#william solace

You froze mid-rant.

The silence that followed was somehow worse than the embarrassment itself.

You hovered near the door, fingers still wrapped around the handle like it might save you from spontaneous combustion. The infirmary felt too bright all of a sudden. Too quiet. Too aware of you.

Will leaned against the desk, arms crossing loosely over his chest. “So,” he said, casual, voice warm, “you usually announce your romantic frustrations to empty rooms, or was I just lucky today?”

You groaned and let your forehead thunk lightly against the door. “I thought it was empty. Kayla always kicks people out when she’s doing paperwork.”

“Yeah, she does that,” he agreed. “Which makes this even better.”

You turned slowly, squinting at him. “Better?”

He shrugged, clearly enjoying himself now. “I don’t normally get dramatic declarations about wanting a teen romance directed at me. It’s a nice change from people asking if I can magically fix their love life.”

Your face felt like it was on fire. “It was not directed at you.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, unconvinced. “Felt a little personal.”

You crossed your arms, defensive. “I was venting. I just watched two people practically make out on the infirmary steps.”

“That’s bold of them,” Will said. “Kayla hates that.”

“Exactly,” you said, then paused. “…Wait. Why are you in her chair?”

“Because she told me to run tests and said, and I quote, ‘Don’t touch my stuff or I’ll hex you.’” He smiled. “So naturally, I touched all of it.”

You snorted before you could stop yourself.

He noticed. His smile softened, eyes brightening like he’d won something.

“There it is,” he said.

“What?”

“You smiling. Way better than the dramatic barging-in thing.”

You stared at him. “You’re…flirting.”

“Am I?” He tilted his head. “I thought I was just being friendly.”

“No,” you said weakly. “This is flirting.”

He stepped closer, not invading your space—just enough that you were painfully aware of him. The scent of sunlight and something herbal clung to him, probably from whatever he’d been working with.

“Well,” he said lightly, “if I were flirting, I’d probably say something like—” His gaze flicked over you, quick but intentional. “—it’d be a shame for someone this cute to feel so tragically single.”

Your brain shut off.

You made a noise that wasn’t a word.

Will raised his eyebrows. “Too much?”

You pressed a hand to your face. “I’m going to combust. Like. Actively.”

He laughed again, softer this time. “Sorry. Occupational hazard. Apollo kids tend to overdo the charm.”

You peeked at him through your fingers. “You do realize I came in here to complain about not having a romance, right?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Irony’s kind of incredible.”

You dropped your hand. “Kayla is never letting me live this down.”

“She doesn’t have to know,” he said easily. “Quest rules. Confidentiality. Healer’s honor.”

You hesitated, then slowly walked further into the office, perching on the edge of the counter. “So… she’s really gone?”

“Unfortunately,” he said. “Which means you’re stuck with me.”

You met his eyes. “I think I can survive that.”

His smile turned just a little more intent. “Good. Because the infirmary’s a surprisingly solid place to start a teen romance.”

You swallowed.

Maybe—just maybe—you’d barged into the right room after all.