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pastelpearlao3 · 2 years ago

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Aquamarine 01

Story Masterlist

Minors DNI

Neuvillette & You/Reader (they/them, afab, feminine)

WC: 2k

A/N: this story will be mostly fluff with a dash of angst (and a pinch of smut further down the line-), so look out for that!

01: Sunrise

It’s a quarter to five and you couldn’t fall back asleep if you tried.

Today was a big day: you were going to the courthouse for an interview. And not just any interview. No, you were going to apply for a job as the Chief Justice’s assistant — a rare opportunity, according to the gossip circulating around Fontaine as of late.

The Chief Justice was known as an aloof and stern man, straight-laced in and out of the courtroom. His rulings were final. His perception knew little bounds. His stone-cold expression, calculating gaze, and commanding presence demanded respect of the highest degree no matter the time or place. He was rarely seen in public, let alone among other Fontainians except for the darling melusines that accompanied him outside of office hours. All of this you had heard whispered amongst Fontaine folk, and yet, you still weren’t able to put a face to the name of such a highly respected (and feared-) man after weeks of living here in Fontaine.

Maybe, hopefully, wishfully, today would be that day. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but you’d like to think that you were among the clever kind.

(—You just hoped that you wouldn’t fumble over your words if the chance arose.)

Plus, there was no harm in being curious about your potential future employer, right? You’d have to know a thing or two about him to carry out your job properly. And boy did you want to know. In fact, you had an inkling suspicion that the mysterious man in question was linked to an ongoing game you had with your best friend.

“Come to Fontaine, you’d love the view,” he had hummed ages ago over the phone, his mischievous grin heard over the line.

You’d been here for a month and a half and had yet to find this so-called ‘view’ he spoke of, but your gut feeling told you that the path you were going to take later that morning would lead you right to the million dollar view in question. Another factor that kept you up last night.

You rolled out of bed with a sigh, tossing your soft blankets aside and grabbing the lone pillow that you managed to kick to the bottom of your mattress in the middle of the night. You smoothed out the satin pillowcase and took off your bonnet before tiptoeing over to your vanity on the other side of the room, highly aware of the Fontainian you lived in close quarters with. Your cautious approach was for not, however — because the moment you accidentally stepped on a forgotten creak in the floorboards, your bedroom door was thrown open with a familiar vengeance.

You jumped five feet in alarm all the same.

“Mother f- Rizzley!” you hissed, glaring at the man casually leaning against your doorframe.

“Rise and shine, beautiful,” he smirked, his biceps flexing under his black t-shirt when he crossed his arms over his chest. You could tell that he just got done with his workout routine that he did during ungodly hours of the night. His black and gray tufts of hair stuck to his dewy forehead as he pretended to look down at a watch on his bare wrist. “Although you’re three hours ahead of schedule.”

“Shut up mister ‘I do chin-ups at three am like a madman’.” Why were you friends with him again? You rolled your eyes, regarding him with a halfhearted scowl while carefully combing your fingers through your curls and smoothing down your edges. Thankfully your bonnet stayed on through the night; you didn’t have to do much to get your hair silky soft and moisturized.

Wriothesley shrugged with that self-satisfied smirk still on his face, his towel holding onto his broad shoulders for dear life. “Appearances matter.” Ah, such enlightenment from the Duke of Meropide himself.

“So do first impressions,” you pointed out, finishing up with styling your hair before venturing over to your closet.

Wriothesley chuckled. “Touche.” You could feel his eyes on you while you pulled out your ironed blouse and dress pants. “You’re sure you don’t need me to go with you?”

“Yeah,” you murmured absentmindedly, flicking a piece of lint off your shirt. You were debating if you should wear perfume or not, considering the pros and cons of interview etiquette that would contribute to whether you got the position or not. “I know my way around Fontaine now, Rizzley.”

“That’s what you said last time when you ended up halfway to Liyue.”

“That is so not what happened.”

You glanced over your shoulder at him when he remained eerily silent. “I’ll be fine!” you insisted, glowering at his doubtful expression and raised eyebrow.

Wriothesley relented, chuckling once more before uncrossing his arms. “We’re meeting up at Café Lucerne after, if you remember how to get there, that is.”

“Get out before I graffiti your face,” you grumbled, wielding your eyeliner in a threatening manner until he walked out of your room with a laugh. It was too early in the morning for his shenanigans. Looking back down at the two perfume bottles on your vanity, the mixture of excitement and apprehension churning in your stomach had you sighing loudly at such a mundane dilemma.

“Ugh.”

You picked up a random bottle with your eyes closed and called it a day, Archons know if the fragrance will work out in your favor.

[ 🖤🖤🖤 ]

You thought that you had done well; you had a thoughtful answer for every question asked, your resume was freshly printed and easy to read, your choice of attire made you fit right in with the rest of the courthouse, and yet… And yet—

“This position isn’t for you.” The woman told you frankly, her face pinched up in an expression between annoyance and disgust, holding your resume in her bright green manicured hands as if it contained some disease. “Your hair. And your—” her lingering gaze on your face — your entire body made you want to curl up into a ball and die. “What I’m saying is, you just don’t fit—”

Three sharp knocks on the door cut her off and you had never felt as grateful as you did now for whoever interrupted the woman sitting across from you before she could continue to tell you what so many other interviewers had said before. Your hair was unkempt. (Natural.) Your clothes violated their dress code. (Thick thighs didn’t save lives in Teyvat, apparently.) Your image clashed with their company image. (You couldn’t go back in time and be born as a different race, nor would you ever want to for that matter.)

All of those thoughts were forgotten when he stepped through the door.

“Apologies for the intrusion,” his voice was deep and smooth as he crossed the threshold with the grace of a god, entering the room so swiftly that all you could do was stare at him with a closed mouth and wide eyes.

The first thing you noticed was his elegant visage, an oval shaped face that cut into a sharp jawline. A perk nose and fox-like eyes that had you frozen in place, caught up in their purplish depths. His waist-length hair fell down in silver ripples down his back, tinted with an undertone of sky blue. He stood tall in the doorway, all broad shoulders draped in frills and silks, adorn with gold and vibrant blue hues, and long legs that were tucked into thigh high boots. If you were standing, your knees would have given out on you.

—And that was the moment you knew. This man standing in front of you was the Chief Justice; he was the view, and a million dollars had nothing on what you were seeing in front of you.

His lilac eyes drifted over to you, catching you hook, line, and sinker with such a calculating and steady gaze before he looked at the woman across from you. “Mademoiselle Roux.”

“Monsieur Neuvillette-”

He didn’t let her finish. “I thought that Madame Monet would be conducting this interview today.” There was no inquiry to his tone. No waver in his gaze. It was a statement that clearly said ‘you’re where you shouldn’t be’ to the Lady Roux in question.

“She had to accompany Monsieur Bernard to a meeting with our partners from Inazuma.” Something about the microscopic narrowing of Neuvillette’s eyes told you that there was no such meeting and there was no reason for Monet to not be in this woman’s place. “So I’m covering for her.”

Mademoiselle this, monsieur that… a few weeks in Fontaine had not helped you get used to how common these phrases would be in your life from now on — if you found a job in this cold Northern city, that is.

“Let me see their resume.”

“But monsieur-”

Neuvillette had swiftly taken the slightly crumpled piece of paper out of her manicured claws and into his gloved hand. His lilac irises ran over the contents at a brisk pace, lingering somewhere toward the bottom of the page. The sharp look he shot her afterward made you want to cower at the coldness in his gaze despite it not being directed at you. “If I had known that you would be standing in Madame Monet’s place, I would have conducted this interview myself.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Roux stammered out some reply that didn’t get past the ringing in your ears while you stared at the far wall and tried to hold onto your composure. Thirty two interviews. 32. Not one had landed you a job that you desperately needed. You were no freeloader; you wouldn’t allow yourself to mooch off of Wriothesley forever despite how he’d assure you that you could be his platonic housewife for the rest of your lives for all he cared.

The words passed around you flew over your head and a million thoughts barreled through your mind at the speed of light until someone called your name.

You looked up and met lilac eyes, the unwavering eye contact causing an emotion that you couldn’t describe to well up in your aching chest. Something foreign yet familiar. Old and new. The sensation akin to deja vu yet you’ve never met the owner of those eyes before in your entire life.

Neuvillette tilted his head toward the door, gesturing for you to follow him with a polite wave of his hand. It took you a moment to stand up on your stiff legs and it took you another to realize that Roux was nowhere to be seen. You took a shaky breath and steel your resolve before following the Chief Justice out of the room.

The hallway was quiet save for a few employees dipping in and out of the other rooms along the hall. All you could hear was your deep breaths, racing heart, and the clinks of Neuvillette’s shoes on the hardwood floors, polished so well that you could make out your reflection walking alongside his taller frame. You walked in silence with bated breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“The courthouse opens to employees at 6:30.” His words had your eyes lifting from how his boots glided across the floor. You stared at his back, watching his single sky blue strand of hair sway with every step. “I clock in at 7:00 am and clock out by 5:00 pm, oftentimes I stay after hours for long cases. That includes weekends.” He paused in front of the windows, sunlight streaming across his picturesque features when he turned to look at you. “Is that adequate?”

It took a moment for your brain to catch up. Your eyes widened once it did.

“Yes,” you breathed out in astonishment before remembering yourself, bowing your head to hide your grateful tears. You clutched the front of your slacks, teardrops darkening the fabric. “Thank you, monsieur.”

His lilac eyes seemed to be evaluating you when you dared to meet his gaze again. “I’ll see you at 7 sharp.”

Fontainians went on about their days in the boulevard below, their chatter catching the wind through the open windows, and as you watched the sunrise behind him with flamingo pink, peach, and lavender hues in the sky, you knew that you had nothing left to lose.

#neuvillete x reader #neuvillette x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #neuvillette fluff #genshin impact

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