badeni x reader. just indulgence, maybe multi-part.
it's not a secret that badeni likes you— that is, in relation to how little he likes anyone in general. no one in your village knows anything about him except that he's a scowling wandering scholar, and that you're the only person he's ever tolerated since his arrival. and if there's any indicator of that, it would be his not minding your presence while he conducts his research.
his back is towards you as he ponders and writes; piles of books and papers and ink establishing the extents of his boundaries. any step into that zone of processed tree bark and you'd get a lecture from him about personal space and the importance of focus in research. however, yours is a presence he tolerates more than most. the very fact that you're in the same room as him tells you so.
therefore, as to not disturb him, you too busy yourself with research. drawing your own conclusions; developing and revising models to fit your observations into. there's something to say about this anomaly here— or perhaps a slight change to your model might respond to it appropriately, but oh, it doesn't fit with this observation here— perhaps the earlier model does a better job— and then this might fit ther—
you hear in your head. at first, you think it came from you- maybe your brain had figured out an answer before your consciousness did. but the growling voice booming with ecstasy doesn't really sound like something your brain could produce. so you turn around and look at your fellow scholar.
"haha! i've done it again!" the screech of a chair follows his abruptly standing up as he holds a piece of paper like it's a newborn child. well, his brain did birth the ideas inked onto it. "nice job!" you congratulate him. with the amount of self-confidence he has, you're sure your voice is a mere squeak amongst the cheerleaders in his head. still, it's only appropriate for scholars to support one another— and you have an inkling that he would do the same for you, anyway.
before you could return to your work, though, he looks at you with a wide grin. his smile is an unsettling sight, coming from someone you've only known to be serious. but you don't let that show on your face. instead, you smile back, hoping to reflect his joy and illumination. he pauses— and in quick succession, says, "excuse me," before leaving the room. you can't help but chuckle when you hear him vomiting outside for the nth time today. you're starting to catch on that he does so after every major discovery— it seems like the man only has enough space in his stomach for truth. you remind yourself to offer him food after you're done with work.
the door creaks open with his return. "do you want to talk about what you found?" you ask, somewhat knowing his answer. as expected, he says, "nope," and the p pops with a smirk. "i'm not sharing this with anyone else." it's something you don't understand and probably never will— being a believer in sharing knowledge in abundance. but you play along nonetheless. "sure, sir scholar, i'll just have to find out myself then."
earnestly, he chuckles. almost like he's leaving the door open for you to enter his realm on your own. the chuckle hangs in silence for a second— and then, he approaches you, the hem of his shirt brushing your arm as he leans against your desk. it's all of a sudden that the atmosphere weighs heavy; the chuckle he left hanging dissipating in the air. sure, there's still a slight smile on his lips, but it's taut; as if something else now weighs on it. "i..." he starts. his uncovered eye conveying thoughts you only sense as melancholic. "i am grateful. that you do not pry."
you're shocked. honest gratitude from someone like badeni— someone who so self-assuredly keeps to himself— is something you never expected to receive. you don't want to ruin this moment, so you respond, "everyone has a story," casual in your tone yet careful with your words, "but that story is yours to tell. i'm just here... as a witness."
he pauses. looks directly into your eyes— into your soul. his eyebrow twitches in his hesitation, "you remind me of someone i used to know." and he leaves the room. his few words and abrupt departure furthered your shock. but somehow, you feel like you've just uncovered something; a significant part of his story that he'd shared with you. you sigh and look up at the wooden ceiling, wishing there were answers in it. there were none.
but you're content either way. with all the walls he's had up from when he arrived at your village, you could say that that he is slowly lowering them— brick by brick, maybe he'll gradually let you in.
discoholicmusic
theartofmadeline
tangentwithtanner
yousharknotpass
jbbartram-illu
dededos
