#romatinc

Anon Request; “ Could I ask for headcannons of Zelda with an alchemist reader :>”

~xXx~

•Zelda and the Alchemist are like two peas in a pod, much to the dismay of King Rhoam and Link •at first they were hired on in place of Zelda’s scientific curiosities so the young girl could focus on her prophesized role, but that plan quickly went down the drain and the two were often caught staying up late nights with noses deep in books or out somewhere in Hyrule where they shouldn’t be •Zelda’s favorite thing about the Alchemist is that while their art is seen as pure magic by most, the true science behind it all gets her very excited •her alchemist partner will show her and even teach her the basics of alchemy, and in return the Hylian Princess allows them free roam and access to the royal library •seeing their face beam at all the wonderous books and knowledge they hold always gets Zelda feeling equally giddy •during hard times when the princess is particularly feeling down because of her consistent failure at awakening her powers, her Alchemist partner will make something especially magical for her •it might not fix everything, but the thought of it is what makes Zelda smile no matter how much her heart aches, and she wonders how she got so lucky to have someone so special

Bustling.

That's the pace at which we worked, side by side, day after day. 

I was one of the new girls. You'd been around for awhile. So you took time out of your day to help me. You smiled at my mistakes and laughed when I blushed.

Sweat dripping, grease sizzling, lettuce and tomato on our shirts. Mustard and ketchup stained our skins and the scars of burns lingered beneath the condiment camouflage. That was how we knew each other.  

But, the day you slide in a hurry and our eyes locked was when I knew you as something different. It was simple, work was busy and you needed to grab supplies. But along the way you grabbed my heart, too.

Now, time has hastened and you no longer need to help as much. I can fend for myself and I'm not nearly as new. You're there every time I step foot into the building. I'm no longer a foreign face, but a familiar one. 

You still laugh, just not at me.

Between the muttered "sorry's" sprung from misplaced hands or awkward situations due to limited space, we barley talk. 

However, I still watch.

I watch your hands as they do their craft. I watch your face, relaxed but concentrated, your brow slightly furrowed. 

The thought that you could be thinking about me as I stand, back to you, over the heat of the grill give me hope. It keeps my mind busy when time is slow.