Latest Posts by zworllyx - Page 2

oh my gawh 😭

tags : fem!reader, fluff, spoilers about wriothesley's past

thinking about how much of an honour it must be to marry wriothesley. be his wife. be his family. bear his children. you're telling me that he never got to grow up in a loving family, have healthy relationships with his parents and siblings, share his worries as well as his happiness with someone, but you, you get to show him all the love that he has missed in his life? you have the honour to let him feel homeliness?

you're his first home. a home that makes him look forward to actually return to after finishing work in his office. you're his first "welcome home", his first warm meal after a long day, his first "you tired? how about i draw you a bath?". there are so many things that he learns thanks to you. loyalty, mutual trust, honesty. because wriothesley has never been a liar, yet being honest doesn't end at telling the truth. it goes way beyond that. it is talking about shitty paperwork, about how enjoyable a lunch with sigewinne is, how difficult it is to sleep when having recurring negative thoughts about yourself and your past. honesty is opening up, and you get to be the first person wriothesley truly opens up to.

and when you've made his heart swell with so much love that it feels like it is beyond its capacity. when you put his large, rough hand over the softness of your stomach and look at him with teary eyes and a bright smile on your face. wriothesley realises that there is yet so much more that he has to learn. so many more firsts that he has to experience, but at least he'll be able to share them with you.

yeah, being someone's first lover, someone's first kiss, someone's first sex partner- all of those things are great, really.

but being someone's first family is just so- wow.

Another ones ehe

If you wonder, shes from liyue and is cryo too (maybe I'll make a post talking about her ^^)

Another ones ehe

If you wonder, shes from liyue and is cryo too (maybe I'll make a post talking about her ^^)

hehe, Im already interested to read this ^^

Prologue

pairing: Wriothesley x f! reader

trigger warnings: violence, blood, murder, imprisonment, suggestive, ptsd, mentions of child abuse

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The streets of Fontaine were bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun, casting long shadows and giving the city an almost ethereal glow. The meeting with the Iudex of Fontaine in Palais Mermonia had been as expected—tense and bureaucratic. Discussions about the affairs related to Meropide were never easy, but the Duke was thankful for the cooperation and support he often received from Monsieur Neuvillette.

Wriothesley’s heavy footsteps echoed against the cobblestones.  He rarely ventured to the surface, but duty had called. Now, as the golden hues of the setting sun bathed the city in a warm glow, he made his way through the bustling streets of Fontaine. The surface world, with its vibrant life and spectacle, always felt a world apart from the fortress he governed.

He exhaled slowly, a sigh mingling with the evening breeze, as his thoughts drifted to the faces of the prisoners. Each one had a story, a past, and sometimes, Wriothesley wondered if he would ever truly understand morality as a whole. Lost in contemplation, he barely noticed the few passersby giving him a wide berth, recognizing the emblem of his station and the aura of authority he carried. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he navigated through the throng of people.

He barely registered the world around him until a sudden impact jolted him from his thoughts. He had collided with someone, and the force of it sent them both stumbling.

“Oh, for the love of–!” The exasperated voice brought him back to the present. He looked down to see a young woman picking herself off the ground, brushing the dust from her garments. Her eyes, alight with irritation, met his, and she frowned deeply.

“Watch where you’re going, will you?” she snapped, not caring that he towered over her. Wriothesley found himself momentarily speechless. The setting sun framed her face, casting a radiant glow that highlighted her delicate features. Her beauty struck him, the kind that seemed to draw the light towards her, making her skin glow and her eyes sparkle with an inner fire.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he managed to say, his voice softer than usual. He noticed then the bouquet of flowers scattered on the ground, petals crushed and stems broken. Flowers? A curious pang of disappointment twisted in his chest. Did she have a suitor already?

"You should be more careful! It is a busy street!" she retorted, dusting off the last of the debris. Her eyes darted to the ground where a bouquet of flowers. "Great, just great. Now I have to remake this bouquet and I'll be late for the delivery."

Wriothesley watched as she hurriedly gathered the damaged flowers, her frustration evident. She handled the blooms with a surprising tenderness, and he felt an inexplicable urge to assist her.

"Let me help you," he offered, kneeling to pick up a few of the scattered flowers.

“These were for a customer,” she explained, kneeling down to gather the remnants of the bouquet. “A difficult one at that.” She sighed, still irritated. Her hands moved with a practiced grace, but there was a hint of urgency in her actions.

“I’m really sorry about that,” Wriothesley repeated, a hint of guilt creeping into his tone. He handed the flowers he’d picked to her and she was already on her feet, clutching the ruined bouquet.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, her irritation giving way to resignation. “I’ll just have to work faster.” She offered him a brief, distracted smile, more out of politeness than anything else, before dashing off down the street, leaving him standing there.

Wriothesley watched her go, her figure soon swallowed by the crowd. He stood there for a moment longer, the noise of Fontaine’s streets fading into the background. The warmth of the setting sun lingered on his skin, but the encounter had left a different kind of warmth in his heart. He absentmindedly reached up to adjust his collar and felt something unusual. Pulling it free, he found a petal of a red poppy flower nestled in the fabric. He held it between his fingers, its vivid color a stark contrast to the muted tones of his attire. The petal, delicate and vibrant, seemed to carry a weight of its own, leaving him with a sense of unease. With a final glance at the direction she had gone, Wriothesley turned and continued his walk, his thoughts no longer solely occupied by the fortress of Meropide. The image of her fiery eyes and the way the sunlight had kissed her features stayed with him. He resumed his journey back to Meropide, the image of the spirited florist and the red poppy petal lingering on his mind.

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welp, first post here (officialy) yay :D

Just a doodle I made past midnight a few days ago ':) (I was wondering if posting this or not ;-;)

Kyubi (one of my gi ocs) hehe

A SMOOTH CRIMINAL

⋆｡˚ ❀ pairing: wriothesley x gn!reader ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.4k ⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: you play a harmless prank on your close friend, neuvillette, and he decides to retaliate by sending you to the fortress of meropide for your so-called “crimes” 

You weren’t exactly a hardened criminal. 

Sure you had some bouts of harmless thievery as a child but even then you always returned the item to the owner out of guilt. So, how you got sent to the Fortress of Meropide for messing with your friend was beyond you.

Naturally, it just so happened that your friend was the Chief Justice, and your little prank happened to be pouring out an entire salt shaker into his water as he took a small trip to the restroom. But in your defense, Neuvillette had ordered the last La Lettre a Focalors on the menu and wouldn’t even share a bite with you. 

You huffed at the memory. Salty water was too kind of a punishment, looking back at it. 

Still, you didn’t expect such a petty thing would have you branded as a criminal. If you had known, you would’ve added the contents of the nearby pepper shaker into Neuvillette’s water as well. That way, this sentence would have at least felt more justified. 

After your paperwork was processed, Madeline told you to enter the lift and wait for someone to give you a tour. This would be your new home for a whole…seven days. You hoped you could survive it. 

You tapped your foot as you waiting for your tour guide, eyes scanning across the dark, metallic room. Despite the dim lighting, the Fortress sounded more lively than you would have expected.

Just as you were starting to grow impatient, you spotted a familiar figure walking your way.

Wriothesley, you recognized. You had a brief run-in with him only one before in your life— When you were hanging out in Neuvillette’s office waiting for him to finish the last of his work, when Wriothesley decided to pay the Iudex a surprise visit. Judging from the amused expression on his face, it would seem he remembered you too.

Now, whether it was a good or bad memory, you couldn’t exactly say. Though, for the sake of your time here, you sure hoped it was the former. 

“Prisoner 8072,” he greeted with a chuckle.

You waved sheepishly. “That’s me, reporting for duty, sir.” 

“At ease, solider.”

You rolled your eyes, secretly please he went along with your antics. 

He beckoned you to follow him as he began to show you around the fortress. “Now, before we start the tour, would you like to tell me how you landed here?” 

With an innocent look on your face, you shrugged.

Wriothesley raised his brow expectantly. “My sources tell me it was an attempted poison of the Iudex.” 

Your jaw dropped. “Is that what Neuvillette is telling people?!”

“Just me,” he admitted. 

You almost laughed in disbelief. “Well, it’s a little too late to defend myself now—not that I had a fair trial in the first place, mind you—but I at least have to say that poison the Chief Justice speaks of is measly table salt!” With a huff, you folded your arms across your chest. “Powerful Dragon of Water my ass… If he thinks table salt can poison him…”

Wriothesley chuckled at your pouting, patting your shoulder as a sign of sympathy. “For a week-long sentence, I would have expected that you put pepper in there as well.” 

Your eyes lit up. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking!”

He nodded in agreement, humoring you as he showed you to the cafeteria, offering you a free meal that you graciously accepted.

“While a week-long sentence may be unjust for your the level of your…misdemeanor, I do still hope you can enjoy your stay here,” he said as the two of you finished up your food. 

You considered your thoughts before stating, “I might. If you keep treating me to these free meals.” 

Wriothesley laughed, the noise coming deep from his chest, and you grinned in return. 

“Oh, what would the other prisoners think if they saw their duke playing favorites?” he said in mock despair.

“So you admit I’m already your favorite?”

“Do you find pleasure in putting words in my mouth?”

“Amongst other things.” 

His eyes widened and you flushed as you realized the implication of what you had said.

“Salty water,” you clarified as you cleared your throat. “That is all I was referring to.” 

He nodded solemnly, trying his hardest to keep a straight face. “Of course. Words and salty water.”

“Exactly.”

“Noted.” After a brief pause, Wriothesley quickly changed the subject. “Before I lead you to your dormitory, let me show you my office.” 

You followed along dutifully, making sure your mouth was glued shut until the embarrassment wore off. When the door closed, he beckoned for you to have a seat on the chair in front of his desk.

“To earn your keep here, we use a currency called Credit Coupons,” he explained. “Now, typically, the most steady and secure way for an inmate to earn these is by working in the production line–heating an shaping metals. A physically demanding job even for the strongest of individuals.”

You almost broke out into a sweat at the thought. Neuvillette would definitely be getting an earful from you once you were free from this injustice. 

Wriothesley laughed at the horrified look on your face.

“But luckily for you,” he said, “by special order from the Iudex himself, it was request you do administrative work in the office with me instead.”

“Oh, my gods,” you sighed in relief. Neuvillette was safe for now. 

“Don’t get too excited yet,” he warned with a teasing lilt to his voice. “Are you sure it’s better to be trapped in here with me for seven days than to brave the production line?” 

You quirked your head to the side. “You seem friendly enough.” 

“I’m glad you think so.” He stood up from his chair, pushing it in and waiting for you to follow suit. “Though brief, I look forward to working with you.” 

“You as well.”

He nodded. “Now, it is getting late. Allow me to me conclude this tour by showing you the dormitories.” 

The thought of seeing your new bed for the week excited you. You were tired from walking around so much and you couldn’t wait to shower and collapse on a mattress—no matter how thin it may be. 

Wriothesley dropped you off at the door of your room, watching as you examined the place. You blinked slowly. 

He laughed. “Not to your liking?” 

“I’ve seen hotel rooms that look worse,” you said while shaking your head. “I can manage!” 

“If it is too uncomfortable, don’t hesitate to let me know. Perhaps I can provide you with some special accommodations.”

You hid a smile. “Such favoritism already. Is this what being friends with the Chief Justice does for you here?” 

“Connections don’t quell you any favor in this part of Fontaine,” he said. “This treatment is based on your own merit.” He paused. “And the fact that the Iudex specified that he didn’t intend for this to be a genuine prison sentence.”

You almost snorted at the revelation, the pieces clicking together. “Is this his prank in retaliation for me adding salt to his water?!” you groaned, only upset because you didn’t think of this first. “What an abuse of power.”

Wriothesley chuckled. “Such is the life.”

As he got ready to leave you to your bed quarters for the night, he paused at the exit. You looked at him expectantly. 

“Did you need something?”

He shook his head. “No, not at the moment. I only wanted to say, I look forward to your assistance around the office tomorrow.”

You smiled in agreement. Who wouldn’t want a break from real life and escape to a prison ruled by a surprisingly benevolent duke? 

“Also—“ you looked up to see his sideways grin “—tomorrow’s breakfast is on me.”

With a chuckle, you found yourself agreeing to his offer. “I’ll look forward to the morning then.”

“Have a good night in your temporary home.”

As Wriothesley left the dormitory, you couldn’t shake the smile from your face. If you were going to be here for a week, you might as well make the most of it. At least with the Duke, your time wouldn’t be so bad. 

Maybe even after your sentence, you would still come and visit him.

You closed your eyes as your head landed on your pillow. It was harder than you expected. Quite uncomfortable, actually. You made a face. 

Perhaps Wriothesley could come up and visit you when this was over instead. 

This is Money Snake. She only appears every 312 years. 

If you reblog her picture within the next twenty-five seconds you will have good luck and fortune for the rest of your life. 

This was so good...!! (I already imagine how elegant reader and wrio looked :'D)

Oh, the man he is... (Wriothesley x Reader)

Wriothesley x fem!reader; fluff, shared feelings, implied mutual pining or some sorts + Sigewinne, Furina, Neuvillette appeared as cameos!

You had agreed to extend your work in the Fortress, much to Wriothesley’s delight. However, recently, he found it harder and harder to spend time with you, and it left him feeling restless.

((The story is a sequel of my previous fic here! Although you can always read it separately, the build-up is somewhat connected to the previous one))

Words: 3.1k

Notes: 

I’ve always wanted to do the continuation of my previous stories, but I clearly went overboard for this one since I didn’t plan this to be this long. But, I mean, it’s Wriothesley, who could resist? ;) and don't judge the title pls HELP

Enjoy the story!

•~•~•~•

No, Wriothesley wasn't a jealous man.

As a responsible warden of the fortress, he remained focused on his professional duties, fully acknowledging the demands they entailed.

However, ever since you’ve agreed to extend your work at the Fortress of Meropide—with Neuvillette’s permission, of course, Wriothesley had unconsciously developed a habit of seeking you out—whether it was to hand you some documents or simply to ask about your day. 

Yet, it had been a week since he had a proper conversation with you, since the conflicting work schedules you two had left little time to spend with each other. And somehow, it was starting to bother Wriothesley more than it should. 

Wriothesley exhaled as he stood up from his office seat, leaving piles of documents sprawled on his desk. Despite his usual preference for lunching in his office, he found himself walking towards the cafeteria.

As he approached the bustling cafeteria, his hopes lifted momentarily when he saw you already seated, only to deflate when he spotted you already seated… with another young man in front of you. 

Oh. He thought to himself.

In that moment, he recalled that your latest work involved cooperation with some of the fortress’ members. Right, it was business matters and he’s the Duke of Meropide, he got nothing to worry about, right? 

So, he greeted you, asked about your day, and went back to his office.

•~•~•~•

Wriothesley surely wasn’t a jealous man...

Another day, he discovered that you were done for the day as your work for the day was finished. He was just about to step out of his office to search for you when, to his surprise, you appeared right in front of the office doors. What luck, he thought to himself. However, your sheepish smile hinted at something else.

“Oh, hi, um— I’m here to tell you that I won’t be here for the weekend.”

His plans to ask you out crumbled inside his head.

“Oh, you got called in by the court?”

“No, but I’ve got other things to do,” you replied as you gave him an apologetic smile. “Is that okay?”

Well, he couldn't just outright refuse; after all, you deserved a break too. However, his mind raced, wondering about the nature of the 'other things' you had mentioned. Was it work-related? Or perhaps it was something more private?

"Of course, don’t worry about it," Wriothesley reassured you with a smile, trying to bury his own thoughts as he mentally cursed himself for his train of thought. "I'll see you next Monday then."

You thanked him and went off. He sighed, hoping that you would be available for the weekend so he could at least ask you out. But for now, he would have to wait.

•~•~•~•

Wriothesley definitely wasn’t the jealous type... or so he believed.

But lately, he couldn't shake this nagging feeling of restlessness. You seemed busier than ever, going back and forth between the surface and the fortress. And, to make matters worse, you were spending less time with him compared to a certain assistant. This young man had been assisting you in the latest case at the fortress, and he seemed to be handling it well. In fact, it was Wriothesley himself who suggested you to appoint an assistant in order to lighten your workload—as you seemed to have some business to take care of on the surface, only to find himself now competing for your attention.

It was like his own idea to help you had turned against him, backfiring in the most frustratingly ironic way possible. 

Massaging his temples, Wriothesley groaned as his thoughts swirled in his head.

“Feeling unwell, Your Grace?” Sigewinne's soft and cheery voice interrupted his brooding as she entered his office, carrying documents from the infirmary.

“Oh, Sigewinne, it’s nothing,” Wriothesley exhaled. “Thanks for the documents though.”

“If you’re wondering about y/n, she’s already gone to the surface,” Sigewinne said softly, yet, her tone masking a hint of mischief.

Wriothesley sighed in defeat. “Right, the event tomorrow. I figured she'd be attending.”

“Didn't she tell you?” Sigewinne asked innocently.

Oof.

Wriothesley fell silent, then replied, “No, but I had a hunch.”

“I saw her heading to the surface with Antonio—the assistant, did I get his name right? I heard there’s a ball in the event, right? Maybe they’re preparing for it,” Sigewinne added, her smile widening just a bit, her eyes anticipating his reaction. 

Wriothesley lifted his head to stare at Sigewinne, at a loss for words.

Wait, were you actually planning on dancing together with Antonio?

She giggled innocently at his reaction before continuing.

“But you’ll be there too, Your Grace. And for security reasons, I don’t see any problem,” she chirped, her amusement evident in her voice.

With a grumble, Wriothesley stood up and headed straight to his room. “Security reasons, right… I’ll need to think about tomorrow's outfit then…”

Sigewinne watched him go, giggling softly to herself.

“Racing hearts, rising blood pressure, uneasiness. Yep, those are the physical symptoms of jealousy, alright,” Sigewinne mused to herself.

“Human emotions are truly interesting.”

•~•~•~•

You stared at the dress laying on top of your bed at your dwelling in the surface, mentally preparing yourself up with confidence to wear it for the event tomorrow. In fact, Furina had picked the dress together with you. Classy, beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous; was what she commented. But honestly, when was the last time you'd slipped into something so elegant? 

As you lay back on your bed, your mind wandered over the events of the past few weeks.

--few weeks before--

“A… ball, you said?” 

"Yes, in fact, Lady Furina will be hosting the event. And we are expected to attend as representatives from the court," Neuvillette explained, his tone as flat as ever. Beside him, Lady Furina nodded eagerly. “The ball will pose as the closing ceremony.”

"Ah, I see... so the event about three weeks away," you replied, your confidence faltering slightly. "To be honest, I'm not exactly skilled at dancing..."

"Oh, nonsense! A Fontainian lady must know how to dance!" Lady Furina interjected, her voice brimming with determination. "Fear not! I'll personally train you at least twice a week until the ball. How does that sound?"

You swallowed nervously, anticipating her rigorous training methods. You glanced to Neuvillette, only to found him nodding in agreement. 

"Um... alright, thank you for the offer, Lady Furina. I'll try to make time during the weekends."

"Excellent! It's settled then!" Lady Furina exclaimed with a wide smile, her hand clasped in front of his chest. "Meet me in front of my house this weekend!"

You closed your eyes, recalling the training sessions with Furina as you tried to gather your confidence for tomorrow. Although you could safely say you were doing okay-ish with the training, your mind kept wandering back to a certain man in the fortress, leaving you longing for the interactions you shared with him.

•~•~•~•

The next evening, the venue began to fill with people, the atmosphere bustling with liveliness. You positioned yourself near the Palais Mermonia members, keeping Neuvillette in your sight as you glanced over at Furina, who was already engaged in conversation with other people.

As you talked with various guests, your thoughts often drifted to whether Wriothesley would attend the ball. The idea of dancing with him crossed your mind, but so far, he was nowhere to be seen.

Come to think of it, you hadn’t told him a thing about your secret dancing lessons. 

“You haven’t found a dance partner??” Furina's panicked tone was evident as she approached you, her arm linked with Neuvillette's, signaling that they would dance together. 

“Um, well, not yet…” you mumbled, feeling a bit flustered.

“Oh, my! I won’t allow you wasting your skills today! Let me see…”

Furina pondered for a moment before suggesting a few Palais Mermonia attendees as potential partners. However, none of them really piqued your interest. If you want someone, it would be– 

“Wriothesley is also attending this event too, in case you are wondering,” Neuvillette added suddenly, catching you off guard.

Your eyes widened slightly at the unexpected mention of Wriothesley's presence. You knew Neuvillette must be offering his personal opinion, perhaps based on his own observation of your close working relationship with the Duke, in addition with Wriothesley's request to extend your stay at the fortress. However, the comment had caught you off guard, and you went silent, a faint blush tinting your cheeks as you hid your excitement.

But your reaction had caught Furina’s attention as her smile turned into a mischievous grin. “Ah, the Duke of Meropide! How could I forget?” she exclaimed dramatically, holding her hand up to her face. “I saw him near the gardens earlier. You should go check him out!”

Although you realized her attempt on teasing you, you found yourself nodding hastily and made your way outside to the place she had mentioned. 

“And the ball is starting in fifteen—!” Furina added rather enthusiastically, her voice trailing behind you. 

And so, you went outside. The atmosphere was less crowded than indoors, but there were still plenty of people mingling about. You paced around in search of Wriothesley when suddenly, a young man intercepted you from the side, introducing himself.

“Good evening, m’lady. You're as lovely as a fresh rainbow rose. Would you do me the honor of a dance?”

“Thank you, but I’m actually looking for someone…” you began, trying to politely decline.

“A dance partner, perhaps?” he persisted, holding out a real rainbow rose this time.

“I’m sorry, but I really should— ,“ you attempted to excuse yourself, but he wasn't taking the hint.

“The ball's starting soon. It'd be a shame not to enjoy a dance with such a beautiful lady…”

Feeling pressured but unable to escape his persistence, you were about to step away, but a reassuring hand suddenly clasped your waist, holding you close from the side.

“The lady clearly indicated she wasn't interested.”

Relief flooded through you as you immediately recognized the voice. Looking up, you saw Wriothesley standing with a polite – or perhaps, intimidating – smile on his face, standing rather menacingly in front of the persistent man. The young man went off immediately, clearly taking Wriothesley’s cue.

After the man had hurriedly retreated, Wriothesley released his arm from your waist and turned towards you, his gaze lingering for a moment, a small smile playing on his lips as he took time to admire your delightful appearance. He then bowed slightly towards you, lifting your hand with a gentle touch and pressed a small kiss to the back of it.

“M’lady,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. 

You were stunned by his gentlemanly gesture, as you just felt a flutter of butterflies inside your stomach. “Wriothesley…” You found yourself momentarily at a loss for words, struck by how incredibly charming he appeared in his formal attire.

“You look stunning,” he complimented, his warm gaze met yours, a stark contrast to the coolness of his icy-colored eyes. You shyly thanked him for his kind words, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his sincere compliment.

As the two of you were lost in the brief moment of admiring each other, he cleared his throat, subtly regaining his composure as he glanced around. “…Are you perhaps, waiting for someone?” he asked as his curiosity piqued. 

“Oh, well, I was…”

Wriothesley immediately caught onto your choice of words.

“You… were?”

“Mhm, but not anymore,” you replied with a warm, sheepish smile.

A hint of confusion flickered across Wriothesley's face, his thoughts momentarily jumbled. Wait, so you weren't waiting for Antonio, which meant…

You sensed his slow realization and couldn't help but let out a small laugh as you added, “You, Wriothesley. You’re the one I’ve been searching for.”

Your words came out cheesier than intended, and you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks as you scrambled to explain. But Wriothesley did not seem to care as his smile grew wider. It was what he had hoped to hear. 

But then, before he could say anything, your attention shifted to the direction of the building, with the music began playing from inside the hall, signaling that the ball had already begun as people started flocking into the building.  

Observing the dwindling crowd, Wriothesley turned to look at you. “As much as I want to dance with you, I don’t think we’ll make it in time inside.”

You returned his smile at his eagerness to dance with you. You looked around, taking in the serene atmosphere of the nearly empty garden. “It’s fine. Instead… I’d hate to miss the beauty of the moon tonight.”

He gave you an affectionate smile as he seemed to understood the hint, and extended his arm towards you. “Well then, m’lady, may I have the honor of a dance?”

With a nod, you gladly accepted his hand. “Of course, Your Grace,” you replied, earning a small chuckle from him at your sudden formality.

As the music played softly in the background and the moon cast its gentle glow upon you, you and Wriothesley began to dance. The waltz you had practiced with Furina proved its worth as you both moved gracefully under the enchanting night sky. You realized that you had been longing for his company for this whole time.

As you danced, you became acutely aware of the close proximity between you and Wriothesley. Your faces were just inches apart, and his eyes seemed to be locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. His hand rested firmly on your back, providing a reassuring support, while the other held yours with a gentle yet firm grip. 

“You dance well,” you whispered softly, breaking the silence.

“I could say the same about you,” he hummed, his eyes affectionately locked on yours as you two transitioned into a slower dance. “Have you been practicing in secret? Or were you just naturally gifted?”

You gave a small laugh at his remark. “Actually…” You paused, shying away for a bit. “I’ve been attending dance lessons with Lady Furina these past few weeks.”

“Oh? Is that why you've been going back and forth to the surface?” 

“Mostly, yeah, since I agreed to return her favor,” you explained with a sheepish grin. “But she also roped me into helping compile some data for this event. I must thank you for offering me appointing an assistant to help with the job though. He really did his job well.”

“Wait, I thought he’s also coming to this event?” He stopped the slow dance momentarily, still holding you in his arms as he processed the new information.

“Antonio? No, he’s taking care of my duties today in the fortress, as I instructed him yesterday.”

Wriothesley went silent as everything seemed to click inside his mind, a chuckle escaping his lips, amused by his own thoughts. You looked at him in confusion, but he waved off your concern with a dismissive smile.

“Never mind, it’s not the time to dwell on petty things,” he said, his focus returning to you. “I don’t want to spoil the moment dancing with you tonight.”

You stared at him for a second, before nodding in agreement, letting go of any lingering questions inside you as you both resumed your dance under the enchanting moonlight. It felt like you were dancing without a care in the world, lost in each other’s embrace.

As the song reached its conclusion, you both stopped gracefully, locked in a gaze neither of you wanted to break. A warm smile played on your lips as you looked into his eyes, feeling the warmth of his gaze that he returned to you.

In that fleeting moment, as the night air wrapped around you like a gentle caress, there was a subtle shift in the atmosphere. His eyes began to flicker between your lips and your eyes. You were ready to surrender yourself into the silent invitation as you slowly leaned forwards, feeling his breath brush against your skin as your noses almost touching.

Seeing you responded to his silent cue, a faint smile tugged at the corners of Wriothesley's lips as he too began to close the gap between you, inching closer. Finally, his lips met yours as he kissed you gently, sealing the moment carefully with a tender embrace.

Despite your racing heartbeat, you melted into his soft kiss, feeling his hand cupping your cheek gently that made your heart flutter. As the air around you seemed to grow warmer with the intensity of the moment, you pulled back slightly, needing a moment to catch your breath. Your cheeks flushed with a rosy hue as you met his gaze with half-lidded eyes, the heat of the moment still lingering between you.

He leaned in closer, as if to pull you into another kiss, but then abruptly halted, his body rigid as his eyes widened slightly. He then quickly turned his head to the side facing the bushes, while his hand remained protectively on your waist.

“Who’s there?” he asked, his voice a bit demanding.

Slowly, a small figure behind starting to emerge behind the bushes, revealing Sigewinne who slowly tiptoed out.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Your Grace, I thought I was hiding well,” she said with a sheepish smile. “I didn’t want to bother, so I waited.”

Wriothesley immediately released his hand from your waist, bringing it to his face to hide his embarrassment. “Ah, it’s you…, what brings you here?”

“Monsieur Neuvillette was searching for you, and I happened to spot you here,” she explained, her tone light and playful. 

Wriothesley let out an exasperated sigh, his hand falling to his side. “Right.”

Then, Sigewinne glanced at you with a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Looks like your jealousy was a tad unnecessary, Your Grace,” she teased.

“Huh, where did that come from?” Wriothesley responded with a bemused expression.

You stood there, momentarily stunned, before Sigewinne’s words finally sank in. “…Jealous? Of whom?” you asked, glancing between them in confusion, before it dawned on you as you recalled your lingering questions from your mind.

Wait…could it be? 

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as Sigewinne continued, “Ah, you see, this big man was actually jealous that new assis–”

“Ugh, spare me…” Wriothesley groaned, turning to walk away, not wanting to hear the rest of Sigewinne’s teasing. You laughed softly as you followed behind with Sigewinne as she started to explain her observationsfrom the past few weeks.

As you walked, you caught Wriothesley stealing a glance back at the two of you, a playful smirk tugged on his lips. It seemed like he was content with how things had turned out.

And so, the rest of the night unfolded with cheers and laughter, with everyone by your side. Despite the lingering feeling of a certain unfinished business, you couldn't wipe the smile from your face for the entire night.

After all, you now know that the feelings were mutual, right?

lovely 🥹

Hi, I saw your 1k event, congrats btw ^^!

I can't decide between 05 and 06 with Wrio 😭, but I go with 06 Voicelines about you with Wriothesley

VOICELINES ABOUT YOU —

⋆·˚ many voicelines about you for wriothesley because he can't stop talking about you (and tea) and the traveller can't really seem to pull lovesick wrio out of his daydream about you ... poor paimon

note: sfw work & gender neutral reader.

— WHEN THE SUN SHINES

"After many days of rain, feeling the bright rays of the sun is truly what a person needs. Needless to say, this also calls for a picnic or perhaps a tea party ? Whichever you prefer but... tea party is suggested since it is also what me and my lover, both prefer, they makes great tea ones to die for ahem."

— WHEN IT'S WINDY

"My beloved oftentimes opens the window of our house up here in Court of Fontaine when the gentle breeze blows. It has them humming and in a lively mood but when the breeze turns into a storm, they get even more ecstatic because of the thought of the free bulle fruits that fall from the trees. sigh I have to admit that the thought of free bulle fruits do sound quite enticing so we both embark to the nearest tree to pick them up and enjoy them with tea."

— WHEN IT'S MORNING

"Good morning traveller, hm? I look lively today? haha perhaps it's because I was graced by an angel's face the first thing when I woke up in the morning? not that I would tell you but you're quite smart enough to know who it is."

— WHEN IT'S NIGHT

"Incase you are having trouble sleeping at night, feel free to give either me or my partner a call. We will give you a big supply of tea that helps you sleep at night. I would suggest tasting their brew because more often than not, when I was in the earlier years of bring a Warden in the fortress, their tea helped me get adequate amount of rest."

— WHEN IT RAINS

"Take an umbrella lest you get wet, Traveller. I hope my lover has also taken one ... hmm... perhaps can you go and check on them? take another one with you. Oh, me? don't worry, a mere rain won't get me sick in bed"

— WHEN IT SNOWS

"What are your plans now since it's snowing? There are quite a lot of things you can try now that you are here in Fontaine. Although there aren't many lakes here that freeze over, due to the sake of our friendship, I will tell you where to go looking for the frosted lake. It's a secret! Don't go telling others... especially you, Paimon. Me and my darling both visit this place and it has become a haven for us now."

— ABOUT US

"We have been together ever since they started keeping me company from when I was still a prisoner. We have spent days and memories, happiness and sorrows, and vows and promises with eachother. They have undoubtedly scored a precious place in my heart that is reserved only for them."

damn...😳

NAME : katsuki bakugou + shoto todoroki, boku no hero academia

SONG : moment , vierre cloud

SUMMARY : y/n l/n is the new girl in class 2-a. as the year goes by, todoroki and bakugou find out that they like the same person. wc :

(reader's quirk is angel. u have two wings in ur back)

(also i removed hagakure from the story 😭 SORRY i love her swear)

"hello, i'm y/n l/n. i hope we can all get along."

the winged girl smiled, then bowed deeply as the class admired her. she was pretty, and her wings were pretty.

"you can sit infront of him. bakugou, raise your hand."

bakugou lazily raised his hand a bit, she looked towards him, walking towards the empty seat in the front row. as she sat, she placed her bag under her table, tucking her wings into herself a bit to not bother the boy behind her.

he raised an eyebrow at her actions, rolling his eyes and slouching back into his seat.

-

"hi! i'm mina ashido!"

"oh hi!"

"i'm ochaco uraraka!"

"you can call me tsuyu."

the girls were crowding around the new girl as soon as the bell rang for break. the girls in the class were all making eye contact with each other during class and pointing fingers at each other of who would be the one to talk to y/n first.

"wanna sit with us for lunch? we'll tell you everything about our class!"

"yeah sure, that would be great."

y/n smiled at yaoyorozu as mina threw an arm around y/n's shoulder, pulling her up from her seat.

"man, the girls have already started talking to the new girl.."

kaminari said, looking at the group of girls with his arms crossed. he stood infront of kirishima and bakugou who were around bakugou's desk as he packed up his stuff.

"you can't deny, she's really cute."

kirishima murmured, leaning into kaminari a bit to quiet his voice but bakugou heard it anyway, ignoring it. kaminari nodded rapidly, you would think his head was going to fall off from how fast he was.

bakugou got up without saying anything, leaving the classroom while kaminari and kirishima yelled at him to wait.

-

the girls were waiting in the lunch line together, waiting patiently as uraraka brought her three guy friends to meet y/n.

"my name is tenya iida! i'm pleased to have you as a new classmate!"

iida put a hand out for y/n to shake, she grasped his hand, giving it a firm shake and a smile as she held onto his hand.

"pleased to meet you, iida."

iida matched her smile, letting go of their head and directing her attention to the boys next to him.

"i'm izuku midoriya, this is shoto todoroki!"

the green haired boy said, turning to the white and red haired boy as he looked up from his phone at y/n. he bowed a bit, putting his phone in his pocket.

"nice to meet you."

"nice to meet you too-"

"l/n- are you an actual angel? what else is apart of your quirk? can all of your feathers separate like the pro hero hawks? can you control all your feathers with free will? or-"

"geez midoriya, chill out!"

mina exclaimed, her hands going down on y/n's shoulders as y/n grinned, a bit of a nervous look on her face as her eyebrows furrowed. todoroki blinked at her facial features, he didn't really get to see it when she was infront of the class and he was at the back, but now, right infront of her, he can.

"you're very pretty, l/n."

the group went quiet, hearing the stoic heterochromic boy say such a bold statement.

"o-oh, thank you, todoroki.."

y/n blushed, turning red as mina nervously laughed, then pulled y/n away as they were at the front of the line to get food. todoroki cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"did i do something wrong?"

todoroki turned his head towards midoriya and iida who were partially embarrassed, red filling their faces.

"n-no, todoroki.."

-

the next day, y/n was walking to school as she looked down at her phone, scrolling and looking for a song to play.

"l/n."

y/n heard a voice behind her, turning to see her handsome classmate. yesterday, when he said she was pretty, she was going to say that he was handsome too, just to make him embarrassed, but his blank stare made her crumble, and blush.

"hi todoroki!"

y/n waved, stopping and waiting for todoroki to catch up as he slowly jogged up next to side, then she continued walking.

"do you live around this area?"

y/n questioned, playing a random playlist and turning off her phone, holding it in her hand.

"mhm. just down the road."

todoroki nodded, looking straight down the sidewalk as y/n looked up at the boy. but then something clicked in her head, she quickly looked at her phone, her eyes widening at the time.

"shit! we're gonna miss the train, todoroki!"

y/n blurted, gripping onto todoroki's wrist and starting to run towards the train station. todoroki watched her hair bounce with each step she was taking, holding onto his bag with his free hand to avoid his bag falling off his shoulder.

todoroki watched as the sunlight hit her hair just right, making her hair practically shine underneath the sun as y/n’s hold on his wrist slipped, going down to his hand as she grabbed onto his hand, holding it tight with a squeeze as she checked her phone again.

“todoroki! are you there-“

y/n turned her head while running, making eye contact with todoroki as he blinked, snapping out of his lovesick daze.

“yeah-“

todoroki lips parted, shutting tight as he squeezed her hand, starting to run alongside y/n as y/n smiled laughing next to todoroki as she closed her eyes, her head going down as laughter bubbled out her lips.

todoroki let a small smile slip from his lips, the corners of his mouth going up as he continued running down the street alongside y/n.

he would just have to tell his driver he could get to school on his own.

-

y/n and todoroki came into the classroom together, todoroki opening the door for the girl as she smiled and thanked him.

bakugou looked up from his seat, he was leaning back into his seat while kirishima, sero and kaminari were infront of him, standing and talking to each other while letting bakugou pipe into the conversation from time to time.

“yo, should i ask for l/n’s number?”

“no bro- didn’t you see todoroki and l/n walk in together? pretty girls and pretty boys always get together.”

“are you saying i’m ugly-!?”

“hey, sir’s waiting.”

bakugou said, making the three look at him and look back at aizawa who was glaring at them, his eyes turning red and his hair floating up as they bowed in embarrassment, hurrying to their seats.

when they finally left from bakugou’s view, he could see y/n clearly infront of him, well, the back of her, and her wings.

bakugou thought they were big for no reason. could she even fly?

-

“team bakugou and l/n, you’re up!”

the class had a training exercise with a random partner, bakugou made no comment out loud of the new kid being his partner but, his thoughts were screaming.

‘are you kidding me? pretty girl is my partner?’

bakugou yelled in his head as y/n ran up to him, slowing down to walk next to him.

“hey! you’re bakugou, right?”

“yea.”

“oh okay! how do you wanna do this-?”

“just don’t get in my way, i’ll probably do all the work anyway.”

bakugou said bluntly, walking faster to avoid y/n as y/n’s face became blank, blinking at the boy who was walking away faster. she squinted her eyes at him, smiling.

-

there were multiple clones of ectoplasm and y/n and bakugou were surrounded.

“i told you not to get in my way!”

bakugou yelled, explosions sparking from his palms. y/n looked down as she clenched her forearm, a white energy surging through her arm.

“i didn’t even do anything! with you running away from me!”

“because you would get in my way!”

“just stop yelling for a sec, your throat-!”

y/n cut herself off as she flapped her wings and the clones on her side turned to liquid clones. bakugou whipping his head at her side to look and see no one, y/n gone and the clones gone.

“angel!”

bakugou called out, looking up to see y/n in the air, jumping down in the centre of the clones on bakugou’s side, slamming her fist down on the ground as the ground crumbled, making the clones fling into the air as bakugou put his hands down towards the ground, shooting himself up as he exploded all of the clones.

y/n stood up on the ground, bakugou dropped down infront of her. y/n quirked her eyebrow up,

“are you gonna yell at me? sorry if i was in your way-“

“sorry for the way i was acting.”

bakugou grumbled, it was so, out of character of himself. he didn’t even know what he was doing. y/n’s eyes widened, feeling a tad bit bad for the way she was yelling, but to be fair, he was yelling louder before.

“oh! it’s cool- sorry i yelled back at you.”

y/n admitted, her eyebrows furrowed but a smile on her face as bakugou’s eye trailed down towards her parted lips.

“let’s go back.”

“oh right!”

y/n exclaimed, turning and starting to walk as bakugou admired her back, her wings.

“bakugou?”

bakugou heard, fast walking to catch up with her, much unlike before when he was literally running away from her.

-

y/n walked beside todoroki, counting her money in focus to be sure she had enough for one of the dishes she wanted from the cafeteria. (pretend they pay for somethings idk)

the winged girl groaned out loud, his hands rubbing her eyes as her lips turned to a frown. todoroki looked at her in wonder, cocking his head to the side.

“what’s wrong?”

“i don’t have enough money for the cold soba..”

“do you like cold soba?”

todoroki’s eyes widened, wondering if the pretty girl liked one of his favourite foods, she lifted her hands away from her eyes, blinking at the boy.

“yeah.. i was really craving it today...”

“i’ll pay for you.”

todoroki said, starting to fast walk to the cafeteria to see y/n’s reaction to eating it as y/n stopped in shock, jogging to catch up with todoroki as her eyebrows furrowed and her lips opened,

"are you sure? thank you so much though.."

“it’s alright.”

todoroki said, in the line and already at the front, ordering two cold soba trays.

y/n stood behind him, a small smile of her face as she appreciated the kind offer that todoroki gave her- well, more like just buying her food.

the girl felt a nudge in her shoulder, turning her head to see bakugou with one hand holding his tray of food, the other in his pocket.

“come sit with me.”

bakugou said, looking away from y/n and straight at his table of friends who were laughing loudly far away. y/n turned to look at the group and where they were, while she was looking away, bakugou took the chance to glance down at y/n, seeing her long eyelashes as they fluttered open and shut, then turning to bakugou again as he quickly looked away.

“sorry,, i’m sitting with todoroki today!”

bakugou looked at the girl after scoffing loudly.

"you can stand one lunch away from that half-and-half bastard-"

"bakugou?"

bakugou and y/n turned towards todoroki, who was holding two trays of cold soba. bakugou raised an eyebrow at the dual coloured haired boy as todoroki narrowed his eyes towards him.

"l/n is going to be sitting with me. not you."

"i don't remember asking you, icy-hot."

"you didn't have to, i'm telling you."

"what do you say?!"

todoroki let out quick but calm remarks at the blonde boy but bakugou was glaring openly at todoroki, getting right up in todoroki's face as y/n's eyes whipped back and forth between the boys.

"guys!"

the two looked at her, stopping their argument.

"how about, we all sit together? i wanted to talk with mina today anyway!"

y/n grinned, turning and quickly walking towards the table that had mina, kirishima, sero, jirou and kaminari. jirou and mina seeing the girl and the two boys walking behind her, waving at her.

"hey y/n!"

"hi!"

"oh shit, hey l/n!"

"hi there!"

y/n sat in the free space next to mina, with a space for one more person to sit next to y/n.

"is it okay if i- i mean, todoroki and i sit with you guys?"

"no problem!"

sero said, showing a thumbs up towards the girl and a wink while kaminari was fist bumping the air in excitement.

todoroki was quicker than bakugou, sitting in the seat next to y/n as bakugou gritted his teeth slightly at the boy who was staring up at him- was that a tiny smirk on his face!?

bakugou dropped his tray on the table, already eating as y/n talked to todoroki about english homework. then she turned away, leaning over mina to talk to jirou who was next to her.

todoroki and bakugou made eye contact with each other as todoroki looked at the boy across from him on the table. bakugou narrowed his eyes, using his hand and sticking out his thumb as he dragged his thumb over his neck, pointing at todoroki.

todoroki just silently slurped his soba, glaring at bakugou.

this meant war.

Don't ever hesitate. Reblog this. TUMBLR RULE. When you see it, REBLOG IT.

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welp, I need to find this fic ;-;

I was just seeing on with what bot I could chat with (looking for some of Wriothesley's Im bored asf) and I found this one of Cyno, and well, it drawed my attention hehe, just wanted to know if someone knows this fic?

Btw, @cherieblaire's bot in Character ai (sorry if my grammar is bad, Im still getting used to write in english)

beautiful man✨

📸! selfie

my boy deserves so much better ;-;

My thoughts about Wriothesley

Literally my thoughts about him, and his personality when I play the game.

He had a wonderful childhood, before he knew the truth. He thought he was the lucky child in the world, had been adopted and lived happily with silbling.

Based on his personality when we get close to him (and his sense of humor), I think he used to be a talkative child. Not the energetic one but the one who has a positive, extrovert vibe. I can image Wriothesley, in the past, giving newcomers a sweet and encouraging smile while walking them around the house.

So well-behaved *sob*

His smile used to be so pure and sweet, kind. I think in a normal life, Wriothesley could be a kind entrepreneur or a nice, helpful officer. He is easy-going and willing to help others.

So when he knew the truth, it devasted him. Imagine your dear parents, your saviors, your most loved ones, you used to swear that you would protect them when you grow up, but actually use you like livestock. He would feel like a clown. He was furious from the betrayal. I’m sure it ruins every memory, warm feeling of him about childhood. I can imagine how struggling he was (or is) to endure the thought that his dear memory was nothing but fake.

Think about a lively teenager who suddenly lost everything. He couldn’t rely on anybody or anything. He must be angry so much. Why now? Why did they lie? Why they were careless to let him know the truth? Why?

I think Wriothesley, sometimes, just sometimes, wishes that he could die without knowing the truth. So he could remain as a pure boy who had a beautiful childhood.

But nothing can undo, his memory about his childhood now was stained by the dirty truth. He may talk about his past with ease now but it still bothers him.

After all those years, he still healing and comforting his wounds. He avoids touching it or digs deeper into it. He even doesn’t connect with any of his “silblings”, knowing that helping them could hurt him more.

Living in the fortress taught him that everyone has their own story, their own reason, well most of them. So do his “parents”, but he doesn’t want to understand that, he doesn’t want to empathize with them. If he does, who will empathize with him? Who will bring back his pure childhood to him? Who will let him have a life as a “clean profile” citizen? No one. So just let him despite them.

 That’s why he went himself to the criminal house in the teaser. He wants to protect that child’s world so she can live a happy life, unlike him. When that girl gets older, she will understand her father's guilt.

Although Wriothesley is an easy and sassy guy, he will bonk whoever tells children that Santa Clause isn’t real.

Overall, Wriothesley is deeply hurt and he is trying his best to heal that trauma. I know every character in Genshin has an unforgettable past but hyv did really well at Wriothesley’s. I can feel his pain and struggle through every single line. (or maybe because I like him too much ig lmao)

Wriothesley is smart with craft things. If whoever plays Tears of Themis, you will understand what I mean. Wriothesley plays with materials just like Luke. We can bring him a broken clock and he will fix it as if his hobby. Maybe he will even add more functions to that clock lmao. (Something like an alarm when is tea-time).

Wriothesley admits that he has trust issues and most of his friends are not human. I guess they are Melusines. They may be weird a little bit and cannot understand or act like humans, but Wriothesley can trust them since they are not as greedy as humans

As a happy boy he used to be, Wriothesley loves playing =))) He enjoys his daytime with many entertainment. He will delay work till night if it’s not urgent. He is smart enough to be lazy.

One more reason is he wants to sleep faster. If he does the work at night, it will drain his energy. As soon as he flops on the bed, he falls asleep. Better if he is tired enough that he can’t even dream of anything. He doesn’t want to sleep alone in bed, thinking about his life, past life.

Omg please Wrio let me hug you. I will pamper you into sleep every night QAQ.

Lmao he has a sweet tooth. I thought he likes the bitterness of the tea when I heard that he drinks it usually until I see this. Ptff men are just bigger boys.

No way just making some faces while reading this :')

(I really liked it! maybe Im starting to see Thoma as one of my fav characters haha, im still on liyue so I don't know so much of the archon quest of Inazuma hehe)

Furry wars

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Summary

"Finally finding time to visit Inazuma, you bring your co-worker and 'little sister' with you to the land of Eternity. Though, what seemed more eternal was when you first looked into his emerald green eyes."

Warnings

Man everyone is fluffy—

Dogs vs Cats debate

Barks and hisses

Reader is not traveller

Reader can have a vision (Whether they have it or not, it isn't mentioned)

Light cursing from Diona's dialouge (Towards Gorou)

Love at first sight trope

Thoma kinda knew you a bit back then

But you never noticed him

As usual, GN!Reader and quite a long Oneshot

A/N: Had to put the SMAU on hold for a day or two, i'm trying to juggle 7 things at once (studying, writing, genshin, hobbies, etc.) But I promise it'll continue as soon as this oneshot gets posted ^^

I always wanted Diona and Gorou to meet, or any other half-human-half-animal hybrid. But since Hoyoverse slapped my face for that idea, I turn to the best and also worst solution to everything; this :D

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Your romance begins here

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A sigh of relief left your lips, your shoes hitting the wooden deck as soon as you jumped off the boat. "We're here..." You breathed out, gazing at the city of eternity now right in front of you. You had been dreaming about visiting the place ever since a relative of yours had moved to Inazuma.

Now that Cat's Tail's closed for a month due to some renovation, you could finally visit the region, treating it as your much-needed vacation. "Diona! We're here!" You exclaimed, turning around with a gleeful face, a contrast to the young half-cat girl who only raised an eyebrow at her surroundings.

Her slitted pupils followed the bulky men carrying boxes, moving between ships and chatting with the guards patrolling around the decks with their polearms. "...This is Inazuma?... I've seen better. But, I guess a change from the bland Mondstat atmosphere ain't half bad."

"Hey, you begged me to bring you here. The least you could do is smile." You chuckled, giving the back of her ears a scratch.

Her tail curled up, ears erect as you grazed your nail at a specific area that made her melt into your touch. You're extremely lucky to become Diona's closest friend, giving you an exclusive privilege to petting her tail and ears, parts that she would claw anyone's faces into pieces if they dare graze their fingers on. But, you were an exception.

And if you're lucky enough— she'll accidentally call you her sibling.

"Yeaaaah... W-Wait, don't try to change the story! It wasn't me who begged you, you were the one begging me to join because you can't survive even a second without me!" Patting your hands away in a flustered manner, she began marching foward and away from you, hoping you didn't catch the blush on her cheeks.

"Hey! Diona! Wait up!" You laughed, catching up to the bartender who was scanning the city of Ritou. You did the same, admiring how peaceful and calm it was compared to the lively, happy-go-lucky, energetic city of Mondstat. This was certainly a vacation you were looking foward to enjoy.

"Ugh... out of all the places you decide to go first, it had to be the one place where they sell wine here too!" The pink haired girl hissed in disgust, glaring at the stall nearby with a female holding a bottle of Dandelion Wine in her hands.

Diona glared at you, narrowing her eyes at you as though you had destroyed the wine industry before her. You laughed awkwardly in response, scratching the back of your neck while averting your gaze away from her.

You then remembered [Relative] suggesting you a small restaurant for you and Diona to eat at upon arrival, knowing they sell one of her favorite food there.

"Heeeey, you're probably hungry. I heard [Relative] said that there's a restaurant nearby and they sell fish!" You watched as her ears perked up on interest, her eyes clearly asking you to continue. You took out a piece of paper from an envelope your reletive sent you, on the paper was a well-drawn out map of Ritou.

After checking the location, you nod your heard towards the direction of said restaurant, Diona now walking right beside you with a small smile of excitement while you busy yourself with choosing where to go to after having lunch.

Though, perhaps maybe you should've waited a little longer before heading over to the restaurant.

"Stay back! I won't let you harm him!" You looked up from the map, eyes widening when you saw your pink haaired co-worker hissing at the brown haired boy... who had dog-like features?

You were familiar with others having animal-like traits, such as Sucrose and Klee, but those were quite rare.

"What's up with you mutts goin' around barkin' at us, huh!? What? Want me to scratch your face!?" Diona hissed, her tail erect as she pulled up her sleeves while marching towards the male.

"W-Wait!! Diona, no!" You hurried over to her, wrapping your arms around her waist and lifting her away. You were lucky she was just a small child.

The bartender thrashed in your arms, digging her slightly sharp nails into your skin. But as usual, you felt no pain, having been used to dragging her away from any stray canines back in Mondstat and getting her to attack you instead.

"Gorou, you too! You shouldn't act so impulsive towards someone innocent!" Another voice reprimanded, you turned your head, opening your mouth to apologise, only to have your words stuck in your throat as the other apologises first. "I-I'm sorry, my friend doesn't normally react like this!"

You sealed your lips shut, trying to tear your gaze away from the attractive blonde struggling to hold back his half-canine friend barking at the half-feline girl in your arms, who was hissing back at him with the same ferocity. It's a surprise you could still hold Diona, already getting distracted by the stranger's good looks.

"Ah, i-it's fine, really. She just doesn't really like dogs. Ahaha..." You managed to blurt out with an awkward chuckle, causing his striking emerald green eyes to gaze into your shy ones. Your cheeks grew warmer, averting your gaze away to the passersby stopping to witness the commotion.

Now that he's got a good look at you, he nearly choked on his words and loosened his hold around Gorou's waist. "I-Uh..." The blonde was having the same reaction as you were, though, the blush he wore was much less visible compared to yours.

As much as the two of you would like to continue gazing eachother in admiration, the male was the first to break the contact with much reluctance, being forcefully pulled foward by his friend.

"Gorou, snap out of it. You're causing a ruckus." The blonde whispered, 'Gorou's ears twitching in response. His teal eyes gazed over at the small crowd he and Diona had garnered, the embarrassment now settling in.

Seeing as all eyes were on them, Gorou lowered his defensive stance, his ears and tail drooping low as though he got caught doing something bad. "U-Uhm..." The half-canine barely glanced at the hissy cat who didn't care about the crowd nearby before looking at you shyly. "S-So sorry... I didn't mean to bark at your... 'friend'. They caught me off guard, I haven't met a half-feline in Inazuma before."

You could hear the hesitation in his voice when he called Diona your friend, but you decide to accept it anyways. "We come from Mondstat. It goes the same for my friend, Diona, here." You explained, at this point, the crowd had dispersed since the commotion between your friend and Gorou is being resolved rather quickly.

"I see. Welcome to Inazuma... Mx?" The blonde gestured to you, ever-so-subtly taking this opportunity to ask for your name.

"[Full Name]. But you can just call me [Preferred Name]." You stated, you didn't even realize you had placed the pink haired girl down who was now leaning against your back with hers, hiding her pout away from the three of you. You were too busy maintaining proper eye contact with the blonde and trying not to shy away from his kind gaze.

"I'm Thoma, a housekeeper. As you most likely know already, this is Gorou, a general from Watatsumi Island." Thoma introduced, gesturing over to the shorter male who nodded in acknowledgement. "What were you both planning to do previously before meeting us?"

You opened your mouth to awnser, only to have the pink haired bartender beat you to it. "We were gonna have lunch, that's what. Til' your mutt decided to butt in and bark at me for no reason!" It seems like Diona was still having a grudge against Gorou despite his half-assed apology.

You let out a strained laugh, stepping a little to the side so you could hide her behind you. "It's... true, but to be fair, we didn't realize we'd encounter the two of you here."

"Well, since neither of you had lunch yet, please allow us to treat you both to a meal as my apology!" Gorou suggested enthusiastically, now receiving Diona's attention as she turned around, interested in his offer.

You waved your hand frantically, your cheeks growing red after hearing Thoma's incredibly adorable laughter. "B-But that's too much we shouldn't take up your ti—" You flinched when Thoma suddenly grabbed your hand, pulling you away from a confused Gorou and a furious Diona.

"Don't be so shy, i'd love to get to know you better!" Thoma stated as he guided you into the restaurant with the other two following behind.

Upon stepping into the building, you were greeted with an aromatic waft in the air coming from the kitchen, you could already feel your mouth water just from the fragrance alone. Behind you was Gorou and Diona, who, unbeknownst to you and Thoma, were still sending eachother death glares behind your backs.

"Here, have a seat." The blonde offered, pulling a chair for you. If you weren't so flustered and melting over his smile that could light up a whole room, you would've been amused at his gentlemanly acts.

"Ah, thank you." You replied as you sat down, but your voice was barely above a mutter, too focused on trying to make your brain function and create coherent sentences instead of gibberish. Thoma sat right across from you, oddly enthusiastic about this, to which you found endearing.

Gorou took the seat beside Thoma, giving him a questionable look that went ignored by his friend. Meanwhile, Diona sat next to you, her arms crossed and scooting herself extremely close to you, to the point where she had bumped her hips against yours. You were already used to it, though, always having lunch with the pink haired bartender led her to become surprisingly clingy to you.

"So, what brings you to Inazuma?" Thoma asked, his smile never faltering. You're lucky he was carrying the conversations instead of leaving it to you, he seems like the type to always be the first to break the ice quite easily.

"A relative of mine had invited me over, I brought Diona here cause I see her as my little sister." You blurted out, looking over at Diona who immediately pushed herself away from you, staring with wide eyes that spelled betrayal.

You couldn't help but laugh, a real one this time, holding joy and amusement instead of awkwardness. And Thoma swore he had witness the true laugher that cures all.

The pink haired feline hissed, bearing her pearly white fangs at you, but the both of you knew she'd never lay a single finger on you. "I would rather be called a stranger to you than to be 'sisters' with someone as dumb as you!"

Obviously, you brushed away the insult like a spec of dust hitting your facs, used to it as well. It was a wonder to many citizens, how much patience do you have to even tolerate Diona's sassy personality. Yet, you just shrug as an awnser and continue to handle her hissy fits.

"I see. Well, if you have the time, I can show you around! There are a few places i'd like for you to see!" The blonde offered, you wondered if his cheerful aura is just completely natural to him. It's like Thoma is the definition of a ball of sunshine. "You can bring your 'sister' with you too. Gorou, would you like to join?"

At the mention of the pink haired bartender, the canine's ears perked up before drooping low. "Uh... Yeah, s-so, I think her excellency actually asked me to... uh, keep tabs on the other troops in their training. Yes, that! So, uh... See you later!— Uh, bye, [Name]! It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance!"

With that, Gorou had rushed out of the door, causing your friend to snicker. "Can't handle the heat, how sad~" Diona sneered, her ears twitching in amusement. "Alright, enough of this sappy stuff. I didn't come all thr way from Mondstat just to witness you cling all over some weirdo we just met... for all we know, he could be a spy!"

"D-Diona, he's not—" You tried reprimanding the young girl, taking it lightly as you despised hurting her feelings and seeing her cry.

"That's alright. I don't want to pose any threat towards the two of you, but I understand if you're cautious of me." Thoma waved his hand in the air once, a waiter coming over to take your orders. "But I promise, this is just a simple meal that i'd love to indulge with you."

You gave your order just as Diona did, after a nod of acknowledgement, the waiter had left the three of you alone once more. "There's no way you could be some... some— ball of happiness! Who do you work for and why are you after [Nickname]!?"

It's rare hearing Diona call you that, you can't help but feel honoured at her protective nature towards you.

"I knew this was not enough." Thoma chuckled, his eyes shining like crystals as they met yours once more. "That's why; i'd like to get to know you guys better. Especially you, [Name]. I remember seeing you back at Cat's Tail, you looked adorable back then."

"Wh-What!?" You covered the lower part of your face, a horrible attempt at hiding the growing blush on your face. Were you just hearing things now, or did he actually called you adorable? "Wh-What do you mean 'back then'?" You asked, hoping he wouldn't elaborate on his compliment once more. Perhaps he might, if it meant seeing you getting all shy and flustered. You're just absolutely precious.

"Ah, to be fair; we rarely saw eachother back then. You were such a busy worker, even at a young age. I guess you could say... I was inspired by you." Thoma chuckled at your puzzled expression, but he knew you'd react like this.

Your ran your fingers through your hair, your nails scraping against the skin of your scalp. "Wait, wait wait, you're saying you knew [Name] when they were a kid?" Diona asked, clearly not buying it.

"Yes. I apologise for keeping this a secret until now, but I actually come from Mondstat." Your eyes widened in surprise, just as shocked as Diona was. But you practically knew everyone Mondstat and you've never seen him before, was he telling the truth? "Sometimes, when I was younger, my parents brought me to that tavern when no one was around to watch after me. The first time I went to Cat's Tail was also the first time I saw you, [Name]."

"If you actually knew her before, then why in Teyvat did you ask for her name?" The pink haired girl asked while narrowing her eyes at him, still suspicious of him.

Thoma laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "Ah... actually, she was always busy... and I may or may not have been a little too shy to ask for her name."

You nearly let out an 'awe' at his reason, you would've loved to meet him when he was little. Perhaps the both of you would've been great friends. "I'm sorry I never noticed you before. I'm sure we could've gotten along quite well if I wasn't so busy all the time."

"Don't worry about it! Now that you're here... we can make up for all the lost time with eachother." Thoma spoke softly, placing his hand on top of yours while gazing into your eyes.

Your cheeks grew warm, nearly pulling your hand away out of instinct. But you returned the smile, shy but excited. "I... look foward to it." You managed to reply, adjusting your hand's position so that your fingers could intertwine with one another.

"This is disgusting. Where's my fish!?" Diona yelled impatiently, directing it to the person behind the counter, causing them to flinch and rush into the kitchen.

Diona lets out a huff, grumbling away while you and the blonde gave eachother a look, before bursting out in laughter together. Unaware of the victorious smug smile your friend wore, hiding away from you.

You're not one to believe in fairytales such as 'Love at first sight', let alone falling in love with someone as special as him. But looking into those green eyes of his... perhaps you could extend your vacation and indulge in this 'little fairytale' of yours.

After all, this was just the beginning of your blooming relationship.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

A/N: After about a week of getting random Oneshot ideas, I got hit with writers block while writing this. I'm sorry if the ending seems kinda ass, I just didn't have an idea on how to end it, I just cheesed through it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I wanted to make Gorou the best man while [Name] and Thoma are on their unofficial date, but I realized Gorou might not be an expert in that field. Poor boi.

[A bit of spoilers here for 3.3's Inazuma event]

Don't mind the shitty quality, it's bad graphics or my hand will be trained to touch the sun because mobile players just have heat proof hands

Also guys the new event is amazing

1. I squealed when Heizou appeared like this

2. Thomine UwU

Nahh, just felt butterflies when he was snuggling haha!

cw: suggestive content

“the fortress of meropide takes full responsibility for the beret society incident,” wriothesley states, heaving a sigh. “it was…an unfortunate oversight on my part.”

“it’s not entirely your fault,” clorinde tells him. “don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“thanks,” he grins, slightly surprised by her attempt at comforting him. “never thought i’d see the day—”

“don’t push it.” 

“come on, just admit that we’re best friends!” 

neuvillette clears his throat, like a parent would before lecturing a child. “what steps have you taken on behalf of those affected? many families of the victims have written to my office, requesting indemnification. it’s been explained that the court of fontaine holds no jurisdiction over the fortress. the matter falls into the hands of the warden.”

“i’ve moved some funds around to properly compensate everyone who was affected.” he answers, handing over a report outlining the details. “i’ve also compensated the doctor you sent to the fortress quite generously, as she’s taken on the responsibility of overseeing their continued care.” 

neuvillette chuckles quietly as he reads the report. “is ‘compensate’ new slang for 'intercourse?'”

one beat of silence. then two. clorinde snickers behind her teacup. wriothesley briefly considers swan-diving into the primordial sea. 

“why— why would you ask that?” he sputters instead.

the chief justice simply continues on reading, oblivious to the scandalized reaction of his companions. “oh, calm yourself, your grace. i was merely jesting, no need for anyone to be embarrassed.”

“yeah, if you’re him,” clorinde scoffs, jerking her thumb in his direction. “but if you’re the doctor in this situation…” 

“okay, your best friend status has officially been revoked. and you, chief justice! since when do you jest?”

“since it’s come to my attention that you both hold great affection for one another. sigewinne corresponds quite frequently with the other melusines here at palais mermonia. we know all about you and the doctor’s whispers of desire.”

clorinde chokes on the pastry she’s eating as wriothesley rises abruptly, his face suddenly hot. he swears the tea they’d been sharing is laced with something. “okay, you have my report, this meeting is over.” 

_____

“i got bullied by the chief justice and a champion duelist today,” your boyfriend pouts as he joins you in bed.

you bite back a smile as he pushes his head against your chest, snuggling contentedly against the silk of your chemise. 

“i’m having a hard time believing monsieur neuvillette would do such a thing.”

he releases a long, dramatic sigh as your fingers scratch lightly at his scalp. “can you do me a favour and tell him, in explicit detail, just how well i’m ‘compensating’ you?”

wriothesley yelps when you pinch the shell of his ear. “oh, hush,” you laugh, kissing the top of his head. 

not one to be outdone, the duke sits up, effortlessly trapping you beneath him and nosing at the column of your neck. you shudder as his teeth graze your ear in retaliation, your hand gripping the soft strands of hair at the base of his neck. 

“wait,” you gasp as you feel his lips form the beginning of what you know will be a very visible hickey tomorrow. “do you hear that?”

your boyfriend draws back to look down at you, concerned. “hear what?”

“it sounds like…a whisper of desire.”

“hey!”

yep, I'll definitely need more of this hehe (I really like it!)

Even Ice Melts | Chapter One

A/N - Hey there! This is my first time writing for Genshin Impact, and thats what this blog is gonna be, starting with this series. I'll most likely eventually create a masterlist and taglist if this gains traction, but in the meanwhile, enjoy!

----------------------------------------------------

Despite having a female Archon, the Ton of Fontain, or at least the higher society of Lords and Ladies, remained as sexist as could be. I knew this, the other women knew this, hell even the Hydro herself knew it. So, when my father announced his retirement and promptly announced that my hand was up for marriage, I was unsurprised. 

I mean, after all, how was a little lady like me- despite my advanced training and having already done so- supposed to take over his company? Surely I needed a man, no, a lord to guide me in this troublesome endeavor of running the most successful food production companies in Fontaine.

That's what brought me here. To this eerily lit elevator of rusted metal descending beneath the depths of the Hydro nation. The ever-illusive Fortress of Meropide. Truth be told, I’m surprised that Neuvillette allowed me to go to the Fortress, but something about owing my family a favor let me slip through the secure cracks of this place. 

Two guards greeted me once I arrived at the bottom of my journey, and a short ferry ride later I was standing in front of a desk. A rather grumpy looking lady looked up at me from her seat. “Name?” She asked, barely glancing at me before filing papers on her desk.

“Oh, I’m not here because… I’m here to visit Duke Wriothesley.” I responded as she looked up at me, abandoning the papers beneath her. Her eyes glanced at the two guards behind me who confirmed my statement.

She rolled her eyes before groaning, “Fine. Down that hallway and to the right. The center building, you can’t miss it.” She reluctantly instructed as I gave a brief nod of thanks before setting off on my way.

The stares and whispers of inmates were eerie as I approached the… office? Two guards stood outside of the doors and looked at me as I approached. “I’m here to see the Duke.” I stated as I stopped before the door. The two guards looked at one another, almost uncertain as they opened the doors to me.

I wasn’t expecting to be greeted to an empty room, spare the spiral staircase that followed the circular room and a few boxes here and there. The guards that were my escorts had decided to wait outside, so the doors closed behind me and left me alone in the room. “I thought I told you to knock.” A male voice called from the second story.

I bit my cheek in thought before responding, “You never told me anything.” I called back and was met with silence for a moment. I debated going up the stairs, but instead a man appeared at the top. Duke Wriothesley. I had seen him before, albeit briefly, at certain social gatherings, but he looked more disheveled at his place of work. His shirt unbuttoned at the top, a loose fitting tie, his hair a mess, and his blazer being swapped out for a black and red coat lined with fur.

He looked me over for a moment. “You’re not a convict.” He declared, perking an eyebrow. “And you’re not a guard either. What are you doing here?” He questioned, his icy blue eyes almost penetrating a hole through me.

Almost. “Monsieur Neuvillette sent me.” I half lied as he stared at me unimpressed. “Well, he let me down here. Truth be told, I’m here to speak to you, your grace.” I curtsied formally as this seemed to pique his interest.

He folded his arms and looked interested. “Well, then by all means, come up and let’s talk.” He motioned to the bottom of the staircase before heading up himself. I walked up to find an office, and the Duke with his back turned to what looked like a makeshift bar cart behind his desk.

“Do you drink tea?” He asked, reminding me of the package that was held within my coat’s pocket. I nodded as he made a pot. He turned around, deciding it had steeped enough as he poured a cup for both me and himself before sitting down.

He brought the porcelain up to his lips, taking a sip before smiling to himself as he looked from the cup at me. “So, what’d you want to meet about?” he asked, this time his tone was far less interrogative.

I huffed a small laugh before grinning and taking a sip of my tea, all in attempts to reassure myself. “As I’m sure you know, or maybe you don’t,” I commented before placing my tea cup back onto the table, his eyes not moving from mine, “My hand is up for marriage. While I understand that you are one of Fontaine’s top…” I trailed off in thought, biting my cheek as I searched for the word.

“Bachelors?” He offered before taking another drink from his porcelain teacup. 

I met his smirk with my own smile. “Yes.” I nodded, picking up my own drink but not bringing it to my lips, “You aren’t exactly in the best of favor with the ladies and lords of Ton.” I informed him as he nodded with a certain admittance on his face.

“So, why are you here then?” Wriothesley asked, not necessarily in a rude tone, but rather defensive without aggression. “I’m not exactly looking to repair that relationship.” He spoke, his eyes now holding a certain fire to them.

I took this time to sip my tea and spoke as the ceramic left my lips, “I’m aware. Don’t get me wrong, I understand the people of the court are not exactly the… easiest… to get along with, however they do hold a certain power here, in Fontaine.” I nodded, looking from the brown liquid to the Duke. 

His icy eyes not leaving mine for even a moment. “To put it plainly, they don’t like you.” I admitted as he took in the information without shock. Or without anything, really, he had been stoic since his last speech. “They haven’t made any plans yet, but there has been talk about finding a new Duke of Meropide, one that may observe their traditions.” 

The man before me folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, looking at me with a certain amusement. “So, that’s why I’m here. To put it plainly, I hate the other Lords that are vying for my hand in marriage, and you need to be in favor of the Ton.” I spoke firmly, placing my teacup on the table as if it was the final piece in a game of chess. 

He puffed out a small laugh. “You’re here because you want me to marry you?” He asked, a playful smile now evident on his face.

“I’m here because you’re the best option. This can be a mutually beneficial affair.” His smile didn’t leave his face as he drank his tea. “As I’m sure you know, my hand is only up for marriage because my father is retiring. That leaves me to take over the company. I see no reason why Cafe Lutece cannot have a partnership with the Fortress, given your welfare meals are… Well, we can supply you with better ingredients at least.” I informed as he seemingly thought it over.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but typically the Lord is the one who will take over the company, what’s to stop me from doing that?” He posed, setting his teacup down. 

“You seem happily occupied here in your fortress.” I commented, looking at the walls around me before setting my eyes on his, the smile dropping from my face. “But make no mistake. If you decide to take me up on my offer, and take advantage of me, I have no problem with saying what I need to in order for the Ton to turn on you.” I spoke coldly as Wriothesley’s happiness seemed to fade, being replaced with the Duke’s coldness and strength.

He narrowed his eyes at me as I smiled at him. “Relax, your grace.” I commented, picking up my teacup before taking a sip. “You asked me what I’d do if you’d betray this deal. I have no intention of doing any of this.”

He takes a moment to think before going to speak, “I-” He was interrupted by the door downstairs closing. We both looked to the stairwell and saw a Melusine. Neuvillette told me about her, if I remember correctly her name is- “Sigewinne.” Wriothesley addressed her. 

The melusine looked surprised to see me, as she moved her startled gaze from me to Wriothesley. “I can come back at a later time.” She responded as I stood up, causing the pair to turn to me.

  “No need, I was just taking my leave.” I spoke before grabbing the sticker book in my coat pocket. “This is for you.” I spoke, handing the book to the melusine, much to the Duke’s dismay. 

She smiled up at me. “Thank you.” Sigewinne then turned to the Duke, “I like her.”

Wriothesley lifted his eyebrows in amusement, nodding. I then turned towards him, pulling out the neatly wrapped purple package that had been sitting in my pocket as well, placing the item on his desk. He looked up at me, confused as a small smirk held place on his face. “What’s this?”

“Well, I figured if I wanted you in my favor, I’d come down bearing gifts, your grace.” I smirked back as he responded with ease.

“Call me Wriothesley.” 

“Alright then, Wriothesley.” I tested the new word on my tongue, “This is a package of Sakura Blossom Tea from the Grand Narukami Shrine in Inazuma. The best you’ll find on the market.” I nodded, before walking to the staircase. 

“Goodbye Wriothesley, and do think about my offer.” I smiled as he gave a nod and I left, the doors closing behind me.

<*>

“Who was that?” Sigewinne asked, placing the drink she had made for Wriothesley on his desk, still staring at the spot where the woman once stood.

Wriothesly didn’t look up from where he sat, staring at the package while he smiled. “My future wife.”

As You Are, I Am Too

Summary: If we compare people to magnets, opposites attract and sames repel, so why are two stoic faces paired as soulmates?

Word Count: 15.4k (why are you surprised at this point, get some snacks)

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem! Reader, Smut(r18+), NFSW, MDNI, Modern AU, Soulmate AU, Mutual Pinning, Fluff, Slow Burn, Slow fic, Perfectionist! Reader, angst, arranged pairing, TW: Toxic family, unhappy childhood trauma, child of strained marriage trauma, TW: Themes of self-loathing, themes of infidelity(misunderstanding), toxic work environment, slight workplace harassment, pushy boss, slightly yandere! Alhaitham?, Soft! Alhaitham, second chance romance?, slightly bratty! reader, Dom! Alhaitham, Degradation, Heavy adult themes, attempts at comedy

Author Note: This is experimental, I want to explore if two same sides of a magnet can still attract. I want to explore the fumbles and mistakes of love.

Side Note: Here is a continuation

Do you believe in soulmates?

It’s nothing to be ashamed of if you do. Because who doesn’t want to believe in it? The concept of an ‘other half’, a missing piece that completes you. Someone who loves you and only you unconditionally.

Who doesn’t want to experience that? 

To be loved, to be accepted, and to feel whole are all natural human desires. So it’s no surprise society, regardless of the century, culture, or demographic all obsessed over finding that other half.

To find a hand that fits perfectly within the gaps of one’s own. 

The greatest minds in all of Tevyat came together, analyzing each pattern, quantifying each data point, and testing each hypothesis until their magnum opus was created: The Akasha System.

Taking the work out of fate’s hands and into a large database. 

What criteria did this wonderful system use to piece together two halves of a whole? Who knows, it’s a black box. However, the machine was quite smart, quite quick, and quite accurate.

So much so, there was no reason not to use it. 

Humans, no matter how much some might deny it, despise being lonely. They fear it so much they’d rather hold a hand which strangles theirs with an equally crushing grip.

That’s why people rush toward their soulmates the moment the Akasha finds them, they fear being alone. 

But do you believe in soulmates?

“No.” Alhaitham puts down his drink.

“But you still used the Akasha??” Kaveh juts a finger in the direction of an ashen-haired man.

“And?” Disinterested eyes glance at the time displayed on a clock in the rowdy bar.

“And?! What do you mean and? You just said you don’t believe in soulmates!” The slam of Kaveh’s palms on the table made a bit of beer lap over the edge of his cup.

“I don’t believe in soulmates, but I’m not ignorant to the benefits of marriage.” 

“Huh?” 

“It’s convenient.” The blunt statement rolling off Alhaitham’s tongue as he motions for the tab.

“Ugh, you know what, forget it.” Kaveh chases his heavy sigh with a hearty swig of his cup.

“Well then, I’ll call it a night.” He’s stayed out long enough.

Placing a handful of mora on the table to cover his tab, Alhaitham bids goodnight to his two workplace acquaintances and former college roommate.

He swiftly strides towards the creaky tavern door, swinging it open as he steps into the warm Summer evening. Tomorrow is another workday, better to get an adequate amount of rest.

“Still the same even after a full year with her, huh,” Kaveh sighs dryly.

“Did you really think he’d change after marriage, Kaveh?” Cyno finally chipped in from the sidelines. 

“I should’ve known, someone as egotistical as Alhaitham practically married himself.” 

“Now, now, his wife is nowhere as egotistical as him,” Tighnari says over the rim of his glass. 

Cyno and Kaveh paused for a moment, sharing a glance as they considered Tighnari’s observation. With a shrug, they concluded: you weren’t nearly as egotistical as Alhaitham.

Still, the great mystery remains. 

“How is he the first to marry?” The blond bachelor slumps further on the tavern stool. 

“Life is full of wonders.” The ebony-haired bachelor gave a few comforting pats.

———————————————————————————

Unlocking the solid oak front door, Alhaitham steps into the serenity of a quiet house. Good, his ears were slightly buzzing from the boisterous conversation in a crowded bar.

Taking a few more steps into the entranceway, the man shuts the door behind his body.

The dull gossip over a few rounds of drinks made their influence known to him, he just wants to go to bed. Thus he takes a few more steps toward his bedroom.

“Place your shoes into the closet, I just mopped the floors.” A level voice called out from the living room. 

Alhaitham’s movement halts, quickly glancing down at the Oxford shoes still on his feet, taking note of the spotless floorboards.

Wordlessly, Alhaitham unties the laces allowing him to kick them off with ease, placing them onto the shoe rack just behind a closet door. 

It’s a habit that slips his mind every now and then despite a year of marriage; Surprisingly unsurprising when you take into consideration his busy mind.

However, times were different now, he’s no longer a kid, free to be lost in thought. He’s now a homeowner of a spacious house, a space he shares with you, and you liked things clean. 

Not a speck of dust lingered on surfaces, no plates left in the sink, and books pristinely placed on organized shelves. Qualifications that he deemed exceptional for a life partner.

Now with slipper-clad steps, Alhaitham makes his way through the house, peering into the living room to spot your curled figure reading on a sofa. The warm glow of a floor lamp illuminated the soft curves of your cheek. 

“Is something the matter?” You didn’t look up from the page as you addressed him. 

“No, just heading to bed.” 

“Okay, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

The start and finish of tonight’s conversation, after all, you valued a quiet house as much as he did. His colleague’s words weren’t without merit, even Alhaitham isn’t stubborn enough to deny the obvious.

Hobbies identical to each other, books upon books lined up along numerous shelves, preferring to stay within the walls of this house unless dragged out by friends. 

Your indecipherable gaze and stiff lips rival his own stone face. Perhaps that’s why the Akasha paired the two of you together. Two beings with stoic faces only another stoic would bear for a life partner, like two sides of the same coin. 

Alhaitham stops unbuttoning his shirt behind his shut bedroom door, reanalyzing the previous statement. Actually, that isn’t a very good analogy.

It'd be more accurate to compare you and him to a double-sided mirror that reflected only one view. 

“I don’t believe in soulmates.”

The man sitting across from the cafe table, introduced as Alhaitham, bluntly states, interrupting your sip of coffee, warm beverage just barely touching your lips. 

Placing your cup back down on the coffee shop table, your gaze observed the stranger who just met you moments ago - a  meeting in a small cafe arranged by Sumeru’s Ministry of Human Relations, the government body tasked with delivering the Akasha’s verdict. 

After a few breaths, you decided to humor his abrupt statement with a response. Staring straight into his teal-orange eyes, you say,  “What a coincidence, neither do I.”

————————

So then why did two nonbelievers follow the verdict handed to them? It’s simple really.

Two salaries combined can buy a sizable house. Two pairs of hands get chores done faster. Two signatures on a certificate save tax money. Life is simpler with a partner to bear some of the burden. 

Young professionals and fresh graduates aren’t known for their financial independence; a boy eager to move out of a cheap flat and away from an infuriating roommate, a girl trying to escape a noisy environment.

The circumstances had aligned. 

And that’s how it’s been for two years now, a nice quiet house. Although, you’d be lying if you weren’t thankful that the Akasha paired you with someone as handsome as Alhaitham. Silver hair, broad frame, and beryl eyes with a hint of ochre -  maybe he’s an apology gift from some fickle god.

He’s a well-rounded and capable man; perceptive enough to know not to cross boundaries drawn in the air, apt enough to not disrupt the serenity, and able to take care of himself.

Although, he could learn to launder better. 

Your lips tug down as your eyes scan over the deep wrinkles crimping the fabric of a freshly washed button-down. It looks too rumpled to look professional, even on him. A sigh falls from your lips.

The presence of slow steps make your head turn in their direction, connecting with Alhaitham’s neutral eyes, quirked gray eyebrow questioning your purpose. 

Two bodies, two rooms, and two beds.

The only time you or he crossed into the private haven of one another was when the floors needed to be mopped or shelves dusted. Owning a house means owning up to tedious chores and dividing up responsibilities spares one’s sanity from the tediousness. 

It’s best to point out the critiques now to spare your own clothes from the same fate. Picking it off the back of his chair, you show him the shameful state of the garment. 

“Leaving your clothes in the dryer for too long will create stubborn wrinkles.” You advise. 

Teal eyes glance at the shirt in your hands before they flick towards the closet rack, your own gaze follows, noting the numerous other shirts in a similar state. Another heavy sigh escapes you, it's obvious Alhaitham attempted to do laundry yesterday.

Wordlessly, you begin gathering each wrinkled garment. 

“I’ll rewash them and hang them outside, it’s the best way to smooth them out. Heat isn’t recommended for your fabrics.” You swiftly walk past him with your arms full. 

“Thank you, I’ll clean the floors then.” He takes hold of the mop against the wall.

This seamless switching of responsibilities is done with less than two sentences, the efficiency of which is only possible between two people such as yourselves. 

Button-downs are much more fickle than a casual t-shirt, using the wrong detergent or leaving it unattended for too long will cause unsightly wrinkles.

Alhaitham’s laundering skills have improved in the last two years… perhaps the singing of the dryer still slips past his preoccupied mind. 

The two of you are working professionals. Crucial insight you’ve learned from your parents: A nicely ironed shirt, neatly brushed hair, and elegantly tied ties are all it takes to make others believe in the white lie of a put-together life. 

Alhaitham was raised by his grandmother, a detail you recall from a passing conversation some time ago. It shows.

The amateur attempts at chores, the books strewn about a desk absent-mindedly, and the afternoon naps spent on a couch underneath a sunlit window are secrets only seen behind closed doors - all telltale signs of being well-loved.

‘How nice it must be.’ You thought, clipping his freshly washed button-downs to the clothesline, allowing the Sunday morning rays to shine down upon them.

A stone-faced man was once a beloved grandson. Maybe his juvenile attempts at chores were too endearing for an elderly lady to correct. 

Hidden from everyone but the audience of swaying fabric and a curious star, a bittersweet smile tugs at stiff lips. 

The clinking of forks against porcelain plates accompanies the evening news. Your eyes starring indifferently towards the TV just around the corner from the dinner table; looks like tonight's topic was the annual metrics of the Akasha.

With each passing year, these metrics only climb higher and higher, a machine learning to calculate better and better. 

“What’s your theory behind the Akasha?” you blurt out the question without looking away from the screen. 

A pair of utensils halted their movements as Alhaitham glances at the evening news. He takes a moment to wipe the corners of his mouth before humoring you.

Technically, the two of you have yet to fill your daily conversation quota. Might as well do it over dinner. 

“It’s all mathematics, the Akasha system. Pairing individuals based on collected data. Demographic, interests, and dispositions, are all factors in a pairing,” he explains in his baritone voice. 

“Mmm, then again it's all just a black box, we can’t be certain unless they choose to reveal it.” You ponder aloud. 

“Correct. Those factors are all key when it comes to compatibility. The Akasha simply uses probability. However, there’s the element of human variability.”

“Meaning it can’t always be right.” You know this, live it even.  “Is that why you don’t believe in the concept of soulmates?” Pivoting to an adjacent question, you return your attention back to the man across the table. 

“Yes, it’s an unrealistic belief.” Alhaitham sips on his wine.

“Such a brilliant conclusion, what an astute mind you have.” Honeyed-voice mimicking awe over a glass of water.

Narrowed teal eyes honed in as his glass returned to its place on the lacquered surface, unamused by your quip. 

“How about you? What theory brought you to hold the same brilliant conclusion?” 

“Do you know phenylethylamine? PEA?” Glancing up from your glass.

From his idle gaze and unmoving lips, you take his silence as a “no”. 

“It’s a stimulant that causes your heart to beat abnormally, released when you’re around a special someone. It causes what people describe as the ‘rush’ or ‘fever’ of love.” 

He says nothing, waiting for you to continue.

“But then your brain gets used to it, and the abnormality in your chest corrects itself.” You take a sip before continuing, “Nothing last forever, so why do people think love is an exception? That only one person ever will cause their hearts to flutter till the end of time?” 

A dry giggle follows the clink of your water cup against the wood. 

“How insightful.” Alhaitham takes another sip of wine to chase his sarcasm.

Maybe it was the amusing quip or how tonight’s butter chicken turned out to be exceptionally delicious, but a subtle smile curls at the edges of your lips. With today’s conversational quota fulfilled you focus your full attention back to the awaiting dinner. 

You remain ignorant to the gaze of teal eyes, oblivious to how it fixates on the faint smile complimenting the soft curves of your cheeks and plush lips. 

“...” 

The front door shuts and locks behind you, your shoes are halfway into the closet before a familiar scent beckons you towards the living room.

Quickly getting into your slippers, you trek through the entranceway and round the corner. The vivid hues of pale blues and gentle violets with pops of bright yellow catch your eyes, confirming your speculations: it’s a bouquet. 

The bundle of flowers were placed into a long-forgotten vase. Turning away from the blooms, you face the man currently thumbing through a book on the couch -the only other person with access to this quiet haven.

Turning back to observe the blooms, you note each species of flower. The Sumerian Rose, Kalpalata Lotus, and…Padisarah.

You observe how the pollen of the Padisarahs dusts the radius of the surface around the vase. It’s a fickle flower after all.

A fickle and potent-smelling flower. 

A scowl twists your face despite your best efforts, the sickly-sweet fragrance of the capricious blooms assaults your senses. 

“Please open a window.” your hand comes up to shield your nose. 

“Is something the matter?” 

“The smell is giving me a headache.” 

A headache forms from within the deepest depths of your mind, the same visceral reaction to the heavy perfumes that plagued your childhood walls. Your mother believed the saccharine scent could cover up her infidelity if she sprayed enough.

Compared to that artificial perfume, fresh Padisarahs were much tamer, but still enough to make a bitter taste appear at the back of your tongue. 

“I see.” Alhaitham sets his book down, getting up to allow the Autumn breeze in. 

Swiftly, you trudge away from the vase and its potent blooms and down the hall, eager to find an untainted corner of the house. It’d be best to sleep the headache off. 

In the morning when you round the corner back into the living room, you notice the vacant vase and table wiped clean of any speck of yellow pollen. Passing through into the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts in the air.

As you pour yourself a cup, you take note of how the trash has already been taken out, a fresh trash bag lining the bin. 

Good, flowers were a hassle to keep around the house.

———————————————————————————

“Chocolates?” You study the box of sweets left out on the kitchen table. 

“I picked them up while getting ingredients for dinner,” Alhaitham answers, busy chopping carrots. 

“You can have some.” 

You return your gaze  back to the intricately designed package in seasonal Winter colors. It’s not often that you indulge in such elegant treats, you couldn’t refuse such an offer. 

Delicately picking up a piece, the glossy dark chocolate shine looks inviting, you can see the quality in these sweets. Placing the small chunk onto your tongue, savoring the rich flavor. Not too sweet and not too bitter. 

Using your tongue to maneuver it towards your teeth you bite into its center, only for your tastebuds to be assaulted by a foul flavor. The distinct and sharp tang of alcohol and the revolting aftertaste of bourbon spoils the sweetness. 

Refusing to allow the detestable flavor to remain on your tongue, you briskly swipe up a few napkins, spitting the foul sweet out. You frown at the stubborn tang of bourbon which threatens to ruin your appetite for dinner. 

“You can have the rest.” You throw out the crumpled napkin. 

“Are they of poor quality?” The tapping of the knife paused. 

“They’re just not to my taste.” 

“In that case, I hope tonight's dinner is.” Alhaitham resumes his task. 

Taking a glass out from the cupboard, you fill the cup with fresh water before gulping it down, washing the foul tang of alcohol from your tongue, and even fouler memories of the stench of sour wine and crushed cans.

Wiping the escaped droplets off with the back of your hand, you go for a second glass. Hopefully, you can cleanse your palate. 

———————————————————————————

“Do you have plans tonight?” Alhaitham’s words make you stop in the middle of the hallway. 

You have a book ready in hand for a night of reading on the sofa under the soft glow of the floor lamp. You know his eyes can see that,  gaze questioning his intentions. 

“I was given two tickets to a movie, would you like to accompany me?” He holds out the slips of paper. 

As your eyes pass over the printed font, you recognized the title, a name picked up within the chatter of coworkers at the office. It’s An adaptation of a famous light novel from Inazuma, and the reviews seem positive. 

“Sure.”

You could get out of the house a little more. 

…

It seems like everyone wants to see a movie tonight, the theater lobby is filled with bustling crowds, families with excited kids, and couples holding hands.

And then there’s you and Alhaitham. Standing side by side, his hands carrying two carbonated drinks, your hands holding an overpriced bag of popcorn, walking toward the room printed on the tickets. 

“C5…C6, looks like we got good spots.” You settled into the plush seats, careful not to spill the bag. 

Alhaitham hums in response, placing your drink in the cupholder. More and more people filed into the screening room, waves of ‘excuse me’s and ‘sorry’s rolling through the space until all the seats were finally filled. The lights begin to dim as the opening logo booms through the sound system. 

The cinematography was beautiful, the musical scores accompanying the plot pleasing to the ears, and the popcorn perfectly seasoned.

It’s been a while since you’ve last gone to a movie theater, maybe you should go more often. As you brought a few more pieces of popcorn to your lips, your eyes travel toward Alhaitham.

His arms crossed as the light of the silver screen reflects onto his skin, noticing your stare, his teal gaze connects with yours. 

Moving the striped bag closer to his frame, you offer him some popcorn, he paid for the refreshments. It'd be a shame if he didn’t get to enjoy them too.

His large hand reachs over and takes a handful, your curiosity wanting to see his reaction to the snack. However, a piercing shrill snaps your attention away. 

Just a few rows away, a woman stood up from her seat, throwing a bag of popcorn at the man sitting beside her. Screaming words you couldn’t quite make out as they merges with the onscreen dialogue and equally furious shouts of the now popcorn-covered man.

Their thunderous voices were only amplified by the acoustics of the theater. 

They’re both standing now, still hurling insults and grievances one after another. There’s a ringing in your ears, their faceless silhouettes in the dim theater replaying a scene you’ve seen many times before. It’s as if they’ve finally developed a conscious, now aware of the stares and glares thrown their way.

Oh, look they’re leaving now, still fighting the whole way out of the screening room. 

With the disturbance now cleared, a low wave of murmuring swept through the audience before dying out. The dialogue and soundtrack were audible again, the atmosphere reverting to how it was.

You didn’t feel like snacking on the popcorn anymore. Gaze focus on the fluffy puffs for the rest of the movie. 

“Did you enjoy the film?” An indifferent voice resounds from your right side. 

Walking out as the credit rolled in the background, following the flow of traffic toward the exit. You were walking by Alhaitham’s side, but your mind was elsewhere, a subtle frown etched on your lips. 

“It was fine, just crowded and loud.” Your voice was just as flat. 

“Oh.”

Tossing the unfinished bag of popcorn way into the nearest trash can, the two of you continue on the silent journey home.

Perhaps, it’s best if you just stayed curled up with a book. 

“Eh? It’s been three years and you’ve never gotten your wife flowers? I knew you were cold-hearted, but not to this extent. Here, a quick bouquet of some fresh flowers I picked.” 

“You should gift her some sweets, maybe then you two can talk a choco-lot… Did you get the joke?”

“Are you serious?! Almost four years and you never took her on a date?? You’re hopeless! Take these tickets and take her to the movies. By the way, you’ll have to pay for them.”

Alhaitham wasn’t sure what made his colleagues so invested in his marriage, maybe a projection of their own lack of one. To his colleagues, you were just as much of an enigma as the ashen-haired man.

Any passing comment, no matter how vague or curt, would bring forth an onslaught of unsolicited advice. And it was for that very reason within the walls of your home these details shall stay. 

Alhaitham isn’t sure which was more irksome, the uninformed guidance of bachelors, or the fact he was the one who actually tested each suggestion. Regardless, at least these trials were fruitful in the sense he can gauge your dislikes now. 

You despise flowers for their fickle messes and scent. You’re revolted by overpriced chocolates. You detested rowdy theaters and subpar films. 

Four now going on to five years, and these were his results. Frankly, he didn’t have to subject you to such experiments for these results, because they aligned with his own preferences.

A waste of time, disturbing your peace for the sake of his own curiosity. 

A heavy sigh falls from his lips as he sets the bucket of water down, one hand holding a mop as the other turns the knob of your bedroom.

It’s a Sunday, meaning the floors needed to be mopped. Your door's hinges sing as they swing open only to be abruptly silenced as Alhaitham stood motionless under the door frame. 

Oh. He should’ve knocked.

You were in the midst of getting dressed in front of your floor-length mirror, glimpses of smooth skin peeking out from under baggy fabric. Before he could stop, teal eyes followed the dark fabric reaching just down to the middle of your thighs and draping low on one shoulder. Your fingers were in the middle of buttoning the clearly oversized shirt as you turned back to focus on him. 

Blank gaze traveling up your soft lips set in a neutral position and meeting your deadpan stare, Alhaitham’s conscience restarts.

Today was Sunday, which meant it was laundry day yesterday, and it was the ashen-haired man’s turn to wash and dry the clothes. Somehow, his button-down got mixed in with your blouses, leading to your unamused reaction. 

“I’ll be more mindful next time, did my shirt dull any of your whites?” Forcing his eyes to avert, a late attempt at respecting your privacy. 

“It’s fine, fortunately, the dye didn’t bleed out during the wash.” You turned away as your hand pulls the draping fabric up your shoulder. 

“Just place the shirt over the chair in my room, I’ll take care of it later.”

“Okay.” 

Once more your door sings as he shuts it on the way back into the hall, deciding to clean the floors of his room first and allowing you to change into your rightful clothes. It was early noon and a weekend, meaning there was no reason for Alhaitham to brush out his sleep-tousled hair. Hopefully, messy gray locks were enough to conceal burning ears. 

———————————————————————————

“The Evolution of Everything.” His eyes scan over the title held out in front of him. 

A newly published scientific journal filled with freshly collected data, the book's spine still in mint condition. Alhaitham takes note of the identical copy held in your hand. 

“You seemed interested in this genre, so I picked up a copy for you.” You motion for him to take it. 

There wasn’t a rule etched in stone that forbade the sharing of books within these quiet walls. The books on your shelves have been more interesting than his as of late. A pattern of folded corners inflecting more and more pages of the books lining your bookshelves, evidence of a certain man’s meddling.

 The warning glare every time you smoothed out a creased page directed his way didn’t seem to be enough to stop the unconscious habit of his hands.

It looks like you’re trying out a new solution, getting him his own copy to prevent the infection from engulfing each and every corner of your bookshelves. 

“Thank you, I’ll read it soon.” He accepts the peace offering. 

With that, you made your way back to the sofa. Flipping open your own copy, fingers gently making sure to not crumple the delicate pages or crease the pristine spine. Alhaitham compares it to the book currently held in his own hands.

An older book, while not falling apart or tattered, it’s obvious the man has thumbed through its pages. A well-loved book as his grandmother would’ve described it. 

Alhaitham needs to stop this practice he never corrected in childhood. 

———————————————————————————

“Alhaitham.” You greet him at the entranceway. 

Said man is currently placing his outside shoes away into the closet, returning from an uneventful day at his office. You usually got home before him, but this was the first time you’ve waited for him at the front door. He notes that you seem to be holding something behind your back. 

“Here.” Bring your arms out from your back, the distinct crinkling of plastic was heard.

Teal eyes study the gift basket filled with bath products, body wash, shampoo, conditioner, and lotion all nicely packaged with a satin ribbon. 

“It’s to thank you for helping me with errands lately,” you explain. 

Recently, you’ve been asking him to accompany you to the cluttered streets lined with stalls and haggling merchants. With his towering frame and larger hands, he could carry heavier bags and part a path through the pushy crowds easier. You were using your resources to maximize efficiency. 

“There’s no need to trouble yourself with this, I’m just doing my part. But thank you.” He takes the basket from your hands, eyes remaining collected. 

Just as the basket leaves your hands, the distinct chime of your phone goes off as ‘Bahram’ flashes across the screen. The name of your boss. 

“Excuse me, I have to take this call. Dinner will be ready in half an hour.” Turning away, you walk toward the kitchen. 

The he hums in response, slipping into his inside shoes. With brisk steps, he covers the distance from the front door to his room, closing then leaning against the solid oak.

Sharply inhaling as one hand balancing the basket of toiletries and the other holding his head. 

You’ve always prefer to maintain the serenity of the house. Resolving strife with proactive actions or brief comments. Not once in these past five years did you ever nag him, you’re too pragmatic for that. At times it’s a curse more than a blessing, evidenced by the gift basket staring back at him mockingly. 

Although Alhaitham was messy at times, he knows the importance of hygiene. Teeth brushed twice a day, a shower taken every day before dinner, and deodorant applied daily.

However, the temperatures this Summer were at record highs, even for Sumeru. The packed market streets pushing the two of you closer than usual, perhaps he’s no match for the heat this time. 

Washing his hair twice and his body thrice, Alhaitham finishes his prolonged shower by gurgling some mouthwash for good measure. Walking into the kitchen in a fresh set of clothes and his hair still damp. The table set with potato boat and some steak. Impassive eyes met inscrutable eyes as you motion for him to take a seat.

Your nose remained relaxed, meaning you were probably satisfied with his efforts. 

Alhaitham makes a silent reminder to research some cologne after he finishes washing the dishes. One that isn’t overbearing nor too weak to linger. 

How embarrassing it is, five years in and the stoic prodigy known as Alhaitham is still testing the bounds of his wife’s patience. Selfish experiments and habits he can’t seem to correct conflicting with your wishes for a clean, serene, and quiet home. 

The entire reason why you bothered signing your name next to a stone-faced man who said ‘I don’t believe in soulmates’ before asking ‘How are you?’.

Flowers, chocolates, and movie tickets.

You weren’t oblivious to the sentiment behind these arbitrary actions. In a way, it was expected. A husband wants to get closer to his wife, it’s simple chemistry.

The human mind craves connection, oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin released at the sight of gifted blooms, crafted sweets, and from simply sitting within each other's presence.

A chemical cocktail the mind gets drunk on. 

Alhaitham isn’t immune to it and neither are you. Even if you were able to stiffen your lips, steady your gaze, and hide those flushed cheeks. Nothing you did could quell the abnormality in your chest, was Alhaitham having the same issue?

There comes the first hurdle, the unknown which hung in the air formed over years of peaceful silence. The thought of two stoic faces peering into each other’s eyes as two monotonous voices stated the obvious would make any romantic keel over and die.

It’d be too embarrassing, especially when it’s already been awkward. 

Headache caused by sickly sweet blossoms, spitting out pricey sweets, and dulled reaction to a critically acclaimed film. None of this was Alhaitham’s fault, how can you blame someone for something they don’t know?

He never asked, you never told.

No one knew what happened within that noisy house with empty bottle-covered floors of two ‘soulmates’ who refused to release their crushing grips. All except the three unfortunate souls trapped within its Padisarah-scented walls. 

Still, his keen eyes didn’t miss those details, reassessing his actions before ultimately channeling more of his energy into chores around the house instead of frivolous gifts. What a proactive husband. 

A sting of guilt felt as you recall his sincere attempts at trying to cross an icy bridge. What should you say? ‘Thank you, you tried.’ Sounded far too condescending, it could even lead to a huffy fight. Something you’ve been good at avoiding these past five years. 

Marriage is filled with compromises, meeting each other halfway along the road of life, side by side. So you tried this time.

Curiosity guiding you as it did a naive hero towards the brilliance of a red star. 

———————————————————————————

Your first attempt was inspired by an article that popped up on your phone’s feed, something about wearing your partner’s shirt to make them flush, nonsense known as the ‘boyfriend shirt’.

You still gave it a try. Swiping up one of your husband’s black button-downs one Saturday night, only building up the confidence to put it on the next morning. 

Your original plan was to just casually wear it around the house as you got the Sunday morning chores done, but that got thrown out when Alhaitham suddenly opened your door when one-third of the buttons were still undone.

A moment of tense silence followed, impressively you managed to maintain a cool facade. Grasping the opportunity to leave this stale silence with an expertly crafted response. 

———————————————————————————

In the end, he just wanted his shirt back. So for your next attempt, you toned it down, no longer taking advice from nonsensical articles. 

Recently, Alhaitham has taken more of an interest in your bookshelf. More of the once pristine edges of your books folder here and there. If it was anyone else, you’d make them buy you a new copy immediately, but for now, you simply smoothed out the paper.

If he wants to read the theories and studies that muse you, why don’t you read them together?

However, two bodies pressed together on a sofa trying to read the small print along pages at the same time is simply uncomfortable. Plus, Alhaitham reads much faster than you. 

To ensure a pleasant reading experience for both of you, two copies were the best solution. 

He read it after you. 

———————————————————————————

Your next attempts used thinly veiled excuses to get Alhaitham to accompany you to the bustling markets of Sumeru City. In a way, trying to make up for that lackluster movie experience.

Only for it to soon turn into using Alhaitham to carry arm fulls of bags as he shielded you from the push and pull of the busy crowd. 

Perhaps you should stick to gift-giving, to spare your husband from working like a Sumpter Beast in this weather.

But besides books, what should you give him? He’s just like you, if he sees something he wants, he’d just buy it with his own money. 

On the way home from work, you caught sight of a shop, one which displayed handmade soaps and fancy lotions. Huh, Alhaitham often takes your lotions, maybe you should get him his own. A bell ringing overhead announces your entrance into the cozy store. 

“Welcome!” A bright voice chirped as a shop assistant with vibrant red hair and an equally vibrant smile bounded toward you. 

“I’m Nilou, how may I help you today?”

“I’m just looking for some lotion.” You politely responded, trying to ignore the faint fragrance of Pardisarahs. 

“We’ve got plenty of hand-made ones, for you or for someone else?”

“For my husband.”

“Oh? What does he like?”

You paused for a moment, lips pressed together in contemplation before deciding. 

“Something fresh and not overbearing, nothing made from Pardisarahs.” If he liked using your lotions, then he must have the same scent preferences. 

“We just got this new lotion that fits the criteria! Oh! But it pairs very well with this body wash… actually this shampoo and conditioner set is also a good fit. Oh! What if we bundle them?”

What was supposed to be a simple lotion turned into you leaving the small shop with an entire gift basket. A sigh leaves your lips, looks like you’re not as immune to sales tactics as you originally thought. 

That night you handed the ribbon-wrapped basket to Alhaitham. Even if he isn’t interested in expensive handcrafted soaps, he’ll still use them out of necessity, they were a gift after all.

However, it doesn’t seem you had to worry about that. He used up the fancy soaps and lotions. 

The opulent scent lingering on his skin and towel-dried hair, looks like your gift made you discover a new side of your husband.

He enjoys really long showers, evidenced by your rising water bills. 

Still, the vast expanse of uncertainty didn’t shrink, not even one bit. Just like the distance between an outstretched hand toward the sun. 

Books, lotions, and walks through a market, looks like it was all for naught. 

The mutual agreement to not lock eyes, these cold halls, these awkward dinners filled with nothing but the clattering of silverware and plates. Where have you seen these patterns before?

Oh, you’ve seen these in your childhood home. 

Ah, was this a curse passed on to you? What an awful wedding gift from uninvited parents to a courthouse office. 

Clutching the straps of your bag tighter, your legs quicken their pace, wanting to get out of the crowded streets filled with the mumbles and pushes of people freshly off the clock.

With each stranger knocking into your shoulder another drop is added to a bottle. White knuckles gripping on your straps as a pressure rises within the bottle’s glass body, threatening to shatter it.

You can’t let this continue, the mounting pressure will sooner or later detonate into a hideous mess. Best to avoid that scenarios. Eyes catching sight of a small reprieve from the crowd, you direct yourself there.

 The small store front provides you with some shelter for your lungs to breathe. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. The pressure subsides just a bit. There’s still room in there, you can suppress a little more, you can endure a little longer. 

Eyelids fluttering open, you recognized the name of the shop. It’s the fancy soap shop, one with the vivacious sales assistant.

Peering through the glass you searched for that brilliant shade of crimson. And you found it, right next to glimmering silver hair. It’s like your body forgot how to breathe. 

From the rumbling of the late evening rush, all you could do was read their lips from behind a thick glass door.

Petite pink lips giggling behind clasped hands as Nilou looks up at Alhaitham, tilting her head to the side as if she asked him a question. His lips remained stiff, but teal gaze reflected crimson as they softened. Something you never witnessed within the quiet walls of your home. 

Looks like you found the cause of the rising water bills, perhaps Alhaitham likes the smell of Padisarahs. 

Your bottle couldn’t contain the ocean anymore. 

It wasn’t an Earth-shattering catastrophic event, no tidal waves crashing down, no flood flood devastating everything in its path. Only a defeated ‘pop’ and its pathetic echo as your bottle finally overflowed.

Bitter sea-foam fizzled out as it made an unseen mess. 

Listlessly, you rejoined the rolling crowd, letting the eb and flow of its movement carry you all the way to the front door of a false haven. Systematically inserting the key, placing your shoes into the closet, and shutting your room door behind your back. Staring at the clean floor with its intricate wood grain. 

However, your mind weren’t processing any of it, busy with its calculations.

When did his fever start? That one Autumn night with a chaste bouquet. What day is it now? The cusp of Summer. How long has it been? In a few months, it’ll be three years.

A lecture from an inescapable past resurfaces.

————————

“Hey, kiddo.” 

Slurred words made you stop in your tracks, small hands tightening their grip on your backpack straps.

You weren’t quiet enough, the careful steps of your feet were rendered useless when it came to the creaky wooden floors of this house. Your lungs burned for air, but you didn’t want to breathe in the stench which permeated this air. 

The aroma of cheap perfume, sour wine, and cheap beer. The source of this foul smell? The freshly awakened man laying on the couch just a few inches away: a man known as your father.

Still trying to reserve your stored supply of oxygen, all you offered the drunkard was a firm hum. Not that he’d care, judging from the crushed cans and empty bottles littering the path, he’s probably too far gone. 

“Did you know love is a chemical? Something called ‘phenylethylamine’?” A hiccup interrupts his sentence, but he continues, much to your dismay. 

“Haha, it makes your heart beat faster and your cheeks flush because it’s considered an amphetamine, one of the most powerful drugs.” His stumbling hand blindly reached for another can, knocking over empty shells until it found one with just a bit of liquor. 

“Too bad the high can only last three years.”

Your disinterested gaze trailed off down the empty hall, legs itching to break away from the lecture you’ve heard numerous times before. Lungs begging to inhale the untainted air of your room, the only sanctuary this hollow home held.

Just a few minutes was all you needed, then you’ll start mopping these foul floors. 

A clink of aluminum hitting the wooden boards draws your attention back to your father who had finished moisturizing his throat with another swig of beer. 

“Stay away from that drug, kiddo” A sloppy grin stretched across his face as he stared up at a blank ceiling. 

The sight made your arms bristle, seeing a smile on your father’s face was uncanny. Something you’ve never seen at the dinner table, just silent scowls and disgruntled glares constantly exchanged over a subpar meal. 

Wanting him to finish this one-sided conversation, you gave another firm hum, every now and then glazing back toward the hall. 

“Or you’ll end up like this old man.” He wraps the conversation up with a bitter laugh, one which resonated off the blank walls. 

————————

Maybe you should’ve heeded your father’s words. A brilliant scholar to the public but a pathetic drunk when within the confines of a cluttered, noisy house is still a brilliant scholar. 

This was your punishment for straying away from your beliefs. You reached your hand out towards the fire despite knowing it’d  hurt, and you fell in love. Now look at where you are. 

How utterly laughable, you, the ever-bright Ms. Perfect, who’s broken love down to its base form of chemical compounds, fell victim to the addiction that was love.

So blindsided by it.

The fog of love is slowly running its course through him. Once the trees abandon their vibrant greens for shriveled browns in the Autumn, his fever will be over. There’s no such thing as an endless Summer.

How did you not see this coming? Covering your eyes with ignorant hands, blatantly ignoring the signs right in front of your nose.

No more flowers, no more chocolates, and no more movies. 

Turning back around, you took note of a figure in a floor length mirror. Indifferent gaze identical to how your husband looks at you.

Two sides of the same mirror, what’s what you and him are. What’s the use of that? Shiny surfaces point off in opposite directions, yet only ever reflecting one view. What’s the point of having two sides then?

You don’t intrigue him, you can’t show him his blind spots, and you can’t reflect to him a view he’s never seen. Same perceptions, same hobbies, same expressionless faces, how stale it must be. 

It’s much more interesting to have a wife who’ll smile at receiving flowers, a wife whose eyes light up at chocolate, and a wife who’d blabber on about a movie as Alhaitham listens intently. The beating of his heart is starting with someone new.

Emerging out of your thoughts, you stare directly at the person in your mirror.

Dull eyes stared right back, light dimmed from years of staring at a bright star grasping at its warm rays in substitution of a cold house, only for your fingers to slip pass right through.

Idiotic girl, you can’t touch the sun, not even Icarus did. 

An unlovable child grew into an unlovable adult. Add that to your footnote, so you’ll never forget this lesson again. The fool in the mirror finally looks away. 

It didn’t matter if Icarus smiled or laughed as he tumbled from the sky. Silly girl, did you forget what happens in the end of that tale? He drowned alone. 

Drowning isn’t like what the movies show. The thrashing of limbs against cold waves, the garbled screams under the water, all accompanied by the ominous soundtrack crafted by a sound master. It’s all dramatized for the silver screen. 

Muscles pushing through the cold exhaustion, mouth agape but prioritizing large and fast gulps of oxygen over cries for help, followed by the melodic lull of water lapping over eardrums until the head disappears under its surface. Never to breach it again. 

It’s possible for a person to drown in a pool full of people. Just like how it was possible for you to feel alone despite having your husband just across the lacquered expanse of the dinner table. Forks and knives clacking porcelain plates.

It’s a silent death. 

For once you’re grateful to attend a nugatory dinner hosted by your company. Venue filled with superficial smiles and handshakes all over food served on sliver platters. Even if the heels are killing you, you’d rather not wallow in a quiet house.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips, catching someone’s attention. 

“What a heavy sigh, here have some wine to ease the burden.” A glass filled with fragrant wine was held out in front of you. 

Your eyes travel up the hand which offers the vile beverage to you, sights landing on the face of your boss, Bahram. Pushy as always, always testing the limits of your loyalty to a nice pension and dental insurance.

As always you politely push the glass away, uttering a firm “no thank you.”

“Oh c’mom Ms. Perfect, you look like you could use a drink.” He pushes the glass closer. 

 Stares from all around the formal dinner table hone in, the weight heavy on your shoulders. Stakeholders and coworkers turn away from their shallow conversations to watch the brewing spectacle just across the table.

That’s right, you have to be professional, where was your crafted mask? Make use of all those years observing the masters of deception you knew as your parents. 

So you accept the vile glass.

Before the aroma could register on your palate, you emptied the whole glass. Not a single drip escaped past your lips. It took all your strength to no scowl at the sweetly bitter and alcoholic flavor. 

“Oh? Ms. Perfect is drinking tonight?” Some nameless coworker mused. 

Ah, the name lightly tossed around at the office with oblivious chuckles and ignorant smiles. You despise being called that, but not as much as you despise being told ‘you’re just like your father’ and ‘you’re acting like your mother’.

Better to be Ms. Perfect, so disgruntled ‘soulmates’ can’t compare you to their flawed counterpart.

“Do you like this wine? Have some more.” Eagerly, your boss fills the glass once more. 

Staring at the beckoning liquid swirling in the glimmering cup, as the weight of those stares force your hands to accept it once more. 

Maybe you should’ve just stayed home. 

“I should really be trying to sell you our products but… I think you’ll find a better gift at another store. Here, I’ll write the address down for you! They have the best jewels, I’m sure you’ll find something for your wife there!” Hastily the shop assistant scribbles on a notepad before pushing the slip into his palm. 

“Just don’t tell my manager.” Clasping her hands in front of her mouth, signaling to him to keep a secret. 

Alhaitham simply nods, examining the address in his hands. He hasn’t tried jewelry yet, but a ring would look nice on your hand. Maybe you’d think so too.

“You really love her, don’t you mister?” Nilou notes how attentively his hands smooth over the address. 

Pausing for a moment, Alhaitham envisions the softness of your cheeks shifting as that tender smile spreads across your lips. Yours eyes reflecting the light off the polished and cut gem as he slips it onto your bare finger. 

“I do.” Unable to stop the softening of his gaze. 

———————————————————————————

A ring still left in its miserable black box, stowed away in the depths of a drawer. A sigh slips out of him just like how he let another opportunity to place the jewel on your finger pass. You’re attending a company dinner tonight, a rare occasion requiring you to dress up.

The dress draped over your figure and curves just right and highlighted the contours of your body. He wanted to tell you this earlier as you were leaving, too bad he was occupied with swallowing ‘stay home’. 

There’s an annoying itch in the deepest depths of his mind. Covetous hands crawled up his spine, they tried to convince his own fingers to grasp around your wrist and pull you back into the house.

Alhaitham shakes that itch away, refocusing his attention onto your bookshelf in front of him.

You have a life and responsibilities outside these walls, he can’t overstep the boundary to block you from your individuality. Running a finger along the tops of the neatly lined books, searching for something to redirect his impulses.

Momentum halting when his finger sunk into pages when he expected the firm edge of a spine. The force crumpling the paper, immediately he pulls it into his hands, smoothing out the folded edges. Title catching his attention. 

The Lifespan of Love, the only book where the spine wasn’t facing out. Flipping it to the back, Alhaitham scans the blurb, noting the portrait of the scholar who authored it.

A familiar face, a professor who’s lectures he barely attended. A distinguished researcher and mentor in the eyes of his old university.

The sight of his face made Alhaitham recall a scene he once witnessed. 

————————

The halls of the Psychology department were desolate, as they always were. A much-appreciated reprieve from crowded foyers as a quiet student walks to his next exam in the department next door. 

Just as his hand reached up to activate his headphones, two voices caught his attention, the high shrills of a woman and the raspy shouts of a man leaking out from an office door left ajar.

It has nothing to do with him, Alhaitham know this, but he still had 30 minutes to kill before the exam.

Teal eyes peer through the gap between the oak doorframe.

A man the student recongizes, but the scowl and flush of rage twisted his face into an unrecongizable mess. The professor juts his finger towards the woman as foul names left his mouth, the same mouth which lectured the brightest minds of Sumeru. 

The woman screams back equally loathsome words, tears leaving mascara trails down her red cheeks. Suddenly, she grabs a lamp off his desk and hurls it to the floor. 

For a brief moment, the scholar pauses as his eyes scanned over the broken debris scattered along the floor. Then his fist slammed into the solid oak of his desk, thud so forceful the office ratted with the poor furniture.

His shouts resume, volume escalating by the minute. 

Alhaitham backs away from the door, turning on his noise-canceling headphones. He’s satisfied his curiosity enough, walking off to his exam. 

————————

A peculiar sight behind the superficial mask of a respected professor with his jolly grin and light hearted jokes with students. Inspecting the name printed just underneath the portrait, a furrow forms between his brow as he scrutinizes the spelling closer.

The professor’s last name was spelled the same way as yours. 

Oh. So this is the source you were citing back then. Numbers and figures published by a notable name backing your rebuttal to the societal notion of a soulmate. Inquisiveness rearing its impatient nose, inciting his hands to choose this book as his subject tonight.

You never told him, so he never asked. This was a chance to peer into a view sealed behind your closed lips.  

To study, dissect, and analyze the resources which congergated together to form the you of today. Alhaitham isn’t going to deny such an opportunity.

Teal eyes glance at the ticking hands of a clock, he’s got a good few hours of reading before you return.

The distinct rumble of an engine leaking in through the living room window interrupts his peace, the slam of car doors causing Alhaitham to promptly fold over the corner of the page he has yet to finish.

The dinner must have ended.

Getting up from a cushy couch, Alhaitham makes his way toward the entranceway.

His keen ears picking up the unmistakable hearty chuckle of a man, Alhaitham stills for a brief second before continuing to the door. 

Before the chime of the doorbell had the chance to sound throughout the home, Alhaitham already pried open the front door.

Teal gaze darkening as they examine the display on the front steps. 

Your arm around the shoulder of another man while his arm was snaked around your waist, pressing your body against his as he supports you up the steps.

The sound of the hinges directs the man’s attention to the homeowner currently staring at him, oblivious to the way Alhaitham’s grip threatens to crush a metal handle behind solid oak. 

“Oh! You must be Ms. Perfect’s husband. I’m Bahram.” The man greeted.

Alhaitham already knows him. He’s seen that name flash up enough times across your phone. He’s seen you pick up no matter the hour and step out into an empty room.

A new habit of yours which started some months earlier.

“Haha! She drank a bit too much tonight.” The jovial man continues, his hand still resting on your hip.

Drank? You drank? You don’t so much as glance at Alhaitham’s wine cabinet at home, yet you drank with this man? The begins of scowl start to set into Alhaitham’s face. 

“I’ll bring her inside for ya.” Bahram takes a step forward only to be blocked by a towering frame topped with ashen hair. 

“I’ll take it from here.” Alhaitham barely bit back a pointed tone, forcibly smoothing it over to make his voice pass as neutral. 

Prying that hand off your hip and your arm from Bahram’s neck, Alhaitham’s strong hold supports your slumping figure against his own body.

Pulling you across the threshold of the front door, finally putting some distance between you and that damn boss of yours. 

“Have a goodnight.” Venomous lie rolling off Alhaitham’s tongue as he firmly shuts the oak door, not bothering with any more pleasantries. 

It didn’t take much effort to carry you into the living room. Setting you down on the sofa then kneeling down with dexterous fingers, Alhaitham freed your feet from the chokehold of those heels.

You make a mental note to throw them out tomorrow morning. 

“Thank you,” you breathed out, relieved to finally be home. 

Your husband doesn’t respond as he walk away to place your shoes into the closet. The lingering taste of wine churns your stomach, you needed some water to wash it out.

Carefully, you amble into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with fresh water. Praying it can finally rid you of that foul flavor. 

After three glasses of wine, your stakeholders and coworkers finally turned their attention elsewhere. You’ve entertained them enough.

Granting you the freedom to push away anymore glasses your boss offered, only getting him to stop after you agreed to his offer of driving you home.

What a troublesome night, your mood sourer than it has been for the past few months. 

As you fill up your glass again your ears catch the pattering of Alhaitham’s steps as he trails into the kitchen, stopping only a few paces away watching you glup down your second glass. 

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” His husky voice resounds from behind you as his finger taps against the marble countertop. 

“No.” You fill rinse out the cup, the stubborn grip of wine not releasing your tastebuds just yet. 

“Oh? It sure looks like you did.” 

Your body stiffens as your turn the faucet off, glancing over your shoulder with eyes narrowing. 

“What do you mean by that?” Your tone a bit more sharp than you’d like it to be. 

“I’m certain you know exactly what I mean.” Alhaitham stops his tapping as he lays his palm flat on the table, teal eyes boring straight into you. 

“Well, well looks like your assumption is wrong.” 

“I doubt it, stop mincing your words and just say you enjoyed a few drinks with your boss.” 

Your body turns around fully, glaring stare connecting with his teal one. Ticking of a clock sounding throughout the quiet kitchen.

So that’s why he’s behaving like this, partners with wandering eyes tend to project their hypocritical insecurities onto the other after all. 

“Then why don’t you say you’ve been enjoying your visits to Nilou?” Something more venomous than sour wine drips off your words. 

“How is she related to this conversation?” His eyes narrowing at you, unlike the same teal irises that reflected the scarlet of her hair. 

“You know exactly what I mean.” You spat his own words back at him, maneuvering around him as you make your way back to your room. 

At this point you weren’t sure what was the cause of the headache threatening to form.

The wine? This deafening silence? Or the thought of Padisarahs?

You don’t care, you want to go to bed. The thuds of his steps weren’t far behind yours as you trek through the halls.

“Our conversation hasn’t concluded.” His deep voice ringing in your ears. 

“Yes it has.” Your room was just in sight.

“No it hasn’t.” His hand encloses around your wrist.

There you were, halfway through the doorframe of your room with the pull of his hand preventing you from getting the rest you want.

There’s no longer any space left in a shattered bottle, just a rippling ocean getting rougher and rougher with each deep breath. 

“Can’t you be honest?” His ironic, paradoxical words causes the tide to crush against each other. 

“Can’t you be honest? Do you think I wouldn’t notice your showers right as you come back from ‘work’? You’ve been driving the water bill up with your cover-up efforts.” Glaring right into those damn beryl eyes, frown breaking your stiff lips. 

“Cover-up? What a bold accusation coming from the same person who awaits a call everynight.” He mirrors your scowl. 

“Maybe its because work offers better company than this stifling house.” 

Alhaitham grip tightens on your wrist as his lips press into a firm line, indecipherable stare weighing down upon your frame. His broad shoulders rise as he takes a deep breath. 

“Strip,” he commands.

“Have you gone mad?” You snap back, unable to budge in his hold. 

“Yes, furious even.” 

It didn’t take much effort for him to make his way into your room, pulling you in as well. You could barely keep up with it all, glaring at him but it didn’t affect him one bit.

The movement causes your dress to shift. Glancing down you realize a strap of your dress slipped off, leaving one side of your breast dangerously exposed. 

With swift strides, he arrives at the edge of your bed. It’s rare for you to dawn such attire, applying a lovely shade of crimson to those plush lips, and tying your hair up so nicely. Did you get all dressed up for Bahram? Why couldn’t it be for his viewing only? 

Tsk, noisy nonsense is cluttering his mind, those the claws of a green-eyes monster digging into his last shred of restraint. Seizing his rationality in its ugly, greedy hands tighter and tighter the longer your soft thighs pressed against his tense body.

Crashing into those crimson lips of yours, one hand positioning your face to allow his tongue to catch yours by surprise. Letting the two muscles dance together as his other hand explored the expanse of your body, pulling up the silky fabric to grant his palm the pleasure of gracing your soft thighs. 

‘Oh, so this is what he wants,’ you thought as your lips moved against his.

‘Fine, might as well experience what he’s been doing behind your back.’ The fingers of your free hand tangling themselves into his hair, tugging at ashen locks with disregard. 

Unfortunately, the pesky need for oxygen made Alhaitham release your lips. Chest panting as his darkened gaze observed the state of your lips. Crimson smeared over the corner of your glossy lips. You put so much effort into painting them, making sure they were nicely defined. 

However, it felt so cathartic to know that he’s the one who messed them up, no one at the party saw them like this. Only him. 

“I’ll ask you one last time, strip now.” Not letting go of your face. 

“Go to hell,” you spat out. 

And the last chain broke, dignity and self-control reduced to nothing more than ash as his hunger commanded him. Go to hell you say?

“Then I’ll take you with me,” he sneers through clenched teeth, pushing you into the mattress face down. One hand restraining those disobedient hands of yours behind your back.

Before protest could leave your lips a rip resounds through the hot air.  Alhaitham knows he should be delicate with it. That he should carefully pull the zipper down your back, letting the fabric naturally drape off your frame.

 However, a man who starved for six years now knows nothing about patience. 

You feel the silky fabric slip off, leaving you in nothing but your panties. Teal eyes honing in on the darkened patch on the thin fabric, a dry chuckle leaving his lips.

“Wet just from this? Or were you wet during dinner too?” He pulls the fickle fabric off. 

You wiggle in his hold, face flushed with frustrated embarrassment at your current predicament. However, in terms of strength you’ll always lose to Alhaitham. A violent flinch jolts your body as he runs a finger runs along your glistening slit. 

“What a lewd thing, has he seen this slutty hole of yours?” Alhaitham watches the way your cunt quivers with each stroke of his digit. 

“Do really you think I’d sleep with my boss?” Your voice slightly muffled by the sheets as you turn your face to the side. 

“I need to confirm it.”

With two fingers, he spreads your soft pussy lips apart, keen eyes observing the trail of slick starting to drip down from between them. He sees the muscles of your entrance clenching around nothing, he glides a digit in, feeling your slick walls clamp around it. Clear essence drooling out. He hums in satisfaction before sliding his finger out, you bite into the sheet to silence any sounds. 

“Enjoying this?” He muses, fingers spreading your cunt again. 

You don’t respond, but the glare you’re sending his way makes his lip curl into a smirk. For once he could read the emotions behind your stoic eyes, he wants to see more.

Trailing his fingers up your slit until they bump into a hard nub making your body twitch. Softly pinching your clit between two fingers, he slowly rolls the senesitve bundle of nerves as you bite harder to stop your moans. 

Cunt slick but unstretched, clit throbbing but not swollen, only your essence coating his fingers. Looks Bahram hasn’t gotten the chance to taste you yet.

Calming the thrashing of a green-eyed beast just slightly. However, this wasn’t enough. Alhaitham feels the parchedness of his throat as his eyes scan over your glistening slit.  

Alhaitham once believed that the touches exchanged when his fingers brush against yours while passing plates, when you pull a blanket up his napping frame, or when your bodies briefly pressed against each other as he helps you hang the laundry out was enough to satisfy him. That he could sustain off just borrowing your lotions. 

Such a false assumption, a foolish one even. As the heat radiating off your body melts away another restraint he imposed on himself. Alhaitham realizes just how much he’s been starving himself. 

Thumb rubbing firm circles into your clit, the pleasure making your legs close together, trying to shut him out but the grip of his hand stops your attempt. 

“Tsk, stay still.” His strength pinning your legs apart, showing you just how ‘feeble’ he was. 

In retaliation, he pushes your legs further apart. Exposing more of yourself to him, it was embarrassing enough to almost make your lust-hazed mind care.

Thick fingers gathered up drops of slick leaking out from your dripping cunt as your lewd hole unable to contain its greed. Allowing him more access, feeding into his greed further.

Two fingers tracing the rim of your entrance before it slowly pushes through. Instantly, your gummy walls clamped down on his fingers, making him hiss through clenched teeth.

“If you’re grasping my fingers this much, how will you take something larger?” His breath ghosting over your cunt. 

Your toes curled in the air as a kiss was pressed against your throbbing clit, almost enough to let a gasp escape you. Biting back a drawn out moan as his tongue traced your leaking slit, starting with your sensitive numb then traveling up to lap at the essence escaping your stretched hole with the smooth muscle then back to flick at your clit.

You never realized just how pent up your body was until whines and moans just fell from your lips like water. Turning your head away, pressing your face into the mattress in hopes it’d catch those sinful sounds. 

“Tsk.” Alhaitham escalated the pace of his fingers. 

A sharp slap against your puffy clit, shooting white-hot pleasure up your core. With a gasp you pulled away from the sheets, unable to stop the moan which tumbled out. Hastily, you tried to muffle your voice again, only for a warning squeeze on your still pinned wrist stopping you.

You’ve enjoyed your silence, he’s been deprived of those sultry moans, so for tonight let him enjoy them to the fullest extent. 

Your back arched, hips bucking in the air. Your little pussy finally rewarded his hard work with a rush of slick soaked the sheets and his face further. Swiftly removing his fingers again with a disgraceful squelch, only for his tongue to dip into the cavern they left. He slurped and lapped up every drop of your nectar, quenching a thirst he never knew he had. 

Overstimulated clit trying to flinch away from each nerve-frying lick while your weeping walls beckoned his tongue to go deeper. The tightness in his pants was painful now, engorged tip rubbing against the fabric and soaking it in precum.

With his unyielding hold, his half-lidded eyes, and his unrelenting tongue lapping up all of your essence while bullying your poor nub, you were powerless. Unable to hide from his hungry gaze, nails digging into his unflinching hand, and chest heaving with the mounting pleasure in your core.

Scowl long replaced by a loose expression, the pleasure ripping through every fiber of your being. Shooting up from your curled toes to the eyes seeing only the back of your head, the edge growing closer and closer-

Alhaitham pulls away, your slick dripping down his chin glistening in the moonlight illuminating the room. Cruelly pulling back from the edge before you could taste true euphoria. No, he doesn’t think you deserve it yet. Flipping your body effortless on your back, wrists now pinned above your head.

His teal eyes drank the sight of your breast bouncing with each pant, puffy cunt clenching desperately, and the glimmering tearful eyes rivaling the stars themselves. A sight so sinful the devil is writhing in envy. 

“What the fuck?!” You thrashed in his hold again, mourning the lost of the orgasm your body was denied. 

“With this attitude, you should be grateful for what you got. I’m tired of waiting.” Alhaitham sneers next to your ear, chest pressed against yours before his warmth pulls away. 

Tugging his pants and boxers down his thighs with a hand still coated in your nectar, trailing kisses and red splotches in the valley of your breast as his precum and your slick mixed with each stroke of his shaft. The wet sounds even reached your ears.

Making the mistake of looking down, your eyes widened as they comprehended his length and girth. Your restless pussy twitching but your legs closing as to preserve the last of your ego. Something thick pressed against your dripping pussy making your hole quiver and legs freeze as his tip threatens breach your entrance.

“Trying to be coy now? When you were moaning like a whore mere minutes ago.” Smug teal eyes peering down at you. 

Another frown breaks onto your face at his pointed words. Your tongue is just as sharp, best to remind him of that fact.

“What a practiced line, you say the same things to her as well?” A mocking smile curling your lip as a scowl tugs down at his.

Too self-satisfied with your small victory to notice his large hand gripping onto your hips, aligning himself with you. With a sinful squelch, Alhaitham snaps his cock fully in. Your lips thrown open with a gasp as your back arches off the mattress.

“I. Never. Had. An. Affair. So, instead of spewing out anymore nonsense, why don’t you just moan instead?” Puncuating each word with thrust of his hips, feeling the vibration of each syllable in his chest pinned against yours. 

Jagged words ready at the tip of your tongue, yet you couldn’t form a single sentence. With a broken moan your back slowly descended back onto the sheets.

Tearing a hiss from his clenched teeth and a breathless moan from you, gummy walls contracting down tighter and tighter with each girthy inch pushed as his balls slap against the slick down your ass. Nothing could’ve prepared him for this. Alhaitham stays there, tip pressed against the deepest part of you, a furrow between his brows.

Alhaitham knows he should be gentle. He knows he should allow your walls to grow accustomed to his girth by slowly rolling his hips against yours. 

However, you just won’t stay still. Mewling and whining against his frame, nails clawing at his hand as your legs fluttered in the air. Each movement makes your pussy slurp around his stiff cock, lapping at the girth as if trying to pull him deeper than he already was. 

Tempting his hunger like a lunatic testing a starved beast, it’ll only be so long before the hunger bends the iron bars containing it and devours you. 

“AH!” A sharp slap of his hips rips a moan from your lips. 

Alhaitham pulls you off his cock until the tip threatens to slip out, then thrusts it all back in one fluid motion. Instinctively your teeth clamps down on your disobedient lips, desperately trying to bite back those lewd noises. The slurping of your greed welcoming him over and over was embarrassing enough. 

What a selfish move, trying to deprive him once more of your pretty moans. Provoking that ugly appetite within the pits of his stomach again. If you won’t behave, Alhaitham decides to fuck the stubborness out of you. 

Each thrust of his hips into yours rocking the sturdy bed, bullying your poor sensitive pussy still recovering from a ruined orgasm. Hands and hips held within bruising grips. The pitched gasps every time he railed into a certain spot didn’t escape his keen ears, his hips now angled to bully that spot with each thrust.

How helpless you were to the devastating rush of dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin. Unable to ground yourself on anything, your last wisps of sanity swept away by the waves of pleasure. 

A groan reverberates deep in Alhaitham’s chest, the sudden convulsions of your slick walls trying to milk him. It was almost impossible to move with the way your pussy just kept clamping down.

Unfortunately, his hips couldn’t seem to care, operating solely on selfish desire.

Fortunately, a fresh wave of arousal aided in his rhythm, relentless slams bouncing your body and bed. 

Strength long leaving your arms Alhaitham releases his hold on them in favor of supporting your limp hips, a breathy chuckle leaving his lips as lust-hazed eyes honed in on the frothy white ring forming on his shaft.

All your lips could do was babble out nothings as the headboard continued to beat the poor wall. Cunt thanking his cock with a contraction every time his tip knocks against your weakness. 

The sweet moans caressing his ears, the filthy slaps echoing through the room, and your walls pulling him deeper and deeper, Alhaitham was at his limit.

There was nothing separating you two, he had enough sense left to know that. Reeling in the reins of his greed, he pulls back, fingers digging deeper into your plush skin. Well, he tried to pull back, but your locked ankles behind his back foiled this plan. 

He felt so hefty in you, heavy balls slapping against your ass as his girth and length tore apart your sensibility. Something deep inside your cunt pleaded to be fed, to be filled, pushing your limp legs to lock ankles.

He feels a bit too far for your liking, blindly your hands groped at his body. Finally, reaching his face, cupping it roughly, you crash his lips down onto yours. Tasting yourself on his tongue still, but you couldn’t care less.

As your tongues tangled together, Alhaitham reached his limit. Pressing his thick tip as deep as it’d go, thick ropes of cum start to coat your walls with each twitch of his cock. His shaky moans swallowed up by your kiss.

The slurping of your pussy milking his still throbbing cock only prolonged his hunger. 

Dropping his head into the space between your neck and shoulder, he relishes in what he’s been depriving himself of. Feeling the faint shiver of your neck against his face.

Something was fogging up his mind, Autumn breeze doing nothing to quell the heat burning him.

–

“Ah! Mmmh! A-ah Ah!” 

The first rays of dawn breaking through the navy sky, the light so flushed by the scene it witnessed, it’s pink hue illuminated skin into the room heavy with lust and the slap of wet skin. 

“N-no more… too m-Ah!-much-ch.” Intoxicated brain sputtering out broken sentences. 

 It really was too much, you’ve cum too much to bother remembering, from the creamy drops dripping onto the soaked sheets, he’s also cummed too much.

Pussy overflowing and spasming with each thrust pushing more milky seed out.

Cock rubbing its red tip rawer with each quiver of your gooey walls. 

Six years of starvation will make any man forget gluttony is a sin.

“Too much? No More?” A husky pant between each word as Alhaitham continues with his punishing rhythm. 

“If that’s the case… then why is your pussy refusing to let me go?” His chest pressed against your back, caging you further as his breath tickles your ear. 

Unable to form a sentence anymore, your head pathetically shook side to side, stubbornly denying the obvious. Looks like he hasn’t fucked out of you yet, better change that. Large fingers digging further down on bruised hips, as the pistoning of his thrusts escalated.

Bed frame pushed to its limits.

Each smack of his hips against your limp body further drowning your pride out in a flood of dopamine. It’s mounting again, that familiar pressure building up in your core, making your toes curl in painful arches.

There’s a sudden flick at your swollen clit, walls flinching as his fingers encircles around the abused nub. 

“Who’s making you feel this way?” His husky voice too close to your ear.

Groundless pride preventing you from unsealing you lips, refusing to feed into his ego anymore than your wanton moans already did. 

“Who are you showing this shameful face to?” There’s an edge to his voice again, why must you be so stubborn?

Once more you refused to answer. Making Alhaitham’s jaw clench and his fingers roll your clit harsher, making your bruised hips thrash.  

“Who’s shape is engrained into this lewd body?” Voice dangerously low as he pushes his thick tip deeper against your beaten and painted walls, fingers never stopping their torment on your little nub. 

The edge was getting closer, you knew you’ll fall off it soon, you’ll dive head first into the euphoric sea of dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin and drown.

“Ah-ah Al-mmh!” You try to collect your breath.

Alhaitham quickens his fingers on your clit, feeling your greedy cunt clamp down on him again, walls suckling his twitching tip as his balls tighten. He’s close, but he needs you to say what he’s been waiting to hear all night. 

“Alh-ah a-a…” Your hips shaking violently in his hold now. 

Lust-glazed eyes staring straight into equally hazed teal eyes. Shaky hands slowly weaving themselves into his damp ash locks, gently pulling his ear closer to your lips, your hoarse voice just barely audible.

“A bastard.” 

Self-satisfied smirk plastered over your loose face as your tear blurred vision catches the stunned expression on his handsome face. 

The heat of his touch, the chemical stirring in your brain, and the pleasure frying your nerves made a delirious smile grace smudged lips. Your sight so hazed by lust you couldn’t see where your smile was even directed to.

Alhaitham wanted to etch the sight of your debauch face, smeared makeup and glazed eyes rolled back, into his memories forever.

Too caught off guard by your response to remind his hand to stop its movement before it was already too late. Eyes seeing the back of your head, back arching under his frame, you fell back into the all consuming waves of pleasure. 

A hard earned victory in this veiled battle of two egos. Exhaustion seeping into every fiber of your being. The pale pink of twilight dimming in your vision as the dark hands of sleep covers your eyes.

Somewhere in the middle of drifting off into a blank nothingness, you feel a hand tenderly guiding your head to rest on a soft pillow. 

Your eyelids twitch and brows furrow as the brightness of the room crept its way behind your shut eyes. Unable to retreat back into the dark embrace of sleep, you begrudgingly open your heavy lids.

Greeted by blurred shapes and fuzzy colors, you slowly blink your unfocused eyes. Gradually, the shapes and colors merge into distinguishable objects: a mug left on your bedside table with vapors rising from its rim. 

“It’s morning-after tea.” A husky voice followed by the distinct flip of paper tenses every muscle in your body. 

Alhaitham’s still here. You wish he wasn’t, you wish he’d realize last night was a mistake created from the clashing of egos, you wish the other side of your bed was empty.

So why did the tightness in your chest melt away with the mere sound of his voice?

You drag your sore body up from the sheets, shaky hands supporting the weight of numb legs and throbbing hips. Your sealed lips refusing to give him the satisfaction of any audible ques of your current state.

Sitting at the edge of your bed, back bare of anything but your hair draping over the marked skin facing him, you took the warm cup into your hands. 

A harmony of methodical sips and soft turns of pages fill the room, an open window washing away the haze of lust with an Autumn breeze. Just as the last bit of tea slides down your throat a gentle slap of a book snapping close brings an end to the heavy silence. 

“It’s unreliable,” Alhaitham announces. 

Peering over your shoulder with a quirked brow, freezing as you recognize the book clutched in his hands. Not waiting for a response, he continues. 

“Anyone with eyes can see how his biases exude through each sentence. He only studied 15 couples, not an appropriate sample size for a world filled with millions of pairs. His experiments have yet to be replicated, it seems his status is what got this nonsense published.” He sets the book down. 

“What are you trying to say?” Your eyes narrow in suspicion. 

“Your theory of phenylethylamine having a shelf life is based on nonsense.” His eyes connect with yours with that familiar indifference. 

A frown twists your face, so he still wants to argue huh. Of course, what else did you expect? You and him have long gone down the bitter circular path you’ve seen travled before.

Irritation rising in your chest, like Alhaitham had jabbed his finger into a wound you’ve yet to heal. 

“Oh, then your theory must be the intrinsic truth, huh?” Words leaving an acidic aftertaste on your tongue. 

“I never-”

“Look at you, so correct with no data to support your vague mathematical thesis.” You cut him off, anger replacing the soreness of your legs. 

Cup knocking against a bedside table as your hand casts it to the side, getting off the bed you march into your closet, pulling a random shirt on without regard of your movements wrinkling the fabric.

You just needed to leave this room, just being by his side is making your blood pressure rise. Your bed creaks as Alhaitham gets up as well, but your back was already through the door. 

Two sets of steps trekking through the halls, paces mismatched as one tries to take quicker steps to counter the broader strides of the other. Alhaitham keeps pace with your escalating march. 

“It’s a critique of his research, not you,” he voices. 

You didn’t want to hear it, sharply pivoting into your home office, but you weren’t fast enough to stop Alhaitham from following you in.

Now a husband wants to spend time with his wife, where was this before? 

“It’s an experiment conducted at the Akademiya, how is that not reliable enough? You think you can do better?” Your body whipping around with a glare directed at him, your hideous ego showing its face again. 

“Are you listening to yourself right now? Do you even believe in such a shallow analysis?” He mirrors your glare. 

“I’d rather believe in something with actual quantifiable numbers.” 

“Fine, you want quantifiable numbers? Care to calculate along with me? Or is your mind still recovering from last night?” Alhaitham folds his arms in front of his chest. 

“Go for it,” you say through gritted teeth, accepting his challenge, wanting to shush that snooty tone of his. 

“The Akasha bases its pairs off demographic, interest, and dispositions, all variables we can calculate,” he states. 

You straighten up your back, staring him in those teal eyes with your head held up high.

“Sumeru city is home to roughly 1 million people. Only 1/3 are around my age.” Alhaitham begins his trail.

“That brings that number down to about 333,333.” No delay in your response.

“Only 1 in 10 people have a personality I can tolerate, then suppose only 1 in 20 of those people can withstand mine.”

“ Rounding up that leaves about 1,667 candidates.” You tsk at his estimations, that number should be far greater than 20. 

 “Next comes shared interest, only 1 in 4 people have touched a physical book in the past year.” 

“417 left.”

Perhaps the gods didn’t think cheating you out of a childhood was enough, out of 417 people you had the misfortune of staring at his stony face. 

“Having to arrange 417 separate meetings at a small cafe would be much too burdensome for the Department of Human Relations. The scope needs to be narrowed further.” Alhaitham takes a step forward.

“Only 1 in 16 will have the patience to teach a grown man how to avoid wrinkles in his button downs.” Baritone voice losing its pointed edge. 

“26 left.”  You take a step back to preserve the space, hating how your skin craves the heat of his. 

“Only 1 in 8 of those people will allow me to borrow their books even when they know the edges of the paper will be creased when its returned.” He takes another step.

As you take another step backwards, the edge of your office desk prevents you from retreating further. The sensation of the cold wood distracting you momentarily from your calculations. 

“Then only 1 in 6 people will drape a blanket over a body that hogs an entire couch for a nap, placing a pillow under my head to ensure I don’t wake up with a sore neck.” Alhaitham doesn’t stop. 

Reaching an arm out, he firmly sets his palm on the expanse of your desk, caging you between the wood and the risk of your skin feeling the heat radiating off his body. 

“How many people are left now?” His breath ghosts the shell of your ear.

“ 0.543,” You blurted out.

A deep furrow appears between your brows, something must’ve gone wrong in your calculation, it’s impossible to have half a person. In the context of the Akasha, one person, a whole person, is matched to another.

Once more your mind ran the numbers over again, then again, and then thrice trying to recompute the figures. 

Each time the same number came back: half a person. 

“Are you mocking me with those groundless fractions? Where did you even get those statistics from?” Your pointed gaze still directed at him, did he intentionally lead you down this illogical trail? 

“Logic is neither an art nor a science but a dodge.” He peers down at you, teal gaze back to its neutral state. 

“Ha! Says the man who places logic and rationality on a pedestal, what caused such a change, Alhaitham?” You laugh dryly, not bothering to decipher the most brainless qoute you ever heard him use. 

No change in his expression as his shoulders rise with a deep inhale, exhaling slowly as he leans his face in, his finger digging his palm against lacquered wood. 

“Instead of wasting time citing subpar research, you should’ve just been honest. Then maybe I’ll give you what you want and sign those damn papers you hid away in this desk.” Voice low but steady as his gaze never leaves your frame. 

It was a strange phenomenon, the chirping of the crickets had halted as two bodies remained unmoving, not even a single grain of dust dare move. If it weren’t for the faint ticking of a hallway clock, it would’ve seemed like time had stopped.

How long has he known about the divorce papers neatly stacked away a desk drawer?

Alhaitham slowly backs his body away from yours, hand returning to his side, freeing you from the cage it created. Teal eyes carefully observes your downcast stare and stiff shoulders as guilt suffocated him.

All the emotions he bottled up, all the fervor he held back, all the desires he swallowed down. It all came tumbling out, spilling out into a murky, repulsive mess. 

“Wife.” If he had spoken any louder than a breathy whisper, that word would’ve crumbled on his tongue. 

“I love you.” Alhaitham finally allows the words which have been clinging on his tongue for years now to fall out of his mouth. 

Every inch of you froze at those three words, the weight of his stare heavy on your shoulders.

“Do you really feel nothing from those words?” Baritone voice beckoning an answer from you. 

You don’t dare lift your head, gaze downcasted and frozen. Because you know you’ll have to stare at your reflection in his eyes. 

Phenylethylamine, oxytocin, dopamine.

All these hormones and chemicals should’ve ran their course through your body. The haze should’ve faded and the abnormality of your chest should’ve corrected itself. It’s been three years at this point.

So, why is your chest aching?

The wood grain of the floor began to blur together as bitter tears compensated for the painful stinging of your irises. There it is, your brain finally short-circuits as the logic which once held up your sanity has crumbled away. 

Finally, you met his gaze, staring right at your reflection in teal irises. 

“It’s suffocating to be with you… it’s so lonely in this quiet house… it burns me like fire to touch you… yet… and y-yet see-”

“Seeing you leave will kill me, ” Alhaitham spoke the words just about to fall from the tip of your tongue.

The last piece of evidence that shattered the hypothesis he cultivated for all his life. If soulmates don’t exist, if the concept of an ‘other half’ doesn’t exist, then why is he feeling the same agony as you?

Looks like both theories were wrong in the end. Mathematics and chemistry unable to solve the enigma known as love. 

“I… I want to love… but I’m drowning… Alhaitham.” You were finally honest, you’ve been drowning all your life, thrashing hands searching for something to hold onto.

Would you be oh so kind enough to grab that pen just behind you and stab its steel nib into his chest? Alhaitham’s certain that it would hurt less than the words that left your trembling lips. 

A gentle hand cradled the back of your head as he pulls you closer. Letting those bitter tears strain his shirt and burn his skin.

No one, but the audience of a curious star and capricious gods peering down behind their blanket of clouds into this quiet house. 

Alhaitham once thought of himself as a good husband. Doing his fair share of chores and paying his half of the bills.

However, seeing your broken figure barely clinging onto his stiff frame, it’s clear that his overconfident assessment was a grave error. 

A  good husband would’ve been more attentive. A good husband would’ve noticed the tide slowly sweeping you away into the rough sea. A good, loving husband would’ve never let you sink alone in salty tears.

“Then I’ll drown with you.” His other hand grasping onto one of yours, slowly easing it away from his wrinkled shirt with soft caresses. 

Only monsters live in the deep cold sea, the only creatures able to survive the saltine waters and the pitch black nothingness. But as long as your fingers wove themselves into the gaps between his, he’ll be warm even as he sits on the sandy bottom of the murky ocean. 

Maybe that’s where the two of you belonged, two unromantic and prideful fools sitting at the bottom of the ocean.

Hand in hand so that the stupidity contained between the two of you won’t pollute anyone else. 

Gradually, those aching hiccups of yours faded into nothing more than muffled whimpers. Allowing silence to creep its way back into the gaps. The cause of this mess in the first place.

He has to remedy this, but what should he say? All those encyclopedias and journals he had thumbed through were all for naught. For Alhaitham’s mind couldn’t recall one fact from those pages.

One hand patting a slow rhythm into your back, trying to buy the man some time.

When logic and reasoning fail to explain the unexplained, folklore takes its place.

“According to legends, people used to have two pairs of hands, two pairs of feet, and two faces pointed in opposite directions.” He began.

“Back then, humans were powerful, powerful enough to threaten the gods who created them. So the gods split them in two. Cursing humans to a cruel search, desperate to be whole again.” His other hand still toying with your fingers.

You peer up at him, head still resting against his chest, feeling the soft beating of his heart. Blinking away the tears, listening to his telling of a myth. 

“That’s the origin of a soulmate.” He finishes.

A soft giggle leaves your lips, a mixture of confusion and disbelief from Alhaitham quoting a fairytale. 

“And you believe in that?” Amused gaze connecting with brilliant beryl eyes. 

“Yes…because I found you.” Alhaitham tenderly brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss against your fingers as a glint catches the sunlight. 

With a foreign sensation hugging a finger, your brows furrow. Holding your hand out toward the light again. Blinking eyes finally identify the gem which coyly appeared on your ring finger.

So that’s what he was doing, your tear stained cheeks shifting up as a smile stretches your once stiff lips.

Burying your head in the chest of the most unromantically romantic idiot you’ve ever known, a radiant laugh bubbling in your chest as it resonates off quiet walls. 

But as he is, so are you: An unromantically romantic soulmate in love. 

~Fin

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 

-; I'LL TAKE CARE OF YOU. / IT'S ROTTEN WORK.

(NOT TO ME, NOT IF IT'S YOU) ; in which wriothesley lets you tend to his wounds after the dramatic affair with the beret society.

CW: not beta-read. cerberus chapter spoilers! gn!reader, slight hurt/comfort, fluff, mentions of blood, injury, and violence. mention of scars (+ my headcanons of how wrio got some of them), & finally, lovesick loser wrio!

"i'm telling you, sunshine, i can handle it myself."

at his words, your hands still, pristine rolls of gauze and bandages already soaking in red blood. a frown breaks across your countenance as you glare up at wriothesley, eyebrows furrowed. there will be no stopping this, you know; there will be days where your beloved duke returns to your arms with a new wound that you're sure will scar. days he brandishes blooming bruises on his knuckles, and you'll eventually press butterfly kisses to them. perhaps, he will crawl into your loving embrace, his warm home, with blood dripping from his fingertips. (grimly, you wonder how much of it will be his own. you know you'll thank the archons when it's not all his.)

with a sigh and a dab of the alcohol-soaked cotton against his exposed side, you mutter: "you always say that. look where that's got you now."

"it's just a scratch."

"wri, it's a bullet wound. you're lucky it only just grazed you."

"so... what i'm hearing is that it really is just a scratch."

now that earns him another glare (which he sheepishly smiles at).

"look, as stupid as it may sound," he sighs, clear blue eyes finding your own, "i didn't think dougier would have a gun with him." the duke's expression contorts ever so slightly, a weak hiss slipping from his gritted teeth, as you rub a cooling ointment against his angry, red wound. "didn't think he'd have that many gardemeks either."

(another comment, much quieter: "and i thought it'd be cool, really.")

and with that, you both fall into relative silence. the classical music playing from the office gramaphone, your steady breathing, and the occasional pained hiss from wriothesley (followed by your whispered string of apologies) permeate the space between. in the quiet, your mind eventually runs rampant with thoughts of your love getting injured. wriothesley may have proven to you time and time again that he would always return to your side, but he wasn't invincible. your gaze wanders, frowning further when you soak in the sight of the scars that mar his chest. they do nothing to comfort you.

"hey," wriothesley starts, when he notices your stare on the claw marks etched into the skin of his neck. they stretch downwards, the cruel tally marks stopping right above where his heart would be. you try not to think about how they could've easily torn out his throat. "i know you'll still worry about me, but i've been through much worse." he raises his own hand to trace the scars, playing with the black wraps around his neck; "and, as you can see... i fought and won."

( you know he has. he's told you all about them, once. on a sleepless night, where you two lay in bed and traced designs on each other's skin. his calloused fingers against your softer flesh, your touch along the lines of his many scars. some were from fierce sea creatures, he tells you, with a teasing lilt in his voice that makes you giggle. others from his time serving his sentence, fighting for his life in the ring. when you trace one along the back of his arm, smaller than the rest, his voice gets a little softer — he got it on the day he spilt his first blood. you had kissed along all his scars that night, and he had returned the favour with a shower of kisses along your cheeks.)

"promise me you'll be more careful." you say, as you unroll a new roll of gauze and begin wrapping it around his torso. it's a beat, and then two, and when he doesn't respond you turn your gaze back to him.

wriothesley frowns, now. he could do cheeky proclamations of victory, tell you he'll always crawl back to your side alive... but he can't promise you that. not with your current lives in meropide. "you know i can't—"

"wriothesley." the syllables roll off your tongue and he quickly seals his mouth shut—it's been a good, long while since his full name has graced your lips. (he much preferred wrio, or sweetie, or darling; something from you that made him kinder. softer.) "please?"

the silence comes back for a heartbeat. you think you feel tears pooling at the corner of your eyes—

"alright, alright. i'll try." he says, quickly relenting to your teary-eyed gaze. and when that's not good enough for you, highlighted by the pout of your lips and the slightly-aggressive tightening of his bandage wrappings, he says: "fine. i promise to be more careful. as best as i can."

a smile graces your lips. (wriothesley thinks he's seen the sun. you, his darling star, whose mere presence lights up his gloomy underworld.)

"sigewinne and i will keep you to it then."

he can't help the way he leans into your warmth as you press a quick, gentle peck to his temple nor can he help how he almost whines when you step away from him. his gaze is on you even as you pack up the first aid kit and make your way to the stairs (how cruel you are, leaving your lover while he toils in pain!) wriothesley stands from where he leans against his table, just as you reach the bottom of the stairs. he stands up a little straighter, smiles as you shout out:

"oh, and i heard from the traveller! your stunt did sound pretty cool."

a/n: happy birthday wriothesley! here's a very short, indulgent, not beta-read thing to celebrate his birthday and his c1 coming home during his banner! sorry if he's a little ooc or this is just. a really oddly worded / structured fic — this was very much so written in a haze after seeing his story quest cutscene... he's so dreamy. . ..