xai

He whispered an incantation, and glowing text rose from the pages of the book before him. The symbols spiraled through the air, circling him in tightening rings. Had he not become the head of his family, he would have devoted himself entirely to the arcane arts, carving out a life of magical discovery.

Otherworldly powers came naturally to him. In truth, he had little regard for those who lacked such gifts, viewed them as lesser beings whose lives held far less significance. At the moment, however, he was attempting alchemy. He had started with a simple goal: transform an apple into a piece of silver. Theoretically, it was possible. Practically, he had no idea how to achieve it.

Failure irritated him more than he cared to admit.

“Stupid fucking shit.”

The apple collapsed inward like a shriveled husk. Admittedly, it was an impressive result in its own way, but it was far from what he had intended. With a frustrated growl, he hurled the book and slumped into his chair beside the window.

After a moment, he rose and crossed the study to retrieve it. It had only been a month since his parents' deaths, and the grief had not lessened. If anything, the burden felt heavier. He was little more than a boy, yet an entire house depended upon him. Had there been anyone else capable of taking his place, he might have abandoned the responsibility altogether. Unfortunately, there wasn't. As Viktor gazed out the study window, something caught his eye. A streak of light descended from the night sky.

At first glance, it looked like a falling star. Its radiance was nearly blinding, it drifted downward with an almost graceful slowness rather than hurtling toward the earth.

The glowing object passed over the estate walls and settled somewhere beyond the courtyard below. For a moment, the entire manor was bathed in silver light. Viktor wondered if anyone else had seen it if the strange glow had stirred the household from their sleep.

Curiosity seized him. Without another thought, he bolted from the study to investigate. By the time he reached the grounds, however, he realized the light had landed much farther away than he'd first assumed. It illuminated in the distance, drawing him toward the lake nestled near the edge of the forest.

Logic told him to turn back. To fetch guards. To let someone else investigate whatever had fallen from the heavens before it led to an untimely death. As he approached the lake, the source of the light finally revealed itself. A girl, suspended above the water's surface as though gravity had forgotten her existence. Silver light surrounded her, illuminating the darkness around the lake.

She looked peaceful. Beautiful, even. Viktor wondered if she was a siren or perhaps some kind of water spirit. There was something undeniably ethereal about her.

Then, without warning, the light vanished and the girl suddenly dropped. She hit the water with a splash that was anything but graceful. It instantly woke her up, she started flailing and reaching out to grab anything to keep her afloat. Viktor hesitated. This could be a trap. Some strange lure meant to draw him into the lake. Every story he'd ever heard about enchanted creatures ended poorly for the fool who ignored his instincts.

He started to step back. Then guilt crept in. The girl clearly hadn't noticed him standing among the trees. She looked terrified. Before her eyes started to close and she disappeared under the water.

"Well, fuck it," he muttered. Shrugging off his jacket, Viktor dove into the water.

His swimming skills left much to be desired, but he managed to reach her. By the time he did, she was barely conscious, her struggles growing weaker with each passing second. Now, he'd jumped in to save her, but that didn't stop him from cursing as he tried to keep both their heads above water. She was dead weight. Swimming back to shore proved far less enjoyable than swimming out. By the time he dragged her onto the bank, his muscles burned and his clothes were completely soaked. Viktor collapsed onto the grass for a moment, catching his breath before glancing down at the unconscious girl.

"How feeble." The thought crossed Viktor's mind as he looked down at the unconscious girl sprawled among the wet grass. She'd barely survived whatever ordeal had left her there.

Of course she would've needed saving. He considered carrying her back himself. Then he dismissed the idea. There were servants for such things. He did not burden himself with every lost creature that wandered onto his lands.

He rose from his crouch. He saw an attendant running his way.

"Fetch her," he coughed out. "See that she lives."

Viktor turned and walked toward the manor. He was very exasperated but figured that she would be ok. He had a feeling everything would be fine.

You woke with a sharp inhale. The mattress beneath you felt so uncomfortable all of a sudden. Why wasn't your safe fluffy bed all fluffy again? when your eyes finally focused, you realized it wasn't a bed at all. You were lying on an enormous velvet couch.

The room around you looked like something torn from a picture from any of the rpgs you have played. Tall bookshelves lined the walls. Dark wood furniture. A crackling fireplace. Sunlight streamed through towering windows.

"I see you're finally awake." You nearly jumped. A boy sat behind an ornate desk across the room. Or less a man than anything. A guy that looks like he's wearing his mommy's clothes in a lord of the rings cosplay contest.

He hadn't moved. Had he been watching you this whole time? "Who are you?" you demanded, forcing yourself upright. "Where am I?"

The moment you stood, dizziness slammed into you. You staggered. The man barely reacted. "You speak as though I've abducted you." His tone was calm. Amused, even. He removed a pair of glasses and pushed them into his hair. "You collapsed on my land. I simply ensured you didn't die."

His land? You looked around again. Nothing made sense. Just moments ago you'd been falling asleep in your own bed. Now you are here. Apparently irritated by your confusion, the man finally sighed.

"Viktor Carlisle." The introduction sounded less like a greeting and more like a statement of fact. As though his name alone should answer every question. You reluctantly told him yours.

Viktor dipped a quill into ink and began writing something across a stack of papers. What kind of elaborate roleplay convention had you stumbled into?

"You required shelter," Viktor said without looking up. "A lamb abandoned in a storm seldom survives alone."

You blinked. "...Excuse me?"

Clearly this man is way too in character, maybe you've been abducted because this guy is clearly delusional enough. Maybe you need to be gentle so he doesn’t go all psycho on you. if he genuinely believed himself the shepherd. Maybe you should not test your luck.

He returned to writing. "You're injured. Disoriented. Weak." His quill scratched against the parchment. "The description seemed appropriate."

A laugh escaped you. Mostly from disbelief. "Okay, I don't understand whatever freaky roleplay thing you've got going on, but I don't want any part of it."

Ok maybe you should've been more gentle but this guy was pissing you off. You marched toward the desk.

Viktor finally set the quill down. The room seemed smaller the moment his attention settled fully on you. "For someone so fragile," he said quietly, "you possess an extraordinary confidence in your understanding of things."

Your jaw tightened. “And for some kind of savior, you're a complete asshole.”

“Savior?” he repeated, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. A low chuckle escaped him, humorless and dry. His gaze never left yours. “Sure.”

“You look barely older than me. Take that down a notch,” you shot back with a huff.

His expression flattened. “I know absolutely nothing about you except that I just saved your life. So excuse me, girl, if I'm not interested in playing nice while you're acting like this. Get a grip.”

He pushed himself to his feet in one fluid motion and leaned down slightly, enough that his shadow fell over you.

Your pulse spiked.

“I'm sorry, but I'm scared!” The words burst out before you could stop them. “I have no idea who the hell you are, you've been a complete dick since I woke up, and I only woke up a second ago!”

Looking at you reminded him of himself a month ago lost, frightened, and angry at a world that had suddenly become unfamiliar. The memory struck harder than he expected. The empty seats at the dinner table. The silence in the halls that had once echoed with his parents' voices. The realization that no one was coming to tell him what to do next.

He hated thinking about it but he understood the look in your eyes. The same things that had nearly swallowed him whole.

He exhaled slowly. “You're right.” The apology sounded awkward, as if the words rarely left his mouth. “I apologize.”

He stepped around the chair toward you. , you backed away. The reaction made him stop. A flicker of amusement crossed his face. All bite and no bark, apparently. Keeping a respectful distance, he crossed his arms. “You're in the Kingdom of Phaethon,” he explained. “Specifically, the western province of Solcrest and currently, you're in my house.”

The Kingdom of Phaethon? Your mind raced. "No..." The whisper slipped from your lips before you realized you'd spoken. “What prank is this?”

His brow furrowed. “Prank?”

“This isn't funny.” You laughed weakly, but there was no humor in it. “This can't be real.”

He studied you carefully. “You keep saying strange things.”

“Because this is strange!” Your voice cracked. “This place doesn't exist.”

The silence that followed felt heavy. Outside the window, distant bells rang somewhere in the town below.

The walls were built from pale stone rather than drywall. Dark wooden beams crossed the ceiling overhead. Sunlight streamed through a narrow glass window, illuminating shelves filled with books whose titles were written in symbols you somehow recognized despite never seeing them before.

The young man seemed to notice your growing panic. “Come with me.”

Before you could protest, he offered his hand. You hesitated. Then reluctantly took it. His hand was warm. He guided you out of the room. The hallway beyond looked like something pulled straight from a fantasy illustration. Polished oak floors stretched beneath your feet. Brass lanterns hung from the walls despite the daylight. In the distance, beyond the estate grounds, you could see a town nestled against the hillside.

It looked exactly like the illustrations from the books and comics youve read.

Nothing about it felt artificial.You looked down and finally noticed your clothes.Your heart nearly stopped. Gone were your pajamas.

Instead, a floor length white dress draped around your body. Soft fabric pooled around your feet, embroidered with silver thread that shimmered when it caught the light. Your stomach twisted violently. “I don't feel too good.”

The world tilted. You stumbled. Instinctively, you grabbed onto his arm and leaned some of your weight against him. He sighed. “You've barely been conscious for thirty minutes.” He steadied you before you could fall. “Honestly, I should've expected this.”

Without another word, he turned and led you down a different corridor. The manor was far larger than you'd first realized. Perched atop a ridge overlooking the countryside surrounding Solcrest, it was an old noble estate that had clearly seen better days. Even beneath the neglect, its beauty remained undeniable.

He guided you into another room. "You need rest," he said. You sank heavily onto the mattress. The room still swayed around you. "Please relax," he added quietly.

The next few days passed in a blur. Oddly enough, he rarely came to see you. Instead, the servants tended to your needs. Meals arrived on schedule, someone checked on you every few hours, and your recovery steadily improved. By the fourth day, the dizziness had mostly faded, and curiosity finally outweighed caution.

That was how you found yourself standing outside the office where you'd first awakened. There wasn't much else to do. The wardrobe they'd provided consisted almost entirely of long dresses. Every morning felt like being dressed for a royal portrait. If you ignored the whole "being in strangers manic break" situation, it was almost pleasant.

You knocked lightly before easing the door open.

At this point, you were entirely convinced that you were being Truman Showed on a scale that bordered on insanity. Either way, fighting it wasn't getting you anywhere. You figured playing along might eventually get you some answers.

"Hello?" you called. Peering inside, you found the boy slumped over his desk, fast asleep. You paused. He looked considerably nicer when he wasn't awake. his usual expression had softened, leaving him looking far younger than he acted. You'd hoped to finally ask questions but this clearly wasn't the moment.

Awkwardly, you glanced around the room until you spotted a folded blanket draped over a nearby chair. Picking it up, you crossed the office and carefully laid it over his shoulders. He didn't stir. You immediately retreated to the opposite side of the desk not wanting to bother him.

"Well, this is unfortunate timing," you muttered, resting a hand against the polished wood.

Your gaze wandered across the room. You liked The Seldom Season. It had been one of your favorite fantasy romance series growing up. What you'd loved most wasn't romance but the world itself. Now, standing inside a fantasy world that felt just as expansive and real, the experience was considerably less enchanting.

You hadn't been nearly obsessed enough with the series to remember every detail. Sure, you'd read it, You weren't even entirely certain where you were in the timeline or how this estate fit into the broader story. You might as well play along and see where it led.

The room settled into a comfortable silence. The guy had returned to organizing the cluttered desk he'd apparently been sleeping on, while you sat awkwardly nearby, trying not to stare at the expensive furniture.

"So what are you?" His gravelly voice cut through the silence so suddenly that you nearly jumped.

"What do you mean?" you asked, turning toward him.

One of his eyebrows lifted. "Answering a question with a question sounds a lot like deflecting." His voice still carried the rough edge of someone recently dragged from sleep.

You frowned. "Well, I don't understand the question."

"You fell from what looked like a star." He gestured vaguely toward the window. "Other than that, you've been surprisingly normal. But that's a rather strange thing to overlook."

"Fine. Um..." You rubbed the back of your neck. "I'm normal? Honestly, I have no idea what answer you're expecting."

His stare lingered. There was a look on his face that suggested he thought you were either an idiot or a liar. Thankfully, he seemed to decide that voicing that opinion wasn't worth the effort.

"I like your home," you blurted. The words escaped before you could stop them. His expression didn't change, but at least it distracted him from looking at you like a suspect in an investigation. "I really appreciate you taking care of me."

"It's not much." He began clearing books and loose papers from the desk. You deadpanned. Rich people really did have a warped understanding of what counted as "not much." The room alone was larger than the entire apartment your family lived in.

"I'm very curious about you," he admitted.

That made two of you. Truthfully, one of the things you'd secretly hoped for ever since waking up here was that if this really was a weird situation, you'd get something cool out of it.

It was cliché. truly but magic would be cool. But who got transported into another world and didn't hope for that? Maybe he was wondering the same thing.

"I would be too," you admitted. Despite his skepticism, he'd been surprisingly hospitable. Without another word, he crossed the room and retrieved a crystal orb from a nearby shelf.

When he placed it in your hands, you nearly dropped it. It was far heavier than it looked.

"Focus on it, if you would."

You glanced down at the orb. Then back up at him. It honestly resembled a decorative paperweight. Just a stupid glass ball. Such a shame.

The nobleman's shoulders sank ever so slightly. "How disappointing."

You blinked. "Well, that's nice to hear."

His eyes flickered toward you. For a moment, you thought he might actually laugh. Instead, he simply held out a hand. "Don't pay it any mind. I was merely satisfying a curiosity."

You returned the orb. Curiosity wasn't exactly the word you'd use for whatever test that had been.

He took the crystal back and settled into his chair. Then he focused on it. Immediately, pale green mist began swirling inside the orb. The vapor twisted like smoke trapped beneath glass, gathering into luminous spirals that cast faint green reflections across his fingers.

The nobleman released a small breath and smiled to himself, apparently satisfied. Then the light faded. The crystal became ordinary once more. He placed it back on the desk as casually as someone setting down a teacup.

"Nice party trick," you muttered.

Being thrown into a world filled with power while possessing none of your own had been a devastating blow to your ego. Especially when all you had ever dreamed of was becoming part of the magical wonders this world had to offer.

A breeze brushed against your face, tickling your nose as you tried to make sense of your thoughts.

"Are you nervous?" A voice emerged from behind you.

Your role in this world was that of the princess's lady's maid. It wasn't particularly glamorous, but it came with one major advantage: you weren't part of the main cast. From your perspective, there was far too much emotional turmoil among them. Each one nagging to be the one that ends up with her. Gladly you didn't have to deal with that. 

The princess's many suitors were all kind people, but following their stories felt strange. In the novel, it was entertaining enough. Living through it, however, felt like aging decades overnight and finding yourself at fifty while watching a group of teenagers stumble through first love.

Today, the princess's knight had been assigned to accompany you. It was odd how much the princess fussed over you, but it afforded you a comfortable life, so you couldn't complain too much. On your rare days off, you liked wandering through the market. You didn't leave the castle often, but whenever you did, it was nice to mingle with ordinary people.

"Ive been around town before," you laughed. "I haven't a clue what you're talking about."

You often wondered whether the knight's constant concern was the result of the princess's orders or simply his nature.

"Sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he continued walking beside you. "What are we looking for today?"

"I'm already spoiled enough back at the palace, but I think it'd be cool to check out some of the trinkets around here."  Admittedly, you had once tried to suppress your old slang. However, after years of living through a second growing up and life you suppose, you had stopped caring. It felt like one of the few pieces of your old life you still possessed.

"Now I'm the one getting nervous," the knight huffed. "For your sanity, because I don't think you're nearly as spoiled as you claim."

"Yeah, right." If the knight wasn't constantly following you around like an exceptionally well trained guard dog, his argument might have been easier to believe. Your wardrobe alone was proof enough.

Every dress you owned was made from luxurious silk in varying shades of baby blue and pink. They were undeniably beautiful, but they were also wildly impractical. Not that it mattered you weren't allowed to wear anything else.

The arrangement had earned more than a little resentment from the other servants. Many of them thought it was ridiculous, and honestly, you couldn't entirely blame them. Still, it wasn't something you had any control over. The princess treated you less like a maid and more like a doll she had stubbornly refused to outgrow.

The walk into town was short.

The palace sat at the heart of the kingdom, elevated just enough to loom over the city below. White stone walls gleamed beneath the afternoon sun, visible from nearly every street like the kingdom's own personal star.

The knight walking beside you had become one of your closest friends over the years.

At least, you assumed that was how he saw you.

Whenever the two of you found yourselves in the servants' quarters, he somehow always ended up sitting in front of you while you fixed whatever part of his appearance he'd neglected. Straightening his collar. Brushing dust from his uniform. Retiring his hair after training.

He always had an excuse. His favorite was particularly absurd. "We both work directly under the princess, so it only makes sense that I come to you."

You still had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

The logic was complete nonsense, but eventually you'd give up trying to understand it. You simply assumed he felt comfortable around you.

The thought made you smile. You remembered your first meeting surprisingly well. Back then, both you and Princess Veria had only been sixteen. The king had summoned her to the Great Hall, and after declaring that she absolutely could not attend alone, she'd dragged you along despite repeated objections from the royal staff.

Standing before the thrones of the King and Queen was a boy.

"This is the one?" Princess Veria asked, sounding genuinely alarmed.

The king sighed. You remembered desperately wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole. One thing that set Veria apart from most noble daughters was that she possessed absolutely no sense of restraint. If she disagreed with something, everyone within hearing distance would know.

"Veria," the king said patiently, "I wanted to introduce you to your personal guard."

The princess looked toward the boy.

At the time, his hair had reminded you of ash after a fire of soft silver strands falling across his forehead. His skin was pale from years spent training indoors rather than laboring beneath the sun, and despite the sword at his side, he looked strangely nervous standing before the royal family.

More than anything, he looked out of place.

"Why?" she asked.

You nearly died. How could she possibly speak to her father like that? The king, however, didn't seem remotely surprised.

"Don't be difficult," the queen said, amusement dancing through her voice. "You'll be taking on more responsibilities soon. If you're expected to lead nobles one day, you'll need someone capable of protecting you."

Veria folded her arms and looked the knight over.

She had never been particularly fond of having men around her. Most of the young noble sons she'd met were insufferable, arrogant, or both. Still, this one seemed harmless enough. Not especially charming, not particularly impressive, but at least he looked like he possessed a functioning brain.

Then he glanced away from her. Toward you. The moment Veria noticed the subtle softening in his expression, it was over.

The princess whipped around to face the throne. "I don't want him."

Before anyone could react, she marched across the hall, wrapped both arms around you, and pulled you firmly against her side.

Then she glared at the knight. It was not a good day for your cortisol levels.

"Veria..." the king warned.

"No."

"Veria."

"No."

Her grip tightened. The glare she directed at the poor boy could have frozen an ocean.

The knight looked completely bewildered. You weren't doing much better.

"Rotten luck, daughter," the king said with a weary sigh. "The assignment has already been approved."

It had been one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. Even now, five years later, you still had no idea why she'd reacted so strongly. You'd spent weeks apologizing to the knight on her behalf, followed immediately by several lectures directed at Veria herself about respecting her parents and new people around her.

Neither effort had accomplished much. Thankfully, time had softened everything.Still, whenever you thought back to that first meeting, a grimace immediately came to mind. The poor man never stood a chance. 

By the time you reached the market district, however, the memory had faded beneath a far more important distraction.

Your attention darted from stall to stall, immediately captivated by the countless displays lining the streets. You couldn't use magic yourself, but that hardly stopped you from appreciating it. To your left, a weaponsmith had several enchanted swords displayed on a rack outside his shop. Traces of elemental magic shimmered across their blades a glow dancing along one edge, frost clinging to another.

Your eyes practically sparkled. to you that was so fucking cool.

“You know I’m here to protect you. If you’re looking to be on your own, then you should remember that I’ll always be by your side.” The knight's voice carried a hint of disappointment as he watched you drift farther into the weapon shop.

“Wyll, you and I both know that’s not true,” you replied with a small laugh. “Besides, I just think it’s an amazing sight.”

You stepped closer to the display of enchanted swords. One of the fire infused blades seemed to radiate a gentle warmth, its crimson runes glowing faintly beneath the polished steel. Captivated, you immediately began questioning the salesperson about the history of each weapon, the forging process, and the magic woven into their construction.

Beside you, Wyll gave you a quiet once over. Though he served the crown and had been assigned to your side just to watch over you by the princess, he had been hopelessly smitten from the very first day he met you.

He never quite understood your fascination with magic. Coming from a ducal family, he had been surrounded by it his entire life. Enchanted artifacts, powerful mages, elemental weaponry were all ordinary to him. Yet every spell and magical trinket seemed to fill you with wonder.

Perhaps, he thought, it was a testament to your innocence. How cute.

In the original novel, Wyll had been nothing more than the princess's loyal friend. Readers had spent years questioning why he was never considered a love interest. He was gentlemanly, dependable, and kind to a fault. Even if the princess herself never regarded him as particularly handsome, he was undeniably one of the author's most striking character designs.

Wyll himself never received much attention in the story. Most of his scenes involved accompanying the princess or standing guard beside her. 

The two of you often spent your time mocking the ridiculous suitors who came seeking her hand whenever formal introductions were arranged.

Still, he couldn't deny that he disliked how excited you became whenever those suitors appeared. To him, it looked like you were simply fawning over handsome men. Perhaps there was a touch of jealousy involved. Not that he would ever admit it.

True, he was the son of a duke, but with an older brother set to inherit everything, his own prospects were considerably less impressive.

Little did he know, your excitement had nothing to do with the men themselves. You were excited about the routes. Every new suitor meant another potential storyline for Veria.

Unfortunately, you had never finished the novel series in your previous life, leaving you completely unaware of who she ultimately ended up with. While you liked to think you had matured beyond your former fangirl tendencies, that part of you never truly disappeared.

“What beautiful craftsmanship,” you said after finishing your conversation with the salesperson. “The weapon work here is really admirable.”

You turned back toward Wyll.

Want to know what else is beautiful? The thought appeared uninvited. He shoved it away immediately.

“They are impressive,” he said instead. “Though I’ve only worked with ice and quantum swords myself.”

He lifted an arm casually.

“Quantum?” Your eyes widened. “That’s surprising.”

You instinctively grabbed his arm.

A grin tugged at his lips. “Surprising? You think I can’t handle it?”

“I’m sure you can. I’m just shocked because don’t knights usually master the elemental disciplines before moving on to quantum?”

“Well,” he said, trying and failing to sound modest, “those with exceptional talent tend to advance a little faster.”

“Oh, how humble of you.”

You brushed a strand of hair from your face as you rolled your eyes.

“I’m allowed to be proud of my accomplishments.”

Eventually, the two of you moved into the bookstore next door. The moment you stepped inside, you immediately wandered away from Wyll, drawn toward rows upon rows of books stacked from floor to ceiling. The familiar scent of old parchment and ink wrapped around you like a comforting blanket.

There was little point in studying magic. Without any mana of your own and no way to control it, such books would only serve as a reminder of what you lacked. Instead, you gravitated toward history, folklore, and fiction. If this was truly your life now, then you needed an escape somewhere. As your fingers skimmed over the spine of a weathered novel, a familiar voice suddenly cut through the atmosphere.

"I cannot believe my eyes." You froze. That voice. Turning around, your eyes widened. Standing several feet away was a young man with dark hair and an amused smile spread across his face.

"Viktor!" The book nearly slipped from your hands.

Without a second thought, you rushed toward him. The viscount barely had time to brace himself before you collided with him in a hug. A laugh escaped him as he caught you effortlessly.

"There she is."

You grinned so hard your cheeks hurt. Of all the people to run into today, Viktor was the last person you expected. He wasn't even supposed to be here. he was little more than a background character mentioned in passing. Someone that was in flashback that helped Veria with some tutoring when they were simply small children. 

Yet to you, he meant much more than that. When you had first arrived in this world terrified, confused, and nearly drowned in a river. Viktor had been the one to find you. The one to pull you from the water. The one who made sure you survived those first frightening days. You'd never forgotten it.

He spun you once before setting you back on your feet. "I've missed you, man," you blurted out. "Seriously. Things have been so different without you around."

Your hands rested on his forearms as you looked up at him. The years had changed him. He'd grown taller. Not to drool but also looked very good. 

"Well, I would hope so," Viktor chuckled. "It's been what? Six years?"

"Something like that."

"Hm." His gaze softened looking at the dress you had been draped in. "Looks like my little sheep has been doing well for herself."

You rolled your eyes immediately. "Oh no. Not that nickname."

"Oh yes. Were you not a lost lamb in need of shelter." he gloats

"You sound crazy."

"And?" You groaned while he laughed.

"Yes, she has done good for herself."

The sudden voice made both of you turn. Wyll had appeared beside you. Several books were stacked neatly in his arms, the ones he'd gathered while looking around the store. Books he thought you might enjoy. Unfortunately, the pleasant feeling he'd had while picking them out had vanished the second he walked back and found another man holding you.

A nobleman, no less. His expression remained polite.

"Ah," Viktor said, eyes lighting with amusement. "And you've got yourself a knight. I always knew you were special."

"Why is everyone boosting my ego today?"

Viktor laughed; he always enjoyed your less than nuanced way of speaking.

"No, seriously," you continued. "After you sent me to the castle all those years ago, I ended up meeting Wyll while working under the princess."

Wyll gave Viktor a polite nod. The viscount returned it. Neither man looked particularly impressed by the other. You, however, remained blissfully unaware. Wyll stepped forward and, with almost suspiciously casual movements, inserted himself between you and Viktor. The books shifted into one arm as he did so.

You blinked. Viktor's smile widened. ‘Oh,’ he thought. "This is entertaining."

"On that topic," Wyll said smoothly, "don't you think the princess may want us back soon? We wouldn't want to keep her waiting."

The words were perfectly reasonable. 

You narrowed your eyes. "I don't think we've been gone that long."

Wyll gestured toward the bookstore windows. The sun had shifted noticeably lower. "You know how she is."

He had a point. The princess had a talent for becoming drastic whenever she couldn't find you for too long. She gets quite fussy when it's your day off because she always wanted to be near you.

"I suppose." A little disappointment slipped into your voice.

You'd only just found Viktor again.

 "I like this one." the viscount said.

You blinked. "What?"

"The knight." he continued

Wyll frowned.

"Very loyal."

The frown deepened.

"Nice pet."

For a brief moment, you genuinely wondered if a murder might occur inside the bookstore. To his credit, Wyll's expression barely changed. To his discredit, the grip tightening around his books suggested he was imagining several ways to dispose of a viscount's body. The audacity of this pompous asshole. He honestly wanted to sock the guy for calling him a pet but he couldn’t deny that he is loyal to you through and through. If you asked him to walk into a burning building, he'd probably ask how many floors.

"Ignore him," you sighed.

"I intend to."

Viktor laughed loudly.

"I'd still like to see you again," he said, directing his attention back to you. "Could I call on you sometime?"

Your face immediately brightened. "Of course! You know I'd see you in a heartbeat."

The answer came so quickly that Wyll visibly frowned. You failed to notice. Again.

"I'll have to check with the princess first, though," you added. "I'm surprisingly busy these days."

"As I would expect." Viktor reached for your hand. "I would never dream of intruding." he lifted your hand and pressed a light kiss against your knuckles.

Wyll looked seconds away from developing a migraine.

You simply smiled. "It was good seeing you again, Viktor."

"And you as well, little sheep."

"There it is again." you laughed out at the stupid name.

"There it is." With a final laugh, the viscount stepped away and headed toward the exit. The bell above the bookstore door chimed softly as he disappeared outside.

For a moment, you watched him go. When you first met him you had no idea what and where you were, in fact he had just been seventeen when finding a girl in all white struggling to get out of a lake. He felt normal before finding out you were in some nonsensical situation.

"Ready to go?" You turned toward Wyll. His expression had settled back into its usual calm neutrality. 

"What pissed in your food?" Without waiting for an answer, you relieved him of several books and began inspecting the titles.

"I don't think you should have strange men calling on you."

"First of all, he's not strange. I feel like that interaction made that pretty obvious."

You flipped through one of the books.

"Secondly, I know what you're thinking, but calling on someone doesn't automatically mean romance. If I said I was calling on you, would that mean I'm asking you out?"

You turned to another page. To Wyll, it felt like being transformed into a wilted leaf moments before fifty goats were released to shit on him so he became one with the manure.

"Fine," he muttered. "But you haven't seen him in years. People change. You don't know if he's become weird."

"Wyll, be serious."

Your irritation was beginning to show.

"I'm just trying to do my job."

Larry Johnson had his princess right on top of him. Metaphorically, that’s where you’d always been. Untouchable in the way people talked about you. You were new this year, it was like crack, you were like crack, your essence got people hooked. everyone he meant everyone was infatuated.

Even Travis. And Travis didn’t like anything.

So yeah, maybe “princess” wasn’t that far off. But still… would a princess really be here right now, in his space, in his arms marking up his neck?

His thoughts kept slipping as your lips brushed along his skin. It wasn’t even just the feeling; it was you. He swore that he was on the brink of cuming all over himself in his pants.

You pulled back just enough to look at him.

Larry blinked up at you, dazed, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “So nice seeing you here,” he murmured, voice a little rough. “You come here often?”

Your eyes were still a little hazy, but your grin came easy. “Sometimes,” you said lightly. “I drop by to stalk my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” he shot back, brows lifting. “Well… can’t go stealing someone else’s girl.”

You hit him for that then leaned in to kiss him properly, shutting him up before he could say anything else stupid. That was how most nights ended. On school nights, it wasn’t much different just traded for late calls, the sound of each other’s breathing through the line when one of you drifted off first.

Your relationship wasn’t exactly a secret. But it was private. You’d think Larry would be shouting it from the rooftops, bragging to anyone who’d listen but he didn’t. Not really. There was something about this about you that he kept close, like if he made too much noise about it, it might slip through his fingers.

One afternoon, he and Sal were cutting past the gym when the sound of laughter caught his attention. Cheer practice.

You were standing in a circle with the other girls, head tipped slightly as you laughed at something one of them said. The light caught you just right, and for a second, everything else blurred out. God, you’re beautiful.

What are you laughing about? He lingered a second too long, eyes narrowing just slightly. Were you talking about him?

somewhere along the way, you’d stopped being just a girl he liked. becoming his world, whether he meant for it to happen or not.

you… you shined. In a way that didn’t need him. That was the part that got under his skin. Standing there, watching you laugh so easily, he couldn’t help the thought that slipped in. He knew you were everything to him. He just didn’t know if he was everything to you.

So this is what led you to being under him on his bed. Enclosing you with his body, letting out sounds akin to a kicked puppy. A month wasn’t a long time. But it was long enough for you to notice when something was off. Larry had been clinging to you more than usual. The second his hands found you, it was like he forgot how to let go. You pressed your palm to his chest and pushed him back.

Once Larry started kissing you, he became impossible like some kind of determined leech. “You know,” you said, squinting up at him with a smirk, “I haven’t gone to war.”

He blinked, before a grin broke through. “Sheesh. Respect the hustle of loving a woman,” he shot back, leaning in just enough to press one last kiss to your forehead.

You huffed out a laugh. “Oh, I appreciate it, alright.” Your hands slid up to his shoulders, steadying him, keeping him right where he was. “But what’s up?”

“Nothing.”

You narrowed your eyes immediately. “I’m not letting you have any more kisses if you don’t tell me.”

His head snapped back like you’d just insulted his entire existence. “What the heck? Don’t strip my rights away like that.”

He tried to dip down anyway boldly, as if you wouldn’t stop him.

You caught his face with both hands and pushed him back, arms fully extended now, holding him at a very necessary distance. He huffed, clearly offended… and then, because he was him, leaned forward just enough to lick your hands.

You froze. “ Thanks,” you deadpanned, immediately wiping your hands off on his shirt. “I’ll clone you later. Already got a special jar ready.”

“I hope a pony isn’t too traumatized in there,” he shot back without missing a beat.

You snorted, but your grip didn’t loosen. “Larry.” Your thumbs brushed lightly against his cheeks, keeping his attention on you not letting him dodge it again.

“I mean it,” you said, quieter now. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked away from yours for a second, he was debating whether to say it at all. Though he would be damned if he was called a bottom bitch for not communicating.

“When you’re with your friends…” he started, voice a little rougher than usual. “Do you talk about me?”

You blinked, caught slightly off guard but then your expression softened, a smile pulling at your lips. “You’re my boyfriend,” you said easily. “Of course I do.”

That didn’t seem to settle him. His jaw tightened just a little. “Do you say I’m a sweetheart?” he pressed. “Or do you say I’m a freak?”

“Larry ”

You shifted, pushing him back gently until you were both sitting up properly on his bed, facing each other now.

He dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I’m just… curious if they know you like me the same way I’ve been liking you.”

The words came out faster than he meant them to. How much he liked you.

How easy it was to get lost in it every night blurring into the next, the way being around you felt bigger than anything he could really explain. He'd stepped into something he didn’t fully understand, but didn’t want to leave either.

You leaned in slightly, your voice steady when you spoke. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I’m not proud of you,” you said, eyes locked on his. “Because I am. There’s nobody else I could imagine being with.”

Something in his shoulders eased but only a little.

“I don’t mean to sound like a jerk about it,” he muttered, glancing down before looking back at you. “I’ve talked to Sal about you and stuff and ” he let out a short breath, almost laughing at himself. “The way you mess me up? It’s… a lot. In a good way, I think. I just ” He shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before.”

then your face broke into the biggest, most ridiculous smile. “Stop,” you said, already moving, already closing the distance.

You practically launched yourself at him, arms wrapping tight around his shoulders as you knocked him back slightly, sprawled over him now.

“Stop being the cutest person ever,” you mumbled into him. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

He let out a surprised laugh, hands coming up automatically to hold onto you.

“…So that’s a yes?” he teased, softer now.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, still close, still holding on.

Crashes echoed from somewhere beyond the mountains bordering Republic City. You barely had time to register it before the windows gave a rattle. Still, neither of you moved.

You and Zuko stood over a wide table scattered with blueprints. The city was finally taking shape in a real, tangible way.

You leaned forward slightly, tapping the edge of one page. “You know… it’s kind of amazing how well everything’s actually going to plan.”

Zuko let out a quiet breath that almost sounded like a laugh, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s… remarkable, yeah.” His gaze stayed fixed on the plans, but his hand resting near the corner shaked, just barely unsteady. “For something this big, I was expecting at least three disasters by now.”

You glanced up at him, catching the unease he clearly thought he was hiding.

“Zuko,” you said, softer now, nudging the paper toward him, “you should know by now you were a big part of making this work.”

He stiffened just a fraction, like the words caught him off guard. “I ” He stopped, jaw tightening briefly before he shook his head. “I just helped where I could.”

You raised a brow. “You helped build an entire city. That’s not exactly ‘where I could.’”

There was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.

BOOM.

The explosion hit harder this time louder, closer. The building shuddered, a deep, violent tremor that sent a ripple through the table. Papers lifted, some sliding clean off the edges.

Then Zuko moved first. “Outside. Now.”

You didn’t argue. By the time you burst through the doors, the air outside had already shifted. A distant plume of dark smoke curled upward from behind the mountains, thick and wrong against the sky.

“That wasn’t just a landslide,” you muttered.

“No,” Zuko replied, eyes narrowing as heat flickered faintly along his hands, instinct already kicking in. “It wasn’t.”

Another distant rumble followed, quieter this time. You were already moving.

“Race you?” you shot over your shoulder, grinning despite the situation.

Zuko huffed, stepping forward as flames burst from his feet in a controlled jet, lifting him smoothly into the air. “This isn’t a game.”

“Everything’s a game if you’re fast enough.”

“You’re being brash.”

“And you’re slow keep up!”

You sprinted ahead, boots pounding against the ground as the terrain shifted from clean stone to rough earth. Behind you, there was a sharp rush of heat as Zuko surged forward through the air, fire propelling him in quick bursts.

“Don’t get too far ahead!” he called.

“What, worried you’ll lose me?” you shot back.

“I’m serious!”

You glanced back just long enough to see the concern in his expression. That… made you slow just a fraction.

“Yeah,” you said, quieter this time. “Me too.”

Another tremor rolled through the ground beneath your feet. Closer now. By the time you and Zuko reached the source of the explosion, the world… didn’t make sense. The ground looked wrong like the earth itself had been torn up, churned, then dropped back down in the wrong order. Jagged ridges cut through what should’ve been smooth terrain, and the soil had that dry, brittle look of something ancient rather than freshly disturbed. Thin streams of smoke curled up from the center, drifting lazily like the aftermath of something far more violent than it should’ve been.

You slowed to a stop.

“…Okay,” you muttered, scanning the area. “That’s not normal.”

Zuko landed beside you. His stance was already defensive, eyes sharp as they swept the destruction. “Stay alert.”

You both exchanged a look before stepping forward. That’s when you heard it.

“ I am going to maim Korra…”

The voice dragged itself out of the smoke, rough and annoyed more than anything else.

You blinked. A figure shifted at the center of the wreckage. A man. He was pushing himself upright, clearly shaken, brushing dust from clothing that immediately caught your attention. Sleek, structured, layered in a way that felt unfamiliar advanced, almost. There was something elegant about it, even with dirt smeared across it.

He straightened fully, rolling his shoulder with a wince then noticed you and started walking closer.

Zuko stepped in front of you instantly, one arm out slightly as heat flickered to life in his palm. “Stay back!” His voice cut clean through the air. “Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

The man paused, lifting his hands in a show of surrender though his expression stayed oddly relaxed for someone standing in a crater. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, letting out a short, breathy laugh. “No harm intended. My friend and I were just training and uh ” he gestured vaguely behind him, “ I might’ve gotten hit a little harder than expected.”

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. “That’s a ‘little’ hard”

Zuko didn’t lower his guard. “If this is your idea of training, where’s your friend?”

“Good question,” the man said, turning to look around.

then… he frowned. “…Huh.”

You followed his gaze. There was nothing there. No second person. No signs of a second impact. Just broken earth stretching out in every direction.

“Um,” he said again, slower this time, scanning the horizon. “They should be… around here somewhere.”

His confusion didn’t look fake. “…What the heck?” he muttered under his breath.

Zuko’s stance tightened. You, on the other hand, stepped forward slipping just ahead of him.

“Hey ” Zuko started, annoyed.

You waved him off slightly without looking back. “Relax.”

He did not relax. You tilted your head at the stranger. “What’s your name?”

Zuko made a quiet, irritated sound behind you at your very bold decision making. The man straightened a bit, regaining some composure. “My name is General Iroh. And again deepest apologies for… all of this.”

The moment the name left his mouth Zuko moved. Fast. His hand shot out, grabbing your arm and pulling you back behind him so quickly you nearly stumbled.

“Hey !” you snapped, yanking slightly against his grip.

Zuko didn’t let go. His eyes were locked on the man now sharp, disbelieving, and just a little furious.

“No,” he said flatly. “You are not.”

The man blinked, genuinely taken aback. “I… think I would know who I am.”

Zuko took a step forward. “That name belongs to someone else.”

You huffed, trying to pry your arm free. “Okay wow territorial much ”

“Stay behind me.”

“I’m not a houseplant, Zuko.”

“Now is not the time ”

“Actually,” you cut in, finally slipping out of his grip and stepping up beside him again, “now is exactly the time for everyone to take a breath before this turns into something stupid.”

You glanced between the two of them. Yeah. This was going great. You lifted your hands slightly. “Okay. Let’s all collectively take a chill pill for one second.”

Zuko didn’t move. The man didn’t move.

You exhaled slowly. “Cool. Love that no one is listening.”

You pointed at the stranger. “You mystery explosion guy are claiming you’re General Iroh.”

Then you jabbed a thumb toward Zuko. “And he knows a General Iroh, so obviously that’s setting off about twelve alarms.”

“I figured,” the man admitted.

“Great. So here’s what we’re gonna do ” you stepped slightly between them now, firmly claiming mediator status whether they liked it or not, “ nobody attacks anybody for at least… five minutes.”

Zuko scoffed quietly. “I wasn’t going to ”

“You were absolutely about to,” you shot back without missing a beat.

“…Stop being rash,” he returned, shooting you a look.

You turned right back to the stranger, unimpressed. “And you I don’t know who you are, but that’s a really stupid claim.”

He winced, just a little. “In my defense… it is my name.”

Zuko’s eye twitched.

You clapped your hands once, sharp and loud in the smoky air. “Okay! Great. Love the energy. Hate the progress.”

Neither of them laughed. You exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down your face before gesturing broadly at the wreckage around you. “New question where do you think you are right now?”

The man opened his mouth. “…Not where I was supposed to be,” he admitted.

You nodded once. “Yeah. Same page.”

Zuko didn’t relax an inch. “…Explain.”

The man Iroh, allegedly ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to piece something together. “Well… that’s the problem.” He glanced between the two of you. “I’m not entirely sure I can.”

“That’s not a start,” you said flatly.

“Okay okay, wait.” He lifted his hands again, thinking fast now. “Um… I’m friends with the Avatar.”

You stared at him.

Then immediately started walking toward him like you were about to escort him out yourself. “Sure you are, buddy. Come on,” you said, completely dismissing him as you closed the distance. “Let’s get you somewhere that can get you the support you need.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, though, something nagged at you. The voice. The attitude. The way he held himself. Why does he sound like?

“Oh my god, you must be ” You blinked as he suddenly froze, eyes going wide as he looked straight at you like you’d just solved a puzzle you didn’t know you were part of.

“…What?” you said, immediately suspicious.

But he wasn’t looking at you anymore. He was looking past you. “Grandpa.”

Looked at Zuko. Then back at him. Then back at Zuko. then you absolutely lost it. A loud, unrestrained cackle burst out of you as you pointed straight at Zuko. “GRANDPA?!”

Zuko’s face went from confusion to horror to pure offense in under a second. “What no ”

You doubled over slightly, still pointing. “Oh that’s no, that’s perfect. Fire Lord Zuko ruler of a nation reduced to ” you gasped for air, “ grandpa.”

“I am not ” Zuko snapped, flustered now, color rising to his face. “That doesn’t even make sense!”

Behind you, the man looked just as confused. “Wait no, hold on why is he so young?”

You wheezed. “Oh my god, it gets better ”

Zuko dragged a hand down his face, already done with this entire situation. “Okay. That’s enough.”

“Aw, come on, grandpa, don’t be like that ”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Make me.”

“Please stop encouraging this,” he said through gritted teeth, clearly aiming that last part at the universe more than you.

You straightened up slightly, still grinning like you’d just been handed the best joke of your life. Zuko turned back to the stranger, voice sharp again though now carrying a very clear thread of personal irritation.“Alright. That’s it. You’re coming with us.”

“Wait, I ” the man started.

“No arguments,” Zuko cut in, already stepping forward.

You snorted. “Yeah, okay, psycho let’s get you out of here.”

“Hey,” the man protested weakly, “I’m not a psycho ”

“Debatable,” you and Zuko said at the exact same time.

You glanced at him, then at Zuko.

“…Okay that was a little cool,” you admitted.

Zuko huffed. “Don’t.”

Behind you, the man rubbed the back of his neck, still staring at Zuko like he was trying to solve a very personal mystery.

“…Are you not together?” he asked carefully.

Zuko confused just said. “No.”

You tilted your head, studying the stranger again, that earlier thought creeping back in. “…I don’t know,” you muttered. “He does kinda sound like you.”

Zuko shot you a look. “Don’t.”

You grinned. “What? I’m just saying if you had a future kid or something ”

“I’m going to start ignoring you.”

“You already try.” A beat. “…It doesn’t work.”

You smiled sweetly. Zuko sighed. behind both of you, the so called General Iroh just stood there, watching the two of you with disbelief.

“…Yeah,” he murmured under his breath. “That tracks.”

Bringing him into the city only made things… stranger. You’d expected resistance. maybe. At the very least, a little attitude. The guy looked like you’d just dropped him into the most impressive place he’d ever seen. His head kept turning as you walked taking in the buildings, the streets, the movement of people, the bending, the life of it all. His eyes lingered on everything just a second too long, like he was trying to memorize it.

You couldn’t help the small flicker of pride that settled in your chest.

“Yeah,” you said casually as you led him along, “not bad for something that ‘wasn’t supposed to work,’ right?”

“It’s…” he trailed off, almost smiling to himself. “It’s incredible.”

You smirked a little. “I’ll take that.”

Now he sat across from you securely locked in a holding room, because you weren’t completely reckless though the way he carried himself made it feel more like he was visiting than detained. Zuko had already stormed off to find Aang, leaving you behind with a firm don’t do anything stupid.

Naturally, you stayed. Because you absolutely wanted to hear more from the “possibly insane stranger.”

You leaned back slightly, arms crossed. “So… Iroh.”

He looked up at you, calm as ever. “You know that’s a very special name to my friend,” you added, watching him carefully.

“I know,” he said easily. “And I’m very grateful for my name.”

That answer… didn’t feel rehearsed. You tilted your head, studying him. “You don’t seem like a bad person. Of course,” you added lightly, “that could be famous last words.”

He let out a small breath of a laugh, quieter than before. “I suppose that’s fair.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. he looked at you again “I never really got to know you,” he said softly.

You blinked. “That’s because we just met.”

He shook his head faintly, like that wasn’t quite what he meant. “You’re… very kind.”

You stared at him for a second. Then narrowed your eyes slightly. “You say crazier things the longer you’re here.”

That earned a small smile. “Yeah,” he admitted under his breath. “I’m starting to notice that.”

You shifted your weight, leaning one shoulder against the wall now. “So… um…” he hesitated, “How are you and Zuko?”

You blinked at the sudden shift. “What? Him and I? well hes one of my best friends,” you answered, like it was obvious.

“Friends?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” you said slowly, narrowing your eyes again. “What about it?”

“Nothing nothing,” he said quickly, but there was something off about the way he looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is just… weird.”

You pushed off the wall slightly, stepping closer to the bars.

“Weird how?”

He exhaled, glancing back at you hesitating like he was deciding how much to say.

“Because where I’m from,” he said carefully, “that’s… not exactly how I would’ve described it.”

You stared at him. “…Okay,” you said slowly. He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

His smile softened again but there was something behind it now. Something heavier. “…You matter to him,” he said. You didn’t answer right away. He continued, quieter this time. “A lot more than just ‘friend.’”

You held his gaze, trying to decide if he was messing with you, guessing, or… something else entirely.

“…You’re very bizarre,” you said finally,

That was the last you saw of him. Aang showed up not long after with Katara close behind and between the two of them, things moved quickly. You’d tried to linger. Zuko had given you a look.

Not harsh but firm enough that you knew when you were being gently pushed out of the room. So you left it. The next morning, when curiosity inevitably dragged you back, he was gone. You stood there for a moment longer than you needed to, staring at the empty space like it might give you something if you looked hard enough.

“…Huh,” you muttered to yourself. that was that. Just another strange, unexplainable thing to add to the growing list.

it didn’t stay that simple. Because as the day went on. you kept catching yourself drifting back to it. You leaned against a railing overlooking one of the busier streets, arms folded loosely as your gaze tracked the movement below without really seeing it.

“…Weird,” you murmured again, softer this time.

Your fingers tapped absently against your arm as your thoughts shifted unavoidably to Zuko.

To the way you’d answered without thinking: He’s one of my best friends. You exhaled slowly through your nose. “Yeah,” you muttered under your breath. “That’s normal.”

It was normal. You and Zuko fought. Constantly, sometimes. You pushed, he snapped back, you ignored him, he got annoyed it was just how things worked. There was nothing strange about it.

Your jaw tightened just slightly. Then why did that answer feel… incomplete?

You shifted your weight, straightening a little as your gaze drifted upward toward the skyline toward the palace where he was probably still dealing with whatever Aang had uncovered.

The memory slipped back in whether you wanted it to or not “Friends?”

You huffed quietly. “Well, what was I supposed to say?”

You weren’t wrong. Zuko was your best friend. One of the most important people in your life. The one you ended up next to in every situation without really thinking about it.

Your fingers curled slightly against your sleeve. “…Okay,” you said under your breath, “We’re not doing that.”

Doing what, exactly, you didn’t clarify. You pushed off the railing, starting to walk again just to have something else to focus on.

“You matter to him.”

You frowned slightly, your steps slowing despite yourself. “…People matter to people,” you muttered, like that settled it.

Right? Zuko cared about a lot of people. His uncle. His friends. The city. His responsibility. You weren’t… special in that way. Were you?

Your stomach did something uncomfortable at the thought, and you immediately scowled like you could bully the feeling into going away.

“Nope,” you said quietly. “Absolutely not.”

You dragged a hand down your face, exhaling. This was ridiculous. You’d faced worse than confusing strangers and their cryptic comments. Way worse. This shouldn’t be the thing that stuck.

“Hey.” Your shoulders tensed just slightly at the sound of his voice behind you.

“I brought you some ginseng tea.”

You turned and immediately broke into a laugh. “You did not.” There he was Zuko, standing there, holding what was very clearly a vase.

He frowned slightly, glancing down at it like he was only now reconsidering his choices. “It holds liquid.”

“That’s not the point,” you laughed, stepping closer anyway. “Where did you even get that?”

“…It was there,” he said, like it explained anything.

“Of course it was.”

He held it out toward you, just a little more insistently now. “Careful. It’s hot.”

Your laughter softened into something quieter as you reached out, taking it from him carefully despite yourself. The ceramic was warm against your hands too warm, really and you adjusted your grip quickly.

“Yeah, no kidding, did you boil the ocean?”

He huffed. “You complain a lot for someone who hasn’t burned themselves yet.”

“I’m working on it.”

You looked down at the tea, watching the faint curl of steam rise from the surface.

“…I appreciate it,” you said, more sincerely this time.

Zuko didn’t answer right away. He was already watching you. Your grip tightened slightly around the vase.

“…What?” you asked, a little too quickly.

“Nothing,” he said, just as fast.

You narrowed your eyes. “youre so weird.”

He exhaled sharply, looking away for a second like he was deciding whether this was worth it.

“…You’ve been quiet,” he said finally.

You blinked.

“That’s your big observation?”

“You’re usually louder.”

“Wow. Deep.”

“I’m serious.”

You glanced back down at the tea, buying yourself a second. “I’ve just been thinking.”

“About him.” You tilted your head slightly. “Among other things.”

Zuko’s jaw tightened just a fraction. “Aang and Katara thought he might be telling the truth.”

You snorted softly. “Of course they do.”

“They also thought he might not be from here.”

That made you look up again.

“…Define ‘not from here.’”

Zuko hesitated. “As in not just another place. Another… time.”

You looked down at the tea. Then back at him. “…You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

A small silence settled between you. “…Huh,” you said. You shifted your weight, leaning back slightly against the railing again.

“…He said some weird things,” you admitted.

Zuko’s eyes flicked back to you. “Like what?”

You hesitated. Then shrugged, aiming for casualness and missing it slightly. “Nothing important.”

Zuko didn’t buy it. You could tell. “Nothing?” he pressed.

“Nothing,” you repeated. “…He asked about us.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them. Zuko stilled. “Us?” he echoed.

You immediately regretted everything.

“Not us, us,” you said quickly, gesturing vaguely with the vase and nearly sloshing tea over the edge. “Just you and me. As people. Existing. Near each other.”

“What did you say?”

“That you’re my best friend,” you said, a little more defensive than you meant to.

Zuko blinked. That answer caught him off guard. “…Oh,” he said.

You frowned slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he said, a little too quickly again.

You narrowed your eyes. He looked away, jaw tightening slightly. “It’s just”

He stopped. “…What?” you pushed.

Zuko exhaled slowly, the words were heavier than they should’ve been. “…Is that all it is?” he asked.

Your heart did something very unhelpful in your chest. You stared at him. “…What?”

He didn’t look back at you this time. “Nothing,” he said again, quieter now.

You let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Oh, now you don’t get to do that. You asked the question.”

“I shouldn’t have.”

Silence stretched between you again but this time it felt different. You shifted your grip on the vase, the warmth of it suddenly a lot more noticeable.

“…Why does it matter?” you asked, softer now.

Zuko didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was low. “I don’t know.”

“…Yeah,” you murmured. “Me neither.”

“I, um… I think that you’re very kind.” You blinked, looking up at Zuko like he’d just spoken a different language.

“…Gee. Thanks.”

He frowned immediately, like that wasn’t what he meant. “No, I”

“I think you’re a very tolerable person,” he added awkwardly.

“Zuko, I’m going to hit you.”

“Stop,” he said quickly, holding up a hand like you might actually follow through. “I’m trying to say something.”

He exhaled slowly, he was bracing himself.

“I also think… that that person means what he says.”

Zuko swallowed, jaw tensing before he forced himself to keep going.

“He made me think of a future with you.” His voice dipped lower, “And then I thought about a future without you and it” He stopped, shaking his head once like he didn’t even want to finish the thought. “It made me sick.”

Something in your chest twisted hard enough that it almost knocked the breath out of you.

“Zuko” you started, but he didn’t let you stop him this time.

“I don’t know when it changed,” he said, more firmly now, like he’d finally found the thing he was trying to say. “Or if it always felt like this and I just didn’t realize it… I want to create that future with you.”

You stared at him, your mind trying and failing to catch up with everything that was said.

“…You’re really bad at this,” you said quietly.

His expression faltered. “I”

“But,” you added just as quickly, stepping a little closer, “thank you.”

“That guy whoever he is” you continued softly, “he didn’t just see something that wasn’t there.”

Zuko’s breath hitched just slightly.

You tilted your head, a faint smile pulling at your lipsnot teasing this time, but something softer. “He might've just helped us change everything”

Your gaze dropped briefly to the vase still in your hands before you carefully set it down on the railing beside you, freeing your hands.

“…So,” you said, a little lighter, even if your heart was still racing, “this future you’re planning”

Zuko stiffened slightly. “I didn’t say I planned it”

“am I still allowed to call you grandpa in it?”

He stared at you. “…Absolutely not.”

You grinned.

“Then I’ll think about it.”

“You know, Toph because you’re like… super in tune with vibrations and feelings or whatever ”

Toph was digging her toes into the sand. “youre speaking weird”

“What? I’m just saying ” you leaned in a little, lowering your voice like you were about to reveal a deep philosophical thought. “ Does that mean you’re like… really good at sex?”

Toph’s head snapped up so fast it was honestly impressive for someone who “couldn’t see.” Her face went red before her expression hardened into something feral.

“…you wanna repeat that, loud enough for the entire beach to hear?”

You opened your mouth. The sand beneath your feet shifted.

“WAIT ”

Too late. The ground launched you straight into the air like a catapult.

“IM JUST CURIOUS !”

You flailed above the sand mountain while somewhere below, Toph dusted her hands off like she’d just taken out the trash.

“You’re curious? Great. Be curious from up there!”

You hit the sand with a very undignified whump, coughing as grains got everywhere they absolutely should not be.

From a short distance away, you turned back toward Toph, pouting despite the sand stuck to your cheek. “I was just curious…”

Toph tilted her head slightly, a slow grin spreading across her face.

“Oh, I know you were,” she said sweetly. “Your heartbeat spiked, your breathing got weird.”

You froze.

“…you can tell all that?”

She smirked, crossing her arms. “Please. I can feel everything”

You stare at her in a bit of shock and suddenly flushing. “That explains so much, actually.”

Toph took a step closer, the sand crunching under her heel as she leaned in just enough to be intimidating.

“And for the record,” she added, voice low and smug, “if I was good at anything, you’d never be brave enough to ask me about it.”

A small rock smacked into your shin.

“OW HEY ”

“Next question like that,” Toph said, already turning away, “you wont like the outcome”

You huffed, brushing yourself off. “…still didn’t answer the question.”

The ground rumbled again.

“And that’s when I said,” Sokka continued, pacing with his boomerang slung over his shoulder, “‘You can take our sky bison, but you’ll never take our ’”

“Our what?” one of the kids interrupted.

Sokka paused. “…Our… dignity.”

The kids gasped anyway. Perfect. Sokka smirked, clearly pleased with himself, and kept going. “So there I was, outnumbered, outmatched, and let’s be honest better looking than everyone else involved ”

Two of the kids nodded seriously. You snickered to yourself knowing damn well about any of the adventures from what katara has told you and for a fact that their earlier adventures were always a little rocky.

The third squinted. “Weren’t you the guy who got stuck in a hole that one time?”

Sokka froze. “…What?”

“The hole,” the kid repeated. “My cousin said you fell in one”

The other two kids turned to Sokka, waiting. Sokka blinked. Once. Twice. His confidence visibly deflated.

“first of all dont start believing just what people tell you” he said, pointing defensively. “And second of all, I climbed out myself. Mostly.”

The kid tilted their head. “So you did fall in a hole.”

Sokka opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. From a short distance away, you couldn’t hold it in anymore you laughed.

Not loud enough to completely ruin him, but definitely loud enough for him to hear. Sokka’s head snapped toward you. “Hey! You! no commentary from the peanut gallery!”

You raised your hands innocently, still grinning. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Youre supposed to be my number one supporter.”

The kids turned to you now, curious, as if you might confirm the story. You just shrugged. “He also once thought a cactus was a good source of energy.”

Sokka groaned. “Okay, that was one time and I was dehydrated!”

The kids burst into giggles. Sokka sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “…I had them. I had them.”

You stepped a little closer, still smiling. “You still do. They’re just getting the full version now.”

He shot you a look. “You are not invited to my storytelling sessions anymore.”

“Too late,” you said, settling nearby. “like you said, im your number one fan.”

“I said supporter but i suppose you can have a promotion” Clearly giddy that you're here.

One of the kids piped up again, eyes shining. “Tell us about the cactus!”

Sokka groaned louder this time, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.

“…Fine. if anything this can be a cautionary tale about how strong my body is.”

“Of course” you muttered.

he was back in it while the kids leaned in, completely hooked all over again. You stayed off to the side, arms loosely crossed, watching the performance with a kind of fondness you hadn’t expected to feel when all of this started.

It still felt strange sometimes how quickly things had changed over the course of a few years. Not long ago, you’d stood on the opposite side of the war. Loyal to the Fire Nation, to the Fire Lord, to everything you’d been raised to believe was right. And then Zuko had shown up, insistent, asking no, pushing you to see things differently. To trust him.

You hadn’t switched sides “in an instant.” That was the version people liked to tell.

The truth was that you thought Zuko was full of shit. Unfortunately he was someone that you trusted so you went along with it somehow, against your better judgment, you trusted him anyway.

That trust had pulled you straight into the orbit of Aang and the rest of them. At first, it was because of Zuko. The two of you had fallen into step easily, like nothing had really changed between you. Late night conversations, understanding, standing side by side in battles that actually meant something now.

Call it teenage romance or whatever you want to call it but you and Zuko really did care for each other but it mightve been the height of everything and having a person to rely on. You moving away from your family to help him was less moving away and you getting kicked out

Meanwhile, Sokka had been… well, Sokka. You’d liked Suki almost immediately anyone with that much confidence and skill was impossible not to admire and the gaang had very easily (sorta) won during the final stretch of the war.

But things changed after. Suki went back to Kyoshi Island. Zuko… became Fire Lord.

And Sokka You glanced over at him now as he crouched in front of the kids, lowering his voice whispering the story. (clearly embarrassed even though you know the real story)

Sokka stayed… Sokka.

The Water Tribe wasn’t what you were used to. It was colder, quieter in some ways, people didn’t look at you like they trusted you right away not after where you came from but they didn’t shut you out either. It helped that Sokka never treated you like you didn’t belong. Even when neither of you could really define why you were both still here.

“…and that’s when I single handedly made sure no one was poisoned,” Sokka was saying now, puffing up slightly.

“You mean you drank a random plant” one of the kids asked.

Sokka pointed at them. “We are talking about looking out for your teammates."

You laughed again, softer this time. He glanced over at you, catching it, and rolled his eyes.

“Anyway,” he continued quickly, trying to recover his momentum, “the point is I am a highly trained warrior.”

“Then why do you live here?” another kid asked innocently. “Shouldn’t you be… somewhere important?”

His eyes flicked toward you without thinking. You pushed yourself off the wall and walked over, stepping into the edge of the little circle. “He is somewhere important, protecting you all”

Sokka blinked. The kids looked between you both. To answer their confusion. You shrugged lightly. “Someone has to keep an eye on him.”.

Then one of the kids grinned. “Ohhh, so you’re in charge.”

Sokka scoffed immediately. “I am absolutely in charge.”

“Sure you are,” you said under your breath.

He shot you a look. “give me some grace lady”

You met his gaze for a moment, oh how you love how freaking weird he is. “…Yeah,” you said, smiling.

Maybe he had rubbed off on you more than you liked to admit. You clapped your hands once, turning to the kids. “Alright, show’s over. Get out before I start kicking you all out myself.”

They stared at you. “Wow,” one of them said, unimpressed. “What’s your problem, lady?”

“Your face,” you shot back immediately, pointing toward the door. “Now go. Before I tell Sokka to put cactus juice in your food.”

They scattered, laughing and shouting protests as they pushed out the door, one of them yelling, “He would do it!” over their shoulder.

The door shut behind them, and just like that, the room went quiet. You exhaled softly, a small smile still on your face as you turned back. Sokka was already looking at you. “What?” you asked, raising a brow, though your voice came out lighter than you expected. “…your confidence repels me,” you said lying through your teeth as you stepped closer anyway, like something unseen kept pulling you in.

Sokka rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away for half a second before looking back at you again. “You didn’t have to follow me out here. Missed home, I just… didn’t think you’d stay this long.”

You tilted your head. “You trying to get rid of me?”

“Hey no,” he said quickly. “No, I just ” He exhaled, trying again. “I’m glad you did.”

“Wow,” you said dryly. “Don’t get all soft on me, tough guy.”

He groaned. “I was being sincere.”

“I can be sincere and a little bossy.” you state switching the topic to yourself

“Uh huh,” he said, folding his arms again. “Sure. What do you got?”

You stepped into him before he could overthink it, grabbing his shirt and tugging him down just enough to meet you. “kissing me.”

He didn’t get the chance to respond properly“oh ” before your lips met his.

his hands found your waist faster than anyone could blink, pulling you closer. When you pulled back, it wasn’t far. Close enough that you could still feel his breath hitch a little, like he was catching up.

“…Okay,” he said finally, blinking once. “That was ”

“Don’t ruin it,” you cut in, narrowing your eyes slightly.

He shut his mouth immediately to frown.

“…I was going to say ‘super amazing awesome,’” he tried.

You stared at him with a smirk displayed on your face.

He winced. “Right. Still ruining it.”

“Unbelievable,” you muttered but you didn’t move away.

If anything, your hands stayed exactly where they were. “So,” he said, quieter now, “wanna head home?”

You smile in return. “Let's go home.” you say while grabbing his hand.

Sokka smiling like an idiot while you both leave.

Sal stared at him for a long moment, then dragged a hand down his face. “Why can’t you be into normal weird things, like hitting each other?”

Larry broke into a grin. “Sal, be so for real. Of course I’m into that.”

Sal flattened his lips, unimpressed. He turned away with a deep breath, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on the scuffed floor. The joke had landed the way Larry probably intended.

After a second, Sal glanced back. Larry wasn’t grinning anymore. He was staring off again, fingers fidgeting with the frayed hem of his sleeve. He looked like he was searching for the next outrageous thing to say, like if he could just stay one step ahead of everyone’s discomfort, he wouldn’t have to sit in his own.

Everyone knew Larry didn’t exactly have the best track record when it came to… well, anything involving consistency. It was kind of funny until you sat with it a little too long and realized there was something a bit sad tucked underneath the jokes.

Sal let out a quiet sigh, softer this time, like he didn’t want it to sound as heavy as it felt. “Someone’ll find you, bro.”

Larry huffed out a laugh, glancing over at him. “Says you.”

Sal nudged his shoe against Larry’s, a small, grounding gesture. “Yeah. Says me.” He paused, then added with a slight smirk, “Didn’t you say our dear old friend is coming?”

Larry groaned, rolling his eyes. “Ew, don’t talk like you’re fifty. But yeah our dear old friend is coming.”

“Sick,” Sal said, leaning back a bit. “Feels like I haven’t seen her in forever.”

“Damn, bro. Maybe you need to get good. I see her almost every day.”

Right on cue, footsteps echoed up the stairs light, quick, familiar. Then you appeared in the doorway, holding up a bag. “Hello, my favorite little emos. I come bearing gifts.”

Larry practically lit up, sitting up straighter. “Thank God. I was starting to think Sal wasn’t going to feed me.” His eyes zeroed in on the bag.

“Oh, you poor baby,” you said, stepping closer, your tone dripping with mock sympathy.

Larry leaned in, already reaching but just before his fingers could brush the bag, you lifted a hand and pressed a finger lightly against his forehead, stopping him in his tracks.

“Get on your knees and beg for it.”

“Boooo,” Larry shot back immediately, leaning away with a scoff. “You loser. Not happening.”

Sal watched the exchange like he always did. You and Larry had the strangest dynamic for two people who insisted, constantly, that there was nothing going on between you.

“Well,” you said with a casual shrug, pulling the bag back toward your chest, “guess these are just for Sal and me, then.”

Larry’s head snapped toward you. “Why does Sal get it for free?”

You clicked your tongue, stepping closer again, tilting your head up just enough to meet his eyes. you pointed toward the floor. “Because,” you said sweetly, “he doesn’t make me work for it.”

Larry stared at you for a second, jaw tightening like he was debating whether to play along or just tackle you for the bag. He would never say it out loud but fuck were you so hot when you acted like this. 

Then, in the most exaggerated voice he could manage, he bent his knees just a little barely committing. “Oh great one, please, oh please, grace me with your sweetness.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Weak. Whimper for me.”

“Fuck off,” he muttered instantly before dipping down just enough to snatch the bag straight out of your hands from below.

“Hey !”

Larry was already backing up, a victorious grin spreading across his face as he held the bag up like a trophy. “Survival of the fittest.”

You just laughed, shaking your head as you turned to Sal. “So what were you two weirdos doing before I got here? You both look slumped.”

Sal glanced over at Larry, then back at you. “Nothing much. Just Larry complaining about his love life.”

“Hey ” Larry started, muffled slightly as he dug through the bag.

“Well,” you cut in, crossing your arms with a teasing tilt of your head, “I think he’s a lost cause and should probably just give up. Might have to settle for me at this point.”

Sal’s eyes flicked toward Larry, something clicking into place behind his mask. Larry, meanwhile, was already looking at you. “You couldn’t handle all this,” Larry shot back, pointing down at himself.

You choked out a laugh. “You wish.” The moment hung for just a beat longer than usual before you clapped your hands together lightly. “Okay, well I know I just got here, but my mom called me on the way over. I’ve gotta head out.”

Sal immediately sat up straighter. “Oh shit. Yeah, we should actually plan something properly soon.”

He stood and pulled you into a quick hug.

“Of course,” you said warmly, squeezing him back. “I miss you, Sal, so much.”

“You got here like a minute ago?!” Larry huffed from across the room, a lollipop now tucked between his lips as he sank deeper into the bean bag.

You pulled away from Sal, already turning toward Larry. “I’m literally seeing you later today, my guy.”

You walked over to him without hesitation. He didn’t even move just watched you, slightly slouched, eyes following every step like he forgot how to function for a second. Then, you reached down, plucked the lollipop straight out of his mouth and popped it into yours.

From behind you, Sal’s jaw practically hit the floor. Larry blinked once. Twice. Did that just?

“Mmm,” you hummed, completely unfazed, smiling around the candy. “This one’s good.” just like that, you turned and headed out, tossing a quick wave over your shoulder like you hadn’t just detonated a bomb in the room.

The door clicked shut. Silence. Sal slowly turned his head toward Larry, eyes narrowed behind his prosthetic, absolute disbelief radiating off of him. Larry, meanwhile, was still staring at the door then down at the candy bag then back at the door again, like his brain was lagging.

Sal didn’t say anything at first. He just stared. Hard.

“Dude,” Larry said finally, glancing over and immediately recoiling a bit, “you’re scaring me. You look like you’re about to kill me.”

Sal didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t speak.

Larry shifted, suddenly uncomfortable under the intensity, and grabbed a handful of candy, chucking a few pieces at him. “Stop it. You’re being weird.”

A gummy bounced off Sal’s shoulder. Another hit his chest. Still nothing.Then, finally 

“You stupid fuck,” Sal said flatly.

Larry blinked again. “What did I do?!”

Sal just kept staring at him, like he was watching the slowest, most painful train wreck in real time. “Not to use your words,” he said flatly, “but you vanilla ass bitch.”

“Excuse you, mister BDSM,” Larry shot back, sitting up a little straighter. “What are you even talking about?”

“I think you need to stop smoking weed,” Sal muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s actually bad for my mental health at this point.”

“Well, that’s not happening anytime soon,” Larry shrugged, already reaching back into the candy like nothing was wrong.

Sal leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees. “Larry. You have a really pretty girl who is very obviously into you and you just gave her nothing back.”

Larry frowned, the words hitting somewhere he didn’t want to acknowledge. “That’s different. She’s our friend.”

Sal tilted his head. “Is Ash and I different?”

“Yes,” Larry said immediately. “You two have been hard for each other since day one. It was obvious.”

Sal gave a small, humorless huff. “Exactly. And this?” He gestured vaguely toward the door you’d just walked out of. “This is obvious too. You’re just choosing to be stupid about it.”

Larry leaned back again, dragging a hand through his hair. “It’s not like that.”

“It is like that,” Sal pressed. “She flirts with you constantly. you're being a pathetic little bitch boy”

“I am not ”

“You are,” Sal cut in. “everything she did you almost looked like a kicked puppy looking for guidance.”

Larry opened his mouth, then closed it again, jaw tightening. “Plus,” Sal added, leaning back now, voice quieter but sharper, “if I remember correctly, you were just complaining earlier about how you wish someone would out freak you.”

Larry shot him a look.

Sal raised an eyebrow behind his mask. “Seems like someone can’t handle her.”

Larry scoffed, but it came out weaker than he meant it to. “I can handle her.”

“Yeah?” Sal said, unimpressed. “Then why aren't you doing something about it”

Larry didn’t answer right away. His fingers tightened slightly around the crinkled candy bag, eyes dropping to it like it suddenly required all his attention.

“…It’s different,” he muttered again, but there was less conviction in it this time.

Sal watched him for a second, then shook his head. “You’re gonna fumble this so hard, man.”

Larry huffed out a quiet laugh, but it didn’t quite land. “I’m not fumbling anything.”

Sal leaned back, crossing his arms. “Sure buddy.”

It was later, you were now in his room just lounging about. You were sprawled on Larry’s bed, your shoulder tucked into his side, your laptop balanced on your thighs as it wheezed through whatever sketchy site you were using. The screen flickered every now and then like it was in its last life. Larry was flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, one arm resting behind his head. To you, the silence didnt feel any out of the ordinary. You figured he was off in his own little world, probably dancing with the devils lettuce, probably thinking about something random.

he wasn’t. He was thinking about you. He caught himself wondering what it would be like to call you his girlfriend. Thinking back to what Sal had said, like it wouldn’t sound insane, right? What it would feel like to walk around with his arm around your waist instead of just brushing past you or bumping shoulders like it was all accidental.

What it would be like to kiss you. Not the joking, almost kind you threw around but real.

His jaw shifted slightly as he stared at the ceiling. He thought about how you looked when you got bossy with him, telling him what to do like you owned him. How you’d grab his wrist and drag him somewhere without asking, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like when you’d sit behind him and start braiding his hair out of nowhere because you were bored, fingers working through it without even asking. He never told you how much he liked that. Never told you he’d sit there longer than he needed to just so you wouldn’t stop.

It hit him slowly, but when it did it felt like the world was spinning. Maybe this wasn’t just a joke. Maybe it hadn’t been for a while. Before he could spiral too far into that realization, your laptop crackled and suddenly music started playing through the tinny speakers.

“I know you’re more into metal,” you said casually, not even looking up, “but hypothetically, boyband music might be my new everything.”

Larry blinked, pulled out of his head. “Just because I listen to metal doesn’t mean I won’t delve into other music.”

That got your attention. You glanced over at him, one eyebrow raised. “You wanna bet on that?”

“Bet.”

You didn’t even hesitate. “New Kids on the Block.”

Larry scoffed. “You think I’m not fucking with Step by Step?”

You turned toward him fully now, squinting. “Absolutely not.”

“Well, you’re right,” he admitted immediately, lips twitching, “but I could be a boyband guy and you’ll never know.”

“Mm hmm. Sure,” you hummed, unconvinced.

You went back to your laptop, scrolling aimlessly as another song queued up, your voice soft as you hummed along without really thinking about it.

“Hey,” Larry said, still staring at the ceiling. “Do you think I’d be boyband material?”

“What do you mean?” you replied, barely glancing up from your screen.

He hesitated. “Like… am I pretty boy enough for all those losers?”

That made you pause. Slowly, you turned your head to look at him, really look at him this time. “Are you asking me if I think you’re pretty?”

He immediately recoiled. “The fuck no. I would never.”

You didn’t even flinch. “Larry Johnson, I genuinely think you are the prettiest ever.”

It came out so easily. Larry scoffed on instinct, turning his head away from you like the ceiling had suddenly become fascinating again. “Ew. Gross.”

But the tips of his ears were already red.

“Want me to prove it?” you said, a small grin tugging at your lips as you shifted a little closer.

“Stop being weird,” he muttered quickly, shoulders tensing just enough to give him away. “Jesus.”

You snorted softly. “Fine, fine. Just bothering you.”

Larry stayed still for a second, then another. His jaw tightened slightly,  he didn’t know where to put the feeling that just landed in his chest. Prettiest. He huffed quietly under his breath, trying to brush it off, but it didn’t really work. His eyes flicked toward you for a split second just enough to catch the way you were still humming, completely unbothered, like you hadn’t just said something that stuck to him harder than it should’ve.

“…You’re so fucking weird,” he muttered, but there was no bite to it. His arm shifted just slightly. This time, it didn’t stop. Slowly, almost like he could still pretend it wasn’t intentional, he let it rest around your shoulders. He didn’t look at you when he did it. Just stared at the ceiling again, heart beating a little faster than it should for something so small.

“…Don’t make it a thing,” he added under his breath.

Now it was your turn to flush. Flirting had always been easy. Safe, even. It was your thing between you two. If it ever got too real, you could laugh it off, call it a joke, hide behind the rhythm you’d built together. His arm around you. The way he said that like it could be something. It made your chest feel tight.

“A thing,” you echoed, a little quieter than you meant to. The words sat wrong in your mouth, suddenly heavy. You thought about all the times you’d hinted maybe you weren’t as untouchable as you liked to pretend. Maybe you couldn’t handle it when it came back.

Larry felt it immediately. He flinched slightly, brows pulling together. That… wasn’t how that was supposed to land.

“Woah hold on,” he said, pushing himself up on his elbows. “Major random shift here.”

“It’s fine, dude. It’s chill,” you said quickly, already moving away, sitting up, putting space between you.

“Clearly not.”

You snapped your laptop shut a little too fast. “I should go. Wouldn’t want to make it a thing.”

Larry blinked, completely thrown. “Are you serious? What is happening right now?”

You didn’t answer. You just stood, grabbing your jacket, heading for the door. He shot up trying to get a hold of you “Hey ” He got there before you could reach the handle, stepping in front of the door. “What did I say? You just sprung up and got all weird.”

“Larry, it’s fine. Really. I just wanna go home,” you said, exhaling like if you kept your tone even, it wouldn’t crack.

“I thought you were spending the night.”

You let out a short huff, shaking your head. Then it slipped out before you could stop it: “Would making us a thing be so bad?”

“No,” he said. That made your chest twist worse.

“It’s just not fair,” you went on, voice tighter now, “even if I care about you, to just… wait around for it to not be a thing.”

Larry stared at you, something finally clicking into place too fast, all at once. “Holy shit,” he breathed.

“Haha whatever. Move,” you said, trying to brush it off, pushing lightly at his shoulder to get past him.

“I love you.”

You froze. For a second, it didn’t even register properly. It just hung there, wrong and right at the same time. You scoffed, defensive, shaking your head. “Don’t spit in coffee and give it to me.”

Larry let out a short, almost disbelieving laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I think you got it wrong. I think I love you.”

“I don’t believe you,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips.

That only made him laugh again, softer this time. “You think I’d want just any girl in my bed?”

You raised a brow. “I’m sure you would.”

“Hey,” he grinned, a little crooked, a little nervous under it, “I may be a pervert, but I’m respectful.”

You didn’t answer that. Instead, you stepped closer. Close enough that he instinctively leaned back until his shoulders hit the door behind him. Trapped, not that he was trying to get away. Your hands pressed lightly against him as you leaned in, your voice dropping, suddenly unsure.

“Are you?” you whispered.

Too quiet. Too real. Larry’s breath caught. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

Your heart was pounding so hard it felt ridiculous. This wasn’t how it usually went. You were supposed to be the one in control.

“Kiss me then.” The second it left your mouth, your brain screamed at you. What are you doing? What are you saying?

Larry looked at you like you’d just flipped his entire world on its head. His face was red he knew it, could feel the heat crawling up his neck. Slowly, like he was giving himself time to back out if he needed to, his hands came to your waist.

“Jesus Christ…” he whispered.

But he didn’t stop. He leaned in. His brain was so scared he was making this all up. Fortunately for him he was not. then his lips met yours.

This was not like anything that he had done before, not like the teasing almost kisses you’d joked around with before. One hand tightening slightly at your waist, grounding himself in it. Deepening the kiss while holding you closer. For everything that he did for being a coward he tried his best to make it up between your lips. When he pulled back, it wasn’t far. Just enough to look at you, eyes a little unfocused, like he was still catching up to what just happened.

“…Still don’t believe me?” he murmured.

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling as you walk closer, the group’s attention shifting toward you. “Sorry, guys,” you say lightly, crossing your arms. “But I can’t help wanting to steal my boyfriend away from you all.”

A few of them exchange glances, Nathan lets out a quiet scoff, already pushing himself up from the steps. “Don’t apologize,” he says, brushing off his jacket. “These losers were pissing me off anyway.”

There's irritation in his voice, but it fades the second he looks at you. He slips his arm around your shoulders like it’s second nature, pulling you in just a little closer than necessary. Without another word, the two of you start walking away from the group, leaving behind the low hum of conversation and judgmental stares.

Behind you, Victoria lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she watches you go. “I like her,” she says, amused. “She’s the only one who can actually handle him.” Another pause, then a smirk. “She walks him like a dog.”

You and Nathan had been tangled in each other’s lives for as long as you could remember. Back then, he couldn’t stand you. Not that you blamed him. You’d seen something you weren’t supposed to his father tearing into him, words sharp enough to leave marks without ever touching him.

You inserted yourself into his space. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why. You pitied him. Nathan Prescott hated being pitied more than anything. But unlike everyone else, you didn’t disappear after that moment. You didn’t whisper behind his back or avoid him in the halls. You stayed annoyingly consistent, stubbornly present. A constant thorn in his side. Somewhere along the way, the insults turned into conversations. The arguments turned into something almost playful. And before either of you really noticed, you had become… this. Now, you wouldn’t take it back. Not for anything. If pity was what started it, it definitely wasn’t what kept you here.

“So,” you start, glancing over at him, “I was thinking maybe we could hang out in your room for a bit.”

Nathan’s lips curve instantly, that familiar teasing edge slipping into his expression. “Oh?” he hums, stepping closer. “Didn’t realize my girl was a full on perv.”

He slides a hand to your waist, turning you toward him like it’s second nature.

You roll your eyes, though there’s a hint of warmth behind it, placing your hands against his chest to steady yourself. “Shove off. I just want some quiet time.”

That’s all it takes for his expression to shift. The teasing drops, replaced by concern.

“Hey… are you okay?” he asks quickly, his grip tightening just slightly, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “Did something happen?”

You blink, caught off guard, then let out a small huff. “Whoa. I just want to spend some time with you.”

He studies your face for a second longer than necessary. “You sure?”

You reach for his hand before he can spiral any further, lacing your fingers together and giving him a small tug. “Shut up, Prescott.”

A faint smile tugs at your lips.

“C’mon. Let’s go.”

Lying in his bed, you curl closer to Nathan, your arms tightening around him just a little more than usual. He notices immediately. “Hey,” he mutters, shifting slightly so he can look at you, his brows pulling together. “Seriously… are you okay?”

You tuck your face closer into him, voice quieter. “I’m really fine.”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just watches you, like he’s trying to pick apart something you’re not saying. “Hm. Fine,” he echoes, unconvinced, a small frown settling in. Then, after a beat  “You know, I thought you were a total cunt when we first met.”

You pull back just enough to look at him, unimpressed. “Wow. That’s really nice, Nathan. Thank you.”

You start to shift away, but before you can, his arms tighten around you, pulling you right back against him.

“But,” he adds quickly, softer now, “I like that about you.”

You squint at him. “You’re still calling me a cunt.”

“I’m making a point,” he huffs. “Jesus, chill for a second.”

That earns a small smile from you, despite yourself. His expression changes again, less defensive now, more… honest. It’s rare, and you can feel it in the way his grip steadies instead of tightens.

“If it weren’t for you…” he starts, voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it, “I think my life would’ve gone somewhere a lot worse.”

You don’t interrupt.

“I mean it,” he continues, eyes locked on yours. “So if you’re ever feeling like shit, or… anything  I want to be that for you. What you are for me.”

Your chest tightens, and before you can stop it, your eyes start to sting. You blink quickly, a small laugh breaking through as you look at him. “I’m really fine,” you say, softer now. “But that?”

You shake your head a little, smiling through it. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said. Now stop being a sap,” you add, nudging him lightly, “and go back to being a loser.”

By the time you had come undone for the many times he kept you, the edges of your thoughts had begun to blur. Your mind drifted somewhere, as you wondered again why you were here. Why you kept ending up beneath him like this. It had always felt like that with Abel: hazy, dreamlike, as though something about being under his touch clouded your better judgment.

When he finally pulled his fingers from you, the sudden absence left a hollow ache that made your breath hitch. Abel paused, looking down at you with a gaze so soft it almost hurt to meet it. His eyes pooled with something dangerously close to devotion. So lovesick and reverent, the kind of look someone might give a miracle they never expected to witness.

that was the cruelest part. You had fallen in love with the blonde what felt like an eternity ago. Unfortunately, you never knew where you stood with him. Nights like this made it impossible to think clearly. On nights like this he touched you as though you were something sacred like a fallen divinity he had been tasked with worshipping, guiding your body toward some quiet, private version of salvation. He would whisper praise against your skin, take his time like every inch of you was something worth studying.

Then there were the other days.

The days when the only glimpse you had of him was in passing walking down the corridor while you worked with Sera, his shoulder brushing by without even a pause. Sometimes a whole week would pass after nights like this before he looked at you again.

The contradiction left your head spinning.

Your body was overwhelmed in more ways than one. You were already sensitive, nerves buzzing and trembling from everything he had done to you so far, when his fingers slipped back inside you without warning. The motion made your hips jolt against the sheets as a quiet sound escaped your throat.

His other hand moved lazily over your chest, thumb brushing across your nipple in slow, absent circles. The light pressure only made the ache worse. They had been neglected for hours now. your whole body kept balanced in this careful, teasing torment.

Abel had stripped you down earlier praising you softly as his hands explored your skin. For hours he had done little more than that: tracing the curve of your waist, dragging his fingertips over your stomach, barely giving you more than the ghost of friction. When he did slide his fingers inside you, it was brief just enough to make your body react before he withdrew again.

The restraint had been agonizing.

Now, hovering above you, the blonde let out a low, strained groan. His eyes never left yours, watching every flicker of your expression the flushed heat in your face, the desperate way your lips parted whenever he moved.

You knew he could see it. How wrecked you were for him.

“Oh ” His voice softened into something almost breathless. “You are so beautiful tonight,” he murmured, the words slipping from him like a quiet confession.

“When are you not, though?” he laughed softly, watching you like he had all the time in the world. His voice dipped quieter after, almost thoughtful. “I’ve missed you.”

That had you flushing for reasons that had nothing to do with the heat still buzzing through your body. It shouldn’t have surprised you. Abel was always like this careless with words that landed too close to your heart. Like they didn’t make your chest tighten.

So stupid. So unfairly nice to you.

“Stop being a dick,” you breathed, the words coming out weaker than you intended.

Because really, all you wanted was for him to touch you.

If he wasn’t going to give you anything solid to hold onto outside of these nights then the least he could do was stop teasing you and actually finish what he started. It would only be fair, you reasoned bitterly. The decent thing to do.

At that, he gave you an exaggerated pout.

Abel shifted his weight, one arm bracing beside your head as he leaned closer, closing the space between you. The difference between the two of you felt almost ridiculous: him still fully clothed, sleeves pushed back, hair falling into his eyes while you lay beneath him bare and completely exposed.

“I’ve missed you,” he repeated.

This time the words were quieter.

He pulled his hand from between your legs, and the loss made your body twitch in protest. Slowly he dragged his palm up along your stomach instead, fingers tracing the sensitive path he had memorized hours ago. Every inch he passed left your nerves sparking.

By the time his hand reached your throat, you were already trembling.

His fingers curled gently around the back of your neck, holding you there as he looked down at you. The touch wasn’t tight. Possessive in a way that made your pulse race.

The whole movement left your body throbbing with a mixture of frustration and something softer you tried not to name.

Looking into his eyes made you feel far too exposed.

You tried to deal with that the only way you could think of reaching up and grabbing a fistful of his hair with both hands. The strands were soft between your fingers, and the slight pull made him suck in a breath.

“You think that I didn’t?” you murmured.

For a moment, something in his expression shifted.

Then Abel ducked his head.

His lips brushed against your collarbone first slow, lingering kisses that made your skin prickle. He followed the line upward, pressing soft touches along the side of your neck, warm breath ghosting over your skin between each one.

Your grip on his hair tightened without thinking.

He hummed quietly at the reaction before reaching for one of your hands. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, guiding it down between your bodies again.

Gently, deliberately, he placed your fingers where you were still aching for attention.

“Then don’t pretend you don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured against your neck, guiding your hand with his. His voice had softened again, rougher now. “Go on.”

“What the fuck is going on with him right now?” you think, the question circling uselessly in your head.

You hesitate, ready to protest, but when you look up at him you catch the look in his eyes. There’s a strange determination there focused, almost reverent that throws you off completely.

A small pout slips onto your lips despite yourself.

“Such a dick,” you mumble.

Still, you move your hand like he guided you, fingers beginning to trace slow circles. Your breath stutters as sensation builds again, your body already too sensitive for this game.

You glance down for a second then look back up.

Abel is watching you with the most unbearably smug expression you’ve ever seen.

Fuck him. Fuck his stupid face. Fuck his stupid perfectness. And fuck his mouth. And, God why couldn’t he just fuck you already?

The thought only winds you tighter.

Your fingers move faster despite the irritation bubbling under your skin. Every motion sends sparks up your spine, your body reacting instantly after everything he’d already done to you tonight. You can feel yourself getting closer, breath turning shallow, hips shifting against the sheets without meaning to.

And he’s just

Watching.

Why was he only watching?

Why was he always like this with you gentle, teasing, careful?

Why had he never once been rough?

The tension coils tighter and tighter until you can feel the edge approaching, that familiar tipping point right at the brink

And then suddenly his hand closes around your wrist.

Stopping you.

“Abel! What the fuck?”

Your voice cracks with pure frustration.

He winces immediately, looking almost embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “It’s just… I’m so proud to see how good you do without me.”

The bashful tone is so absurd it makes your brain stall.

Before you can even process the words, he lifts your hand, bringing it to his lips. He presses a kiss to your fingertips slow, warm and then, without breaking eye contact, slips them into his mouth.

Your stomach flips.

“Everything about you is so cute,” he murmurs after a moment, voice light again. “You are so perfect.”

He lets out a quiet little giggle, like the thought genuinely delights him.

At this point, hours of this strange back and forth have left you completely lost.

You stare at him, trying to figure out what the hell he’s talking about.

“Out of everyone up here,” he continues softly, eyes drifting closed for a second as his hand moves lazily along your side, “out of every creation made for man… you were made with no fault.”

You blink at him.

What kind of sappy bullshit is happening right now?

“How can I ever be enough?” he laughs quietly, almost to himself, fingers still absentmindedly caressing your body.

“Abel,” you say gently.

You reach up, touching his chin and guiding his face down just enough to press a soft kiss to his mouth.

The reaction is immediate.

His whole body goes tense.

Then something in him snaps.

Suddenly he’s pulling you against him, arms wrapping around you so tightly it almost knocks the breath from your lungs. The careful distance he’d kept all night disappears as he presses your body flush to his.

His kisses come rougher now urgent, scattered along your throat and collarbone. He drags his mouth down your chest, leaving warm marks in his wake, like he’s trying to claim every inch of skin he can reach before the moment disappears.

Your hands tangle in his hair again as he moves lower.

Until finally his head dips between your legs, his breath warm against the inside of your thigh desperate in a way that makes your heart race.

he can’t hold himself back anymore. Abel let out a low, helpless sound the moment he finally tasted you. The moan vibrated against your skin, sending a sharp wave of sensation through your body.

“You were made for me,” he breathed, the words slipping out like they had been waiting there for a long time.

Your head tipped back against the sheets. You had never felt anything like this before. Every movement of his mouth was deliberate, hungry in a way that felt almost reverent. He didn’t rush, but he didn’t hold back either. His hands tightened around your thighs, pushing them open wider as if he needed to see you, needed you exposed beneath him.

“Look at you,” Abel murmured between breaths. “You’re already shaking.”

God, she’s beautiful, he thought, almost dizzy with it. How is she even real?

He couldn’t stop. His grip tightened slightly, fingers pressing into the soft skin of your legs while he kept going, like he had no intention of letting you escape this time. Every few seconds another quiet praise slipped from him, spoken into your skin.

“So pretty.”

“Can you feel how much I missed you?”

“You’re doing so good.”

Your hands twisted helplessly in the sheets. The overwhelming sensation had your chest tightening, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes before you even realized they were there. You were crying because it felt too good.

Abel noticed immediately.

He pulled back just long enough to glance up at you, breath uneven, lips slightly parted.

“Hey,” he said softly, brushing his thumb along your thigh. “Are those tears ”

Your only response was a shaky breath and a weak nod. A slow smile spread across his face. “Good,” he murmured, almost fondly. “I was worried I wasn’t trying hard enough.”

Then he dipped his head back down. Your whole body jolted. “Abel ” you gasped, your voice barely holding together.

He hummed in response, the vibration sending another sharp rush through you.

She says my name like that every time, he thought, a little dazed. How am I supposed to survive that?

His hands kept your legs steady as your body started trembling harder. You were so close now that everything felt fragile, like a single breath might push you over the edge.

Abel could see it. Your shaking, the way your hips shifted without control, the small desperate sounds leaving your throat.

“There it is,” he whispered softly. “Don’t hold back now.”

The pressure finally snapped.

Your whole body went rigid as the sensation crashed through you, vision flashing white as the release tore through your nerves. A broken sound escaped your throat while your hands tightened helplessly around his hair.

You could barely think.

Your body was still shaking when the wave finally started to fade.

In the quiet that followed, Abel slowly lifted his head again. He looked… ridiculously pleased with himself.

A stupid, satisfied smile spread across his face as he looked between your trembling body and the flushed expression on your face.

Wow, he thought, staring a little too long. She’s even prettier like this.

“You did amazing,” he said proudly, like you had just accomplished something impressive.

His thumb brushed lightly along your thigh again as he looked down at you.