love them? maybe I did, darl.

Albedo

He is the kind of guy that has called you ‘dear’ from the beginning of your relationship. He doesn’t really use a lot of pet-names, preferring to call you by your name. But the difference is very obvious in his tone when he calls out to you, compared to the others. 

His voice becomes softer, more tender, the smallest of smiles tugging at his lips regardless of the situation.

When he feels a little flirtier than usual, he might call you ‘my dearest’, his face close to yours as he breathes the words out, flustering you. 

“I’m a little busy, but I’ll be with you soon,” He says, eyes focused on the task, before breaking his attention to look at you for a second, eyes softening as he says your name in that silky tone of his. 

“Dear, could you pass me that book?” He has no qualms about using that endearment, even with a crowd listening. He could have been in the middle of a discussion with the knights, the air filled with tension about their upcoming task, but it all breaks when he calls out to you. Even the most uptight of knights feel themselves relaxing at how gentle he seems when addressing you, suddenly feeling like with you around, Albedo could accomplish anything, no matter how difficult it might be. 

“Sorry to have kept you waiting, my dearest.” He says, falling into your arms the second you’re both home and alone, letting out a deep sigh. You rub circles into his back and he lazily kisses the underside of your face. “But it’s just us now, and you have my full attention. Let me know if there’s anything in particular you would like to do.” His tired eyes look up at you with adoration, like being home with you was enough to slowly rejuvenate him for the next day.

You sit on the bench behind Albedo as he works in Dragonspine. A notebook rests on your lap, a pen in one of your hands while the other picks up and stirs a flask, watching the sediments mix to give a cloudy, purple shade, before settling back into its original, neutral state. “Not very soluble, is it?” You ponder, twirling the flask again only for the process to repeat. “I purposefully chose a poor solvent. And the low temperature of Dragonspine doesn’t help its case. Although, the way it temporarily mixes is an interesting feature.” “Master Albedo, I think the concoction is ready.” Sucrose calls out, taking a step away from the crafting bench she was working on to let you and Albedo see her latest results. “Was it more successful this time?” “More than the last, yes, but the results still aren’t quite what I desired.” “You can have them note down this round’s measurements, procedures and observations.” Albedo tilts his head in your direction, before turning to look at you as he continues with a softer tone, “Could you help Sucrose with that, dear?” “Yes, of course.” You mumble and move to Sucrose’s side quickly, before you lose yourself in your lover’s alluring eyes. Sucrose gives you a knowing, teasing smile and you return it with a playful frown as you take her side. Behind you, you hear Albedo let out an airy huff as he returns to his own experiment. “We’re almost done for the day. Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time to ourselves later, my dearest~” “And I’ll gladly leave you two alone.” Sucrose nudges you with her elbow. “Please don’t. I don’t want to baby him alone with how he can be picky with his food at times.” “Your boyfriend, your responsibility.” That makes the three of you laugh, embracing the warm, brief respite at the cold laboratory.

Childe

He can be very… unpredictable. He has tried calling you all sorts of names, testing each one to see your reaction. When he sees one having a particular affect on you, he notes it mentally, using it a couple of times before stopping for a while. Just when you think he won’t be calling you that particular name again, he pops up beside your ear, whispering it teasingly, catching you off-guard.

You don’t have to tell him what you want to be called, he doesn’t ask either. He makes his best guess by looking at your current mood and appearance, often getting your gender cravings right. When he can’t tell by simply looking at you, he sticks to the more gender-neutral ones, opting to call you “babe” or “baby”. 

And if he gets it wrong, he immediately, yet seamlessly, switches, peppering you with kisses to make up for his mistake (though you wouldn’t blame him for that, and he knows you wouldn't, but he still prefers ensuring that he isn’t making you uncomfortable in the slightest). 

“My pretty little princess~” He teases you when he returns from a mission, making your breath hitch for a second. “Your knight is home!” You cringe at his words, elbowing him playfully, and he dramatically lets out an “ow” before tackling you into a hug.

“How is my sweet boy doing today?” He says when he finds you in more masculine clothes, cooking something, tone silky and mischievous. He hugs you from behind, leaving a light kiss on your neck and watching the food as you stir it.  “Ajax, it’s difficult to cook like this.” “But I want to stay close.” He pouts, but moves away, instead opting to bring out the plates and set the table. “I’ll be back, for two times more, no— ten times more, pretty boy~” 

Furina

Having been the lead star in a wide variety of shows, Furina has picked up on a few habits from the characters she has played, and that included using endearments like ‘darling’ and ‘sweetheart’.

She can’t always tell which endearment you would prefer. Having put on a compelling show herself for 500 years, she knows that your outside demeanor could hide inner desires. So she prefers sticking to standard, classy, gender neutral terms.

Although, more often than not, she likes to call herself yours more often than she calls you hers, her voice melodiously singing “your beloved is back”, hands outstretched and waiting for an embrace. She always puts an extra emphasis on ‘your’, reiterating that she’s proud to be with you.

“Your dearest decided to try baking a cake today. Hope you’ll like it.” Her confident tone hides the shy, almost meek adoration she holds for you. The texture and appearance could definitely do some work, but the first bite is enough to make you melt in the sweetness of it. You take another spoon and hold it towards Furina, inviting her to taste her own work, which she happily obliges.

You open the door to the backrooms to find your girlfriend leaning against the dressing table, as though ensuring that her eyelashes are still perfect, despite the show having ended. Your arrival catches her attention as she immediately beams, inviting you in. You take a seat on the chair and she comes to sit on your lap, snuggling against your chest.  “How did your girl do?” “My girl absolutely killed it on stage.” You press a tender kiss to her forehead. She giggles and you can feel the way her skin relaxes against yours. “Too bad we can’t stay like this for long. We have an after-show party starting in a bit. You’re coming with me, right?” “Can I come?” “Duh, being my biggest supporter and all, you’re always welcome. I’m sure the other crew members would be happy to see you again too, my love.” 

Chiori

Chiori doesn’t use endearments too often. She used to say ‘oh darl’ sarcastically before your relationship, clicking her tongue at the customers that believed they were oh-so-high-and-mighty to order her around.

So when you first started dating, she didn’t like the way it sounded on her tongue. Despite knowing that she was being genuine when she was referring to you, memories of her saying it ironically and the knowledge of her unlikeable personality made her feel like she was lying to you, to herself. 

It wasn’t until you told her that her tone when being genuine was remarkably different from when it was sarcastic, and that you had no trouble telling the difference between the two that she tried to open up more, expressing her love with less restraint. 

(you blushed at her pet names for you, and she felt flustered at how easily you could tell her apart, it’s a win-win, no?)

Another thing she likes calling you is ‘button’, but she ensures that you’re comfortable with the name before she gets used to the feeling of calling you that. If you don’t like it, she sticks with calling you by your name or ‘darl’. 

She might also want to call you ‘my lady’ or 'your grace' every once in a while, specifically when you try on the clothes she designs, helping you twirl to get a good look at how you look in her creations, the outfit outlining your features and looking dangerously distracting.

“My button really is cute as a button, huh?” She pinches your cheek and taps the bridge of your nose, before leaving the measuring tape in your hand and continuing her work. You stood stiffly in front of her in a half-made outfit, as she used you as her mannequin after running out of mannequins to anchor her fabrics up against. 

“Darl, could you pass me that needle box? Oh and the clips too, please. Thank you~” Her low voice calls out to you and you hum, putting away the fabrics you were folding to grab the items for her. Eloffe shuffles in her feet where she stands, not used to listening to the affectionate tone Chiori uses when talking to you and you can’t help but chuckle. Eloffe bows and mumbles, “I’ll be outside to assist any customers. Please call me when you need me.” and leaves.  You sigh, content at the privacy and make your way to your girlfriend, placing the items she requested for by her table before hugging her waist and kissing the back of her head. “Take a break when you can, yeah?” Chiori tilts her head at your touch, allowing your lips to meet for a brief kiss. “I will.”

“Uhh who even are you?” You ask for the fourth time since he sat in the chair opposite yours. 

You’ve gotten three different answers so far.

“Oh, just someone-something, you know?”

“Just a passerby who is very interested in what those two over there have going on.”

“Shh, just watch.”

And now, the fourth answer, “Just treat me like I’m an old friend. Don’t sweat it.”

Like the previous three times, he uses that same, silky tone, his head resting in his palms as he pretends to be looking at you, while his eyes keep darting to the couple that’s whispering loudly and frantically. 

Behind you, a lady dressed in black, with sunglasses and a weirdly fashioned hat keeps sighing every few seconds. She has a newspaper in her hand, but she hasn’t flipped the page since she sat there, so you’re almost certain that she hasn’t even tried reading the news for her to be sighing at that.

Why are there weirdos everywhere around you today… 

“Sir, the problem with that is that I don’t even know your name. I might have to call the police if you try anything funny.” 

“Oh is that the issue? That’s no problem at all! The name’s Ashveil and uh if you need the police, just let me know. I’ll be happy to assist or I could introduce you to someone that came here with me today.”

What?

You squint at him, as if that would help you identify whether he was being serious or not. Slumping back into your seat, you take a few more sips of the coffee you had ordered, not taking your eyes off the man in front of you.

“They are leaving.” He stands up abruptly. “Did they mention they were going to some place for uhm, couples?”

You take the last few sips of your coffee, watching his movements and glaring at him when he starts eyeing you. 

“You look very ordinary.” 

“Excuse me?”

“It’s perfect. Come on, you’re going to be my partner.” 

“Huh?” You don’t bother trying to hide the disdain in your voice as he grabs your wrist and starts running towards the door. You get a few odd looks from the people around you, but no one bothers too much.

And though you are trying to resist, it’s evident that you aren’t actually serious about it. Maybe it’s curiosity — to find out more about this man and the couple he was following. Risky, sure, but what’s life without a little thrill? This ‘Ashveil’ doesn’t seem to be a bad person, in any case.

“Why are you stalking them?”

“I’m not stalking them, I’m trailing them.”

“Those two terms are similar enough.”

“Are not! ‘Stalking’ makes me sound like some creep, while ‘trailing’ makes it clear that I’m undercover.”

“‘Undercover’?”

“I’m a detective and I’m on a case. Do you truly not recognise me? At all?”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Ashveil. I have, thankfully, never required a detective’s assistance.”

“Looks like you’ll be assisting a detective instead. Fate’s funny, isn’t it?”

“Who said I was going to ‘assist’ you with anything?”

“You just need to stand beside me. You can zone-out and daydream or whatever if you wish to. Don’t worry, I won’t let anything hurt you. Oh, or would you like remuneration to convince you?”

“No need. All I need to do is stand, right? I get to watch a detective solve a case in real life. That’s an exciting offer, much like being in a comic.” 

“Yeahh,” he drags the word out, “you might realise that it’s not as exciting as fiction stories make it appear.”

Ashveil mutters to himself along the way, but it’s difficult to make out what he’s saying. All you understand is something about him wanting to sleep again as soon as possible. And something about a refrigerator, for some reason.

He stops in front of a building. Music echoes from the inside, making the place seem lively even during work hours.

“A bar? Mr. Ashveil I’ll have you know that I have no intention of drinking—”

“Neither of us are drinking anything. Just stay close to me, and if someone tries bothering you, tell them you came here with your boyfriend.” 

“And who is this ‘boyfriend’ that I came here with?” 

“Me, for the time-being at least.”

Your eye twitches in response, attempting to not let your red ears be too obvious. The nerve this guy has.

As if on cue, a girl approaches the two of you, eyes sweetly scanning Ashveil. Judging from the school uniform she is wearing, she was probably skipping school to hang out here.

“Hey there, babes. I couldn’t help but notice that you were looking troubled by this person.” She puckers her lips and places a hand on her waist, angling to one side, trying to look more appealing perhaps.

“Don’t worry about us. We were just discussing which drink we should get first.” 

“If you want a drink, perhaps I could buy you one? Consider it a small ‘offering’ for a taste of something more?” You tense up in discomfort. Is this girl really skipping school just to flirt with guys at the bar? 

“No thanks. I think schoolgirls like you are better off diligently attending your classes than wasting your time here in the middle of the day.” The detective deadpans without hesitation.

“Is that what you are into? Ruining naive-looking nerds?”

“I’m definitely not into you, I can guarantee that.” Ashveil crosses his arms, huffing in annoyance. The girl clicks her tongue and leaves.

“She is clearly underage to be here, especially alone. Shouldn’t we alert someone?” You ask, watching the girl’s back disappear into the crowd.

“Miss Kuchiba has been keeping an eye. She’ll probably take over that part.”

‘Kuchiba’...? That name sounds familiar.

Before you have the time to properly recall where you have heard that name, Ashveil drags you deeper into the bar and towards a door for staff members. He nods at the person standing guard at the door, and the person nods back.

“As per the orders we received, we lured them in here. There’s three of them — a man who came first and then a couple who followed a few minutes later. We couldn’t check if they had weapons though, so be careful.”

“Thank you. Miss Kuchiba is here as well. If there’s any trouble, she can contact me directly.”

As the door closes behind you, the music from the bar fades into the background. The corridors are dark and murky, unlike the lively atmosphere outside. It makes you wonder if the renowned Fool’s Tavern also has a dark side, like this bar?

“Kuchiba really knows how to get the right people on the job, eh? I didn’t expect that she’d find such capable helpers for this case. That includes me, of course.” 

You want to ask who Miss Kuchiba is and why her name was so familiar to you, when a sharp, clattering sound erupts at the end of the corridor.

“That child you brought me last time couldn’t understand a thing.” A gruff, male voice roars. “How do you think our clients would like that? Huh?! HUH?!” Another clattering sound follows, like a ceramic piece or a wine bottle being thrown onto the ground. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Stay calm, breathe. You don’t have to say anything, okay?” Ashveil tries to soothe you. He’s standing taller than earlier, his insouciant persona from moments ago fading into seriousness. “Just don’t let them see that you are scared. I’ll handle the rest.”

You try your best to stand straight and keep your chin up, silently following behind him with the most neutral expression you can muster. Ashveil takes the lead, his body gestures are still pretty airy, not giving away his seriousness and attentiveness to the situation.

“We were told some really nice people were taking care of our kids. Am I finally having the honour to meet these ‘caretakers’?” He says, sounding almost genuine if not for the sarcasm oozing behind each word, each syllable. 

You follow Ashveil as he enters the room. There’s a shattered bottle of wine on the floor, and the couple from the cafe are kneeling down, the woman clutching her feet as the man leans over her protectively. Blood pools on the ground, seeping through her palms, and purpling wounds are evident on the man’s skin. It sends another shiver down your spine.

A man stands in the centre of the room, face flushed with anger and alcohol and fists clenched and raised.

“And who are you?”

“Just someone here to retrieve a few children. They’ve been out wayyy past dinner time, and their parents are worried sick.”

“Is that so? And is that person with you here to join you on your righteous mission?” The brash man spat, his patience clearly reaching the end of its limits.

“That, and to be a witness that will make it even easier to apprehend you.”

“Kid, you’re still a rookie, ain’tcha? Telling me your motives without me even pressing. Let me teach ya a little something, not like you’ll be able to apply it because you’ll be dead after this.”

“You’re welcome to try, if you’d like. I doubt that a person who can’t even take care of kids would be able to ‘take care’ of me.”

Your legs shake, but you don’t dare run. 

You have seen the news. The missing children. The grieving families. The fearful parents.

You realise the weight of the situation, and you sincerely hope that Detective Ashveil completes this task successfully, for the sake of the children. It helps you strengthen your resolve to see this through, even if it’s terrifying to be in this situation. How do law enforcers even handle this tension?

“You…” the woman on the ground spoke, her voice strained, “You saw us at that cafe, didn’t you? You were eavesdropping, weren’t you?”

“No I didn’t—” You try to protest, because truthfully, you were trying to ignore them and go about your day until you got dragged here by Ashveil, but the lady wasn’t going to listen.

“I saw you, you were staring at us. Those useless fools couldn’t stop you from following us here, huh?”

You don’t even know what to say. Your lips quiver as the lady’s gaze pierces through you, until broad shoulders block your vision. 

“I am the one doing the talking. If you have an issue, raise it with me.” Ashveil’s voice sounds even deeper than earlier, his tone laced with unsaid warnings.

“I’ve had enough of this circus.” The standing man growls, clearly intending to get aggressive. You take two steps back, standing close to the doorframe but not leaving the room, carefully following the man’s actions.

He picks up the broken leg of a chair, aiming straight for the detective’s head when the loud bang of a gunshot cuts through the heaving and panting of the people in the room, whizzing past the man’s ear and knocking him unconscious from shock and exertion. The couple leaning on the ground scurry into a corner, too shaken up to resist.

“Mr. Ashveil, please do not drag innocent civilians into such cases so casually. If anything dire had occurred, the consequences would have been far too severe.” A gentle, but authoritative voice speaks. At the entrance, a lady dressed in black and holding a gun puts a hand on her hip. It’s the same, eccentric woman from the cafe.

“Miss Kuchiba, you are finally here.” Ashveil breaths out a heavy sigh of relief, a light chuckle gracing his tone.  “Relax, I’m not too shabby in a fight. I wasn’t going to let them get hurt.”

You glance over her until you spot her badge. So that’s why her name was familiar. She’s an Officer from the Department of Aberration Defense, and is said to be one of the most capable of their members. 

“Physical well-being is not the only thing that you need to be concerned about in these cases, Detective.” 

“Oh right, right. I was so focused on catching the criminals in the act that I forgot about that part.” He says it so casually, you’re almost certain that it’s a lie. From just this experience alone, you could tell that he knows and thinks a lot more than he lets on.

“It’s rather unlike you to make such mistakes.” Kuchiba also seems to share your opinion.

“Ehh just couldn’t stop thinking of an old friend who wouldn’t allow kids to be mistreated this way.” He takes his hat off, holding it against his chest, a sad smile of reminiscence playing on his lips. 

“Was that the reason you were so willing to take up this task?”

“The detective pretends to think, as if he wasn't already sure of the answer,” a monkey pops up beside the window, “the main reason was that he was desperate for the pay.”

“Mr. N!! What awful timing. Couldn't you have saved me some face?”

The monkey ignores the detective’s comment and instead assumes a more serious demeanor as it says, “The people who were following you have been dealt with. I led them into a corner and had Miss Kuchiba’s people take care of them.”

“People who were following you?...” Kuchiba questions, eyeing Ashveil. 

“Yes, after I sat down in front of them in the cafe, I noticed a few shady people who wouldn’t stop staring at us. They probably noticed me trailing the couple. And to answer your question about me dragging an ‘innocent civilian’...”

Ashveil looks at you, apologetic, “I feared that by sitting with you at the cafe, I had put you at risk of being attacked if I left you alone. So I brought you along and asked you to put up an act with me so I could personally ensure your safety.”

“I probably was going to alert the local authorities about them,” you admit in a small voice, “they did seem suspicious to me but I never would have expected it to be this serious. Had you not been there, I… I don’t know how it would have gone.”

Ashveil opens his arms, inviting you and you abide, feeling your nerves relax as he gently rubs circles on your arm.

“You are being surprisingly too nice, Ashveil.” Mister N states.

“Not the time, Mr. N.”

“I’ll take my leave for now, there’s still work to be wrapped up.” Kuchiba interrupted, “Detective Ashveil, please ensure they get home safely.”

“I will.”

Kuchiba calls in her team, who help take the criminals away. Ashveil, followed by Mister N, leads you out of the bar. He takes in a deep breath as soon as he is out in the open, relishing another case closed successfully.

You have also completely calmed down now, the adrenaline from earlier wearing off. With the earlier fear gone, you can’t help but feel curious about the detective, wanting to learn more about his work.

You want to hear his stories, want to understand how he works, want to feel that gentle warmth of his that brought you comfort multiple times during today’s endeavour one more time (or maybe a couple more times). 

You want to learn just a little more about him.

So you ask, “What’s next for you?”

“I would like to make it up to you. What would you like in return for today’s, uhm, little ‘adventure’? A cup of coffee that you can enjoy without any interruptions this time?” 

“Would you join me?”

“Only if you want me to.”

When he is saying that so sweetly, how could you possibly decline?

Albedo

You creak open the door to Albedo's office, watching his back as he moves around the room with measured steps.

Despite having returned from Dragonspine for a few days, your lover seemed as busy as ever, practically being glued to his office in the knight's headquarters.

Thankfully, you were able to put Klee to sleep. The little elf had insisted on wanting to stay awake and wait for her brother, but a few bedtime stories were all it took to have her fall asleep in your lap. After tucking her in, you had decided to visit Albedo to check in on him, hoping to be able to take him with you to slumber.

But seeing how invested he looked in whatever he was currently doing, you debated against it.

The door closes with a soft creak. You lean against the wall next to the door and sigh, unsure of how to approach the alchemist and convince him to take a break.

At this point, this has to be called over-working, you worry.

You slowly slide yourself to rest on the ground, head propped against the wall as drowsiness starts clouding your eyes. 

You could try waiting for him. You want to wait for him. 

Surely you won’t fall asleep here, right?

You trace the carvings on the wall with your eyes and listen carefully for the soft footsteps of the knights on night duty. The serene atmosphere of the Favonius Headquarters at night only makes your drowsiness worse, like being in a comfortable cot, being lulled to sleep.

Despite how quiet your actions have been, Albedo hears them loud and clear. He heard the soft creak of the door, and he hears the soft thud of you landing on the ground. A frown makes its way onto his face, curious about what you are doing here so late at night.

He wraps his work up as quickly as he can, settling the books on the side of his table and aligning and tucking the papers under weights.

When he steps outside, he finds you with your back against the wall, sound asleep.

Both fondness and guilt crash over him at once, as he realises that you were waiting for him. He kneels down, a hand over his knee and the other caressing your face.

He uses his index to press your cheek, but you don't even stir. He sighs, realising that he would have to carry you back. He has never been the strongest person, always needing an extra hand to carry his boxes around, but Albedo is always willing to make an extra effort for you.

So he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then hooks his arms under your body, lifting you up and letting your head rest against his chest.

He smiles fondly at the sight of you in his arms, and then starts heading out and towards your home, determined to wake up in your arms the next morning.

Chiori

You neatly fold the fabrics and pat out the dresses on the mannequins. It’s almost completely dark and quiet outside now, with only the street-lamps illuminating Fontaine’s streets.

Chiori still seems busy working on a dress, and from the looks of it, she won’t be taking a break any time soon.

“Chio…”

“I know what you’re going to say. And yes, I will come sleep. Just after finishing a few more bits. I want to finish this dress by tomorrow afternoon, so that I can make any adjustments and have it ready for the event by the day after.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard, alright? Let me know if I can help in any way.”

She hums, eyes still fixated on the dress she is working on. 

A few minutes turn into multiple. You keep going back and forth between the boutique’s main area and the backrooms, watching your lover engrossed in her work.

With how resolute she looks about finishing the dress tonight, rather than by tomorrow as she earlier mentioned, you doubt that she’s getting any sleep, let alone going back home to rest.

For nights like these, Chiori had already prepared a make-shift bed to sleep in, just so it would be more convenient for her to immediately get back to work in the morning. From what you understand, she often spent her nights in the boutique before you got both together. Having you waiting for her is what helped her control her workaholic nature and return home for respite.

How she maintained her health with the way she over-works herself is beyond you.

The least you could do is support her — by bringing her coffee the way she likes it or by checking in on her and by reaffirming her when she needs it.

 And perhaps by adding a few more layers of clothes to make her make-shift bed more comfortable. Instead of heading home alone, you decide you stay with her in the boutique, even if it means spending the entire night there. 

Chiori reaches out to the bottle of water on her side desk, expecting it to be half-empty only to find it completely filled. That’s what finally breaks her focus, as she settles her needles down and turns the bottle around in her hand. Did you fill it for her…?

She looks out of the shop’s window and is met with the darkness of the night enveloping Fontaine. When did it get this late?

Chiori quickly puts away the needles and threads, leaving them in a spot comfortable enough for her to immediately pick her work up again in the morning. She heads to the door only to realise that it was locked from the inside. 

It could only mean one thing, she thinks to herself, that you haven’t left.

So she heads to the backrooms and finds you there, sleeping comfortably on the make-shift bed, with ample space left for her to fit into. It makes her eyes soften with adoration but chest tighten with the guilt of having ignored you because of work.

Quietly but swiftly, she undoes her hair, letting the intricately made braids fall loosely around her shoulders. Dimming the lights and changing into lighter clothing, she slips onto the mattress, trying not to wake you.

You stir in your sleep, partly aware of your lover’s presence, as you let her crawl into your arms and snuggle against your chest.

“Chio…” you mumble.

“I’m here.”

“Mmm…” 

You’re still here. Despite how her workaholic tendencies keep her away. Despite her often sharp-tongue due to her straight-forward nature. Despite the rumours her competitors try to spread to stir the market.

You are still here, and she couldn't be more grateful for that.

Dan Heng

The archives room is quiet, except for the soft buzz of the monitor and the clicking of the keyboard.

It feels colder tonight too. Normally, you would rely on Dan Heng's body heat to beat the cold, but with him still filing archives, all you can do is tug his hoodie closer and watch the back of his chair as he works.

Dan Heng might not be the warmest person you know (in terms of body heat, at least), but to you, his slightly cold skin mixed with his warm embrace is the heavenliest thing in the cosmos. 

"Are you done yet..."

"Sorry love, I'll be there soon."

"Mmm."

You don't really mind it. He prefers finishing his work before time, hating backlogs. And in turn, that helps him plan more of his time with you.

But sometimes, you really do wish that he would cut himself a little slack and indulge in more temporary pleasures (such as immediately cuddling with you to sleep, because your cravings are making tonight feel extra cold and you need him beside you pronto).

The sound of inconsistent sighs being replaced by steady breathing catches Dan Heng’s attention. “Love?” He looks in your direction to realise that you have fallen asleep, with your body still facing him.

He glances between the digital clock on his system and your limp body, realising that it’s been longer than he realised. 

Oh.

He quickly closes the system, not even bothering to arrange the files neatly as he slips in beside you. “You shouldn’t have let me get away with it…” He mutters, feeling guilty for having left you waiting.

“Mmm…Heng…” you mumble something in your sleep as you snuggle closer to him, subconsciously moving towards his neutral, but comforting scent. 

Dan Heng helps you get into a comfortable position, resting his hand on your waist and watching as you bury your head in his chest. You’re clingier when asleep and he adores that.

“Work can wait, but not these moments with you. I’ll try to be more careful next time. I’m sorry.” He’s sure that you couldn’t hear a word he was saying, that he was just talking to the air. But he still mentally notes to himself to keep a closer eye on the time and to not let you fall asleep waiting for him. 

And to apologise properly in the morning, probably by spending some quality time together. Maybe a date would be nice? It’s been a while since the two of you spent a tranquil day out together. 

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and rests his head in the crook of your neck. 

Work may be never-ending, but he can handle it — no, he will handle it. Anything, to ensure that he isn’t neglecting your needs, his needs. 

Anything, to ensure that he isn’t neglecting you.

Herta

You're not sure what caught her eye or suddenly piqued her interest this late at night. One moment, you were pulling the blanket over her as she got into bed with you, the next she was rushing towards her pile of blueprints as she quickly scribbled out whatever came to her mind.

You stare at her, confused and amused, a small smile playing at your lips. You push yourself back and rest against the bed's headboard, watching Herta get in the zone.

"Got new ideas?"

"Yes! You're a genius, my love. Well, of course you have to be at least a quarter as good as me since you're my partner. This just might give me my next big break in the development of the Divergent Universe. Haha Screwy better watch out, because I'm taking this one from him!" She quickly rattles out, her hand not stopping once as she pulls out two new pages and dips her quill in the ink bottle again.

You are not sure what you said for her to credit you like this, but this isn't the first time this has happened. You decide against asking her about it though, lest she ends up getting distracted and takes even longer to return to your shared bed.

"Do you want me to wait for you?"

"Your wish honestly, I'm not sure how long this will take but I promise you that I'll join you as soon as I'm done."

You hum, deciding to stay awake for as long as you can. You grab a book, opting to read it to keep you engaged while you wait.

By the time Herta has finished her work, you are fast asleep, with the book you were reading lying flat on your chest.

She stretches her arms and sighs contently at the sight, though with a small pang of guilt for having kept you waiting for so long.

Carefully, so as to not awake you, she plucks the book away from your chest and replaces it with her head, snuggling closer. "Sorry to keep you waiting, dear." She whispers, before letting slumber claim her for the night.

To others, she seems apathetic and self-centred. And that isn't entirely wrong but when it comes to you? There's a side to her that she wouldn't dare show anyone else. Not because she's ashamed of it, but because she thinks that you are the only one who deserves to know her more domestic sides. <3