Your Dads Hot
The lounge in Pomefiore was almost offensively pristine.
Not a cushion sat out of place. Not a book remained open. The afternoon sunlight pouring through the tall windows seemed to know better than to leave fingerprints on the polished floor.
Vil Schoenheit was seated on one of the sofas with a compact mirror in one hand and a fine brush in the other, carefully smoothing a touch of powder beneath his eyes. It was less because he needed it and more because maintenance was a habit. Prevention always beat correction.
The room was quiet.
It remained quiet for exactly three more seconds.
“Vil.”
“Hm.”
“…Can I ask you something?”
“You already are.”
Yuu wandered in further, dropping onto the opposite sofa with all the grace of someone who had absolutely no appreciation for expensive furniture.
Vil didn’t even look up.
“If this is about borrowing skincare again, the answer is still no.”
“It isn’t.”
“Hm.”
“It is… family related.”
That finally earned a glance.
“…Family.”
“Mhm.”
Vil shut the compact with a soft click.
“What is it?”
Yuu rested her chin in her hands.
“So.”
Vil waited.
“…Your dad.”
“…”
“…”
“…What about my father?”
“I think he’s hot.”
Silence.
A bird chirped somewhere outside.
Vil stared at her.
She stared back with complete sincerity.
“…Excuse me?”
“I think your dad’s really attractive.”
“…”
“…”
Vil blinked once.
Then very slowly pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I don’t know why I expected anything else.”
“I mean, objectively.”
“There was nothing objective about that statement.”
“No, like—”
Yuu gestured vaguely.
“Objectively attractive.”
“I understood what you meant.”
“Right?”
“No.”
“You don’t think he’s attractive?”
“I am not entertaining a conversation evaluating my own father’s appearance.”
“I mean that’s fair.”
Vil picked his mirror back up.
“I recommend dropping the subject.”
Yuu nodded.
“…Okay.”
A pause.
“So could you introduce me?”
Vil’s brush stopped halfway to his face.
“…”
“…”
“…No.”
“But—”
“No.”
“You didn’t even think about it.”
“Correct.”
“I could.”
“No.”
“I’d be nice.”
“I never suggested otherwise.”
“I’d make a good impression.”
“I’m sure you would.”
“So—”
“No.”
She sighed dramatically.
“I feel like you’re being a little selfish.”
Vil lowered the mirror.
“…Selfish.”
“Yeah.”
“Explain.”
“You’re keeping all the attractive genetics to yourself.”
Vil closed his eyes.
“…”
“…”
“…Yuu.”
“Mhm?”
“I want you to think carefully about what you’ve just said.”
“I did.”
“That concerns me.”
She leaned forward conspiratorially.
“I mean seriously.”
“He aged incredibly well.”
“I know.”
“…”
Vil looked at her.
“You know?”
“I looked him up.”
“…”
“You what.”
“I looked him up.”
“I heard you.”
“You have interviews together.”
“I am painfully aware.”
“I watched them.”
“…”
“You watched them.”
“Mhm.”
“…Why?”
“I got curious.”
“You became curious enough to research my father.”
“Yes.”
Vil inhaled slowly.
“…How many interviews?”
Yuu looked up thoughtfully.
“…Seven?”
Vil looked physically pained.
“I learned he embarrasses you.”
“I am aware.”
“He seems funny.”
“He thinks he’s funny.”
“I laughed.”
“That doesn’t help.”
“He called little-you dramatic.”
Vil sighed.
“I was.”
“He said you once reorganized your toys by color.”
“I did.”
“You’ve been like this forever.”
“Yes.”
She grinned.
“I think that’s adorable.”
Vil ignored that entirely.
“So.”
“No.”
“You didn’t even let me ask.”
“I know exactly what you’re going to ask.”
“What if you don’t?”
“You wish to meet my father.”
“…”
“…Yes.”
“No.”
“What if he wants to meet me?”
“He doesn’t.”
“You don’t know.”
“I know him.”
“You don’t know the future.”
“I know enough.”
Yuu slumped back.
“You wound me.”
“I intend to.”
She crossed her arms.
“I think he’d like me.”
Vil looked almost offended.
“Based on what?”
“I’m charming.”
“When you choose to be.”
“I’m funny.”
“Debatable.”
“I’m respectful.”
Vil gave her a long look.
“You entered this conversation by announcing my father was attractive.”
“…”
“…That’s fair.”
He returned to fixing his makeup.
“I fail to see how this concerns me.”
“It concerns you because you’re the connection.”
“It doesn’t.”
“It literally does.”
“It literally doesn’t.”
“I can’t exactly stumble into him.”
“I sincerely hope you don’t.”
“I could.”
“No.”
“I believe in myself.”
“I don’t.”
She rested her cheek on the arm of the sofa.
“What if I accidentally met him?”
Vil didn’t answer.
“What if.”
“I would apologize to him.”
“For what?”
“For whatever you inevitably said.”
“I’d be polite.”
“You’ve already failed that standard.”
“I’d say ‘Hello, Mr. Schoenheit.’”
“Hm.”
“‘It’s nice to meet you.’”
“Hm.”
“‘Your son’s very pretty.’”
Vil nodded once.
“Acceptable.”
“‘You’re also very—’”
“No.”
“’—handsome.’”
“No.”
“‘Very handsome.’”
“No.”
“‘Aging beautifully—’”
“No.”
“‘Would you perhaps—’”
“Absolutely not.”
“’—like coffee?’”
Vil slowly set the brush down.
“Yuu.”
“Yes?”
“You are one sentence away from being thrown out of this dorm.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
“You’d wrinkle your uniform.”
“I can have it cleaned.”
She smiled.
“So that’s not a no.”
“It was several no’s.”
She watched him in silence for a moment before speaking again.
“…Can I ask one more question?”
Vil looked suspicious already.
“…Go on.”
“Has anyone ever told him he’s hot while you were standing there?”
Vil’s expression flattened into something almost exhausted.
“…Yes.”
Yuu blinked.
“…Actually?”
“I have worked in entertainment since childhood.”
“…Oh.”
“My father is an actor.”
“…Right.”
“There have been fans.”
“…”
“There have been extremely enthusiastic fans.”
“…”
“I was present.”
“…”
“It is not an experience I recommend.”
Yuu winced.
“…Actually yeah, that sounds awful.”
“It was.”
“I forgot about the celebrity thing.”
Vil gave a single nod.
“Most people only remember once they’re confronted with it.”
She rubbed the back of her neck.
“…Okay.”
“So maybe I won’t ask him out.”
Vil stared.
“…That was still under consideration?”
“I was weighing my options.”
“There were no options.”
“I’ve narrowed them down.”
“There never were any.”
“I’ll just admire respectfully from afar.”
Vil looked almost relieved.
“…An improvement.”
“I still think he’s really handsome.”
“I gathered.”
“And I still think you should introduce—”
“No.”
She groaned loudly enough to echo off the ceiling.
“You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I think you’re gatekeeping.”
“I am.”
“Wow.”
“I make no apologies.”
TAGLIST: @soramcduckahyucky
