#eskel fluff

Your feet were up on the wooden counters. Your hands were gripped tightly onto the shelves; nails digging into the grains there.Yet, you could still not reach the jar of cinnamon on the top shelf. The Keep was built for giants. That was simply the only explanation there was. 

“I can do it myself, thank you very much.” You could not keep the pout from your lips if you tried. You would make yourself a cup of hot cocoa with a nice garnish if it was the last thing you did. 

“Please don’t hurt yourself.” 

Ignoring the witcher, you turned away from Eskel and continued your climb. It was just barely out of your reach. If only you had a little more to your height or something to step onto. There was the bottom shelf of course, but it was a little high off the ground for your liking. 

“No,” Eskel began before you even lifted your foot. “My sweet sparrow.” He reached up to the top shelf with only the slightly leaning on the tips of his toes. There was barely a struggle for him. He didn’t even have to scale any of the countertops. “Here. Is this what you desired?” 

You snatched the jar of cinnamon from his hands and crossed your arms. From here, you could look down on him. It was amusing to see the top of his nose for once. Or the part in his hair. He looked different from here. Smaller. Cuter even. You saw the appeal. 

“Can I get you down now?” 

“I quite like it here actually. I might just stay up here.” 

“Enjoying the views from up there?” Eskel hugged your legs and laid his cheek against your chest. He peered up to you through his lashes. You had never noticed how long they were or the way they curled up like a swish of a paint brush. 

It was difficult to hide your smile, especially from Eskel. “It’s very nice. Have I ever told you how handsome you look from up here? I should hang around here more often.” 

“Please get off the counter before you hurt yourself,” he pleaded. “I’m afraid I’ll forget about an open window and the breeze will blow you away.” 

It was instinctual the way you smacked him over the head. The wince that he gave you was playful, the offended look on his face dimmed by the smirk tugging the corner of his lips. “Oh, please,” you remarked. “I’m a fully grown human, you know. A breeze will not take me away. Really, I belong here.” 

Eskel kept grinning up at you. “Really?” 

You nodded. 

“Well, what about a storm?” With that, he picked you up off the countertop and began spilling you around in circles in the kitchen. His legs worked quickly, his footwork that of a dancer’s. Around and around and around you went until you were dizzy with it. 

“Put me down this instant!” You giggled, smacking him in the shoulder. 

Eskel settled and gently placed you back on the floor. He peered down at you with the softest of expressions. A fire with slowly burning embers nestled by ash was the only accurate comparison you could make to the look on his face. 

“I think you belong here much better.” 

“On the ground?” You raised a brow at that. 

“In my arms.”

*****

There was a lot that was stored in the Keep: old tomes in long forgotten languages, trinkets from far off regions, and coins from long past civilizations to name a few. You adored looking through the old storage rooms after training in the courtyard. Who knows what treasures you might find in the dust? 

The other witchers may moan and groan at having to clean out the rooms once a season, but you enjoyed the process. There was so much to see and look through. Like, for example, this amulet that you had come across in an old chest with a picked out lock. It was such a brilliant blue like the color of the sea near the shore. It shone with an internal light that just made you want to hold it close to your chest. 

“May I have this?” You asked Eskel and by extension Vesemir who was dusting shelves nearby. 

“Let me have a look at that.” 

You handed over the necklace to the old witcher, watching the way his eyes looked it over. Vesemir was cautious in his observations. He held the amulet close to his chest and when his medallion didn’t hum, he returned the necklace to your hand. 

“If it’s cursed, it’s a fairly harmless one,” Vesemir summarized. “Won’t kill you.” He shrugged and returned to his shelf. 

“Oh, that’s lovely.”

“So, I’ll be taking that.” Eskel snatched the necklace from your hand before you could clasped it around your neck. 

“What the hell, Eskel?! I found it first.”

“Mild curse, remember?” He held up the amulet to prove his point. The moment he did so, a ray of light from the stone like summer sunshine over a running river. Where one moment ago stood a scarred witcher, the next he was gone. 

“Eskel!” you screamed, rushing over to where he once stood. 

“My boy!” 

There, on the stone floor stood a very disgruntled witcher with his arms crossed over his chest. Only, now he was the size of a forefinger. 

“Mild curse?” came Eskel’s voice from the ground. “Mild? Is it going to wear out on its own or will I need to travel to find an anecdote?" To make his point, Eskel walked towards you on very little legs. By the time he climbed up onto your shoes, you could tell he was even more angry than before seeing as it took him a solid two minutes to do so. 

“Oh, Eskel. You’re adorable.” You bent down and picked him up by the collar of his shirt so as to not hurt his little form. “You’re like a doll, darling.” 

There didn’t seem to be any damage to his physical form. It seemed that all the amulet had managed to do was reduce his size. Eskel was still able to use his magics and his strength was relative to his size. He could lift silverware and trinkets, and even an empty tankard if he really, really tried. The biggest damage was that to his pride. 

Personally, you thought he was adorable. Eskel had always been good looking. The board shoulders. The brown hair. The smile that had your heart beating like a desperate pounding and your face flushed like a summer’s noon. But like this, he was just darling. He was so little he could fit into the palm of your hand and have room to spread out his arms and legs. Much to his dismay. 

“It’s really not harmful,” Vesemir repeated for the umpth time that day. “The amulet could have done a lot worse. There’s one laying around somewhere that would’ve given you a monkey’s tail and bat wings. We would have to cut those off of you.”

“I think you’re perfect like this.” You placed Eskel down on the dining hall table and brought over a sweet bun from the kitchen. “I mean, just look. Who wouldn’t love a bun twice the size of them?” 

Eskel tore off a crumb. The sugar crystals were the size of his palm now. He did have to admit that was nice. “Is this what you have to manage everyday?” 

“I could crush you under my thumb and we’d be none the wiser, my love.” 

The threat did nothing to deter the shit-eating grin on his face. He ate his crumbs of sweet bun and crossed over the span of the table to where Vezemir was telling to the hearth. “How long do you think this will last?” 

Vesemir sighed. “Another hour? The night? Daybreak? Who knows?” 

You giggled. “Oh won’t that be lovely, darling?” 

Eskel rolled his eyes. “You are enjoying this far too much for my liking.” 

“Taste of your own medicine is what I think it is. You deserve this, my love.” 

Eskel went back to you. He placed his small palm on your forefinger and peered up into your eyes.  “I was not this eager, my sweet sparrow.” 

“Horseshit.” 

Vesemir chuckled, audible and swine-like. “I’ll leave you two to it.

*****

Evening arrived with the brisk wind of the season and Eskel was still no taller than an inkpot. He had not grown in the time that had transpired and there was no signs that he would begin to do so in the coming hours. With that in mind and really nothing to do but wait, you decided that it was simply time to get ready for bed. 

“Oh, may I please, please carry you in my pocket,” you begged the small witcher with stars in your eyes and a quiver to your lips. Had you not already been sitting down, you would’ve gotten on your knees and pleaded. 

“What’s wrong with me being on your palm?” 

“What if I dropped you?” you replied, making the gesture with your hands. “You’d surely be hurt by such a fall. It is much safer if I had you in my pocket.” 

Eskel was skeptical to say the least but when you opened up your hand for him to step on, he did so without complaint. He climbed into the top pocket of your tunic and used your collar for support lest he falls. 

“Come morning, if you’re still this size I’ll make you a teaspoon of porridge." You began scaling the staircase to your quarters, making sure to even out your steps so Eskel was not shaken too much in your pocket. “Or would that be too much for you?” you teased. “A proper feast for my darling witcher.” 

“Well, are you able to finish a spoonful or do you get full with only a taste? Otherwise, I’ll have to fill a thimble for your breakfast.” 

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “You’re one to talk when you’re this size. You make it out to be as if I were a mouse or some small fae. I’ll have you know, Eskel, that I am of a perfectly average s—!” 

There was a shift in the air as if an oncoming storm had overtaken the skies. One moment you were turning the corner towards your room, the next you were stumbling downwards face first towards the floor. Yet instead of landing on the unforgiving stone of the Keep, you were met with a much more forgiving chest.

“But you fit right into the palm of my hand.”

“Oh bugger off. I was having a grand time and you had to go and ruin it.” You pouted up at Eskel. His arm was a comfortable weight around your waist as you raised yourself up to look at him. “I preferred it when you were small.” 

“When I was your size?” He smiled, touching the tip of your nose with his forefinger. 

You swatted his hand away not unkindly. It was hard to hide the grin tugging on the corner of your lips like strings to a marionette. “You were more fun when I could fit you into my pocket. “

“I prefer being like this much more.” He held you tightly and you couldn’t help but hold him back. 

“You’re lucky so very lucky I love you.” 

‘Not cold yet. Probably didn’t leave long ago.’ Eskel thought to himself. He could wait for you to come back, but… not on such a cold night- and on midwinter’s eve no less. So slowly the Witcher sat himself up, rubbing his hand down tight scars as he tiredly looked around. 

You knew better than to go outside the keep at night or into the cold without proper protection, so for now, his worry was minimal as he stood and shuffled toward the door. 

‘Hm… their shoes are missing, but not their coat’ he observed as he shuffled towards the door, glancing at his swords in consideration before continuing to pass them by.

Cold air rushed over him pleasantly as he stepped into the stone hallway, looking hopefully back and forth for your returning food steps. Yet all was quiet; even the rats that scurried these halls seemed not to stir in the dead of such a cold winter’s night… so why on earth were you? 

Quietly, Eskel padded through the halls, bare feet on centuries-smoothed stone leaving no trace of sound as he made his way toward the kitchens, hoping to find you there. 

All the places you could be hiding ran through Eskel’s head as he walked, ‘the great hall, the kitchen, the lab, or maybe you were out in the stables with Lil Bleater..?’ 

Endless considerations and the beginnings of worry passed through Eskel’s mind as he found the kitchen empty, only a few dirty pots and pans that Lambert had neglected to get to the day before lay occupying the room.

‘You knew better than to do outside’ The Witcher assured himself once again as he turned toward the great hall. He was just about to press open the adjoining door when a muffled ‘bahhhht’ came from the room beyond. 

“…. Lil Bleater..?” he whispered to himself, and quietly pushed open the door. 

Cold air blasted him- even colder than before- as if the main doors had been open for some time, yet now they sit closed assuredly in all thanks to you. There, beneath the everlasting pine you had insisted on dragging into the hall,  Lil Bleater jumped and danced with abandon as you sat amidst the small, modest pile of gifts. 

Eskel watched, the ice of worry melting away from his heart as he watched you search around for a gift, only to pick it up and shake it gently. 

“What do you think it is, Bleater..?” You whispered to the kid, who bleated softly in response, her neck sticking out to get a taste of its wrapping paper.

“Hey now, we can’t unwrap them yet…!” You laughed and shook it again, “I don’t hear anything rattling.. so it’s either soft or it’s packed really well.” You frowned as you looked it over, “which it could be either when it comes to Vesemir….”

Lil Bleater bounced around as she gave you her two cents, finishing off her obviously ground-breaking revelations by ‘subtly’ turning her lips toward your tunic.

“Hey, stop that, Bleater. I already gave you what I had in my pockets, they’re empty now; you should know, you just checked 3 minutes ago..!”

Eskel couldn’t help but laugh, his joy and love echoing off the walls and around the wide open space before quickly landing on your ears.

You yelped in surprise as you quickly dropped the wrapped gift, your nerves burning like fire as you quickly jumped up and brushed yourself off, “I wasn’t doing anything! I just- oh! Eskel..! Darling…! I was just, uh… making sure everything is in order for tomorrow morning,” You fumbled through your lie. 

Your Witcher could only grin, eyebrow raised, “Is that so? With Lil Bleater’s help…?”

You grinned and nodded, “Precisely! Actually when I got here she was already inside, I think she pushed the main doors open and didn’t close them again,” you said with a fond smile and you leaned down to scratch between her little horn nubs,” my guess is that she got cold and Scorpion kicked her out again.” You laughed softly.

Eskel nodded, knowing at least that much was the truth, and smiled, “Well I’ll let you continue making sure everything is in order… but just do you know… Lambert sometimes likes to gift people his homemade fireworks. So if you hear something rattle,” he paused ominously, “maybe be careful….” He grinned a bit, and waved, turning back toward your warm shared room.

Your eyes widened as you looked down at the gifts, the next one you were going to shake being the very one belonging to Lambert. “Um..! Actually..!” You said, your feet quick to follow after him, “I think everything is good here, why don’t we all head back to bed together, hm?” You suggested as you took his arm and slipped your hand into his. 

‘Bahhhht’ Bleater yelled in agreement, no longer caring who heard her as she trotted along behind you toward her new warm resting place. 

Eskel only laughed, his lips pulling into a lopsided smile as he pressed a kiss to your head, “I agree.”

________

Witcher Taglist: @writingmysanity @novigrad--dreaming @madamemelancholysstuff @dark-academia-slut @beardedladyqueen @valandhirwriter

“Sweetheart, eat,” you ordered softly, glancing at Eskel out of the corner of your eye. He was just staring down at his bowl of stew, spoon untouched, while you organized jars containing the medicine for his wounds.

He was almost completely healed, his face marred with deep, angry red scars but the fear of infection gone now. After four months, you’d gotten close to the witcher, quickly falling for him. But you knew he was just here until his injuries were healed, before he could go back on the Path. As much as it pained you to let him go, you expected it would have to end at some point.

Eskel blinked, eyes focusing back in on you as he watched you work. It was hard to eat when he felt so sick to his stomach at the idea of you kicking him out soon.

He knew it was coming. His face was healing, and he couldn’t stay here forever. Why you kept him around as long as you did, he wasn’t sure. But seeing you prepare the salve for his scars, packaged up for him to take when he left, felt like a sharp pain in his chest every time he thought about you kicking him out.

He was used to being taken care of, now. Eating meals together, often curling up beside each other in front of the fire at night, you calling him ‘sweetheart’ and ‘baby’, tenderly soothing his scars with your salves like they weren’t something to be afraid of—

How was he going to live without this?

“Eskel?” you brought him out of his thoughts again, a look of concern on your face.

He forced a smile on his face, ignoring the way it pulled at his lip in a way he knew made it look like a grimace. An ugly, horrifying monster, that’s what he was now. “Sorry, not very hungry.”

You sighed, abandoning your work and taking a seat beside him. You placed a hand on his forehead, sliding your palm down to cut the left side of his face as you observed him carefully. “You feel a bit warm… are you sure you’re ready to leave tomorrow?”

He nodded, the last thing he wanted to do. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay… maybe you should go rest, love.” You wished you could protest, insist that he stay, but— he wanted to leave. You couldn’t make him stay.

“Yeah,” Eskel agreed, ignoring the way his heart fluttered at the endearment. He rested his hand on top of yours, pulling it off his face and squeezing it gently before he stood.

You swallowed at you watched him head towards the bedroom, wishing you just had the courage to tell him how you felt.

Meanwhile, Eskel laid in your bed and wrapped himself in your blanket, breathing in your scent deeply and willing back the ache in his chest. Who would want him looking like this? He knew the chances of someone like you loving someone like him would be slim beforehand, but now— you deserved better.

After an hour or so, you finished packing up a bag for him to take in the morning. You wished you could go with him, watch out for him while he was on the Path. A witcher could use a mage, but he didn’t ask you to go with him.

You put a few more logs in the fire, gathering up an extra blanket to take to Eskel before you would go to sleep. But upon walking into the spare room, where Eskel slept since you brought him in, you were surprised to find it empty. You immediately panicked, thinking he might have left early. Wouldn’t he at least say goodbye?

A low snore caught your attention, the noise coming from your own bedroom. You quietly opened the door, letting out a relieved chuckle at the image of Eskel buried under your blankets in your bed, hair mussed as he slept soundly. You knelt down, brushing an errand strand of hair away from his face, memorizing every detail as this would be the last time you had the chance.

He was beautiful. You didn’t think too much about what he must have looked like before the attack— it didn’t matter to you. The face he had now was the one you felt most familiar with, the one that already felt like home. You wouldn’t change a single thing. But more than that; he was gentle, and kind, and as much as you wish you could have saved him from the pain, you are thankful to that striga for bringing you to him. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Eskel’s eyes fluttered open, and he sucked in a breath at the sight of your face so close to his. Your eyes widened, an apology on your lips before he smiled, that warm crooked grin you were so in love with.

“Hi,” he whispered, something in the way you were looking at him making his heart beat faster. Like you didn’t see a monster, like you were looking at someone you… loved.

You smiled back, deciding then and there you weren’t ready for him to leave. And if he left, you would go with him. “Hi. Eskel, could I… would you want me to join you on the Path?”

The grin slowly left his face, Eskel swallowing audibly. “I would love that.”

“Yeah?” You felt a spark of courage, licking your lips before you continued, “Because I… really care about you. I don’t want anything to happen to you again. I-I love you.”

You held your breath, waiting for his reaction. Eskel just stared for a few moments, not sure what he just heard. The scars on his face burned, reminding him of all the reasons someone like you would never want him, yet— here you were. Offering to be with him, take care of him.

Then he saw your face fall, a wash of sadness and rejection evident. He quickly reached out and grabbed your hand, not about to miss his chance.

“Yes! Yes, please. I want you to be with me. I-I want… to be with you. I love you, too.”

It had felt like eons since Eskel had spoken, and the bitter silence was nearly driving you out of your mind with madness. Every so often he would grunt hoarsely, reaching down to focus instead on tying yet another loop of bandage around your abdomen. The scowl on his face told you he was upset - but you knew it wasn’t with you. No, you knew your Witcher too well to miss the sorrow that dipped the corners of his eyes as he wiped the last splashes of Wyvern blood away from your throat. How gentle his strokes were despite the action, how tender his fingers were against your pulse as he tipped you back to look at him.

‘Eskel-’

‘I’m not angry.’ He frowned, quickly and unsightly, but not with malice. More to let you know that he was ashamed of himself for giving away his feelings so easily. For making certain now, that you would worry over him when it was you all the realm’s focus should be on. 

You raise an eyebrow, trying to raise a grin through the pain. Once he finishes wiping away the last drops and drops the rag back down onto his satchel, you sigh in relief at the feeling of Eskel’s warm, broad palm just holding your chin within their safe grasp. Despite the strength of his fingers splayed against the bottom of your jaw, he knows that you’ve noticed how much they’re shaking.

‘I know you too well to know that you’re angry’, you begin to drawl, reaching out with your unbruised hand to brush the back of your fingers against the twisted knot lying on his lip. ‘I also know, that you’re blaming yourself for this. Which is complete poppycock, Eskel.’ He flinches at your touch, still so vulnerable. His golden eyes gaze steadily into your own, though, even through the tears that begin to muddy their sombrely scrunched depths. ‘And I won’t stand for it.’

‘But it was my fault. Y/n.’ He grabs your hand, drawing it away from where it was tenderly and familiarly beginning to trace down the outline of his scar. He instead raises it to his lips, kissing the back and curling it within his own. He rests it against his cheek as he opens up his other arm, offering himself up to you.

You gladly accept, scooting down from your perch and instead resting clumsily on his lap, settling against his racing heartbeat. His hands tighten around your waist, dropping your still intertwined hand onto your thigh. He’s so gentle, so careful not to move you to much as he positions himself back against the tree trunk so you’re resting properly upright. So delicate, as he shifts you against his leather trousers, that it nearly breaks your heart. ‘It was my fault that you were here. I knew I should have left you safe within the inn, instead of allowing you to follow me into the wilds. I was - I was careless.’

You can feel his chin shake against the top of your head as he continues. ‘I....’ he swallows thickly, before taking in a drawn out breath. ‘I could have lost you. And then I would have lost all the best parts of myself. Not even a Witcher can survive when they’re left with just a husk, Y/n. And I was stupid enough to think I was smart enough - I was skilled enough to never let it happen. How foolish I am, and I... I’m so sorry.’

‘Eskel, if I hear you apologise one more time I swear I’m going to Lil’ Bleater loose on you once we get back to Kaer Morhen.’ He laughed at that, hands wringing tighter around your midriff. But he still laughed, and the sound was the most divine noise the path could have ever brought you. 

‘You know, I’m more afraid of Lambert’s reaction if he finds that little devil loose in his room again than I am of the two of you put together.’

‘I don’t doubt it. His swearing rant was enough even to make Vesemir run out of the keep’, you giggle, simultaneously lighting your heart in relief at the soothing tone the grumble of his voice has taken once again. For a moment he’s silent, until you realise the pressure you feel against your back is no longer solely the feel of his armour’s spikes, but the press of his large ear against the dip of your spine. 

He’s listening to your heartbeat, breath evening out in time in a way that makes you believe he’s trying to match his own to yours. He does this often, although he’s too embarrassed to admit it. He likes to slow his rate, mixing the sound with your own until it feels as though one march. One joined parade of lovers, one sole beat, one indication that he could ever live the life of a normal man. Eventually, he will straighten himself back up. He’ll press a kiss against the back of your neck, a lingering one full of compassion and hope and diligence, before resting his forehead back against your hair.

He’ll say his usual musings when he becomes lost. ‘Perhaps’, he’ll whisper into the swift jasmine mist of the night, ‘I will keep you here forever. We can live among the sunflower stalks, and make pomegranate wine and look up at the stars.’

‘And be happy forever?’, you’ll finish, biting your bottom lip. 

‘Hmm’, he’ll reply, sounding far too much like Geralt to make you believe this dream could ever come true. That he could ever escape his fate, and that you wouldn’t become entangled within its clutches. ‘Yes, happy and in love forever, my sweet dove.’ 

His nose will brush against your pulse point as you lean back to kiss him. ‘Sounds like a fortunate life to me, my dear Witcher.’ There will be no more tears today - no heartache, no loss, no foraging for coin and shelter and kindness, no hiding. Just pure adoration, rolling out like basking sunlight from the radiant Witcher wrapped around your back, grasping onto you as if terrified that life will suddenly tear you away.

The shit had started that morning. You were lying in bed, trying your best to enjoy your morning before everything got started. It was Valentines day, and for once you actually had someone you really wanted to spend it with. Eskel and you had both agreed that you didn’t want to go out. Restaurants too crowded with people, and normal date spots much more likely to have unwanted company. So you decided on a nice dinner at your house. He was going to bring an entrée and you would provide sides and dessert. You had made all the sides in advance last night so you could tackle your main rival today: Macarons. You’d made the finicky cookies before, quite successfully- though for every success you’d probably had two failures. You’d known Eskel long enough now to know of his not so subtle love for sweets, and you kept your macaron making knowledge a secret to pull out for a special occasion to impress him.

This seemed the perfect opportunity, and your gentle giant of a boyfriend would be worth every frustration along the way.

Having hyped yourself up to start baking you got up out of bed, only to open the bedroom door and step out onto utterly freezing hardwood. Cold air blasted you in face and goosebumps instantly pebbled on your arms. Quickly grabbing a robe to wrap around yourself you padded over to the thermostat. It was set for 70 but it was only 58 in the house. Perking your head up you focused, trying to hear the tell tale rattling of the furnace from the air vents. Only silence greeted you.

The furnace was out, great. At it least it wasn’t projected to be too terribly cold today you thought as you went about morning chores, getting animals and yourself fed. Then it was on to tackling the heat issue. It was times like these you were grateful for having an old house, as in the basement across the room from the furnace was a wood stove. That could keep the house warm until you could get someone out to fix the heating. You went over to the pile of wood next to the stove kept for such emergencies and easily stacked and lit the wood in the stove. Satisfied as the flames eagerly licked the dry kindling, you closed the stove door and headed back up to start your work in the kitchen.

As you began looking for your scale and other ingredients you could smell smoke, a good indication that the fire was catching well and the house would be toasty again in no time. Then the smell got stronger… and stronger. You perked your head up from the recipe on your phone, peering out to look down the hall. The door leading to the basement had tendrils of smoke crawling out from underneath it. You threw your phone down on the table and dashed back down to the basement.

Smoke plumed out of the door as you flung it open, taking the stairs two at a time to get to the basement floor. As you looked through the smoke-filled haze you could see that nothing had caught on fire. Instead smoke was coming from the stove, flowing into the house instead of the chimney. As you reached the stove you experimentally touched the chimney, it was just as chilly as the floors upstairs, confirming your suspicions. It was plugged up. You searched around for something to put out the fire. A lone dehumidifier caught your eye from the back corner. Its indicator light, stating its bucket was full and needed to be emptied, having been ignored for quite some time. It was not ideal, as putting a ton of water on the flame could cause the stove to crack, but you really didn’t have any options. Rushing you grabbed the bucket out of the machine and opened the top of the stove, dumping its contents inside.  

Steam erupted from the hole, the wood charred, and the fire doused. You went to breath a sigh of relief; however the smoke and steam filed your lungs causing a coughing fit. A minute or so passed before you could breath again, now starting back at square one. No heat and no plan B. To make matters worse you had to open the basement windows to let out the smoke, letting more cold air in. Propping open every window and even placing a fan by one, you looked forlornly at the defunct furnace. Trying your best to see if you could bullshit your way into fixing it. It was after some scrutiny that you noticed a small switch to the side of the furnace, close to the ground, had been switched off. You leaned over to examine further, noting some kitty cat paw prints were in the dust by the button. Gingerly you flipped the switch back on, almost leaping back as the furnace came alive once more.

Irritation settled in your bones as you trudged along back upstairs. Now stinking of smoke, eyes and lungs irritated beyond belief you tried once more to continue baking. You had finished your meringue and were preparing the flour and sugar when you noticed that your little shit of a heat hating cat—who would usually be begging at your feet by now, was no where in sight. He had been a stray found by Eskel, whom you had immediately taken in and declared he was now Eskel and your son. He was also a massive food pit and would pester you incessantly when you were in the kitchen for any period longer than five minutes. So his absence now was noted.

It then occurred to you that you had opened the windows in the basement for the smoke. The very much screenless and at ground level windows.

How much can go wrong in an hour? Grabbing your coat, some shoes and cat treats you went outside. An hour and half later both you and the cat were finally back inside, of course not before it had started to rain, however. With your heat, cat and windows now secure you get back to the recipe, specifically starting it over.

Time went quickly and the tedious nature of the cookies plus you frazzled state caused you to be a bit sloppy with your baking. Sugar getting everywhere and at one point knocking vanilla extract off the counter and all over the kitchen.

You almost cried at that point, but papa didn’t raise no bitch and you WERE going to see this through. Finally you had your cookies in the oven and even though you did everything right, the tops of them started to crack.

Great, just great.

At least they’ll still taste okay, you thought, trying you best to power through baking and frosting them. At last they were finished, and you sighed looking out at the mess of both yourself and the kitchen.

Today was cursed, you were sure of it. Either you could be alone and happy or in a relationship and miserable. No in-between.

Somehow you cleaned the kitchen and showered, but the wear of the day being one event after another dragged your shoulders down to rest—just for a moment.

            They gentle eyes of the your “stray son” peered at Eskel through the window as he walked up to your door. He was honestly really excited, sure he had gone out for Valentines before, but never like this. Never with someone he loved. Someone that loved him enough to know he would rather stay in and be fancy at home, rather than try and keep that pretense out in public. He was excited to have you try his soup. He hadn’t been sure what to make, but he wanted to impress you, and it was still cold enough for soup. He was picture the two of you curled up on the couch, cozy, some show playing on TV but neither of you really paying attention because the other was close. Or at least that’s how he always felt around you. Like he couldn’t focus because time spent with you, not paying attention to you was time wasted.

            He knocked on the door gently, when several minutes passed and no answer he re-arranged the container in his hands to open the door. You were probably just in the shower or had headphones on. He had accidentally (and sometimes purposefully if he was being honest) scared you because you were so engrossed in what you were listening to. He couldn’t really help it though, you were so cute when you were flustered and tried mock scolding him afterwards.

            Eskel made his way into the kitchen, noticing the faint scent of wood smoke in the hall. He opened the fridge to place his soup inside while he searched for you, when something light blue caught his eyes. He eyed the cookies up and down for a second. He wasn’t sure if you had bought them for tonight or for something else but…..

            Eskel grabbed two of the sweets, putting one in his mouth as he went to search for you.

            ……. You knew better than to leave sweets out when we was coming over.

            Eskel made his first stop at your bedroom, concern furrowing his brows a moment when he didn’t hear the water running. Only to then hear the soft sounds of you sleeping behind the door. Eskel gently opened up the door. Your cat being ever the opportunist rushing in as it opened to come and jump on the bed. You were on your stomach, hair sprawled out around you, the scent of you hair products wafting up as he got closer. A smile tugged further and further up his face as he noticed you hadn’t even gotten out of your robe yet. You must have fallen asleep after your shower before getting ready.

            Eskel set the cookie in his hand down on your nightstand and leaned over, his hand brushing against your cheek as he kissed your temple.

            “Y/n…. Y/n babe wake up” You stirred quietly shoulders jostling a bit before you pried open your eyes.

            “Esk? What? Shit what time is it?” You turned and tried to clumsily sit up but Eskel placed a firm hand on your shoulder.

            “ Doesn’t matter now I’m already here. What’s up are you okay? You’re not really a post-shower nap kinda girl.” Eskel smirked trying to get you to smile as well, but it quickly fell when he noticed your frown deepen.

            “Yeah I know I just…. I… Everything was just” You struggled to articulate what was going on and instead fell back into the bed, arms crossed over your eyes as a small whine escaped you.

            “Hey, hey it’s okay, you don’t need to tell me anything… Just… come here.”

            Eskel quickly discarded his jacket and climbed into the bed, opening his arms for you. You immediately accepted, wrapping around him and squishing your face into his neck.

            “m sorry I ruined Valentines.” Eskel could make out your mumbling into his skin.

            “You didn’t ruin Valentines” You pulled back from him slightly, the vibrations from him speaking just a bit too much.

            “But I’m all mopey and junk.” You frowned looking into the bit of his chest peaking out from his V neck. A shirt you would bet money he only wore because he knew you loved them on him. Eskel leaned back further, an arms detaching from your side so he could bring his hand up. Gentle fingers pulled your chin up to look at him. Soft, kind eyes, tan skin and a look of total adoration greeted you.