(*´ω｀*)

caleb is 20 when he's about to leave for the DAA. there's an air of silence around the house. you've trapped yourself in your room more often, stressing over your senior finals. at least, that's what you've been telling him.

"i'm sorry caleb, i really need to study for this test."

"oh! i totally forgot about that project i had due tonight. shit, i'm sorry caleb. we'll have another movie night soon, okay?"

he doesn't know if you're actually this busy or if you're actually ignoring him. all he does know is that he misses you. he wonders about how he could miss someone who was in the room across from him. you were so close, but so far.

when you found out he was leaving—though you had a grin on your face while congratulating him—caleb knew you were devastated. he wondered if you were secretly mad at him for leaving.

two weeks before his departure, he practically forces you to be around him. he laid down next to you like before. he stroked your hair while you napped on the couch. he teased you and picked you up so you could hit him and grab him like you used to. he always chose to put his arm around you during a movie. he dragged you by the hand all around the neighborhood. he needed to all of that again, a thousand times more.

but at 24, it seems like there may have been a wedge between the two of you. calls are more and more infrequent.

"sorry, space signal sucks," he'd type.

"sorry, i was busy with training!" you'd reply, 2 days later.

he thinks that he would do anything to go back to before. he hasn't felt you in months. he sees you only twice a year.

it's hard. it was excruciating during the first few weeks. not only was he dealing with bootcamp, but he always found himself looking to his side, thinking you'd be there with him. at night, you were there, right next to him in bed.

he imagined that you would whisper words of reassurance in his ear. you'd hold onto him like you used to, when you had nightmares, and wrap your legs between his. there were days where we stroked his necklace, wishing that it was your hand instead. what he would give to have you next to him.

all he wants is to be able to feel you again. he chastises his 10-year-old self for taking you for granted back then. he wants to feel the apples of your cheeks when he caresses your face. once,—when he was 13 (you, 11)—he did that, and he thought you had a fever the way you warmed up. if he could, caleb would build a time machine to go back to that.

caleb is 25 when he is out of your life.

he thinks about you every day. it reminds him of when he was in bootcamp five years ago. it takes him back to when he was fifteen; you were on top of him, and his brain was fried to a crisp. caleb wonders if he's always been this way, because he can recall that at ten, you were still the only thing consuming his mind.

even during his arm repairs, you're there throughout all the pain.

when you discover his metal arm, all of caleb's instincts point to the door. he's spent so long trying to hide it from you: it's the constant long-sleeves (even though they made him incredibly uncomfortable), or making sure to only touch you with his left-hand (even though he wanted to pull you in with both hands).

but he stays. because it's you.

you freeze momentarily, listening to his writhes and moans of pain. caleb only notices you're there when he feels your hands brush his shoulder. he jolts back in surprise, and he sees you looming over him.

he stammers something, not even sure of what he said because you're here. you see him. you see it.

caleb's wanted this for so long. he wanted to see you again, in a state where you were both vulnerable, like old times. however, that moment probably wouldn't have come if he doesn't confess about this, so he relays the details.

you listen attentively, eyes wide with shock as caleb goes on. your hands wrap around his metal one, and he feels nothing. it's agonizing. he sees you examine him so gently. your fingers trace over bolts and plates of metal, lightly stroking up and down his arm. and caleb feels nothing.

how often has he dreamed of this? for you to be touching him again, so intimately and softly? he's stayed up countless nights wishing for you to be here, just so he can put his arms around you in a crushing embrace, only to be incapable of feeling you on one side of his body.

you pull away from his arm, asking if the fleet was accountable. when he doesn't say anything, he feels your weight lift off the bed and go towards the door.

whatever happens next is involuntary. he uses his flesh arm to pull you back, caging you between his forearm and his chest. there's no thought to it, no rationalization. it's just you and him. and he's been deprived of this for so long.

he breathes into the crevice of your neck, and he has half a mind to place his entire face there. he wants to breathe you in after being away from you for so long. no conversations, no contact, no touching. the last time he was this close to you was years ago. he needs this, caleb thinks.

the feel of you against his bare chest is something he cannot seem to describe. it's like he's his teenage (or even kid) self again, where he seems to short-circuit whenever he comes in contact with you. you're still small compared to him, but you fit perfectly like you did a decade ago.

he lets you go after he feels you trembling. you don't hesitate to place your hands on his waist and tackle him onto the bed. you catch him off-guard as you pin him beneath you, looking straight into his eyes.

"hold me," you plead, "with your right hand."

caleb lets out a shaky breath. there are voltages of electricity flowing through him—literally and figuratively. his skin sparks alive when he feels you. will it be the same with the metal arm?

slowly, caleb raises his mechanical arm. he wraps it around you, and feels the movement of your back shift downwards. you released a breath you didn't know you were holding. caleb held his.

you wait patiently before caleb starts running his metal hand up and down your back. you watch him exhale as he continues. you press your forehead on his, and you breathe in tandem with him.

caleb is 25 when he discovers that he loves physical touch.

wow like i didn't expect this to get so long... but like here we are???

i think we need to start embracing touch-starved caleb in all of our fics. this man hasn't seen the love of his life in YEARS (infrequently, anyway) so i think once she touches him (like INTIMATELY) for the first time in years he goes a little cray.

It was a rough day. A negotiation that Sylus needed to get done didn't pull through as the moron representing the offending faction decided to get flustered and pulled out a gun at him, voiding the deal and thus resulting in a gun fight.

The situation was dealt with easily enough, but the cleanup needed his attention particularly because they had several protocores that he was aiming to acquire and wasn't going to leave without them. Alas, as they refused to make it easier for everyone involved, they had to waste not just his time but his ammo as well as his perfectly cut suit.

Sylus landed on the couch with a groan, relief finally flooding his bones as the tension in his body started to dissipate. He wasn't bleeding any longer, but the aches remained, a dull thrum consistently buzzing so much that it prevented him to experience the relief of sleep.

While the fog enveloped the N109 Zone to obscure it from the wrath of the sun, the instinctual yearn for daylight annoyed him. The mere ghostly memory of the sun on his skin made him purse his lips, the mere thought of it sapping his already drifting energy.

He turned his head, buried it into the pillow-

He blinked, propped himself on his good arm as he stared at the pillows. Gone were the hard blocks of stone that posed for a pillow that he just never bothered to replace, seeing as he was in pain often enough that the uncomfortableness of them barely registered to him anymore. What sat under and beside his head were soft, the slight fur on the covers lightly tickling his cheek as it cradled his head, rapidly easing his throbbing headache.

Long fingers flexed, his brows furrowing when softness once again surrounded his senses.

There was a thick blanket beneath him, separating his battered body from the worn and cold leather of the couch.

Now, Sylus is a perceptive man. Being observant of his surroundings and having the ability to react accordingly is part of his job description, his lifestyle. One misstep, a single moment of carelessness, and he could end up dead.

He was sure these pillows and blanket were not here before he left the house no less than eleven hours earlier.

"Sylus."

He turned, alert eyes softening at the sight of you, drinking up the image of you in one of his long-sleeved button-ups that hung over your significantly smaller frame, your hair mussed in multiple directions.

A lazy, crooked smile adorned your face as you hummed his name, your eyes still drooped with sleep. The adorable crow plushie was cradled lovingly in your arms.

You took your time to cross the room, loved the way he settled back onto the couch as he watched you, those wonderful scarlet eyes not once leaving you. You accepted his outstretched hand, your laugh softly lilting in the air when he pulled you into his embrace.

"Hi," you purred, your body molding perfectly into his.

"Good morning." There was a tenderness in the room, blanketing the both of you as you cuddled on the couch. You cherished moments like this. It's not so often that Sylus would get home when you wake, and while you know that your beloved wasn't all too fond of the mornings, you also know that the man made sure to make time for little moments like this despite his busy schedule.

"You changed the pillows," he muttered, his deep voice rumbling as he nuzzled into your hair.

"Did I?" You kissed his exposed clavicle, trying to hide your smile.

"You did."

"Maybe the twins did it."

He snorted, his fingers digging into your hips before massaging it as his other hand fiddled with the leather that held your knife strapped to your thigh. "They would've have bought a vibrating couch before they get to the pillows."

You laughed. "That's true."

A beat of silence. Just two lovers laying on a couch, sharing whispers and secret laughter as the sun rose far beyond the N109 Zone.

It was peace.

Oh, if only that peace lasted.

It's been a few weeks since that little moment on the couch, and Sylus couldn't fathom how they went from there to where you were at this moment.

He sat on a stool on the kitchen, watching you clean what seemed like the eighth room in the manor and you didn't have any indication of stopping soon.

None of them knew why you were in such a frenzy to clean, but you knew it was important do it Right Now. He offered to help you, of course, after having a quick round with him arguing that you should just leave all the cleaning to the staff, seeing as that's one of the primary reasons why he hired them in the first place.

"Sweetie," he said, exasperation leaking into his usual smooth voice. "If you keep at it any longer, I'm gonna have to clean you up from the floor."

You scoffed, hissed when he tried to grab the mop from you. "You better sit your ass down before I dismantle all of your guns again."

"Oh?" His voice, sickly sweet, as he trailed the tip of his fingers up your neck, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "Will you, now?"

Your eyes glinted, lips curling into a menacing smile as you passed the mop to your other hand, completely dodging his attempt to take it from you as you pressed your body sensually to his. Deft fingers from your now free hand lightly tapping playfully against his chest. You crooned. "You know I will."

A stare down. Something not too uncommon between the two of you. A pair of strong, stubborn people unwilling to yield.

Most of the time.

"Alright," he conceded. Sylus knew, even without peering into your desires, that you will not budge on this matter. So he sat, admitting full well that this isn't an issue that's worth having an argument over.

It only took one look from him to shut the twins' guffaw from the other side of the door. He could ignore the snickering, however.

"This is like the third time she cleaned this room," Kieran whispered to his brother.

"Fourth," supplied Luke as he enjoyed the way their boss was sulking at the counter. He didn't look like he was sulking, Luke knew that full well, but he just had that feeling. "You were too busy buying detergent when she cleaned this last Monday."

"Ah."

"Hm."

"Maybe she's nesting or whatever."

Luke hummed, shrugged. "Maybe."

Sylus was a man of composure. Not even the most lethal of situations are able to get a rise out of him, and even if it did, no one would be able to tell from his perfected poker face.

That was the only reason why he didn't fall out of his stool.

Could you be pregnant? But you two have been so careful, so sure that the both of you have done the necessary things to have safe sex. But it wasn't impossible, he knew. It was also possible for non-pregnant women to exhibit nesting behavior. Surely, you'd tell him immediately if something was amiss or... if you were experiencing some symptoms.

Children, huh? He didn't think he'd be a great father. If anything, he'd be a horrible one considering the simple fact that he brought danger with him anywhere he went.

He was hard lines and violence, bloodshed and death. The sins that he's committed - and will commit - was unfit for a father. A good father.

But... he supposed it would be nice to have children running across the house. His and your kids. A physical manifestation of your love.

It's not that he needed to have a mini version of himself. As far as he knew, he never had any inclination of even desiring to have them. That avenue of conversation hasn't opened up between you too, either. He didn't know if you even wanted to have children.

Children with him.

And he wouldn't mind it if you didn't want them. They were a commitment, not just some playthings to be discarded once the novelty wore off. It would take a lifetime.

Yet... It's a nice thought.

"Darling?" It was well into the night. You and Sylus were already snuggled up in bed but you knew something was off. Ever since your little event in the kitchen, Sylus has been drifting, sometimes zoning out into space. It was very uncharacteristic of him.

So you waited. He'd tell you eventually.

Yet you have to admit to yourself that you can be impatient.

Those eyes of his, momentarily dazed, focused on you. The room was dark, the steady thrum of the air conditioner droning in the background. And still you felt his eyes on you, focusing, focusing, his arms pulling you in closer to his body.

"Yes?"

"What's wrong?"

Of course you'd see it. Not that Sylus even attempted to hide it, seeing as you'd peer through him eventually. You waited for him to speak, frowned when you felt the spiking of his evol. "Sy?"

"Are you pregnant?"

You sputtered, pushed up from your position on the bed. Your hand quickly tapping the button for the lights.

Warmth illuminated the room as you stared into his eyes. You thought he was joking, thought he was pulling your leg, but the emotion that stormed his eyes moved you, surprised you.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Sy." There was distress in his voice, something that you thought you'd never hear. "My period finished a few days ago."

He closed his eyes as he let that information sink in, nodded. Released a breath. "Okay."

"Sylus." You nudged him, urged him to open his eyes. "Sweetheart, what brought this on?"

Sylus sighed, feeling as though the energy was tapped from him. Well, there was no reason to beat around the bush on this. "Kieran mentioned you might be nesting."

For all the time you've spent with Sylus, you knew that man rarely blushed. But the pink that dusted his cheeks and ears endeared you, the heartbeat that you loved listening to spiking.

"I'm sure, Sy."

"Right."

He didn't know if it was relief he felt as he held you, fingers kneading into the dip between your hips. He sighed. Gave you the smile that was only reserved for you.

"Why did you change the pillows?"

You tilted your head, smiled back, leaned down to kiss his nose. So it came back to the pillows.

"I wanted you to be comfortable whenever you collapse on the couch."

"The plants?"

"This place is stuffy without them."

"And the cleaning?"

"I don't like the way the staff cleaned our house."

He stared at you, those gorgeous garnet eyes of his looking at you with a mix of adoration and complete and utter confusion. He blew a breath.

"I was overthinking, then."

"You think so much all the time, I'm surprised it's taken you this long to short circuit."

"I didn't short circuit."

"You don't have access to seeing your expressions, darling."

You laughed when he pinched your sides before your hands slip up and cupped his face. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know." His voice dropped down an octave as he trailed open mouthed kisses from your shoulder to your neck. "I guess that's why you're making me insane."

You snorted. "You never needed my help with that, dumbass."

He nipped your neck, nuzzled. "I love you, too."

"Mm." But you took his hand, pressed it to your stomach, stared deep into his eyes. "Do you want to have children with me, Sy?"

Your eyes were impossibly deep that he couldn't look away. Couldn't even think of attempting it.

"Yes."

Straightforward as ever, Sylus is. You blew a breath.

Swung your legs over him and straddled him in one swift move.

"Maybe we can start trying now, then?"

-0-

this has been running in my brain for days and i just had to write it asfsdg

check out my other sylus fluff fic!

Sylus blinks the sleep from his eyes to find you straddling his thighs, a smirk in place.

It's not like the Onychinus leader to ever let his guard down, but give the man a break—he's exhausted after trying to escape a raid last night.

And instead of letting him sleep, what does his precious little lover do?

That's right—she's got him all tied up to their bed.

His brows furrow, and he tugs on the knot, frustration growing alongside his respect. The knots were a solid 10/10; he could barely move if given a chance.

"Little one, what is this?" He tries to sound understanding, concerned, even.

You snicker. "What does it look like, Sy?" The pretty manicure you got on his card makes him pause. He barely blinks, taking in the sight of your hands sliding down his bare chest. He thinks the red and black combination suits you very, very well indeed.

Blood-red eyes narrow and his jaw ticks. "I would say you're playing with fire, kitten. Let me go—now."

It's an order—one you don't listen to.

"Say, Sy," you casually drape yourself all over him, enjoying his squirming. "Your neck is very sensitive, isn't it?"

Your finger trails from his jaw right to his jugular, hovering over the strip of skin.

"Shit, no," he cusses, flinching back from your touch. "Don't even think about it—"

Your lips replace your finger, trailing hot kisses down his neck. Sylus swallows down an embarrassing gasp, hands turning to fists above his head.

"Kitten, I'm warning you."

But, you don't listen to him—you never do.

Your mouth moves from his neck down to his chest, circling over his well-built chest. Your hair tickles him, trailing after your mouth that moves from chest to stomach down to his pelvis. So dangerously close to where he can feel you the most.

"Kitten, I'm serious here." His voice is a low growl, shooting a dirty thrill up your spine. "Stop teasing me and let me go."

You hum, moving your teasing little mouth to band of his sweatpants. Sylus' abs constrict the second he sees your naughty tongue lick a strip across his happy trail and he swears Devil horns appear on your head.

You grin, running your hand down the seam of his inner thigh.

"Sy," your tone is innocent, though a lustful demon is controlling you. "You're naked underneath those sweats, right?"

The 28-year-old underground leader is no idiot. He can tell when a kitten is itching to stretch her claws.

"Don't even think about it," he warns. Except, you're already doing it.

You touch the impressive bulge, proof that he was not immune to your teasing.

Oh, if only the Hunters Association could see you now. Sylus aches all over thinking about how he's gone off the deep end and ruined you—Linkon's shiniest Hunter—all for the sake of satisfying his dirty games.

The old you would never have found the guts to tie him up to his own bed and suck on him through his sweatpants. She would never have the nerve to be such a little slut.

But, he's changed you. For better or for worst, he can't decide.

Especially not right now when you straighten and he finally notices you in his black silk shirt, buttons sloppily done like a child did them, the too big collar slipping down to expose your shoulders.

Shit. An unwilling groan slips past his clenched teeth when you straddle his lap again and he sees you have no panties on. Fucking hell... she's out for my blood.

"Y/N," he growls your real name now, dead serious. "No more games. Untie me right this instant—fuck."

You grind down on his still clothed bulge, blinking your eyes innocently.

He growls, shaking his head. "I'm the one who ties you up. Or, have you forgotten, kitten?"

A tinkling laugh reaches his hot ears. "You sound like you're not enjoying yourself when this—" you reach for his dick and squeeze it, ignoring his hiss of pleasure. "—is proof that you are."

Oh. He narrows his eyes, licks his lips. You're going to get it this time.

But, your hand on him feels too good, and Sylus can't deny that a sick, twisted part of him is loving this.

His arms tense, tugging on the rope, his expression a cross between ecstasy and pain.

"If you beg me, I'll suck you off," you promise.

A hollow laugh. "Beg you? Beg. You? Shit, a-ah—no way. I'm not giving in. Not gonna give into you. I'm not—" He chokes on a moan. You're fondling his tip through the scratchy material. "Fuck. Fuck. Okay. Okay. Please?"

His voice goes quiet at the end, and you hum.

"Please, what?"

Sylus bares his teeth. No fucking way were you being dead serious.

You grin, twisting your wrist. "Say it, Sy. Please, Mistress."

His jaw ticks, glare deepening. You think he's going to give in—his surrender right at the tip of your tongue.

Suddenly, he starts to laugh. "Oh, Y/N. Sweet, sweet little kitten. You forgot something. Wanna see it?"

You stare at him in confusion, not sure what he's hinting at.

Sylus' smirk deepens, and he exhales another diabolical chuckle.

"You forgot to loop the tie, you foolish little Hunter."

Before your fast reflexes can kick in, his super fast ones have you pinned to the bed, beating you at your own game. The ropes you restrain him with are now around your wrist and you're tethered in the same spot you once had him in.

Pink dusts his cheeks, and Sylus is breathing hard like he's run a marathon. His frosty locks are a mess, but nothing is as terrifying as the sneer on his face.

It burns through you, leaving you breathless when he presses his face closer; you can physically smell the triumph radiating off him.

"What was it you said just a few minutes ago? Ah." His voice drops to a hush whisper; deep baritone caressing the shell of your ear as his hitched breathing teases you, drawing you deeper into the pit of your mistake.

Rubbing in your face how wrong you are for trying to play the master manipulator himself.

"Call you 'Mistress'? Make me beg? Oh, my little dove." He yanks the knots tighter and you yelp at the bite of pain. Sylus leaves enough room for you to wiggle around and make sure the blood still flows, though there's no other give.

Once again, you're trapped under him.

"I can smell your fear," he mocks, raising a brow. "It's so... addictive."

Returning the favor, Sylus nudges your chin up. "Lift your face up, baby. Lift it."

His mouth touches the nape of your neck, dragging towards your pulse point, your jaw, and back to your collarbones, leaving hot and wet kisses everywhere he can reach. Your sweet sounds are addictive, driving him crazy.

"You kissed me all over my body," he drawls in that seductive accent.

Another wet kiss on your shoulder. Sylus takes his time to unbutton the shirt you stole from him, humming under his breath. You flinch once your chest is exposed, and his smirk deepens.

"No way to escape for you now, kitten."

"Sylus, I'm sorry," you blurt out, but it's too late. He's already decided on your punishment.

"Tch." Clicking his tongue, he stands, looking ravishing in just his low slung, gray sweatpants. "I'll be back, little dove. Wait for me."

You can't see where he's disappeared to, only hearing him come back with more loops of rope.

"What's that?" you squeak.

"Nothing for you to worry," he hums, grabbing your ankle and fastening it with a round of rope, attaching it to the bed post. He does the same with your other ankle, and you're truly spread out for him with no way to escape.

Caught in his web you spun of your own stubbornness and greed.

"Sy—"

He shushes you, bringing a dark material right to your face and you tremble when you realize what it is.

"I told you that you have nothing to worry about, little dove," he murmurs, fingers working deftly to secure the blindfold around your eyes.

Darkness encases you, and you're tied to his bed, spread-eagle and helpless.

The bed dips beside you, and you feel the heat of his body hovering over yours.

"Now, what did you do to me a few moments ago, little dove? Oh, right." He grabs your face, tilting your head back. "You kissed me all over my neck."

His mouth resumes its carnal path across your sensitive skin, your hips bucking whenever a bite of pain from his teeth grazes you.

"My chest."

Sylus mouths at your collarbones, smearing hot kisses down your clavicles, over your breasts, stopping to suck and tease your nipples until you cry out in pleasure.

"Oh, I forgot how sensitive your sweet buds are," he murmurs huskily, pinching your nipples until they swell and throb. "What else did you do, hmm? Oh, yes..."

The marks of heat move down your body, right to your tummy; his kisses loud and lewd.

"Mhm, you kissed me right over my stomach..."

"Sy." Your whimpers draw another evil smirk on his handsome face. He can tell you're crumbling in real time. "Please."

You have no idea what you're begging for. But, Sylus hears you loud and clear.

"Don't worry, little dove. I won't tease you like how you teased me." His voice is magnetic, drawing you deeper into his web with his husky baritone and deep whispers. "Not... like... this..."

As he speaks, he caresses your stomach, loving how it flexes and twitches when he moves his touch right to your inner thighs.

"Do you want me to eat you out, kitten?" Sylus hums, and you fight back a shiver at the possessive undercurrent in his question.

"Yes," you admit, unable to help yourself. Your hips quiver, a moan falling past your mouth when he presses a languid kiss onto your inner thigh. "Yes, please."

"Please, what?" he taunts, drawing circles on your hips with his thumb. "Ask me nicely and I might oblige, little dove."

This is Sylus in his element—on top, domineering and controlling all the ropes. You have no choice but to give into him if you want to feel the barest hint of pleasure that he's holding back from you.

"Sir," you gasp, flinching at the bite of his fingernails digging into your plush thigh. "Please, Sir."

The second the word leaves your mouth, he's all over your drooling cunt.

Sylus eats you out in broad, languid strokes, focusing on your clit; using his tongue to play with it, bathing it with tender mouthfuls of praises and degradation all in one.

You wanna come, baby? Wanna mess up my face?

In another breath, he pushes a finger past your quivering pussy, curving it upward to hook on your softest spot. Your hips drive forward, a yelp perforating the heavy air.

No, kitten. You can't come. You can't—oh, fuck.

Sylus drinks in your taste, spreading your shaking thighs further apart. His broad palms trickle up your chest, cupping your heaving breasts and playing with your stiff nipples. He pinches them just as his tongue slips inside your tender heat, nose rubbing against your clit.

Tears stain the blindfold, your mouth hanging wide open in ecstasy. Sylus wishes he could paint a picture of you looking this wanton and needy.

You can't come, baby, he murmurs in between your folds. I won't let you. You've been such a bad girl. I'm gonna edge you until you can't think. Ah-ah. No cumming. No, no. He grounds you back down onto the mattress with those large palms, stopping you from grinding on his face.

I'm gonna ruin every orgasm you have—don't think I don't know when you're coming, baby. I know you. I can taste you. I know when you're close.

Your body is taut as a bow, teeth gritted and nails digging crescent indents into your palms.

Every time you climb towards the point of no return, Sylus drags you back down; backing away from your pussy, leaving you squirming and desperately writhing on the bed for minutes on end until your orgasm fades away—only to restart the entire process again from square one.

"Now you feel my pain, little dove?" He wipes your tears away, humming lowly. "It's not nice to tease people, isn't it?"

Point taken. You mumble his name, and twist your head as if trying to search for him. "Sylus, please. I wanna come."

Oh? This delights him. You're finally breaking down. You want to come, little one? Then, beg.

Your hips clip all needy against his, and your mouth puckers into a frown.

"Sy—"

He grabs your chin, holding you fast as his lips barely touch yours. Beg me.

Please. You lick your lips, tasting nothing but him. Please, Sy. Please, please. Make me cum.

He's back between your thighs, a fiend for your pussy. Sucking, licking, moaning and breathing deeply—it's erotic and obscene, salacious sounds bouncing across the walls. Your head is spinning, the entire room tunneling into one singular sensation of his tongue deep in your cunt.

Those slender, calloused fingers are back on your nipples, bringing you to the brink of insanity. You've bitten your lips hard enough to draw blood; your hips buck, and you're begging for him to give you a reprieve without a second thought.

Please, Sir. Please. Please make me come. I can't—I need it. I need you.

Yeah? A ghost of his chuckle caresses through your folds and you think he's going to relent.

Going to give you what you want, so you try again.

"Please?" You're so close it almost hurts. Your thighs are cramping, arms straining, back about to break with how tautly you're struggling in his restraints. "Please? Please, Sy. Please."

"Mhm," he murmurs, and you think he's going to give in. Finally going to let you climax after stringing you along for what feels like hours.

"No."

He kisses your clit as tears of frustration trickle down your face.

Sylus was never going to give you what you wanted—not when he already has you in the palm of his hand.

— scenario inspired by one of my fave y2f audios <3 feedback and reblogs are appreciated <333

The Belobog sunlight was warm on the captain of the Silvermane Guards’ face. Gepard was covered in what could only be described as a mountain of blankets, hastily tossed over his sleeping form after returning from an extended mission on the front lines. 

The Fragmentum had never taken a break until recently, when the source of the corrosion was discovered and disposed of. There was still work to be done, of course, but Gepard’s workload had been significantly reduced. This left him feeling a strange mix of relief and confusion due to his regular routine being interrupted. 

Hearing some commotion from the hallway of the Landau Estate, Gepard stirred and sat up, a weary expression on his face. He raised a hand to rub his eyes but was unpleasantly surprised by stiff metal coming into contact with his cheek. 

He looked in the full-length mirror, realizing he had forgotten to take most of his armor off before going to bed, as unflattering red indentations remained on his face and neck from metal pressing into his skin. 

Swinging his feet over the side of the bed, he bent down to put on his home-appropriate loafers. It honestly felt like eons had passed since the Captain had woken up in his own home. He smiled to himself. How he had missed the smell of old books, wood, and leather. 

Gepard suddenly stood up with newfound energy to start the day, but the back of his head collided with the wooden shelf next to his bed. He doubled over, grunted in pain, and gingerly ran a hand through his blond hair.

That’s gonna leave a mark, he groaned inwardly. He looked back up at the shelf to see the flowerpot he began taking care of several weeks ago teetering on the edge. Too groggy to react, he watched it tip over and fall onto the hardwood floor, letting out a loud crash. Ceramic shards and dirt went everywhere. 

Gepard gave it an exasperated stare.

It was long dead anyways, He sighed. I forgot to ask Pela to take care of it again,

Rapid knocking could be heard at his door, and a housekeeper barged in. He was breathing as if he had leapt up the stairs four-at-a-time. 

“Young Master Gepard, is everything all right? I heard a crash,” he said, clutching his duster nervously.

The Captain looked at the broken pot on the floor wistfully.

“I’m fine, thanks,” he said monotonously. “What’s for breakfast?”

———

Gepard had long gotten used to heads turning as he walked through the streets of Belobog. 

He didn’t necessarily mind it, though. Someone of his position would be bound to catch a few glances. If it meant he could keep protecting the city, then so be it. Being able to hear the carefree chatter of citizens made his chest swell with pride. Parents and grandparents alike would wave to him, and of course he would wave back. (Although Serval would always chide him for not smiling enough.)

While on his way to buy a new flowerpot, Gepard spotted an elderly woman carrying a bag of groceries. She turned around to face him quickly, startled by the sound of heavy boots clanking behind her. 

“Can I give you a hand with that, ma’am?” He inquired, offering his hands out to take it from her. 

“Oh, you’re too kind. Thank you so, so much,” she smiled up at him. The woman carefully gave him the paper bag that was filled with miscellaneous vegetables. 

“All in a day’s work,” Gepard replied. He hoisted the bag onto his shoulder and walked her to the entrance of a building, all the while a leek poked him in the face. 

“I’m so glad we have you as the Captain of the Silvermane Guards,” she said sweetly as she unlocked the door to her home. “Such a handsome and nice fellow,” 

Gepard shook his head humbly, trying to squash the dusting of pink that spread across his face. “Please, you flatter me too much,” 

The woman raised an eyebrow at him behind her wire-framed glasses, humming in response. 

“Well, I’m sure one day…” she mused. “You’ll meet someone who thinks so too,” He kept his face blank, neither agreeing or disagreeing with her. 

“On your way now, miss. Be careful.” Gepard gave her a polite wave goodbye as she entered the building, and continued on his way.

———

You knew people on the surface could be weird, but not this weird. 

You were just about to join your co-worker, Vaska, on break when you heard the shopkeeper’s bell ring. A man with blonde hair stepped through the entrance, practically armed to the teeth. He wore a spotless soldier’s coat decorated with blue and gold accents, along with an unusual looking metal gauntlet on his right arm. He took care not to bump anything on the way in.

It would be a disaster if he did. 

What’s a soldier doing in a flower shop? You pondered as you fidgeted with your pen absentmindedly. Natasha would’ve strangled someone with that much metal on if she caught them in her clinic,

He walked over to the corner and began browsing the selection of ceramic pots you had to offer. The other customers seemed to acknowledge him and respectfully step aside so he could make his way around easier. 

You realized you were staring a hole into the back of his head and tore your gaze away from him, embarrassed. 

He looks confused, you thought. Maybe he’s buying a gift for someone? I guess I could give him some advice.

You ventured out from behind the desk and approached him, right as he picked up a pot with his heavily armored hand.

Please don’t crush it, so help me Qlipoth!! The voice inside your head shrieked. You clutched at your notepad so hard you thought it might rip in half. It’ll be on MY payroll!!

“Hi there! Can I help you?” You interjected, with the friendliest smile you could muster. The man swiveled his head towards you in surprise. His eyes were startlingly blue. 

“Oh… Yes, I could use some help,” he said. “I’ve been trying my hand at growing flowers for a while now, but it never really seems to work out,” He sighed. “Would you happen to have any advice?”

Your expression became one of pity. Oh! This poor soul! You lamented. Of course you’d help him chase his flower-growing dreams!

“Well, you could start by taking off the gauntlet when you garden,” you teased. “Flowers can get scared easily,”

“Are you serious?” He glanced worriedly at the hand that held the pot. 

For a follower of the Preservation, I can't seem to keep anything alive, he thought.

“No! No, no, of course not! I’m sorry.” You shook your hands as if to clear up the misunderstanding while holding back a giggle. He seemed sweet. 

He let out a relieved sigh. 

“It’s just that you don't see a man covered head to toe in metal come into the store every day. I’m sorry for teasing you about it.” You grinned at him and he cleared his throat sheepishly. “Anyways, what have you been trying to grow?” 

“Well, I had a pot of Solarflowers but I’ve been rather occupied as of late. I’ve had people take care of my plants before, but I would like something that I can handle by myself,” he replied. You hummed.

“If you don’t have too much free time, caring for something routinely may be difficult,” you rattled off. “I admire your perseverance though! Flowers just take a lot of nurturing.” You rested your chin on your hand deliberately.

“Wait a minute… I have just the thing for you! Be right back!” 

You darted into the back room, quick to push apart the piles of boxes filled with flowers. 

Aha! There it is! You almost jumped for joy as you spotted a small plant in a burlap sack. You practically ran back out while holding it up for him to see. 

“Is that… a tree?”

He stared down at it with a peculiar expression. The small, woody plant with only three leaves to call its own said nothing. 

“Nope! It’s a Summershade Bamboo,” you responded cheerily. “I know flowers are your main goal, but you should give this one a try!” He took it from you and examined it, tilting it every which way with his eyebrows furrowed.

“These are tougher than flowers. As long as it has water, it’ll be fine,” you were quick to add. 

“That sounds promising,” he nodded down at you. “I think I’ll buy it,” 

You two made your way to the counter, imaginary confetti poppers going off in your head triumphantly. 

My first real recommendation! You had to physically stop yourself from pumping your fists into the air as you walked behind the counter.

He set down the plant, you fastened a string around it to keep the sack from falling off, and then whipped out your notepad from the front pouch in your uniform. 

“How exactly did you become so good with flowers, anyways?” The man asked, tilting his head. You barked out a laugh while scribbling something down on the paper, remembering just how lucky you were to get this job.

“Oh, believe me, I have killed my fair share of flowers.” You nodded towards the door to the back room, where your co-workers were lounging and drinking the latest tea. “We all have. It’s something that comes with a LOT of trial and error— in fact, a couple months ago I had never even seen one!” 

“Is that so?” He was taken aback. 

“Yep! I’d just moved here from the Underworld, and was fresh out of a job,” you reminisced. “ I had been looking for weeks on end, finally I stumbled across this place! It was so beautiful, I just HAD to apply,” 

You glanced around quickly and leaned in to whisper, “The owner is sort of strict, but she offered me a place to stay. I couldn’t be more grateful,” 

“Is that so? Well then, Belobog is happy to have you,” he said, offering out his right hand for you to shake. “I’m Gepard. Pleased to make your acquaintance,” 

Realizing he had his gauntlet on, he began to retract his hand. You stopped him, almost tipping over the desk to shake it heartily. 

“And I’m (Y/N). No need to be so stiff, it’s a pleasure to meet you too!” A bright smile spread across your cheeks. Gepard felt his breath catch in his throat, much to his surprise.

“Your total comes to 15 Shield,” you said, handing him a yellow square of paper along with the bamboo. “I wrote a list of tips on how to take care of it too! This one will survive. I'm sure of it,”

You beamed at him. “Come back anytime if you need any more advice!” 

Gepard felt the corners of his mouth rise into a smile. 

“I’m sure I will,” 

———

As the Captain was watering his bamboo plant that night, the moons of Jarilo-VI caught his attention through the window. They were shining brightly tonight. His mind wandered back to just how bright your smile was.

Gepard shook himself out of his thoughts, ignoring his heart beating faster than usual, and placed the newly potted bamboo on his bookshelf.

So it couldn’t be knocked over by a clumsy captain like himself, of course.

He sighed. The Captain opened an old, tattered book for a while before turning off the lamp and tucking into the covers for the night. 

———

A few days later, you were pleased to see that your new guard friend decided to show up again. 

He sure took his sweet while staring at the flowers this time. You couldn't blame him for his indecisiveness though, because choosing something as special as flowers could be a challenge.

Gepard eventually gave up and walked over to the counter. You gave him a friendly wave.

“Hey there again! How’s the new plant doing?” You inquired, shifting your weight onto your toes with a happy grin.

“Fairly well, surprisingly. I'm very happy with it,” he said with a relaxed expression.

“I’m glad! That’s the first time I've ever recommended somethin’ to someone!” You exclaimed. He blinked in surprise. 

“So, what are you in here for this time?” You asked.

“I'd like to buy some flowers for my older sister. She could use something to liven up her workshop. I'm not sure which ones to get for her though.” He paused, looking off to the side at the plants hanging by the windows. 

“Aww, that’s really sweet! What’s her favorite color?” You said.

“Purple,” he replied.

You glanced at the rows of purple flowers on the shelves and bit your lip. “Um, well, What's she like?” 

“She’s definitely something,” Gepard murmured to himself. “Between running the workshop and her rock gigs, she practically has an infinite amount of energy.” He shook his head lightly. 

“Rock gigs?” You questioned. “What’s that?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Rock is a genre of music she’s fascinated by. She does concerts sometimes… Although she’s somehow coerced one of my co-workers into performing with her,”

“No way… She’s a musician AND she runs a workshop? She sounds incredible!” Your eyes went wide with awe. 

Gepard stifled a chuckle.

“She can be, sometimes,” He sighed, tapping the desk with an armored finger. “If we ignore the numerous crazy things she’s done in the past,” 

“Sisters, am I right?” You chirped. “Anyways, what about you? What’s being a guard like?” 

“I suppose—,” 

He cut off as your boss shoved past you with some large boxes in hand, almost tipping you onto the desk, but your fall was stopped by his hands, which caught your shoulders and helped steady you. 

“Sorry about that! (Y/N),” she called, not bothering to look back as she rushed into the storeroom. “A new shipment came in today. We could use your help sorting it out if you could hurry it up a bit!” 

“Oops,” You turned back to him. “I’m sorry, I got carried away,” you said sheepishly.

“Don’t be. I don’t mind small talk,” Gepard responded, fiddling with one of the clasps on his uniform.

“Really? Phew.” You wiped fake sweat from your brow. “Anyways, I think she would enjoy a pot of Indigos.” You pointed to a flowerpot on the leftmost side of the shop. “They’re a nice bold color, and pretty hardy too!”

You swore Gepard’s eyes lit up as he picked up the pot of purple flowers. 

“These are perfect. Your recommendations truly are the best,” Gepard said when he returned to the counter. You thought you heard a bit more warmth beginning to creepinto his voice.

You smiled at him, and for a split second, his heart threatened to burst out of his chest. And with that, you checked him out and handed him a blank thank-you card to write on, bowing politely.

“Thank you, come again!” You called, and squeaked in surprise as you were promptly yanked by the collar into the storage room. Gepard could only blink in confusion as he watched you disappear into the back. 

———

A few weeks passed, and Gepard had become a regular at the flower shop. You started to look forward to when he came in so you could chat about how his new bamboo plant was faring. 

I wonder if he has a name for it, you mused to yourself. Probably not,

It was kind of unusual how much he stopped by, though. 

You were in the middle of putting a case full of seed packets on the shelf when you heard the door creak open, nothing out of the ordinary.

“Be right there!” You shouted. You peeked your head out from behind the door frame, only to spot Gepard’s familiar blond hair once more. He was looking very intently at a dresser filled with a variety of multicolored plants. The soldier caught your gaze, but quickly broke eye contact with you, much to your confusion.

“Isn’t this the third time he’s come in this week?” You whispered to your boss, Meg, who was writing labels for the different jars on the shelves. She shrugged.

Meg put her hands on her hips. “I've got no problem with it. It’s good for business, after all. He always seems to be looking for something or someone in particular… He gets awfully sad when you aren't there, y’know,” 

You squinted at her, confused, and then shook your head in disbelief. You headed back to the counter where Gepard was waiting with a small sack in his hands. 

“Good afternoon, Gepard. What can I do for ya this time?” You stared at his face harder than normal, analyzing his expression. It didn't change much.

“Just the usual, please.” He placed the bag of plant fertilizer on the desk while he dug in his pockets for the change. He was dead serious, like usual.

Ugh. Why was he so impossible to read?? 

“You do know we sell these in larger sizes, right?” You questioned while pointing at the bag. Gepard nodded, shuffling his feet a little. 

“Yes, I am aware, but I have a very inquisitive little sister. I'm afraid one of her pets might get into it while I'm not there and get sick,” he answered. “It's easier if there's less of it for them to get into,” 

Gepard ran his gloved hand through his hair while you stood nodding thoughtfully.

“Ohhh, I see!” You let out a gasp of realization. “Phew! I was worried you were coming in here just to see me!” 

“No, of… course not,” he said, mouth agape. The soldier closed his eyes in embarrassment as he felt his face heat up. “Although, seeing you does improve my day greatly,” 

Your face morphed into a scowl, much to his surprise. “You oughta be spending your time better, you know. Guard duty sounds very demanding.” You folded your arms with a huff. “You know, delivery IS an option if you want to save some effort,”

“O-oh? Could you elucidate to me how it works?” He stuttered, expression changing to one of nervous curiosity. 

“Yeah! Delivery works with almost anything. We understand how hard it is to drag an entire plant or package to your residence,”

You shook your finger matter-of-factly as you went off on your sales pitch. “You can place an order in-store and we can bring it to you, even on the same day you place it!” 

“AND, we can do regularly scheduled deliveries, that way, you don't have to come in every two days. Instead, one of our very capable workers will get it to you!” 

He merely stared at you quizzically. You huffed. 

“Believe me, we’re stronger than we look.” You raised your arm, curling it into a fist. “I used to work in the mines, so I'm used to heavy lifting,” you said, putting your hands back on your hips proudly. 

Gepard exhaled through his nose. He knew you weren’t going to let this one go.

“So… Would you be interested? I’d hate for you to have to go on a wild Mole chase every time you want to buy fertilizer,” you said slyly. 

“Well—” He raised his hand to protest. “It’s really not an issue—,”

“Nonsense! I'm sure your schedule is super busy, so let me help you out!” You slid a purple notecard and a pen with a floral print across the counter to him. 

“I guess it couldn’t hurt,” The guard sighed in defeat.

Gepard waited until he got a safe distance away from the shop, and facepalmed with a weak groan. As he drew his hand away, a new look of determination flickered across his face. 

He was going to need new excuses to keep seeing you. 

———

Is this really the place?? You thought, boxes in hand. The sun was setting on the fancy buildings in the modern district of the city, painting them a brilliant orange. You adjusted your beret, determined not to let it fall off, and prepared yourself to venture up the stairs to the massive mansion located on the uppermost level of the city. 

When you reached the entrance at the top, you realized that the unfamiliar building made the shop you called home seem almost microscopic. Two guards were standing at the sides of the heavy-looking wooden door, complete with ornately carved bronze handles. 

The doors opened, and out walked a group of housekeepers. You gave them a feeble wave hello and trotted over to them.

“Hi there! I have a delivery for the—,” You narrowed your eyes at the card on top of the boxes—, “Landau Estate?” 

You hoped you didn’t just butcher the name. One of the guards and a maid sauntered over to you. 

“That’s unusual,” the maid said, taking the card and inspecting it closely. “We weren't expecting a package. This is for fertilizer, you say?” You nodded in agreement. 

“Do you know if anyone here ordered fertilizer?” She turned back to the group of servants, who all murmured among themselves. “Hmm… doesn’t look like it,”

“Oh jeez. I'm sorry, a man named Gepard ordered it. Maybe he put down the wrong address by mistake?” You shrugged. 

Who on Jarilo-VI would live in a house this big, anyways? You wondered. 

“Oh! The young master!” A lightbulb seemed to go off in her head. “I wasn't aware he had ordered something. I'm sorry, but we aren't allowed to accept packages on his behalf unless he clears it with us first.” She clasped her hands together. “I apologize for the misunderstanding,” 

You shook your head reassuringly. “That’s all right, I can just find him myself. Does anyone know where he might be?” 

That earned you a few quizzical looks. One of the aides, a woman with chestnut hair, piped up. 

“I heard he was heading to Serval’s workshop today. Maybe if you're lucky, you could catch him on his way out!” 

“Great! Thanks!” 

You adjusted the boxes under your arm once again and flew down the stairs two at a time. 

They called him “Young Master”? You furrowed your brow.

This was getting weirder and weirder.

———

Rapidly flipping through your map of Belobog, you pinpointed an eccentric looking building on the easternmost side of the plaza. When you reached the workshop indicated on your map, you stood still in amazement.

It was covered in the coolest metal fixtures and gave off a mature aura you couldn’t quite put your finger on. If something like this had existed in the Underworld, you wouldn't have been able to see it in full detail anyways.

Not right now! I have a delivery to make! You snapped at yourself. You pried the door open with your hand and used the weight of your back to push your way inside. 

The inside of the building was just as interesting as the outside. Metal cogs spun with no aim in particular, more tools than you had ever seen in your lifetime adorned the walls, and old manuscripts were sprawled out all over the various surfaces. You wanted to explore it all already.

You spotted Gepard talking to a boldly dressed woman at the front desk. Another blue-haired woman was working on a blueprint off to the side, too absorbed in her work to notice the commotion at the door. 

“Aha! There you are!” You exclaimed. “I've got your delivery for this week. Some housekeepers told me I could find you here.” You bounded up to him with the boxes curled under your arm, smiling as he thanked you. 

“I apologize you had to go through all that trouble to find me.” He rubbed his temples. “I should have cleared the whole thing with them first. Here, let me take that for you,” 

The tall woman stepped out from behind the counter, looking you up and down with great interest. She had stunning lip gloss and blond hair with a lone blue streak on her right side. You wondered where she got her style from, as everyone on the surface dressed the same, for the most part.

“And who might you be?” She inquired. 

“I’m (Y/N), from the flower shop across the street.” You curtsied with a smile.

“What a cute little doll!” The woman tilted her head at you, her eyes sparkling with adoration. “Gepard, where on Jarilo-VI did you find them? I know everyone’s face, and I've never seen theirs,” 

You saw Gepard shift from side to side in the corner of your eye. 

“I started working there just a few weeks ago, actually! I’m from the Underworld,” you chirped. 

“No way! Well then, it’s a pleasure to be meeting you!” She offered her hand for you to shake, which you took graciously. She was so easygoing, it was easy to be drawn to her. 

“I'm Serval, this clumsy oaf’s sister.” She wrapped her arm around Gepard and poked him in the side. “The one over there is Molly, my assistant!” She pointed at the worker with blue hair in the corner, who gave you a quick thumbs-up. “It seems you know my brother?”

“Well—,” you started. 

“We don't need to go into detail now, I'm sure you have places to be,” Gepard interrupted, placing a hand on your shoulder. He hoped you couldn’t feel his palms sweating.

“No, no, no!” Serval pouted, “I'm invested now, can't you see?” She said, circling around you like a carnivore would. 

“Um. It’s fine, actually! That was the last of the deliveries scheduled for today,” you chimed in.

“Perfect! Molly, could you get our guest some tea?” Serval called. She led you to a small table with an oil lamp resting on it, pulling out your chair before she sat in her own. She rested her arm on the tabletop while leaning forward with a thrilled expression. 

Gepard stayed where he was, rubbing his forehead. The poor man’s cheeks were bright red. 

“So! How are you liking the city so far?” Molly set down two cups of steaming hot tea. You thanked her, then took a sip as you paused to think. It was fragrant and had just the right amount of sweetness.

“It’s honestly gorgeous. The air up here is so clean compared to the mines!” You replied energetically. 

“My thoughts exactly!” The woman across from you nodded. “There’s nothing like the cold Belobog air to wake you up in the mornings too. Have you visited the Everwinter Monument yet?” 

You took in a sharp breath. “No, I haven’t! Not for real, at least. I see it through the window of my apartment sometimes. Since I live and work in the same building, I haven’t really felt the need to explore the city yet,” you murmured. “Although, I'm being put on delivery more often, so I guess there’s that,” 

You gazed around the room curiously, taking another sip of your tea. 

“I've never been in a workshop this fancy before. What kind of work do you do here?” You asked.

“Well, we do a lot of mechanical repairs and research. Although, my brother might have mentioned that we hold Rock gigs here sometimes,” she responded. 

Said brother was looking at the delivery card with incredible concentration. 

I still don't know what a gig is, you sighed inwardly. 

“That's incredible! What instrument do you play?” You said, voice dripping with enthusiasm to make up for the confusion.

“Electric guitar,” Serval said. “I can go grab it for you if you'd like to see it,”

“Would I EVER???” You practically bounced out of your seat. She got up from the table and opened the door to a side room, snapping her fingers and humming to herself. 

Noticing a pot of purple flowers, your rose from your seat to inspect them. They were healthy and had enough sunlight. You gave a happy bounce of approval, then sauntered over to Gepard, who was still standing stiffly. 

“So that’s the sister you told me about, huh?” You smiled cheerfully. 

“Indeed. That’s her,” Gepard nodded in agreement. 

“I can't believe you have a MUSICIAN for a sister. She's so energetic!”

“I guess the only thing we have in common are our looks,” he mused. His eyes locked onto yours and you giggled.

“Pfft. You got that right,” 

“Miss Serval really is the epitome of exciting!” Molly called from her desk. You pumped a fist in silent agreement. 

“I guess you could say that. Although she can be a little overbearing sometimes.” Gepard sighed and looked off into the distance. “I'm really sorry to be dragging you out here on a work night,” 

“It’s okay, really. I could use a bit more excitement. My life doesn't need to revolve around the flower shop, after all,” you reassured him. 

———

When Serval came out of the side room with her guitar, everything clicked into place. 

No wonder her adorable little brother was being so sheepish! (Albeit, only a little more than usual.)

It’s because he was feeling shy, Serval deduced. Every time you looked him in the eyes, he looked away and his ears turned pink. She almost cooed out loud, giving him a pitying glance. This was TOO CUTE. 

A raucous grin spread across her face, which she quickly squashed before deciding her next move.

You turned to face the sound of heels clicking on the tile floor. 

“And here—,” she announced with a grand gesture—, “Is my magnum opus!” She laid her guitar on the table proudly.

You could not, for the life of you, see how the machine in front of you resembled a guitar in any way. It was large and avant garde, with a long black handle and tubes sticking off the side of the body.

It was still the coolest thing you had ever seen, though. 

“Wow. wow wow wow WOW!!” You gasped in amazement. “Can I-- can I touch it?!”

“Go ahead! Who am I to stop someone from admiring fine craftsmanship?” Serval chuckled lightly. You inspected the guitar with so much excitement, she could have sworn your head was about to explode.

“Anyhow, I need to check something in the back just for a quiiick second,” she said offhandedly, fishing through her pockets and pulling out a key made of brass. “C’mon Molly!”

Serval yanked the startled girl by the hand unceremoniously causing her pen to drop on the floor. She turned backwards for a split second and gave Gepard a wink.

Gepard gulped. He’s seen that look before. 

His rebellious sister was DEFINITELY planning something. 

When she returned, the smile on her face was even brighter. Blinding, even. Molly was nowhere to be seen.

“The mechanics are really well done!” You said excitedly. “I've never seen anything like it. Repairing minecarts and robots wasn’t anywhere near this level of intricacy,”

“Whoa! You really know what you're talking about, new friend! You know, if you're ever interested in working with us, we could always use an extra pair of hands in the workshop,” 

“I would LOVE that,” you replied. “I’ll have to adjust my work schedule first, though. I took on a few too many hours this week and tomorrow is my only free day. I was planning on using it to see the city,”

“It's no sweat! Come in anytime it strikes your fancy. Actually, the workshop happens to be closed that day too, would you be up to touring the city together?” 

You nodded vigorously. 

Serval grinned and clasped your hands with her own. You exchanged contacts, while Gepard pulled her aside to whisper something in her ear. She then promptly elbowed him in the gut, causing him to grunt in pain, Then out of the blue, your phone started dinging incessantly.

“Um, I don't think that's ME doing that—,” Serval said nervously. You furrowed your eyebrows, raising the screen closer to your face to get a better look. 

It was Vaska. They must have wanted you to come back to help close up shop. The sky outside had shifted from an orange to a deep blue, dotted sparsely with stars. You sighed and accepted the fact that you had to return to your ordinary flower-filled life.

Your disappointment was abruptly interrupted by a huge crash coming from the back room. Your phone almost flew into the air as everyone scrambled to check for the source of the noise. 

There Molly stood, covered head to toe in soot, coughing up a storm, with bits of machinery scattered everywhere. A few stray pieces rolled off the table the machine was sitting on. 

You made sure to watch your step as you clung to the walls to keep your balance.

“Oh, by Qlipoth,” Serval covered her face with her hand, closing her eyes. “I forgot we had an experiment running! Molly, are you all right?” She bent down, picking up some stray papers and rushed over to the girl. Serval dusted her assistant off worriedly.

You began to reach for some of the stray parts scattered on the floor, but Gepard held out a hand to stop you. 

“That's not a good idea. It's hard to see sharp edges with everything covered in soot right now. Let me take care of it,”

You blinked at him in surprise. 

“Well then, I guess it's a good thing I carry these around with me then!” You pulled out a pair of thick gloves from your apron triumphantly, and proceeded to carry on picking up the shrapnel. When Molly had been sufficiently cleaned up, Serval groaned. 

“The Department of Education wants these results in three days,” she spoke. “It'll take me all night to get this baby up and running again— I'm sorry, but I can't make it to our little outing tomorrow,”

You shook your head frantically. “I'm so sorry this happened!” You sighed. “If I hadn't distracted you—,”

“That's not it at all!” Serval interjected. “I can be a little scatterbrained sometimes. This kind of stuff happens all the time.” She gave a small laugh. “Geppie can attest to that,” 

He blanched, almost dropping an armful of tubes.

“I'm really, really sorry.” She bowed her head. “Gepard, could you take them instead? Please? I know you have this week off.” She placed her hands together in a praying motion and closed her eyes. He let out a small sound of surprise.

“It’s… not an issue,”

Serval’s eyes flew back open.

“Great! I’ll leave you two to it then!” Her old enthusiasm was back in the blink of an eye and she resumed sweeping up the room. Gepard led you back to the main entrance.

“Okay, I know I said I could use some excitement, but not THAT much excitement,” you said quietly.

“I suppose that makes two of us,” he replied. 

“Do things really blow up around here that often?”

“They sure do. She says it's all part of the process,” he spoke. “I hope that doesn't scare you too much,” 

“Not at all, actually. I've seen my fair share of explosions,” You chuckled. 

“That's a relief,”

Your phone rang again, and this time you answered it. You put it to your ear only to be deafened by Vaska’s screaming.

“The heck is taking you so long???” She barked. You could hear the clamor of your co-workers in the background.

“Gahh! Sorry, sorry! I’ll be right over,” you said hurriedly. 

“You better be,” she huffed impatiently. You hung up with a groan. As much as you hated it, she was right. Your duties for the night were far from over. 

“Oh! That reminds me,” you piped up. “Gepard, did I get your number? Wait… do you have a phone?”

“That would be a no and a yes.” He ran a hand across his hip, only to realize he didn't have it with him.

“That's fine.” You grabbed a marker from your pocket, and scanned the room for anything to write on.

You decided you'd rather not risk a catastrophe by grabbing a random piece of paper. Instead, this would work just as well. 

“Crud. Gepard, could I see your hand for a second?” He held out his right arm, the one with the gauntlet on it.

“The other one, silly!” You giggled. He complied.

The soldier flinched in surprise as you rolled back the sleeve on his left arm, holding his wrist with your other hand so you could press the ink onto his skin.

“You have my number now! Don't worry, it'll wash off pretty easily. Anyways, I'm looking forward to our outing tomorrow. I’ll see you then!” You said cheerfully.

“You as well," he called out to you as you rushed out the door. “Travel safely,” 

But then he froze. 

Wait just a minute. 

Isn’t Serval still banned from the Education Committee?

He pondered this thought for a moment, and then chuckled to himself. Well, now I know what that look was for,

———

The sun was high in the sky the next day when you met Gepard in front of the Everwinter Monument. 

He was hard to miss, really. The light reflected off every possible inch of his uniform. When you turned to face him, you had to shield your eyes with a gasp.

Oh, this man was too brilliant for everyday life. 

“I hope you weren't waiting too long,” he said gently, blonde strands of hair waving in the breeze. 

“Not at all! I was just taking my time admiring the monument.” You gazed back up at the incredible sculpture. “That’s not real ice… is it? I feel stupid for asking,” You murmured. 

“Not exactly. It does look remarkably realistic, though. It was made as a tribute to Plamya, one of the many great architects of this city,”

“What did she do?” You looked at him, feeling intrigued but slightly uneducated.

“She's the one who led the charge in constructing the citadel in order to protect the city from the eternal freeze,” he responded, gazing up at the structure. 

“I can't believe one woman spearheaded that entire operation!” you commented. “You sure know a lot about the history of Belobog, Gepard,”

“You could say that. Now, why don't we get going? There’s a lot to see in Belobog’s administrative district,” 

———

To say there was “a lot to see” in the Administrative District was the understatement of the century. 

It was everything you had imagined it to be, pieced together from stories told by your upperclassmen, and more. Your first decision was to stop at various newspaper stands, ecstatically flipping through half of the available merchandise. 

There was so much to read up here! In the Underworld, the same 30 books were cycled between people over and over again. Most of them were medical records kept by Natasha, too. 

Gepard made sure to point out important buildings and historic facts to you as you walked. You had no idea there was so much history to the place! You started bouncing down the street so excitedly, he had to pull you out of the way of an oncoming street car. 

Next, you made sure to peer through the windows of all of the shops. At one particular clothing store, you bent down to get a closer look at the stitchwork on the pieces. There was not a seam to be found. Your guide noticed you staring particularly hard at a certain item of clothing.

“Is there anything that piqued your interest?” Gepard inquired. You sighed, scrunching your face up.

“Well, yes, but I'd rather not spend recklessly right now. I don't want to look like an upstart,” you scoffed. You stared at the article a little longer before turning away and standing up.

“That’s understandable.” He folded his arms and nodded. He took a step back to get a better look at the display window that belonged to the boutique you were so curious about. 

After successfully making every shop owner in a 3-block radius uncomfortable, you decided to check out the famous theater in the area. The building was more elegant than anything you had ever seen in your life, with square columns were detailed down to the centimeter. You figured a single chunk would fetch a pretty decent price. You did still have your old mining pickaxe—,

You squished your face with your hands suddenly to dispel your unholy thoughts. A confused expression flickered across Gepard’s face, but he thought nothing of it. He merely wasn’t accustomed to seeing people this excited, especially when he was present.

You decided to write down a reminder to buy tickets for your next day off.

By noon, you were ridiculously parched from scurrying around the city. You spotted your savior, a friendly vending machine, resting by the stone wall of the lower level of the city. You enthusiastically punched in the numbers for a Jim Roger Bread Soda, asking Gepard if he would like one too.

“Soda? I’ve only had the pleasure of trying it once,” he responded, 

“Ah, I see. We used to drink it a lot when the water wasn't safe,” you reminisced, meeting his gaze. “I wasn't sure if you guys indulged in that type of thing up here,”

“It wouldn't hurt to expand my view on beverages, I suppose.” He rested a hand on his chin thoughtfully.

You fed some more coins into the machine, and out popped a differently shaped bottle. It was rather small, especially for someone with hands like Gepard’s. 

“The carbonation in this one is a little weaker, so maybe you'll like it better. Who knows?” You said with a grin, handing it to him.

When he inspected the label, it read, “Strawberry Svarog”, complete with a curly straw and a cartoon of a laughing child. He deduced it must have been a children’s soda, popping the cap off and tilting his head back, but you stopped him before the bottle reached his lips.

“Nuh uh,” you shook your head disapprovingly. “You’ve gotta use the straw, or else you won't get the full experience!” 

He looked at you quizzically. “Do I really have to?”

You pursed your lips at him. He sighed, tearing open the straw and taking a sip. You had to admit, he did look a little silly, with a serious look on his face and his nose all scrunched up. Stifling a giggle, you screwed the cap off your own soda.

“How is it?” You asked. “I don't think I've ever had that flavor before— Strawberry Svarog? I wonder what he would think if he found out he was being used as a marketing gimmick,” you snickered. 

What on Jarilo-VI is a strawberry? Gepard wondered.

“Not too shabby. Here, try some.” He held it out to you, but instead of taking it in your hands to drink, you leaned forward and took a sip while he was still holding it.

The background chatter around you seemed to cease slightly. 

“I agree! A little on the lukewarm side, but—,”

Mortified, you realized what you had done. 

“Shoot—! I'm s-sorry. Must be gardener’s reflexes or something! I guess I thought I still had dirt on my hands or something… hahaha,” you trailed off.

Your face felt like it was burning as you flailed your arms about, so you spun around quickly to prevent him from seeing your frazzled expression. 

And it was a good thing you did, too, or else you would have seen his.

The soldier next to you resembled more so a “strawberry” than a man. His eyes darted around wildly as he turned the other way to give you some privacy, his hands falling to his side. 

“W-well, no matter.” He coughed. “Why don't we stop and get something to eat as well? You must be famished,”

“Yeah… definitely,”

———

Gepard took you to the cafe by Serval’s workshop, where she and Molly would often stop by on their lunch breaks. You grabbed a croquette sandwich, and him, a muffin. You sat down at the metal tables outside and began to enjoy your food. 

The guard made a noticeable clanking noise as he sat down. He was almost a head taller than you. It was a little embarrassing, frankly. 

“So, Gepard, do you always wear your uniform when you're out and about?” You questioned. 

“I do, yes.” He nodded.

“It has to be comfortable if you wear it all the time, then,” 

Gepard hummed thoughtfully. “Not exactly. But it is required of me, after all.” He took a bite of his muffin. 

You reached across the table and grasped the arm with the gauntlet, examining it closely.

“Whoa! It’s really warm!” You exclaimed, turning his hand over so his palm faced upwards. You curled each of his fingers almost instinctively. “This thing makes you look really tough, you know?” You added. 

Gepard could have died right then and there, and he would have been happy.

“R-really? You think so?” He closed his eyes bashfully. 

You hummed in response, still focused on his handguard.

Come to think of it, I don't think I've seen anyone around here that looks remotely close to him, you wondered. I figured there would be more, since he's a soldier and all, 

You took a bite of your food, determined to remain unbothered. Gepard finished his muffin quickly, so you offered him half your sandwich in your usual generous fashion. 

As you finished up, a commotion coming from the center of the plaza drew your attention. A crowd of around forty people had gathered by the monument, clapping their hands to a steady beat. They seemed to be arranged in a circle surrounding someone.

Your face lit up as you heard the tones of an instrument beneath the chatter of people. The metal chair, which you had been sitting in previously, was pushed away with a screech as you got up. 

Gepard reached out a hand to you as you sprinted towards the throes of people, but faltered and let out a defeated sigh. He gave in and rose to join you instead.

When you reached the center of the square, you spotted the musician you often saw practicing outside the shop, strumming her guitar as people smiled around her. (Although the only reason you knew of her was because Vaska had a huge crush on her and would NOT STOP TALKING ABOUT IT. “Ooh, (Y/N), do you think she likes reading? Do you think she likes Tale of the Winterlands???” It was actually kind of sweet, though.)

According to your sheepish co-worker, it was “just a passing fancy”. This “passing fancy” had been going on for about two months. 

I wonder if I should take a video to send to her, you wondered with an amused smile.

You began to tap your foot in sync with the downbeats of the song. You were taken aback by just how quickly the music ensnared you in its hold. It filled you with energy that coursed through your veins.

And it seemed like you weren't the only one, either. Several people in the crowd began to dance, children and couples alike twirling hand-in-hand. You feel a grin start to form on your face, and decided that now would be a great time to join the fray. 

You leapt into the center, right next to the musician, who gave you a wink. You swayed on your feet with the strums of the guitar, your dress whirling. You kicked your legs into the air, mirroring the person across from you with a giggle. 

Meanwhile, Gepard was politely making his way towards the front of the crowd. 

“Excuse me, apologies, coming through,” he muttered while tapping on people’s shoulders. The crowd parted when they spotted him coming. 

He strained his neck to look into the mass of dancers, spotting you at the center, dipping your arms and spinning on your feet with another girl your age. 

You caught a glimpse of Gepard’s iconic uniform in your line of sight, and immediately waltzed over to him in a rather dramatic fashion. 

You ran your fingers down his forearms lightly, and then interlaced your hands with his, yanking him backwards with all your might into the dancers. He yelped as he stumbled into your arms. For someone built like a tank, he sure came unbalanced easily. 

“Wait— ah, h-hold on, I don't know how to dance—,” Gepard stammered, glancing down at you. 

“That's fine, just hold on to me!” You winked at him, pulling him closer so he couldn't back out. You rested a hand on his shoulder, and wrapped the other around his gauntlet. You shuffled him into a silly looking box step, something that would resemble a dance a family might have in the kitchen.

Gepard’s breath was much heavier than usual, especially because he was in such close proximity to you. Your chests were pressed together, in order to take up the least amount of space as other people spun past you. 

His eyes were wide with surprise as you raised his arm and twirled under it. It took all of his concentration to keep his hands from shaking. He was worried about gripping you too tightly or too loosely, as one wrong move from a guard like him could squish you. 

He tried to dispel his worries, and instead focused on you. You were as radiant as the sun, with a smile brighter than the Belobog snow. 

You two wove through the crowd, stepping rowdily with the upbeat music, and he tried his best to keep up. Gepard felt his cheeks warming while you stared into his eyes, an elated expression paining your features. Unfortunately, it was cut short though. You stepped on your own foot and sent you both tumbling onto the pavement, the clatter of his armor dimming the laughter of children for a split second. 

The crowd stepped out of the way as you rolled on the stone ground, limbs tangling together. 

You burst into raucous laughter as you sat up, holding your stomach because it hurt so much and wiping tears from your eyes. Gepard was engaged in breathy laughter of his own. He looked just like a prince when he was happy, you realized.

“Wow, that was… incredible,” He coughed.

“I know right? I have the grace and beauty of a warp trotter.” You got up and curtseyed, flaring your jacket for extra impact and offering a hand to him.

“I don't see why that matters as long as you're having fun,” He took your hand and you pulled him up with a grunt.

You noticed the crowd was giving you some strange glances, some of them looking directly at you as they whispered under their breath. You clenched your jaw slightly. 

“I guess you're right. On the other hand, you got pretty into it too!” You turned your attention back to him, teasing him with a grin. He wiped his cheek with a distracted look.

Heading out of the crowd, you leaned on his shoulder like a wounded soldier. When you finally escaped, you realized the sun was setting with a start.

“My gosh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean for it to take this long,” you spoke, embarrassed. “I just got super caught up in the moment, s’all,” 

“No worries,” He said as he gestured reassuringly. “I enjoyed it. I can't remember the last time I spent some quality time in the city,”

“I guess there's always some fun to be had, even if you've lived here your whole life,” you commented. “Wait! I almost forgot— I wanted to get a picture in front of the monument,” you fished your phone out from your bag.

“Of course,” he said courteously, holding his hand out towards you. You looked at him, puzzled.

“Of us, I mean,”

“Oh, um… sure,” He swallowed a lump in his throat.

“It’s all right if you'd rather not,” you yammered, your face beginning to heat up. “It’s just that it's my first time on an outing with a friend! I wanted something to remember it by,” 

“It's fine, it’s not an inconvenience or anything,” he blurted out. 

You motioned for him to stand in front of the monument next to you and raised your phone up. No matter how hard you tried though, you could never catch more than half of his face in the frame, even on your tippy toes. You grumbled as you kept trying to adjust your position.

He took the phone from you gently, holding it up so it caught you both from above. The shutter clicked and he handed it back to you, and you raised your arms above your head with a cheer.

“It looks great! Thank you so, so much. I’ll send it to you once I get the chance,” you beamed. 

“I would enjoy that,” he responded with a soft smile. Fortunately for him, the sunset hid the blush on his face that stubbornly refused to go away. 

He walked you back to the florists, shoulder to shoulder. The streets were now quieter, with the trams having stopped for the day, and all that remained outside the shop was a group of kids and their caretakers. 

You stopped at the stairs, bowing your head when you turned around. 

“Thank you for accompanying me today,” you said gently, rocking from the balls of your feet to your heels. 

“My pleasure,” Gepard replied. He placed a hand on his chest and nodded back, just like a gentleman would. 

As corny as it seemed, your heart fluttered in your ribcage. Resting a hand on your hip, you used the other one to flick him in the forehead, sending a few strands of golden hair flying. You bit your lip to keep from laughing. 

His eyes sprung open, his hand going to his forehead in surprise. 

“It’s best you get going,” you said. “Soldiers need their beauty rest, after all. Get home safely!” 

He nodded with a silent smile before turning away and starting off towards the direction of Qlipoth Fort. While he was walking, he felt a vibration in his pocket. 

His phone had one new notification, which was from you. Gepard opened up the messaging app to see the photo you had taken. You were wearing a goofy grin, and he was bent down with his lips pressed together sheepishly.

Gepard felt something akin to happiness bubbling up from his chest. He looked up into the sky, allowing himself a single second to loosen up, and pumped his fists into his chest. He sauntered towards the estate, humming one of his sister’s songs as he went. 

Meanwhile, the kids playing nearby were dumbfounded. A little red-haired girl stopped and pointed at him.

“Mommy, what's that man doing?”

—

A few days later, you were sitting on the edge of your mattress, waiting for Vaska to reply to a text you sent earlier that morning. Two tickets to the Golden Theater laid on your bedside table. Your phone buzzed and your hand darted to pick it up nervously. 

From: Vaska

Vaska: Sorry, I can't come to the theater today! 

Vaska: I haven’t had time to reread Tale of the Winterlands lately. I wanted to get to that today.

You: That’s all right! The tickets were discounted, so I just figured I would get them! Enjoy your reading!

Vaska: Wait, I am available for lunch though. 

Vaska: It feels like forever since I’ve seen you! 

You: Vaska, we work together.

Vaska: Yes. And?

You: …

You: Ok, I’ll be there.

You sighed, shaking your head. It had been a bad idea to buy an extra ticket, even if they WERE discounted for the final day of thIs play they were showing. 

Well, worst case scenario, I have a fancy piece of paper I can hang up, but it’ll be a shame if this ticket gets wasted, you thought to yourself.

You chewed on your nails. Should I ask Serval? She might still be busy fixing her device. I’d better not… 

What about Gepard? Maybe I could pay him back for giving me that tour, You flicked the screen to Gepard’s contact info, but you noticed the name in the slot read “Gerard” instead. 

Oh shoot, better fix that,

You tapped the screen to edit his name, but hit the “call” button by mistake. 

“Nono wait no—,” you gasped. Your thumb darted to the red icon in the corner, but you heard someone on the other line pick up ridiculously quickly. 

“Hello? Gepard Landau speaking,” His voice was clear on the other end. Your nervous system threatened to wrangle its way out of your body that very second. 

“Hi! Hello! Um—, I’m really sorry,” you stuttered. “I clicked the call button by mistake,”

“Oh..? That’s all right,” There was no marked change in tone when he spoke again. He was standing in the office of the new Supreme Guardian, right next to some stacks of papers. Pela peeked her head out from behind one of them.

“I was meaning to ask you about something though,” you blurted out, grabbing your beret from the side table. “I happen to have an extra ticket to the Golden Theater. There’s a showing today at two o’clock. I'm sorry it’s on short notice, but would you like to come with me?” 

Gepard clasped his phone in a death grip.

“Ahem—, yes. That works for me. I don't have any urgent meetings today. Can I meet you on the steps outside the building?” He asked. 

“Yep! Sounds good! I’ll see you— YEOW!!!” Your foot smacked your dresser as you spun towards the door. You yelped as your phone flew out of your hands and landed on the ground a solid meter away. 

You groaned, rolling onto your back and sitting up, tears springing to your eyes. 

“Shit—! Aeons, that hurt,” you winced.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)?? Is everything all right?” You heard Gepard say loudly. 

“Y-yeah. I tripped, s’all,” you grunted, placing a hand on the wall to keep yourself steady as you rose to your feet. “That definitely woke me up,”

“Take care of yourself,” he sighed, relieved.

“Yep, yep! I’ll see you— soon!” You choked out and hung up frantically. You placed both hands against the wall and hit your head against it repeatedly, groaning in shame. 

———

You were in the middle of fixing the broken cash register when a familiar blonde-haired woman walked through the door.

“Serval!” Your head shot up as you gave her an excited wave. “Good to see you! What brings you to our shop today?” 

She strolled over to the counter, where various pieces of equipment were sprawled out on the surface. 

“Mornin’ (Y/N)! Molly and I were just RAVING about how the flowers Gepard got us have livened up the place!” Serval tossed her silky hair over her shoulder. “We were thinking of buying some more, since we could really use some more color in our lives,”

“I'm sure flowers are better than soot,” you giggled. “What did the Ministry of Education say about the experiment you were running?”

“Huh?” Serval looked bewildered. 

“The research project? Y’know, the one that exploded??” A shadow of confusion flickered across your face.

“Oh! Yes, that one! They were gracious enough to give me an extension.” She shook her head up and down aggressively, her eyes rattling in her skull.

“I'm glad to hear it!” You wiped your forehead in relief, turning to some pots resting on a cabinet. “So… as for the flowers… I know you have the purple ones, so why not go with yellow? Purple can represent maturity and elegance, and yellow might round it out a bit.” You ran your fingers across the wood.

“Although, if you'd like to keep the place feeling more formal, you could go with these blue ones here,” you quipped. “They match Molly’s hair,” 

You lifted up the planter that held said flowers, which were white on the inside, but faded into a dark teal on the edges.

Serval reached out to touch them tentatively, her eyes flicking towards something behind you.

“Hmm… what’s that one over there?” She said inquisitively.

“Oh--!” You spun around to see what she was pointing at. It was a wooden window box, filled to the brim with flowers of every hue.

“That’s one of our clearance boxes! We had a mix up with the seed packets during planting time, so they’re 30% off. Pretty interesting looking, right?” You lifted up the box, your chest heaving with effort. 

“Definitely.” She peered over the walls of the box with an approving smile. “I'll take this one,”

“Really? Are you sure?” 

“One hundo percent. This one speaks to me,” she mused.

“Fair enough. Whatever pleases the Rock Star of Belobog.” You shook your head and shrugged.

“Oh please, you flatter me,” she chuckled. You pushed the components of the cash register into a neat pile to make way for the flowers. 

A ghost of a smile crossed your lips as you recalled how painstakingly long Gepard had spent picking up the flowers for his sister, and just how spontaneously she had chosen hers. 

I can’t believe I know people equally as incredible, but as different as night and day, you contemplated.

“So, (Y/N),” Serval piped up, snapping you out of your thoughts. “You seem awfully chipper today. Did something good happen?”

Maybe something involving a certain bashful captain? She thought with a sly smile. 

The air in the room seemed to turn pink as you swayed happily. 

“Well, business has been skyrocketing lately with the weather getting warmer.” You rested your head in the palm of your hand thoughtfully. “More people feel like they have the means to take care of flowers! In fact, there’s been a ton of people coming in today,”

“Awwh, that's wonderful!” She said joyfully. “...anything else?”

Her smile grew wider. Serval could almost sense there was something you weren’t telling her. You gulped. 

“Um— well, Gepard and I are heading to the theater today,” you said, a little quieter than the way you had talked previously. “I wanted to thank him for guiding me around the plaza a few days back,”

“What??? Why didn't you lead with that??” She slammed her hands on the desk, flabbergasted. You flinched and shook your head. 

“It’s not THAT big of a deal,” you brushed it off sheepishly. “Just a little outing, nothing more to it,”

Serval’s bottom lip quivered with something between joy and rage.

“It is too!” she argued. “My brother lives and breathes his work. I can't believe someone is finally helping him loosen up a bit,” She sniffled dramatically. “I think I'm getting teary-eyed!” 

You handed her the hefty window box with a smirk. “If you say so. Well then, it was great seeing you! Take good care of them,” 

“Of course! Have fun on your date!!!” Serval sang, pushing the door open.

“Wait—,”

She gave you a salute with her free hand and slipped through the crack in the door before it shut. 

Well, that was weird, to say the least,

———

“... and seventy-five grams high nutrient fertilizer,” Gepard murmured, reading off the slip of paper you had given him. He scooped some fine powder from the burlap sack, lowering himself to eye-level with the plant with the meticulousness of a scientist. 

His blue eyes were fixed on the measuring spoon, tilting it onto the plant when his sister barged in. She was carrying a box of flowers, almost slamming the door into the wall with how much foece she put in. Gepard flinched so hard he flung the spoon into the air and it hit the ceiling with a “thud”.

“Geppie!!!” Serval shouted affectionately as the spoon landed on the hardwood. “A little birdie told me that you have a date at the theater today!!” 

She sauntered in and set down the flower box on his desk. He looked on sadly as bits of soil fell onto his paperwork.

“A d-date? Where’d you get that from? And how did you even get in here!? I thought the Landau—,” he stumbled over his own words and she cut him off, too elated to notice how she was trampling his attempts to speak.

“I stopped by the flower shop this morning. You never mentioned anything of the sort!” She swayed excitedly.

“That’s because I found out today,” Gepard grumbled. “They merely had an extra ticket.” He bent down to gather some of the fertilizer into a pile on the floor.

Unless… they said it was a date..? He felt hope rising in his chest but he quickly squashed it. Hope? No, he wasn’t hoping. Of course not. 

Serval smirked, stepping closer to him. 

“Don't think I don't notice how utterly smitten you are.” She looked at her nails with a frivolous expression. “You know, how your face gets all rosy, your voice gets higher, and you listen extra hard when they speak?” 

Gepard’s lips pulled back into a thin line. He glanced at the bamboo plant one last time before spinning around and dropping onto the bed, the mattress straining with the sudden weight.

The Captain rested his head in his hands, heaving a sigh as his blue eyes stared onto the floor. 

“Is it… that obvious?” He said quietly.

Serval widened her eyes in surprise. Usually her brother stood his ground and brushed her off. She took a break from her teasing to plop down on the feather bed next to him. 

“Maybe just to me,” she answered. She leaned back and stared at the ceiling. 

“After all, I've known you long enough that I've never seen you care about anything this much. Your sister gets a little worried sometimes! You practically live and breathe your work.” Serval leaned slightly off the bed to get a closer look at his face, analyzing his features.

“And, as much as I love to tease you about it, I’m really happy my cute little brother has found someone he wants to offer his heart to,”

She rifled a hand through his hair teasingly, sending golden strands everywhere. Gepard’s hands shot up defensively with a grunt. They sat in silence for a bit, until she spoke up again.

“Also, I’ve noticed you've gotten pretty good at taking care of plants now too! Look at you, my little gardener!” Said Serval. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair now. I doubt the Landau Residence really wants me around anyways.” She shrugged, picking up her box. She kicked the door open unceremoniously and skipped out into the hallway, leaving a plethora of confused faces in her wake. 

Gepard sighed. She hadn’t let him get a single word in edgewise. It was the trademark Landau stubbornness, after all.

———

Vaska’s stream of praises for the cafe you had chosen today were endless. She had the expression of someone who had just won the lottery as she bit into a cinnamon strudel. 

“Mmm, thish ish sooo delicious...” She licked the sugary dust off her fingers in satisfaction, wiping her lips and picking up another one. “How’d you find this place?”

“A friend introduced me,” you replied as you sipped your raspberry mint tea. “I'm surprised you didn't know about it, actually,”

“Well, I'm trying to avoid spending money because I’m saving for the upcoming sequel of my favorite book!” She giggled. The air seemed to be filled with sparkles all of a sudden. 

“Is it to Tale of the Winterlands?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. 

“Bingo!”

“Aren't you afraid of it being confiscated?” 

“Not anymore,” Vaska crossed her arms with a smile. “It’s pending approval. Anyways, I didn't know you had friends outside of the flower shop. I'm glad you're finally branching out!” 

She rested her index finger on her cheek before continuing. “Although… Meg is gonna have your head if you keep coming back late after deliveries,”

“Gah, I know, I know. I just get so caught up talking to one of the clients. The friend I was just talking about,”

“Hmph. I'm just trying to keep you out of the fire, you know. On the other hand, she sounds delightful! What’s she like?”

“Um,” you paused. “He’s a guard,”

“A guard?” Her eyes glittered as she leaned across the table. “No way. An Underworlder and a guard, huh? What an interesting pair!” 

You chuckled. “I guess you're right. He can be a little awkward sometimes, but he's very genuine and diligent!” 

“As all good guards are, of course,” she nodded. A surprised expression flickered across your face.

“Vaska… Is there something you want to tell me?” You jested. “I didn't know you had a type. Besides the musician, of course,”

You've never seen someone’s expression go deadpan so quickly. 

“No. Nope. You've got it all wrong!!” She crossed her forearms in an “X”. 

“The idea of romance isn't half bad, but being in it sounds way too hard. If anything, my type would be more like Anna, from—,”

“Tale of the Winterlands,” you interjected again. She hummed in approval.

“That’s understandable,” you said. “You’re both very independent,”

“Aww, you think so?” A rosy blush spread across your co-worker’s face. “It's so nice to have a friend like you,”

She fiddled with the straw in her drink. “Anyways… what's the name of your guard friend?” You took a sip of your own before replying.

“Gepard,” 

Vaska’s jaw dropped through the floor.

“WHAT?!?” She stood up and slammed her hands onto the table. You recoiled in shock, her exclamation almost blowing your beret off. Heads turned towards your table as you panicked.

“Shh! Vaska, keep it down!” You hissed, placing your hands on her forearms in an attempt to soothe her. She sat back down and began to chew on her fingernails.

“Gepard… Gepard Landau??”

“Uh-huh,”

“Blonde hair, blue eyes, built like a tank?”

“Yeah, what about him? He’s not like a serial killer or something, right??”

Your mind flashed back to the times he directed you to the inside of the sidewalk or smiled tenderly at the flowers in the shop when he thought no one was looking.

No way—,

“No, goodness gracious no. Of course not! Gepard is the furthest thing from a serial killer you could get.” She shook her head vigorously, her beret flying off and drifting to the floor. She leaned down from her chair to grab it, her face still red from shouting.

“Then WHY is this such a big deal??” You inquired with an exasperated look on your face. 

“It’s because HE'S THE CAPTAIN OF THE SILVERMANE GUARDS,” she spat out in a single breath. She let out a wheeze as she dropped her head onto the table.

It was your turn for your jaw to drop. 

“Th--, Th-the Captain?!? Oh Aeons…” you stammered, biting on a mint leaf. You winced as the icy juices spread across your tongue. 

“Didn't you notice no other ‘guard’ in the area looked like him?”

“I mean, yes. But I thought the guards OUTSIDE the city wore stuff like that too,” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear nervously.

“Oh by the PRESERVATION.” She ran a palm across her face. 

“And— and I did notice people gave us some weird looks when we danced in the square—,”

“You DANCED WITH HIM???”

Vaska was about to rip her hair out. You buried your face in your arms and nodded. 

“...Vaska, does this mean I have to stop hanging out with him?” You said quietly.

She grabbed you by the cheeks and pulled you close.

“NO. Of course not. It’s just that.. I’d hate for you to be involved in some high class squabble or something,” she snorted. “You know how easily agitated the nobles are,”

“Er—, Not really?”

“Well, they are! Who knows, you probably already have a bunch of jealous suitors!” 

You held your palms out to placate her. “I mean, Gepard is great and all, but it’s really not like that. He values his work more than anything,” 

“You can't ever be too safe.” She gave you a warning glance. “If rumors get spread, and you lose your job, who would I look forward to talking to every day??” 

“I’d still come and visit!” You protested. “And I hardly believe Meg would kick me out because of a bunch of silly rumors,” you said flatly.

“That is NOT the issue,” she groaned. You reached out and clasped her hands.

“Don't worry, Vaska. I'm gonna be careful, okay?” 

“I trust you, but just know I will be terrified. Forever. ‘Til the end of days,” she bemoaned. 

“I get where you’re coming from,” you reassured her. “Just remember, this is my decision. I’d never take on anything I couldn’t handle!”

She pouted, stretching her arm across the cafe table and snagging your tea. She took a sip and handed it back to you.

“Ugh. Too much milk,” she scowled before quickly returning to her normal self. “Now, Tell me what being friends with the Captain of the Silvermane Guards is like…” 

You laughed gently. 

“Of course. I'd be happy to,”

———

Later, after you had left the cafe, you opened up your phone and sent a text to Serval. 

To: Serval

You: Serval, why did no one bother telling me that your brother is the captain of the Silvermane Guards???

Serval: …belobog’s last bastion of hope?

You: Do NOT avoid the question

Serval: ahahaha

Serval: sorry, sorry

Serval: I thought you knew

You: I did not.

Serval: oops

Serval: don’t worry, it’s not like he's any less dorky when he's commanding platoons or anything

You: SERVAL

Read at 13:22 pm ✅

Seriously???

You just about threw your phone across the street. 

———

The wind was a little stronger than usual the day you met Gepard for your theater “date”. You had to bring along a pack of tissues to keep from sniffling the entire walk there. It almost felt like little ice crystals were lodging in your throat as you breathed.

The Captain was leaning up against a wall outside of the building. He was wearing less armor than usual, this time only dressed in a white military tunic with a black jacket underneath. His usual gauntlet was missing and had been replaced with black leather gloves, and a few blue and gold metals dotted his chest. 

Wow. That is a LOT of medals, you whispered internally. You felt a little weird in your traditional Belobogian attire. You suspected people would just assume he was escorting some poor pedestrian. 

Even without the uniform you were so used to seeing, he was no less noticeable.

Or dashing, you thought, glancing off to the side. Then you remembered the conversation you had with Serval earlier. You felt something tug at your heart.

I’m sure he has his reasons, you shook your head to clear the doubt. 

“There’s quite a sizable crowd today. Is it always like this?” You spoke up, trotting beside him towards the entrance stairs. 

The building was grand, it stood out like a gem amidst gravel alongside the other buildings. It had columns made of intricately carved stone, and brilliantly dyed banners hung from every surface possible. 

“Ah, yes. The Golden Theater is a magnet for people seeking a way to spend their leisure.” Gepard adjusted the collar of his jacket. “Take care not to get trampled,”

“I’ll try,” you said haphazardly. You pulled out the delicate silver tickets from your pocket and held them up into the sunlight, examining them energetically. 

His eyes rolled down to where your small form stood shivering in the cold, but still trying your best to keep the tremor out of your voice. A part of him wanted to reach down and pull you closer. He looked forward again to prevent himself from thinking too hard about it.

Gepard noticed that your eyes lingered on him a little longer than usual, especially on the medals. He felt a twinge of nervousness somewhere deep in his chest. 

I'm sure it's nothing, he sighed inwardly. 

You arrived at the mahogany doors to the theater, held open by rather formal-looking workers, and went in. You squinted in surprise at just how bright it was due to gaudy crystal chandeliers reflecting light across the walls. It smelled like velvet and old books, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, just unfamiliar.

“You seem very excited,” he said, gazing down at you. You nodded. 

“Excited?? I’m thrilled! Yet another thing I can cross off the bucket list!” You said confidently, pressing your fist to your chest. “I'm sure you've seen these events a thousand times, right? It must be pretty weird seeing me get excited about these types of things.” You pulled at the fabric of your clothing to distract yourself. 

“This is the first time you’ve been able to take advantage of the activities offered on the Surface. It would be unreasonable of me to expect you not to be thrilled,” Gepard said, surprised. “And I haven’t, for the record. Serval was never one to enjoy formal events.” He shrugged. 

He gazed back at you as you stared at the paintings decorating the hallway. A lot of them were snowy and unforgiving landscapes, illustrating the devastation the Eternal Freeze had caused. 

“I guess you wouldnt’ve had too much time for it, either. Captain’s duties, right?” You chirped. 

Gepard froze. 

It was something about the way you said it, tinged with just a little too much enthusiasm. 

You continued to walk, seemingly unbothered while he frantically searched for something to bring up. You stopped at a display of a metal sculpture and “oohed” at it, then dodged a random passerby as more people began to stream in. It didn’t look like you were mad, at least. 

That feeling of nervousness from earlier resurfaced, making him feel like his insides were churning. Gepard was at a loss for words. He had assumed you knew at first, but it became clearer as time went on that you didn’t.

It was unusual for him NOT to mention it, but after your first meeting, he felt like he shouldn’t. He didn’t want to lose that strange feeling of being on equal footing with someone. 

You were so genuine and inquisitive, unlike the numerous businessmen and aristocrats of the city. The burden on his shoulders lessened the slightest bit when he talked to you. 

It’s not like he minded dedicating his life to his duties, but he didn’t want to let go of the warmth you offered him. 

Was he selfish for wanting that?

His eyebrows scrunched up as he mulled over what the right thing to say would be, but he couldn't drum up a solution before an usher gave you both a slip of paper and showed you to your seats. They were more towards the back of the chamber, next to a door covered in black fabric to minimize the amount of light getting in. You two sat down on the velvet cushions in silence, while the auditorium around you was bustling with chatter. 

You clenched your fists in your lap, beginning to get a little nervous at the silence as well. Gepard was a man of few words, but it was far too quiet for your liking. 

Was that the wrong thing to say? Your thoughts fired at a mile a minute. Maybe he thinks I’m snooping around… Does he think I only want to get closer to him because of his position??

I guess people of our standing wouldn’t normally hang out anyways. Vaska had a point. I do feel kind of weird now that I know,

I’m not afraid of the nobles, you realized. I’m afraid I’m going to bring him down, 

Scenarios started flashing into your head, making you squeeze your eyes shut as you tried to expel them from your brain. As the curtains rose and the lights dimmed, you tried to focus your mind on the story instead.

A show this grand had never graced the likes of the Underworld, you realized as it started. The play you had bought tickets to on a whim was called a “musical”, you believed they called it. 

I don't see why they need to sing to tell a story, you thought skeptically. The lead singer was gorgeous, though. Her name was Tamila, if you remembered correctly. You took a look at the pamphlet that the usher gave you, when blinding light filled your vision. 

Blinking like a warp trotter in the headlights of a streetcar, you realized one of the spotlights had turned your way, onto the door, to be exact. 

You saw the fabric swish open as a woman in a gilded mask whisked out, belting out a new musical number and leaping down the aisle. Several more dancers followed behind her, swooping their arms in synchrony. 

You had to admit, it was a cool idea, although you could use a little less light in your face. You figured it had to do with the fact you had only experienced the serene light of the geomarrow column most of your life, not whatever the heck this was. 

Even with the ridiculous amount of light in your eyes, you came to realize with a start that most of it wasn’t even hitting you. Gepard had it way worse, he was actually catching the majority of the spotlight. You could see how his blue eyes were squinting as he tried his best to focus on the scene. It was kind of cute, actually. 

Huh, so it’s just like in real life too, you thought, amused. You made up your mind at that very moment. 

If Gepard was the sun, it was only natural others would live in his shadow. It didn’t matter if he was the captain or not, as long as you still wanted to spend time together, everything was fine as it was.

Besides, if anyone ever gave you flack, you could just get out your old mining pickaxe. 

You turned your eyes back to the play, the troupe of people that had entered from the door had finally joined the main group onstage. The dance grew into a passionate frenzy, and then finished with the masked woman sweeping Tamila into the air, then catching her as the cast cheered. 

Clapping joyfully, you watched the actors bow while the audience showered them in bouquets. 

Wow. No wonder there were so many people coming in today, you realized. You wilted a bit as one of the actors stepped on a Rainbow and turned it to mush. 

Gepard couldn’t help but smile at your appreciation for the show as you left the theater, stopping outside the building to avoid the worst of the crowd.

The wind was even stronger than before. You tucked your face into the collar of your shirt miserably while shuffling behind Gepard in hopes he could block the wind for you. 

“Th-thank you for coming with me G-Gepard,” you shivered. “I know h-how you must have a limited amount of free time,”

“Of course,” he replied. “With the Fragmentum letting up, I’ve been able to be out and about more often,” 

The Captain noticed you shying behind him, so he stepped a little closer. You probably weren’t quite used to the cold yet. You thanked him silently.

“In fact,” he continued. “I’ve taken it upon myself to be a volunteer tour guide at the museum as of late,”

“The History and uh… whatever one?” You sniffled.

“History and Culture, yes.” He nodded wisely. He brushed a couple stray hairs out of his face but the wind immediately blew them back.

“Gepard, that’s incredible. You work as hard as ten men!” You giggled. He snorted gently.

“I should stop by sometime. Do you know when the hours are?”

“I’m afraid I don't,” Gepard said, placing a hand on his chin deliberately. “But there should be a sign outside the entrance,”

“If you want, we can stop by before we part ways,” he offered. The Captain pointed over to a faraway building as you walked down the stairs, the crowd having finally eased up.

“Only if you want to. I don't want to drag you by the ear or anything,” you grinned but immediately regretted it as your teeth chattered.

He shook his head. “I'd never offer to do anything I didn’t want to do,”

You gave him a skeptical look. 

“You offered to clean Serval’s workshop…”

———

You could hardly stop yourself from breaking into a run as you neared the museum entrance. A fountain with a large Geomarrow heater sat outside the building and you almost forgot what you were there for as you watched it, mesmerized. A museum employee was standing in front of a corkboard, which you took a quick picture of. Then you turned back to the fountain. 

“Whoa, running water,” you murmured, awestruck. You turned to Gepard, who was standing a few meters away, and called,

“Hey! Gepard! How much trouble would I be in if I drank some??”

“The plumbing system in this city goes back 700 years. I wouldn’t recommend it,” he responded flatly, folding his arms. 

You turned back to the fountain, humbled. You didn’t need any more iron in your system than you already had. 

Resting your arms on the rim of the base, a glint of bronze flickered in the corner of your vision. A small coin landed in the water with a plop. 

You turned to see where it came from, promptly spotting Gepard walking up to you. He tapped you on the shoulder and placed a coin in the palm of your hand. He made a flicking motion with his thumb, which you mimicked, closing your eyes. The coin flipped into the air and landed in the top level of the fountain.

“Nice job,” Gepard commented. You pumped a fist into the air. 

“So… what did you wish for?” You inquired. He sighed.

“I don’t think I’m liable to tell you that,” said the Captain with a serious glance at you. Too serious. You prodded him with your index finger.

Giving up, you looked back at the water but suddenly something large and made of metal crashed into you from behind. 

You toppled in headfirst, inadvertently inhaling a huge gulp of water. You sputtered as you panicked and tried to figure out which way was up, when you felt arms wrap around your legs and back, lifting you out of the basin. 

Clinging to the chest of your rescuer, you coughed harshly, the cold air scraping your lungs while water dripped out your mouth. You were lowered gently onto the ground, recognizing the medals on Gepard’s coat as he stood up and leaned over you. 

“(Y/N), are you alright?” 

Is this the face of God? You wondered, dazed as you stared into his blue eyes. He shouted something you were definitely not paying attention to.

“(Y/N)—,” 

You sat up, almost knocking him in the head. Your eyes traveled towards two guilty looking kids, standing behind a cart wearing museum worker IDs.

“That was quite the fall. Did you hit anything?” 

“I don’t think so.” You winced, struggling to your feet. The museum aide hurried over.

“I am so, so, so sorry. We had a new display coming in and I should have told them to be more careful—,” You blinked at her as she clutched at her head in worry.

“Hey, it’s all right, really. I was like that when I got my first job,” you reassured her. You placed your hands on your hips and faced them.

“Although, if you two aren’t careful from now on, the Supreme Guardian might eat you for lunch, got it?” You said, amused. 

They both bowed and hurried off with the cart. A sculpture labeled “The Galactic Baseballer” peeked out from the side of it. 

Interesting name, you thought.

“You handled that well,” Gepard said, bringing you back to reality. 

“Did I?” You tilted your head at him, lifting your sleeves to let the water drip off them. “Aeons above, I really took it upon myself to absorb every possible drop of water possible,” 

You crossed your arms over your soaked chest, feeling a chill beginning to seep into your bones.

Gepard’s shoulders tensed up. He swiveled his head around, scanning the city, while resting his hands on your forearms. You were left with no time to think before he swept you off your feet and hoisted you onto his shoulder. 

You were frazzled beyond belief. 

“Wait— wait, wait. Gepard what are you—,” Your eyes whisk across the pavement, surveying for any nosy onlookers. 

The Captain carried you to one of the many metal benches dotting the city with a geomarrow heater next to it. He set you down, before taking off his jacket and wrapping it around you gently.

‘Mind the wet sleeves, I’ll be right back,” he said before starting off towards some unknown destination. You basked in the newfound heat given off by the appliance, holding out your hands to gather as much of it as you could.

I feel like an abandoned pet, your inner voice said. You exhaled, your breath leaving a trail in the air. Thank Qlipoth for these heaters, 

Gepard’s coat was surprisingly comfortable. It was obviously made of durable materials meant to trap in heat. You pulled it closer around your shivering form, nuzzling into the collar contentedly. 

A couple minutes later, when you felt yourself beginning to drift off, you heard the familiar clanking of boots again. You opened your eyes, and lo and behold, it was Gepard!

“My apologies for taking so long. I grabbed you something to wear while your clothes dry.” He held out the item of clothing at arm's length for you to see better. 

You inhaled sharply as you realized it was the same piece of clothing you had been staring at so intently the day you toured the city together. It looked like it was exactly your size, too. 

He remembered?

You felt your heart start to race as he handed it to you. You took it gratefully, taking a moment to stare at the piece. Burying your face in it, you felt tears begin to prick at your eyes. 

It shouldn’t be possible for someone to be this kind,

It was honestly overwhelming.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, your voice muffled. “I’m warming up just fine.” You finally raised your head, blinking the tears away, and rubbed your shoes together to get some of the feeling back into your feet.

“Let’s get you home,” he stated. “The windchill on the surface is nothing to joke about,” 

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you replied. You got up, still wearing Gepard’s coat, and hung onto his arm for good measure while you walked. You did mourn the loss of the heater, but this time, your teeth didn’t chatter.

“I’m sorry for having to borrow your coat, even though it’s cold out,” you murmured. “You really are the perfect person to protect the city, you know that?” You smiled up at him gently. Gepard’s nerves buzzed with electricity. 

“It’s nothing extraordinary,” he sighed. “I merely take protecting the things I care about seriously. That’s what being a guard is about,”

He tried not to pay attention to how tenaciously you were gripping onto his sleeve.

“Well, I think you’re extraordinary.” You stuck your tongue out at him.

As cheesy as that is,

You handed Gepard his coat as you returned to your quaint little flower shop. How badly he wanted to tell you that you could borrow it, and return it to him later so he could see you again. He smiled to himself as you went back inside. 

This would do for now.

———

“Great heavens, (Y/N). Did you fall into the ocean or something?” Vaska exclaimed as you dragged yourself upstairs.

“No,” you grumbled, the tips of your coat still dripping. “We all know oceans are a myth,”

“Looking at you, I'd believe they were real,” she fired back as you retreated into your room. You hurriedly shed your wet coat and shoes, putting on the garment Gepard had bought you. 

You turned to look at it from every angle in the full-length mirror before deciding to collapse onto your bed. You combed your fingers through your hair, picking up your floral-patterned pillow and squeezing it tightly. 

Am I— am I in some kind of rom-com?? You groaned inwardly. Your face was flushed with something along the likes of happiness, embarrassment, or both.

Gepard had been nothing but kind during the time you spent together. After years of being a mere vagrant, you almost felt… special when he looked at you.

His blue eyes were so thoughtful and considerate and—,

No!!! I’ve got to keep it together! 

Rolling over, you pressed the pillow into your face and let a guttural shriek loose from your lungs. You chucked it across the room, your hair now a mess.

Meg’s voice rang from downstairs. “KEEP IT DOWN UP THERE!!” 

the snow is less than comforting for the captain of the silvermane guards. GEPARD is no stranger to it though. he is undeniably used to the raw chill of the eternal freeze, his nose flushed a subtle hue of red to match his cheeks. snowflakes catch on his eyelashes and despite his attempts, his teeth still chatter when none of his subordinates are looking.

after all, it'd be awkward for them to see their captain struggling so nonchalantly with the cold, wouldn't it? as a landau, he couldn't bear to even consider the thought of being humiliated like that. he could handle the cold just fine, as long as he kept telling himself that then it'd be the only truth jarilo-vi would know.

except it wouldn't be the only truth. gepard knows that very well when his eyes meet yours over a cup of coffee at the goethe hotel in the administrative district. he's here on behalf of the supreme guardian doubling security for an event but he can't pass up a chance to see his childhood friend, no way.

you're not dumb - you most certainly have never been in his eyes - and you're one of his longest friends, hailing from another noble family in belobog. gepard faintly remembers you tinkering with mechanisms with his older sister as a young child and even more so the secret adventures you'd take lynx on while she was still a toddler - ones you thought nobody knew about. you were fairly convinced you'd been sneaky enough but at that age, lynx couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

you've drank in the way he reacts to the cold so much over the past years, it almost humours you that he's never truly adapted to it. you were born during this eternal freeze and it's all you've ever known but even underneath all his armour and layers, gepard hates it. he spends almost every waking second of his day in the cold, watching snowflakes dance through the air in an alluring dance that mesmerises him when he gets a five minute break from his duties.

"maybe i should buy you a scarf," you chide as you raise the steaming hot mug to your lips, sipping at the liquid that warms your body. gepard notes that your lips have always been soft despite the harsh cold, you've always taken care of them well, "there's enough skin showing on your neck to please a vampire."

gepard scoffs at your words, rolling his eyes as he leans back in the chair nonchalantly. his upper arms rest on the arms of the chair, one of his legs stretched out under the table as he finally relaxes a little; even if it's just for a moment. your presence has always had that effect on him. he's not the captain of the silvermane guards when he's with you - he's just gepard, that's all he'll ever be.

"vampires, really y/n?" the blond's lips pull into a tight line and you can't help but snicker at how serious the middle child of the landau family could be, "i don't need a scarf."

"sure thing, you wouldn't know until christmas..." the look that gepard is glaring in your direction makes your voice trail off, a light giggle escaping your lips as you raise your hands in a surrender, shaking your head. gepard sometimes wonders how the two of you bonded as children. you were much closer to his two sisters; serval would always steal you to show you what she'd been fiddling with when the two of you were tucked away, children's books seated on your laps and woven scarves wrapped around your necks - the very ones you'd been hinting at just now.

even as lynx grew older, you were commonly found red-handed trying to sneak out of belobog together. the two of you would grumble as serval and gepard pinched your ears, tugging you back to the landau family's manor as they scolded you - specifically you though, they were all too familiar with the concept that you was the mastermind behind the adventures.

gepard sometimes wishes he knew what pulled the two of you together like an invisible thread, some kind of magnetic reaction that neither of you could stop. despite the differences and lack of idea why the two of you were friends, you were inseparable; that was until gepard became the captain of the silvermane guards. now it seems that he's more devoted to the supreme guardian than he is to his own family's name.

you knew though. you knew the pull you felt as children was a dumb, silly crush that you never shook off. the sweet young blond toddler who would sit with you at school lunch, clasping his lunchbox with a toothy grin and who noticed you despite the things people whispered, that's exactly who you fell for. except you were almost a hundred percent certain you'd grow out of it.

you didn't.

in fact, it got worse.

and to make matters worse, no matter how much you'd tried to subtly hint to gepard that someone liked him, fawned over him even, he didn't take the hint at all. it was like talking to a brick wall, your words seemingly going into one ear and coming out the other as if his mind was hollow when it came to anything romantic - you were starting to think it was.

what you didn't realise was the seemingly naïve blond harboured feelings, ones he just didn't understand. he'd become a work devoted man - his every waking breath taken in honour of the supreme guardian, his every word uttered in the name of the landau family. gepard didn't have the time of day to ponder on emotions, at least not ones that would create obstacles in his pursuit of safety and peace within belobog's walls.

he was not only a brick wall for you but for himself and he didn't even notice it. you raise the hot mug to your lips again, your eyes trailing out of the nearby window to take in the way snowflakes waltz, their patterns unique and never once the same as the other. sometimes that's how it feels when you look at the souls of belobog. gepard's icy blue eyes follow your gaze even though he's tired of seeing the snow.

"when are you settling down, geppie?" your voice rings out into the awkward silence, harmonic and a gentle melody that gepard wishes would lull him to sleep when he's restless, his lithe body aching from the days spent in his armour like a statue in the harsh cold. he'll toss and turn, unable to rest when his mind tortures him with the thoughts of the guards under his command that he's lost in the past.

the silence is a killer, tearing you apart as you reconsider your sudden question. you was being nosey, you admit and you sounded a lot like a rich aunt wanting to know when he's having kids - this wasn't your intentions but you wanted to know where you stood with your childhood crush. it'd be better to know now rather than later, at least in your eyes.

"settling down isn't necessary y/n," he comments suddenly in response, clearing his throat awkwardly despite the hot flush in his cheeks that he blames on the geomarrow heating system inside the hotel, "i have work to focus on."

a sad smile crosses your face for a mere few seconds and it doesn't go unnoticed by gepard. he doesn't push it but he takes a moment to consider what could possibly have made you ask that question. while he ponders with no clear answer in sight, there's a realisation that hits like a freight train - gepard isn't ever going to give you even a prospect of a chance with him. it's harsh and sudden, clinging to your heart and tearing it apart. you cover up the pain with a sip of your drink, the very one going cold.

there couldn't be a way in the cosmos that gepard hadn't an idea about your crush; not after all these years that you'd be pining for him. the gifts you'd wrapped so neatly, tied with a ribbon bow - effort that you'd never put in for anyone else's gifts - that would end up in his gloved hands every christmas, birthday and numerous other special occasions; special occasions such as his promotion to captain of the silvermane guards.

you'd wrote a letter confession once in your neatest handwriting, presenting it to the maids of the landau family as they giggled unanimously at the shy front of you they'd finally witnessed. unfortunately for you, that time was a dud since in the hurry of the morning you'd wrote aforementioned letter, you'd failed to even sign it off with your name. gepard, in all of his blind sightedness, didn't even recognise your handwriting let alone mention the letter to you.

with a grimace - one that you're unsure if it came from the bitter, cold drink in your mug or the situation at hand, - you realise it's probably best to move on. it feels as if your heart is shattering, crumbling in your very hands as gepard raises his lukewarm mug to his lips, a faint grimace also crossing his face at the temperatures of your drinks now. you could still support gepard the way you are now, as the two kids that used to read children's books together. you'd just never be able to settle for more than that.

the air is thick as the two of you take the distaste for your drinks as a sign to leave, that the brief catch-up was over and the awkward air could fade out. yet gepard can't just leave you on the front steps of the goethe hotel, of course not. to make your breaking heart worse, he's determined to walk you back to your family home - which isn't far, mind you but you still spite him for being so hopeless with feelings.

"i'm being sent back to the frontlines soon," he mentions calmly as his eyelashes catch snowflakes and you're reminded of when you'd stick your tongues out to catch them as kids. you tear your gaze away from him but your brows furrow in concern, "the supreme guardian wants high defences around the fragmentum while it eases away."

"you shouldn't go," you mumble before you can even think about the repercussions of your words. gepard's eyes widen and he looks at you in confusion, "i mean - i'm just scared for you, geppie. it's dangerous out there. why can't you just stay inside the city walls?"

"it's my duty, y/n!" gepard exclaims, his brows knitted together as he pauses walking to turn to you. you'd never argued back against his work before, why did you suddenly care so much? "it's my duty... to abide to the supreme guardian, it always has been - you wouldn't understand-"

"no, maybe i don't but i love you and you don't seem to understand that either!" you blurt out angrily, your fists clenched as tears prick at your eyes. you could cover it as the cold but your emotions are written heavily on your face and gepard pauses, his chapped lips parted in shock as he takes a moment.

you go quiet, short breaths of air gasping from your lips as you try to calm down following the ordeal. you're hurt, torn by gepard's lack of ability to read that after all these years, you'd been the most loyal person to him while he'd been running off being that exact person to the supreme guardian. all you wanted was for him to notice that.

it's almost as if gepard's body and mind have to restart, blinking slowly as he stares at the way your eyes are glittering in the brief glimpse of sunlight peeking from behind dull clouds. his pulse is racing to the point where he can hear his heart beating in his ears, drowning out the idle chatter of people around them that don't seem to quite notice the situation between the children of the two noble families in belobog. gepard's stomach twists and turns and for a moment, he considers whether these are the butterflies that serval and lynx always spoke about with none other than you.

the blond can't bear to see the way tears are threatening to spill down your cheeks a moment longer yet he also can't appear to form the words needed to even remotely convey his feelings or comfort you. so instead, he follows his heart for once. his white gloved hands reach up, cupping your cold cheeks delicately before he presses his lips to yours, pulling you closer without a second thought.

the day that gepard returns to the frontlines arrives sooner than you'd expected. to cope with the absence of your now boyfriend - a term that still makes you giggle like a school kid when you utter it to anybody, - you'd taken to helping out at belobog's very own history and culture museum. you enjoyed it more than you could probably put into words, especially teaching the children small history lessons like you were doing currently.

the hall is bustling but the kids' faces light up with every detail you go over, wide grins on their faces. out of the corner of your eyes, during the middle of a sentence, you caught sight of a familiar head of blond hair approaching from across the hall. your heart speeds up, a hopeless smile on your face as you quickly return to what you was saying to the children.

a small smile etches onto gepard's face as he leans against a nearby wall, listening to your history lesson intently. you're fantastic with kids, always so expressive to help fuel their curiosities and growing excitement and he can't help but remember just how well you would handle lynx when she was just a small child. he folds his arms across his chest, admiring the way your eyes glitter in the warm lamps that light the museum up - a much better sight than the way your eyes glittered a few days ago.

your lesson is soon over, the kids hurriedly following pela as she takes over your next job the moment she catches sight of gepard so casually leaning in the museum with a hopelessly in love smile on his face - one he can't exactly hide anymore whenever he looks at you. you approach with a confused smile, a stack of information papers in your hands.

"aren't you supposed to be at the frontlines right now?" you ask softly, tilting your head as you stand before the tall blond man. gepard shrugs lightly, the most carefree you'd seen him for a long time. that grin on his face grows and it begins to rub off on you too.

"the frontlines can wait, lady bronya heard my reasoning and granted me permission to stay within belobog for a while longer," he muses, blue eyes sparkling with a mischievous look you'd lacked to see from him since you were children, "why? not happy to see me?"

you consider asking what the reasoning was that he'd presented to the supreme guardian, although you knew that bronya was a soft soul underneath that tough guise she settles in for the role of the supreme guardian. you shake the thought of questioning him from your mind, leaning forward to press your lips to his softly. the stack of papers in your hand reaches up to hide your faces during your intimate moment and gepard grins, wrapping his arms around your waist as if he couldn't survive without pulling you closer.

he may have been a few (many) years late but there wasn't a chance in the cosmos that he was going to let you go now - the frontlines could indeed wait.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

“are you serious!” serval shoved gepard, “i thought you were about to die or something!”

gepard recoiled at serval’s shove; his sister was stronger than most people thought, “it feels like i am! every time i’m around them my heart rate quickens so much that i think i’m about to have a heart attack. i get all nervous on the inside and i can barely think with them beside me.”

aeons, gepard has definitely fallen in love with you.

“wait⎯so, where are you gonna go from here?” serval leaned on the counter, trying to process all the words her brother confessed.

“that’s the thing,” gepard sighed again. he sounded like a lovesick puppy, “i don’t know. that’s why i came here, i thought you’d be able to help.”

“um. you are aware of my past relationship with cocolia, right? i think i’m like the least qualified person you should be asking romance advice from,” serval pointed out.

“i don’t know who else i could tell,” gepard ran a hand through his hair. this was really stressing him out.

“how about you just… tell them?” serval suggested.

“no!!” gepard shook his head distraughtly, “i can’t do that. what if they don’t feel the same?”

“then it’s not meant to be,” serval said, “simple as that.”

“but it’s not,” gepard whined. serval thought he was making this a lot more complicated than it needed to be. when she was his age, she confessed her feelings to cocolia like it was nothing. they were happy until the break up anyway.

but then it donned on serval. gepard had little to no relationship experience. the only “experience” serval remembers him having was when they were children: his friend had a crush on him and tried to confessed, but gepard rejected her.

that’s why gepard was so distressed. he had no idea how to go on with this. these feelings for you? all new. what he missed out as a teenager, he is now getting as an adult.

“tell you what,” serval wrapped her arm around her brother’s shoulder, “i’ll get this sorted out. trust me. yn will never know about this,” she reassured him.

“you just go along with your guardly duties. i’ll help you,” serval grinned. she knew that she had the perfect plan. except, she couldn’t do it alone.

pela already knew about your crush on the silvermane guard captain. every time he greeted the two of you at the book store, pela practically saw the hearts in your eyes. it was sickening and disgusting, but it was cute too.

what pela didn’t know, however, was that gepard has a crush on you as well.

serval came to pela just a few minutes after gepard’s confession. she knew that she probably shouldn’t have told pela right after the conversation happened, but serval didn’t know how else to console gepard.

“so… you’re telling me that they both like each other?!” serval slammed her hands on the counter. “and they’re both too scared to confess!?”

“that’s exactly what i said, yes,” pela monotonously replied.

you knew that there couldn’t be anything between you and gepard. it was highly improbable that you, a bookstore owner, would be able to gain the captain of the silvermane guard’s interest. it seemed like something straight out of a fictional (key word: fictional) romance novel.

so you appreciated his friendship while he was around. sometimes, as a way to become closer to the captain, you’d suggest different books to him every week. despite being on the front lines quite often, he always comes back to see you. well, he comes back for the books anyway.

serval groaned into her hands, “so what do we do? they both like each other but they literally can’t bear to admit it.”

pela smirked. she’s read enough romance novels to figure out what to do next.

“two words, serval,” pela smirked, “grand. gesture.”

gepard took a few deep breaths before approaching your book store. after his chat with serval, he's been distressed the entire day. he had these feelings for you storming all over his body; occasionally, they'd get so strong that it would feel like those feelings would overtake him.

he opened the door, book in hand, and greeted you formally. gepard couldn't help it: he was so nervous, he wasn't able to function straight.

"hello, captain gepard," you turned around. you were on a latter stacking books on top of bookshelves. originally, you thought it would be cool to have towering shelves, however you quickly learned that it was extremely impractical and difficult.

"i told you," gepard stood near the counter, refusing to slouch in your presence, "you can call me gepard."

"and i told you," you grunted, trying to reach a higher spot on a shelf, "to drop the formalities," you grinned to yourself.

gepard noticed your (potentially) perilous situation and quickly got near the end of the latter. in the case that you fall, at least gepard would be there to catch you.

fortunately, you made your way down the tall latter peacefully. as you descended, the sight of gepard holding down the latter for you made you flush. it was the bare minimum, but it still made your heart speed up.

when he reached out his hand to guide you down (it was out of instinct), you gave him a warm smile. it looked easy on the outside, but you were burning up on the inside. similarly, gepard had the same reaction. for you, he'd do anything.

"thank you," you held onto his hand for a little longer. once you realized what you were doing you quickly recoiled your hand away and apologized. gepard wished your hand was still entwined with his; he wanted to hold onto to the feeling of your hand in his. gepard wanted to trace patterns on your hands, wanted to feel every part of them.

as an attempt to dissipate the tension (it was making you nervous), you decided to ask gepard for help. "we had a busy day yesterday. a best seller recently came out; people were storming the shelves. good for my profit but not good for my sanity," you let out an airy laugh, "would you mind helping me clean up?"

realizing what you just did (asking the captain of the silvermane guards for help) you quickly added, "unless you're busy! then i'll be okay. you can leave. i'll be fine," you rambled.

gepard parted his lips, almost as if he was about to say something. how could you ever think he wouldn't make time for you? even so, he'd deploy a few other guards if you needed help. he'd make sure your needs were met as soon as possible.

he reached his arm out; his hands were close to your collarbone. then he reached back, scared of what would happen next. how silly. the captain of the silvermane guards was not scared of no monster, but of rejection of the one he likes.

"i'll stay for anything," gepard blurted. you were taken aback for a second, but then once you realized what he had just said, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and covertly pinched yourself to make sure that whatever was happening was not a dream.

gepard didn't intend to add, "anything," to his sentence. but his mind was thinking it, and then it just accidentally came out. he meant what he said though. if the bluntness of his voice didn't show his sincerity, the blush that was slowly grazing his face probably did.

"thank you, gepard," you bit the inside of your lip to keep yourself from beaming too hard. you had to turn away from the captain once again, for your smile at his words would be too embarrassing to show. how silly of you to act so giddy and childish at one simple word.

gepard thinks he could hear you say his name a million times, and he would never get bored. he wants to hear his name on your lips as if it were a mantra; you've said his name a few times before, and each time he swears he gets more and more addicted to the sound.

"how about i start on the right and you'll start on the left. that way, we'll both finish in the middle!" you clapped your hands together. you gave gepard a reassuring smile.

you two started on opposite sides, but how gepard wished that you two would be closer. however, there are positives to this situation. gepard can brainstorm ideas for the "grand gesture" pela and serval texted him about.

gepard already had ideas in mind. he just needed to figure out the material for them. he obviously will not tear out papers from a book; that will cause more harm than good (for you and gepard; he cares about books).

while gepard was planning, you were blushing. you still couldn't believe he actually stayed with you. surely, there are more important deeds than helping out a leisurely bookstore owner. and this was the most boring task ever: organizing books. yet, gepard was still here. and he was only a few feet away from you.

you turned back to observe gepard; you wanted to see if you had trapped him in a boring task or not. to your surprise, gepard seemed to be enjoying this. he would flip through pages of various books, spend time reading the summaries; gepard would even go as far to reading the first few pages of some books.

gepard liked to read. at first, he started coming to the bookstore to fetch some books for pela. however, after he met you, he began to adopt a newfound interest in books that he never had before. he read some of pela's books, discovered that he did not like them, and went to browse for more. that's when you came up. you thought you had talked his entire ear off that entire morning; you went on and on and on about what kind of books he would like.

you tried to ignore him afterwards; you even offered the books for free because you were so embarrassed. but gepard kept coming back. your recommendations impressed him: gepard had never met anyone who was so meticulous at their craft. and he loved hearing you talk. he loved your rambles, your rants, your reviews. maybe that was the first sign.

gepard caught your gaze as he turned around. he had the same motivation as you: he wanted to see how you were faring in this task. did you miss the proximity you had before? are you flustered as well? do you like him too?

you two were both staring at each other, thoughts racing, until you shouted, "see something you like?" to break the tension.

gepard thought the question was a taunt at first; similar to asking, "like what you see?"

"no!" he abruptly shouted, trying to hide the fact that he was just staring at you. and then he realized the real meaning of your question: he was browsing the books with such intensity. the truth was, he was trying to find your favorite books. you've informed him about them before, always on your bookish rants. he was going to use them for his gesture later on.

thinking that he now looks like an idiot, gepard tries to save himself by shouting back, "i mean⎯ yes! i do. these books are nice," he tried to cover up.

you seemed not to register his mistake, as you tell him, "whatever you want, it's on the house. for your work today. it'll be on the house for life!" you put some books on some shelves and move closer to the middle.

gepard shook his head and chuckled, "you've always given books to me for free." he put some books back and continued around the room.

"are you complaining?" you raised an eyebrow, "what if i just kept a tab on you this entire time? and you never knew?" more books get put away.

"then i'd rightfully pay you back," gepard wholeheartedly responded, "or i'd arrest you," he joked.

you mock-gasped, "for what?" you're getting closer to the middle now.

stealing my heart, the intrusive part of gepard's mind thought. he'd been hanging out with serval too much; he would never say that. gepard internally cringed.

"false advertising," he moved closer to the middle, “i don't know," he smiled to himself. gepard doesn't think he would have the heart to arrest you.

you blushed at hearing the captain lost on amendments. the captain wouldn't know how to arrest you. is this flirting? or are you reading too much into it?

you don't know if the heat on the back of your neck is from gepard's words or the sun shining so brightly on the back of your neck. you stack some more books on shelves; you've now reached the middle. you're having trouble reaching one of the shelves, but you're too lost in your thoughts to even think about that.

in fact, you're too lost in your thoughts that you don't even notice the warmth disappear from the back of your neck. your cheeks are still warm, so you are still blushing. your struggles with the tall bookshelf are lost when you feel a hand over yours.

"i'll take that," gepard quietly mumbles. it's so quiet that you didn't hear it at first.

on instinct, you turn towards him. when you looked at the position the both of you were in, you noticed that you were caged against him. you were caged against the captain of the silvermane guards. against a bookshelf.

gepard towered over you. his body was centimeters closer to fully pressing on you. his breath was fanning on your face. you could see every detail of his face from your view from below. your hands were so close to grazing his chest, so you immediately slapped them to your sides. you gulp, you start to breath quicker, and you feel like you're about to combust.

you swallowed, trying not to move. you were frozen in place as you tried not to disturb gepard. you gaped at him as he was working to organize the books, not noticing the position the two of you were in.

when gepard finished, he gave a sigh of relief. he underestimated your job: if you had to do this every day, you were probably stronger than some of his soldiers. when he opened his eyes, he was greeted by your wide eyes staring right into his.

he was breath-taken by your beauty. the look in your eyes as you look into his was captivating. gepard needed it framed. the way your lips parted made him go feral; his heart stuttered with every second he looked at you.

his arm was pinned above your head. your bodies were so close that you kept focusing on the rise and fall of gepard’s chest. the way his expression scanned yours made you want to quiver against him.

you said the first sentence, “hard work?” your tone was breathless. you were still trying to catch your breath.

“yeah,” he sighed, still not noticing the way your bodies curved into each other, “hard work.”

“did i waste your time?” you whispered. it was quiet, like you were ashamed of your actions. you looked down at his chest rather than his face.

“no,” gepard leaned in, trying to hear your voice one more time. he tilted your head up slightly with his fingers so you could look at him, “you’d never.”

silence crippled the room. it was just you and gepard, the two of you leaning oh-so-close together that your lips were nearly about to touch. a part of you wanted to lean into him; you wanted to pull him closer and closer until you were both out of breath.

but that was delusional. that was something straight out of romance novels, and your life was anything but.

gepard leaned in closer on purpose. he gave into temptation and wanted to feel your lips on his. he wanted to grab you by the waist and pull you so tightly into him. he wanted this: he wanted your kiss, he wanted your insight, he wanted you.

but with gepard, want is not something one could have. especially one like him.

“i’m sorry,” he abruptly let go, “i’m⎯i think, i have something i need to do,” he took a few steps back away from you, leaving about three feet in distance. quite the opposite from how you two were positioned a few seconds ago.

“oh,” you let go immediately. “i’m sorry! i didn’t know,” you quickly ran to the other side of the room. you wanted to hide from embarrassment.

“not your fault!” gepard shouted as he headed for the exit, “goodbye mx yn!”

you didn’t bother to say goodbye as you slammed the door shut after he left. what just happened was mortifying. the position you two were in? the way you two gradually leaned closer to each other? no wonder he ran away, you thought, you must’ve scared him off.

oh, if only you knew how wrong you were.

you didn't see gepard for a week after the incident. he hadn't come into the bookstore at all the entire week. however, that also could've been your fault: you've been in and out of the bookstore for the past week. if you faced gepard after the incident (you've dubbed), you'd probably apologize and beg for forgiveness.

but still, wouldn't he come in and leave a note? wouldn't he at least stop by once? did you scare him off that badly? the more you thought about it, the more you thought about becoming a hermit.

you'd thought you terrified him and ruined your friendship (and any future hope of a relationship) until flowers appeared on the counter of the bookstore. your assistant refused to let you know who they were from.

you bent down and eyed the pot of flowers sitting on the counter. they were your favorite color: pink. you had to admit, they were gorgeous. they looked well grown, as if these were from a master gardener. the flowers bloomed perfectly, each petal reaching out for the sun.

the message of the flowers also intrigued you. begonias are the flowers that symbolizes knowledge and deep thoughts. whoever gifted these to you must have been very observant or they wanted to be your intern.

"did someone come by asking to be my intern?" you stood up and put your hands on your hips. your lip twisted in thought. you were a bit preoccupied at the moment; the bookstore was getting exceptionally busy and (with your whole gepard crisis going on) you didn't think you were fit to be a mentor at the moment.

"no," your assistant shook her head. you leaned back on the counter, wondering why (and who) would gift you flowers on such a strange day. you already knew it wasn't gepard, due to the awkward tension surrounding the both of you right now, so you had a big list to narrow down.

"but," your assistant continued, "someone dropped off this letter with the flowers. they told me to give it to you after you saw the flowers," your assistant handed you the letter.

it was very formal, the letter. it's envelope was very extravagant, fit for someone with high standards. the stamp was still warm, meaning that this letter had been written recently. you tore open the envelope to reveal it's contents.

yn,

please do me the honor of accompanying me to everwinter cafe tonight. i would really appreciate seeing you there.

gl

"g.l." you paused, "as in green lantern?!" you asked your assistant, wide eyes and all. "who is trying to cosplay as a superhero to talk to me? this is insane. did i owe someone a book or something? charged them extra?" you panicked.

your assistant frowned at your idiocy. who else could 'gl' entail to besides gepard landau? "what if it's the captain," your assistant urged on, nudging your shoulder.

"it couldn't be the captain," you jolted. does your assistant know? "we barely even talk," you try to reason.

"he comes in here nearly every day," your assistant counters, "if not every day, be it every other day," they sighed.

"he just comes in to look at books," you placed the flowers in a safe space in the shelves. "we don't converse as often as you think."

"you talk every day," you assistant drags on. "you're telling me that the two of you have no relations whatsoever?"

"we⎯it's complicated," you sighed, "long story short, it could never be the captain," you looked down at the plant. even if it was gepard, what was he doing? sending anonymous flowers? cryptic notes? why couldn't he just talk to you?

"you should go," your assistant encouraged, "you never know. it could be the captain or it could be another potential secret admirer."

"you think?" you raised an eyebrow. your assistant nodded in response.

you looked at the flowers one more time. though you wished it was gepard who sent them, you knew it was probably someone else trying to flatter you into taking them in as an intern. but as you stared at the begonias, no other thoughts beside gepard consumed your mind

it was late when you walked to everwinter cafe. tonight was not a particularly chilly night, but belobog's slight chill was ever present.

you walked around aimlessly, trying to walk slowly so you can prolong the sight of your "intern." you tried to focus on other things as you walked past, such as the plants and heaters surrounding the city. it's wondrous how things such as plants are still able to flourish in times like these.

as you viewed your surroundings, you saw a note placed on a lamppost close to the cafe. it read, "'i know you're working. i wanted to be somewhere...' safe? familiar? comfortable? 'near you.'

you automatically knew which book that quote was from. book lovers by emily henry. it was your favorite romance book; you've raved about it many times with gepard.

as you continued, you saw another note, "'if you saw yourself the way other people see you, you'd never doubt again.' 'how do people see me?' 'like you're the most beautiful, most remarkable, thing they've ever seen."

you must admit, you blushed a little bit while internally reading that. the only reason you blushed was that because you discussed that quote with gepard. you were talking about the 'twisted' series and how it had it's pros and cons with gepard, and this quote was one of the pros.

another read, "'who are they? the best part of my day.'"

another, "books she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives."

and the last, "'favorite word?' 'you.'"

you quickly noticed that these were all quotes from your favorite books. these are books you've only discussed and rambled about with one person: gepard. you'd never thought he would've actually read these books. let alone, you'd never thought gepard would also quote them.

with slightly more hope than before, you ran up to everwinter cafe.

"did you get my message?" gepard stood tall in front of you. you couldn't look into his eyes and it was killing him.

"your letter? yes, i did. and your flowers too. they were beautiful," you rocked back and forth on your heels.

"thank you, i grew them myself," he gave you a soft smile. you wanted to talk about how he managed to even grow such beautiful flowers, but how could you talk to him if you couldn't even look at him in the eyes? "but, did you get my message?"

you looked down at the many notes in your hand. it turns out gepard had left notes after all, "oh yes. i did," you blushed at the obvious context of the quotes. "all my favorite books."

"yeah," gepard spoke breathlessly, as if all of his air had run out after he started speaking to you, "but did you get my message?" he looked at your face for any type of indication: whether you liked him back, hated him, or had no strong feelings towards him. his eyes darted throughout your face, and the sight made you slightly flustered. he was leaning over you, and you thought you saw his eyes graze over your lips.

then it donned on you. the flowers. the letter. the sneaking out at night. the romantic context of all the quotes. the way all the quotes were from your favorite books that you've only talked about with him. the way gepard has admired and remembered every single thing about you. your stomach dropped as you realized gepard had been feeling the same things you have felt for him this entire time. your heart pounded in your chest as you finally met his eyes in the pale moonlight.

"yes," you swiftly exhaled. it was like all your hidden feelings for gepard were compacted in your chest, and when you finally breathed, they were all let out. it was like all your troubles were leaving you, "i did."

"and..." gepard trailed off, now failing to meet you in the eyes. he was terrified of your rejection; your opinion was one of the things that mattered most to him. before, he regarded it was his passion for the people, but now he recognizes that he was just passionate for you. "did you like it?"

"i loved it," you smiled; it wasn't just a soft smile this time, like the ones you've always given him. it was a big smile: loud and talkative, much like you. one smile could convey so much.

but you still had thoughts, "i didn't need all of this though," you grabbed his hand for reassurance. you were in range of his lips. you could close the gap right now.

gepard froze; your words and your touch made him tense. he was finally able to look you in the eye, having prepared himself for iminent rejection and was ready to leave. whatever you needed, he would do.

"what do you need?" gepard asked frantically. "whatever you need, i will give it to you. whether it be space or never seeing me again."

what you needed? you needed his thoughts, his opinions, his reassurance. you needed his touch on a cold night, you needed his arm around you when you were cold, you needed to feel him beside you on nights similar to this. you needed everything that he was.

"i need you," you whispered up on his lips. "right now."

and gepard swore the entirety of everwinter city heard his heart drop to the ground. he was sure that you could feel his heart pounding in his chest after you said those five words. only five words, yet gepard felt like he was going insane. he was going insane for you: your touch, your mind, your words, your entirety.

gepard removed his hand from yours for just one second, using it to tip your chin up so you could be in his view. in the pale moonlight, you were gorgeous. to be fair, you were always gorgeous, but something about tonight extenuated your beauty.

"can i⎯"

"don't even ask," you cut him off, leaning into him.

the kiss was soft and sweet at first. the feeling of your lips pressed onto his was heavenly: gepard felt ten times stronger with you than with anything else. it was gentle and tender.

but when you tugged your arms around his neck, all restraint went out the window.

gepard moved his hand from your chin to your waist, pulling you closer into him. it was bold for his first kiss, but who could blame him when you're holding onto to him so tightly?

you threaded your hands through his hair as he kissed you feverishly. his hands on your waist made you want to combust into him. you were standing on your toes at this point; if you tried to stand any taller, gepard was about to lift you up into the air.

when you finally stopped to breath, all that was left in the air was your love and the light from the sky.

"was i your first kiss?" you asked him coyly, arms still wrapped around his neck.

gepard blushed and you immediately knew his answer to your question. you stood up one more time to give him one more quick kiss.

yes, you were his first kiss. and gepard wished for more to come.