#zeno fluff

Hazy golden sunlight danced through the windows, showering the living room with gentle autumn light. Peeking outside, the world looked picturesque, the trees with hues of red and orange, hints of yellow and brown leaves adorning deep brown branches, as well as gracing the sidewalks with their cozy shades. Decorative pumpkins were outside of almost every house, adding to a sense of autumn magic floating about the air. Keeping it in a sense of elevated beauty was the auburn light hitting just about everything, producing a gentle feeling that was inexplicably and indescribably nostalgic. Perhaps nostalgic of pumpkin picking as a child, when the pumpkins were almost as big as you, or decorating them with family. Perhaps it was picking up apples and making apple pie, the scent of sugary, buttery cinnamon filling the house, or the scent of apples crisp and warm, making you anticipate warm apple pie with a bit of vanilla ice cream. Autumn nostalgia, awakened by crisp leaves and cozy atmospheres. 

Pacing the living room, you checked your watch, getting a little anxious of the time. Zeno had gifted you the watch, (despite your wishes, seeing as you never use watches, but he insisted) a beautiful F.P Journe watch, very much out of your budget range. To note, Zeno gave you plenty of things, most of which were designer. The outfit that he’d gifted you, a rusted orange turtleneck from Fendi, with black leather pants from the same brand. Snakeskin boots were also gifted to you, specifically from YSL and a golden necklace with your initials on it. Upon receiving this from him, amongst other gifts, it always managed to make your head spin. Not to say you didn’t like his gifts, but he always mentioned he loved accentuating your natural beauty with clothes and accessories, always commenting on how you make everything look good. 

Running your fingers over the fabrics, you couldn’t help but blush, thinking of his simple yet genuine compliments to you. He was always very honest, but not in a way that was blunt or hurtful. Contrary to the rest of his family, whom you’ve met, he was quite kind. He was a true, old fashioned gentleman, the classic Sunday drives and long walks on the beach, gentle genuine words, slow dancing to old music, bringing you flowers and walking you home. For a man of his stature, he had a gentleness to him that was rarely found anywhere else, or in anyone else. 

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the doorbell ring until you heard knocking on your window, making you jump a little and spin around, studying the face outside. There was Zeno, hands behind his back, a small but knowing smile meeting your eyes as you smiled in return. 

Moving to open the front door, you could hear him hum in content seeing you in the outfit he’d gifted you. 

“Hello, Y/N...splendid as ever, I see.” he mused, gently studying you over. 

You beamed in response, unable to hide the warmth the compliment gave you.

Letting out another content hum, he extended his arm to you, silently offering for you to take it and walk with him. Taking him up on his offer, you gently take his arm and close your front door, locking it behind you and walking forward towards the car with him. 

After a 30 minute car ride, full of casual easy flowing conversation, you arrived at the entrance to a park, the orange leaves of the trees once again mixed with the golden afternoon light making you gasp quietly. Zeno had come out of the car as a butler had opened your door, allowing you to hop out, barely hiding your excitement. Coming into view was a carriage, with black horses strapped at the front. Watching the carriage get closer, Zeno had come beside you, taking in the surroundings and you as well. Turning to him, he had produced a small bouquet of deep orange dahlias and yellow vervains, wrapped in brown tulle with a white ribbon. 

Always the charmer, Zeno.

Sticking his arm out to you again, you took it as he walked you towards the carriage, helping you up and getting you settled into the seats. There were some large leaves on the floor of the carriage, and some orange and yellow lights on the rims of the carriage, making for a gentle spectacle. Settling himself next to you, he raised his hand, and the carriage took off at a slow pace. 

Admiring the scenery around you, your hands idly played with the flowers, running your fingers over the petals.

“Tell me, y/n, how is work?” Zeno asked, his eyes not leaving the trees as they passed by.

“Oh it’s alright, I did some overtime this week…” you replied, glancing at him.

“What for?”, he came back, not missing a beat.

“Money… I have rent due next week, and other bills to pay.” you muttered, suddenly feeling sheepish.

“Tell me next time. I’ve already covered it.” he hummed, looking at you now.

“Zeno...that’s hardly necessary…” you pleaded (although pleading with him about any affair that involved you and money always ended quickly, seeing as he was always willing to cover whatever your troubles may be, no matter how minute.)

Zeno only chuckled and patted your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“You say this as if it’s a trouble to me, a nuisance. The only thing that troubles me is having to remind you that it isn’t, yn.” he stated, full of reassurance and kindness. 

“Thank you, Zeno…” you whispered, feeling your face burning. 

Conversations continued, about work and bills, school and your family, about trinkets and wonderful new sweaters and jackets that he’d be picking up for you (to which you attempted to insist that he didn’t need to), continued on to speak about him and how he was doing, and all the delicate intricacies of life. Having so lost in conversation, you hadn’t realized he’d ordered the carriage stop as he gestured outward past you, causing your sentences to fade into the sight before you. 

You’d stopped at a lake, crystal water reflecting the now setting sun, turning the water a fiery yet subtle gold, the sun slowly sinking beneath the waters, gracing the sky with its hues. The trees surrounding the lake enhanced the beauty of the scene before you.

You’d stepped out of the carriage with the help of Zeno, and left you briefly to stand and admire the lake, a chaste autumn breeze kissing your face. 

Hearing the start to one of his favorite songs, you smiled. He had a knack for finding perfect yet unorthodox spots for dancing. 

You turned slightly, knowing he’d be next to you, a soft smile on his face, his hand out stretched, inviting you to take it and dance with him.

His hand always find itself on your waist, the other holding your own. His eyes always look sharp, but in moments like this, they’re far off, thinking and wondering, lost in moments of romance and perhaps of past memories. His soft, knowing smile was the only indication that he was happy, in those far off thoughts, consistent in quiet, tender instances with you.

“You know, y/n” he started, and you could only giggle, knowing what he was coming to tell you, earning you a look from the weathered assassin. Times like this is where he told you a phrase so worn but so loving, it was hard to believe he was as dangerous as rumored to be. “You know, I’ll feel your hands on my shoulders. Gentle, gentle. I hear you when my tea is ready, and I feel you when I fall asleep. I see you. Everywhere, everywhere, y/n of mine.” he hummed, earning him a telltale blush from you, no matter how many times you’d heard it, coupled with that song that was ingrained in your mind, your heart, along with Zeno himself and his ways.