ricochet love

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry, Riddle!” You said breathlessly. “I know, I know, running isn’t allowed in the halls, but…we had a late start.”

Riddle gave you a quick once-over, expression flat but at least not angry. He sighed, handing you the container in his hands with a quiet, “These are for you.”

“Oh-?” You were able to open the container and spy a few homemade muffins before Riddle gently pressed against your chin.

“Chin up. I’ve told you before that you should maintain a neat appearance,” He murmured to himself. His chiding words were gentle, as were his hands as they freely adjusted the buttons on your blazer, straightening out the fabric where he could and fixing the way the collar of your shirt fell over the jacket. With deft, practiced fingers, he tied the ribbon around your neck too, stopping just before it constricted your throat. You swallowed when he leaned back half an inch to inspect his work, anticipating the way his face almost immediately darkened and he rushed to pull his hands away.

“Thanks, Riddle,” You said before he could stammer himself into embarrassment. He pulled nervously at his own shirt collar once.

“You should make sure to wake up on time…” He scolded weakly, voice trailing off before he cleared his throat. “I mean, ahem, the Queen forbids eating in class, so…you should finish those before it’s time to leave!”

He turned and left before you could respond, walking stiffly like a toy soldier. With a fond sigh, you looked at the box of Trey’s treats in your hands. At least Grim would be interested in this part of your story.

Trey - in the way he plainly lays out his intentions for you

Everybody depended on Trey, that much was obvious. The members of his dorm even called him mom on multiple occasions, only half-joking despite the grimace he tried to hide. It’s not like they were being entirely unreasonable, either - Trey was one of the most dependable guys at school. Yet who was there for him to lean on?

You, apparently.

You didn’t mind, of course. Through years of being the dependable one, Trey knew how to confide in you without it feeling like too much. Still, you noticed how he relaxed more and more, until he was no longer filtering his frustrations to you. Perhaps there wasn’t a genuinely mean bone in his body - just a bunch of tired ones, ones that yearned to rest in the solace you were happy to provide.

There was a funny domesticity to the whole thing that made your stomach twist in knots the longer you thought about it. Behind you, Trey was helping Grim through the last problem on his alchemy homework, the job you assigned to him to keep him away while you cleaned the last of your dishes. Perfectly in tune, Grim scampered away to put his paper with yours just as you pulled the plug in the sink and dried your hands. A moment later, you appeared behind Trey and let him lean into you, wrapping your arms loosely around the top of his chest.

“Thank you for helping him,” You murmured. “That’s one less thing I have to do.”

“It’s nothing,” He answered, and meant it. You were one of very few people he truly didn’t mind helping out no matter how many times you asked. “Besides, now that means I get you to myself.”

There it was again - something said so flippantly that made your heart do somersaults in your chest. Not quite knowing how far you could go, you leaned your head forward and placed the lightest of kisses to the top of his head.

“Do you really not know that I’ve been all yours since the start?” You ventured, keeping your face hidden behind his head even if he wouldn’t have been able to see you if you hadn’t. “It’s alright. I don’t mind reminding you.”

You weren’t sure how you’d get him to believe you for real, but he reached up and squeezed your forearm, and you knew you’d manage it somehow for a shot at this being real.

Cater - in the steadfast attention he gives you

Riddle looked about ready to blow a gasket, face red and sharp glare on Cater. Or rather, on Cater’s hand as he scrolled mindlessly through magicam.

“Cater,” Riddle said through gritted teeth, “Do I need to remind you of the rules to start an Unbirthday party? Put your phone away. Please.”

“Are we even going to start before the Prefect gets here?” He asked, unamused. Ace peered over Cater’s shoulder and made a face when he saw that he was looking through your magicam account. Not only was his crush making him moody, it was apparently making him a lovelorn sap, too.

Before Riddle could respond, you barreled through the entrance to the garden, out of breath and holding Grim by the scruff of his neck. He wriggled and shouted, effectively drawing everyone’s attention from the punishment that was about to happen before their eyes.

“SO sorry I’m late! Grim started a fire just before we-” You looked around you and saw a handful of tense first years along with a very angry Riddle. “Oh, is this because of me? I’m really, really sorry, I was going to tell you but I thought I could make it.”

“IT IS NOT - ah,” Riddle started loudly before catching himself and taking a deep breath. “It’s not your fault, Prefect. Cater here-”

“Saved you a seat!!” Cater interrupted, pulling out the chair next to him and eagerly patting the cushion. You gave Riddle a small smile before sitting, finally releasing Grim from your hold. A gray blur darted around the garden before ultimately ending up on your lap while you chuckled at something Cater said. His phone was nowhere to be seen.

Deuce - in how eager he is to please you

Deuce was determined to approach his new school life openly, honestly, and with more effort than anybody else in the student population. Becoming an honor student was an entirely new experience for him, so he figured it’d be best not to complicate matters with unnecessary mind games. For similar reasons, he took the same approach to how to deal with you, his very first ‘oh-my-goodness-the-prefect-is-totally-out-of-my-league-but-i-think-they’re-WAY-cooler-than-everyone-else-and-i-can’t-just-lie-to-them-so-i’ll-win-them-over-with-the-hidden-charm-my-mom-said-i-have-when-i-lamented-to-her-in-my-last-letter’ crush.

It didn’t help that on top of being insanely clever and tough and attractive, you were also totally smart. You didn’t even have magic and yet, if it weren’t for Grim’s scores bringing down your average, you’d easily be at the top of the first year class on every test. He HAD to take you up on your offer to study; he’d get to spend more time with you AND he’d get the best tutor in the grade to make his honor student dreams come true!

An unexpected outcome to this, though, was the immense pressure Deuce felt to impress you. What if he failed a test? You would be disappointed in him, right? Would you feel like it was your fault? Would you hate him forever and never study with him again??? The thought kept him up later than his worries about the test did, though Deuce would never admit it. (Ace might, if he ever got the admission out of him.)

His worries were for nothing, though, as he walked out of the room with a solid 86 earned entirely on his own. Deuce’s first instinct was to run down the hallway hollering in excitement, but he kept that inside in favor of waiting for you.

“So, how’d you do?” You asked as soon as you saw Deuce standing against the wall. You could see Deuce consider tricking you and saying he failed, but the excited bounce in his mannerisms gave him away. Instead he showed you his test, cheering with you when you loudly congratulated him. “I knew you could do it! All that studying really paid off!”

Ace, who had followed you out of the classroom and went entirely unnoticed, huffed and waved the both of you off. “Alright, lovebirds, just meet me at lunch,” He grumbled, gesturing for Grim to follow him. Deuce let him leave, instead relishing in your praise while he had it. Not for the first time, he considered himself lucky to be able to hold your attention for so long.

Ace - in how deeply he allows himself to feel for you

Ace wasn’t shallow, but he wasn’t exactly the deepest sea, either. He could understand many of the deep, complicated feelings his classmates often lamented, but he preferred to coast on the surface, floating cheerfully in his little bird-shaped floatie with a drink in hand. That is to say, Ace was usually much happier just accepting things as they were. If somebody didn’t like him, fine. If something was fun, do it again until somebody came around to ruin it. Then, move on to the next thing. Life didn’t have to be that deep - or, at least, his life didn’t need to be. It didn’t seem too fun down there anyway.

But then you reached up and pulled him down by the ankle, forcing him to sink to emotional depths he never bothered with before.

It wasn’t dark or scary like he was expecting. Actually, he was having fun with what he was experiencing. The way his heart pounded out of nowhere was close to an adrenaline rush, and the warmth that spread through his body wasn’t the worst thing. But he was definitely sinking, a pressure building on his lungs that was getting harder and harder to ignore. Would he acclimate? Would they burst? Ace didn’t know, and he found when he opened his mouth to ask he was only met with bubbles.

There wasn’t much of a difference between the way he acted before and after you turned his life upside down. Nobody really paid close enough attention to notice the way he held on to your hand a little longer while leading you around campus, or how his laughter faded out a little quicker in favor of watching you. When he allowed his thoughts to drift and he remembered there might come a day you have to leave forever - a day that could be just around the corner, for all anybody knew - a dark feeling settled in his gut that stubbornly stuck to his insides. There were little things he began to notice, little moments he began to collect, and they made him sink faster like pebbles in his pockets.But..being down beneath the surface really wasn’t the worst thing. Not if you were the one pulling him down.

Savanaclaw

Leona - in the ways he can’t quite play it cool

There were a lot of subtleties within Leona that you didn’t yet understand. It wasn’t for lack of trying, of course. You were simply still learning, and Leona proved to be just as difficult as you expected. He was guarded, everything he gave you was purposely an inch short of what you wanted, and what you were beginning to understand about him was telling you that he would never, ever give you a straight answer for any of your questions.

You only knew Leona for a few months, though. Ruggie has known him longer.

It wasn’t entirely your fault that you seemed to be grasping for hints in every direction. You weren’t even familiar with beastman mannerisms, so how could you be expected to dig even deeper than that? Ruggie, on the other hand, lived with lions for a while, and one in particular has been the main receiver of his attention for a while. Even without his knack for reading people, Ruggie would be an absolute fool not to notice how utterly hopeless Leona was when it came to you.

Leona’s ears were always perked up, one part of him alert even when the rest of him was dead asleep. Catching Leona unguarded was almost impossible, as his ears were always listening. Ruggie thought Leona was merely protecting what was his, making sure that when he helped himself to some of the prince’s items he wasn’t taking something Leona particularly treasured. What Ruggie was beginning to realize, though, was that they were listening for you.

Ruggie asked Leona about once, in a round-about way that they both knew was intended to preserve both their prides. Leona claimed he was merely bracing himself for the annoyances that trailed behind you at every turn, yet the way his ears lowered slightly, relaxed when you greeted him, gave him away.

More obvious than his ears was his tail.

Leona was not a touchy person. In fact, he preferred to be left alone entirely, whenever possible. The only person who could get away with even being close enough to touch him was Ruggie, and that was only when the only option to get Leona off the mattress in the morning was to push him off of it. You were the exception, as Ruggie was learning. You normally had his tail wrapped around your wrist like a bracelet, and half the time you didn’t even know it.

Ruggie watched with curiosity as you sat between him and Leona at lunch. That was another thing you could do - force Leona into rooms he normally wouldn’t bother with just with the promise of your premise - and a few seconds later, you had a tail wrapped around your back and resting on your lap like some sort of seat belt. Ruggie gave a breath of a laugh, looking away so Leona couldn’t prove exactly what amused him so much. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why Leona was so obsessed with keeping you close, so interested in making sure you couldn’t be taken away. You just hadn’t yet learned where to look.

Ruggie - in the things he shares

Ruggie didn’t have a lot.

There were lots of good things about him - he was hard-working, straightforward, more clever than he gave himself credit for (even on days where he gave himself plenty of credit). As long as you were not the target of his jokes, he was funnier than most of the people around him. The more you thought about Ruggie, the more you could decide was wholly good about him.

But, materialistically - so, in the way that mattered - Ruggie didn’t have a lot.

He neither hid nor flaunted that fact. It was just something everybody knew, to the point where every move he made was reasoned away with “he never had a lot.” Ruggie’s hunting in the kitchen for food about to go bad? He’s resourceful like that, because he needed to be. Ruggie’s running to and fro on errands others should be doing? Probably collecting IOUs for the next time he finds he needs something. Truth be told, the assumption got kind of annoying at some point - while he can play very easily with others underestimating him, it did settle uneasily that people associated him with lacking something. It was like someone rubbed his fur the wrong way; not the end of the world, but definitely not ideal.

Ruggie spotted you sitting against a tree one day and instantly sighed in relief at his search being over. He had a lull in jobs, a time slot saved just for you - but he walked like he was on a mission, just so that people would leave him alone. Efficiency, and all that. As he approached, you smiled at him before turning your attention back to a textbook open on your lap. With little grace, he dropped a few plastic-wrapped food items in your lap and stood in front of you, his shadow stretching past you and up the trunk of the tree.

Your writing stopped and you blinked at the food a few times. When you looked up at him, the grin on your face was wider than it had any reason to be. Ruggie briefly wondered which would weigh heavier on his mind: the idea that you wondered why he gave this offering to you because it might be all he had, or the idea that he just wanted to make sure you, specifically you, were taken care of.

You looked hungry, was all, and Ruggie knew how to fix that. But you didn’t need to worry yourself with the details.

Jack - in the ways he shys away from you

“You won’t be able to carry all of that,” Jack said bluntly. You peeked at him from the side of the stack of boxes, blinking as if processing his audacity.

Professor Crewel sent you to the botanical garden to fetch a few boxes for the next class’ lab. It seemed a simple job at first, until you realized the boxes were full of heavy bags of fertilizer. Still, you put on a brave face and tried to heft the boxes up yourself, only able to make it a few steps at a time before needing to take a rest. Jack, who had been in the garden checking on a plant for a project, had half a mind to leave you alone to struggle. But the idea didn’t sit right in his stomach, turning in a way that was worse than just disagreeing with his personal honor code, so he decided to offer his help.

In a…roundabout, unintentionally-so-yet-still-semi-insulting way.

Your arms gave out and the boxes fell to the ground with a thud that drowned out your sigh. “Okay, yeah, you’re right. Do you think you could give me a hand?” 

Of course he could. You knew he could. You did know he could, right? Jack lifted the boxes with ease and shook his head in disbelief, turning to the exit. “Lead the way, prefect.”

“Wow!” It took you a moment to marvel at his display of strength, your eyes practically burning the path your gaze took down his arms. After a moment, you scurried to match his pace. “Sorry, I’m just…always so amazed at how strong you are! It’s really impressive.”

You didn’t give him any time to embarrass himself with the visible shock that dawned on his face. With a soft exclamation, you ran to hold the door open for him, allowing Jack to collect himself for a moment. The only problem was his tail, wagging a mile a minute and showing no signs of stopping before he walked in front of you.

Just before he crossed the threshold, Jack stopped, pretending to adjust the boxes while willing his tail to at least slow down. It took longer than he’d like, but he eventually got it to a pace where he could pretend his tail was just swaying with the way he walked. 

When Crewel announced that the day’s class would be a joint session with some underclassmen, Azul tried to hold in his excitement. There was no need for Jade and Floyd to know that he immediately knew it was your class that would be joining his own (or rather, he didn’t need to confirm it with them, for certainly they already knew.) Of course, he made sure his uniform was prim and pressed, his lab coat spotless, his safety goggles loosened just enough that they wouldn’t leave an embarrassing outline on his face once the day finally arrived. As Crewel explained the experiment and mentioned choosing partners, Azul’s eyes immediately flew over to you - only to find you also looking right at him. Almost imperceptibly, you smiled and nodded before ducking your head back down to look at your notebook. A giddy warmth flooded through Azul, though he wasn’t certain if it was from you or the general prospect of being sought after for voluntary partner choosing. Wrestling with the thought distracted him for the rest of Crewel’s explanation.

The experiment went along smoothly. You were quite the bright student, and on the more difficult areas you knew how to follow his instructions well. Azul was ecstatic to answer any of the questions you had, eager to look intelligent and capable when you needed him. It was almost…easy, talking to you this way. Yes, the day truly did start as a dream.

But then you asked to see his notes.

“I know yours are probably more detailed and advanced, but I think I must have written something down wrong? I don’t know, I just…would appreciate it,” You explained almost bashfully.

Still riding the wave of feeling dependable, Azul didn’t even think twice. He slid his notebook over to you with what he sincerely hoped was a charming (if not confident) smile. “Certainly. For your stellar performance today, I won’t charge you in return.”

You laughed quietly. “Oh, thank you-” Your words cut off in a high pitch, and Azul looked down at his notebook.

He felt so confident because this unit was easy.

It was so easy, he spent the review sessions doodling in his notebook.

He was doodling your name in little hearts the entire time.

Almost instantly, the suave facade Azul worked so hard to create and keep began to shatter. A large part of him wanted to snatch the notebook away and offer to look over your own notes yourself. Another large part of him wanted to stammer out a pathetic excuse and curl up in a ball, never to show his face again. His brain short circuited with the radical options he was weighing - a moment later, he simply choked out a strangled cough and looked away, busying himself with reorganizing clean beakers. Azul was certain his face was beet red.

You didn’t say anything to him, an Azul couldn’t even tell if you were copying down his notes or if you had just left. You probably left. After all, now that you saw he was nothing but a child who drew hearts on his notes and woke up early just to make sure his already-perfect uniform was even more perfect, you definitely didn’t want to-

He felt the edge of his notebook tap his back, but he didn’t turn around. Other students began filing to their seats while some finished the experiment or cleaned up, so you did the same, pointedly avoiding Azul’s gaze. Grimacing, Azul steeled himself and picked up his notebook, scanning the page and planning on scratching every heart out.

Then he noticed, in the space made between two separate paragraphs, a brand new heart in blue ink rather than black. The sides were asymmetrical, and there was an attempt at some kind of minimal shading along the edges. In your handwriting, written in blocky print, was your name followed by ‘+ AZUL 4EVA’

Quickly slamming his notebook shut, Azul turned bright red again, hurried to his seat, and refused to speak to or about you for the rest of the day.

Jade - in the kindness he gives you, no strings attached(?)

Give me a free Mostro Lounge drink once, shame on you.

You thought it was strange, that much Jade could tell. At first, you insisted he got the wrong table, only to shrink back when he acted offended over your insinuation that he couldn’t do his job. Once he assured you that he meant to place the drink on your table and walked away, you stared at the glass for a long time, almost as if you were expecting it to move. Your furry companion looked from you to the glass before going off on a tirade Jade couldn’t quite hear, undoubtedly saying something about how suspicious he was. Ah, well. It wasn’t Grim he was trying to charm.

Give me a free Mostro Lounge drink twice, this is getting weird.

The second drink arrived less than a minute after you finished the first, taking both you and Grim by surprise. You looked as if you had something to say, but you remained silent. Jade simply smiled and assured you that you could beckon him over if you found yourself in need. This time, as he retreated, he knew you were watching him. This was a more entertaining game to play than he thought.

Give me a free Mostro Lounge drink three times, I think I’m silently agreeing to some horrible murderous plot and I need to find a way out of my fate NOW.

“No more after this, please,” You finally said once the third one came around, right as you were finished with the second one. Beside you, Grim looked as if he was physically biting his tongue, knowing that deals were frequently Jade’s goal yet pained at the thought of denying free food. Jade nodded.

“Were they not to your liking, Prefect?” He asked, taking the empty glass and setting it on his tray. You blinked up at him twice.

“No, they were fine, I just-”

“Just fine?” Jade brought his hand up to grip his chin thoughtfully. “I thought for sure they were catered to your tastes.”

“They were great, but- catered to my tastes? And how’d you know exactly when I was done with each one?” You finally looked him in the eyes, almost daring him to admit he was watching you the whole time. 

He was, of course. But why would he just tell you that?

“This is the second time you’ve implied I cannot do my job. Should I allow you to file a formal complaint?”

You fell silent, your gaze dropping to the table thoughtfully. Grim harrumphed at him, trying to intimidate him in your stead. A few tables away, Jade noticed someone debating getting his attention and promptly blocked them out.

“I didn’t order these. What will they cost?” You cringed at your imagined price.

“Nothing. On the house.”

“That is definitely a lie.”

Bending at the waist, Jade brought himself to your eye level and placed the tray in his hand on your table. His hand gripped the table’s edge, effectively trapping you in your booth. “Is it so hard to believe that I favor you so? I simply wish to keep you in the lounge. I quite like seeing you around.”

“You- what?” 

“Ah, but now if you decide you want another drink, you’ll have to ask me for exactly what you want,” Jade said, allowing his voice to drop teasingly. If you were flustered before, Jade wasn’t sure what to call this level of bashfulness. You were shrinking into your seat, eyes averted, trying desperately not to let him know that he had successfully planted the ideas he wanted to in your head. “Don’t let it scare you, though. If it’s for you, I don’t mind an extra expense or two.”

He left you then to tend to the other tables. Maybe now he’d be in your mind as often as you were in his.

Floyd - in the sudden predictability of his moods

There was a rumor floating around the open-air halls of Night Raven College: Floyd’s unpredictable mood swings were becoming, well…predictable! The student body was torn over how to react. Some were thrilled, as they thought dealing with Floyd became infinitely easier if one knew when to catch him. Others were terrified, for they were sure it meant the end of days was coming. As for the two closest to him…they were more inconvenienced than anything else.

There was one major trigger for Floyd’s moods anymore, and it was the Ramshackle prefect. If Floyd was with them, he was in a good mood, excitable and energetic and eager to do most anything if he could drag the prefect along on his adventures. If Floyd wasn’t with them, he was moping around campus. In truth, this didn’t make him any easier to deal with, not when his thoughts refused to budge from the magicless student.

Floyd didn’t care about the dirt he had kicked up. He just wanted to find his shrimpy.

Usually, he could find them lurking in their last class, or watching one of their friends do their club activities. Other times he ran into them by a stroke of luck. Sometimes, though, Floyd couldn’t find them at all, each spot he found without the prefect only worsening his mood. It usually ended with him giving up and collapsing in the nearest convenient place until the prefect came to find him. 

Which would explain why he was lying face-down on a bench with Jade and Azul standing behind it, one watching him in amusement while the other tapped his foot impatiently.

“How much do you think it would cost to hire the prefect to follow us around all day?” Azul asked, only half-expecting an answer.

“What position is opening? Would we employ them in the lounge? Or were you thinking you needed another assistant?” Jade responded. Beneath them, Floyd groaned out a disheartened, ‘Shrimpyyyyyyyy…’

Azul’s eyes followed the length of Floyd’s long body hanging over the seat of the bench on both ends. “That depends. Are babysitting wages higher or lower than those positions?”

Something caught Jade’s attention from one of the upper hallways. “Ah, this brainstorming can wait another day. Look who’s here to save the day again.”

Like an elastic band pulled too tightly, Floyd spun around and pulled up his knees so his legs were no longer stuck beneath the arm of the bench. After he crashed off the bench, he skipped merrily your way while Jade and Azul waved up at you. Not having seen Floyd leap into action, you walked to the concrete wall and leaned over, waving back cheerfully. Seconds later, Floyd ran up behind you and picked you up, laughing as Grim leapt off your shoulder to escape him.

Azul stopped Jade before he could move to join the two of you, holding out a small slip of paper. “Will you give this to him? Maybe he’ll be more productive now that they’re around.”

Jade smiled and bowed, both respectful and condescending at the same time. They both knew  the chances of getting Floyd to divert his attention from you was low. “Of course.”

Azul watched as Floyd swung you around for a moment, a part of him pleased that you seemed to enjoy Floyd’s company as much as he did yours. Jade approached the two of you and offered Floyd the list, briefly explaining something. After looking at it for a moment, Floyd ate the paper - literally ate the paper - before either of you could think to stop him, and Azul sighed heavily as he took that as his cue to leave.

Scarabia

Kalim - in the little ways he finds to be selfish

The light was quickly fading from the Scarabian horizon as the sun hid itself beneath the desert sand. The heat still clung to the earth, soothed only by the faintest breeze rushing in through the open-air lounge. Kalim leaned on the table in front of him, looking up at you with completely unhindered adoration as you spoke. His eyes were drawn to every little movement - your hands tousling your hair, tugging on your ear, gesturing gently in front of you. The way you shifted your foot, careful with the impact as you willed the pins and needles away. All the other Scarabia students had cleared the mess from the meal a while ago, leaving the both of you alone with a slumbering Grim. If Kalim had been paying attention to anything but you, he might’ve heard Jamil comment on how this was the longest he’s been quiet, ever.

To be entirely honest, Kalim wasn’t entirely focused on what you were saying. There were other things grabbing his attention: your movements, of course, and the soft melody of your voice. Kalim wondered if your ears were pierced, and which of the earrings he had would look best on you. They’d all look good. He’d have to give a few pairs to you before you left.

Whether you noticed he was startlingly quiet or just ran out of things to say, you eventually trailed off and stared at Kalim while he stared at you. He wasn’t subtle at all with his gaze, and it had long since stopped being unnerving. Clearing your throat, you watched him blink to reality before saying, “It’s getting late. Grim and I really need to go over the latest unit in Crewel’s class before tomorrow, so…”

“No!” Kalim suddenly said, sitting upright in a flash and grabbing your wrist. His grip was feather-light, but the panic in his eyes almost warranted a true emergency. “Uh, don’t…we don’t want to wake up Grim! He’s sleeping so soundly.”

“Oh, please,” You said, affectionately rolling his eyes. “The only person who can fall asleep easier than Grim is Leona.”

Kalim didn’t smile at your quip like you thought he would. Instead, his eyes darted around frantically, clearly searching for another excuse to keep you around. He didn’t know why he felt so urgently to make you stay, especially when you had things to do at Ramshackle. If he found out he was the reason you failed an alchemy lab, he’d feel absolutely awful. But he also wasn’t one to hold himself back from what he wanted, and what he wanted was to be plastered to your side at all times.

Or, at least, to spend another hour with you.

“Please stay,” He finally asked, settling his gaze on yours. “I really like talking to you.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” You tried to reason with a shrug. “If you keep me much longer, I won’t have anything left to say to you!”

“You could tell me the same story on repeat. I’d love listening to you all the same.”

He let go of your wrist then, propping his chin in his hands like a child awaiting a story. Kalim’s earnest words sent a nervous feeling fluttering in your chest. To hide your embarrassment, you turned your head away and watched Grim twitch his ears in his sleep.

“Maybe…Grim would appreciate the extra nap time, wouldn’t he?” You asked. Kalim clapped excitedly and scooted closer to you, your legs now touching. Trying to hide your embarrassment by clearing your throat, you asked, “Uh, where was I in my story…?”

Jamil - in allowing himself to fantasize

“This question is rigged against me specifically, you know.”

Jamil leaned to look over your shoulder, scoffing lightly when he saw in bold ‘WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN FIVE YEARS?’ “Even Kalim can answer that by himself.”

“Kalim doesn’t have his fate resting in the hands of Crowley,” You huffed, crossing your arms and leaning against the back of your chair. “I have no idea if he’s ever going to find a way for me to get home. When he does, do I get a choice to go through? What happens if he doesn’t? Do I have to stay here at the school until he figures it out, or can I just kinda wander the world with no idea how anything works?”

Jamil nodded, only half-listening as he scribbled down a few of the steps he used to solve the alchemical equation on his paper. The ‘show your work’ rule was more of a burden than a help for him, but he needed to get all the points he could if he was free to bring his averages up now. 

“What if I just write something completely crazy?” You mused, staring up at the ceiling. “Maybe I really do want to join a wolf pack or something. How would Trein know?”

All you got in response was a quick exhale, which was close enough to a laugh to satisfy you. “Seriously, though. Where do you see yourself in five years?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it,” You grumbled. Jamil let you fall into a thoughtful silence, glad for the opportunity to finish his own assignment in peace. Your ramblings were pleasant to listen to, but he still appreciated a moment to focus. “What would I have to do to be with you?”

Immediately, Jamil stiffened, pressing down with his pencil so severely he ripped a hole in his notebook paper. He didn’t let you ask what was wrong, and instead tilted his head so his hair fell over the side of his face in a protective barrier between the two of you. “Don’t say such careless things.”

For as much as Jamil found himself admiring your quick wit, he really wished you could have kept your mouth shut. “Oooo, how about I say, ‘In five years I see myself mooching off the riches of Kalim’s family while I figure out how to court his personal retainer.’ That’s not far more personal than Trein intended, right?”

“Quit it.”

“Maybe, ‘I see myself working alongside my beloved-”

“Stop.” Pulling his hood over his head, Jamil turned his body even more away from you and stared at his notebook. You had plenty more teasing remarks in your arsenal, but you laughed underneath your breath and decided to give him a break.

Jamil heard you writing a few seconds later, but he refused to look. He knew that if you could see his expression, you’d see something worse than embarrassment - a foolish smile at the mere thought of being someone important to you. When did you decide to get so bold all of a sudden? 

His lament was interrupted by a paper sliding over his hand. Glancing down, he had to will himself not to throw the paper back at you. There was no saving his pride with this one.

If I should be so lucky, I hope to be able to explore the homes of the friends I’ve made at NRC. I hope to visit the gardens of the Queendom of Roses, the evening glow of the Sunset Savanna, and the festivals of Scarabia….all with the people most important to me.

“Hopefully he understands that I have no government identity and am relying solely on networking to get anywhere after this,” You said with a shrug. 

“Looks good,” Jamil said quickly, sliding the paper back and still refusing to look at you. He didn’t want you to know that he was reading between the lines; whether from your teasing or your genuine intentions, he couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to take you to one of the festivals himself, to guide you through the crowds with your hand in his and nothing else to worry about except which stall to visit next.