嘉敏  (18+)

What did he expect? Of course it was Trappola up to his shenanigans. Sebek had also tried to leave the group chat many times before, but Ace was so adamant on keeping him there that he decided that putting the group on mute was a better use of his time than trying to push the point. Just as Sebek was about to put his phone away and head to the library, another grating ping came from the group chat.

SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): [image attached] EPEL FELMIER took a screenshot. DEUCE SPADE  took a screenshot. SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): AHAHHAHA desperate weirdos TOXIC 🤢🤢 (EPEL FELMIER): shut the hell up u took those SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): actually 🤓 i got them from cater. saw him slacking off painting the roses so i got him to give me some pics of his playdate with [y. name]. he was pretty mad about it tho lololol class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): i dont think bargaining with cater is a good idea… SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): wtvr… SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): cmon cmon @/Jack Howl @/racist …. i know you want a screenshot.. cmon…

The image attached was a picture of the prefect, tears welling up in their eyes as they nurse a bruise on their cheek. It was clear that they were forced to hold up a peace sign by whoever was behind the camera, their oversized sleeping shirt dipping from their shoulder to expose their clavicle and the sliiighest hint of their chest. It was not a picture that Sebek was interested in, and he was sure that Jack Howl shared the same sentiments.

What was it with these humans and their overly sadistic tendencies? Trappola had made it their favorite hobby to torment the prefect both physically and mentally, Felmier liked to switch from sugary-sweet to downright devilish just to knock their guard down, and even Spade who tried to his best to become the prefect’s protector couldn’t hide his glee when they were vulnerable and in need of someone stronger. Howl, for all his beating around the bush, did not goof around when it came to the prefect’s safety. Sebek shook his head. Humans were truly the worst.

TOXIC 🤢🤢 (EPEL FELMIER): at LEAST i didnt get my ASS BEAT BY MY HOUSEWARDEN SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): fym you didnt get ur ass beat?!?! I KNOW HOUSEWARDEN VIL HAD SOMETHING FOR YOU. U DIDNT BRING [Y. NAME] WITH PERMISSION TOXIC 🤢🤢 (EPEL FELMIER): and what YOU DID? class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): he actually did believe it or not class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): he went through all the rules and procidures so that housewarden riddle wouldn’t have any place to say no racist (SEBEK ZIGVOLT): *PROCEDURES SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): *procedures JACK HOWL: *procedures TOXIC 🤢🤢 (EPEL FELMIER): *procedures class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): I FUCKING GET IT OK SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): *okay

Just as the entire group chat begins to blow up about how Sebek is online, he shoves the phone into his pocket and finally looks up— just in time to bump into the person who has been occupying his thoughts as of late.

“Ffngah! Henchman, are you okay?!” Sebek’s sturdy chest has you sprawled on the floor and your familiar is fussing over you as you try to get your bearings. The contents of your messenger back has been spilled, and Sebek lets out a frustrated long sigh before he bends down and picks them up.

“Human,” he starts, same scowl on his face as always. “It is absolutely irresponsible of you to inconvenience people like this in the hallway! You best look where you’re going!” He picks up the papers— for history you held high marks, but another paper with your magical alchemy after-report depicts an embarrassingly low grade. Disgraceful.

Grim leaps on his four feet, hissing at Sebek. “Whaddya mean ‘look where you’re going’?! My henchman’s been calling out to you since awhile ago before you decided to bump into them! This is all your fault, you stupid pompadour!” Sebek’s eyes widen at the insult of his very carefully maintained hairstyle and opens his mouth to yell at the inspid cat, but your visibly tired face catches his mind and he composes himself. He’s no stranger to the absurd rumors around you— he’s even in a group chat of the perpetrators— and he decides to grant you some mercy. You are already overwhelmed as it is, and while that is no excuse to slack off on your responsibilities, even Sebek has to admit that your situation is far from ideal.

He forcibly pulls you up by the wrist with no grace whatsoever, but his hands are gentle when he smoothens out your hair and fixes your uniform. “You are a disgrace to look at, [Y. Name],” he bluntly states, stepping back to assess you. “I have heard that you stayed at a time in Pomefiore. Why is the condition of your skin severely lacking?”

“That’s because I’m staying in Ignihyde now,” you say, picking up Grim and giving Sebek a grateful smile. “Can’t sleep. Not with all that clicking and clacking and—” You visibly pale before shaking your head and feeling the lobe of your ear for something. “Sorry. Shall we go the cafeteria together?”

Unlike the others, Sebek has always noted how you don’t feel offput by his overbearing demeanor. Ever since the events of his young lord’s overblot, he has built a… rapport with the other first years. Nevertheless, they liked to complain of his tendencies. Absurd! When clearly he was the only one among them who knew how to hold himself in a dignified manner! At least you had the decency to heed his words. You smile thoughtfully when he tells you to straighten yourself, you listen attentively when he teaches you even with all his smug remarks, and when he tells you to go behind him, you do without a single peep. He would think that you enjoyed being nagged. But since you had the nerve to hang around his young lord, then you should at least have the humility to listen to his retainer!

Walking side-by-side with you, he feels his role of a protector more than ever. Even though he is one of the knights of Briar Valley’s next prince, he is keenly aware that his young lord’s power exceeds his own. You, however, lost and afraid and an alien… you could not even lift a finger against him if you tried. He thinks back to the picture sent by Ace in the group chat and shakes his head. The pathetic human is already pathetic. Why drive them further into their own misery?

“You should stay away from the others for a while,” he says, sounding more than a demand rather than a suggestion. “I am sure you are no fool, [Y. Name]. None of the other dorms act in your best interests. Until Ramshackle is restored, it is best you stay over in Diasomnia for your own sake.” You seem to eye him warily, but you soon shake whatever thoughts are forming in your head. “Master Lilia has voiced his thoughts last night over… ergh, dinner.” He had to brush his teeth for half an hour to get the taste out. “Young Lord and Silver are of the same sentiment.” He thumps his chest with his fist proudly, a smug look crossing his features. “Diasomnia will provide you with more hospitality than those other fools. After all, we conduct ourselves with actual dignity.”

This unfriendly sentiment earns looks of ire from the other dorm students as his voice booms down the hall.

“What’s that about dignity, Sebek?” From behind you, Ace clicks his tongue in annoyance. He’s glaring at the fae with hands on his hips, followed by the rest of the first-years.

“Yeah,” Deuce nods, cracking his knuckles with a dangerous look on his face. “You’re speaking real loud for a guy who’s about to go 1v4.”

“Hold on, I wasn’t agreeing to a fistfight, you fucking idiot.” Epel and Jack sighs, moving forward to leave behind the bickering fools as your group enters the cafeteria. “You got a lot to say about hospitality, huh?” Epel leans forward to peer at Sebek’s face, sticking to your side as you all fall in line. “What could you possibly know? I think I did a good job with my hospitality.”

“Harassment, more like,” you snort, piling food on your tray every time Grim points out something. Epel elbows you in the hip and you jerk, but Sebek takes note of how you don’t seem bothered by it in the slightest. Jack, meanwhile, casts a disapproving frown towards Epel. The boy just shrugs and sticks to your side even more.

“Gotta take advantage,” Epel says out loud, increasing his volume for the newly-arrived duo. “If I gotta share my bed, I should at least get something out of it, right?” His smirk looks out of place on his angelic features. “I know I got something out of it. Or something out of you.” This time, you were the one to elbow Epel.

Ace peeks his face from out behind Jack’s towering build, eager to butt into the conversation. “Why’re you acting like you’re the only one who slept with—” Jack now elbows Ace.

Now, you look mildly uncomfortable. The conversation had attracted the attention of the people you were in line with, and Ace’s outburst continued to turn the gaze of others. You already knew about the rumors circulating about you— how easy you were, how much of a Jezebel you must be. You averted your gaze from one leering Ignihyde student, who squeaked when five boys glared him down with the same ferocity of a lion. Even Sebek felt the teeniest bit mortified for you.

“You’re too loud,” Sebek stiffly addresses the others. Jack looks miffed to be lumped with the others. The others look similarly miffed to be called loud by Sebek of all people. “If you’re going to be indecent, do so in private.” You flash Sebek a grateful smile before heading to find yourselves a seat. The other boys took note of the bright blush tinging his cheeks before he follows you.

“Cheat,” Ace mumbles. Everyone except Jack nodded in agreement.

“You look tired, [Y. Name],” Deuce comments as soon as the group settles down on a table far from the other students. You seem to have caught on what would be the topic for the remainder of your lunch, so you decided to think ahead and save yourself the impending embarrassment. “Have you been sleeping much since Heartslabyul? You can always go back if you want.” Jack scoffs. “I’m pretty sure they didn’t get much sleep either over there.” Deuce blushes pink before erasing whatever image he had brewing. Ace shoots a knowing grin his way.

He points a fork at the beastman, who guides it down and scolds him for the rude gesture. “You stole them away from me— er, us.” He amends his mistake when Deuce scowls at him. “Eager to play knight, huh?”

“I actually got some sleep over at Jack’s, by the way,” you chime in. Jack’s tail starts to rapidly wag. “Perhaps the most normal night this month.”

The conversation devolves into idle chatter, comparing the dorms you’ve stayed at and commenting on your hosts’ quirks. You carry yourself nonchalantly, as if you’re not describing being harrassed and being drugged. This amuses and delights both Ace and Epel, while Jack shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Deuce is currently squirming, desperately trying to stop himself from imagining how each night went. It is clear to everyone (except maybe Deuce) that you’re omitting some things, but only Ace has the audacity to push for more details.

“So what’s that pervy dormhead making you do, huh?” Ace leans in with an eager grin.. “Is he making you cosplay his anime waifus in his mancave? Hmm…?”

There it is again, you feeling the lobe of your ear for something that isn’t there. Sebek catches on as your eyes nervously flit everywhere, until your eyes catch his probing ones and you force yourself to settle down. “I’d rather be anywhere than in Ignihyde right now,” you say, voice the most seething he’s heard you. It also feels like a plea, as you throw him a glance before going back to your food. “Then just leave,” Jack suggests, as if it were ever that simple. “Stay the night at the infirmary. Or you can come back to Savanaclaw.” Ace. “You’re not fucking slick, Jack.”

“I tried, okay.” Brushing off the suggestion, you purse your lips. “But that cree– Idia is er, surprisingly insistent. Pushy. Forceful. Take your pick. Ortho won’t even let me step out of the mirror for classes unless he’s with me.” Everyone nods in understanding. After all, who could outrun an android that can laser beams out of his hands? 

“At least Ortho’s taking good care of you,” Deuce tries to comfort you. You respond with a sardonic smile and choose to not comment any further. 

“Poor Sebek can’t say anything~” Ace teases, pointing at him with alternate fingers. “Jealous? If you can manage to get Ortho outta the way, then it’s gonna be Diasomnia’s turn. You exci~iited? A sleepover with our pretty lil prefect~?” “AS IF!” Sebek yells, shooting up to glare daggers down at the unfazed redhead. “IT IS UNCOURTLY TO SHARE A ROOM MUCH LESS A BED WITH YOUR—” He catches himself before he can say something he does not want to let slip. He calms himself and sits down, leveling everyone with mocking gaze. “I am not as beholden to beastly urges as you lot. [Y. Name] is to get the most hospitality in Diasomnia and have their own room. In fact, Master Lilia has already arranged for it. As for Ortho—” His face takes on a smug look. “He is not a match for Master Lilia. We will welcome [Y. Name] and Grim by morning light as soon as we finish up preparations.”

Epel furrows his brows, tilting his head as he thinks about something. “Hm… but doesn’t Lilia seem the type to…?”

Sebek feels the urge to yell at Epel for having such disgraceous thoughts about Lilia, but even he finds himself frowning as he considers the possibility. “Well… Master Lilia has his… quirks, but he is a great man nonetheless. A gentleman, even. I have the utmost faith that he will handle [Y. Name] with the manner befitting a host.”

Ace leans in to whisper in Epel’s ear. “Yeaaaah Lilia is up to no good.” “YOU ALWAYS HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY, DON’T YOU?!” 

You are comfortably more at ease during Sebek’s whole tirade, though some of the tension is still there. “Whatever the case, anywhere is better than Ignihyde right now.” Your gaze narrows slightly, your voice dropping to an angry whisper as if something heated had angrily grasped your chest. “Anywhere is better than here.”

Sebek and Jack exchange a glance, sensitive hearing having picked up on your heated words. They purse their lips and look away.

“Where are you going?” Epel calls out. You have abruptly stood up and taken your tray with you, barely even having touched your food. Grim is all too eager to finish the rest of them as you begin to walk. “You’ve barely even eaten…!”

“Going to Headmaster’s,” you say. You try to keep your tone light and airy, but your throat is still tight. “Don’t wait up for me. I’m not attending classes today to attend to the Headmaster’s task. See ya.”

Sebek lays in his bed, thinking about that look on your face this afternoon. You’ve always worn this passive mask, always placating the more temperamental mages with half-hearted assurances and forced smiles. It’s a mask that has clearly already been worn before. 

He thinks about traversing dreams with you and Silver, that same look of bitterness as you played audience to the dreams of many. He had stood shoulder to shoulder, unwillingly watching the absurd dreams of these humans play out before you. Humans have always been ugly creatures, but they had this alarming ability to pretend that they weren’t. You were especially great at that, yet even you couldn’t reign in the jealousy from distorting your face.

He had never commented on it. There were bigger things at hand. He needed to save Young Master, Master Lilia was dying, Silver was the child of his land’s colonizers… But what could there possibly be jealous of? Were you so eager to lay your soul’s deepest desires bare just like the rest of them?

With a groan, he rolls over and buries his face into the pillow. Curse you! Restful sleep evades him yet again tonight, solely because you preoccupy his thoughts!

His phone buzzes and he hesitates for a second before reaching for it. It is not a good habit to use gadgets before you sleep, but his mind is too busy to sleep that he might as well use some of its energy on whatever nonsense the group chat has cooked up.

TOXIC 🤢🤢 (EPEL FELMIER): they whine so prettily as well  TOXIC 🤢🤢 (EPEL FELMIER): and they’re so soft… down there…  TOXIC 🤢🤢 (EPEL FELMIER): then they stare at you with those big eyes cuz they want you to stop… but it’s kinda hard to stop cuz theyre soo fucking cute SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): yeah im hard class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): oh my god he’s shuffling a lot do NOT JACK OFF NEXT TO ME SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): hard typing w one hand :/ JACK HOWL, EPEL FELMIER reacted 👎 DEUCE SPADE reacted 🤢

Abhorrent. How can one be so shameless with their lust? And in front of others as well? If one could see Sebek’s face right now, the disgust may leave such a lasting expression on them that you’d think he came across a defacement of his Young Master’s portrait. 

class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): i wish i could’ve slept with [y. name] 🙁 TOXIC 🤢🤢 (EPEL FELMIER): 🍆🍆🍆 class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): NOT LIKE THAT .. IM NOT ACE WTF SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): yeah hes worse JACK HOWL, DEUCE SPADE, EPEL FELMIER reacted 👎 SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): tf? SEBEK ZIGVOLT reacted 👎 SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): ??????? class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): after ace threw us out seniors cater andd trey decided to take [y. name] for themselves… i never had the chance 😔 its so UNFAIR SUPREME LEADER (ACE TRAPPOLA): thems the brakes in nrc. you snooze, you lose EPEL FELMIER, JACK HOWL reacted with 👍

Sleeping with the human…?

Sebek shuts off his phone and places it on the bedside, groaning to himself as his thoughts grow louder. It’s all that everyone talks about these days. He had heard Floyd bragging about it to Riddle in the library, his voice echoing through the shelves as he droned about what he had done to you. It was nothing short of harassment, and Riddle seemed to agree because he decided to furiously cast Off With Your Head on Floyd. But even Riddle had retorted about having you in his bedroom for a tea, talking about marriage talks that even had Floyd looking dangerous (if it weren’t for the collar around his neck). 

Silver and Lilia even insisted on not bringing Malleus out to eat anywhere publicly as long as these rumors went around. The three of them knew all too well about his fondness for you, and that he’d surely strike down the rumormongers who liked to comment on what your performance could be like in bed. You must have been elated to have Ramshackle destroyed, they say, because now you have an excuse to whore yourself out as much as you wanted. Sebel had struck down a few students for saying that within his earshot. How much more Malleus?

Still. It vexes him how much one human— and a non-mage at that!— could stir up an entire school like you do. You liked to play the unassuming part, a supporting role as you set up the stage for the mages to take center. Not to say that you were unassuming. You are on the prettier side… but… Sebek hides his blush deeper into his pillow. The fact was! You were nothing special! Nothing special, indeed…

class idiot (DEUCE SPADE): i wish i could’ve slept with [y. name] 🙁

He thinks back to Deuce’s message. To prostate themselves over a mere magickless… how humiliating for a student of Night Raven College! What was there to wish for! To have your body nestled next to his, sharing your warmth as you shielded yourselves from Diasomnia’s cold? To have your fingers clasped around his sword-calloused hands, comforting yourself as you experience a nightmare? To open your eyes and see Sebek, relief flooding you as you know that there will at least be one man in this world who wouldn’t hurt you? To press your lips on his forehead, then on his cheek, then to his cold lips? To have your lips sweetly say the words he’s been…

Sebek shoots up, absolutely mortified at these dangerous thoughts. Sebek Zigvolt! A trained warrior from birth, heir to the noble and dignified Zigvolt line! How could he let his thoughts fall to depravity! For his temptations to succumb to one (albeit pretty-looking) human! He shakes his head as if trying to loosen all the blockage from his brain, massaging his aching temples. Tomorrow dawn, he will swing his sword a thousand times to atone for this weakness!

But tonight, he pouts to himself and squeezes his eye shut, traitorous mind wandering off to when he might see you within the halls of Diasomnia again.

a/n ! im gonna be real w u idk what i was going for either... i wanted something that would be an insight into what mc was going through... but rather it seemed to be an insight on a perverted gc and a more (normal) sebek [hes gonna have his yandere moments in his section dont worry]. i was hoping to use sebek to provide a more normal perspective on whats going on... but hmmm :/// also jack doesnt talk in the last gc convo bc its way past his bedtime and hes sleepy lol. i think rushed thru this intermission too much. ill take my time and perfect the diasomnia one! promise!

You thoroughly calculated each step you took on that jet black darkness. With brow furrowed and the sides of your lips tilted downwards, you wondered: would Beldaruit get mad? He had asked you to practice your spells, yet you completely failed once more. You were no child (according to yourself), you couldn't keep showing him wobbly lines as if you were still a newborn out of Dadah Range.

You pulled some of your drawings out of your leather bag—it accompanied you everywhere since it was quite sturdy, Beldaruit truly didn't hold back at pampering you with well designed trinkets. You couldn't show those circles to him… circles? More like ovals dreaming of a perfect, yet unachievable, geoid shape.

You sighed, awkwardly shoving those inside your bag again, not minding how crumbly they would get by the unnecessary force you put on your fingers when maneuvering them. Thankfully you had sketched those with coal, no Silverwood ink should be wasted on your “art”. You stopped for a second—given your upturned face, one could believe you were now idle to ponder your inabilities, however, something else caught your eyes…

Trotting like a goat, glittering like a firefly yet fluffy like a whole kitten litter—a translucent dust bunny army marched close to your feet, leading the way to a hidden spot amidst the onyx maze of the underwater realm.

Your cyan robes were attacked by some little ones who annoyingly pulled you to follow the rest of them, only to dissolve after applying too much pressure on the silky vests.

Gulping (out of how embarrassing it was rather than fearing a troop of ephemeral fairy-like abnormalities), you followed them obediently. Perhaps you could get Beldaruit to feel a bit soft for your terrible wannabe-magic in case you showed appreciation for the bunnies—not that you didn't like such, it was merely because accepting that you truly enjoyed these cheek blushing moments was too much to bear.

Each blueish ember cast ablaze the figure of elven nymphs flying around, immediately being dissolved into deep blue light which wrought his form within the dark chamber.

“Oh, dear! Looks like Master Bel’s favorite has returned!” the older man beamed, clasping his hands together at your image.

“Is it you or another illusion…?” you asked, placing your hat upon the closest ebony furniture—you didn't even bother to set gaze upon his wrinkled pout.

“Oh, you're wrong this time. It's me! Rotting flesh and dismantled bones! Old little me!” proclaimed the sage with intertwined fingers upon his lap. After rolling his eyes, he went back to his natural countenance within seconds.

“Either way, dear…” begun the witch, only to be interrupted by a very stubborn you:

“Of course I'm your favorite apprentice, I'm the only one you have for the time being!” you said, the only one he had for now… it left a very bitter hint on your tastebuds—Beldaruit taking someone else in, someone more skilled than you, who’d rob his dotting all for themselves… either way, you opened your bag and fetched the more presentable sketches you had in store.

With a sigh, Beldaruit set his left elbow on his chair’s armrest, propping his face against the back of his knuckles—oh, this dreadful behavior only meant you were disappointed with yourself, rather than indicating you harbored bittersweet thoughts about him. Beldaruit gestured forward with his free hand, invitingly moving his fingers towards his own form, going from the index to the pinky.

“Let’s see it… well, yes… wobbly lines of an apprentice too eager to grow past their current abilities. Common, very common. Rest and try again tomorrow, then you'll see actual magic happening."

He analysed each drawing you handed with half opened eyes, tired from repeating the same thing he had constantly hovered on the tip of his tongue for all of your self hating moments.

“What? That's all?” You looked down, you didn't want to bother him… but…

“Look!” you brought up another set of paper, the one on which were carved the spells you hated the most. You hadn't planned to show those, but you wanted to prove to him how you were right about your supposed lack of talent.

“Oh, these are of a very tired and very grumpy apprentice. With some rest and love, actual magic will happen! Rest assured!” He swore lovingly.

Now, completely defeated, you moved towards his lap—throwing yourself upon his expensive robes and soft form. Thin fingers were quick to make their way to comb through your locks, seeking to calm down your very annoyed nerves by pressing fingertips gingerly on your scalp.

You pulled your head up just a little, only to see he had cast your papers upon his desk during your quick meltdown—your sloppy work looked even worse now that it was set by the side of his symmetrical lines and perfectly drawn circles.

“I try so hard…” you sniffed.

“Oh, dear, even way too much… come here, hop up…” the silver haired man didn't hold back, his hands aiming towards your shoulders, removing your face from the lap he was about to tap invitingly. How could you deny it? You curled upon him, face on the crook of his neck. Beldaruit’s robes felt like a warm cocoon made of pastel blue hues and fine needlework.

“I feel like taking a break…” was what you bravely whispered, twirling a thin lock of his hair around your fingers.

“Then do so… nothing good comes out of a tired mind, sweetie. Here…” the sage nicely gifted you a kiss upon your brows, which served as a sign for you to get even closer… if possible.

“I thought you'd be asleep when I came back. You're still on your chair…!”

“Darling, I spend almost half of my day on that damned bed. I want to stay away from that a little!” Before you could apologize, afraid you had been insensitive regarding his condition, he quickly cupped your face, a quick peck being given to your nosetip.

“Also, if I was to be asleep by now, just like ‘most people my age’—since you might think I'm old like a phoenix—I wouldn't be able to catch sight of my beautiful…” said him, between kisses “Gorgeous…” now it was getting embarrassingly good, ”Sweet, perfect and favorite apprentice…!”

”But-”

“No, no! No more ‘I’m your only apprentice’ talk! Now you must rest or else you'll go crazy over those tiny little bent curves.”

“It’s just that… I owe you so much… you took me in even though you couldn't…”

“Oh dear…” Beldaruit began, arms securing your waist and hair falling around you like a pristine curtain. “I did it because I could never bear to see such a nice thing like you having your memories erased, could I? Especially not when the brimmed ones had been cruel to you… so I just snatched you under my robes!” the older man said, tilting cutely.

“Truly, you're an outsider, but that's our little secret! The sage of teachings and his outsider apprentice! Worth a book, if you asked me!” He nodded as if he had came up the greatest plot, but you could only think about how the Knight Moralis would never allow such a novel.

“Either way, dearir…” continued the older witch, “You might think that you're in great debt, but you bring me much joy that, if there's someone here who should be rewarded, rest assured for it's surely you…” and, as your fingers uncurled from his hair, Beldaruit set his lips upon your cheek, giggling to himself afterwards.

“Will you ever get another student…?”

“Well, I haven't been prone to handle more than one at once. Qifrey, riliphin… I never sought for a second student while dealing with each of them. Unless… you want a little friend…?”

The way he implied that, as if you were little as well and in search of another person just as little was quite nice to hear, despite how much you supposedly hated being called a kid. If you tried to describe the harshness of being a child, you would receive a scornful chuckle or an insult to your sensitivity, because it is coherent for adults to abuse you with daily looks of disapproval, pressure in every physical touch received and the denial of the simplest desires—when cruelty is done through such casual ways, it becomes quite complicated, because it is impossible to share it without sounding pathetic. But now, being treated like a kid didn't mean being belittled, if anything, it was the total opposite.

“No, I don't want it. I want you all for myself…”

With that declaration, you fully hid your face on Beldaruit’s neck, praying he wouldn't notice the blushing of your skin by the rising temperature around your cheeks. Instead of teasing, he simply surrounded your form with a gentle squeeze.

“So all yours I shall be…”

“Is it alright if I sleep with you tonight, Bel…?”

“Bel? How over sweetly informal! You are truly still lacking some ‘witch society manners’, not as if I’d correct it out of you now! Let's see… hmm…” he pondered, hand cupped around his own chin. “I don't know which lullaby I should sing for you today… let's pick one…”

All the doubts he answered with a “Let’s leave it aside for now, dear” weaved a complex web of intercalated feelings in you. Would he ever answer them? Perchance Olruggio knew about them already?

And in case Olruggio wasn't allowed either, then how could you be expected to be the chosen one in the fairytale?

How could you win against Olruggio?

It seemed like you wanted to fit inside a heart which rooms had been prescribed eons ago.

It was as if you were walking through a cramped space, with piles of rubbish about to fall down and suffocate you mercilessly.

“What’s it, darling? Thinking too much today…?”

You held a blank paper, your other hand clutched your pen. “I can't decide which spell to draw…” He tilted, you were a bad liar, especially for someone like Qifrey—who, let’s say, is very good at keeping things hidden away.

“It’s just that your furrowing brow gave me hints of quite the sad spirit… are you bothered? Have I been neglecting you…?”

That hit the spot.

“Never! You’re always so nice to me, Qifrey!” you stood up, looking down at a Qifrey who was still sitting onto the grass.

The prairie wind ruffled his hair, and as if that wasn’t enough, the scene was enhanced by his muffled chuckles. That sound was technically yours from the moment Qifrey took it upon him to care for you more intimately, but could you fully claim it? Were his feelings equitably distributed between you and…

He reached out a hand for you. You accepted, expecting to help him stand up, but he led you towards himself, making you fall atop the witch whom you held in the highest plateau.

With your chest atop of his, you tried your best not to breathe too hastily.

“You’re getting purple dear…” Qifrey suggested, you shock your head. “Yes, you're… I prefer it when you grow red…” bony fingers held your cheeks, leading your face to his—a quick peck was gifted to your lips.

“I like it better this way!” He pronounced when your ears twitched carmesin, the red following to flood your face.

“I was feeling jealous… of you, you see…” you looked away, cleaning your lips stubbornly.

“Hmm, may I know more about it, sunshine…?”

You denied. Maybe he felt the same stinging when he denied you answers?

“I see… that's a pity, but you may keep your silence. I can still soothe your heart either way, can't I…?”

You nodded… almost. You stopped when you moved your head downwards, not leading it up to complete the motion.

“I feel like… there's no space in your heart for me…”

Qifrey’s hands traveled from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you down so you’d fully rest onto him. Now your chests were touching.

You could tell from the drumming within your ribcage that you were going feral, but there was also a rhythmical palpitation hitting your exterior—perchance his?

“I adore you. Did someone tell you otherwise, sweetie…? Or is your mind being your nemesis…?”

“The latter…”

Qifrey kissed your neck, his hands finding the gap of your upper clothing just to creep his fingers where no silk sheltered your flesh. Your spine chilled as he tapped every spot with his finger pads.

“You act like a big child, hmm…?” he whispered… “You can be disarmed so easily, I'd never not have a place in my heart to shelter something so precious…”

“Sometimes I wish I was an old witch from the storybooks…”

“Why so, angel?”

“Perhaps I would be more comparable to you if I weren't so young. If we had met sooner… when we were still small, perhaps then… maybe we would be closer.”

Qifrey giggled.

“So you’d like to be older so our younger selves could've coexisted? I don't wish for such, you see. I like you the way you are—watching you flourish when I've already done it myself brings me back to the older days.

“You make me feel younger, I wouldn't trade anything for such. So… I'd say you're thinking pretty low of me.”

“Wait, why?” you raised your upper body, ceasing the contact between your chests and locking your gaze with his.

“Do you think your Qifrey is a coward who has given everything to others and there's nothing left for you? Let me tell you, my love, I'm at your mercy, I say it wholeheartedly. So… let's get inside, laying on the grass is ticklish… it isn't fit for more intimate affection…”

Even so, no matter how close you two became—how many intimate moments you shared—, you still wondered if he liked you better when you didn't ask questions or inquired about the shallowness of his sporadic answers.

After all, ‘you act like a child’, and like one, there were things you weren't suppose to know.

You had a theoretical reverence for gallantry, good looks, and whatever was described as desirable through social norms.

Even so, such things wouldn't matter if there wasn't a menacing exterior, ready to be peeled away, nicely contrasting with a sugary filling.

However, once you found these perks embodied in Olruggio, you eventually realized you'd harshly be the one to relish onto it when Qifrey seemed to gobble it all.

Perhaps you had found a way to protect yourself on stepping back—if you got too close you'd be a moth circling a light it wasn't supposed to reach.

The scratches of his beards, his loose shirts and all the gentleness he kept tucked in would appear in your restless dreams. If you knew you'd be like such, you wouldn't have taken a role as his significant other, even when he was the one to ask for it.

You should've understood beforehand that some things are in our tangible reach, yet they aren't meant for us to seal contact with, for we lack unknown traits that would make us worthy of those blessings.

Manuscripts and papyri feel like a cuddly toy when you hug them to your chest. You sway as you walk, processing each piece of information like a martyr.

You sit down, yet you're unable to compact your thoughts for a featherlight caress creep upon each lump of your spine. That same, ticklish bearded chin resting atop your shoulder.

“Hi, Olly…” you turned back, exposing your face to his, hence earning a peck on the lips. Olruggio seemed sleepy, he spoke slowly and smelled a bit like bed sheets—something he seemed to still earn. He hugged your shoulders, melting right there.

“hmm… hello, sweetie… how are ‘ya’ doing…”

“Were you up all night working with Mister Qifrey…?” You asked to prove yourself you didn't care, even though you knew your heart would hilt bitterly once he nodded.

“‘Yeah’, pretty much… c’mon, turn around.” when you did, Olly took your hands onto his, kissing your wrists and feeling each pulse of your veins on his lips. He peppered butterfly kisses all over your arm, until he reached your clothed collarbone, daintily disarraying the buttons for a better access.

Whenever Olly threw jokes only him and Qifrey would get, or when he showed up his spells and got the attention of good looking folk, you’d wonder if you were the best vessel for him to pour his affection…

“‘Ya’ alright, muffin…? Sorry, did I cross the line here…?” his fingers were quick to ministrate your buttons back. But you denied his reason to worry.

“Do you think being with someone younger than you is… hmm… annoying…?”

He threw his face backwards.

“Do I look like I keep people I dislike around? Specially for romantic ends?”

“I don't think you do, but I keep on wondering if I met you… too late in life…?”

“Why? Do I look so old? If I shaved you'd think I'm fresh ‘outta’ twenty!”

“No… no I wouldn't! Either way, I don’t think you'd stick with someone you find mean or intentionally annoying, but… you see… you've your share of questionable habits. How would I know I'm not one of the things draning you…?”

He scratched the back of his head, yet he didn't look annoyed.

“Alright, listen… you're acting like an annoying youngster now—I can't deny it—, so stop comparing your timeline to mine. I'm your older boyfriend and that's completely fine!”

“Is it…?”

“Well, I'm not old enough to die tomorrow so you can steal the patent of my yet to come contraptions, nor are we so similar it'd look like I'm dating a mirror… yeah, it's fine.

“Anyway, why are you jealous? Most people probably think I look like a begger.”

“Qifrey surely does not…”

Olly stood up. You raised your pupils to get a better view of him, but your face was forcibly pushed down by a frowning hand, it ruffled your hair forming knots you weren't up to comb later.

“You're impossible to deal with, are you up to badmouthing me now?”

“Olly, it hurts-”

Yet he could barely hear you properly. It was now only mouth and teeth and some occasional sighs while he berated himself not to gobble you up during that. He broke contact, birthing a thin thread of saliva, yet he began again, still showing off the gentleness he reserved for you—although it was a bit disrupted by his beard, but you had gotten used to it being scratched all over your skin whenever Olly wanted contact.

“So… wouldn't you…” you tapped both you index together when he released you. “Like to… date someone else…?” you tilted, smiling pathetically to soften up your inquiry.

He huffed, holding the bridge of his nose and deciding your question was too stupid to waste time answering.

“I’ll go to bed now…” he said, cleaning your lips with his thumb. “You’ll go with me. I don't like sleeping alone, to be honest… but well, we don't need to sleep if you don't want to.”

One must be kind, specially to younger folk.

You’re sprawled out on the couch, with the comforting weight and warmth of Keigo’s body anchoring you further into the cushions. Drained from a long week of work, you two flip through the channels on the TV hoping to find something that mildly piques your interests. Mindlessly jabbing at the remote and skipping through the bursts of laugh tracks and commercials, you pause when you see a zookeeper holding a tiger cub.

You look down at Keigo for confirmation, “Are you in the mood for animals?”

He nods and buries himself further into your chest, a wordless invitation for you to lace your fingers into his hair. Indulging him, you comb through his silky strands and lightly massage at his scalp the way he likes. You two watch the zoo documentary in silence, occasionally cooing at the progress of the rehabilitated cub and his mother. Absentmindedly playing with the waistband of your shorts, Keigo mumbles, “I’ve always wanted to go to one of these places.”

You softly gasp, “A zoo? There’s a really nice one here that I've gone to a few times, I'll take you!”

"You're always taking my life experience virginity," he laughs meekly.

A bit more awake now, you tell him about the different animals they have at the zoo.

"We can even feed the piglets!" you beam.

As you excitedly insist on making a full day out of it like a grade-school field trip, Keigo immediately gets shy about it, always feeling vulnerable when he reveals yet another small pleasure he’s missed out on in his life. With the slight abundance of free time that he has now that he is Hawks: The HPSC President and not Hawks: The Wing Hero, you two occasionally go on spontaneous dates as you discover more of these little things he hasn’t done. Last month it was an amusement park (which he was not at all impressed by the speeds or heights of the roller-coasters), and next weekend it's going to be the zoo.

Spotting a large netted outdoor area, you pull Keigo's arm across the pebbled trail, "Look, babe! An aviary! This is new, it wasn't here the last time!"

Keigo laughs at your excitement, his naturally lined eyes crinkling at the sheer joy in your voice. You let him drag you to the places he was most excited about first, and now it was his turn to indulge you.

You fawn over the tufted parrot in front of you when it looks in your direction, “Oh, it's looking at me! Hi, cutie pie!”

You feel Keigo’s grip on your hand tighten almost painfully. You whip around to look at him, “Ow! What happened?”

“Sorry, a bug flew too close to my ear,” he says monotonically, making you furrow your brows at him in questioning.

Being the trained spy he is, he laughs it off to ease your suspicion, “There are bees everywhere out here, baby. You know how I feel about bees.”

You brush it off and let go of his hand, leading the way to the next section of birds.

You quietly observe them as they fly around and peck at their food. Coming across a particular one, you giggle, "Hawks look, its a hawk!"

Completely enraptured by the pretty bird, you miss the way his body slightly stiffens.

Complimenting it as if the little guy could understand you, you say, “Oh you’re just too gorgeous! Keigo, look at the pattern on it's wings! Awww I want to pet-”

Faster than you can blink, he’s in your space. He loops an arm tightly around your waist and pulls you into himself, your back flush against his toned front.

Startled by the movement you ask, “Whoa– are you feeling okay?”

“I'm fine,” he says shortly.

You look over your shoulder to stare at him in confusion. His golden eyes are shooting lasers at the bird, his pupils dilating and expanding repeatedly. The hawk responds instantly, puffing its feathers and squawking at him incessantly at the unspoken threat. He’s standing like a brick wall behind you, his grip fierce on your waist. You frown in confusion, looking between the hawk and your Hawks, then around to the other people who have started to stare. Using all your strength, you start walking backwards, pushing Keigo further away from the distressed bird, hoping that some distance would calm them both down.

You’ve experienced this strange possessive side of Keigo only once before, when he interrupted a man flirting with you at a park while he was passing by on hero duty. You imagine today, if he still had his wings like he did then, his feathers would be sharpened into blades— Oh fuck, his wings. The realization hits you like a truck. Since Keigo lost his wings during the war, it's been one of those touchy things you two don’t really talk about. He pretends he’s fine, you pretend to believe him, and you ignore the way he'd shimmy through smaller spaces in attempts to make room for wings that were no longer there. You mentally scold yourself at your mindless slip up.

Quickly turning around to face him, you cradle his face in your palms, “Oh, honey. I’m so so sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

You notice his breathing is ragged and his eyes look panicked. Linking your arm with his, you guide him to the exit and a nearby secluded bench. After sitting for a minute or so, he seems to have calmed down.

"Hey," you softly say, "Talk to me, what are you feeling right now?"

He looks away from you shamefully, avoiding eye contact, "I'm okay," he says roughly.

"No, Keigo, you're not. I'm truly sorry. My comments were inconsiderate and-"

"Can we talk about this at home, babe, please? Not right now," he pleads, finally looking into your eyes.

You can see the anguish collecting between his brows, and you lift your hand to smooth the wrinkle there with your thumb.

"Okay, lets go home."

The drive home was quiet, but not uncomfortable. The smooth beats of the radio and hum of the engine dissipated any remaining tension in Keigo's shoulders and in your mind.

Finally changed into pajamas, you intend to give Keigo space and lounge in the living room. As you gather your things to leave the bedroom, Keigo calls out your name. Turning to face him, you notice he's seated at the top of the bed, leaning against the headboard and pulling the sheets on your side of the bed back in invitation. You smile lightly, and make your way over to him.

After letting you cozy up next to him, he wraps his arm around you and begins, "I want to explain and apologize for earlier."

A small smile graces his lips, but his voice is quiet, embarrassed almost. Your stomach drops with guilt, fighting the urge to say he has nothing to apologize for. You nod for him continue.

"This is so stupid to explain, but you've seen some of my birdish traits before…" he trails off.

"Not stupid, don't talk like that. But yes, I have," you say.

He clears his throat and continues, "I've never had that happen before but I guess some inner avian instinct felt threatened… or felt that there was some competition because I don't have wings anymore. Even though my quirk is technically gone, it still happens. It's such an out of body experience, it's a bit embarrassing for me to talk about…"

You softly smile in reassurance and he returns it, "There's no need to feel embarrassed, but I understand. I still want to apologize though", you say as your fingers lightly trail his back.

Beneath your fingertips you feel the raised scar tissue left over from his burns from about two years ago now. For you, the surface is familiar, but for him its still something to be ashamed of.

You continue, "My words were careless and I'm sorry. I know your wings are a sensitive subject, and competitive instinct or not, I am the one who made you feel threatened and I never want to do that again. I want you to feel safe with me Keigo, safe enough to talk about the things that are bothering you."

He looks at you with such sincerity, like he believes you could do no wrong. His golden eyes twinkle at your affirmation.

"Besides, you know you're the only birdie for me, even if you are a little possessive," you giggle as you brush his fluffy eyebrow down with your thumb, "No one could ever compare, trust me."

He makes a little sound at that, making you melt even more for your pretty, petty lover.

When Beldaruit he first proposed to you when you two were still in your prime adult days was like a fairytale come true. Not only was his mind filled with endless possibilities on how to propose but where it would be, who would be there, and what you wanted especially.

Of course when you accepted his proposal, he was over the moon. All that overthinking, palms sweating, and ranting to himself actually meant something in the end! He loved you more than his heart could beat. Therefore, he promised he’ll make the future days ahead better than what you would imagine they’d be.

In terms of who lives where, he’d want you to move with in and stay in the Great Hall. It was just better that way and way easier than you living outside the Great Hall. He wants to be near you or at least see you everyday. The morning where you share a morning kiss and the night where you share a goodnight kiss.

In terms of rings, he probably found a way without asking you directly on what ring or what you’d want on your future engagement ring to look like. He holds secrets very well, and knows when it’s the right time to show or tell you. Let’s just say the ring he got for you was almost everything you wanted. Whenever it was silver, gold, rose gold, etc.

Since you guys are engaged, he immediately started planning the wedding— in fact he started already! Of course the location and you also pitched in your own thoughts and ideas. In terms of wedding dress, you got to decide yourself which in the end on the day of the wedding, he still shed some tears just watching you walk down the aisle.

Beldaruit makes sure your time with him is never wasted. Now you two are bonded, he makes sure that the word— because being honest, word always gets out. Especially when your married and previously dated someone who before became one of the wise, was someone who people knew pretty well. He wants people to know that he’s happy and to always treat you with respect.

To the present day, Beldaruit always respects you and treats you like you’re more important than him in some scenarios. You’ve already met Qifrey, but he introduces you to Coco along with the rest of Qifrey’s apprentices when the time is right and they finally go down to the Great Hall.

Whenever Beldaruit has troubles, he always shares them to you. You’re his most precious, trustful person he can ever rely on. You guys wouldn’t be married if you weren’t. Nonetheless, he tells his troubles and you two figure it out together on how to solve it. Think of it as a sort of bonding with each other.

Beldaruit always calls you his angel. He loves it when he refers to you by angel, beloved, or dear. He’ll throw in dearest here and there. He’s also never afraid to say it in front of people either. Beldaruit takes pride knowing that you’re his beloved.

Overall, Beldaruit cares and loves you deeply. He takes no regrets that he married you. Seeing you as his own magic as he takes magic so close to him in his own life as a witch. As long as you’re around, he’ll be the most happiest man anyone can witness.

@/SOVEREIGNTYANGEL ໒꒱ ，creds to @/cursed-carmine for banners

QIFREY

❥ manipulative. past his kindhearted exterior, qifrey isn’t afraid to be morally grey. more than once he’s convinced you to stay, even when everything else told you to leave. used the girls as leverage to keep you near him.

❥ isolating. forged letters to your family to make sure they’d never get concerned by your absence. threatened your friends if they tried to come see you. picks your support systems by the roots and cuts them off, little by little.

❥ hot and cold. one day he’ll be kind, kissing you lovingly on the cheek and whispering how much he loves you. the next day, he’ll ignore you completely, citing your behavior as the reason.

OLRUGGIO

❥ deceptive. originally, olruggio comes across as a blundering idiot. that’s his front, at least. however, every aspect of his first impression is a lie to conceal the true nature of his feelings.

❥ charismatic. olruggio could convince even the strongest-willed person to change their mind. his reputation proceeds him; and he often uses that as leverage.

❥ irrational. if you even mention the idea of leaving, he’ll become dismissive for a week until you tell him you were joking. his aloof demeanor hides his true obsession.

“It’s darkening, it'll probably rain too…” he commented, pushing back the flora that surrounded your secret retreat. Blackened ebony tendons formed a living dome over your form—if Qifrey looked too much at those, the ripples on the trees would take the form of mocking smirks, a personification made exclusively to ridicule him.

He merely reached out with his hand, yet it was enough for you to retreat—not in anger, your pupils weren't dilated in that fashion. Actually, you seemed quite unquiet.

“I scared you, didn't I…” Now his usual looks were back. He sat on the grass with you and fixed your messy clothes—you had run away so eagerly just now, so they were crumbled and filled with leaves. He had pondered if it was better to leave you alone, but instead he allowed himself to be selfish and sought to slayer the weight as soon as possible.

“You did scare me, it's just that… you seemed a bit…”

“Off?”

You nodded.

“Well dear, that's quite the understatement.”

“But you didn't do anything, so-”

“Darling… some things are quite hard to let out, aren't they? But truth must be said, I didn't handle the situation like it was fit. Honey, you can tell me…”

You still hugged your knees, although now you were much more relaxed for the thighness in your grip had subsided.

“Oh, dear me.” He clasped his hands together, relishing on how comfortable you were getting. “Are you mad? Are you scared…?”

“Not anymore…”

Qifrey offered you his hand, which now you joyfully accepted. He hugged your arm, resting his face on your shoulder. At the vision of it, you flushed and turned around…

“You’re getting so warm now, hmm…? Dear, from now on that's the only kind of emotion I'll give you… perhaps we could find more overwhelming, yet pleasant ones, for you to savor…” he grinned.

So full of sorrow and mercifulness, and with such a trembling pulse, that his spells seemed to be drawn by somebody else—a much inexperienced person, possibly.

Olruggio rose from his chair, the ebony table before him adorned by crumbled ink smeared papers. His fingers tips went from his forehead to his chin as he massaged the heavy eyelids, messy beard and uncertainty away from his defeated grimace.

The moments passed swiftly and gloriously during the fleeting seconds of victory Olruggio experienced by the morning. But the forming of reddish eyebags on your face and the puffiness of your wet cheeks instantly disrupted his stillborn pride. Perchance he had used a too loud voice or cast an unpleasant remark without noticing.

Either way… it’s needless to say he should've been gentler. After all, he didn't hold himself in the highest position, you were certainly in a much adored location inside his heart. Therefore, it was enough of a reason to stop sweeping it under the mat and finally facing you.

You could only sniff after you had properly used up all your tears—chin resting on your knees as you tilted to see a small, glowing bird turning into tiny sparkles by your side. You turned back as your room’s door was slightly opened. Cleaning your eyes with your knuckles, you begun:

“Is it a new spell? It's very pretty!”

If you had met him with the expected hardness of a broken heart it'd have been much easier to remain on the lie he was dwelling in the past hours. However, you dared to glitter just like usual.

“I was planning on showing it to you, but…” he stepped fully inside—you felt his weight settling down by your side on the mattress.

“I annoyed you…” you uttered.

“No, I ended up hurting you… even though you're so kind to me, you see…” by holding your shoulder, Olruggio gently dragged you closer, turning you to face his form.

He held your hands, settling them so they'd be cupped. You looked up, wondering what was about to happen when he completed the circle of a spell unbeknownst to you—it gingerly took the form of a small hare, hopping onto your hands and oversprinkling into a composition akin to fairy dust once it laid on your nosetip.

Lord, it tickled so bad, but you couldn't help giggling both at the upcoming sneeze and how Olruggio was using fairy magic for such stuff. He was probably still working on it, therefore the terrible results of that dust.

“Why would you make it? It's so silly, certainly not something Olruggio of the Torch would craft with fire magic!”

He moved closer, kissing your cheek so strongly he had to hold onto your waist so you wouldn't crumble—actually he just wanted to squeeze you there.

“Let’s say I made it for a very lovely person…”

Although it was enough for you to understand he was sorry, he couldn't only go with that. Olruggio pulled you into a bone cracking hug, softened by his beard tickling your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You're too special for me to have treated you like that, do you forgive your silly Olruggio? He… I mean, I really want you back…”

You cackled, your face bursting with joyful tears. He was talking in the third person? Well… he must truly be sorry.

Beldaruit's room was the kind that mixed the gloomy with the grandiose: it was home of an exquisite type of decoration. It also had its share of masterful paintings, adorned with pearly arabesques. Either way, today was boring. He could count each glittering joy that he had collected, play with all his usual mirages, but none would satisfy that tingling feeling.

Actually, about those illusions he'd cast… he wasn't very fond of them now for he tried to use one to apologize, but your smile faltered the moment you noticed the glowing ends of his hair and the bubbles surrounding his vests.

He sighed, what a moron of an old man he was!

Wasn't the older side of any form of relationship supposed to be the mature one? The one who the younger partner would look up to and go to in search for any comfort? But it seemed like now you’d avoid his gaze to spare yourself from a trembling chin. Even the children could catch on to his change of behavior… perhaps if he hadn't been a coward.

Now, the great sage Beldaruit couldn't go like that for too long, especially not with the person he was the most fond of! It'd be a chore to find such a sweetheart like you, after all, no one could be his favorite like you were.

He wondered what you were thinking now, perhaps, given how gilt your heart was, you had already forgiven him, but he was too radiant to forgive himself like this.

You walked, circling the same area of that undersea miracle as you connected the fingertips of both of your hands, wondering, dreaming awake about the multiple ways you could go inside his chamber. Suddenly, you felt a tiny tap, a pixie-like touch to your shoulder. As you looked back, a small translucent butterfly fluttered by, following you incessantly.

It didn't lead you anywhere… you already knew where his place was, after all. But its transparent wings gained a cyan glow whenever you headed in a certain direction.

And, finally, when you found yourself a few meters away from him, the bug reached its most saturated hue, heading towards its kin that played around the sage. Beldaruit stayed still, watching a peaceful waterfront attentively.

“Oh, I'm too much of a wuss. You see…” he said, scratching his chin. “That illusion mishap… I suppose I should apologize about that first, it was more heartless than any sarcastic taunt I threw to you, my angel…” he opened his arm. “Come here? Please, don't be way too mean to me. It shows that I'd never bear to be treated like I treated you…”

You trotted towards the sage, throwing yourself onto his arms.

“My, as vivacious as a little goat!”

“Why are you here? I thought you'd be in your room!"

“Oh dear, no… no, I wanted to at least manage to show you something pretty to apologize for what I did…” he pulled you onto his chest, burying his nose on the top of your head.

“It seems like the old Bel was very mean to his favorite person! What a silly old man he is, treating a poor darling like you in such a ruthless manner…” he nodded to himself, pecking you sheepishly.

“That’s fine, Bel, I forgive you!” still, he furrowed.

“Hmm, no! That was too easy. Tell me something you want, anything!”

“Really, there's no reason-”

“Oh, hush! Do you want to fight again? I assure you I'm too old for it, I rather just spoil for the day…”

It is on a morning holiday that Easthies decide to martyr himself, feeling a sudden and unprecedented dedication to self-punishment. It was necessary to rummage through his memories, hunting in its collection for something that would motivate him to not linger in that position—with the hope of perhaps finding within it some trace that would finally prove to his core that that lethargy was not born of a naive daydream, but of a material, tangible form.

He could picture your image onto the flaring candles, you were even to blame for the static on his uncombed hair. Easthies had treated you like an outlaw, one who had stepped far enough not to be punished, but not too much to be properly handled.

His silent treatment hurt you the most. Having him daring only to look at you for an iota of a second whenever he passed by. Trying to simply greet him a good morning and being met with nothing but a quick furrow. It was painful. And he now felt failed for allowing himself to handle you with such an uncaring attitude.

That was he heard a rapping, a shy tapping upon his door. By opening it, he stared at your face for too long.

“I know you don't want to talk to me, but…” you fidgeted. “I’m sorry…”

Sorry, but for what? He was the one who had held your wrist tightly, the one who whispered quite the bitter message of how making amends was not a suitable path. Didn’t he also mention how you were holding him back from work when you stuttered to hold your point?

“I didn't want to annoy you… I won't talk to you ever again if you don't want me to…”

Well, perhaps he was actually very good at victim blaming, you even fall for it. Or maybe you just liked him a lot, didn't you? It hurt him either way, but you were hurt the most.

Easthies let you inside, closing the door behind you. He lingered still, until he allowed himself to crack that outer exterior.

“You shouldn't apologize, darling…” he massaged your face. You had never seen Easthies this bad—the last time he got this messy was during Silver Eve. His hair was still as graceful, but it was the tattle-tale of how much he was falling apart today.

“I was mean to you, wasn't I? Ignoring you like that… such a childish behavior. But I still called you a kid out of bitterness, didn't I?” He held onto your waist, pulling you atop of him as he fell onto the bed. You held yourself by playing your hands on the sides of the bedsheets that framed his neck.

Easthies pulled you further so you’d finally fall upon him. “I’m sorry, dearie… you know, I love you a lot, you're the most darling person in my life… yet I still…” his words tickled your ears, you could only giggle at it.

“Oh, smilling already, are we? I do deserve to be toyed with after that…” he grinned as you rose to then lie by his side.

“I’m not playing with you! You were tickling me by talking so close!” you begin to braid a random lock of his hair, of course he didn't mind.

“But now all I want is to be so close to you, my love…” he caressed your wrist, he still remembered how it seemed to redden when he released his grasp after that…

“That was the worst thing I could've done… now I'll only touch you like porcelain… ”

“You mean my wrist?” He nodded. “It barely hurt!”

“Whether it did or not is not our utmost goal here, love… I should never do that to whom I cherish the most, should I?”

“No…”

“Do you forgive me? Even my silence treatment…? Even you don't, dear, that's completely understandable-” you immediately hugged his neck tightly, he had to tap your back to be released and breath efficiently again.

“Of course I do! I like you lots, Easthies!”

“Oh, my darling girl. As for me, I don't ‘like you lots’, I adore you…”