Pairing: Azul X GN!Reader Genre: Fluff A/N: The Reader In This Is Not Yuu. I Went Way Too Ham At 2 A.M.
Pairing: Azul x GN!Reader Genre: Fluff A/N: The reader in this is not Yuu. I went way too ham at 2 A.M. and ended up writing 11.6k words, so enjoy my descend into fluffy madness lmao.
Everyday life as a librarian is as mundane as you can get within the walls of Night Raven College. With the exceptions of the occasional ruckus caused by groups of college students — mainly Floyd — or Crowley coming to offer yet another deal that you can’t seem to refuse, the library serves as a quiet haven for those who can’t find it elsewhere; you included.
At first you weren’t sure what you wanted to do here, or what you could do here. You’d spent the last couple of months just cramming as much History of Magic knowledge as you could into your brain, simply trying to make sense of the new world that you were in, without giving much thought to how you could fit in if you weren’t going home anytime soon. So, it comes to no surprise that once that was done and over with, you found yourself with way too much free time on your hands.
It’s when you’re in the midst of a particularly rowdy lunch, that your friend Epel mentions a new job opening at the library on-campus. He’d insisted that you apply, explaining that the library was in desperate need of someone that has competent knowledge of literature and you were perfect for the job.
You were hesitant at first, mostly because you were shy and quiet — especially in public settings — and that’s why you gave up trying to befriend more people here. But Epel reasoned it wouldn’t be too bad, or busy, at all because he would be helping you out. Plus, Vil told him that the practice would help him get used to speaking “properly”. So, you applied for the position.
Now you’ve found yourself working at the library for a little over half a year already, and Epel was right: working at the library wasn’t all that difficult. While he offers to deal with inquiring students all day — just to save you the anxiety of having to do so yourself — you’re left to acquire, classify, and catalog materials away from their prying eyes.
Today’s arrangement is no different.
You’ve just finished cataloging this week’s new batch of books, and after carefully stacking them onto your handy-dandy book cart, you head over to the elevator to the second floor. The doors slide apart with a quiet ding! to announce your arrival before you push the book cart to the first set of bookshelves labeled “Fiction: 001 - 200.09”, all the while nodding your head and mumbling polite greetings to the people you pass by.
Your hands busy themselves by putting the books into their respective spots, first alphabetically then by call numbers. You’re halfway through your stacks when someone gently taps on your shoulder, causing you to jump in surprise before you turn around to see Epel standing there.
“Uh… yes?” you ask, clearing your throat as you straighten up and fiddle with the hem of your sweater.
“Could you work the front today? I’m exhausted,” Epel runs a hand through his hair as he sighs in exasperation.
You squint your eyes at him and try to figure out if he’s simply trying to trick you into socializing, but the way his eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is clenched tells you otherwise. Rather reluctantly, you nod in agreement to his request, “I guess so. Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I just didn’t expect working at a library to be the same experience as working retail. Like, excuse me, we sent you the notification that your books were overdue. Don’t yell at me because you didn’t pay attention and now you have to pay the fees, sir,” Epel slams his hand down the top of a book as he emphasizes the last word, the loud sound making you jump.
Epel begins to shove books into the empty slots of the bookshelf, not truly caring if they belong there or not. You can’t help but wince as you watch him do so, the feeling you’re experiencing is like watching someone try to drink soup broth with a fork: it’s just not right.
“Okay, Epel, I’m heading to the front then.”
At this point, the man doesn’t even hear you anymore; too busy in his own thoughts cursing at the disrespect he’s been shown and taking out his frustrations on the bundle of papers in his hands. You turn on your heels before you can change your mind and tell Epel to get the heck away from your precious books and make your way back down to the checkout counter on the first floor.
It’s quiet for a Friday afternoon. Usually you’d expect a small crowd of students to trudge in, their backpacks heavy with textbooks and eye bags as dark as a cloudy sky. Sometimes you miss the days when you used to be like that too; even though it was difficult you made a lot of fond memories that made it all bearable.
You situate yourself on the worn-out leather office chair Epel usually occupies, the backrest creaking a bit too loudly for your liking when you lean against it.
Maybe you can strike up a deal with Crowley to get a new one later. No, scratch that idea — you never know what that man wants in return.
The computer in front of you is just starting to boot up when the entrance of the library swings open, causing your gaze to shift out of curiosity.
Your eyes land on the figure of an attractive young man dressed in the classic NRC school uniform, the purple ribbon secured to his left arm showcasing that he’s a part of the Octavinelle dorm. You can’t shake the feeling that you know this man from somewhere, but you also can’t quite put your finger on where.
Feeling eyes on him, the man turns his head towards you and gives you a polite smile when you make eye contact. You can feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment from being caught staring, and you avert your eyes almost immediately — opting to stare at the brightly lit computer screen instead.
“Excuse me,” the man calls out, and you think to yourself that his soft-spoken voice matches his angelic appearance very well.
“Yes?” you answer after a few moments of silence, reluctantly glancing up.
As the man approaches the checkout counter, you can’t help but to stare at him with slightly widened eyes and a thin-lipped smile. It must look like you’re in pain to him — in this case, your pain is just downright embarrassment — but you were always one to have your emotions and thoughts written all over your face, so you couldn’t hide it even if you’d wanted to.
“Is Epel out today?” the man asks as he rests his hands on the counter and his eyes scan the space behind you.
“‘Epel’?” you echo your friend’s name, your expression quickly changing into one of confusion. “No, he's here… why?”
“Oh, no reason. He’s just usually the one to be sitting here so I was just wondering,” the man chuckles while shaking his head, a finger pressed to the bridge of his glasses to keep them from moving.
“Okay…” your voice trails off as you weren’t sure what to say next.
Is it usual for Epel to make small talk with everyone? You have to commend him for being able to do that every day with who knows how many people when you can barely think of what to say to this one person. He must have sensed how uncomfortable you feel, because the man takes a step backwards towards the staircase with his thumb pointing over his shoulder.
“I'm guessing he’s upstairs, so I’ll go there,” he announces before giving you another smile, this one more unsettling than the last. “I’ll see you later. Have a great evening.”
You wave goodbye to the man and give him a small, less awkward smile back, watching as he turns and speed walks up the stairs as if someone is chasing him. The smile doesn’t leave your face even after he’s disappeared from your view.
“Of course he would see me later. He has to pass by the checkout counter to leave the library anyways,” you think as you focus your attention back to the computer screen.
On display is a website with the daily list of upcoming school events a.k.a. your number one resource of finding which areas of the school you should avoid like the plague. Your eyes spot a familiar name: Mostro Lounge, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.
“Is there ever a time this place isn’t up to no good?” you wonder aloud to yourself as you click on the direct link provided to learn more about the newest event.
If you’re being completely honest, there’s no real reason you feel so negatively towards the Octavinelle restaurant. You’d merely heard rumors from Ace and Deuce when they practically bet their livelihoods to the housewarden for good exam scores, and you decided to avoid the place on the off chance that you get suckered into another bad deal.
You stare at the screen for a few seconds once the browser finally refreshes before rubbing your eyes with your knuckles.
“No way,” you lean closer to the screen while eyeing it in disbelief.
According to the webpage, the Mostro Lounge is holding a promotion for the next week and a percentage of the profits will be donated to the library. You scroll further down to see if there was any other information provided, stopping when a particular headshot catches your eye.
“No way!” you repeat louder this time, your mouth hanging open from the shock that hits you.
“‘No way’ what? Are you okay?” a familiar voice asks, causing your head to snap up.
You can only shake your head wordlessly as Epel approaches the checkout counter, empty book cart in hand. He pauses, an eyebrow raised as he questions you impatiently, “well, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
“T— this… Epel, you—” you manage to stammer out incoherent words as you look back and forth between the screen and your friend, a finger pointed accusingly at him. “Have you made a deal with the Octavinelle housewarden?”
“Who, Azul?” Epel’s face is full of confusion when you mention the man’s name. “Why do you ask?”
You shoot up from your seat and turn the computer screen around, and Epel leans forward to look at whatever it is you keep aggressively tapping at. It’s only then that it crosses his mind that he hadn’t told you about the deal Crowley and Azul had made.
“Oh, right. So, uh… about that,” Epel starts off slowly, a hand rubbing the back of his neck while he tries to keep the guilt from showing on his face. Just like you, Epel has a hard time masking the emotion on his face. “Azul has apparently been complaining that there’s a lack of useful books here during one of the Housewarden Meetings; so the Headmage agreed to allow him to choose our next couple batches as long as he pitches in.”
“What in the Sevens is a ‘useful book’ in his standards?” your eyebrows furrow in frustration, side-eyeing the endless shelves of books you spend every day organizing.
“Books that will help him fulfill his end of his contracts, of course. Probably for potions like the one that he makes for Vil’s skincare,” Epel speaks matter-of-factly before he turns back to the book cart, humming a show tune while strolling away to the storage room behind you.
Leave it to Epel to be so nonchalant about anything and everything.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath to calm your heart that you didn’t realize was racing from adrenaline, your body slowly sinking back down onto the office chair with a short creak.
Meanwhile Azul is on the second floor, leaning against the wooden railing as he observes you curiously. Of course Azul is aware of the reputation he’s built around himself: a man capable of granting any wish, though the price is steep. One should be wary when agreeing to enter a contract with him. With such a reputation, he would have expected you to know who he was as soon as he walked in, but apparently you never knew what he looked like in the first place.
Secretly, he likes that fact: there’s someone who exists who doesn’t merely seek him out for their own needs. Not that you were seeking him out in the first place, which also stings.
Azul, please make up your mind.
Azul smiles to himself as he pushes his body away from the railing, turning to eye the multiple bookshelves around him as an idea comes to mind. Since it didn’t seem that you like to converse with strangers, he’ll have to find another way to befriend you.
And so, half an hour later, he finds himself standing at the checkout counter, a satisfied smile on his face as he glances down at the stack of books in his arms.
“Are you ready to check out?” you ask, a polite tone to your voice, as you look up from the computer.
Your smile falters for just a second when you see Azul standing in front of you, the sight of the Octavinelle symbol filling you with a sense of dread.
Be nice, y/n, it’s not like it’s his fault you’re going to be working overtime for the next foreseeable future.
You clear your throat before shifting the chair around, your hands stretched out to take the books from Azul. He merely shakes his head and carefully sets the pile down on the counter before leaning side to side to make sure none of the books have shifted.
“Have a good day, y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he lightly taps the top of the book pile with his fingertips, drawing your attention away from him and to the books before he steps out of the library.
You furrow your eyebrows, your lips curved into a frown as you ponder whether or not you’ve told him your name yet. You decide that you must have, it’s just that your memory’s getting worse as you get older. A sigh escapes your lips at the thought, your still outstretched hands pulling the books Azul left behind towards you so you could put them back where they belong.
“He’s definitely not checking these back in; he wasn’t even carrying any books when he came in earlier. But then why would he bring them here if he wasn’t planning on borrowing them?” you think and eye the books curiously, your chin sandwiched between your fingers.
Hello, Sunshine by [redacted] It’s a Beautiful Day by [redacted] Introduction by [redacted] Humans by [redacted] Peach by [redacted] How to Make Friends for Dummies by [redacted]
You furrow your eyebrows while thinking to yourself that Azul has — well, not strange — but definitely an interestingly wide taste in book genres. But the thought quickly goes away when you give the books a second glance, now wondering if the stranger was trying to give you a secret message through… book spines?
“Hey, Epel!” you call out, not moving your gaze away from the books as if they might disappear if you look away.
“What?!” Epel’s muffled voice answers from the storage room.
“Could you come here for a sec?”
You hear the click of a door opening behind you followed by the shuffling of feet as Epel makes his way over to you. You gather the books into your arms before turning in the chair to face Epel.
“Look, look. What’s this?” you nudge the pile towards Epel.
“Uh… books?” Epel crosses his arms before looking down at the items in your arms with an unimpressed look. “Is this some kind of trick question?”
You roll your eyes at his sassy tone and nudge the books even closer, “no, Epel. Someone left these here. Look at the titles.”
“Huh,” Epel huffs, eyes carefully scanning the titles as he's told to. “What about them?”
“I’m not sure. Is this supposed to be a message or what?” you can’t help the impatient tone that creeps into your voice as you drop the books onto your lap.
Epel gently bites his thumb as he ponders it for a bit. Some of the students here did have some unconventional ways of communicating sometimes. That was apparent from the way Rook asked Epel for help with an Alchemy project last month: by sliding a heart-shaped sticky note under his dorm room door at 4 A.M..
“Yeah, it could be,” Epel finally answers you with a shrug. “Why don’t you try giving them a response? The worst-case scenario is you got it wrong.”
And with that suggestion, Epel leaves you alone again; but not before giving you a, what you assume is supposed to be reassuring, pat on the shoulder.
“Maybe I should,” you think as you glance down at the stacks of books once more, a shy smile creeping onto your face.
❥
The next morning, you enter the library with a feeling of anticipation that you haven’t felt in a long time. You spent a good chunk of last night thinking of how to properly respond to Azul’s message: should you use book spines like he did? Or perhaps try a blackout poem?
You decided on the latter but didn’t have the heart to color inside a book or rip out a page. As a compromise, you wrote out a page of Azul’s first book on a separate piece of paper instead. And that paper is currently tucked into the back pocket of your pants, awaiting the right moment for you to pass it along to its intended receiver.
“Good morning, Epel,” you sing-song, almost skipping around the counter to give the man a hug.
“Morn— ah!” Epel yelps when he suddenly finds himself engulfed in your arms and he raises a hand hesitantly to pat your back, “nice to see you too? Someone’s happy this morning.”
“I am, I’m sorry,” you giggle, unwrapping your arms around the man before taking a step back, “can you do me a favor?”
“Depends on what,” Epel hums, his eyes narrowing because he should have known you weren’t being so nice for no reason. He watches as you shove your hands into your back pocket and pull out a piece of light pink paper folded into an origami peach fruit. His eyes cross when you hold it up a bit too close to his face. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Could you please give this to the stranger from last night?” you ask quietly while giving your friend your best puppy dog eyes.
He blinks, his gaze shifting between your face and the paper peach in front of him. He purses his lips before reluctantly nodding and snatching the paper out of your hands, “Okay… but I don’t even know who I’m looking for, so why can’t you do it yourself?”
“You know why,” your lips jut out into a pout while Epel shakes his head into his hands. “I can’t be there to look him in the eyes if I was actually wrong!”
“You’re actually hopeless, y/n. Maybe you should be meeting with Vil to work on your confidence.”
“I’ll hard pass on that one.”
“So, what’s he look like?”
“Fair-skinned. Beauty mark on the left side of his chin. Short, wavy grey hair. Oh, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s in Octavinelle.”
Epel peeks up at you from between his fingers, glad that his hands are hiding the shocked look on his face. Surely there’s no way that you’re actually describing Azul Ashengrotto without realizing it.
Speaking of the devil, the entrance to the library swings open and the aforementioned man comes striding in with a certain loud eel following closely behind.
Your body automatically straightens as you shoot daggers at the tall man, “Floyd, please try not to cause a disturbance today — and please leave Riddle alone.”
“Oh? I’m afraid you have the wrong brother,” the man chuckles, fist coming up to his lips as he shoots you a polite smile. “See the way this part of my hair curves to look like a ‘J’? That’s the easiest way to make out that I’m Jade.”
“Oh, Sevens. I’m so sorry,” your face begins to heat up in embarrassment once you take a closer look at the man. “I see you two so often, I can’t believe I’m still making that mistake.”
“No worries at all, it’s a common mistake. Housewarden Riddle will be safe to study in peace today.”
“Wonderful, then our heads are safe for today,” you place your hand on your chest and breathe a sigh of relief.
You then glance at the familiar man standing next to Jade with his hands nervously clenched together in front of him. You flash him a warm smile and a quick “good morning” before excusing yourself to the storage room.
No one within a five-feet radius could miss the way you waved aggressively at Epel as you walked away.
“Right,” Epel drawls once he hears the sound of a door click. He holds out the peach origami unceremoniously, his face screaming boredom when no one moves. “I believe this is for you.”
“My, my, you have great craftsmanship, Epel,” Jade smiles again, leaning in to study the pink paper in the other’s hand.
“I didn’t make it, y/n did. And it’s not for you,” Epel rolls his eyes, shifting his hands towards Azul’s direction.
Azul’s expression is a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. First, surprise from you understanding the message he had conveyed from the books last night. He admittedly had never done something like that before, and didn’t have enough time to go scavenger hunting for the right books.
Second, embarrassment from having been discovered in front of one of the twins. There’s no way this isn’t going to reach Floyd’s ears and he’ll have to mentally prepare himself for a royal tease storm later.
Azul clears his throat and ignores the way Jade’s eyes follow him curiously when he takes a few steps forward to grab the paper from Epel, “thank you for this.”
“I must have missed a couple chapters here,” Jade comments in amusement. “Would you care to share?”
“Absolutely not, Jade.”
❥
It’s not until Azul is in the safety from prying eyes of the V.I.P. room that Azul finally decides to read what you’ve given him.
He picks up the paper peach delicately like it is his mother’s fine china, turning it over and over between his fingers to study your origami work.
It’s a shame I have to ruin this, Azul thinks to himself as he gingerly unfolds your note. He stares at the long thick lines of black drawn on the page, mentally reading the words that were purposely made legible.
[illegible] It’s nice to meet you, [illegible] You have [illegible] a beautiful smile [illegible] I like [illegible] your [illegible] books.
A few more lines of black.
I’m sorry [illegible] It’s a bit awkward, but [illegible] See you soon.
Azul rests his cheek on the palm of his hand, an amused smile appearing on his face as he re-reads your note.
“They’re certainly creative,” he mutters to himself as he follows the creases of the paper to re-fold your origami peach, ideas already popping into his mind as a feeling of anticipation similar to yours bubbles up inside of him.
Thus, begins your unique form of communication with the housewarden.
On the night the promotion is to begin at Mostro Lounge, Azul drops yet another pile of books for you at the checkout counter. His lips are curved up to a rare timid smile as Epel stares at him from his seat, “I assume these aren’t for yourself.”
“Um… no,” Azul rubs the back of his neck, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.
“I’ll make sure y/n gets this,” Epel can’t help but laugh at the expression on Azul’s face as he slides the books closer to himself. “Why do you look like that? I’m not judging you.”
“I know you aren’t!” Azul quickly retorts, his voice rising slightly in defense. “It’s just… I feel a little weird. We’ve never spoken more than a handful of words to each other, but now I'm getting excited to talk to them like this…”
Epel waves his hand in the air dismissively, “trust me: even I’m surprised at how things are unfolding between the two of you.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t told them who I am yet.”
“I’m not doing it for you. I’m just glad y/n’s finally opening up and making new friends,” Epel says plainly before sticking his tongue out at the older man. “No matter how suspicious the new friend could be.”
Before Azul could question him further, Jade appears by his side, whispering into his ear that they will need to return to the lounge soon. Azul reluctantly excuses himself and follows his vice-housewarden back to the Hall of Mirror.
It’s the busiest that you’ve ever seen the library, watching from the safety of the opened door to the storage room as an endless circulation of people come in and out the door. In the crowd, you catch a momentary glimpse of Azul’s warm smile just before he left. The mere sight of it causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach and you tiptoe over to the counter where Epel is situated hoping to catch another glimpse of it.
You immediately hear a soft shuffling sound coming from beneath you and it causes you to look down. There lies yet another stack of books, and you give Epel a questioning glance though his eyes remain glued to the scene in front of him. Did he expect you to put these back? Right now?
When you bend down to grab the books, you almost want to facepalm yourself for being such an idiot. Because there laid yet another message from Azul; this one shorter than the last.
The Sun Says Hello by [redacted] Thank You by [redacted] You Are Beautiful by [redacted] Look Below by [redacted]
Look below? you think before following the instructions and literally looking down, but only seeing your feet. Of course, that’s not it. What about…?
You lift the pile of books off the table, a grin appearing on your face when you see a folded piece of paper where the books once were. You glance over to where you last saw Azul and can’t help but wonder if this is how the characters in romance novels felt; the nervousness of passing each other a new secret message, the anxiety of wondering if they’ve said the right thing, the excitement of awaiting a response, and the exhilaration of the whole process.
You gently pat your warming cheeks with your hands and snap yourself out of your brief thoughts. With a shake of your head, you take the note and make your way back to the storage room before closing the door behind you.
“You need to get out more,” you say aloud to yourself, referring to your ridiculous thoughts of comparing your humdrum life to a romance novel.
You click your tongue in disapproval, your hands busy unfolding Azul’s note to read the contents written inside.
Y/n, I’m sorry if this was too corny. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by approaching you directly. Thank you for your response, I really wasn’t expecting it. You guys have so many books here that it’d take a long time for me to find the ones I need to send another book spine message. I mean, not that that’s a bad thing! I hope you don’t mind a good old fashion letter though. Why don’t we share quotes from our favorite books instead? That way I don't have to trouble you and make you put back the books I took. I’m curious to know what kinds of literature you like to read. I’ll go first. “He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.” Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy - Azul Ashengrotto
You feel like your eyes are going to pop out of their sockets from how suddenly they grew wide, “Wha— you mean, like, the Octavinelle Housewarden Azul?!”
❥
A few weeks pass by with more than a handful of letters being exchanged between you and Azul; though, truthfully, you were tempted to stop your correspondence once you were aware of Azul’s identity.
“Eh, why? Did he say something wrong?” Epel had inquired when you came to him for advice once again.
“Well, no, but he did put Ace and Deuce into a predicament, so…”
“They kind of had that coming for opting to cheat instead of just studying like we did.”
“You sound just like Jack.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. What else?”
“Uh, because of the dang promotion he’s doing, we’re going to be a lot busier than usual.”
“Y/n. We work in a library — located on-campus, might I add. And it’s almost finals season,” Epel looks about ready to throw a book at you so maybe that’ll knock some sense into you.
“Okay… but what if this is just a ploy to get me to sign my livelihood away in some contract?”
“Azul’s a straightforward business man. He definitely wouldn’t be wasting his time like this just for a contract.”
You paused and thought through Epel’s words for a moment. It did make sense: why would Azul be spending his precious free time to entertain you in this way if he could’ve simply approached you with a salesman’s pitch?
You felt guilty for immediately assuming that his intentions were bad. Afterall, your only experience with the man outside of this long exchange was from word of mouth. Not to mention that his restaurant promotion was beneficial to both the library and the students.
“Okay, you may have a good point. Several good points, in fact,” you sigh in defeat.
In the beginning, both you and Azul had to badger Epel to pass along secret letters to the other person; and the requests were almost always followed with a look of utter displeasure.
There was more than one occasion where Epel was tempted to just lock the two of you inside the storage room until you would eventually talk.
Luckily for all three of you, he never had to resort to that.
There eventually came a point when you felt comfortable enough to approach Azul first, and he would always welcome you with a heart-stopping smile; one that would leave your cheeks feeling warm and catch your words in your throat. If the man knew the effect that he had on you, he was certainly gracious enough not to show it.
In his free time, Azul likes to stroll around the library with you. While it’s usually in a comfortable silence, he’ll sometimes ask you to elaborate on things from your last correspondences.
Other times, he’ll ask you to proofread his contracts or ask for your ideas on how he can improve sales at Monstro Lounge — things he usually either did himself or asked for Jade’s assistance. You always tell him that you’re not qualified enough to give him such advice, but he always insists anyway.
Just like that, you learn more about each other and your tastes in literature than you would have with anyone else.
Today Azul arrives at the library just as you’re finishing up your afternoon tasks. You rush over to the checkout counter as soon as you see him come in, the warm, welcoming smile on your face immediately lifting his spirits.
“Hi, Azul! Welcome back,” you call out to the man, waving at him with your free hand while the other is clutching a clipboard full of inventory paperwork.
“Hi, y/n,” Azul’s lips quirk up into his signature sweet smile that doesn’t betray the quick beating of his heart. “How was your day?”
“Tiring… but I kind of like seeing the new faces around here so I don’t mind that trade-off,” you answer, referring to the influx of students scrambling to prepare for finals at every available corner of the building.
“I’m glad that you’re starting to warm up to strangers,” Azul chuckles, his hand reaching out to gently ruffle your hair. You stare up at Azul with widened eyes, and he stares back with his hand slightly trembling; clearly you both are surprised by the affectionate gesture.
Azul suddenly clears his throat, breaking you both out of your momentary trance as he pulls his hand away. Even if he didn’t plan on showing his affection as such, he couldn’t deny that he’s started to develop romantic feelings for you.
That's why he came today, so he could finally ask you something that he’d been delaying for the past week or so.
“So, anyways,” Azul starts, and you can hear the subtle tone of nervousness in his voice.
You watch with furrowed eyebrows as Azul slips a strap of his backpack off his shoulders and unzips the largest pocket. After a few seconds of digging around, Azul finally flourishes a handful of books that he holds out towards you with the spines purposefully facing away.
“What’re these for?” you ask curiously, though you don’t wait for an answer before taking the books from Azul and clutching them to your chest. “Are we going back to book spine messages now?”
“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind,” Azul nods in confirmation before shrugging his backpack strap back on. He presses his lips into a thin line, eyes fixed to the floor beside you and cheeks a rosy tint as he asks, “um… I— I’ll get a reply before I leave today… right?”
“Of course, that’s been our routine for a while now,” you giggle as you find it quite adorable how shy Azul suddenly got, even if you don’t know the reason why yet.
“I’ll be waiting then,” Azul flashes an uncharacteristic half-smile before heading up to his usual writing spot on the second floor.
Although Azul seems to be acting strange today, you think that maybe he’s had a difficult time convincing Floyd to study today and has a headache. You roll your eyes at the thought while shaking your head and mumbling, “I’ll squeeze that eel twice as hard the next time I see him.”
With a loud sigh, you make your way around the checkout counter and plop down onto Epel’s vacant office chair with a familiar loud creak. You wince, bowing your head apologetically at the few people who turned towards the source of the sudden noise that disturbed their peace.
Once their attention is averted back to whatever they were doing before they were so rudely interrupted, you turn your attention back to the books Azul handed you earlier. The last time he gave you something like this was when he asked to start exchanging letters instead; so, you’re curious as to why he suddenly decided to change his method again.
You place the books on the counter in front of you, your clipboard and paperwork long forgotten underneath the stack.
Friday Nights by [redacted] Dinner Recipes by [redacted] Together by [redacted] If You’d Like To by [redacted]
You stare at the books with a dumbfounded expression, not wanting to jump into conclusions about its meaning; but what else could it mean besides Azul Ashengrotto asking you out to dinner this Friday night?
It suddenly makes sense why he was acting kind of shy earlier.
The thought makes you feel warm inside, and you have to hide the wide smile appearing on your face behind your hands.
You don’t want to wait until Azul leaves tonight to give him an answer, and you make up your mind almost right away to tell him your answer verbally — mostly because your brain is not comprehending what’s going on well enough to function properly and think of a creative response to his invitation.
You shake your head while patting your cheeks rather roughly, getting up from your seat carefully to not make any more unwanted noise.
Your feet rush you up the stairs to the second floor before you can talk yourself into chickening out, before you can change your mind, before—
The sight of Azul makes you stop in your tracks, your heart hammering wildly against your chest. Was it from seeing the person that you adore, or was it from the sudden rush of adrenaline? You honestly can’t tell anymore.
Azul is hunched over a short pile of papers — the lack of paper balls around him makes you think that he’s at least got a good start to his studying session — his cheek is resting against his fist as the other hand is busy writing away. His eyebrows are furrowed in utter concentration, so much so that he doesn’t even realize that his glasses are slowly sliding down the bridge of his nose.
You quietly make your way to the chair across the table from the man and settle yourself down onto the wooden material with your eyes still fixed on him. You’re not sure if it’s just the harsh lighting of the library or you weren’t paying attention earlier, but you can see faint dark circles under his eyes.
“Aren’t you sleeping enough?” you mumble, though Azul still doesn’t hear you. Your hand reaches out without you meaning to, your fingertips gently brushing aside the locks of hair that were starting to cover Azul’s eyes.
This finally gathers his attention and the man jolts in surprise, his eyes wide as his head shoots up to see you sitting across from him.
You can’t help but giggle at how adorable Azul looks, pulling your hand back to cover your mouth as you do so, “I’m so sorry. I didn't think you could get so focused in, like, five minutes.”
“Oh— I— yeah, sorry,” the man snaps back to his senses before his hands are spread out to cover whatever he’s written — not that he needed to. You wouldn’t have peeked anyways, and you both know that well enough: you’d never look unless he asked you to. “Did you need something?”
“Huh?” you question before cursing yourself mentally, because just a fleeting look at Azul could make your mind go completely blank. You quickly shake your head before Azul could elaborate, “no, no! I just… I'm saying yes. To your, uh… invitation.”
“My invi— oh,” Azul’s mouth forms a small “o” as he realizes what you’re referring to; and just like the first time you gave him a response, he’s caught by surprise.
To be honest, he was mentally preparing himself for rejection. Lack of self-confidence aside, he wasn’t sure if you felt the same way he did; whereas he ended his letters with quite corny quotes from romance novels, you missed his hints and always ended yours with quotes from novels in any other genre.
“Is that… okay?” you ask hesitantly when Azul doesn’t say anything else. You can feel your entire body starting to feel warm from embarrassment, the thought that you must have misinterpreted his words hitting you like a brick.
“Y—yeah, of course!” Azul answers a bit too quickly, and the more time passes by, the wider his smile gets and the redder his ears turn. “I’m the one who asked, why are you asking if it’s okay to say ‘yes’?”
“I thought I misinterpreted,” you confess after releasing the breath you were anxiously holding in.
Azul chuckles and places his hands on yours before giving them a reassuring squeeze, “I’m sorry, I was caught off guard. But thank you for agreeing to go out with me.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” your cheeks begin to burn as the cliché phrase leaves your lips. “but um… where are we going? Are you actually going to cook dinner?”
You don’t doubt that the man probably has skills in a kitchen. He owns a restaurant after all, but you’ve never visited before so you’re not sure who actually does all the cooking. Azul merely runs his thumb and index finger across his lips in a zipping motion.
“It’s a surprise!”
❥
The next few days follow in a blur of excitement and expectancy. You’ve tried to ask Azul multiple times for even just a hint of what your plans would be for Friday night, but he stays true to his word of keeping everything a surprise.
So, come Friday, you decide to dress comfortably with a pair of straight leg jeans and an oversized, lilac-toned sweater. It’s simplistic, but when Azul comes to pick you up at the library that night, it seems that the two of you had unintentionally matched — though his sweater is slightly darker in color.
When you first see each other, you point at one-another as if you were the infamous Spider-man meme. Small bursts of laughter leave both of your lips as you decide to make the first move and reach out for his hand.
Without his gloves on, you can feel how clammy Azul’s hand is from nervousness. You don’t mind it very much though, his hand is still very soft and warm and comforting to you.
“Are you ready?” Azul asks, daring to give your hand the tiniest squeeze.
“Uh, as ready as someone can be when they don’t know where they’re going.”
Azul chuckles as he nods, “okay, fair enough. It’s nowhere bad, I promise. I’m not a serial killer.”
“That sounds exactly like what a serial killer would say in a mystery book, but I’ll trust you.”
“You read way too many crime books,” Azul comments, thinking back to the quotes you’ve written to him in your letters.
“I’d like to say I’ve broadened my horizons just a little bit. Though I never would’ve taken you for such a romantic,” you tease back, smiling sheepishly when the man chokes on his own spit at your words.
“I— uh, I’m most definitely not,” Azul says defensively between coughs, his cheeks reddening though you aren’t sure if it’s because he choked or because he’s actually feeling shy. “It’s just research for my, uh… contract work.”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you say,” you chuckle, rubbing the man’s back with your free hand until he ceases to cough.
The rest of the walk is blanketed in a comfortable silence, your gaze fixed on the fairy lights decorating the exterior of the school buildings. Once the lights have all but disappeared, your initial thought is that the dark hallways really don’t help Azul’s claim of not being a serial killer. If it’s true, then at least your last sight would be of a handsome man.
A few more minutes pass before you finally set foot inside the familiar Hall of Mirrors, Azul slowly guiding you to the mirror that connects to the Octavinelle dorm.
“You’ve never been to the Mostro Lounge before, have you?” Azul asks when he sees you staring apprehensively at the mirror.
“No, I haven’t.”
“It’s my pleasure to accompany you on your first visit then,” Azul smiles with a hand on his chest. “Hopefully, you’ll enjoy your time tonight so you can come visit again in the future.”
“I’m sure I’ll enjoy it since I’m with you, but will the tweels be there tonight? I can only imagine the amount of teasing we’re going to be enduring soon. Not that I mind!” you quickly add before Azul can take that as a sign to cancel.
“Hah, I thought about that too,” Azul mutters, two fingers rubbing circles on his temple as if to fight back an oncoming headache. “But…”
“But?” you tilt your head curiously, prying when Azul refuses to make eye contact with you.
Azul takes a deep breath, mentally willing himself to say possibly the cheesiest thing he’s ever said in his life, “but I don’t mind suffering just a little bit if you’ll be by my side.”
Now it’s your turn to start choking on air. Yeah, he definitely reads way too many romance novels.
❥
When you finally set foot inside the Monstro Lounge, it isn’t quite as busy as you had anticipated it to be. There are just a handful of patrons sitting around, mostly chattering amongst themselves and only momentarily stopping when you and Azul pass by.
It’s peaceful, and you have to wonder why Azul prefers to work in the library as opposed to here. And well, to be fair, it’s only this “slow” tonight due to Azul’s own doing. Ah, the sacrifices on profits he has to make for love.
You place your hand in Azul’s outstretched one after you enter the lounge, shy smiles on both of your faces as you allow him to guide you towards the kitchen. You don’t even notice that Azul hasn’t let go of your hand when you bump into Jade and Floyd.
“Oh, my, what a surprise to see you here, Azul,” Jade calmly says as he bows his head, “and y/n is here too. What a pleasant surprise. Good evening, y/n.”
“Ohhhh? Azul, you didn’t tell us you were bringing over a date tonight,” Floyd grins mischievously, only a second away from springing forward to squeeze you if Jade wasn’t holding on to the back of his shirt. “And it’s the dolphin from the library. Hi, dolphin.”
“H—hello,” you quickly greet the two men, your hand grasping Azul’s tighter in fear of an oncoming squeeze, “I hope we’re not intruding.”
“Not at all. I already told Jade beforehand that we were coming, so we’ll have the place to ourselves in a moment,” Azul answers you, his free hand adjusting the bridge of his glasses. “Please spare me that shocked look, Floyd. You know you’re the last person I would inform of a date.”
“Aw, Azul, you’re a meanie! I wouldn’t have teased you that much, I swear!” Floyd huffs and pouts.
“I can hardly believe that.”
“Now, now, Floyd. Let’s leave the lovebirds alone,” Jade coos, patting his brother on the back before slowly pushing him towards the direction you had just come in from. “Have a wonderful time, y/n. Azul.”
“You’ll be hearing from me later,” Floyd grumbles, pout still very apparent on his face while he reluctantly follows his brother out the door.
With their departure, the kitchen falls eerily silent, safe for the quiet hum of the commercial freezer in the corner. Azul silently lets go of your hand and dares to place a hand on the small of your back instead as he guides you deeper inside.
You’re not surprised by how impeccably clean the kitchen seems to be, surely Azul checks in often to ensure that everything is up to his standards and beyond. But what you are surprised by is the sight that greets you when Azul finally opens a door at the very back of the kitchen.
You’re greeted by the afternoon sunlight streaming through a window that doesn’t seem to belong in an underwater dorm. But there’s no way that you could be hallucinating the sight in front of you.
In the middle of the room is a long, wooden farm table with about four mismatched wooden chairs encompassing it; the wide window sill you saw first is showcasing several small pots that are homes to what you assume to be herbs and vegetables.
Azul notices your awe-filled gaze and retracts his hand, allowing you to roam around the room freely while he heads back to the kitchen to check on tonight’s dinner — courtesy of Jade. The acoustic in the room allows for your voice to be heard loud and clear though you’re technically in separate rooms.
“I didn’t know that they have rooms like this in the Coral Sea,” you say aloud, the tone of your voice conveying that your statement is serious.
“We definitely don’t,” you hear distant Azul’s chuckle and you can mentally picture the kind of smile the man has on his face at the moment. “That room is typically used as storage, but I borrowed a magic projector from Vil a while ago to make it look more home-y for you.”
“It certainly does look like home…” you say to yourself as you slowly take in your surroundings more carefully.
You’re not sure how Azul would know it himself as you’ve never talked to him about it before, but the setting before you — brought by a magic projector or not — does remind you of the dining room from back home. It’s been so long since you’d last seen it that you’d almost forgotten what it looked like.
It’s a kind gesture that brings tears of joy and nostalgia to your eyes.
“Thank you, Azul, this is really thoughtful of you. I don’t have anything to give you in return right now, but… what is it that you wish for, Azul?” you’ve made your way towards the kitchen by now, your shoulder leaning against the doorway as you gaze at the man with a look filled with curiosity.
Azul glances over his shoulders to look at you, his lips curving up into a soft smile as he shrugs, “if I tell you my wish, then it won’t come true.”
You fold your arms and hum in response, “okay, fair enough. I thought you were going to say ‘world domination’.”
“That’s such a plain wish, but I bet younger me would’ve wished for something just like that,” Azul laughs aloud at himself before shaking his head, “I think nowadays my wish is to be more confident in myself and my own abilities.”
You nod in understanding as you recall the brief stories he would share of his childhood. It seems that Azul has gone through so much in a short amount of time, but he’s also changed so much since then.
You walk over to the man and place your hand above his own, the steam from your dinner eventually warming your hand and dampening them as well.
“I think you’re doing a wonderful job right now, and I’m very proud of you,” you smile fondly at Azul, causing his eyes to widen in surprise and his chest to tighten as if he may burst into tears at any moment now.
“T—thank you…” it’s the first time someone has said anything like that to him before, and he’s not sure how he should respond. Right now, he’s only focused on making sure his face isn’t turning as red as Riddle’s.
“Of course! I’ll remind you of that as often as you’d like!”
Just as quickly as his expression changed before, Azul’s face brightens up once more at your response. He turns on his heels, his arms balancing a variety of plates packed with food. You reach out to help alleviate the burden on his arms, but he moves his arms away from your reach before leaning down to get to eye level with you.
“Then I have even more of a reason to be grateful, right? We got to meet each other, and my wishful thinking… may not be such after all.”
Your features crease into a look of confusion at the man’s unexpected words, but when you gaze into his dark grey orbs you can see the sincerity in them.
Unknowingly, the space between your faces starts to become smaller and smaller. Azul’s gaze shifts between your eyes, then your lips, then back up again. But before anything can happen, as if the universe is playing a joke on you, a plate in Azul’s arm shifts ever so slightly and causes the two of you to jump apart.
A rather awkward laugh makes its way past your lips and you hurriedly reach out to grab a few plates from Azul’s arms before he can protest. You don’t say a single word as you set the plates down onto the farm table, your mind too busy screaming a million incoherent thoughts, and Azul follows suit.
“I’m so sorry,” Azul is the first to break the silence once you’ve taken a seat diagonal to each other, on either side of a table corner.
“What? Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head while simultaneously waving your hands. Your fingers slowly curve into loose fists that you rest atop your lap, the small smile on your face mirroring Azul’s own.
“Do you… know why I asked you out tonight?” Azul hesitantly asks, a quiet sigh leaving his lips when you shake your head ‘no’. “Well, it’s just that I realized that we’ve spent most of our time together in the library— well, in fact, I have never seen you outside of the library. It finally occurred to me that I might be making you feel like you don’t matter outside of that space. Which you do!”
“I don’t feel that way though…” you try to reassure him, but it seems like your words only enter one ear and exit the other as he continues to speak.
“I’ve truly enjoyed exchanging all those letters with you and being able to connect through our shared love for books. But, if you don’t mind, I’d like to start seeing you outside of that too.”
It doesn’t take you long to process the situation and, to your utmost surprise, your heart isn’t hammering in your chest like you think it should. Instead your entire body feels comfortably warm and you have the overwhelming urge to embrace Azul.
At this point, you’ve garnered enough courage to do just that.
You stand up and quickly make your way over to him, your arms immediately wrapping themselves around Azul’s shoulders while your face hides in the crook of his neck. It takes a moment for him to respond, but Azul’s arms eventually find their place around your waist to press your body firmly against his.
“You’re such an idiot, Azul,” you mutter after what feels like an eternity has passed.
Your words cause the man’s lower lip to jut out into a pout, and he leans back ever so slightly so he can look at your face; you almost whine when the warmth of Azul’s body leaves you.
“Why am I an idiot?” Azul inquires, a hand moving to tuck loose strands of hair behind your ear.
“Because… if I really felt that way then I never would have kept reciprocating for so long. It doesn’t matter if we spent all that time in one place because it never got boring or tiring with you around,” you pause to flash a fond smile at Azul. “And even now, I’m having the time of my life just being here in your presence. Is that too corny to say? It’s the truth though.”
Azul chuckles in amusement while shaking his head, “it’s not corny. I think.”
It’s the first time that you’ve been so straightforward without getting flustered, and he’s not sure where your sudden courage came from.
Not that he’s complaining about it though.
When you two first met, you could barely hold a conversation with him for more than a minute. While he did feel a pang of disappointment every time, he never took it personally — especially not after seeing you interact with other students in a similar manner.
You caught him off guard when you finally approached him first, weeks after your first correspondences, though your cheeks were permanently warm while you tried your best to converse with him.
He found you adorable, like a newborn seal pup being introduced to the world for the first time.
Azul has always enjoyed your company since the beginning, whereas he’d prefer to be left alone to work in the past. But then he found himself going back to the library time and time again, until it became a regular occurrence.
He admittedly never got a lot of studying done when he was at the library — at least, not at the times when he accompanied you on your daily runs to shelve book returns.
Azul’s still not sure when his feelings developed beyond those of curiosity and friendship.
Perhaps it was when you could finally meet his eyes and hold contact, allowing him to gaze deep into your eyes that always seemed to sparkle with light and joy.
Or perhaps it was when he told you a dad joke so bad that it actually made you burst into a fit of giggles that left you breathless — the mere sight of you smiling gleefully tugging at his heartstrings in the best way.
Regardless of the when, where, why, and how’s, Azul is certain of his feelings for you.
“I wonder if this is how Benedick and Beatrice felt when they finally agreed to marry,” you comment, breaking through Azul’s thoughts.
Azul nearly snorts at your remark, “B—Benedick and Beatrice? You mean the ones from “Much Ado About Nothing”?”
“Yeah… why?”
The man laughs after your confirmation, your cheeks being partially squished between his palms as he brings your faces closer together until the tips of your noses are almost touching, “no offense — I adore that beautiful mind of yours — but I don’t think those two exactly exude the idea of ‘wholesome’.”
“But think of the relief they must’ve felt after they didn’t have to pretend they didn’t love each other anymore.”
“So, you love me?” Azul quirks an eyebrow up challengingly.
“Wh— you’re taking that too literally,” you grumble with a fist hitting the man’s chest gently, though the way you avoid his eyes and your cheeks are flushed tells him that he may be somewhere on the right path.
“Then… do you like me?” Azul inquires, and you can see the mischievous glint in his eyes when you finally meet them.
“Do we really have to say that out loud after we already did our monologues?”
“I want to hear it from you. Please.”
You swallow the small lump in your throat, though that’s the only sign of nervousness in your entire body.
You find it fascinating how quickly your body’s reactions change whenever Azul is around. There’s a sense of nerves and shyness when you’re in the midst of new experiences, but it just as quickly changes to feelings of calmness because the man brings you such a sense of comfort you never expected.
Just like how the lump in your throat dissipates and leaves you to gaze at Azul with complete fondness.
There’s not a moment of hesitation before your whispered confession of “I truly like you, Azul Ashengrotto.” hangs in the air.
Just those simple words of affirmation make Azul’s entire face light up, the sight of his bright smile making you feel like you were standing in the middle of a field and soaking in the warm summer sunlight.
“And I like you, y/n.”
Your bodies act as if on muscle memory, Azul’s face tilting ever so slightly while your eyes flutter shut. You’re not sure who closes the distance first. Perhaps it was both of you moving simultaneously, but your lips eventually meet in a fleeting and gentle kiss.
There were no fireworks igniting behind your eyelids like they’d described in the countless books you’ve read, but it still leaves you feeling lightheaded. Like you’re melting into Azul’s arms. Like there’s only the two of you alone in this vast world.
When you pull apart, the two of you giggle like schoolgirls but the action isn’t fueled by feelings of awkwardness or nervousness. You both gaze at each other with eyes full of admiration and budding feelings of love, the feelings that were hidden before from fear of being rejected finally bubbling up to the surface.
You’ve long forgotten about the now-cold plates of food sitting in front of you; opting to spend the rest of the night exchanging even more gentle kisses and whispered sweet nothings.
❥
The dynamics of your relationship with Azul hardly changed after you confirmed your feelings for one-another, and you truly feel grateful that there was no pressure on you to act differently.
Of course, now there were a lot more lingering touches, your fingers almost always intertwined if there was nothing to keep them busy. You’d even sneak brief kisses behind the cover of bookshelves when you thought no one was looking.
Even if neither of you were a fan of P.D.A., you made an exception for each other.
Nothing was made official between the two of you after that fateful night, as Azul opted to wait another half a year before asking you to be his partner.
You didn’t mind his decision to take things slow. You both wanted to make sure that your feelings for each other weren’t just illusions brought forth by letters on paper — though you knew that wasn’t the case anyways.
When he felt that the time was right, Azul asked the question in the best way that he knew how to: through book spines. Though unlike how he’d asked you on your “first date,” Azul didn’t shy away after dropping the books off.
He’d waited patiently for you to have some time to spare for him, his chin resting atop his folded arms at the checkout counter as he watched you help patron after patron check out books.
“I have something for you,” Azul could hardly contain his excitement when you finally turned to him and let him know you were free.
“What is it?”
You felt a sense of déjà vu watching Azul dig into his backpack and pull out a stack of books. He placed them down on the counter with the book spines facing you, and you’d half-expected him to walk away like before.
But he stayed there; his eyes curved into double rainbows coupled with a sweet smile, and his hands trembling ever so slightly in nervousness.
Will by [redacted] You by [redacted] Bees by [redacted] Mine by [redacted]
You had to hold back the squeal that was threatening to escape your larynx when you finally looked away from Azul long enough to read his message. Your mind already went over the fact that Azul had to substitute the word “be” with “bees” and you nodded so hard Azul thought your head might fly off.
Now it’s been exactly a year since you two made your relationship official. In the year you’ve spent as a couple — and even before then — you’d fallen into a pleasant routine.
During the weekdays, while you’re working at the library, Azul would be studying in his usual spot in the corner of the second story. After some time, he’d suspiciously stopped asking you to proofread his work.
Every Friday night, he would try out new dinner recipes and you would be in charge of baking dessert — and you wonder how his kitchen has managed to stay so spotless after all this time.
Sometimes you would invite Epel, Ace, and Deuce to come over too, and the first time your friends agreed to come, they were appalled by how sweet you and Azul were; but they secretly loved seeing you genuinely happy in this strange new world.
Saturday’s were reserved for the show-and-tell of Azul’s enormous coin collection, with the latter recalling stories of when he found them on solo adventures in the Coral Sea. When you asked why he had so many, Azul explained that they help with his memory and it’s exciting to learn of the history behind especially old coins. You can’t argue with him there.
Sunday’s are for those who may say that your relationship seems too mundane. You both agreed to do something new during this day, may it be something as small as feeding ducks near the pond or as adventure packed as tagging along with Jade on his strolls in the mountains.
Either way, you always ended the day cuddling up next to each other in Azul’s bedroom.
The collections of books in this world are endless, and you’ve made it a habit to take turns reading aloud to each other until you both fell asleep late into the night.
But this Sunday, the exact day of your one-year anniversary with Azul, the man had asked if you could stay at home. Your homebody-self answered “yes” without hesitation.
It’s already nightfall by the time you find yourselves stuffed with dinner and cake and situated under the wooden pergola illuminated by Vil’s borrowed magic projector. Your comfortable silence is accompanied by the soothing chirping of crickets and a night sky sprinkled with the brightest stars.
“Happy anniversary, angel,” Azul says with a warm smile before bringing your hands up to press tender kisses along your knuckles.
“Angel”: it’s a hypocorism that Azul has grown fond of calling you by. When he first started to call you as such, you found it amusing because it’s a name that better suits him.
“Happy anniversary, darling,” your smile mirrors Azul’s own, a quiet giggle escaping your lips when his lips tickle your skin.
It’s a wonder that time has passed so quickly.
It felt like just yesterday you saw Azul entering the library, with not a single clue as to who he was — and now here you are, more than positive that you’re in love with the man sitting in front of you.
“I love you”: it’s a sentence that has remained unspoken between the two of you. Not because you don’t love each other, because even a jellyfish could see that you do, but because neither of you ever felt the need to verbalize those feelings.
Until now.
“Azul,” you call out, waiting until he glances up and hums in response. “I love you.”
A minute of silence follows, then two, then three, and as more time passes on, you can feel a sense of panic growing stronger in the pit of your stomach.
Had you thought wrong? Did you just jump the gun when Azul didn’t feel as strongly for you as you did for him?
“I have something for you,” Azul’s soothing voice cuts through your anxious thoughts.
You try to ignore the pang of disappointment that accompanies your panic.
He didn’t say it back.
“What is it?” you ask, your voice sounding weak.
“Close your eyes.”
You do as you’re told, keeping your eyes closed as Azul lets go of your hands. You can hear him rummaging around for something, and you have to wonder what it could be.
Your eyes only open again when Azul gives you the okay to.
Azul places what appears to be a manuscript atop your lap, and you look at him with a puzzled expression on your face as you pick the bundle of papers up, ”what is this?”
“I didn’t tell you this before because I was too embarrassed, but I decided to try writing a book of my own,” Azul chuckles, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m getting close to done. I just wanted you to see it first, even though I know you hate spoilers.”
“I absolutely do,” you declare as you roll your eyes in a playful manner.
“I know, I know, but…” Azul bites on his lower lip, his voice trailing off as he contemplates how to word his next sentence. “I’m better at writing out my feelings than I am verbally expressing it, and I’ve included it here. I’d love for you to read it first before the rest of the world.”
“I think you’re better at expressing your feelings aloud than you think you are, darling.”
You can’t deny that you feel honored to have Azul regard you highly enough to have you be the first to read his nearly completed work. Sure, you’ve spent hours proofreading essays and the like before, but this felt different.
Azul’s hands are clasped together tightly enough to make his skin appear a few shades lighter, anxiety coursing through his body as he watches you flip to the first page of the manuscript where the dedication page is. He’s not sure why he feels that way when he knows exactly how you feel about him.
Your eyes and mind slowly take in the words written on the page.
Were you suddenly hallucinating sweet words onto paper? A quick glance up at Azul tells you no.
His written feelings bring tears of happiness to the corners of your eyes, and it takes all your willpower to not throw your arms around the man and kiss him right then and there.
To my muse, my angel, my wonderful y/n, You know what people say about meeting your soulmate? It feels like you’re at home the moment you meet them. I think they’re right, because while the sight of your beautiful smile makes my heart race, you also make me feel safe and comfortable. It’s like one look from you lifts the weight of the world off my shoulders, like there’s absolutely nothing for me to worry about. Without you, I would never have experienced things and feelings that I thought were only possible in books. It’s with our fond memories in mind that I write this book. Thank you. Thank you for choosing to spend your days with me. Thank you for being a beacon of support during the times I was clouded with self-doubt and during the times I wasn’t. I love you. “Yours is the light by which my spirit’s born: you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.” - E.E. Cummings
More Posts from Tingerines and Others
Do not speak to me for a few minutes. I’m molting. I need a beach episode event like, now.
Art is by yudo_fu_nabe on Twitter!
Pairing: Riddle x GN!Reader Genre: Fluff
Everything about Riddle Rosehearts is almost perfect.
He’s handsome, kind, respectful, smart, and very well-spoken — but he takes nearly everything too seriously. That, of course, includes his work.
When you initially saw him at the company’s grand event for new hires, he could have easily fooled you for being an executive with the way he carries himself.
It comes as a surprise when you discover that not only will the two of you be working in the same department together, but you’re also the same age.
But it’s not like you obtained this information from the man himself. Instead, one of your seniors — an attractive young man named Cater Diamond who claims to have gone to college with Riddle — was the one to let you know.
“Are you interested in Riddle? I can call him over if you’d like,” Cater’s eyes hold a glimmer of mischief as he speaks of the offer.
You raise an eyebrow skeptically before sparing a glance towards the general direction you last saw Riddle disappearing into. You absentmindedly stir your vodka tonic with a straw and shake your head.
“No, thanks. A man like that has no interest in sitting around and talking to fresh meat like me,” you state plainly, causing Cater to chuckle in amusement.
“Oh, you’re misunderstanding him. Riddle’s great. Here, I’ll prove it,” Cater sits up straight and ignores your hushed pleas for him to stop whatever it is he was planning on doing. He cups his hands on either side of his mouth before calling out, “Riddleeee! Over hereeee!”
You shrink into yourself in embarrassment as most of the conversations around you cease. You could practically feel all the eyes burning curious holes into your figure, but thankfully the feeling doesn’t last for too long.
The sound of someone clearing their throat makes you correct your posture, and you find yourself face-to-face with Riddle Rosehearts once you’ve sat up properly.
“You didn’t have to yell to get my attention, Cater,” Riddle scolds the older man, but the latter doesn’t seem to mind the stern tone in his voice.
Cater rubs the back of his neck and offers the younger man an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, but you were all the way across the room. Anyways, have you met y/n yet?”
“Y/n?” Riddle questions, his head turning to follow the direction Cater’s hand is gesturing towards.
He meets your eyes just as you were about to turn away and hide. But since you’re caught in the act, you’re forced to offer him a tight-lipped smile and a small wave, “that would be me. Hi.”
“Hi, I’m Riddle Rosehearts,” the man holds a hand out for you to shake briefly.
“Nice to meet you,” you reply, the awkwardness of the situation making you sip at your vodka tonic just to keep yourself busy.
While Riddle turns back to a conversation with Cater, you shoot daggers at the latter that you hope conveys what a bad idea this turned out to be.
Needless to say, your first encounter with Riddle Rosehearts was anything but perfect. In fact, it felt so awkward that you decided to hide your face from his sight every chance you got.
But try as you might, it’s literally impossible for you to avoid the man when you’re working in the same department. The senior analyst (damn you, Cater) even has the two of you sitting next to each other.
On the bright side? It doesn’t seem like Riddle is a fan of small talk, so you don’t have to try too hard to avoid him.
In your work environment, Riddle is almost perfect.
He learns fast, and is always the first one to volunteer to take on new projects or suggest changes to make your jobs more efficient. But his relentless work ethic also causes him to work too many hours to the point that you wonder if he ever goes home and sleeps.
“Sevens— have your eye bags always been that bad?” Cater is the only one brave enough to bring the topic up to the younger man — and, predictably, Riddle looks unamused by the prodding.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. My eye bags are normal-sized,” Riddle says without taking his eyes off his computer screen.
“They’re the normal size for sleep deprived people,” Cater retorts with a roll of his eyes. When Riddle doesn’t reply, he decides to change targets and makes his way over to your cubicle. “Hi, y/n.”
“Hey. I haven’t seen you around in a while, Cater,” you hit “Save” on the spreadsheet you’ve been working on before turning your chair around to face said man. “Have you finally gotten tired of marketing?”
“Absolutely not! I am having the time of my life marketing away! Social media is my L-O-M-L,” Cater says in mock offense and a hand clutching his chest. “I just stopped by to say ‘hello’ to my dear friends in the Finance department.”
Riddle shoots Cater with a suspicious side eye. He’s not sure if his friend is acting strange because he’s interested in you or because he’s simply up to something else; years of friendship would tell Riddle that it’s the latter.
For who is Cater Diamond if he’s not trying to cause some sort of mischief for fun?
“I also have a favor to ask of you, y/n,” Cater smiles sheepishly as he leans down and lowers his voice to a whisper. “Could you make sure that Riddle leaves at a reasonable time today?”
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion at the man’s request, “why can’t you do that?”
“Because I’m not the one who has a little crush on him,” Cater sing-songs before taking a step back to avoid your attempts to swat him.
“I do not have a crush on him. I barely know the guy, and—and he’s your friend,” you hiss out, careful to keep your voice’s volume low.
“And I don’t believe you! So will you do me this favor?”
You take a moment before giving Cater an answer. Your eyes trail to Riddle’s hunched over frame, where the light from his computer screen illuminates his face, and you can see that Cater’s right about his eye bags.
You sigh in defeat before nodding, “fine, I’ll try. But you know that he’s very stubborn.”
“Yeah, I know. Good luckkk,” Cater shoots finger guns at you and turns in a rush to leave your cubicle before he gets yelled at by a superior for slacking off. “See ya!”
You silently wave goodbye to Cater’s retreating figure before your shoulders slump down and you turn back to your computer screen.
You spend the next few minutes typing away on your keyboard, your mind too focused on making sure that the data and numbers you were entering is correct, that you don’t even notice Riddle’s presence besides you.
He clears his throat and you guess that’s his way of making his presence known to people. It’s not the most polite method, unlike the way you’d assume he’d address most people.
Could it be that he’s just not particularly fond of you?
“Yes?” you ask without sparing the man a glance.
“I’ll go home when you do today. So don’t worry about asking me to leave.”
“What?” you look at Riddle in confusion, unsure if you’d heard the man correctly.
“You’re both terrible at whispering,” the man chuckles at the horrified expression appearing on your face. “But since Cater asked you for a favor, he must actually be concerned about me. So I’ll leave early today.”
“Um… just how much of that conversation did you hear?” you ask in a hushed voice, your feature twisting as if you’re in pain.
“That depends. What else did you talk about besides that and your ‘little crush’ on me?” The smile Riddle offers you is sweet, and you can tell by the dash of pink on his cheeks that he doesn’t mean to tease you maliciously.
“I’m going to dig a hole in my backyard to lay in after work,” you nod absentmindedly as you mumble to yourself and turn your chair back in place.
Riddle laughs to himself and leaves your cubicle to return to his own; the absence of his presence allows you to finally let out a breath you were holding in.
You try to focus on your work, but the mental image of the man smiling at you feels like it’s permanently stamped onto your brain. He didn’t even smile when you were first introduced, but now that you’ve seen it, you’re even more smitten.
The remainder of the day’s work hours tick by at a snail’s pace. Every time you think you’ve been working for at least an hour, the computer clock would say it’s only been 5 minutes.
By the time Cater announced that it was time to leave, you feel as if you’ve aged a good ten years.
“Thank goodness,” you sigh as you stretch your arms out above your head, the stiff muscles of your back protesting as you move.
“Are you ready to go?” a voice asks above your head, causing you to jolt in surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Riddle? What are you doing here?” you ask when you turn your head to look at your unexpected visitor.
“I’m waiting for you to leave so I can leave too,” the man says his answer as if you should have known all along.
You laugh and stand up before collecting your messenger bag and slinging it across your chest, “you know you didn’t have to wait for me, right?”
“That’d be very rude of me,” Riddle waits until you appear to be ready to go before gesturing for you to walk ahead of him.
“No, it wouldn’t,” you laugh again and comply with the man’s wishes by making the first moves to leave your cubicle. “Well, maybe if we were friends, it’d be rude.”
“Aren’t we friends?”
Your eyes search Riddle’s face for any sign that would indicate he’s trying to pull your leg. But, as usual, Riddle is being serious.
“Would you consider me a friend?” you challenge once you’ve stepped inside an elevator and pressed the button to the building’s lobby.
“Sure. Any friend of Cater’s is a friend of mine’s,” Riddle says nonchalantly with a shrug.
“That didn’t sound convincing at all. If you want to be my friend, you’ll have to start doing things that friends would do.”
The elevator doors open with a loud ding and the two of you step out into the lobby to find that a light rainshower has begun to fall.
Riddle rummages through his backpack for the travel umbrella he keeps inside at all times for emergencies such as this. With the rose red bundle in hand, he’s about to exit the building when he realizes that you haven’t moved an inch since exiting the elevator.
“Y/n, I was serious: I’m not leaving until you do,” Riddle calls out for your attention, his arms crossed and his back pressed against the glass door of the entrance as you face him.
“The weather forecast didn’t say anything about rain today, so I didn’t bring an umbrella,” you confess as your ears begin to warm up from embarrassment.
“Do you walk home?”
“Yeah, I live nearby in those apartment complexes a couple blocks North from here.”
Riddle mentally pictures the nearby roads as you begin to explain them to him, using the landmarks you recognize to pinpoint where exactly your home would be before deciding that it shouldn’t be too long of a walk.
“C’mon, I’ll walk you home. Unless you prefer I wait here with you until this is over,” Riddle adds quickly before you could protest.
“No— let’s go home,” you smile gratefully as you quickly make your way over to him.
The man situates the umbrella above his head and waits for you to scurry over to his side before you start the short journey to your apartment building.
Your budding friendship with Riddle is almost perfect.
Despite your initial judgment, Riddle is actually someone who likes to smile and crack jokes a lot. He’s good at listening to your problems and giving advice when you ask for it — and on the same token, he knows exactly what to say to cheer you up when you’re upset.
The only problem with your friendship is that what started off as an infatuation with the man has turned to a full-blown crush.
“Hello, my precious friends!”
Oh, and also now Cater won’t leave the two of you alone during working hours.
“Cater… we literally just got here. How do you have so much energy already?” you groan as you pinch the bridge of your nose in an attempt to fight back an oncoming headache.
“Are you alright?” Riddle asks, the concern clear in his voice when he notices the pained look on your face.
“Yeah, I just haven’t had my coffee yet,” you offer Riddle as wide a smile as you could muster up in the moment. “Thanks for asking.”
“Of course,” Riddle smiles brightly at you before it quickly disappears when he turns his attention back to Cater. “Go. Shoo before I have your head. We’ll see you for lunch.”
“Sheesh, it’s been a while since you’ve said that. It’s still scary… G-2-G!”
With that, Cater scurries away towards his own department and leaves the two of you to wordlessly turn to your computers.
Every adult has their own daily routines, and somehow you’ve made yours around the two least likely friends you could have made.
You’re grateful for their presence though, and especially for Cater’s outgoing personality — no matter how annoying he could get sometimes — because you would have been too shy and awkward to reach out to anyone first.
Another plus? Work goes by so much faster when you have something to look forward to for lunch hours and after work hours.
None of you like to leave the building in search of better food than the menus served in the company’s cafeteria. So, at 1:00 P.M. sharp, you always meet up at the basement floor to debate what is and isn’t going to give you food poisoning.
The safest bet? An egg salad sandwich and a bag of chips.
“I don’t know why you subject yourself to this mediocre food, Riddle. You’re the only one out of the three of us who can actually cook,” you jokingly comment once you’ve found an empty table to sit at.
“He’s let you try his food before?” Cater asks with a raise of his eyebrow.
“No, but it always smelled good when he brought it in the past. Wait— is that weird to say? I’m sorry if it’s weird,” you grimace, but Riddle chuckles at your comment and shakes his head.
“It’s not weird, don’t worry. I just haven’t had enough time to cook in advance with all the extra hours I’ve been working.”
“You know that those hours are optional and you really should go home and get some sleep— right?”
“There’s no use in trying to convince him, y/n,” Cater cuts into the conversation with a cheeky grin. “But since Riddle’s too busy, I’ll spend time with you instead! We can learn how to cook together.”
You squint your eyes at the mischievous man and before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “why would I want to do that?”
“Ouch,” Cater gasps dramatically as he falls back on his chair and clutches his chest.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” you say with a roll of your eyes.
“Could it be because…” Cater leans forward on the table clearly unphased and fake whispers, “you’re interested in someone else?”
You could practically see Riddle’s ears perk up at Cater’s words and you wave your hands frantically to dismiss the accusation.
“Wh— I’m not— I’m not interested in anyone,” you stammer out, hoping your burning cheeks don’t betray how flustered you are.
You miss the way Riddle’s face briefly falls in disappointment, but Cater doesn’t. It’s like that was the light switch that turned a light bulb on inside his head and he suddenly places his hands over yours.
“Then you can’t say no to going on a date with me!”
“Y—yes, I can,” you protest, but it comes out sounding more like a question.
You know that the man has no romantic interest in you, so you’re not sure where this request for a date came from. But with the determined look on his face and a familiar glint in his green orbs, you know that he’s up to some sort of mischief again.
“Fine, we can learn how to cook together. If that’s what you mean by ‘a date’,” you sigh and pull your hands away from Cater’s grasp.
“Great!” Cater exclaims and shoots Riddle an innocent smile, “we can do that after you walk Riddle home today.”
“Is it really necessary to appoint y/n as my chaperone?” Riddle finally speaks up with a hint of annoyance to his voice.
You’re caught off guard by the tone of his voice. You’ve never known Riddle to be someone who could get upset or annoyed easily, but you suppose you don’t know everything about him.
Besides, getting cranky is a side effect of being sleep deprived — or so Mr. Google would have you believe.
“I’ll walk you home, I don’t mind,” you meet Riddle’s tired eyes and smile softly. “And just like last time, I won’t take no for an answer so don’t even try it.”
“Okay, fine,” Riddle smiles half-heartedly and shoves the remnants of his egg salad sandwich back into its ziplock bag. “I’ll try to finish early so you won’t be late for your… date.”
You and Cater exchange glances, yours filled with confusion and his filled with smugness; looks like his hunch may be right after all.
After knowing the man for a decent amount of time, you still think that Riddle Rosehearts is almost perfect.
He’s a diligent worker and a wonderful friend, but you can never guess what’s on his mind — nor is he ever vocal about his feelings.
Well, you suppose that might be seen as a strength in some people’s eyes.
After lunch, you could tell that something was bugging Riddle. He didn’t spare you a glance for the rest of the day until it was time for you to go home — and even then, he barely spoke a word as you rode the elevator down to the lobby.
“It’s raining again,” Riddle comments while rummaging through his backpack. “But don’t worry, I… I have my umbrella? I can’t find it— what?”
He looks up when you poke at his shoulder and see a familiar rose red bundle in your hand. His eyes widen in surprise at the sight of his umbrella in your possession, “I don’t remember leaving that with you.”
“It’s not yours, actually,” you correct him with a gentle smile. “We just happen to have the same colored umbrella.”
“Small world. I must have left mine drying at home,” he readjusts his backpack, stepping aside to let you exit the building first and open your umbrella.
“That was over a week ago, Riddle.”
“Did I mention I have a bad memory?” you give Riddle a look of disbelief, knowing that no one with bad memory would be able to remember 810 rules and still remember them well after finishing school.
“I have a bad memory too, but apparently not as bad as yours,” you joke, poking the man at his side.
Riddle hums and stares at the sidewalk ahead, ears growing red from the feeling of your unwavering eyes on him. For a few minutes, you walk in silence, the only sound being the rain gently pattering on the nylon material of the umbrella.
Every now and then, Riddle would steal glances at you. It’s not the first time he’s done it. Even at work, he couldn’t help stealing glances at you.
He was never sure of what the reason for that could be — until he listened to you accept to go on a date with his friend.
Instead of being happy for the two of you, he felt jealous; jealous that Cater had the courage to ask you out and jealous that you accepted.
But did he have any right to feel jealous when he knew you were interested in him before — and he didn’t make a single move then?
Maybe he could change that now.
“Would… would your memory be bad enough to forget that you have a date with Cater tonight?” Riddle hesitantly asks, his voice almost too quiet for you to hear him over the rain.
“I don’t need a bad memory to forget about that. No offense to Cater. He’s great and all, but…” your voice trails off before you bite on your bottom lip to keep yourself from elaborating.
“But?”
“Oh, no, mister. You tell me why you’re bringing up Cater when we both know he was definitely just pulling my leg earlier.”
“Well,” Riddle breathes out, face beginning to turn the same shade of red as his hair, “he was definitely pulling mine too.”
“What do you mean?”
The two of you stop walking when you reach an all-way stop and Riddle turns to you with his lips pressed into a thin line. He appears to be deep in thought and you know better than to interrupt him in the middle of it.
“I think— no, I know. I like you,” Riddle blurts out before he could talk himself out of it.
“Like… as a friend?” you question and grip the strap of your bag tightly.
“No, as more than a friend. And I can’t believe Cater was the one that made me realize that,” Riddle laughs shortly.
“Oh, well, I—I like you too,” you can’t help but giggle nervously after your confession.
“So, that means it’s not too late for me to ask you out on a coffee date?”
“No, Riddle, it’s not too late,” You take a step towards the man and, after mustering up all the courage you have, lean in to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’d love to go on a coffee date with you.”
Which TWST Character Are You?
This is not a fic exactly, but... I made a quiz! It's 50 questions, so it's pretty long too!
If anyone is interested in taking it, I'd love to hear what result you all received and if you agree with it or not? I'm thinking I might have to revamp this quiz a little because I'm not so sure I agree with the result I got, personally. Then again, I tried to make it accurate, so mayhaps I am just in denial.
Here is the link for anyone interested! Much love, always ♡
(P.S. - I also considered making a 'TWST soulmate' quiz--I'd love to hear thoughts on that too! Thanks ♡)
Pairing: Jamil x GN!Reader Genre: Fantasy, Fluff A/N: This fic is set in modern-day Japan where the NRC boys are magicless and you are the magical being. :^) I'm also today years-old when I realized I really put Ace as a side character for all of my fics.
Growing up, Jamil used to wish upon a star.
That star was always the brightest one in the night sky, yet it never seemed to stay up there for very long. But Jamil never minded that because to him, it was like that star disappeared to work on his wishes every time.
After some time, as Jamil grew older and became more preoccupied with the challenges life provided him, he stopped making wishes.
Long forgotten was the brightest star in the sky — though it continued to sparkle, watching over Jamil every night as if it was a sort of guardian angel.
He didn’t even notice that the star never left the sky anymore after he’d stopped making wishes.
That is, until one day, Jamil finally remembered the star.
It’s just past sunset on a Thursday evening when Jamil’s friend Ace comes strutting into his shared dorm room. He’s twirling a set of keys in his index finger while the other hand is shoved inside the pocket of his denim pants.
“Hey,” Ace greets as he leans against the wall next to Jamil’s desk. “Are you busy tonight?”
Jamil hums in response without taking his eyes off his laptop. He remains silent while his fingers are busy rapidly typing the last sentences to his history paper.
“Okay,” Jamil breathes out as he finally shuts off his laptop with a sharp click. He briefly rubs circles on his temple before glancing over at Ace. “What were you saying?”
“Are you free tonight? Deuce wants us to accompany him tonight for a project for his planet-something class,” Ace waves his hand dismissively in the air, the keys in his hand jingling along with the motion.
“We’re architecture majors. Why would he ask us for help?” Jamil asks as his face twists into a mixture of confusion and disgust.
“No, not help— unless he really wants to fail his class. He has to go look at some constellations or something, and he doesn’t want to do it alone. So can you come or not?”
Jamil chews on his lower lip as he thinks. He’d just finished the last assignment that’s due this week and he’s got no other plans for the weekend besides to catch up on sleep.
“Fine, I’m in,” Jamil rolls his eyes before getting up and trailing behind a much-too-giddy Ace.
He follows the male out of the dormitory to where his car is parked. In the backseat is seated a napping Deuce whose head is resting on Lilia’s shoulder. Meanwhile, Lilia is busy playing a game on his phone, and Jamil has to wonder how Deuce’s able to sleep when Lilia’s arms are shaking at 50 kilometers per hour.
“Sevens, Lilia. Could you be any more aggressive?” Ace asks once he’s situated in the driver’s seat.
“Sorry,” Lilia grins without a hint of guilt on his face. “Hey, Jamil.”
“Hey,” Jamil nods towards the older male after securing his seatbelt across his chest. “So… where are we going, exactly?”
“Shizuoka prefecture. It’s going to be quite the drive, so feel free to take a nap if you need it. I’m loaded on Red Bull too,” Ace enters the coordinates into his GPS before propping his phone up on a car phone mount.
Accompanying the monotone voice of the GPS is a playlist filled with piano covers of Studio Ghibli movies’ soundtracks.
It doesn’t take long for the gentle melodies to lull Jamil to sleep. His head gently and rhythmically taps against the cold surface of the car window as Ace cruises past the few hours’ drive to Gekko Observatory.
It feels like only a handful of minutes have passed by when Jamil is shaken awake by Ace. He groans as he stretches his arms out from his sides, his eyes blinking rapidly until his vision finally adjusts to the dark surroundings.
“We’re here?” Jamil asks, his voice still hoarse from sleep.
“Yes, we’re here. You wouldn’t wake up earlier, so I gave you an extra ten minutes,” Ace steps back and closes the car door once Jamil finally stumbles out of his seat. “Come on. Let’s go before I forget where Deuce dragged us off to.”
Jamil follows Ace as he makes his way past the main observatory buildings. They walk away from the well lit areas towards a much darker space, somewhere that allows them to see the stars in the night sky that much better.
They slowly approach a relatively large red tent set up in the middle of a grassy field. Beside it lay a still-gaming Lilia and Deuce setting up his telescope.
“Is this allowed?” Jamil asks as he plops down onto the grass next to Lilia.
“Yeah! As long as we don’t disturb the youth camp, I’m sure there’s no problem,” Deuce briefly nudges his head to the left before turning his attention back to his telescope.
Everyone sits in silence for a few minutes. For the small group of four, the silence is uncommon but it isn’t uncomfortable.
It gives them the chance to take in the fresh air and peaceful atmosphere that’s a stark contrast to life at university.
Jamil could hear crickets chirping, and it’s accompanied by the distant sound of children’s yells and laughter. The mental image of their carefree spirit brings a smile to his face without him even realizing it.
“So… what is it that you’re looking for, Deuce?” Lilia’s question cuts through the quietness first.
“Stars, Lilia. I’m looking for stars,” Deuce chuckles as he peers through the eyepiece of the telescope.
Jamil lays down onto the grass, his ears completely blocking out Lilia’s onslaught of questions for Deuce and his eyes trained on the dark night sky.
And there it was: a familiar bright twinkle in the sky.
Out of all the stars that he could see — and yes, there were many — that one shines the brightest of them all.
Then Jamil remembers that particular habit he had of wishing upon a star when he was younger. It’s been such a long time that he’d almost forgotten all about it.
But he feels certain that that star is the same star from his childhood.
A small smile plays on Jamil’s lips as he thinks back to all the wishes he’s made in the past. Most of them were silly, he was only a child after all.
His very first wish was for a plate of sushi in the middle of the night when he was only 7 years-old. It was on a night when he couldn’t fall asleep and decided to find his father who was still working in his home office.
“Dad?” Jamil whispers as he carefully opens the door and peeks into the dimly lit room.
Jamil’s father glances up from the pile of paperwork he’d been sorting through and smiles softly when he sees Jamil standing awkwardly at the entrance of his office, “hey, how long have you been standing there for? Come in, son.”
“I’m sorry… I couldn’t sleep,” Jamil scratches at the nape of his neck, a nervous habit he’d picked up on recently.
“That’s alright, I was just about done here anyways,” his father shakes his head and closes a thick manila folder shut. “How about we go out back? Maybe it’ll help you clear your head.”
“‘Clear my head’?” Jamil echoes, the curiosity clearly etched onto his face.
“Yes. Sometimes when I can’t sleep, it’s because I’m thinking too much about something. So we have to do something to help fix that,” Jamil’s father gets up from his seat and holds a hand out towards Jamil.
“Okay, what are we doing?” Jamil places his hand in his father’s much larger one and follows the man out of his home office.
They walk towards the back of the house, towards the French doors that open up to a generously spacious backyard.
Jamil and his father take a seat on one of the benches there, and for a moment, no one says anything.
But, unlike how he is today, 7 year-old Jamil cannot sit still — at least, not in silence — for very long. Not even when there’s an ensemble of crickets surrounding him.
“Dad?” Jamil pokes at his father’s shoulder, “what are we doing out here?”
“Well…” his father sighs before gazing up at the night sky. Jamil’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he followed his father’s gaze. “We’re stargazing.”
“Why?” the question comes out sounding a bit meaner than Jamil intended it to. He shakes his head quickly, as if to dismiss the question. “I—I’m sorry, I mean…”
His father chuckles before placing a hand on Jamil’s shoulder, “it’s okay, I understand what you meant. Have you heard about making wishes on stars?”
“Like that one song? From Cinderella?” he tries to say it rather nonchalantly, but due to his younger sister’s recent obsession with Disney princesses and their movies, Jamil begrudgingly has the song lyrics memorized at this point.
“Just like that,” his father chuckles again, his eyes sparkling in amusement as if he could read Jamil’s thoughts. “Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I’ll just sit out here and look at the stars. It’s very relaxing to me. And sometimes, maybe on the days when I feel too stressed out about something, I’ll make a wish on one.”
“Why are you stressed out, dad?” Jamil inquires with a prominent frown to his face.
“Because… of adult things that you don’t have to worry about for now.”
“Oh… but can I still make a wish anyways?”
“Of course, you can. Just pick a star and think about your wish. You can’t say it out loud or it won’t come true,” his father ruffles his hair and gives him a kind smile before returning his attention back to the sky.
Jamil also looks up at the sky where a bright star immediately catches his attention. Perhaps it was because he didn’t take the time to look elsewhere, but he could have sworn that one was the brightest of them all.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted to wish for. Heck, he wasn’t even sure he believed in wishing on a star.
But there’s a first for everything, right?
So, with his dark orbs fixed on that bright star and his stomach inaudibly grumbling, Jamil wishes for the first thing that comes to mind: sushi.
He didn’t say it out loud and there weren't any special occasions coming up that would warrant it — but when Jamil woke up the next morning, he found a wide assortment of sushi rolls laid out on the kitchen table.
He thought that there was no way it could have been a coincidence, that the star must have heard him and granted him his wish. That moment made him a believer, and he began to make wishes more frequently.
“Deuce, what’s the name of that star? That really bright one,” Jamil asks without thinking, the question interrupting the conversation his friends had been having.
“Which one?” Deuce looks towards the sky, trying to pinpoint exactly where Jamil’s index finger was gesturing towards. “I think you may be looking at Arcturus. It’s the brightest star in the Boötes constellation.”
“So that’s its name,” Jamil mumbles to himself.
“What was that?” Deuce asks with his head tilted slightly.
“No, it’s nothing. Thank you,” Jamil shakes his head dismissively.
His silence after that is enough of a signal to his friends that he was done with the brief conversation. If he tries to explain his attachment to the star, would his friends think that he was being silly?
He thinks even Deuce, the one who is absolutely in love with them, would think that it was weird.
So, Jamil keeps the star as a secret to himself.
Perhaps he isn’t afraid of his friends thinking of him as foolish. No, perhaps it is merely a part of his selfishness that if the star could truly grant wishes, he wanted to keep that ability all to himself.
That brings him to a wish that suddenly blossoms inside his heart. He’s not sure when the seed was planted there, but a sudden thought occurs to him.
If the star could really hear me now, I wish I could meet them and say ‘thank you’ to them.
Jamil has to fight the sudden urge to slap himself because of how silly he finds the thought. Where did it even come from?
The lack of sleep and feelings of nostalgia must be causing him to think irrationally.
He finally sits up and scoots himself closer to the small circle his friends have formed around Deuce’s telescope.
“Do you want to take a look?” Deuce asks when he notices the thoughtful look on Jamil’s face. His body is slightly turned towards him as he nudges his telescope’s eyepiece aside. “At the stars, I mean.”
“Can I?”
“Sure. If it was Lilia, I’d think twice.”
“Hey! I’m not the one that spilled spaghetti on Ace’s laptop!” Lilia protests loudly which causes the other three men to shush him before they receive a complaint. He grimaces before lowering his voice, “sorry, sorry.”
“I only spilled it because someone decided it was the perfect time to body slam me in the cafeteria,” Jamil jokingly bites back before getting up and making his way towards Deuce.
“Arcturus, right? I adjusted the telescope so if you look, you can see it even more closely,” Deuce takes a seat on a short bench besides the telescope, watching as Jamil closes one eye and peers through the eyepiece with the other.
“Whoa,” Jamil says in awe under his breath once his eyes have adjusted to the new way of seeing the night sky, “it’s even prettier through a telescope. I can see why you enjoy this so much.”
“It’s never too late to change your major if you want to join the dark side,” Deuce chuckles as his head tilts back to look at the sky as well.
“In your dreams,” Jamil mumbles with a grin on his face when he finally leans away from the telescope. “Plus, Ace would literally bury me ten feet under if I left him in the program by himself.”
“I heard that,” Ace calls out before chucking a handful of grass towards Jamil’s head that falls down almost as quickly as it was sent up.
Deuce laughs again and sends Ace an apologetic look, “don’t worry, your best friend is safe and sound in the architecture department with you.”
Ace immediately makes a gagging sound at the mention of “best friend” before turning his attention back to the game he and Lilia were busy playing.
“Well, I’m just about done here. Maybe another hour and we can start heading back,” Deuce announces. “And… thanks for coming out here with me tonight, guys.”
The news is met with an unanimous “okay” from the rest of the group. Jamil moves away from the telescope so Deuce could take his place and continue whatever project he’d been working on prior.
“Huh, that’s weird. Arcturus is gone,” Deuce says aloud, mostly to himself, but the words capture Jamil’s attention.
Jamil’s gaze trails up to where he’d been captivated by the bright star mere moments ago, only to find that it was truly gone.
Just like before. How strange…
❥
The following Monday, there’s someone Jamil has never seen before sitting at the seat next to his usual one in one of his classes. He makes eye contact with them almost immediately after walking into the room and thinks they definitely must be a new student.
There’s no way I’d forget such an attractive face like that.
Someone behind Jamil clears their throat, signaling for him to move, because he’s blocking the flow of traffic by standing right in the middle of the doorway.
“Oh, sorry,” Jamil mumbles and bows his head apologetically.
He makes his way towards his seat with his eyes glued to his shoes, all of his usual confidence slowly leaking out. He’s not sure why the unknown person beside him is making him feel so nervous, and he’s not quite sure how to deal with it.
Lucky for Jamil, he doesn’t have to make the first move today.
“Um… excuse me?”
Jamil feels a poke on his upper arm. It makes him look up and make eye contact with you once again.
“Yes?” Jamil answers, his voice barely above a whisper.
You laugh lightheartedly and lower your voice’s volume to match his, “Jamil Viper, right? I’m Arcturus, but you can call me y/n.”
Jamil blinks rapidly while his mouth continuously opens and closes. He’s clearly caught off guard by the mention of the bright star, but you seem completely unphased by his reaction.
“You’re pranking me, right? Did Ace tell you to say that?”
“Who— ah, your friend with the heart marking? No, he didn’t.”
“Then Deuce did?”
“Not him either. This isn’t a prank, Jamil. I’m really Arcturus,” you state firmly.
The man narrows his eyes suspiciously at you, “prove it.”
“Hm… let’s see,” you tap your chin as you mentally sort through the many wishes Jamil has made as a child. “Ah! When you were 10 years-old, you wished for a pet tyrannosaurus rex after watching the Jurassic Park movies.”
“That’s a lucky guess.”
“Fine. Wouldn’t it be better if you made a wish now and I grant it? You can’t tell me I just got lucky then.”
“Are you tricking me into making a wish? Are you sure you’re not just a sneaky little genie?” Jamil asks playfully.
“I can see why you’d think that I’m a genie, but as you can see: there’s no magic lamps involved here,” you state with a bright smile, one that doesn’t do justice to how brightly you shine in the sky. “And I wouldn’t trick you like they would either. Just tell me your wishes as they come to your heart, and I’ll make them come true. That’s what I’ve always done, right?”
Jamil wasn’t expecting for you to answer so genuinely. They were just rhetorical questions he asked without thinking, but he could tell that you were being truthful.
Still, a big part of him is suspicious.
In what world would a star become a human? And out of all the things they could do, why would they come and find him?
The other, smaller part of him wants to believe you. So he plays along and decides to humor you.
“Just like that?” Jamil asks with an eyebrow cocked up apprehensively.
“Well, you know, there are rules. But yes: just like that.”
“Okay… and what are the rules?”
“They’re exactly what you’d think they’d be: nothing illegal, nothing that can harm others— which, uh, I guess ties into the first rule.”
“And how many do I get?”
“Three.”
“Ahah, so you admit that you’re a genie.”
“Not a genie,” you giggle before tapping the tip of Jamil’s nose gently. “So, what would you like to wish for first?”
“That’s a very important decision, Arct—”
“Y/n,” you quickly interrupt the man to correct him.
“Y/n,” Jamil articulates with a raise of his eyebrows and a nod, “you’ll have to give me some time to think. I’m not even sure what I want to wish for yet.”
“Boo!” you whine, leaning over the long desk with your arms stretched out in front of you. “Well, if I have to wait then it shouldn’t be in the middle of a boring history lecture.”
As if on cue, the screen of Jamil’s phone lights up to indicate that he has a missed notification. He narrows his eyes at you one last time before unlocking his phone.
“Huh,” Jamil makes a sound that's mixed with surprise and confusion when he reads a new email on his phone. “My professor has never canceled class before. Did you… did you do this?”
You shrug when Jamil points his phone at you accusingly. But you’re pleased to see that he seems to believe you a bit more now.
There’s loud shuffling noises coming from all around you as students busy themselves by cheering for their canceled lecture and packing up their untouched laptops.
“So?” you ask, an expectant look on your face.
Jamil bites on his lower lip and taps the cap of a pen on the desk rhythmically. He stares off into space, seemingly deep in thought, and you wait patiently for him to sort through his predictably long lists of possibilities.
“Would it…” you start, poking at Jamil’s forearm to make him look at you. “Would it help if I mention that you can still make wishes even after the three?”
“What do you mean?” Jamil tilts his head, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“I mean, I only came down here because hanging out in the sky all night long is so boring. You try doing it for a countless amount of centuries, then trust me — you’ll understand,” you wave your hands dismissively. “Anyways, that’s besides the point. The point is: you had unlimited wishes when you were a child, and you’ll still have unlimited wishes after I finish granting the three here.”
Jamil nods in understanding before abruptly standing up and slinging a backpack strap over his shoulder, “you should’ve led with that, y/n.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not used to speaking to humans directly,” you say before your eyes shift between Jamil’s face and the hand he’s holding out towards you. “What?”
“I think I might know what my first wish is, so come on,” Jamil inches his hand closer to you, a signal for you to place yours in his.
You comply, allowing the man to pull you out of the empty classroom and towards an unknown location.
It’s a sunny day, a perfect day for an afternoon stroll. And despite it being the middle of the fall semester, there’s more than a handful of students frolicking in the spacious college yard instead of studying.
The sight of them being so happy and carefree brings a smile to your face. It’s rare for you to see humans during the day time — and even more rare for you to see them not stressed out by something when you do get the chance.
Really, most of the time the bright sun rays block the sight of earth from you. It restricts you to only observing them during the nighttime, when most of the population is already asleep.
Soon, the large crowds of students become much more sparse until only a few of them are left hanging around.
“Um, Jamil? Where are we going exactly?” you chime up.
It takes a few more minutes of walking before Jamil finally stops, and your shoulder accidentally bumps into his back from your lack of attention.
“Here,” Jamil turns around to face you, his ears completely blocking out your murmured apology.
You lean over to the side to peek behind Jamil only to straighten up and raise an eyebrow at the man a second after, “and what are we doing standing by this long stretch of pavement?”
“We’re here for my first wish: I wish to learn how to roller skate.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“That’s… a very tame wish,” you state plainly.
You take Jamil’s backpack off his shoulder before squatting down and unzipping it. Your hand digs into the textbook filled space and pulls out a pair of roller skates.
Jamil’s eyes practically bulge out in shock when he sees them, because there’s no way something like that could have fit inside his small backpack.
“But as you wish,” you grin as you hold the roller skates up towards Jamil.
“Whoa, how’d you do that?” Jamil gasps as he takes them from you.
“Do you believe me now?” you counter, crossing your arms and watching as Jamil hurries to replace his tennis shoes.
“I’m ninety-nine percent convinced. Just depends on how quickly I learn how to roller skate now.”
“You know that I’m not a miracle worker, right?” you stand up quickly, your arms reaching out just in time to catch Jamil as he slips forward.
When the man turns his head, your faces are so close to one-another that the tips of your noses touch.
“S—sorry. Tha—thank you,” Jamil manages to stammer out, his ears immediately turning a bright shade of red from embarrassment as he straightens up.
You’re undeterred from the close proximity, human feelings of embarrassment or shyness not a part of your vocabulary. So you giggle and merely find Jamil’s reaction dramatic and adorable.
“Don’t be so jumpy. How am I supposed to teach you if you don’t let me get close enough to do so?” you stand behind Jamil’s wobbly frame, your hands placed on either side of his waist to steady him.
“Well, I thought you’d snap your fingers and I’d just magically know,” Jamil mumbles.
“I could, but that’s no fun, Jamil. And I came here to have fun.”
“I thought you came here to grant my wishes.”
“Oh, that too,” you nod, though the carefree tone of your voice does nothing to convince Jamil of your intentions. “Now, we’ll start off by teaching you the correct posture. The most important thing here is balance, so I’ll have to let you go now.”
“Perfect,” Jamil’s body stiffens once he feels your warmth leave his body.
The chilly autumn air does nothing to help him from missing your earlier proximity. But the more you try to coach him through the basics of roller skating, the warmer his body gets.
To anyone on the outside looking in, it may seem that Jamil is a natural at the sport. But, as fast a learner Jamil is regularly, there is no way he’s able to pick up on things as quickly as he did today.
Not to mention, his friends have already tried multiple times to teach him how to roller skate before with minimal success.
Who would have thought all-rounder Jamil Viper actually had a weakness?
Now it feels as if Jamil is moving off of muscle memory. The things that you instruct him to do sounds unfamiliar to his ears, but his body follows everything to a T.
You watch like a proud parent while Jamil glides up and down the long walk of pavement as if he’s been doing it his entire life. The sound of his gleeful laughter ringing through the air makes you smile brightly in response.
“Should we try doing some tricks now?” you ask as Jamil passes by you again.
At your question, Jamil presses down hard on his right toe to break and gives you a panicked look, “are you serious?”
“I’m serious and I haven’t failed you yet,” you place your hands on your hips, the determined look on your face telling Jamil that he couldn’t back down now.
“If you can actually teach me how to do tricks by the end of the day, then I’ll believe you.”
“Oh, done deal!” you clap in excitement, “let’s get started then!”
❥
“Remind me again why we’re here, Jamil?” you ask as you gaze up at the intricate entrance to the Centre Pompidou.
“I’m studying architecture. I wanted to see all the famous monuments of France for my studies since my classmate Rook wouldn’t stop talking about it,” Jamil replies, his hands busy taking pictures of the complex building with his phone.
“And here I thought you were just making any excuse to miss your classes.”
“Would you judge me if I say that’s kind of true?”
“No, I wouldn’t,” you shake your head before holding your hands out. “Here: do you want me to take a picture for you?”
“Oh, sure. Thank you,” Jamil hands you his phone before jogging a few feet forward and facing you.
With a few clicks of the Camera app, you complete the routine that’s been established for the past few days since you’ve arrived in Paris, France.
Jamil’s second wish was quickly made the day after you taught him how to roller skate. After spending the night thinking about all the things he never got the chance to do, he went out to find you again.
It wasn’t hard for him to, you’d already told him that you’d be hanging around one of the many coffee shops surrounding the college campus.
“Oh, thank goodness you found me. I was starting to get bored,” you sigh in relief when you look up from your laptop to find Jamil sliding into the seat across from yours.
He doesn’t bother to ask where your laptop came from, or how you have the money to pay for the mocha latte in your hands. At this point, he believes that you’re capable of more things than he could possibly ever understand.
“Are you okay? Is there something on my face?” you ask when Jamil doesn’t say anything.
You gently pat your cheeks in search of anything that feels out of place, assuming that’s why Jamil is staring at you wordlessly.
“What? Oh. No. Sorry, no. You, uh, you— you look great,” Jamil shakes his head quickly before he presses his lips into a thin line and averts his eyes down to the coffee table. “I didn’t mean to stare.”
You know that Jamil is usually not shy, usually not someone who stammers unless he’s nervous — it’s a rare occurrence.
So, you think perhaps he finds you intimidating: a celestial body who could probably strike him down if he’s not being too careful with himself.
It could explain why he treats you like one of his friends one minute but becomes flustered the next.
“You know that I’m not going to strike you down with lightning, right?” you lean forward with your arms crossed on the table and your lips curved up into an amused smile.
“L—lightning?” Jamil asks nervously as he scratches the nape of his neck. “Would you be able to? Strike me with lightning, I mean.”
“My name isn’t ‘Malleus’, but yes: I could if I really wanted to,” you shrug nonchalantly. A horrified look appears on Jamil’s face, and you would have found it comical if he didn’t look exactly like a deer in headlights. “But you haven’t done anything to warrant that, so don’t be so scared.”
“I’m not scared. It’s just that you’re… kind of intimidating,” Jamil huffs.
“Are you intimidated because I’m not actually human, or because your charmingly good looks don’t have any affect on me?”
“Um…” Jamil looks at you in the same way a guilty child would look at their parents during a scolding: with wide puppy dog eyes and lips jutting out into a pout. “The first one?”
“You mean the second one,” you correct the man confidently. “It’s not the first option because you still don’t believe me yet, but you will soon.
“Speaking of which,” you clear your throat before leaning in closer and lowering your voice, “do you have any ideas for your second wish?”
“Oh. Actually, y—yeah, I do,” Jamil says slowly, almost hesitantly.
“You don’t sound very confident about that.”
“Well, it’s a very big wish. I, uh… I wish I could go to France.”
“Now that’s the kind of wish I’ve been waiting for,” you nod in approval before taking your last sip of coffee and firmly placing the cup down. “Let’s go.”
“What, now?” Jamil emphasizes the last word with the raise of his eyebrows. “Y/n, you’re always in a rush, aren’t you?”
“I’m sorry, I’m just used to getting these wishes done right away. So… not right now?”
“Oh, no, we can go today. I’d just need to pack some stuff first.”
“Ah, that’s right,” your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ when you realize you’ve been rushing to get moving without thinking first. “Yes, go pack whatever you need and come find me again when you’re ready to go.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later?” Jamil is already up from his chair before he could finish the question.
The excitement he exudes is contagious and you couldn’t hold back the giggle bubbling up in your chest.
“You know where to find me,” you wave the man off, gesturing for him to leave the coffee shop quickly.
Less than a week has passed since Jamil made the wish that has you turning into a tourist, but it feels like you’ve spent at least a month together.
You spend every day in the same fashion as you did today: head off to a famous French monument that was in a far too long list Rook provided Jamil, he takes who knows how many pictures for future references, and then you offer to take his pictures.
You have the steadiest hands out of anyone you know — which, to be fair, isn’t that many humans in the first place — yet those pictures always turn out somewhat blurry.
Today’s pictures at the Centre Pompidou is no exception to this.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I bother anymore. You should just delete those,” you sigh, your shoulders drooping in defeat as you watch Jamil swipe through his camera roll.
Despite you telling him that every single time, Jamil always keeps the pictures that you take of him.
Then, when you aren’t looking, when you’re busy taking in the beautiful sights around you, Jamil sneaks in a few pictures of you.
He’s not sure what will happen to them once you’re gone. Would they stay on his phone and you simply become a J. Doe to the rest of the world? Or would they disappear forever as if you were never there to begin with?
He bets if he asked you nicely, you’d allow him to keep those memories with him.
“So, shall we go inside?” you ask as you shove your hands into the pockets of your wool overcoat.
Your question interrupts Jamil’s brief thoughts, who merely blinks before he turns his attention to you, “I’m sorry, what?”
“Do you want to go inside?” you reword and repeat your question.
“Oh. Yeah, let’s go,” Jamil nods and holds a hand out towards you.
You hesitate for only a moment before you take a hand out of your pocket and place it in his. Your skin feels cold against Jamil’s, though it’s uncertain if it’s because of the weather or something else.
Still, in an attempt to keep you warm, Jamil intertwines his fingers with yours and sticks your hands into his kangaroo pocket.
How did Jamil get from jumpy and intimidated to becoming comfortable enough to hold your hands in a matter of a week? Even he wouldn’t be able to give you an answer for that.
Perhaps his courage is influenced by the atmosphere that the city of love provides; it’s where couples in love roam freely, they hold hands and sneak in kisses whenever they can.
Jamil tells himself that the two of you are merely blending in with the crowd — that there’s no way he has a crush on you.
But as he watches you studying the artwork displayed neatly along cream-colored walls, he finds that he’d prefer to look at you instead of the exhibitions.
Snap out of it, Jamil Viper.
As if you could read his thoughts, you defy him, appearing in front of the man like an unexpected dream. Like always, there’s a beautifully wide smile on your face that makes Jamil’s heart skip a beat just at the sight of it.
“Are you okay? You’re all spaced out today.”
“What? No, I’m not,” Jamil huffs before he steps aside to let a group of tourists walk past.
“No, you’re not okay or no, you’re not spacing out?”
“No, I’m not spacing out. I was just deep in thought— yeah, deep in thoughts of what this painting could possibly mean,” Jamil gestures towards a medium-sized canvas to his right without really looking at it.
“That’s a painting of the Mona Lisa holding a chubby ginger cat. I’m not really sure that there’s any special meaning to it,” you chuckle briefly before you reach out to gently tug at the sleeve of Jamil’s hoodie. “Come on, mister, let’s go.”
“Where are we going, exactly?” Jamil asks as he uncrosses his arms and allows you to drag him past the long and heavily populated hallways of the art gallery.
“I figured you could use a change of pace from all the art museums and history— not that there’s anything wrong with any of those places. But I planned a little surprise for you.”
“You did?” Jamil’s eyebrows quirk up in surprise.
“Okay, I admit the idea just popped into my head,” you glare playfully at the man. “But I’m not the one trying to find a deeper meaning to a cat painting.”
Jamil doesn’t say anything in response, doesn’t try to tell you that he finds you even more mesmerizing than all the artwork in the building combined — and that he’d been staring at you this entire time.
He just lets out a short laugh and nods in agreement.
You stop in front of an emergency exit door before turning around to face Jamil. The serious look on your face is a rare sight to see and the man knows that he should take your next words seriously.
“Don’t freak out when I open this door,” you say slowly, making sure to enunciate every word.
Jamil nods again before his eyes trail up to the bright exit sign above the door, “are we… going to trigger the fire alarm for fun?”
“Definitely not. I’m sure that actually goes against both of my rules,” you take a few steps backwards until your back is pressed against the push pad of the exit device.
Jamil braces himself for bright flashing lights and loud alarms when you push the door open, but he’s met with neither of those things.
Instead, he sees beautiful shades of orange on the other side of the door. There’s a generously wide and long stretch of grass lined with various types of trees, and both locals and tourists lounging about the large space.
“Don’t worry, we’re here for a picnic,” you nod your head towards the scene, waiting for Jamil to walk past the threshold of the door to follow him out.
Jamil glances back when the door softly shuts behind you, the surprise evident on his face when he finds that it’s been replaced by a black Peugeot 208.
“Sometimes I forget that you’re actually a magical being who can do stuff like that.”
“And you don’t seem as shocked as you should be for a human being,” you shoot back with a grin. “Not that I’m complaining. I’d much prefer that to you screaming in fear.”
Jamil looks unamused at your last sentence. He knows exactly what you are referring to: the first time he experienced the unexplainable things that you are capable of.
That experience was similar to what you’d done just now, and it was what solidified his belief in you.
“Okay, but you didn’t warn me that opening the door to a washroom was going to lead me to the top of the Eiffel Tower. This is a lot more acceptable.”
“Well, I figured we could make the journey a lot easier and faster by doing that,” you shrug, the contents of the picnic basket in your hands making soft shuffling noises as you move. “Now, let’s go find an open space to sit.”
You follow closely behind Jamil as he maneuvers around small clusters of chatty folks, most of which doesn't hear his muttered “excuse me.”
You follow him until you reach nearly the end of the grassy terrain where there is a decent amount of available space for you to lay a blanket on top.
“Where are we anyways?” Jamil asks once you’re situated on top of the thick blanket protecting your clothes from the damp grass.
“The Luxembourg Gardens. I overheard someone saying that it’s the perfect spot for a picnic, and figured you could use the change in scenery.”
Jamil has to admit that you’re right about that.
The much needed fresh air aside, Jamil finds that he surprisingly enjoys seeing all the beauty that nature has to offer as much as he enjoys studying the intricate ways buildings can be made.
Or, at least, he used to enjoy it.
That was before he decided to take on as many classes as he could in a single semester when he started college. All his time is spent on studying and making sure he got all his assignments done on time.
Somewhere along the way, he even managed to secure an internship that took up even more of his time and attention.
What little free time he earned would be spent on making sure his friends knew that he was still a functioning member of society. Even then, Jamil would spend the entire time thinking about both the assignments he’s already completed and the ones he left for later.
Ace would say that he’s burned out and needs to step foot outside of the college grounds more often.
Now he’s really taken that advice to heart, because how much farther away from college could he get than Paris, France?
“Clear your head and eat a carrot, Jamil,” you interrupt the man’s thoughts by waving a baby carrot in front of his face.
“Veggies,” Jamil groans before a look of utter disgust overtakes his features.
“What?” you ask in the most innocent tone you could muster up and bring the carrot closer to Jamil’s face.
“Please, I’ll literally eat anything else,” Jamil sticks his tongue out in a mock gagging motion as he leans further away from your hand.
“You mean you’ll eat anything that’s not fruits or vegetables, right? That’s bad, you know,” you click your tongue in disapproval before taking a small bite of the baby carrot. “Maybe you should use your last wish to make all of it taste like pasta.”
“Can you do that?”
“I could but I won’t.”
“Why not?!”
“Because I will not be the person responsible for you getting tired of eating pasta. You’ll hate me forever and I don’t want that.”
“Well, I’ll hate you anyways if there’s no pasta in that basket,” Jamil says jokingly, his teasing causing you to throw the baby carrot towards his chest in retaliation. “Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
You narrow your eyes at the man before you stick a hand inside the picnic basket and pull out a plastic container filled with chicken alfredo. Jamil lets out a loud cheer at the sight and smell of the food, his abrupt holler earning him a few glances from nearby visitors.
“You get so excited about food, Jamil. I remember you used to wish for sushi and ramen all the time as a child,” you giggle, watching with sparkling eyes as Jamil takes the container from your hands and hurriedly opens it.
“Well, the purpose of life is to eat and enjoy as much food as you can, you know?”
“Oh, is it now?”
“It sure as heck is the purpose of mine,” Jamil nods firmly.
You hum in response and curl up into a loose ball with your arms hugging your legs and chin resting on top of your knees. Your eyes flutter shut just as a gentle breeze begins to blow.
The sun is setting behind Jamil’s hunched over figure, the warm sunlight illuminating your figure and making you appear nearly ethereal in Jamil’s eyes.
You’re so beautiful.
Jamil averts his eyes just as quickly as the thought enters his mind; and as he shoves forkfuls of pasta into his mouth, he tries hard to ignore the warm feeling igniting inside his chest.
❥
“This is a dream, isn’t it?”
“What?” you ask, turning your head to look at Jamil who is laying towards the opposite direction of you but with his head resting right by yours.
“I keep thinking that this entire trip — and you — are all just part of a really long dream,” Jamil sighs before he also turns his head towards you.
“Would you like me to pinch you? Isn’t that what people do when they think they’re dreaming?”
Jamil laughs at your questions, his warm breath fanning across your face and his eyes curving into rainbows. He knows that you’re genuinely asking, but he still finds you too innocent and adorable for your own good.
“No, I think I’d like to stay inside this dream. But thank you for the offer.”
“You’re welcome.”
Comfortable silence blankets over the two of you as you resume your previous activities of stargazing. At least, an attempt is made because there aren't as many stars in the Paris night sky as you’d like there to be.
Regardless of that, Jamil tries to savor every moment of relaxation he’s been awarded since you’ve come into his life.
He can’t remember the last time he’s been able to take a step back to just breathe like this.
His normal life has no time for hobbies — there isn’t any time to spare to learn how to ice skate, roller skate, snowboard, or any other fun activities his friends like to do.
This is the first time he’s been able to travel out of the country, for vacation no less, and he isn’t even stressed out about the schoolwork he’s probably missing out on right now.
It feels like a dream: being able to lay on the grass of the Luxembourg Gardens with no worries and with you by his side.
“I wish that this dream would last forever,” Jamil whispers, his voice barely audible but you’re close enough that you can still hear him. “Can you make that happen?”
“You’ll have to be more specific, Jamil.”
“It’s just that… since you came along, I feel like I can finally breathe again. This is the most relaxed and carefree I’ve felt in a very long time. I didn’t even realize how stressed out I was before, and—and I don’t want to go back. ”
You had an inkling that Jamil may have gotten attached to you, may have gotten used to having your constant presence by his side. That’s why he feels so comfortable around you now — at least, enough to make jokes and tease you when he could.
It never occurred to you that he may want to keep you by his side when you’re not able to do so. Not until now.
“I wish…”
You hold your breath as you wait for Jamil to continue his sentence. You know that once he makes his third and final wish, you’ll immediately and completely disappear from his life.
Perhaps, it is for the better that he’ll have no recollection of you besides as a star in the sky.
“I wish I could continue to feel this way. I wish, among all the stress and madness, I’ll also have the time to be free and enjoy life,” Jamil laughs at himself, finding himself silly for saying the words out loud. He turns to you with a soft smile on his face, “can you make that happen? It’s a pretty tall order.”
You nod slowly, refusing to look at the man as you mumble, “as you wish.”
With those words, your body begins to emit a gentle white glow.
At first, Jamil thinks it’s a reaction of you granting his wish. But as your body becomes more and more transparent, the panic settles more and more inside his heart.
“Y/n?” Jamil calls out, his voice shaky as he reaches out to cup your cheek. His hand passes through your disappearing body, causing him to panic even more and the volume of his voice rising as he calls out for you again. “Y/n!”
A final burst of bright white light makes Jamil shut his eyes tightly and shield them with his hands. Just as quickly as the light came, he finds himself surrounded by darkness and quiet once again.
When Jamil finally opens his eyes, he finds himself lying down in the backseat of Ace’s car. He groans, carefully getting up without moving Lilia’s sleeping figure too much.
He rests his friend’s head on his shoulder after he sits up and looks out the car window, “where are we?”
“Oh, you’re up?” Ace replies as he glances up at the rear-view mirror to look at Jamil’s dark silhouette.
“Yeah, I had the strangest dream: I was in Paris.”
“You must have been hanging out with some mimes because you were laughing a lot in your sleep.”
“Was I?” Jamil raises an eyebrow skeptically. “I can’t even remember what the dream was about anymore. All I remember is standing on top of the Eiffel Tower.”
“Well, don’t go back to sleep because we’re about half an hour away from the dorm now.”
“Sure,” Jamil adjusts his position so he can prop his elbow and chin up on an arm rest.
He watches as they drive past a handful of traffic lights and countless street lights, a strange feeling of being out of place poking at him.
But he pushes the feeling away for the remainder of the drive back to the dorms. He continues to push it away when he sinks into his dorm bed in exhaustion 30 minutes later and dreams of seeing Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower.
The next morning, Jamil wakes up to about a dozen emails that all include some sort of revision to the class syllabi.
“What in the world?” Jamil asks, his voice groggy from sleep and his eyes blinking against the bright light of his phone screen.
Once his eyes have adjusted, Jamil scrolls through the emails before logging into every student portal available to him. He double, triple, and quadruple-checks every platform to make sure his professors weren’t simply playing a trick on him.
“Good morning, Jamil!” a familiar voice gleefully calls out.
Light pours into the room as the door is opened by none other than a smiling Ace. His cheerful demeanor further confirms that Jamil wasn’t simply imagining the emails.
“Did you hear the good news yet?” Ace ignores the protests of Jamil’s roommate as he prances into the room and plops down on the edge of his friend’s bed. He doesn’t wait for Jamil to answer before he continues talking, “now we have all this free time outside of getting our major projects done. What are we gonna do with ourselves?”
Despite still being half-asleep, Jamil can’t deny that he’s also filled with delight at the unexpected news. His mind is already going through all the things he’s been holding off on doing — but he can’t seem to wave off a major sense of déjà vu as he does so.
“Oh, wait. How about we finally teach you how to roller skate?” Ace pats Jamil’s shoulder to catch his attention.
“No offense, Ace, but you’re way too energetic in the morning,” Jamil groans and pulls his blanket up to his chin. He squints at Ace’s unwavering grin for a few silent seconds before he finally sighs and rolls his eyes. “Okay, I’m in.”
“That’s the spirit! I’ll let the guys know,” Ace silently cheers, saving Jamil’s roommate from the unwelcomed noise before he saunters out just as quickly as he came in.
On a normal day, even if Jamil said that he was in, he still wouldn’t have enough free time to actually learn anything besides the basics — if that.
So it’s a nice change of pace when, less than an hour later, he meets his friends besides the same stretch of pavement as where you granted him his first wish.
He doesn’t remember those events in detail, only as fleeting events of a strange dream, and dismisses his sense of déjà vu as having been at this spot many times before.
“You still remember the basics, right?” his friend Kalim asks as he holds his arms out towards Jamil.
Jamil gratefully grabs onto the long limbs for support as he slowly gets up, his legs wobbling while he tries to balance himself on the roller skates.
“Have you been practicing without us?” Lilia asks with his gaze fixed on Jamil’s legs.
It’s a harmless question that’s only asked because Jamil’s not very big on balance. No, usually he and Kalim would have to keep a close eye on their friend to make sure his legs aren’t floundering like fish on dry land.
But today, Jamil seems stable on his own, and they step back and watch in surprise as Jamil glides freely without them.
“Oh, Ace’s not going to believe this,” Lilia laughs before dragging Jamil’s backpack to his side and rummaging through the pockets for his phone.
Lilia unlocks the phone with every intent to take a video of Jamil acing the Basics of Roller Skating 101. But a recent picture displayed on the lower left hand corner of the Camera app catches his attention.
“Jamil, do you have a partner? They’re cute,” Lilia comments after he’s clicked on the display and enlarges the photograph. “I mean, thanks a lot for not telling us though.”
“What? Where? Who?” Kalim quickly appears behind Lilia to peer over the shorter man’s shoulder.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. When do I have the time for a partner?” Jamil furrows his eyebrows in confusion as he makes his way over to his huddled up friends.
Kalim and Lilia exchange looks of disbelief before Lilia holds the phone out so Jamil could look at what’s displayed on the screen.
His breath hitches when he sees a picture of you.
They’re the same photographs that you didn’t know he’d taken of you. They’re proof that you were real — and you existed in this world briefly although Jamil has no recollection of who you are.
And if you’d known those pictures existed, they’d have been erased from Jamil’s memory just like everything else had been.
“I… I have no idea who this is,” Jamil says unconvincingly as he takes his phone away from Lilia.
He can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from the still of your face. The bright smile you’ve always graced him with is permanently captured within a photograph of a J. Doe.
Jamil can’t remember meeting someone with your face. He certainly doesn’t remember your name or why he would have your picture on his phone.
But the longer he stares at the pictures, the farther the warmth igniting in his chest spreads throughout his body.
A single, short thought enters his mind.
Thank you.
And although he doesn’t know why he thought that, he has the sneaking suspicion it has something to do with the person in the photographs.
Hello, I’m alive and I’m still writing — kind of. 🥹
I’ve had two WIP fics for Silver and Malleus with the plots all ready to go in my mind. But y’know what, my Kryptonite is that I put way too much detail and context in (which may be a good thing but I need to reel it back omg). So my motivation runs out bc why are these fics not even close to done yet? 😭
Well, if anyone is interested, here’s a sneak peek of what’s in the Silver fic. Just some casual cockblocking from my sunshine boi. :^)
Reblog to have something lgbt happen to you this summer
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