Please can I get Prince Soma x gn or male reader thatās a Phantomhive servant? ^^
Iāve been craving Prince soma stuff but heās so underrated </3
ā Prince Soma x PHANTOMHIVE SERVANT!READER ā
The first time Prince Soma notices you, it is not because you speak. It is because you donāt.
The Phantomhive Manor is never truly quiet. There is always movement, always something being done, servants passing through rooms with purpose, voices kept low, footsteps careful and controlled. And yet, somehow, you move through it all without being heard at all. You are simply there, completing your tasks with quiet efficiency, blending into the rhythm of the manor as if you are part of it.
Soma is not used to that. He is used to attention, to being greeted, spoken to, surrounded by presence. So when he realizes you have been in the room with him for several minutes without announcing yourself, he turns quickly, eyes wide with surprise.
āOh!ā he says brightly. āYou were here this whole time?ā
You pause mid-task, glancing at him briefly. āYes, your highness.ā
There is nothing remarkable in your tone, nothing that suggests you think this moment is important.
āThatās amazing,ā he says, completely sincere. āYouāre like a ninja.ā
You donāt quite know how to respond to that, so you donāt. You simply return to your work, leaving him to watch you with open fascination.
After that, he starts noticing you everywhere. At first, it feels like coincidence. Passing glimpses in hallways, brief moments where you appear exactly when something needs to be done. A door opened before he reaches it, tea prepared without being requested, small details handled before they become problems.
Then it stops feeling like coincidence.
Because he starts looking for you.
āYou again!ā he says one afternoon, spotting you across the room like heās found something exciting. āDo you follow me around, or is this fate?ā
āIām working,ā you reply simply, not even pausing.
He beams like thatās the best answer you could have given him. āThen I will simply work where you are.ā
From that point on, wherever you go, he tends to follow.
Soma is not subtle about it either. He talks to you while you work, asking questions without much regard for timing or relevance.
āWhatās your favorite food? Do you like music? Have you ever been to India? You should come, itās beautiful, I would show you everything.ā
You answer what you can and ignore what you canāt. He doesnāt seem to mind either way. If anything, he seems to like your quietness.
āYou listen well,ā he tells you one day, sitting far too comfortably nearby while you continue working. āMost people just talk over me.ā
You glance at him. āYou talk a lot, your highness.ā
There is a brief pause before he laughs, loud and bright and completely unoffended.
Somewhere along the way, something shifts. He stops treating you like a curiosity and starts treating you like someone important. He asks for you specifically, even when other servants are available. He lingers in rooms longer than necessary if you are there. He finds reasons, small and unnecessary, just to be near you.
āYou work too much,ā he says one evening, watching you move from one task to the next without stopping. āDo you ever rest?ā
āWhen my duties are done.ā
āThat sounds boring.ā
He frowns slightly at that, not dramatically, just thoughtfully, as if he doesnāt like the answer but doesnāt know how to argue with it.
One day, he finds you outside in the garden. It is unusual. You are not moving, not working, just standing there in the quiet with nothing in your hands.
āYouāre not working,ā he says, softer this time.
āAnd you chose to come here?ā
He looks around the garden like heās seeing it properly for the first time. āItās nice.ā
You donāt respond, but you donāt leave either.
After that, he becomes gentler with you. Still bright, still talkative, still full of energy, but more aware. He notices when youāre tired, when your movements slow, when your answers become shorter.
āYou should sit,ā he tells you one day, already pulling out a chair.
āYou say that a lot,ā he replies, not moving it away.
You hesitate before finally sitting. The look on his face is immediate, like heās just accomplished something important.
He starts bringing you things after that. Not grand gifts, not anything excessive. Just small things. Food he insists you try, flowers he thinks you might like, little trinkets that reminded him of you for reasons he cannot quite explain.
āFor you,ā he says every time, placing them carefully into your hands.
You never quite know what to do with them.
But you keep them anyway.
One evening, as the sun begins to set, he finds you again.
āYouāre hard to understand,ā he says, leaning a little closer than usual.
You glance at him. āSo are you.ā
He laughs softly this time, quieter than before. āThatās fair.ā
There is a pause, and then, more quietly, āI like you.ā
It is so simple that it takes a moment to register. No teasing, no exaggeration, no performance. Just honesty.
You donāt answer right away.
And for once, he doesnāt rush to fill the silence.
Being with Soma is different. He does not expect you to change, does not push you to be louder or softer or anything else. He meets you where you are. If you are quiet, he fills the silence without overwhelming it. If you are tired, he slows down. If you are busy, he stays nearby without interfering.
And slowly, without realizing when it began, you start doing the same for him.
One day, he takes your hand without thinking. It is easy, natural, like it was always meant to happen.
Then he pauses, looking down at your hands, then back at you.
āIs this okay?ā he asks, softer than you have ever heard him.
His smile returns instantly, brighter than before.
In a manor full of noise and constant movement, you become something steady for him.
And somehow, he becomes something warm for you.
