he did mean it.

“thanks.” she muttered. he grinned.

“well, come back soon. i’ll tell ‘em what ya’ wanted me to say. have fun.” she nodded, watching him as he walked farther and farther away from her, going back the way he came.

he meant it. she decided. every word.

#cuphead

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