Latest Posts by tingerines - Page 2

“Y/n?”

The seemingly empty classroom is briefly illuminated followed by the sharp, loud crack of thunder. The shockwaves cause the floor beneath Jamil’s feet to shudder, and he hears the faint sound of a whimper coming from the farthest corner of the room.

“Y/n,” Jamil repeats before making his way to the small space beside a long row of lockers at the back of the classroom.

There, he found you curled into yourself with your hands pressed firmly against your ears and your eyes tightly shut.

He was only gone for a second to retrieve the cleaning supplies from the janitor’s closet. But he’d underestimated how bad the thunderstorm had been, because a particular boom of thunder caused the lights in the nearly vacant school to shut off without warning.

It’s also just his luck that you have a fear of both the dark and thunderstorms. He’s not sure why he’d suddenly felt guilty for leaving you by yourself, but his feet didn’t hesitate to turn on their heels and run back to the classroom where you awaited.

He stands there, waiting patiently for a few minutes to see if you’d calm down on your own.

It becomes quite apparent that the answer is no.

“I’m coming down,” Jamil sighs before sliding his back down the wall until he’s seated in a similar position as you.

You still haven’t moved an inch, but he can tell that your body is a lot less tense than before. But how can he comfort you?

A sudden thought pops into his head: a scene from a romance anime that Kalim had forced him to watch with him this summer. Would it work?

He decides to give it a shot.

Jamil shrugs his school blazer off and drapes it over your heads. The heavy material turns everything in your line of vision black, and you finally work up the courage to lift your head properly.

You don’t realize how close your faces are until you feel Jamil’s warm breath fanning across your cheeks.

“W—what are you doing?” you manage to squeak out, trying to scoot away despite your back being pressed against the lockers already.

“I’m distracting you,” Jamil answers as if it should have been the most obvious thing. “Is it working?”

“Um… kind of?” you can’t say that the close proximity isn’t making you feel like a cage of butterflies have been released in your stomach.

A few moments of silence pass before another boom of thunder strikes, causing the goosebumps on your arms to rise and you instinctively reach out to grasp Jamil’s arms. You’re surprised that he doesn’t move away immediately.

“I want to try something,” Jamil declares.

“Right now?” you ask in disbelief. “What is it?”

You feel his arms shifting in your grasp before his cold hands are cupping your cheeks, and you hold your breath as you wait for his next move.

Without any hesitation, Jamil leans forward and presses his soft lips against yours.

To say that you’re surprised is an understatement, but you respond to his touch anyways. Your lips move against one another, hesitantly at first, before Jamil makes the first move to deepen it.

You don’t realize just how fast your heart is racing until you finally break apart.

“Um…” you gasp, your fingertips running across your lips. “What was that?”

In that moment, Jamil’s glad that the darkness provided by his blazer is hiding how deep red his ears have turned. He clears his throat before simply answering, “a distraction.”

Pairing: Epel x GN!Reader Genre: Fluff

In this world, soulmates do exist.

No one knows when they will meet theirs or if they ever will, but chances of the latter is very unlikely.

See, the universe has a funny way of bringing two destined souls together; in this case, soulmates are brought together through music.

As a result, it isn’t strange for one, or two, or even a dozen people to suddenly start singing in the middle of the street. The more fortunate members of society are able to contain this urge, and you’re fortunately one of them.

But balance is a must.

So, while most soulmates will start singing the same song no matter where or how far apart they are, you have to deal with a song playing on repeat in your head for an undisclosed amount of time. It’s similar to how people say they have a catchy song stuck in their head, but you hear your soulmate’s voice singing to you instead.

Luck is truly on your side though, because you think that your soulmate has one of the loveliest voices that you’ve ever heard.

Or do you only think that because it’s your soulmate?

You wonder what they must be like. Definitely an interesting person based only on their music taste — which is completely random. They could be singing a tune that probably should belong in an opera and suddenly change to a song about baking a cake the next.

You never knew what to expect from them, least of all silence.

But that’s exactly what you got today.

If this wasn’t something out of the ordinary, you wouldn’t have been so worried. But you couldn’t help but think of all the things that could be wrong.

It’s for this reason that you’ve dragged your friends out to the nearest tea shop: to worry incessantly about someone you haven’t even met yet.

“No, I’m telling you that they have never not sung, Ace,” you groan while rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands. “What if they tripped on their way to work and cracked multiple teeth, or something?”

Ace looks up at you with utter unamusement on his face as he takes another sip of his bubble tea, “that’s pretty dramatic, y/n. Maybe they’re just busy.”

“I mean, isn’t it nice to have some peace and quiet? They’ll probably go back to singing by tonight,” Jack offers before you could say anything else. “It could be worse.”

“How’s that?” you sigh before occupying yourself by taking small sips of your matcha latte.

“Our friend from college has never heard his soulmate’s voice — well, not since he was little.”

“Are you serious?” you raise an eyebrow, feeling a bit skeptical about this information.

But you weren’t one to talk; you’d always opted to wait until the late hours of the night to sing. A small part of you reasoned that you only did so to not disturb your soulmate throughout the day. But the bigger part of you knows that you’re just afraid to embarrass yourself.

“Yeah, you can ask him yourself,” Jack nods before nudging his chin towards the space behind you.

“What?”

You turn around to see a young man at the cash register paying for his drink. You can only make out the top half of his face due to his face mask, but you can already tell that he’s attractive — with wavy lavender locks that perfectly frames his face and double-lidded eyes that curve slightly at the ends, as if he has a natural wing.

You’re not sure why you can’t take your eyes off of him. You’ve seen plenty of attractive men in your life, yet…

Jack clears his throat at the same time Ace pokes at your forearm, forcing you to divert your attention back to the two.

“What?” you ask again, your eyes shifting between your friends who keep exchanging knowing looks with one-another. “Why do you look like that?”

The pair don’t answer you and instead wave over the handsome stranger that’s caught your attention. He immediately makes his way over to your table and places his hands on the chair right next to yours.

“May I sit here?” he asks, his eyes curving into crescent moons as he smiles — though it’s not visible to anyone.

You look up and accidentally make eye contact with him; and that alone is enough to make a comforting warmth spread from your heart to the rest of your body.

Both of your eyes widen in surprise, though you don’t realize that the stranger is experiencing the same exact warm comfort as you.

But why?

Jack and Ace exchange another set of knowing looks before Ace pats the table loud enough to snap you both out of your trances.

“Oh, um… y—yeah, go ahead,” you manage to stammer out, your hands nervously tucking loose strands of hair behind your ears as you turn to sit upright again.

What is wrong with you all of the sudden?

“Thank you,” the man clears his throat and moves to situate himself onto the empty seat before extending a hand out towards you, “I’m Epel, by the way.”

“O—oh,” you hesitantly reach out to wrap your fingers around Epel’s hand in a handshake, your skin immediately tingles upon contact. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m y/n.”

“‘Y/n’? That’s very pretty,” Epel says as his eyes curve into crescent moons once more.

“Th—thank you,” you bow your head in hopes that the shadows will conceal the blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Epel, you have a pretty name too,” Ace comments in a playful tone as he pats the said man’s cheeks.

You shoot a glare at your friend, mentally cursing him for teasing you at such a time, but he only smiles innocently at you in response.

“Call me ‘pretty’ again and you’ll never see the daylight again,” Epel chuckles. “How are y’all?”

“We’re good. What’s with the mask?” Jack gestures towards Epel’s face, and he assumes that he must mean the face mask.

“I caught a cold — just my luck,” Epel sighs.

“Is Vil going to cut you some slack today then?”

Epel shakes his head, “nah… I just won’t be able to sing as much as I usually do. Which is why I’m saving my voice as much as I can.”

“What if they’re sick?!” you suddenly exclaim, prompting Epel to turn towards you with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“They’re talking about their soulmate again,” Ace whines before planting his face onto Jack’s shoulder.

“Oh? Why, what’s up? Did you finally meet them?”

“No…” you shake your head before giving your friends an apologetic look, “they’ve just stopped singing — and they always sing. So maybe they’re sick!”

“Sounds like me,” Epel says jokingly with a grin, but his laugh is cut short by the alarmed look on your face. “I—I’m kidding. I just meant that I sing all the time too for—well, really because Housewarden Vil asks me to.”

Watching the awkward exchange prompts Ace to hunch over and start coughing, but you can hear his hidden “smooth” in between the sharp sounds. You shoot your friend a glare before placing a hand on top of Epel’s — and it’s just a gesture of reassurance.

At least that’s what you try convincing yourself of.

“So,” you start, hoping to change the conversation’s topic for everyone’s sake, “is there any particular reason why you’re being made to focus on your singing skills?”

“Oh!” you can see the glimmers of happiness in Epel’s eyes as he begins to talk animatedly about his hobby. “It’s ‘cause of my family’s apple farm. Which, hear me out, ‘cause I know you’re prolly thinkin’ ‘how is that even related’? But…”

Then Epel begins to explain how his family business experienced a boom in business after this year’s SDC, and he saw this as motivation to work on strengthening his charms. After all, Harveston isn’t a well-known part of Twisted Wonderland; and if he works hard enough, he could help not only his family, but the other elders in the village as well.

“Then Vil had this great idea that we should start an NRC radio show. I like to call it the Epel Farm but Vil was not a fan of that. And, well— it’s more of a ‘daily podcast’ than it is a radio show. I do a lot of different things depending on my mood; sometimes I’ll give advice to my listeners or just play music — and sing, of course. I surprisingly like it a lot.”

“You seem to be very passionate about your family and apples. It’s wonderful that you’ve got such a strong source of motivation,” you can only offer a sheepish smile as your head is still spinning from the overload of information Epel just spilled onto you. “I haven’t gotten the chance to tune in yet, but your radio show sounds great.”

And the two of you continue your conversation just like that, completely forgetting that you have other friends sitting right across the table. Too enamored with one-another to even notice their amused stares.

Truth be told, Ace and Jack had a sneaking suspicion that they knew who your soulmate was for a while now. Epel’s too.

At first, it seemed like a coincidence. You’d whine about the fact that you couldn’t focus well when your soulmate keeps singing a song about washing the dishes. Then that same night, they would hear Epel singing a similar song in a pre-recording of Epel Farm.

When asked, Epel had told them that he rarely hears his soulmate’s voice unless he stayed up late enough. He’d wake up with swollen eyes the morning after and was surely scolded by Vil, but he always thought that it was worth it.

They connected the distant grey dots when you told them you try not to sing until nightfall in fear of disturbing your soulmate’s day.

The coincidences continued to pile on from there, and Ace finally convinced Epel to meet you for confirmation.

Except he left out the part where you were going to be here today.

But Epel is smart and he catches on very quickly. It also helps that your friends were not very subtle with the way they were gawking at you two as you conversed.

You must be someone special. He could tell from the moment you made eye contact earlier.

Whereas your parents never told you the feeling of meeting your soulmate — not to mention your friends haven’t experienced such things either — Epel was more blessed.

He’s been excited to meet you since the moment his parents recounted the day that they met. The feeling of comfort and warmth, like basking under the hot summer sun or wrapping yourself up in your favorite blanket on a snowy day.

The same exact feeling he had when he first saw you.

But he’s not one to jump to conclusions. He needed solid evidence, and there’s only one way he knows how to collect it. Subtly.

“Do you want to come back to Pomefiore with me then? I’m about to head down, and it’ll give you a chance to finally listen in,” Epel offers, holding his breath as he waits for your answer.

You hum in thought, glancing over at your friends for their confirmation before nodding, “sure, I would love to.”

“Perfect, I’ll go grab my drink and we can go.”

Underneath the face mask, Epel is absolutely beaming in delight but he tries his best not to jump for joy right away. Instead, he counts to ten in his head to calm his nerves before he gets up from his seat, “oh— Ace and Jack, you guys can come too. Just don’t break anything this time.”

“Wh— it was totally Jack’s fault for scaring me!” Ace tries to defend himself but the shorter man is already out of earshot. He sighs, lips jutting out into a pout as he crosses his arms and slumps back down his seat.

“Your soulmate sucks, y/n,” Ace grumbles due to his hurt pride, the weight of his words not registering until he notices the way you stare at him with raised eyebrows.

“Who’s my soulmate?” you snort and lean forward to gently smack Ace’s hand. “Don’t joke around like that!”

“S—sorry,” Ace scratches the back of his head, the toothy smile he offers you filled with awkwardness.

Were you always this naive, or pretending to ignore the fact that he just slipped up?

His eyes shift up to look at something behind you and he breathes a sigh of relief before jumping out of his seat, “Epel! Great! Let’s get going before you’re late!”

“Uh— Okay, okay,” Epel holds his hands up in defeat as he allows Ace to usher him out of the tea shop.

You and Jack follow not too far behind, with you clinging onto your friend’s arm for warmth and protection against the chilly autumn breeze.

Thankfully — and surprisingly — the walk back to the Pomefiore dorm was only about one mile, tops. It was still a half an hour walk, but you can’t complain in the presence of good company. Plus, it probably would be a few days’ walk if you didn’t have a mirror to transport you to anywhere you want to go.

“Here we are,” Epel announces, his voice quieter and a softer tone than it had been at the tea shop. He stops walking right outside a door to a room marked with a medium-sized apple sign. “Please come in.”

Epel hurries to hold the door open for you, and you can’t hold back the giggle that bubbles up your throat as you walk past him.

How adorable, you think to yourself.

You absolutely adored the way that he so enthusiastically talked about his radio show earlier, and you can see now that he truly treats this place like his second home.

True to its name, the interior of the room is decorated with shades of green and various apple drawings randomly placed on the wall. Just like an apple orchard.

The environment is bright and warm, and if Epel was a room this is what you imagine he would look like. Is that strange?

“Okay, follow me. You guys can sit right outside of the broadcasting booth, and we’ll be able to see each other,” Epel gestures for your trio to follow him deeper into the room.

His face mask is pulled down now, exposing the lower half of his face, and you can’t help but to steal glances at him every few seconds. You had the gut feeling that he would be attractive, but nothing could prepare you for how pretty the man truly was.

Lost in thought — well, more like Epel’s face — you don’t notice that your friends have stopped walking and you face plant directly into Jack’s shoulder, causing you to stumble back ungracefully.

“Are you okay?” he looks back in concern.

“Uh, yes,” you affirm, a hand rubbing at your sore forehead.

“Be careful,” Epel comments before reaching out and taking a hold of your hand. He gently pries it off your forehead and leans forward to study the blanket of red on your skin. “It doesn’t look bad, but if it still hurts and you want to ice it, please let me know.”

“Okay, t—thank you,” you whisper.

From the close proximity, you have the opportunity to see his features more clearly — from his piercing light blue orbs to his adorable plump cheeks down to his rosy lips.

You’re not sure why you couldn’t stop staring at him, or why the same warmth as before is spreading through your body again. But the feeling is very much welcomed.

Unbeknownst to you, Epel feels the same way.

The sound of someone clearing their throat pops the momentary bubble you were encased in, causing the two of you to take a step away from one-another.

“Epel. We need to go check the sounds now,” a very familiar man stands off to the side, his face seeming as if he’d showed up someplace he wasn’t supposed to.

“Thank you, Housewarden Vil. I’ll be right there.”

“Alright. And Jack. Ace. Y/n. It’s a pleasure to see you all again,” Vil greets you all politely before he turns on his heels and hurries back inside what you presume is the broadcasting booth.

“Have a seat. You should be able to hear the broadcast through the speaker here,” Epel gestures towards a seemingly misplaced large speaker just outside of the broadcasting booth. When he turns back to you, he flashes a bright smile that has your heart suddenly skipping a beat. “I hope you’ll like it.”

With that, you both part ways. Epel walks to the broadcast booth while you walk over to where your friends have retreated minutes earlier.

“I feel strange,” you confess after situating yourself in a seat facing the glass door to the booth.

Jack and Ace exchange looks for what seems like the hundredth time that day before Jack says, “a good strange? Or did you already catch Epel’s cold?”

“I don’t know, but… I feel so warm and fuzzy. So I guess that’s good? I—” your sentence is cut off by a familiar voice in your head, and you let out a short sound of relief.

Your friends give you looks of confusion mixed with worry, mostly because your mood suddenly changed and they can’t tell if you’ve suddenly lost your mind. But you shake your head and whisper, “my soulmate is singing again!”

Jack eyes flicker briefly towards Epel, who seems to be speaking into a mic, before coming back to you, “what’s he singing?”

“Actually, it’s not a made-up song for chores this time,” you hum along to the lyrics in your head, your brain working to figure out what song is playing before it clicks. “Ah! It’s ‘Piece of My World’.”

Jack nods as he hops off his seat and makes his way to the speaker Epel pointed out earlier. His fingers fumble with the controls before you suddenly hear the same song blasting through them as the one in your head.

“How?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you stare at the speaker. “That’s such a weird coincidence.”

Surely this was just a coincidence, right? But the more you listen, the farther away the voice in your head gets, the voice coming from the speaker replacing it instead.

The same voice that you’ve heard every day for as long as you can remember.

Your soulmate’s voice.

You stand up, hesitantly inching closer to the speaker, where Jack is giving you an apologetic look. How long had he known?

A million thoughts were running through your mind per second, faster than your heart is racing at the moment.

But when you’re a few feet away from the glass door, it suddenly makes sense to you. The way you felt so comfortable around him, how easily attracted you were to him, and why your friends had insisted you meet him all those times before.

Somehow they always knew, but now you know too.

Feeling eyes on him, Epel looks towards the door and makes eye contact with you. His mouth falls open to a small “o” when he sees the look of utter astonishment on your face.

Did you figure it out? Was he right?

Your lips moved, though he couldn’t hear what you were saying through the soundproof walls. That didn’t matter, however, because suddenly a voice greets his mind. One that he hasn’t heard sing to him when the sun is still up in years.

“You’re my soulmate.”

hello!! i just want to let you know in your recent azul fic there's a word "girlfriend" near the end of the fic! ty!

Oh, no, I’m so sorry. Thank you for letting me know, I’ve changed it now!

Pairing: Azul x GN!Reader Genre: Fluff A/N: The reader in this is not Yuu. I went way too ham at 2 A.M. and ended up writing 11.6k words, so enjoy my descend into fluffy madness lmao.

Everyday life as a librarian is as mundane as you can get within the walls of Night Raven College. With the exceptions of the occasional ruckus caused by groups of college students — mainly Floyd — or Crowley coming to offer yet another deal that you can’t seem to refuse, the library serves as a quiet haven for those who can’t find it elsewhere; you included.

At first you weren’t sure what you wanted to do here, or what you could do here. You’d spent the last couple of months just cramming as much History of Magic knowledge as you could into your brain, simply trying to make sense of the new world that you were in, without giving much thought to how you could fit in if you weren’t going home anytime soon. So, it comes to no surprise that once that was done and over with, you found yourself with way too much free time on your hands.

It’s when you’re in the midst of a particularly rowdy lunch, that your friend Epel mentions a new job opening at the library on-campus. He’d insisted that you apply, explaining that the library was in desperate need of someone that has competent knowledge of literature and you were perfect for the job.

You were hesitant at first, mostly because you were shy and quiet — especially in public settings — and that’s why you gave up trying to befriend more people here. But Epel reasoned it wouldn’t be too bad, or busy, at all because he would be helping you out. Plus, Vil told him that the practice would help him get used to speaking “properly”. So, you applied for the position.

Now you’ve found yourself working at the library for a little over half a year already, and Epel was right: working at the library wasn’t all that difficult. While he offers to deal with inquiring students all day — just to save you the anxiety of having to do so yourself — you’re left to acquire, classify, and catalog materials away from their prying eyes.

Today’s arrangement is no different.

You’ve just finished cataloging this week’s new batch of books, and after carefully stacking them onto your handy-dandy book cart, you head over to the elevator to the second floor. The doors slide apart with a quiet ding! to announce your arrival before you push the book cart to the first set of bookshelves labeled “Fiction: 001 - 200.09”, all the while nodding your head and mumbling polite greetings to the people you pass by.

Your hands busy themselves by putting the books into their respective spots, first alphabetically then by call numbers. You’re halfway through your stacks when someone gently taps on your shoulder, causing you to jump in surprise before you turn around to see Epel standing there.

“Uh… yes?” you ask, clearing your throat as you straighten up and fiddle with the hem of your sweater.

“Could you work the front today? I’m exhausted,” Epel runs a hand through his hair as he sighs in exasperation.

You squint your eyes at him and try to figure out if he’s simply trying to trick you into socializing, but the way his eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is clenched tells you otherwise. Rather reluctantly, you nod in agreement to his request, “I guess so. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just didn’t expect working at a library to be the same experience as working retail. Like, excuse me, we sent you the notification that your books were overdue. Don’t yell at me because you didn’t pay attention and now you have to pay the fees, sir,” Epel slams his hand down the top of a book as he emphasizes the last word, the loud sound making you jump.

Epel begins to shove books into the empty slots of the bookshelf, not truly caring if they belong there or not. You can’t help but wince as you watch him do so, the feeling you’re experiencing is like watching someone try to drink soup broth with a fork: it’s just not right.

“Okay, Epel, I’m heading to the front then.”

At this point, the man doesn’t even hear you anymore; too busy in his own thoughts cursing at the disrespect he’s been shown and taking out his frustrations on the bundle of papers in his hands. You turn on your heels before you can change your mind and tell Epel to get the heck away from your precious books and make your way back down to the checkout counter on the first floor.

It’s quiet for a Friday afternoon. Usually you’d expect a small crowd of students to trudge in, their backpacks heavy with textbooks and eye bags as dark as a cloudy sky. Sometimes you miss the days when you used to be like that too; even though it was difficult you made a lot of fond memories that made it all bearable.

You situate yourself on the worn-out leather office chair Epel usually occupies, the backrest creaking a bit too loudly for your liking when you lean against it.

Maybe you can strike up a deal with Crowley to get a new one later. No, scratch that idea — you never know what that man wants in return.

The computer in front of you is just starting to boot up when the entrance of the library swings open, causing your gaze to shift out of curiosity.

Your eyes land on the figure of an attractive young man dressed in the classic NRC school uniform, the purple ribbon secured to his left arm showcasing that he’s a part of the Octavinelle dorm. You can’t shake the feeling that you know this man from somewhere, but you also can’t quite put your finger on where.

Feeling eyes on him, the man turns his head towards you and gives you a polite smile when you make eye contact. You can feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment from being caught staring, and you avert your eyes almost immediately — opting to stare at the brightly lit computer screen instead.

“Excuse me,” the man calls out, and you think to yourself that his soft-spoken voice matches his angelic appearance very well.

“Yes?” you answer after a few moments of silence, reluctantly glancing up.

As the man approaches the checkout counter, you can’t help but to stare at him with slightly widened eyes and a thin-lipped smile. It must look like you’re in pain to him — in this case, your pain is just downright embarrassment — but you were always one to have your emotions and thoughts written all over your face, so you couldn’t hide it even if you’d wanted to.

“Is Epel out today?” the man asks as he rests his hands on the counter and his eyes scan the space behind you.

“‘Epel’?” you echo your friend’s name, your expression quickly changing into one of confusion. “No, he's here… why?”

“Oh, no reason. He’s just usually the one to be sitting here so I was just wondering,” the man chuckles while shaking his head, a finger pressed to the bridge of his glasses to keep them from moving.

“Okay…” your voice trails off as you weren’t sure what to say next.

Is it usual for Epel to make small talk with everyone? You have to commend him for being able to do that every day with who knows how many people when you can barely think of what to say to this one person. He must have sensed how uncomfortable you feel, because the man takes a step backwards towards the staircase with his thumb pointing over his shoulder.

“I'm guessing he’s upstairs, so I’ll go there,” he announces before giving you another smile, this one more unsettling than the last. “I’ll see you later. Have a great evening.”

You wave goodbye to the man and give him a small, less awkward smile back, watching as he turns and speed walks up the stairs as if someone is chasing him. The smile doesn’t leave your face even after he’s disappeared from your view.

“Of course he would see me later. He has to pass by the checkout counter to leave the library anyways,” you think as you focus your attention back to the computer screen.

On display is a website with the daily list of upcoming school events a.k.a. your number one resource of finding which areas of the school you should avoid like the plague. Your eyes spot a familiar name: Mostro Lounge, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Is there ever a time this place isn’t up to no good?” you wonder aloud to yourself as you click on the direct link provided to learn more about the newest event.

If you’re being completely honest, there’s no real reason you feel so negatively towards the Octavinelle restaurant. You’d merely heard rumors from Ace and Deuce when they practically bet their livelihoods to the housewarden for good exam scores, and you decided to avoid the place on the off chance that you get suckered into another bad deal.

You stare at the screen for a few seconds once the browser finally refreshes before rubbing your eyes with your knuckles.

“No way,” you lean closer to the screen while eyeing it in disbelief.

According to the webpage, the Mostro Lounge is holding a promotion for the next week and a percentage of the profits will be donated to the library. You scroll further down to see if there was any other information provided, stopping when a particular headshot catches your eye.

“No way!” you repeat louder this time, your mouth hanging open from the shock that hits you.

“‘No way’ what? Are you okay?” a familiar voice asks, causing your head to snap up.

You can only shake your head wordlessly as Epel approaches the checkout counter, empty book cart in hand. He pauses, an eyebrow raised as he questions you impatiently, “well, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“T— this… Epel, you—” you manage to stammer out incoherent words as you look back and forth between the screen and your friend, a finger pointed accusingly at him. “Have you made a deal with the Octavinelle housewarden?”

“Who, Azul?” Epel’s face is full of confusion when you mention the man’s name. “Why do you ask?”

You shoot up from your seat and turn the computer screen around, and Epel leans forward to look at whatever it is you keep aggressively tapping at. It’s only then that it crosses his mind that he hadn’t told you about the deal Crowley and Azul had made.

“Oh, right. So, uh… about that,” Epel starts off slowly, a hand rubbing the back of his neck while he tries to keep the guilt from showing on his face. Just like you, Epel has a hard time masking the emotion on his face. “Azul has apparently been complaining that there’s a lack of useful books here during one of the Housewarden Meetings; so the Headmage agreed to allow him to choose our next couple batches as long as he pitches in.”

“What in the Sevens is a ‘useful book’ in his standards?” your eyebrows furrow in frustration, side-eyeing the endless shelves of books you spend every day organizing.

“Books that will help him fulfill his end of his contracts, of course. Probably for potions like the one that he makes for Vil’s skincare,” Epel speaks matter-of-factly before he turns back to the book cart, humming a show tune while strolling away to the storage room behind you.

Leave it to Epel to be so nonchalant about anything and everything.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath to calm your heart that you didn’t realize was racing from adrenaline, your body slowly sinking back down onto the office chair with a short creak.

Meanwhile Azul is on the second floor, leaning against the wooden railing as he observes you curiously. Of course Azul is aware of the reputation he’s built around himself: a man capable of granting any wish, though the price is steep. One should be wary when agreeing to enter a contract with him. With such a reputation, he would have expected you to know who he was as soon as he walked in, but apparently you never knew what he looked like in the first place.

Secretly, he likes that fact: there’s someone who exists who doesn’t merely seek him out for their own needs. Not that you were seeking him out in the first place, which also stings.

Azul, please make up your mind.

Azul smiles to himself as he pushes his body away from the railing, turning to eye the multiple bookshelves around him as an idea comes to mind. Since it didn’t seem that you like to converse with strangers, he’ll have to find another way to befriend you.

And so, half an hour later, he finds himself standing at the checkout counter, a satisfied smile on his face as he glances down at the stack of books in his arms.

“Are you ready to check out?” you ask, a polite tone to your voice, as you look up from the computer.

Your smile falters for just a second when you see Azul standing in front of you, the sight of the Octavinelle symbol filling you with a sense of dread. 

Be nice, y/n, it’s not like it’s his fault you’re going to be working overtime for the next foreseeable future.

You clear your throat before shifting the chair around, your hands stretched out to take the books from Azul. He merely shakes his head and carefully sets the pile down on the counter before leaning side to side to make sure none of the books have shifted.

“Have a good day, y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he lightly taps the top of the book pile with his fingertips, drawing your attention away from him and to the books before he steps out of the library.

You furrow your eyebrows, your lips curved into a frown as you ponder whether or not you’ve told him your name yet. You decide that you must have, it’s just that your memory’s getting worse as you get older. A sigh escapes your lips at the thought, your still outstretched hands pulling the books Azul left behind towards you so you could put them back where they belong.

“He’s definitely not checking these back in; he wasn’t even carrying any books when he came in earlier. But then why would he bring them here if he wasn’t planning on borrowing them?” you think and eye the books curiously, your chin sandwiched between your fingers.

Hello, Sunshine by [redacted] It’s a Beautiful Day by [redacted] Introduction by [redacted] Humans by [redacted] Peach by [redacted] How to Make Friends for Dummies by [redacted]

You furrow your eyebrows while thinking to yourself that Azul has — well, not strange — but definitely an interestingly wide taste in book genres. But the thought quickly goes away when you give the books a second glance, now wondering if the stranger was trying to give you a secret message through… book spines?

“Hey, Epel!” you call out, not moving your gaze away from the books as if they might disappear if you look away.

“What?!” Epel’s muffled voice answers from the storage room.

“Could you come here for a sec?”

You hear the click of a door opening behind you followed by the shuffling of feet as Epel makes his way over to you. You gather the books into your arms before turning in the chair to face Epel.

“Look, look. What’s this?” you nudge the pile towards Epel.

“Uh… books?” Epel crosses his arms before looking down at the items in your arms with an unimpressed look. “Is this some kind of trick question?”

You roll your eyes at his sassy tone and nudge the books even closer, “no, Epel. Someone left these here. Look at the titles.”

“Huh,” Epel huffs, eyes carefully scanning the titles as he's told to. “What about them?”

“I’m not sure. Is this supposed to be a message or what?” you can’t help the impatient tone that creeps into your voice as you drop the books onto your lap.

Epel gently bites his thumb as he ponders it for a bit. Some of the students here did have some unconventional ways of communicating sometimes. That was apparent from the way Rook asked Epel for help with an Alchemy project last month: by sliding a heart-shaped sticky note under his dorm room door at 4 A.M..

“Yeah, it could be,” Epel finally answers you with a shrug. “Why don’t you try giving them a response? The worst-case scenario is you got it wrong.”

And with that suggestion, Epel leaves you alone again; but not before giving you a, what you assume is supposed to be reassuring, pat on the shoulder.

“Maybe I should,” you think as you glance down at the stacks of books once more, a shy smile creeping onto your face.

❥

The next morning, you enter the library with a feeling of anticipation that you haven’t felt in a long time. You spent a good chunk of last night thinking of how to properly respond to Azul’s message: should you use book spines like he did? Or perhaps try a blackout poem?

You decided on the latter but didn’t have the heart to color inside a book or rip out a page. As a compromise, you wrote out a page of Azul’s first book on a separate piece of paper instead. And that paper is currently tucked into the back pocket of your pants, awaiting the right moment for you to pass it along to its intended receiver.

“Good morning, Epel,” you sing-song, almost skipping around the counter to give the man a hug.

“Morn— ah!” Epel yelps when he suddenly finds himself engulfed in your arms and he raises a hand hesitantly to pat your back, “nice to see you too? Someone’s happy this morning.”

“I am, I’m sorry,” you giggle, unwrapping your arms around the man before taking a step back, “can you do me a favor?”

“Depends on what,” Epel hums, his eyes narrowing because he should have known you weren’t being so nice for no reason. He watches as you shove your hands into your back pocket and pull out a piece of light pink paper folded into an origami peach fruit. His eyes cross when you hold it up a bit too close to his face. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Could you please give this to the stranger from last night?” you ask quietly while giving your friend your best puppy dog eyes.

He blinks, his gaze shifting between your face and the paper peach in front of him. He purses his lips before reluctantly nodding and snatching the paper out of your hands, “Okay… but I don’t even know who I’m looking for, so why can’t you do it yourself?”

“You know why,” your lips jut out into a pout while Epel shakes his head into his hands. “I can’t be there to look him in the eyes if I was actually wrong!”

“You’re actually hopeless, y/n. Maybe you should be meeting with Vil to work on your confidence.”

“I’ll hard pass on that one.”

“So, what’s he look like?”

“Fair-skinned. Beauty mark on the left side of his chin. Short, wavy grey hair. Oh, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s in Octavinelle.”

Epel peeks up at you from between his fingers, glad that his hands are hiding the shocked look on his face. Surely there’s no way that you’re actually describing Azul Ashengrotto without realizing it.

Speaking of the devil, the entrance to the library swings open and the aforementioned man comes striding in with a certain loud eel following closely behind.

Your body automatically straightens as you shoot daggers at the tall man, “Floyd, please try not to cause a disturbance today — and please leave Riddle alone.”

“Oh? I’m afraid you have the wrong brother,” the man chuckles, fist coming up to his lips as he shoots you a polite smile. “See the way this part of my hair curves to look like a ‘J’? That’s the easiest way to make out that I’m Jade.”

“Oh, Sevens. I’m so sorry,” your face begins to heat up in embarrassment once you take a closer look at the man. “I see you two so often, I can’t believe I’m still making that mistake.”

“No worries at all, it’s a common mistake. Housewarden Riddle will be safe to study in peace today.”

“Wonderful, then our heads are safe for today,” you place your hand on your chest and breathe a sigh of relief.

You then glance at the familiar man standing next to Jade with his hands nervously clenched together in front of him. You flash him a warm smile and a quick “good morning” before excusing yourself to the storage room.

No one within a five-feet radius could miss the way you waved aggressively at Epel as you walked away.

“Right,” Epel drawls once he hears the sound of a door click. He holds out the peach origami unceremoniously, his face screaming boredom when no one moves. “I believe this is for you.”

“My, my, you have great craftsmanship, Epel,” Jade smiles again, leaning in to study the pink paper in the other’s hand.

“I didn’t make it, y/n did. And it’s not for you,” Epel rolls his eyes, shifting his hands towards Azul’s direction.

Azul’s expression is a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. First, surprise from you understanding the message he had conveyed from the books last night. He admittedly had never done something like that before, and didn’t have enough time to go scavenger hunting for the right books.

Second, embarrassment from having been discovered in front of one of the twins. There’s no way this isn’t going to reach Floyd’s ears and he’ll have to mentally prepare himself for a royal tease storm later.

Azul clears his throat and ignores the way Jade’s eyes follow him curiously when he takes a few steps forward to grab the paper from Epel, “thank you for this.”

“I must have missed a couple chapters here,” Jade comments in amusement. “Would you care to share?”

“Absolutely not, Jade.”

❥

It’s not until Azul is in the safety from prying eyes of the V.I.P. room that Azul finally decides to read what you’ve given him.

He picks up the paper peach delicately like it is his mother’s fine china, turning it over and over between his fingers to study your origami work.

It’s a shame I have to ruin this, Azul thinks to himself as he gingerly unfolds your note. He stares at the long thick lines of black drawn on the page, mentally reading the words that were purposely made legible.

[illegible] It’s nice to meet you, [illegible] You have [illegible] a beautiful smile [illegible] I like [illegible] your [illegible] books.

A few more lines of black.

I’m sorry [illegible] It’s a bit awkward, but [illegible] See you soon.

Azul rests his cheek on the palm of his hand, an amused smile appearing on his face as he re-reads your note.

“They’re certainly creative,” he mutters to himself as he follows the creases of the paper to re-fold your origami peach, ideas already popping into his mind as a feeling of anticipation similar to yours bubbles up inside of him.

Thus, begins your unique form of communication with the housewarden.

On the night the promotion is to begin at Mostro Lounge, Azul drops yet another pile of books for you at the checkout counter. His lips are curved up to a rare timid smile as Epel stares at him from his seat, “I assume these aren’t for yourself.”

“Um… no,” Azul rubs the back of his neck, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

“I’ll make sure y/n gets this,” Epel can’t help but laugh at the expression on Azul’s face as he slides the books closer to himself. “Why do you look like that? I’m not judging you.”

“I know you aren’t!” Azul quickly retorts, his voice rising slightly in defense. “It’s just… I feel a little weird. We’ve never spoken more than a handful of words to each other, but now I'm getting excited to talk to them like this…”

Epel waves his hand in the air dismissively, “trust me: even I’m surprised at how things are unfolding between the two of you.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t told them who I am yet.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I’m just glad y/n’s finally opening up and making new friends,” Epel says plainly before sticking his tongue out at the older man. “No matter how suspicious the new friend could be.”

Before Azul could question him further, Jade appears by his side, whispering into his ear that they will need to return to the lounge soon. Azul reluctantly excuses himself and follows his vice-housewarden back to the Hall of Mirror.

It’s the busiest that you’ve ever seen the library, watching from the safety of the opened door to the storage room as an endless circulation of people come in and out the door. In the crowd, you catch a momentary glimpse of Azul’s warm smile just before he left. The mere sight of it causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach and you tiptoe over to the counter where Epel is situated hoping to catch another glimpse of it.

You immediately hear a soft shuffling sound coming from beneath you and it causes you to look down. There lies yet another stack of books, and you give Epel a questioning glance though his eyes remain glued to the scene in front of him. Did he expect you to put these back? Right now?

When you bend down to grab the books, you almost want to facepalm yourself for being such an idiot. Because there laid yet another message from Azul; this one shorter than the last.

The Sun Says Hello by [redacted] Thank You by [redacted] You Are Beautiful by [redacted] Look Below by [redacted]

Look below? you think before following the instructions and literally looking down, but only seeing your feet. Of course, that’s not it. What about…?

You lift the pile of books off the table, a grin appearing on your face when you see a folded piece of paper where the books once were. You glance over to where you last saw Azul and can’t help but wonder if this is how the characters in romance novels felt; the nervousness of passing each other a new secret message, the anxiety of wondering if they’ve said the right thing, the excitement of awaiting a response, and the exhilaration of the whole process.

You gently pat your warming cheeks with your hands and snap yourself out of your brief thoughts. With a shake of your head, you take the note and make your way back to the storage room before closing the door behind you.

“You need to get out more,” you say aloud to yourself, referring to your ridiculous thoughts of comparing your humdrum life to a romance novel.

You click your tongue in disapproval, your hands busy unfolding Azul’s note to read the contents written inside.

Y/n, I’m sorry if this was too corny. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by approaching you directly. Thank you for your response, I really wasn’t expecting it. You guys have so many books here that it’d take a long time for me to find the ones I need to send another book spine message. I mean, not that that’s a bad thing! I hope you don’t mind a good old fashion letter though. Why don’t we share quotes from our favorite books instead? That way I don't have to trouble you and make you put back the books I took. I’m curious to know what kinds of literature you like to read. I’ll go first. “He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.” Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy - Azul Ashengrotto

You feel like your eyes are going to pop out of their sockets from how suddenly they grew wide, “Wha— you mean, like, the Octavinelle Housewarden Azul?!”

❥

A few weeks pass by with more than a handful of letters being exchanged between you and Azul; though, truthfully, you were tempted to stop your correspondence once you were aware of Azul’s identity.

“Eh, why? Did he say something wrong?” Epel had inquired when you came to him for advice once again.

“Well, no, but he did put Ace and Deuce into a predicament, so…”

“They kind of had that coming for opting to cheat instead of just studying like we did.”

“You sound just like Jack.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. What else?”

“Uh, because of the dang promotion he’s doing, we’re going to be a lot busier than usual.”

“Y/n. We work in a library — located on-campus, might I add. And it’s almost finals season,” Epel looks about ready to throw a book at you so maybe that’ll knock some sense into you.

“Okay… but what if this is just a ploy to get me to sign my livelihood away in some contract?”

“Azul’s a straightforward business man. He definitely wouldn’t be wasting his time like this just for a contract.”

You paused and thought through Epel’s words for a moment. It did make sense: why would Azul be spending his precious free time to entertain you in this way if he could’ve simply approached you with a salesman’s pitch?

You felt guilty for immediately assuming that his intentions were bad. Afterall, your only experience with the man outside of this long exchange was from word of mouth. Not to mention that his restaurant promotion was beneficial to both the library and the students.

“Okay, you may have a good point. Several good points, in fact,” you sigh in defeat.

In the beginning, both you and Azul had to badger Epel to pass along secret letters to the other person; and the requests were almost always followed with a look of utter displeasure.

There was more than one occasion where Epel was tempted to just lock the two of you inside the storage room until you would eventually talk.

Luckily for all three of you, he never had to resort to that.

There eventually came a point when you felt comfortable enough to approach Azul first, and he would always welcome you with a heart-stopping smile; one that would leave your cheeks feeling warm and catch your words in your throat. If the man knew the effect that he had on you, he was certainly gracious enough not to show it.

In his free time, Azul likes to stroll around the library with you. While it’s usually in a comfortable silence, he’ll sometimes ask you to elaborate on things from your last correspondences.

Other times, he’ll ask you to proofread his contracts or ask for your ideas on how he can improve sales at Monstro Lounge — things he usually either did himself or asked for Jade’s assistance. You always tell him that you’re not qualified enough to give him such advice, but he always insists anyway.

Just like that, you learn more about each other and your tastes in literature than you would have with anyone else.

Today Azul arrives at the library just as you’re finishing up your afternoon tasks. You rush over to the checkout counter as soon as you see him come in, the warm, welcoming smile on your face immediately lifting his spirits.

“Hi, Azul! Welcome back,” you call out to the man, waving at him with your free hand while the other is clutching a clipboard full of inventory paperwork.

“Hi, y/n,” Azul’s lips quirk up into his signature sweet smile that doesn’t betray the quick beating of his heart. “How was your day?”

“Tiring… but I kind of like seeing the new faces around here so I don’t mind that trade-off,” you answer, referring to the influx of students scrambling to prepare for finals at every available corner of the building.

“I’m glad that you’re starting to warm up to strangers,” Azul chuckles, his hand reaching out to gently ruffle your hair. You stare up at Azul with widened eyes, and he stares back with his hand slightly trembling; clearly you both are surprised by the affectionate gesture.

Azul suddenly clears his throat, breaking you both out of your momentary trance as he pulls his hand away. Even if he didn’t plan on showing his affection as such, he couldn’t deny that he’s started to develop romantic feelings for you.

That's why he came today, so he could finally ask you something that he’d been delaying for the past week or so.

“So, anyways,” Azul starts, and you can hear the subtle tone of nervousness in his voice.

You watch with furrowed eyebrows as Azul slips a strap of his backpack off his shoulders and unzips the largest pocket. After a few seconds of digging around, Azul finally flourishes a handful of books that he holds out towards you with the spines purposefully facing away.

“What’re these for?” you ask curiously, though you don’t wait for an answer before taking the books from Azul and clutching them to your chest. “Are we going back to book spine messages now?”

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind,” Azul nods in confirmation before shrugging his backpack strap back on. He presses his lips into a thin line, eyes fixed to the floor beside you and cheeks a rosy tint as he asks, “um… I— I’ll get a reply before I leave today… right?”

“Of course, that’s been our routine for a while now,” you giggle as you find it quite adorable how shy Azul suddenly got, even if you don’t know the reason why yet.

“I’ll be waiting then,” Azul flashes an uncharacteristic half-smile before heading up to his usual writing spot on the second floor.

Although Azul seems to be acting strange today, you think that maybe he’s had a difficult time convincing Floyd to study today and has a headache. You roll your eyes at the thought while shaking your head and mumbling, “I’ll squeeze that eel twice as hard the next time I see him.”

With a loud sigh, you make your way around the checkout counter and plop down onto Epel’s vacant office chair with a familiar loud creak. You wince, bowing your head apologetically at the few people who turned towards the source of the sudden noise that disturbed their peace.

Once their attention is averted back to whatever they were doing before they were so rudely interrupted, you turn your attention back to the books Azul handed you earlier. The last time he gave you something like this was when he asked to start exchanging letters instead; so, you’re curious as to why he suddenly decided to change his method again.

You place the books on the counter in front of you, your clipboard and paperwork long forgotten underneath the stack.

Friday Nights by [redacted] Dinner Recipes by [redacted] Together by [redacted] If You’d Like To by [redacted]

You stare at the books with a dumbfounded expression, not wanting to jump into conclusions about its meaning; but what else could it mean besides Azul Ashengrotto asking you out to dinner this Friday night?

It suddenly makes sense why he was acting kind of shy earlier.

The thought makes you feel warm inside, and you have to hide the wide smile appearing on your face behind your hands.

You don’t want to wait until Azul leaves tonight to give him an answer, and you make up your mind almost right away to tell him your answer verbally — mostly because your brain is not comprehending what’s going on well enough to function properly and think of a creative response to his invitation.

You shake your head while patting your cheeks rather roughly, getting up from your seat carefully to not make any more unwanted noise.

Your feet rush you up the stairs to the second floor before you can talk yourself into chickening out, before you can change your mind, before—

The sight of Azul makes you stop in your tracks, your heart hammering wildly against your chest. Was it from seeing the person that you adore, or was it from the sudden rush of adrenaline? You honestly can’t tell anymore.

Azul is hunched over a short pile of papers — the lack of paper balls around him makes you think that he’s at least got a good start to his studying session — his cheek is resting against his fist as the other hand is busy writing away. His eyebrows are furrowed in utter concentration, so much so that he doesn’t even realize that his glasses are slowly sliding down the bridge of his nose.

You quietly make your way to the chair across the table from the man and settle yourself down onto the wooden material with your eyes still fixed on him. You’re not sure if it’s just the harsh lighting of the library or you weren’t paying attention earlier, but you can see faint dark circles under his eyes.

“Aren’t you sleeping enough?” you mumble, though Azul still doesn’t hear you. Your hand reaches out without you meaning to, your fingertips gently brushing aside the locks of hair that were starting to cover Azul’s eyes.

This finally gathers his attention and the man jolts in surprise, his eyes wide as his head shoots up to see you sitting across from him.

You can’t help but giggle at how adorable Azul looks, pulling your hand back to cover your mouth as you do so, “I’m so sorry. I didn't think you could get so focused in, like, five minutes.”

“Oh— I— yeah, sorry,” the man snaps back to his senses before his hands are spread out to cover whatever he’s written — not that he needed to. You wouldn’t have peeked anyways, and you both know that well enough: you’d never look unless he asked you to. “Did you need something?”

“Huh?” you question before cursing yourself mentally, because just a fleeting look at Azul could make your mind go completely blank. You quickly shake your head before Azul could elaborate, “no, no! I just… I'm saying yes. To your, uh… invitation.”

“My invi— oh,” Azul’s mouth forms a small “o” as he realizes what you’re referring to; and just like the first time you gave him a response, he’s caught by surprise.

To be honest, he was mentally preparing himself for rejection. Lack of self-confidence aside, he wasn’t sure if you felt the same way he did; whereas he ended his letters with quite corny quotes from romance novels, you missed his hints and always ended yours with quotes from novels in any other genre.

“Is that… okay?” you ask hesitantly when Azul doesn’t say anything else. You can feel your entire body starting to feel warm from embarrassment, the thought that you must have misinterpreted his words hitting you like a brick.

“Y—yeah, of course!” Azul answers a bit too quickly, and the more time passes by, the wider his smile gets and the redder his ears turn. “I’m the one who asked, why are you asking if it’s okay to say ‘yes’?”

“I thought I misinterpreted,” you confess after releasing the breath you were anxiously holding in.

Azul chuckles and places his hands on yours before giving them a reassuring squeeze, “I’m sorry, I was caught off guard. But thank you for agreeing to go out with me.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” your cheeks begin to burn as the cliché phrase leaves your lips. “but um… where are we going? Are you actually going to cook dinner?”

You don’t doubt that the man probably has skills in a kitchen. He owns a restaurant after all, but you’ve never visited before so you’re not sure who actually does all the cooking. Azul merely runs his thumb and index finger across his lips in a zipping motion.

“It’s a surprise!”

❥

The next few days follow in a blur of excitement and expectancy. You’ve tried to ask Azul multiple times for even just a hint of what your plans would be for Friday night, but he stays true to his word of keeping everything a surprise.

So, come Friday, you decide to dress comfortably with a pair of straight leg jeans and an oversized, lilac-toned sweater. It’s simplistic, but when Azul comes to pick you up at the library that night, it seems that the two of you had unintentionally matched — though his sweater is slightly darker in color.

When you first see each other, you point at one-another as if you were the infamous Spider-man meme. Small bursts of laughter leave both of your lips as you decide to make the first move and reach out for his hand.

Without his gloves on, you can feel how clammy Azul’s hand is from nervousness. You don’t mind it very much though, his hand is still very soft and warm and comforting to you. 

“Are you ready?” Azul asks, daring to give your hand the tiniest squeeze.

“Uh, as ready as someone can be when they don’t know where they’re going.”

Azul chuckles as he nods, “okay, fair enough. It’s nowhere bad, I promise. I’m not a serial killer.”

“That sounds exactly like what a serial killer would say in a mystery book, but I’ll trust you.”

“You read way too many crime books,” Azul comments, thinking back to the quotes you’ve written to him in your letters.

“I’d like to say I’ve broadened my horizons just a little bit. Though I never would’ve taken you for such a romantic,” you tease back, smiling sheepishly when the man chokes on his own spit at your words.

“I— uh, I’m most definitely not,” Azul says defensively between coughs, his cheeks reddening though you aren’t sure if it’s because he choked or because he’s actually feeling shy. “It’s just research for my, uh… contract work.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say,” you chuckle, rubbing the man’s back with your free hand until he ceases to cough.

The rest of the walk is blanketed in a comfortable silence, your gaze fixed on the fairy lights decorating the exterior of the school buildings. Once the lights have all but disappeared, your initial thought is that the dark hallways really don’t help Azul’s claim of not being a serial killer. If it’s true, then at least your last sight would be of a handsome man.

A few more minutes pass before you finally set foot inside the familiar Hall of Mirrors, Azul slowly guiding you to the mirror that connects to the Octavinelle dorm.

“You’ve never been to the Mostro Lounge before, have you?” Azul asks when he sees you staring apprehensively at the mirror.

“No, I haven’t.”

“It’s my pleasure to accompany you on your first visit then,” Azul smiles with a hand on his chest. “Hopefully, you’ll enjoy your time tonight so you can come visit again in the future.”

“I’m sure I’ll enjoy it since I’m with you, but will the tweels be there tonight? I can only imagine the amount of teasing we’re going to be enduring soon. Not that I mind!” you quickly add before Azul can take that as a sign to cancel.

“Hah, I thought about that too,” Azul mutters, two fingers rubbing circles on his temple as if to fight back an oncoming headache. “But…”

“But?” you tilt your head curiously, prying when Azul refuses to make eye contact with you.

Azul takes a deep breath, mentally willing himself to say possibly the cheesiest thing he’s ever said in his life, “but I don’t mind suffering just a little bit if you’ll be by my side.”

Now it’s your turn to start choking on air. Yeah, he definitely reads way too many romance novels.

❥

When you finally set foot inside the Monstro Lounge, it isn’t quite as busy as you had anticipated it to be. There are just a handful of patrons sitting around, mostly chattering amongst themselves and only momentarily stopping when you and Azul pass by.

It’s peaceful, and you have to wonder why Azul prefers to work in the library as opposed to here. And well, to be fair, it’s only this “slow” tonight due to Azul’s own doing. Ah, the sacrifices on profits he has to make for love.

You place your hand in Azul’s outstretched one after you enter the lounge, shy smiles on both of your faces as you allow him to guide you towards the kitchen. You don’t even notice that Azul hasn’t let go of your hand when you bump into Jade and Floyd.

“Oh, my, what a surprise to see you here, Azul,” Jade calmly says as he bows his head, “and y/n is here too. What a pleasant surprise. Good evening, y/n.”

“Ohhhh? Azul, you didn’t tell us you were bringing over a date tonight,” Floyd grins mischievously, only a second away from springing forward to squeeze you if Jade wasn’t holding on to the back of his shirt. “And it’s the dolphin from the library. Hi, dolphin.”

“H—hello,” you quickly greet the two men, your hand grasping Azul’s tighter in fear of an oncoming squeeze, “I hope we’re not intruding.”

“Not at all. I already told Jade beforehand that we were coming, so we’ll have the place to ourselves in a moment,” Azul answers you, his free hand adjusting the bridge of his glasses. “Please spare me that shocked look, Floyd. You know you’re the last person I would inform of a date.”

“Aw, Azul, you’re a meanie! I wouldn’t have teased you that much, I swear!” Floyd huffs and pouts.

“I can hardly believe that.”

“Now, now, Floyd. Let’s leave the lovebirds alone,” Jade coos, patting his brother on the back before slowly pushing him towards the direction you had just come in from. “Have a wonderful time, y/n. Azul.”

“You’ll be hearing from me later,” Floyd grumbles, pout still very apparent on his face while he reluctantly follows his brother out the door.

With their departure, the kitchen falls eerily silent, safe for the quiet hum of the commercial freezer in the corner. Azul silently lets go of your hand and dares to place a hand on the small of your back instead as he guides you deeper inside.

You’re not surprised by how impeccably clean the kitchen seems to be, surely Azul checks in often to ensure that everything is up to his standards and beyond. But what you are surprised by is the sight that greets you when Azul finally opens a door at the very back of the kitchen.

You’re greeted by the afternoon sunlight streaming through a window that doesn’t seem to belong in an underwater dorm. But there’s no way that you could be hallucinating the sight in front of you.

In the middle of the room is a long, wooden farm table with about four mismatched wooden chairs encompassing it; the wide window sill you saw first is showcasing several small pots that are homes to what you assume to be herbs and vegetables.

Azul notices your awe-filled gaze and retracts his hand, allowing you to roam around the room freely while he heads back to the kitchen to check on tonight’s dinner — courtesy of Jade. The acoustic in the room allows for your voice to be heard loud and clear though you’re technically in separate rooms.

“I didn’t know that they have rooms like this in the Coral Sea,” you say aloud, the tone of your voice conveying that your statement is serious.

“We definitely don’t,” you hear distant Azul’s chuckle and you can mentally picture the kind of smile the man has on his face at the moment. “That room is typically used as storage, but I borrowed a magic projector from Vil a while ago to make it look more home-y for you.”

“It certainly does look like home…” you say to yourself as you slowly take in your surroundings more carefully.

You’re not sure how Azul would know it himself as you’ve never talked to him about it before, but the setting before you — brought by a magic projector or not — does remind you of the dining room from back home. It’s been so long since you’d last seen it that you’d almost forgotten what it looked like.

It’s a kind gesture that brings tears of joy and nostalgia to your eyes.

“Thank you, Azul, this is really thoughtful of you. I don’t have anything to give you in return right now, but… what is it that you wish for, Azul?” you’ve made your way towards the kitchen by now, your shoulder leaning against the doorway as you gaze at the man with a look filled with curiosity.

Azul glances over his shoulders to look at you, his lips curving up into a soft smile as he shrugs, “if I tell you my wish, then it won’t come true.”

You fold your arms and hum in response, “okay, fair enough. I thought you were going to say ‘world domination’.”

“That’s such a plain wish, but I bet younger me would’ve wished for something just like that,” Azul laughs aloud at himself before shaking his head, “I think nowadays my wish is to be more confident in myself and my own abilities.”

You nod in understanding as you recall the brief stories he would share of his childhood. It seems that Azul has gone through so much in a short amount of time, but he’s also changed so much since then.

You walk over to the man and place your hand above his own, the steam from your dinner eventually warming your hand and dampening them as well.

“I think you’re doing a wonderful job right now, and I’m very proud of you,” you smile fondly at Azul, causing his eyes to widen in surprise and his chest to tighten as if he may burst into tears at any moment now.

“T—thank you…” it’s the first time someone has said anything like that to him before, and he’s not sure how he should respond. Right now, he’s only focused on making sure his face isn’t turning as red as Riddle’s.

“Of course! I’ll remind you of that as often as you’d like!”

Just as quickly as his expression changed before, Azul’s face brightens up once more at your response. He turns on his heels, his arms balancing a variety of plates packed with food. You reach out to help alleviate the burden on his arms, but he moves his arms away from your reach before leaning down to get to eye level with you.

“Then I have even more of a reason to be grateful, right? We got to meet each other, and my wishful thinking… may not be such after all.”

Your features crease into a look of confusion at the man’s unexpected words, but when you gaze into his dark grey orbs you can see the sincerity in them.

Unknowingly, the space between your faces starts to become smaller and smaller. Azul’s gaze shifts between your eyes, then your lips, then back up again. But before anything can happen, as if the universe is playing a joke on you, a plate in Azul’s arm shifts ever so slightly and causes the two of you to jump apart.

A rather awkward laugh makes its way past your lips and you hurriedly reach out to grab a few plates from Azul’s arms before he can protest. You don’t say a single word as you set the plates down onto the farm table, your mind too busy screaming a million incoherent thoughts, and Azul follows suit.

“I’m so sorry,” Azul is the first to break the silence once you’ve taken a seat diagonal to each other, on either side of a table corner.

“What? Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head while simultaneously waving your hands. Your fingers slowly curve into loose fists that you rest atop your lap, the small smile on your face mirroring Azul’s own.

“Do you… know why I asked you out tonight?” Azul hesitantly asks, a quiet sigh leaving his lips when you shake your head ‘no’. “Well, it’s just that I realized that we’ve spent most of our time together in the library— well, in fact, I have never seen you outside of the library. It finally occurred to me that I might be making you feel like you don’t matter outside of that space. Which you do!”

“I don’t feel that way though…” you try to reassure him, but it seems like your words only enter one ear and exit the other as he continues to speak.

“I’ve truly enjoyed exchanging all those letters with you and being able to connect through our shared love for books. But, if you don’t mind, I’d like to start seeing you outside of that too.”

It doesn’t take you long to process the situation and, to your utmost surprise, your heart isn’t hammering in your chest like you think it should. Instead your entire body feels comfortably warm and you have the overwhelming urge to embrace Azul.

At this point, you’ve garnered enough courage to do just that.

You stand up and quickly make your way over to him, your arms immediately wrapping themselves around Azul’s shoulders while your face hides in the crook of his neck. It takes a moment for him to respond, but Azul’s arms eventually find their place around your waist to press your body firmly against his.

“You’re such an idiot, Azul,” you mutter after what feels like an eternity has passed.

Your words cause the man’s lower lip to jut out into a pout, and he leans back ever so slightly so he can look at your face; you almost whine when the warmth of Azul’s body leaves you.

“Why am I an idiot?” Azul inquires, a hand moving to tuck loose strands of hair behind your ear.

“Because… if I really felt that way then I never would have kept reciprocating for so long. It doesn’t matter if we spent all that time in one place because it never got boring or tiring with you around,” you pause to flash a fond smile at Azul. “And even now, I’m having the time of my life just being here in your presence. Is that too corny to say? It’s the truth though.”

Azul chuckles in amusement while shaking his head, “it’s not corny. I think.”

It’s the first time that you’ve been so straightforward without getting flustered, and he’s not sure where your sudden courage came from.

Not that he’s complaining about it though.

When you two first met, you could barely hold a conversation with him for more than a minute. While he did feel a pang of disappointment every time, he never took it personally — especially not after seeing you interact with other students in a similar manner.

You caught him off guard when you finally approached him first, weeks after your first correspondences, though your cheeks were permanently warm while you tried your best to converse with him.

He found you adorable, like a newborn seal pup being introduced to the world for the first time.

Azul has always enjoyed your company since the beginning, whereas he’d prefer to be left alone to work in the past. But then he found himself going back to the library time and time again, until it became a regular occurrence.

He admittedly never got a lot of studying done when he was at the library — at least, not at the times when he accompanied you on your daily runs to shelve book returns.

Azul’s still not sure when his feelings developed beyond those of curiosity and friendship.

Perhaps it was when you could finally meet his eyes and hold contact, allowing him to gaze deep into your eyes that always seemed to sparkle with light and joy.

Or perhaps it was when he told you a dad joke so bad that it actually made you burst into a fit of giggles that left you breathless — the mere sight of you smiling gleefully tugging at his heartstrings in the best way.

Regardless of the when, where, why, and how’s, Azul is certain of his feelings for you.

“I wonder if this is how Benedick and Beatrice felt when they finally agreed to marry,” you comment, breaking through Azul’s thoughts.

Azul nearly snorts at your remark, “B—Benedick and Beatrice? You mean the ones from “Much Ado About Nothing”?”

“Yeah… why?”

The man laughs after your confirmation, your cheeks being partially squished between his palms as he brings your faces closer together until the tips of your noses are almost touching, “no offense — I adore that beautiful mind of yours — but I don’t think those two exactly exude the idea of ‘wholesome’.”

“But think of the relief they must’ve felt after they didn’t have to pretend they didn’t love each other anymore.”

“So, you love me?” Azul quirks an eyebrow up challengingly.

“Wh— you’re taking that too literally,” you grumble with a fist hitting the man’s chest gently, though the way you avoid his eyes and your cheeks are flushed tells him that he may be somewhere on the right path.

“Then… do you like me?” Azul inquires, and you can see the mischievous glint in his eyes when you finally meet them.

“Do we really have to say that out loud after we already did our monologues?”

“I want to hear it from you. Please.”

You swallow the small lump in your throat, though that’s the only sign of nervousness in your entire body.

You find it fascinating how quickly your body’s reactions change whenever Azul is around. There’s a sense of nerves and shyness when you’re in the midst of new experiences, but it just as quickly changes to feelings of calmness because the man brings you such a sense of comfort you never expected.

Just like how the lump in your throat dissipates and leaves you to gaze at Azul with complete fondness.

There’s not a moment of hesitation before your whispered confession of “I truly like you, Azul Ashengrotto.” hangs in the air.

Just those simple words of affirmation make Azul’s entire face light up, the sight of his bright smile making you feel like you were standing in the middle of a field and soaking in the warm summer sunlight.

“And I like you, y/n.”

Your bodies act as if on muscle memory, Azul’s face tilting ever so slightly while your eyes flutter shut. You’re not sure who closes the distance first. Perhaps it was both of you moving simultaneously, but your lips eventually meet in a fleeting and gentle kiss.

There were no fireworks igniting behind your eyelids like they’d described in the countless books you’ve read, but it still leaves you feeling lightheaded. Like you’re melting into Azul’s arms. Like there’s only the two of you alone in this vast world.

When you pull apart, the two of you giggle like schoolgirls but the action isn’t fueled by feelings of awkwardness or nervousness. You both gaze at each other with eyes full of admiration and budding feelings of love, the feelings that were hidden before from fear of being rejected finally bubbling up to the surface.

You’ve long forgotten about the now-cold plates of food sitting in front of you; opting to spend the rest of the night exchanging even more gentle kisses and whispered sweet nothings.

❥

The dynamics of your relationship with Azul hardly changed after you confirmed your feelings for one-another, and you truly feel grateful that there was no pressure on you to act differently.

Of course, now there were a lot more lingering touches, your fingers almost always intertwined if there was nothing to keep them busy. You’d even sneak brief kisses behind the cover of bookshelves when you thought no one was looking.

Even if neither of you were a fan of P.D.A., you made an exception for each other. 

Nothing was made official between the two of you after that fateful night, as Azul opted to wait another half a year before asking you to be his partner.

You didn’t mind his decision to take things slow. You both wanted to make sure that your feelings for each other weren’t just illusions brought forth by letters on paper — though you knew that wasn’t the case anyways.

When he felt that the time was right, Azul asked the question in the best way that he knew how to: through book spines. Though unlike how he’d asked you on your “first date,” Azul didn’t shy away after dropping the books off.

He’d waited patiently for you to have some time to spare for him, his chin resting atop his folded arms at the checkout counter as he watched you help patron after patron check out books.

“I have something for you,” Azul could hardly contain his excitement when you finally turned to him and let him know you were free.

“What is it?”

You felt a sense of déjà vu watching Azul dig into his backpack and pull out a stack of books. He placed them down on the counter with the book spines facing you, and you’d half-expected him to walk away like before.

But he stayed there; his eyes curved into double rainbows coupled with a sweet smile, and his hands trembling ever so slightly in nervousness.

Will by [redacted] You by [redacted] Bees by [redacted] Mine by [redacted]

You had to hold back the squeal that was threatening to escape your larynx when you finally looked away from Azul long enough to read his message. Your mind already went over the fact that Azul had to substitute the word “be” with “bees” and you nodded so hard Azul thought your head might fly off.

Now it’s been exactly a year since you two made your relationship official. In the year you’ve spent as a couple — and even before then — you’d fallen into a pleasant routine.

During the weekdays, while you’re working at the library, Azul would be studying in his usual spot in the corner of the second story. After some time, he’d suspiciously stopped asking you to proofread his work.

Every Friday night, he would try out new dinner recipes and you would be in charge of baking dessert — and you wonder how his kitchen has managed to stay so spotless after all this time.

Sometimes you would invite Epel, Ace, and Deuce to come over too, and the first time your friends agreed to come, they were appalled by how sweet you and Azul were; but they secretly loved seeing you genuinely happy in this strange new world.

Saturday’s were reserved for the show-and-tell of Azul’s enormous coin collection, with the latter recalling stories of when he found them on solo adventures in the Coral Sea. When you asked why he had so many, Azul explained that they help with his memory and it’s exciting to learn of the history behind especially old coins. You can’t argue with him there.

Sunday’s are for those who may say that your relationship seems too mundane. You both agreed to do something new during this day, may it be something as small as feeding ducks near the pond or as adventure packed as tagging along with Jade on his strolls in the mountains.

Either way, you always ended the day cuddling up next to each other in Azul’s bedroom.

The collections of books in this world are endless, and you’ve made it a habit to take turns reading aloud to each other until you both fell asleep late into the night.

But this Sunday, the exact day of your one-year anniversary with Azul, the man had asked if you could stay at home. Your homebody-self answered “yes” without hesitation.

It’s already nightfall by the time you find yourselves stuffed with dinner and cake and situated under the wooden pergola illuminated by Vil’s borrowed magic projector. Your comfortable silence is accompanied by the soothing chirping of crickets and a night sky sprinkled with the brightest stars.

“Happy anniversary, angel,” Azul says with a warm smile before bringing your hands up to press tender kisses along your knuckles.

“Angel”: it’s a hypocorism that Azul has grown fond of calling you by. When he first started to call you as such, you found it amusing because it’s a name that better suits him.

“Happy anniversary, darling,” your smile mirrors Azul’s own, a quiet giggle escaping your lips when his lips tickle your skin.

It’s a wonder that time has passed so quickly.

It felt like just yesterday you saw Azul entering the library, with not a single clue as to who he was — and now here you are, more than positive that you’re in love with the man sitting in front of you.

“I love you”: it’s a sentence that has remained unspoken between the two of you. Not because you don’t love each other, because even a jellyfish could see that you do, but because neither of you ever felt the need to verbalize those feelings.

Until now.

“Azul,” you call out, waiting until he glances up and hums in response. “I love you.”

A minute of silence follows, then two, then three, and as more time passes on, you can feel a sense of panic growing stronger in the pit of your stomach.

Had you thought wrong? Did you just jump the gun when Azul didn’t feel as strongly for you as you did for him?

“I have something for you,” Azul’s soothing voice cuts through your anxious thoughts.

You try to ignore the pang of disappointment that accompanies your panic.

He didn’t say it back.

“What is it?” you ask, your voice sounding weak.

“Close your eyes.”

You do as you’re told, keeping your eyes closed as Azul lets go of your hands. You can hear him rummaging around for something, and you have to wonder what it could be.

Your eyes only open again when Azul gives you the okay to.

Azul places what appears to be a manuscript atop your lap, and you look at him with a puzzled expression on your face as you pick the bundle of papers up, ”what is this?”

“I didn’t tell you this before because I was too embarrassed, but I decided to try writing a book of my own,” Azul chuckles, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m getting close to done. I just wanted you to see it first, even though I know you hate spoilers.”

“I absolutely do,” you declare as you roll your eyes in a playful manner.

“I know, I know, but…” Azul bites on his lower lip, his voice trailing off as he contemplates how to word his next sentence. “I’m better at writing out my feelings than I am verbally expressing it, and I’ve included it here. I’d love for you to read it first before the rest of the world.”

“I think you’re better at expressing your feelings aloud than you think you are, darling.”

You can’t deny that you feel honored to have Azul regard you highly enough to have you be the first to read his nearly completed work. Sure, you’ve spent hours proofreading essays and the like before, but this felt different.

Azul’s hands are clasped together tightly enough to make his skin appear a few shades lighter, anxiety coursing through his body as he watches you flip to the first page of the manuscript where the dedication page is. He’s not sure why he feels that way when he knows exactly how you feel about him.

Your eyes and mind slowly take in the words written on the page.

Were you suddenly hallucinating sweet words onto paper? A quick glance up at Azul tells you no.

His written feelings bring tears of happiness to the corners of your eyes, and it takes all your willpower to not throw your arms around the man and kiss him right then and there.

To my muse, my angel, my wonderful y/n, You know what people say about meeting your soulmate? It feels like you’re at home the moment you meet them. I think they’re right, because while the sight of your beautiful smile makes my heart race, you also make me feel safe and comfortable. It’s like one look from you lifts the weight of the world off my shoulders, like there’s absolutely nothing for me to worry about. Without you, I would never have experienced things and feelings that I thought were only possible in books. It’s with our fond memories in mind that I write this book. Thank you. Thank you for choosing to spend your days with me. Thank you for being a beacon of support during the times I was clouded with self-doubt and during the times I wasn’t. I love you. “Yours is the light by which my spirit’s born: you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.” - E.E. Cummings

gladiator lilia.. JUST A DASH OF ANGST?? I FELT MY HEART CRUMBLE AND BREAK TO AOTA NOOOOOOOO LILIAAAA DEUCEEE

it doesnt help that ive studied the destruction of pompeii for years 😭😭😭 - eve

AAAAAAAA I initially was going to make it open-ended but decided to torture myself instead. ;_;

That’s so cool though! It was definitely an interesting event to research, so I hope I did it an ounce of justice!

Pairing: Gladiator!Lilia x GN!Reader Genre: A dash of angst, fluff Warning(s): Brief mentions of blood and injury, implied character death, natural disaster A/N: I tried to do research to make this as historically accurate as possible, but please forgive any mistakes there. T_T

The first time you and Lilia met was shortly before the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 A.D..

At the time, Lilia was a Vicecomes who willingly signed up to fight in the gladiator games, much to the horror of his friends and family. He was considered a major celebrity of those days, finding himself triumphant against even the most beloved gladiators despite his petite and slender stature.

Meanwhile you worked as a doctor providing the best medical care possible to the greatly valued gladiators. Being a doctor was merely viewed as being a trade at the time, so you didn’t earn nearly as much respect as Lilia did.

Still, you worked hard every day and did an objectively good job despite receiving no proper training.

Eventually you were trusted enough to take care of the more “important” gladiators, and that was when you met Lilia.

“Look at this,” you say quietly to yourself, clicking your tongue in displeasure as you press a cloth soaked in vinegar to a deep wound on Lilia’s arm.

The gladiator winces at the painful stinging sensation that spread throughout his limb, gritting his teeth so he doesn’t cry out.

“I’m sorry,” you offer the gladiator an apologetic smile and remove the now blood-stained cloth to dip it into a bowl of vinegar by your side. “If it’s any consolation, you fought well today.”

“Thank y— ah,” Lilia hisses when you press the cloth to his wound again, though the pain has lessened the second time around. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and tilting his head back to calm himself down before speaking. “Thank you. You were watching the fight?”

“Well, who wasn’t watching it? It was an important one to attend. ”

“Tell me: was everyone expecting me to go easy on Emperor Titus because he’s old?” the gladiator asks, rolling his eyes partly in annoyance of the punishment to come due to his victory.

“Well… he just took over from his father, so you could have gone a little easier on him. You know, let him win a few popularity points with the crowd?”

Lilia shoots you a look of disbelief as if to ask “are you kidding me?” and you merely shrug in response.

He watches as you busy yourself by dumping the dirtied vinegar outside his barracks. It’s uncommon for him to have a doctor who doesn’t stare at him in awe as they treat him, but even less so one who seems indifferent to his presence.

“I just have to dress your wounds now, then I’ll be on my way,” you reach into your doctor’s bag for a roll of wool bandages before making your way back to Lilia.

He glances up at you through long lashes as you position his arm out and begin to wrap his wound tightly.

“You’re not one for small talk, are you?” Lilia raises a questioning eyebrow, causing your hands to stop their movements as you look down at him with a similar expression.

“I’m busy. You’d be surprised how many gladiators I have to tend to in a day.”

“Oh, now that’s no fun,” Lilia tsks and pulls his arms away from your grasp, causing you to huff in protest. “I’ll let you re-bandage my arm if you’ll stay and chat with me for a while.”

You stay silent for a moment while your eyes flicker over Lilia’s handsome face. You were initially just trying to get a read of what his intentions are — after all, gladiators are regarded as sex symbols by many people. Maybe he thought you regarded him the same way.

But his ruby-like orbs are surprisingly clear and bright. They hold a certain glint of innocence you don’t see very often in gladiators, if at all.

You sigh and cross your arms defiantly, “fine, I suppose I could spare you a few more minutes of my time. Now give me that arm back.”

“Great. Let’s start off with your name first,” Lilia smiles brightly, flashing his sharp canines when you shoot him a death glare, his body unmoving as he waits for your response.

“Y/n. My name is y/n,” you roll your eyes and hold a hand out, palm up.

“That’s a pretty cute name,” the gladiator leans back against the edge of a table and places his arm on top of your waiting hand. “I’m Lilia. Lilia Vanrouge.”

“I know who you are,” you mumble, hands busy unwrapping the bandage that’s slid down Lilia’s arm.

“But you didn’t know me personally before — now you do. So that means we’re friends now.”

You let out a short giggle and shake your head in amusement, “Lilia, you are the strangest gladiator I’ve ever met. You know most of them aren’t all that great at small talk either?”

“Well,” Lilia sighs dramatically as he gestures to his slender and toned body with his free hand, “I think it’s safe to say that I’m not like most of them.”

And unlike most gladiators, Lilia doesn’t spend every possible hour training in combat and preparing himself for future fights.

Instead, he exchanges his gladiator attire for a much more comfortable knee-length tunic before heading into the beautifully paved streets of the Pompeii Forum. His friend, Silver, trails closely behind him just in case the shorter male decides to cause more mischief than is necessary (which is often the case).

Townspeople of the lower-class could recognize Lilia almost immediately when he walked by them. His gladiator status aside, the man is incredibly attractive and youthful, and the pops of pink locks flowing with every breeze is sure to catch anyone’s eye.

Even tourists would stop mid-walk to gape at him.

He pays them no attention and continues walking, with his main destination being the Macellum where it was always his safest bet to find you.

From your brief conversation days earlier, he learned that your family owns a small shop inside the rectangular space. It’s where you spend most of your free time when the demand for doctors isn’t very high.

In the center of the plaza, underneath the shade of a round roof, Lilia finds you hard at work scaling fish.

He stands off to the side, patiently waiting for you to finish your task before he carefully approaches you, “excuse me. Y/n?”

“Yes?” you respond with a sweet voice, turning around to face the man before your smile is replaced with a look of surprise. “Oh— Lilia. H—hello.”

“You don’t look too happy to see me,” Lilia pouts, his puppy dog eyes gazing into yours.

“Don’t take that too personally. Smelling fish all day could make anyone cranky,” you sigh, running your forearm across your forehead to wipe at the sweat there. “How can I help you?”

“You can help me by sparing some of your time,” Lilia grins cheekily, his eyes trailing down to the piles of fish scales lying scattered around your feet. “And in exchange, I can help you with that.”

“Oh, no, thank you. I will not be responsible for Pompeii’s favorite gladiator losing a thumb.”

“I can scale a fish, thank you very much,” Lilia gasps in mock offense. He holds a hand out and gives you a pointed look, “trust me.”

“I’m not sure if I trust you that much yet. But you can stand here and watch,” you gently bump your elbow against the gladiator’s abdomen, causing him to take a step back.

“That’s a good call,” Silver breaks his silence to quietly mutter, though the shorter man beside him still hears it and shoots him an offended glare.

Usually, Lilia is a very stubborn man. He’d have annoyed anyone else to no end until they finally handed him the knife and allowed him to work — but he has an unexpected soft spot for you.

He complies with your wishes without complaint, standing quietly to the side and watching as you expertly scale fish after fish.

As focused as he is on you, Lilia can’t help but notice the man standing next to you that continuously shoots him curious looks. There isn’t an ounce of anger or jealousy radiating from him, so surely he wasn’t your lover; and he appeared much too young to be your father. Could he be your older brother, perhaps?

Lilia doesn’t have to wonder far longer before you notice what the man is doing and dare to flick his forehead, “Deuce, could you please stop staring?”

“But that’s Lilia. You know, the really famous Lilia,” Deuce whispers, though it was a poor attempt as the mentioned man could still hear him anyways.

“Yeah, that’s Lilia,” you laugh at the perplexed look on Deuce’s face. “The really famous gladiator who could definitely beat you in a fight. I think I heard of him from somewhere before.”

“Haha, very funny. What is he doing here—and why is he staring at you like that?”

“Beats me. Maybe I’m just far too charming and he’s here to profess his undying love for me,” you joke, suppressing another laugh at the horrified look on Deuce’s face.

“This is hardly the proper setting for a love confession.”

“Deuce, I was just joking. Stop making that face, you’re scaring all the customers away.”

“Then it’s a good thing that I’m here to attract more of them, right?” Lilia interjects, suddenly appearing between you and Deuce and causing the both of you to jolt in surprise. He smiles sweetly and offers the other man his hand, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Lilia, your future brother-in-law.”

You can only let out a short laugh while Deuce looks between you and the gladiator’s hand before deciding to shake it, “h-hi, I’m Deuce. Uh… I’m not y/n’s brother…”

“Oh, no? My apologies then,” Lilia grins, the expression on his face anything far from apologetic. He gestures to the forgotten man standing next to him, who had impressively managed to fall asleep standing straight up, “this here is my sleepy s—friend, Silver.”

“Is he actually asleep right now?” you question, gently poking at the man’s arm to get a response. “That’s pretty impressive; Sevens know I probably would fall over once my eyes close.”

“If you fall, I’ll be there to catch you, of course,” as if to demonstrate his words, Lilia places his hand at the small of your back and gives you a not-so-subtle wink. “Both literally and figuratively.”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

❥

“Lilia? You didn’t tell me that you had a fight today,” you rush over to the gladiator’s side when you unexpectedly spot him waiting outside the entrance to your home.

“I’m sorry. I was so sure that I did,” he smiles at you fondly while you busy yourself by examining his body for any more wounds besides the cut to his side.

“You said that the last time too. Liar,” you glare playfully at the man. “Come inside, I’ll take care of you.”

The gladiator follows you into your home, walking past the atrium and towards the garden where he’s had you tending to his wounds countless of times before.

He much prefers the intimacy your home provides over you having to come to the gladiator barracks where other gladiators could openly ogle you. Lilia has never told you that, but he likes to think that you know exactly what’s on his mind.

Once you’re situated at the center of the garden, Lilia lays his head on your lap, facing away from you to expose the cut on his side.

“You know,” you began, wringing out a wet cloth before beginning to clean off the dried blood on Lilia’s skin. “It’s really bad for you to be walking around with an open wound.”

“Well, it’s really bad for me to have you walking around the barracks. So you’ll just have to deal with this.”

“You do realize that you’re not the only gladiator that gets injured, right?” you raise an eyebrow when Lilia shoots you an unamused look. “I’m a doctor. I have to take care of them.”

Lilia sighs and presses his cheek further into the cloth of your tunic, “yeah, I know that. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Hm… is that… jealousy I sense?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you’re cute. But you don’t have to be jealous, Lilia,” you laugh and run your fingers through the gladiator’s black and pink locks. “Now could you please sit up? I need to wrap you up.”

It takes a few minutes longer than usual, but you finally finish wrapping Lilia’s abdomen with several layers of wool bandages. It would have been done sooner had the gladiator listened to your instructions to hold the end in place.

Perhaps that is a result of him becoming more comfortable around you, and you him.

Had it been when you first met, Lilia knows you wouldn’t hold back in sternly scolding him for not listening to you. Not that he would have listened to you anyways after that.

But now, whenever he teases you, you merely laugh and spare him playful glares. So how could he give in so easily when he enjoyed seeing your joy-filled face?

“You like me, don’t you?” Lilia asks, his lips spreading into a cheeky grin when you look at him like a deer in the headlights. “That’s why you told me I don’t have to be jealous.”

“Oh, your ego is larger than the Great Seven,” you roll your eyes at his question. “But fine. Yes, I said that because I have no interest in looking at other gladiators besides you.”

Lilia’s smile grows wider at your words. He reaches out to cup your cheeks and gently pulls you closer until your faces are nearly touching, “you know… I’ve grown quite fond of you, y/n. How would you feel about marrying me?”

“Oh? I wasn’t even aware that you were courting me this entire time,” you tease and earn your cheeks a firm squeeze.

“Don’t be such a tease, I’m being serious! If you will accept me, I will go talk to your family right away. But I won’t go to them first because yours is the only opinion I value,” Lilia speaks earnestly as he looks into your eyes. “Y/n, I’ll promise to protect you from now on. I will care for you and love you for as long as my heart continues to beat — for as long as you’ll allow me to. If you’ll allow me to.”

You’re rendered speechless by how suddenly the mood shifts to a serious one. Lilia shows no signs of his words being a joke, only his eyes moving to search your heated face for an answer.

“Is your silence a no?” Lilia asks hesitantly, his grip on you loosening the tiniest bit. “You can say no. I’m a tough man and I can take it.”

“What? N—no. I mean— not ‘no’ to your question. I mean no to me saying no,” you try to shake your head, but Lilia’s hands keep you in place. “So… yes.”

The gladiator chuckles in amusement, for he’s never seen you so flustered before, “alright.”

“You know, I—I didn’t expect for you to be this romantic,” you narrow your eyes suspiciously.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting to profess my undying love today but here we are.”

“So you’d like to take it back?”

“Not at all.”

“Yeah, we’ll see if you’re going to say the same thing once my father kicks your ass,” you roll your eyes.

But, unlike what you expected, your father did not kick the gladiator’s ass.

There wasn’t even a passive aggressive comment made or voices raised when Lilia finally approached him as the pater familias for your hand in marriage.

Even if he had, it would be difficult for your father to refuse a proposal from such a beloved gladiator — if you’d planned to refuse him at all. It’s not as if he was of bad character either, and that’s been proven when your father was informed that Lilia came to you before coming to him.

“I won’t oppose it if that’s what you want,” your father sighs, his arms crossed and eyes burning holes into Lilia’s face. “But if you don’t take good care of y/n, I’ll kill you myself.”

“Oh, stop it. That won’t be a problem, father,” you try to reassure the man and move to embrace him tightly.

“I’m just making sure that he knows,” your father pats your back and offers you a soft smile when you release him from your hold.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of them, or else I’m not a man at all.”

That same night, you left your family home in exchange for Lilia’s home — which you thankfully discover is not the gladiator barracks.

You’d decided to be married by usus, a plebeian marriage that is recognized by a long cohabitation period of one year.

Though it is not as favorable as a marriage that begins ceremoniously in the eyes of most, you couldn’t be more content by it. You were never a big fan of ceremonies anyways.

❥

You moved into Lilia’s home approximately a week before the peak of Mount Vesuvius exploded.

Although a week together isn’t a long time by most people’s measure, it was a week that was filled with only happiness and love.

It was the week that you discovered that you were a better swimmer than Lilia and learned that he was a sore loser. That same day, you also learned that Lilia’s bruised ego could easily be healed by peppered kisses along his face.

It was the week that you planned a small dinner party, and Lilia had invited his friends to come meet you when you only expected Deuce and Silver to show up.

You’ve never met a more energetic and loud group of friends; though the volume was mainly contributed by a certain green-head named Sebek who you learn constantly speaks in an almost-yell way.

It was the week that Lilia fought in his final fight which began with him publicly declaring his love for you and ended with him claiming a victory. Your face had heated up profusely when he yelled out your name and it echoed throughout the Colosseum Arena.

Then the next day, Mount Vesuvius erupts.

“Oh, here comes another tremor,” you mutter to yourself, bracing your body in a doorway as the ground shakes beneath your feet.

It takes a long moment for the tremor to finally settle down and you decide it was safe enough to move. You walk over to the garden, where Lilia and his friends are nonchalantly throwing grapes at one-another.

“Are none of you concerned about how frequently the ground has been shaking?” you ask with a small frown.

You take a seat on the floor next to Lilia before the gladiator wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in closer.

“They’re normal, darling. Why are you so worried?” Lilia looks at you with a kind smile and presses a kiss to your temple.

“I’m only worried because of the explosions we heard earlier. I don’t have a good feeling about it.”

“Maybe someone’s home collapsed because of the earthquakes,” Silver offers up an alternative, smiling gently to convey his understanding of your concerns.

“Maybe. You’re probably right.”

It’s a reasonable explanation — one that you try to talk yourself into believing because earthquakes are nothing short of normal in Pompeii.

But while Lilia and his friends occupy themselves with small talk and board games, you keep your eyes to the sky. You notice something that is most definitely not normal in Pompeii, not even for the cloudiest day.

As if someone flipped a light switch, Pompeii is suddenly covered in utter darkness.

A light shower of volcanic ash begins to fall into the garden, and it quickly coats the floor with a thin layer of it.

The only positive note to the situation is that Lilia thinks quickly on his feet, even during stressful situations. He could sense that everyone in the room was starting to get restless and worried; he himself knows that there is something seriously wrong happening here.

“We have to leave— right now,” Lilia announces, causing everyone to quickly stumble to their feet as they’re told to.

“But where are we going?” you ask as you grasp Lilia’s hand in fear of losing sight of him.

He gives your hand a soft squeeze before pulling you towards the entrance to your shared home, “the coastline. If we have to evacuate, that’ll be our safest bet.”

“Evacuate?” you repeat the word to yourself. “Wait— Lilia, I have to find Deuce! I can’t leave him behind when he’s all by himself.”

“I’ll find him,” Lilia states firmly, holding his free hand up to stop you from protesting. “I promise I’ll find him and we’ll meet you at the coastline. But you have to promise me that you’ll follow my friends there first.”

If you weren’t so shaken up with feelings of anxiety and fear, you would have insisted on following Lilia. But you couldn’t think clearly anymore, you weren’t sure why the world seems like it’s suddenly crumbling all around you.

“You—you promise? You have to come back safely. Both you and Deuce.”

“I promise,” Lilia whispers as he cups your cheeks.

He pulls you into him and crashes your lips together into a passionate kiss that relays all the feelings of love and dread in his heart. You could feel his hands trembling against your skin and you wish you knew how to comfort him in that moment.

When Lilia finally breaks the kiss, he leaves you feeling breathless and unable to speak.

It was better that he didn’t hear you call out to him. If you did, he’d find it even harder to turn his back on you to fulfill his promise.

“Go. I’ll meet you guys there,” Lilia instructs his friends firmly before turning and running towards the opposite direction of the shoreline.

Even as Silver kindly urges you to follow them, you couldn’t take your eyes off Lilia’s retreating silhouette.

Who would have thought that, that would be your last memory of him?

Pairing: Riddle x GN!Reader Genre: Fluff

Everything about Riddle Rosehearts is almost perfect.

He’s handsome, kind, respectful, smart, and very well-spoken — but he takes nearly everything too seriously. That, of course, includes his work.

When you initially saw him at the company’s grand event for new hires, he could have easily fooled you for being an executive with the way he carries himself.

It comes as a surprise when you discover that not only will the two of you be working in the same department together, but you’re also the same age.

But it’s not like you obtained this information from the man himself. Instead, one of your seniors — an attractive young man named Cater Diamond who claims to have gone to college with Riddle — was the one to let you know.

“Are you interested in Riddle? I can call him over if you’d like,” Cater’s eyes hold a glimmer of mischief as he speaks of the offer.

You raise an eyebrow skeptically before sparing a glance towards the general direction you last saw Riddle disappearing into. You absentmindedly stir your vodka tonic with a straw and shake your head.

“No, thanks. A man like that has no interest in sitting around and talking to fresh meat like me,” you state plainly, causing Cater to chuckle in amusement.

“Oh, you’re misunderstanding him. Riddle’s great. Here, I’ll prove it,” Cater sits up straight and ignores your hushed pleas for him to stop whatever it is he was planning on doing. He cups his hands on either side of his mouth before calling out, “Riddleeee! Over hereeee!”

You shrink into yourself in embarrassment as most of the conversations around you cease. You could practically feel all the eyes burning curious holes into your figure, but thankfully the feeling doesn’t last for too long.

The sound of someone clearing their throat makes you correct your posture, and you find yourself face-to-face with Riddle Rosehearts once you’ve sat up properly.

“You didn’t have to yell to get my attention, Cater,” Riddle scolds the older man, but the latter doesn’t seem to mind the stern tone in his voice.

Cater rubs the back of his neck and offers the younger man an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, but you were all the way across the room. Anyways, have you met y/n yet?”

“Y/n?” Riddle questions, his head turning to follow the direction Cater’s hand is gesturing towards.

He meets your eyes just as you were about to turn away and hide. But since you’re caught in the act, you’re forced to offer him a tight-lipped smile and a small wave, “that would be me. Hi.”

“Hi, I’m Riddle Rosehearts,” the man holds a hand out for you to shake briefly.

“Nice to meet you,” you reply, the awkwardness of the situation making you sip at your vodka tonic just to keep yourself busy.

While Riddle turns back to a conversation with Cater, you shoot daggers at the latter that you hope conveys what a bad idea this turned out to be.

Needless to say, your first encounter with Riddle Rosehearts was anything but perfect. In fact, it felt so awkward that you decided to hide your face from his sight every chance you got.

But try as you might, it’s literally impossible for you to avoid the man when you’re working in the same department. The senior analyst (damn you, Cater) even has the two of you sitting next to each other.

On the bright side? It doesn’t seem like Riddle is a fan of small talk, so you don’t have to try too hard to avoid him.

In your work environment, Riddle is almost perfect.

He learns fast, and is always the first one to volunteer to take on new projects or suggest changes to make your jobs more efficient. But his relentless work ethic also causes him to work too many hours to the point that you wonder if he ever goes home and sleeps.

“Sevens— have your eye bags always been that bad?” Cater is the only one brave enough to bring the topic up to the younger man — and, predictably, Riddle looks unamused by the prodding.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. My eye bags are normal-sized,” Riddle says without taking his eyes off his computer screen.

“They’re the normal size for sleep deprived people,” Cater retorts with a roll of his eyes. When Riddle doesn’t reply, he decides to change targets and makes his way over to your cubicle. “Hi, y/n.”

“Hey. I haven’t seen you around in a while, Cater,” you hit “Save” on the spreadsheet you’ve been working on before turning your chair around to face said man. “Have you finally gotten tired of marketing?”

“Absolutely not! I am having the time of my life marketing away! Social media is my L-O-M-L,” Cater says in mock offense and a hand clutching his chest. “I just stopped by to say ‘hello’ to my dear friends in the Finance department.”

Riddle shoots Cater with a suspicious side eye. He’s not sure if his friend is acting strange because he’s interested in you or because he’s simply up to something else; years of friendship would tell Riddle that it’s the latter.

For who is Cater Diamond if he’s not trying to cause some sort of mischief for fun?

“I also have a favor to ask of you, y/n,” Cater smiles sheepishly as he leans down and lowers his voice to a whisper. “Could you make sure that Riddle leaves at a reasonable time today?”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion at the man’s request, “why can’t you do that?”

“Because I’m not the one who has a little crush on him,” Cater sing-songs before taking a step back to avoid your attempts to swat him.

“I do not have a crush on him. I barely know the guy, and—and he’s your friend,” you hiss out, careful to keep your voice’s volume low.

“And I don’t believe you! So will you do me this favor?”

You take a moment before giving Cater an answer. Your eyes trail to Riddle’s hunched over frame, where the light from his computer screen illuminates his face, and you can see that Cater’s right about his eye bags.

You sigh in defeat before nodding, “fine, I’ll try. But you know that he’s very stubborn.”

“Yeah, I know. Good luckkk,” Cater shoots finger guns at you and turns in a rush to leave your cubicle before he gets yelled at by a superior for slacking off. “See ya!”

You silently wave goodbye to Cater’s retreating figure before your shoulders slump down and you turn back to your computer screen.

You spend the next few minutes typing away on your keyboard, your mind too focused on making sure that the data and numbers you were entering is correct, that you don’t even notice Riddle’s presence besides you.

He clears his throat and you guess that’s his way of making his presence known to people. It’s not the most polite method, unlike the way you’d assume he’d address most people.

Could it be that he’s just not particularly fond of you?

“Yes?” you ask without sparing the man a glance.

“I’ll go home when you do today. So don’t worry about asking me to leave.”

“What?” you look at Riddle in confusion, unsure if you’d heard the man correctly.

“You’re both terrible at whispering,” the man chuckles at the horrified expression appearing on your face. “But since Cater asked you for a favor, he must actually be concerned about me. So I’ll leave early today.”

“Um… just how much of that conversation did you hear?” you ask in a hushed voice, your feature twisting as if you’re in pain.

“That depends. What else did you talk about besides that and your ‘little crush’ on me?” The smile Riddle offers you is sweet, and you can tell by the dash of pink on his cheeks that he doesn’t mean to tease you maliciously.

“I’m going to dig a hole in my backyard to lay in after work,” you nod absentmindedly as you mumble to yourself and turn your chair back in place.

Riddle laughs to himself and leaves your cubicle to return to his own; the absence of his presence allows you to finally let out a breath you were holding in.

You try to focus on your work, but the mental image of the man smiling at you feels like it’s permanently stamped onto your brain. He didn’t even smile when you were first introduced, but now that you’ve seen it, you’re even more smitten.

The remainder of the day’s work hours tick by at a snail’s pace. Every time you think you’ve been working for at least an hour, the computer clock would say it’s only been 5 minutes.

By the time Cater announced that it was time to leave, you feel as if you’ve aged a good ten years.

“Thank goodness,” you sigh as you stretch your arms out above your head, the stiff muscles of your back protesting as you move.

“Are you ready to go?” a voice asks above your head, causing you to jolt in surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Riddle? What are you doing here?” you ask when you turn your head to look at your unexpected visitor.

“I’m waiting for you to leave so I can leave too,” the man says his answer as if you should have known all along.

You laugh and stand up before collecting your messenger bag and slinging it across your chest, “you know you didn’t have to wait for me, right?”

“That’d be very rude of me,” Riddle waits until you appear to be ready to go before gesturing for you to walk ahead of him.

“No, it wouldn’t,” you laugh again and comply with the man’s wishes by making the first moves to leave your cubicle. “Well, maybe if we were friends, it’d be rude.”

“Aren’t we friends?”

Your eyes search Riddle’s face for any sign that would indicate he’s trying to pull your leg. But, as usual, Riddle is being serious.

“Would you consider me a friend?” you challenge once you’ve stepped inside an elevator and pressed the button to the building’s lobby.

“Sure. Any friend of Cater’s is a friend of mine’s,” Riddle says nonchalantly with a shrug.

“That didn’t sound convincing at all. If you want to be my friend, you’ll have to start doing things that friends would do.”

The elevator doors open with a loud ding and the two of you step out into the lobby to find that a light rainshower has begun to fall.

Riddle rummages through his backpack for the travel umbrella he keeps inside at all times for emergencies such as this. With the rose red bundle in hand, he’s about to exit the building when he realizes that you haven’t moved an inch since exiting the elevator.

“Y/n, I was serious: I’m not leaving until you do,” Riddle calls out for your attention, his arms crossed and his back pressed against the glass door of the entrance as you face him.

“The weather forecast didn’t say anything about rain today, so I didn’t bring an umbrella,” you confess as your ears begin to warm up from embarrassment.

“Do you walk home?”

“Yeah, I live nearby in those apartment complexes a couple blocks North from here.”

Riddle mentally pictures the nearby roads as you begin to explain them to him, using the landmarks you recognize to pinpoint where exactly your home would be before deciding that it shouldn’t be too long of a walk.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you home. Unless you prefer I wait here with you until this is over,” Riddle adds quickly before you could protest.

“No— let’s go home,” you smile gratefully as you quickly make your way over to him.

The man situates the umbrella above his head and waits for you to scurry over to his side before you start the short journey to your apartment building.

Your budding friendship with Riddle is almost perfect.

Despite your initial judgment, Riddle is actually someone who likes to smile and crack jokes a lot. He’s good at listening to your problems and giving advice when you ask for it — and on the same token, he knows exactly what to say to cheer you up when you’re upset.

The only problem with your friendship is that what started off as an infatuation with the man has turned to a full-blown crush.

“Hello, my precious friends!”

Oh, and also now Cater won’t leave the two of you alone during working hours.

“Cater… we literally just got here. How do you have so much energy already?” you groan as you pinch the bridge of your nose in an attempt to fight back an oncoming headache.

“Are you alright?” Riddle asks, the concern clear in his voice when he notices the pained look on your face.

“Yeah, I just haven’t had my coffee yet,” you offer Riddle as wide a smile as you could muster up in the moment. “Thanks for asking.”

“Of course,” Riddle smiles brightly at you before it quickly disappears when he turns his attention back to Cater. “Go. Shoo before I have your head. We’ll see you for lunch.”

“Sheesh, it’s been a while since you’ve said that. It’s still scary… G-2-G!”

With that, Cater scurries away towards his own department and leaves the two of you to wordlessly turn to your computers.

Every adult has their own daily routines, and somehow you’ve made yours around the two least likely friends you could have made.

You’re grateful for their presence though, and especially for Cater’s outgoing personality — no matter how annoying he could get sometimes — because you would have been too shy and awkward to reach out to anyone first.

Another plus? Work goes by so much faster when you have something to look forward to for lunch hours and after work hours.

None of you like to leave the building in search of better food than the menus served in the company’s cafeteria. So, at 1:00 P.M. sharp, you always meet up at the basement floor to debate what is and isn’t going to give you food poisoning.

The safest bet? An egg salad sandwich and a bag of chips.

“I don’t know why you subject yourself to this mediocre food, Riddle. You’re the only one out of the three of us who can actually cook,” you jokingly comment once you’ve found an empty table to sit at.

“He’s let you try his food before?” Cater asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

“No, but it always smelled good when he brought it in the past. Wait— is that weird to say? I’m sorry if it’s weird,” you grimace, but Riddle chuckles at your comment and shakes his head.

“It’s not weird, don’t worry. I just haven’t had enough time to cook in advance with all the extra hours I’ve been working.”

“You know that those hours are optional and you really should go home and get some sleep— right?”

“There’s no use in trying to convince him, y/n,” Cater cuts into the conversation with a cheeky grin. “But since Riddle’s too busy, I’ll spend time with you instead! We can learn how to cook together.”

You squint your eyes at the mischievous man and before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “why would I want to do that?”

“Ouch,” Cater gasps dramatically as he falls back on his chair and clutches his chest.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Could it be because…” Cater leans forward on the table clearly unphased and fake whispers, “you’re interested in someone else?”

You could practically see Riddle’s ears perk up at Cater’s words and you wave your hands frantically to dismiss the accusation.

“Wh— I’m not— I’m not interested in anyone,” you stammer out, hoping your burning cheeks don’t betray how flustered you are.

You miss the way Riddle’s face briefly falls in disappointment, but Cater doesn’t. It’s like that was the light switch that turned a light bulb on inside his head and he suddenly places his hands over yours.

“Then you can’t say no to going on a date with me!”

“Y—yes, I can,” you protest, but it comes out sounding more like a question.

You know that the man has no romantic interest in you, so you’re not sure where this request for a date came from. But with the determined look on his face and a familiar glint in his green orbs, you know that he’s up to some sort of mischief again.

“Fine, we can learn how to cook together. If that’s what you mean by ‘a date’,” you sigh and pull your hands away from Cater’s grasp.

“Great!” Cater exclaims and shoots Riddle an innocent smile, “we can do that after you walk Riddle home today.”

“Is it really necessary to appoint y/n as my chaperone?” Riddle finally speaks up with a hint of annoyance to his voice.

You’re caught off guard by the tone of his voice. You’ve never known Riddle to be someone who could get upset or annoyed easily, but you suppose you don’t know everything about him.

Besides, getting cranky is a side effect of being sleep deprived — or so Mr. Google would have you believe.

“I’ll walk you home, I don’t mind,” you meet Riddle’s tired eyes and smile softly. “And just like last time, I won’t take no for an answer so don’t even try it.”

“Okay, fine,” Riddle smiles half-heartedly and shoves the remnants of his egg salad sandwich back into its ziplock bag. “I’ll try to finish early so you won’t be late for your… date.”

You and Cater exchange glances, yours filled with confusion and his filled with smugness; looks like his hunch may be right after all.

After knowing the man for a decent amount of time, you still think that Riddle Rosehearts is almost perfect.

He’s a diligent worker and a wonderful friend, but you can never guess what’s on his mind — nor is he ever vocal about his feelings.

Well, you suppose that might be seen as a strength in some people’s eyes.

After lunch, you could tell that something was bugging Riddle. He didn’t spare you a glance for the rest of the day until it was time for you to go home — and even then, he barely spoke a word as you rode the elevator down to the lobby.

“It’s raining again,” Riddle comments while rummaging through his backpack. “But don’t worry, I… I have my umbrella? I can’t find it— what?”

He looks up when you poke at his shoulder and see a familiar rose red bundle in your hand. His eyes widen in surprise at the sight of his umbrella in your possession, “I don’t remember leaving that with you.”

“It’s not yours, actually,” you correct him with a gentle smile. “We just happen to have the same colored umbrella.”

“Small world. I must have left mine drying at home,” he readjusts his backpack, stepping aside to let you exit the building first and open your umbrella.

“That was over a week ago, Riddle.”

“Did I mention I have a bad memory?” you give Riddle a look of disbelief, knowing that no one with bad memory would be able to remember 810 rules and still remember them well after finishing school.

“I have a bad memory too, but apparently not as bad as yours,” you joke, poking the man at his side.

Riddle hums and stares at the sidewalk ahead, ears growing red from the feeling of your unwavering eyes on him. For a few minutes, you walk in silence, the only sound being the rain gently pattering on the nylon material of the umbrella.

Every now and then, Riddle would steal glances at you. It’s not the first time he’s done it. Even at work, he couldn’t help stealing glances at you.

He was never sure of what the reason for that could be — until he listened to you accept to go on a date with his friend.

Instead of being happy for the two of you, he felt jealous; jealous that Cater had the courage to ask you out and jealous that you accepted.

But did he have any right to feel jealous when he knew you were interested in him before — and he didn’t make a single move then?

Maybe he could change that now.

“Would… would your memory be bad enough to forget that you have a date with Cater tonight?” Riddle hesitantly asks, his voice almost too quiet for you to hear him over the rain.

“I don’t need a bad memory to forget about that. No offense to Cater. He’s great and all, but…” your voice trails off before you bite on your bottom lip to keep yourself from elaborating.

“But?”

“Oh, no, mister. You tell me why you’re bringing up Cater when we both know he was definitely just pulling my leg earlier.”

“Well,” Riddle breathes out, face beginning to turn the same shade of red as his hair, “he was definitely pulling mine too.”

“What do you mean?”

The two of you stop walking when you reach an all-way stop and Riddle turns to you with his lips pressed into a thin line. He appears to be deep in thought and you know better than to interrupt him in the middle of it.

“I think— no, I know. I like you,” Riddle blurts out before he could talk himself out of it.

“Like… as a friend?” you question and grip the strap of your bag tightly.

“No, as more than a friend. And I can’t believe Cater was the one that made me realize that,” Riddle laughs shortly.

“Oh, well, I—I like you too,” you can’t help but giggle nervously after your confession.

“So, that means it’s not too late for me to ask you out on a coffee date?”

“No, Riddle, it’s not too late,” You take a step towards the man and, after mustering up all the courage you have, lean in to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’d love to go on a coffee date with you.”

Pairing: Ace x GN!Reader Genre: Fluff

Beep, beep. Beep, beep. Beep, beep.

You turn over in your half-awake state, one eye peeling open with much effort after having been woken up in the midst of a deep sleep. The room is dark, save for the crack of light coming from where your phone now silently lays face down beside your head.

You prop yourself up on a forearm after a moment of contemplation. Maybe it was something important or an emergency, considering how late the caller decided to ring you up.

But upon further inspection, you see that you have a missed call from none other than your best friend, Ace. And not just one or two calls either.

No wonder you woke up. Your phone must have been ringing for at least two minutes straight.

You squint your eyes against the bright light of your phone when another call goes through. Your index finger quickly slides the small switch on the side to silent before your ringtone could blast through the quiet ambiance of your room again.

“Hello? Ace, are you okay?” you press the phone to your ear and ask before your friend could speak.

“Were you asleep?” Ace’s hushed voice asks when he takes notice of how hoarse yours sounds. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Don’t lie. Yes, you did,” you chuckle at his statement with a shake of your head. Actions speak louder than words, especially when over a handful of missed calls means he was definitely trying to get your attention. “But it’s fine, I don’t mind. Are you okay though?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Ace confirms.

There’s a long pause before either of you speaks again.

You readjust your position under the warmth of your thick comforter and lay on your side so your head could hold your phone in place against the pillow.

You could hear Ace’s gentle breathing coming from the other line as if he had fallen asleep. The sound is comforting. Something you’ve grown accustomed to after months of falling asleep on the phone together.

“I—”

“Wh—”

“Oh, sorry—”

“Sorry, go ah—”

You let out short bursts of giggles upon interrupting each other.

“No, I’m sorry. You go first. Are you finally going to tell me why you’re calling at this ungodly hour?” there’s a playful tone to your voice, one that lets Ace know that you’re not actually upset that he woke you up in the middle of the night. It’s always nice to hear from him; especially when he lives halfway across Twisted Wonderland for work now.

“First of all, you’re usually up at this time,” Ace snorts and you can practically see him rolling his eyes. “Second of all, I missed my best friend. We haven’t talked all week.”

“And that’s because you were busy celebrating the holidays with your family, remember?” you roll over in bed, shifting again until you’re sitting up with your back pressed against the pillow.

Then you’re met with silence. Mostly because Ace knows that you’re right and has no rebuttal for the fact.

You take the opportunity to press the speakers button and place your phone on your lap before your gaze trails towards the large window beside you. It’s nearly a full moon tonight, the opened curtains allowing the beautiful orb to cast gentle moonlight into your room.

“You’re not doing anything right now, right?” Ace questions as if he hadn’t just woken you up mere minutes before. “That means you can sleep in later so come meet me outside.”

You snort and shake your head, “yeah, let me just walk about a thousand miles to see you real quick. I’ll see you real soon.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Ace fake laughs into the phone. “I mean it: I’m outside your apartment complex right now.”

“You what?” you immediately sit up straight, your eyes scanning what little of the outside world you could see from your third-level room in search of Ace. “I swear to God if you’re just joking…”

“I’m not. I even brought snacks,” Ace laughs, a genuine one that sounds like bells delightfully ringing in your ears, and you can hear the rustling of plastic bags accompanying it. “So come outside. I’ll wait for you.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you grab your phone and kick the comforter off.

Reblog if you're gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, transgender or a supporter.

This should be reblogged by everyone. Even if you’re straight, you should be a supporter.