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madam-angel · 12 days ago

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"Thy kingdom come, thy will be done to me, betrayer Throw your stones and stab me with your hateful stares Curtain call, the final act, so say your prayers So long to you beloved traitor."

「 ✦ LOWER ONE'S EYES ✦ 」

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾ After you lost your mother to the witch hunts as a child, you've spent the better years of your life living with a family friend and making sure that the Council of Elders won't figure out you're one as well. Unfortunately, things take a turn for the worse when a new witch hunter who is said to have an accurate killing streak arrives in the city, and his eyes are set on you.

masterlist | you are here | part 2 ->

Word count: 16410 Reading time: 1h 22m Featuring: reader, phainon, aglaea, lygus Other characters: caenis, anaxa, cyrene, cipher (mentioned), tribios (mentioned), hyacine Tags: all tags are applicable to the fic as a whole and not just the part posted, major character death, written before 3.5, alternate universe, potential ooc, slowburn (im serious phainon doesn't appear until maybe 5k words in), gn reader, no use of y/n or [name], witch hunts, not time period accurate, bittersweet ending, implied grooming, gets suggestive at some point but no nsfw content, aglaea as reader's adoptive mother, implied aglanaxa if you squint, reader has trust issues and still refuses to trust phainon 30k words in, phainon is refered to as flame reaver at the start and khaslana near the end, slight edits made, no beta please kill me already Notes: If this is your first time interacting with me or my works, please read my rules beforehand. hey remember when i said i was worried that the witch hunter!phainon x witch!reader fic was going to finish at 25k but then i thought it might end at 30k but it finished at 42k before edits. ha. hahahahahaha. its at 64k words. and since i refuse to post something that long on tumblr, i decided to split it into parts. part 2 will be posted in three days. while the fic isnt based on it, the title and chapter titles are from lower one's eyes. specifically, the english cover by trickle. give it a listen if you have the time! it slaps at it was my #1 song on spotify wrapped during 2022. youll never guess what #2 was (it was the original version). thank you all for listening to my yapping and enjoy the fic! edit: forgot to mention! if you guys want to be tagged for the second part, please let me know! i'll add you to the taglist!

I. A Last Supper With Nothing to Say

You were ten when it happened. And yet, the memory was still so clear in your head.

Night had just fallen, and your mother was cooking a hearty Dromas stew in the kitchen of your cottage. You had lost your father to the Black Tide recently, but your mother never stopped smiling. Even right now, as you heard her repeatedly say, "It's just dinner for two", she didn't look sad. If she didn't look sad, why would you be? You were always happy in your home, after all. It was just like any other night. The only difference was that your father was being happy in the Nether Realm with Thanatos now instead of with you and your mother.

It was supposed to be just like any other night. But when your mother placed the bowl of stew on your side of the table, someone knocked three times. The first round was gentle, and you had thought that your father came back from the Nether Realm and was about to tell you stories about Thanatos. The second round was still the same, but your mother told you to sit still and let her deal with the guests. And when the person knocked a third time, it was angrier, almost as if they were planning to break your door if your mother didn't open it any time soon.

When your mother opened the door, someone from the Council of Elders came in with witch hunters behind her. The woman, Caenis, had accused your mother of witchcraft. That she was the reason why your father died. She had bewitched him, and then used the Black Tide to kill him and to make her dark magic stronger.

You were confused when you heard her accusatory words. But before you could say a word, your mother had used a spell to keep your lips sealed. By the time that the spell wore off, your mother followed Caenis and her witch hunters, leaving you alone in your cottage.

You already knew what was going on. You knew what happened if someone was found guilty— even found guilty, just declared guilty—of witchcraft. It was an immediate execution. They rarely did investigations. If someone, especially someone from the Council of Elders, called someone a witch, a trial was useless. Their minds were already set that the person was guilty. They considered witchcraft as an insult to the gods, a blasphemous act that as associated with the corruption that was the Black Tide, so they would want the witch to be gone as soon as possible.

But you and your mother were witches. The two of you had spent your entire lives hiding from the Council just so no one would know the truth. Unfortunately, it was too late. It was a lost cause now.

Somehow, your mother had convinced the Council that you were innocent. That you were just a child, unaware of the sins she committed. Though they were still suspicious of you, you were spared from the death penalty. Even as a child, you knew you weren't above the law. You had heard from gossip before that even children your age were executed if they were declared witches. You had no idea how you escaped punishment. Perhaps it was your mother's last act of magic to save you from an early death.

And so, there you were, running to Kephale Plaza while crying and yelling to anyone who would listen. You grabbed for clothes or scarves, falling to your knees, hoping even just one person would listen to you. Your mother had no connections to the Black Tide; no witch was. In fact, you were all protecting everyone from the Black Tide from advancing forward. She was innocent, and the Council was about to kill her despite her lack of crime.

But only one person picked you up from the ground: Aglaea, your parents' friend and another witch in hiding. Among all of the people, she was the only one who thought of picking you up from the ground and making sure you didn't get crushed or stepped on. Even when you tried to run to your mother's pyre, she grabbed your hand and buried your face in her chest.

"Don't look, child," she whispered. "Please… don't look."

You couldn't remember if your mother screamed or cried that night. Everything was too loud. From the people all screaming, "Burn the witch!", to the sound of the fire as another member of the Council lit the dry hay up, to your blood roaring in your ears. You held on to Aglaea, the last anchor in your life, while everyone watched and cheered as the flames took your last family member away.

Aglaea told you to not look, but you still did. You still saw it. You saw how your mother looked at you with tears falling down her reddening eyes. Her hands were tied to a stake, so she was unable to run away from the fire ate away her hair, her dress, and soon her skin. But even so, you could never recall what her mouth looked like in that moment. Were they opened, screaming in agony? Were they closed, showing you one final smile? Or were they moving, telling you one last message that you couldn't recall no matter how many times you replayed that memory?

You never left that spot. Even when people finally parted. Even when all of Okhema fell asleep, and even when dawn was rising on the horizon. You remained there, kneeling in front of the ashes that was once your mother. Aglaea never left your side, either. You were thirsty, your stomach growled, but neither of you moved until lunchtime. Since you didn't sleep or eat the entire night, you had no energy to protest against Aglaea's suggestion of returning to her house.

The Black Tide took your father. And now, the people who feared it took your mother.

You were ten when it happened, but you still understood what this meant: all eyes were on you. It didn't matter that your mother convinced the Council that you were innocent. Any wrong move, and they would realize she had lied to them. And if people found out about that, you were next.

When Aglaea finished making lunch, she placed the bowl of salad. "Darling, I know it's too soon… but for your safety, you'll be living with me from now on."

Her words snapped you out of your thoughts. You lifted your head up and met her soft gaze. "Live… live with you?"

"Your… your parents and I had talked about it already. I agreed that, if the day came that you would be all alone, I'll let you live with me. It will keep you safe. No one would dare to accuse the main sponsor of the council of witchcraft, let alone the child she's taken in."

That was true. Aglaea grew up in wealth, with her money regularly funding the Council of Elders. It was how she had always managed to avoid suspicion. Even if people suspected she could be a witch, they wouldn't want to lose their main benefactor.

"I can provide you with anything you need," she continued. "I can teach you magic. I'll teach you the spell that's been protecting Okhema from the Black Tide. Do you know Anaxagoras? He's not just a professor, but also a witch, and I can have him teach you both basic education and magic. If you want, I'll teach you how to use a needle and work in my shop. What do you say?"

You took a spoonful of the salad. Aglaea's cooking was always excellent. During the times you and your family received her food, you always loved how flavorful they were. But right now, everything was bland.

"I… I don't know." Your eyes were burning, but no tears fell. "I want to stay in our house, too… Mama has a lot of flowers that I wanna take care of. And… And Dad always said he made the cottage for them after they got married, and…"

She sighed and patted your head, taking the seat next to you. "It's alright, I understand. I just don't think it's safe for a child to live alone now. You don't know how dangerous these streets can be."

She was right again. You doubted you could live off the streets, and it would just increase the chances of people thinking you were a witch.

Aglaea hummed. "How about this? You still live with me, but you can go to your cottage anytime you want, and I'll accompany you. Once you're older, you can choose to live back home if you want, or you can stay with me if you wish. Does that sound better?"

You wanted to say no. You wanted to tell her that you would rather sleep on your own bed, wake up to the smell of earth outside your own window, and talk to your own flowers as if they were your friends. But the same thought echoed in your head. Eyes were on you. Any wrong move, and it could be you at the stake. Any wrong move, and not even Aglaea could help you.

You had no choice but to nod. "Okay… Thank you, Lady Aglaea."

She smiled and patted your head again. "Of course. Anytime, child."

That was how your life went for the next few years. Aglaea took you in and raised you as if you were her own. Every morning, she treated you to a delicious breakfast. In turn, you would help her in her tailor shop whenever you could. At eleven, you did the basic tasks she asked for. Fetch me my needle. Get the tape measurer. Hold this basket. At twelve, you started mending simple things, like a broken button or a ripped seam. Occasionally, a customer would shoot you a suspicious stare. But at the sight of Aglaea's crossed arms, they would immediately purse their lips and not even glance at you anymore.

When both of you had free time, you returned to your cottage. Sometimes, you would clean it up. But most of the time, you attended to the plants and flowers in your garden. Even if you wanted to talk to them, which you rarely had the energy to do so, you had to keep your lips pursed. Talking to flowers could be a sign of witchcraft. You didn't want to risk anything.

Before the sun would set, you two would return to Aglaea's house, where she would teach you one of three things—how to cook, how to sew… and how to use your magic.

She taught you her own magic of sewing and making clothes. When there was a topic out of her scope, she would schedule a session with Professor Anaxa, a teacher and another witch in Okhema, where he would tutor you with not just magic, but also basic education. Most importantly of all, she taught you the spell that protected Okhema from the Black Tide.

"It differs from witch to witch," she said when you learned about the spell for the first time. She pinched the air, and golden threads appeared between her fingers. "For instance, my way of protecting Okhema is wrapping the city in invisible golden threads and creating a barrier. But I also have to be careful, and the spell can't be too strong. If it is, the Council and witch hunters will be able to sense it and connect the spell back to me. Overusing my magic can also tire me out quickly, and it would cause the barrier to break."

You nodded. "Lady Aglaea… if we're protecting Okhema from the Black Tide, then why does everyone think witches are behind it?"

She sighed and pulled you closer to herself, arms wrapped around your form. "That's because the Black Tide is magic. More specifically, residue of magic that witches should be regularly cleansing, or else it will corrupt. But people took it to mean that if witches no longer existed, then the Black Tide wouldn't as well."

"But if there's lesser witches, then wouldn't that mean the Black Tide would just stay corrupted?"

"It's impressive that even a child like you understood that," she said with a chuckle." Unfortunately, most people don't. And now that the Black Tide has been growing worse in some locations, it would take a lot of witches to cleanse it. So, the best we can do now is to block it from advancing, and hope that we'll have enough witches in the future to clean it."

Aglaea poked your nose, earning a small giggle from you. "I sense greatness from you," she continued. "I know you'll be more powerful than me, and your own barriers will be stronger than mine. And who knows? Perhaps in the future, you'll be able to change Okhema and gather enough powerful witches to finally clean the Black Tide."

And being the curious and nosy child that you were, you immediately asked Professor Anaxa about it when you went to his study the next day. Your response was a sigh and him closing the scroll he was reading, before gesturing you to sit on the couch across him.

"So she's burdening you with that task at such a young age," he said as he crossed his arms. "No matter. She needs a successor, after all, and you're young enough to take her place when the day comes. I don't usually send people my thoughts and prayers, but it seems like you would need it."

"You don't sound so happy to hear that, Professor Anaxa."

"That's Anaxagoras to you," he said with a frown, which only deepened when you giggled. "And yes, I'm not really fond with this tradition of ours. However, it's not my place to scare you about it. Let that woman do it for you once you're older."

"Is there a reason why only she can do it?"

"She doesn't have to do it by herself. In fact, there used to be some cities that had more than one witch cast the spell, but it's difficult to perform. If even one witch falters, then the other has to overwork or else it risks danger." His single eye turned to you, which seemed to glow in the dimness of his study. "If you ask me, I'd rather you not worry about protecting Okhema by yourself and would prefer to see a life where everyone can cleanse the Black Tide instead. But unfortunately, such a future is still out of reach. Let's just hope this placeholder task will last us long enough."

And when you told Aglaea his response, the two of them bickered again the next time they saw each other, to which you watched with amusement.

When the first day of a new month would arrive, she would always make sure that the two of you would celebrate it, even if it was just in secret. You learned that her strongest moon was the Month of Weaving, with her patron god being the God of Romance, Mnestia. It was also when her main magic of weaving would be stronger, and the garments she crafted would be more beautiful than ever.

Your own magic also grew stronger over the years. It took a while, but you soon started dedicating yourself to Georios, the God of the Earth. Originally, you wanted to dedicate yourself to Cerces, like your mother. It was said they also watched over the cultivation of plant life and nature in Amphoreus. But Aglaea and Professor Anaxa had convinced you otherwise, saying that you shouldn't burden yourself with the pursuit of knowledge if you simply wanted to take care of your garden.

"Besides," he said during one of his lessons, "you should feel honored that you're dedicating yourself to the God of the Earth. After all, they created the Dromas. What better god to serve than that?"

And you knew that, when the topic would shift to his favorite creatures, the only proper answer was to listen and nod. So, when the Month of Cultivation came, you swore yourself to the Pillar of Stone.

The entire time, Aglaea never stopped taking care of you. She was natural at being a mother. Once or twice, the word "Mom" would almost leave your lips, but you always managed to stop yourself from embarrassment. Still, it was almost like she had her own child before. But since she never mentioned anything, you just assumed she already knew what to do.

By the time you were seventeen, she was finally confident enough to let you live all by yourself and return to your family cottage. So, you returned home, this time all by yourself. Opening the door was like opening a frozen memory. You regularly cleaned it up, so no cobwebs hung from the ceiling or dust gathered on the surface. Even the dishes were clean. It was like nothing had changed. Your mother was still going to come downstairs, telling you she had a new spell ready for you to learn. Or that your father would enter through the back door, greeting you both with a hug and telling you the stories of how he helped fight off the Black Tide.

For the first year, your routine was monotonous. Wake up, tend to your garden, help Aglaea in her shop, then go home. When it was the Calamity Season, you would sometimes stay in Aglaea's house again since you had nothing to do during the winter. At some point, she started asking for your flowers for her garments. Every time people started asking her where she got her flowers, to which she always would redirect them to you. Eventually, they started talking to you. Asking if you still had some of those flowers and if they could buy some. As if a few days ago, they wouldn't even want you to buy food from the market in fear of you somehow poisoning them.

Fortunately, with Aglaea's help, you were able to put up a flower shop in front of your cottage. If people walked near your house, they might see your beautiful garden, then purchase either a bouquet or a pot from you. Sometimes, but most especially during the Month of Joy, you would go to the marketplace and sell flowers to people who walked by.

And whenever you sold your flowers in the street, your ears always picked up the same conversation from everyone.

"Isn't that the witch's kid? Those flowers are probably cursed, then. Why are people buying? Aren't they worried?"

"Hey, that's Lady Aglaea's kid you're talking about. Why would she sponsor a witch when she's a devoted follower of Mnestia? You think she'd tolerate someone who's a disgrace to the gods?"

You always released your breath every time you heard those conversations. You were safe for now.

For now.

You didn't know how long this safety would last. But you didn't worry about it for now. The important part was that, even though people were still suspicious of you, they feared Aglaea more to actually do anything. And that was enough.

II. Shutting a Throat So Singed, I Don’t Have a Word That Won’t Sting

It had been twelve years ever since you lost your parents. With those twelve years, it felt like Okhema barely changed. In fact, like the Black Tide, it felt like it got worse. With Okhema being the largest city in Amphoreus, it accepted more refugees from cities or villages, the population wasn't the only thing that grew. There was also the paranoia.

Back then, while witch hunts were common, it still wasn't a regular occurrence. You didn't hear witch accusations just by walking the street, or wouldn't assume that another missing merchant meant the Council took another one for questioning. Now, you keep hearing that the Council shouldn't be accepting refugees that would bring the Black Tide with them, or that security should be stricter for people's safety.

It was all ironic. If only they knew that the strongest witch in the city was single-handedly protected them all from the very thing they believed witches caused. If they actually understood what they were afraid of, they wouldn't have this issue in the first place.

Sometimes, you had to attend the executions with Aglaea. While you couldn't be there for every one of them, it felt like basic courtesy to be there. To silently mourn an innocent soul, witch or not, that no one would even make a grave for. After all, if you didn't mourn for them, no one would.

With the rise in people entering Okhema also saw the rise of witch hunters pouring in. Nothing changed in your life. It just meant you had more people to be wary of. But still, you couldn't help but feel like things have been a bit… eerie.

You couldn't remember when it started. Perhaps it was a few months ago, perhaps it was even longer than you initially thought. But something changed.

You didn't know every witch in Okhema for safety reasons, but you knew the ones Aglaea introduced you to. There was the young man who tended to the Dromases and would use his magic to make their feed healthier. Then, there was the kind old lady who you always bought fruits from and would sometimes share you secrets on how to properly care for your plants, even during the colder seasons. Another one was a person your age, still trying to find out what their talent was going to be. You couldn't know them on a more personal level, but you knew them enough to be acquaintances.

And you would never be able to know them better, because all three of them were dead. Gone. Devoured by the same fire that took your mother.

It was then when you heard the gossip. A new witch hunter had arrived, someone who the Council was confident had an accurate nose. You didn't catch his name, but you did hear the nickname they gave him: Flame Reaver. He came from a small and unheard village called Aedes Elysiae, and a member of the Council left Okhema for a few years to train him personally.

"I doubt he's as good as they claim him to be," you told Aglaea when you delivered the yarrow she asked for. "I'm sure it's just pure chance that he's killing the "right" ones. If you kill seven people and four of them end up being witches, of course you'll think you're good at your job."

"Let the Council declare what they want to declare," she replied as she weaved the yarrow into a headpiece. "It makes them feel better about themselves and think they're "cleaning" the world from darkness."

"A little hard for me to do that." You scoffed and crossed your arms. "It's hard to let them do whatever they want when it's affecting so many lives permanently. I can't just sit idly and watch as they kill anyone in Okhema that questions their authority. At this rate, no one will be able to protect them from the Black Tide."

"Your spirit is strong." She turned around and faced you. Twelve years had passed since she first took you in, but she still looked at you with those soft eyes and smile. Aglaea placed a hand on your face, brushing away a bit of dirt that got on your cheek. "A strong spirit might not be enough to change the world, but it can be a spark for change. Just remember to be safe as well. Be a fire that guides people in the dark, not a fire that destroys without a thought."

You returned Aglaea's smile and pulled her in for a hug. "Don't worry, I'll be sure to stay safe."

You had gotten used to the chaos of Okhema that the next week was surprisingly peaceful. No fingers being pointed at each other, no mobs knocking on doors and dragging people to the Marmoreal Temple for questioning, no strife in general. While most people basked in the peace, your skin prickled. Something was off. Something was extremely off. This wasn't a breath of fresh air, this was the calm before the storm.

And your fears proved to be true.

The peace was cut short. Unsurprisingly, there was another execution. You had no plans to attend it. It was sundown, and you had just finished selling flowers in the street. You just wanted to go home. But just as you were about to leave the marketplace, your ears caught the name of the person being executed, and you immediately froze in your tracks.

Professor Anaxa.

Yourteacher. The one who had convinced you to not burden yourself with Cerces' teachings, just like him, and pursue a gentler and more lax god like Georios. The one who taught you not just magic, but general knowledge that you could use in your everyday life.

This was bound to happen someday. It was the thought that repeated in your head as you ran to Kephale Plaza. Professor Anaxa was already a controversial figure. People saw him as a heretic, a madman, a blasphemous scholar. He always insulted the gods at any opportunity he got and saw no reason to respect them. In fact, it was a miracle it took them this long to get him. He practiced alchemy in broad daylight, and no one seemed to bat an eye.

It was bound to happen someday.

You pulled your hood up and joined the crowd.

Even Aglaea was expecting it.

Your feet picked up their pace.

Professor Anaxa always said that his execution might as well happen tomorrow, so they didn't need to delay the inevitable.

The crowd was large, larger than it usually was. It was as if everyone in Okhema was here to watch and celebrate someone's death. When you saw Professor Anaxa, you covered your mouth to hide your gasp. They didn't just tie him to the stake—they had his wrists bound, arms spread wide open and tied to two wooden poles next to him, and his ankles were tied with even more rope as he hovered over where the fire would be later. It was as if he was the most dangerous person to ever exist. As if his death would suddenly purge the Black Tide.

He had always looked forward for this day… There was even a smile on his face as he scanned the crowd with his singular eye, the other one gone no thanks to one of his alchemical experiments in the past.

And yet, your heart still ached. He was still one of your teachers. Aside from Aglaea, he taught you everything you knew. You almost devoted yourself to Cerces because of him, and he persuaded you to live a simple life without worry of pursuing greater knowledge that you couldn't fathom.

Why? Why did they have to take him as well?

Keep your chin up. He would tell you that. In fact, you could even hear that in his voice. This is nothing to mourn for. Consider it a sign that I, Anaxagoras, achieved something so great that the council would rather execute me rather than understand my findings.

Someone holding a torch stood in front of him, and you didn't need to squint to know who it was. You recognized that man. A man who always claimed to be neutral, and yet was the one who lit every single pyre before he left Okhema for a few years to do gods know what, and continued to do so even during his return. The man who lit your mother's pyre.

Lygus.

"Citizens of Okhema," he began. "Heed my words—only those with unwavering faith shall accept Kephale's protection. The flame of blasphemy will not be allowed to take root here."

You had expected him to set fire to the hay, like he always did. But when he turned to Professor Anaxa, he threw the torch at him, making his pants catch fire before it could even hit the straw. And as the flame grew bigger and bigger, the crowd became louder and louder.

"Blasphemous!"

"Unforgivable!"

"Blasphemous!"

As expected, Professor Anaxa paid them, nor the fire, no mind. He didn't just smile, he laughed. It almost reminded you of the times he would teach you basic gardening magic, stop in the middle of his lessons to laugh and write something on the board, before dropping you off back to Aglaea just to disappear for a week or two. It was as if this was just another one of his eureka moments and not his death sentence.

"This body has long been tempered by near ruin," he said, like it was just another lecture. "But reason, desire, passion… will always re-ignite the burning fire within my soul!"

And fitting for his final performance, the fire turned from a bright and blinding orange to a deep blue-green and devoured him whole. High pitched screams erupted from the crowd as everyone backed off, some even running away, from the demised scholar.

As expected of him. He was on death's claw, and yet he still chose to bid farewell with an act people would always remember.

You lowered your head and held your hood. Another witch, gone too soon. You could feel tears gathering in your eyes, but seeing how he laughed… at least he got what he wanted.

You glared at Lygus again before turning your gaze to the others near him. They all wore the same attire; the pitch black robes that belonged to the witch hunters. Most of them wore masks, but you could imagine that they all had their brows furrowed down as they glared at the green fire. One of them removed his mask and wiped his face. His hood was up, but you could see the wisps of white hair peeking out. And now that his mask was off, his bright blue eyes stood out, almost as if they had their own glow to them.

The man froze, his eyes narrowing, before turning to his left. That was when you realized he was looking at you.

Running away from a witch hunter wasn't a good idea. It was grounds for suspicion. If you ran, then you were dead. But at the same time, you couldn't stay here. Aglaea's protection could only reach so far. If someone, especially a witch hunter, accused you in front of a crowd, then the majority would also vote for you to be burned as well. At least if you left, you might have an easier chance to escape. And if he caught you, it would be easier to convince one person rather than an entire city to spare you.

You turned around, leaving the mob and the burning body of your now deceased teacher. You kept your head low and tried to blend in as much as possible. Though if a witch hunter already had his eyes on you, a hooded figure walking away would be suspicious.

Even though you were now out, you still walked. Don't run, just walk. A warning so many witches had told you already. If you run, you’re as good as dead. If you walk, at least it won’t confirm their suspicions. And if you think you can use magic to get away, then you might as well confess you’re a witch. They’ll know if you use magic in front of them.

Your legs were itching to pick up the pace, to just run and maybe make him lose you. It was getting darker, and you were in an alleyway. Surely, you might be able to outrun him? Your cottage was at the outskirts of the village, away from most people. If you continued walking at this pace, then—

"In the name of Kephale, stop."

Dammit.

You did what you were told and turned around, watching as he removed his own hood. Now that he was face to face with you, everything about him was strangely bright. It wasn't just his eyes that stood out from the darkness, but his snowy white hair that reflected the light from a streetlamp behind him. His brows furrowed down as he scanned you from head to toe.

Those eyes… they were such a bright shade of blue. And yet, they glared at you as if you were lower than dirt.

You were half expecting him to spit on you, like how other people did. And when he spoke, you almost took a step back. "Remove your hood," he said.

You gulped, but you still followed. "Is there something wrong, sir?"

"You were at Kephale Plaza earlier, but left as soon as I saw you. Explain yourself."

Oh gods. Your heart was beating so loud that it was the only thing you could hear. That was the reason why he was suspicious of you? Because you left at the sight of your former teacher being burned alive? It was okay, it was fine. You could answer him. No need to panic.

"I- I'm sorry. It's just… Professor Anaxa is- was"—the correction made your stomach twist—"my teacher. It was- it was difficult to watch. Especially since the Council took unnecessary measures and tied him up like he was dangerous monster."

"He was a witch and a heretic. Those precautions were warranted."

You bit your tongue, almost literally. Sure, Professor Anaxa was eccentric, but he was far from a dangerous monster. But you couldn't say that. You weren't allowed to talk back. Not unless you wanted to be next.

“You say he was your teacher,” the man continued, snapping you out of your thoughts. “That means you must have been aware of his witchcraft, even to some extent, aren’t you?"

Cornered again. You couldn't say no; no one was unaware of Professor Anaxa and his beliefs. Saying no would be an obvious lie. "I believe everyone in Okhema knew about it."

"Then why didn't you report it to the Council of Elders?"

"If everyone was aware of Professor of Anaxa being a witch, but no one killed him before now, I- I saw no reason to send my teacher to death."

"So you would stay complacent because everyone else was doing it?"

"No, it's just that- I—"

"Reaver!"

Another voice appeared behind the man. When he turned around, another witch hunter was running towards him. The other man's eyes were wide, before his brows immediately furrowed down. A mask that covered the lower half of his face, but it was easy to tell that he was frowning when he grabbed his companion's arm and pulled him away from you.

"Hey, you got a death wish or something?" he hissed. "Do you have any idea who that kid is? That's Lady Aglaea's for gods' sake!" The man then turned to you and bowed. "I am so sorry for my friend here. He just got relocated to Okhema a few months ago, and he's still unfamiliar with how things work."

"Lady Aglaea's…" The man furrowed his brows as he looked at you. "But they don't even look alike. You're not saying this is—"

The other witch hunter nudged his chest, making him mutter an "ow" under his breath. "Again, so sorry about him. Please forget this ever happened. It wouldn't do good for the Council's reputation if they found out that the Flame Reaver wrongfully accused someone of witchcraft. I'll take him now."

It was as if someone poured cold water all over your body. Flame Reaver?

Even as Flame Reaver and his companion left, you remained rooted in your spot. Your throat was dry, and you doubted drinking an entire lake would be able to fix it. That was him. The Flame Reaver who was said to have an accurate nose for hunting witches.

Before the two of them left, Flame Reaver cast you one last glance and put his mask on again. You took that as your cue to pull your hood up and walked back to your cottage.

You always had difficulty sleeping these days. But right now, you tossed and turned in your bed even more than usual. You would have been shaken if it was any other witch hunter, but you doubted you would have been this restless. But the fact that it was Flame Reaver, the man that even the Council themselves was claiming to be accurate…

That word didn't stop echoing in your head. Accurate. If he truly was like what they claimed him to be, then you would have been dead meat if no one came there to stop him. Aglaea would have taken care of you for nothing.

No. You shook your head. You shouldn't linger on those thoughts. You were alive, and that was all that mattered.

And like what you told Aglaea before, how could they tell if someone was an "accurate" witch hunter, anyway? The ones they wrongfully accused never came back from the dead. In their eyes, wouldn't that make every accusation a spot on accusation? How did they determine if someone fit that claim? Even the Flame Reaver must have made some mistakes before.

He wouldn't find you. You were safe. They were suspicious of you, but you had evaded their eyes for twelve years now. You were safe.

You didn't know when you fell asleep. But you did know that, by the time you opened your eyes, it was morning already. You slept, but your mind still felt like it was floating on water. Unfortunately, you couldn't stay in bed and sleep in. You had work to do, no matter how little it was.

And so, you began your usual routine. Washed yourself, changed into one of the comfortable attires Aglaea crafted for you, then worked in your garden. You were careful with using magic, especially since sometimes, people would come in to your shop. Whether it was to ask why their flowers were dying even though they watered it everyday—

"No," you had said to the child that was crying when their tulips didn't look like it was blooming, "not every flower has to be watered daily. Tulips only need weekly watering. It's alright, you didn't know. Here, let me fix your flowers so it can grow again."

—or if it was a man whose lover was upset at him, and he was hoping to ask for forgiveness by buying some flowers.

"Do you even know what her favorite flowers are?" You scoffed at him. "Of course you don't. Well, you can't go wrong with ros—"

"She doesn't like roses."

Deep breaths. "Well, how about sunflowers, they're also popular."

"She hates yellow."

"Well if you know your partner that well, then, why don't you get flowers you know she'd like?"

"But I don't know what she likes! Aren't you the florist here?! What flowers would say, I'm sorry?"

You almost bashed your head against the wall when the man finally left.

When lunch rolled around, you finished most of your needed work earlier than usual. Perhaps you could pay Aglaea a visit.

Aside from that… Professor Anaxa just died last night. Though the two always bickered and argued, they both praised each other behind their backs. Aglaea was even the one who recommended Professor Anaxa to you. You should at least check on her. See how she was doing after the city lost another bright witch.

You grabbed your usual flower basket, just in case children would want to buy from you, and closed your shop for the day. As expected, once you reached the main streets of Okhema, they were the first ones lined up after you. Some of them offered trinkets, like the little boy who offered his "special pebble" that he found from the ground in exchange for roses for his mother. Some begged their parents to buy a flower crown, to which you would receive a suspicious glance before eventually purchasing one.

Now that you were older, your heart ached at the sight of them. These were children, no older than you when you first lost your parents. Did some of them also lose their parents to the witch hunts or the Black Tide? And most of all, how could the Council see these little ones and not hesitate to execute them if they were witches? Did they hate you all that much that they would be willing to kill children?

The thought stayed in your head, even when you finally reached Aglaea's shop. At least here, you could feel more at ease. A small chat with her always soothed your troubled mind.

"Aglaea, I'm ba—"

Perhaps you had offended the gods somehow. Or perhaps the threads of fate had already finished spinning the tapestry of your future, and decided that your demise was a beautiful color. Because why else would Flame Reaver be inside of Aglaea's shop?

He was looking down at first while Aglaea took his waistline's measurement, but he lifted his head when you entered. Something about him looked different, though you couldn't tell what it was. It wasn't like he changed his appearance. Maybe it wasn't him, but the change of scene. After all, last night, you met him in a dim alleyway during a cloudy night with your only lights being a streetlamp behind him. Now, the sunlight from the shop's window illuminated the side of his face, letting you see the smaller details. Like how his white hair was messy and unkempt, or how he had dark circles under his eyes.

Your stomach twisted, and you felt bile rising up in your throat. Was he also suspicious of Aglaea? No, no he couldn't be. He immediately let you go when the other witch hunter said you were her kid. He must have understood her importance. Or… was he also suspicious of her because of that fact? Did you drag Aglaea to her death as well?

"Ah, darling." Aglaea's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. She placed the tape measure on Flame Reaver's shoulders and took his measurements. "You're just in time. This is my last customer of the day, and I finished making lunch a while ago. Come in."

If you had any confidence earlier, it all turned to ashes.

Fortunately, Aglaea was doing a better job at keeping her composure. She just grabbed her pen and wrote the numbers down on her notebook. "Have you met Phainon?" she asked. "He's the Flame Reaver the Council was singing praises about."

"We…" You gulped. "We bumped into each other last night."

Even though she didn't pause, you saw the way her hand faltered. "Oh, I see. I did not know about that."

Now that Aglaea was done with him, Flame Reaver stepped away from her and placed a hand on his nape. "I- I sincerely apologize for that, Lady Aglaea. I didn't know that- I shouldn't have- I'm sorry for being suspicious of your child. My colleagues already warned me about it."

Aglaea simply hummed. "Do be careful next time. You know how seriously the Council takes accusations of witchcraft. Once it happens, it's near impossible to escape their clutches."

"Of- of course. I understand." He nodded. "Umm… is that everything for the clothes, then? When can I go back to, uhh, collect them?"

"Usually, I would say that it would take at least five months before you can expect the first garment to be finished, especially with how long my queue is. But since you're an important customer, I will be prioritizing yours. I estimate that everything will be done before the Month of Weaving can even start."

"Thank you. I'll see you, then."

Before Flame Reaver could walk past you, you took a step away from him. Unfortunately, he still turned his gaze at you. If his eyes were soft or gentle, you couldn't tell. It still felt like he was looking at you the way he glared at you last night. And right now, that was the only thing you could see on his face.

"I… umm…" He cleared his throat. "I think it's unfair that I apologized to Lady Aglaea but not to you. I- I'm sorry."

You shook your head. "It's fine. We can forget that last night ever happened."

Though you doubted you would actually be able to do that. The memory of almost being caught would definitely haunt you for a while.

"I didn't get your name, by the way. I'm—well, Lady Aglaea already told you who I am. But regardless, I'm Phainon."

Phainon. As if you would ever remember that name. You were certain you would call him Flame Reaver till the day you would die.

You told him yours. "And please. There's no need for formalities. You can just call me just that."

Flame Reaver repeated your name a few times before nodding. "Of course. I- umm- I'll go now. Thank you for the new clothes—or maybe, for taking my measurements, Lady Aglaea. And I'm sorry again about last night. I'll see you both."

Even when he finally left, you still didn't know if you had permission to breathe. The air was still thick. You were worried that, if you took a deep breath, you would suddenly find multiple knives piercing your lungs and making you choke on your own blood.

You didn't even notice that you dropped the flower basket until Aglaea picked up and placed it on a table. She placed one hand on your shoulder, while the other caressed your cheek.

"Child…" she whispered in that same motherly tone she always used on you. Whether it was because she was about to scold you for agreeing with Professor Anaxa's antics, or because you accidentally scraped your knee and needed healing.

You didn't fight back. Instead, you just leaned closer and wrapped your arms around her. "He's- he's gone. Professor Anaxa. They- they got him last night.

Aglaea pressed a kiss on your forehead and returned your hug. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine your mother doing the same thing. "I know. I heard. We should be at least thankful that he managed to survive this long, especially since it feels like he was intentionally trying to get himself killed. Though I'm sure he would be mocking us for mourning him. He'll want you to focus on what he deems more important things."

You almost laughed at that. "You mean have all the Dromas in the city gather together for his funeral?"

"I think he would rather you do that than throw all of his Dromas memorabilia into the River of Souls." She shook her head. "But enough of that. How are you feeling?"

Your heart clenched in your chest. "Is he… is he suspicious of you?"

"I'm not sure if he realized it yet, especially since we don't use magic anywhere inside the shop itself."

"Why did he come here?"

"He said he wanted to get his measurements so he can have clothes aside from his uniform. But I think he might have been looking for you."

"Aglaea, he's not—"

"He won't." Her hold on you grew tighter as you met her gaze. Her blue and green eyes always looked like she knew more than she was letting on, like her golden threads didn't just protect the city but also listened to the whispers in the streets. But despite that, she never stopped being soft and gentle.

How could a witch hunter look at her eyes and say she wasn't human?

"He won't get us," she continued. "He will not get you, and he will not get me. I'll have his new clothes finished before the Month of Weaving. That way, he has no reason to visit my shop. And if you want, you can stay with me for that entire month and say that you're just there to help me. We'll be safe, darling. I promise."

If it was possible, you held her even tighter. Even before your parents died, she was always there for you. And when she took you under her wing, she always did everything she could do to keep you safe, even if it sometimes felt like it was beyond what your parents asked for. Not once had you done anything to repay her kindness, but she never stopped being kind to you.

"Thank you, Aglaea," you whispered. "Thank you."

"Of course, darling. Anytime."

III. Lower Your Eyes, My Love and Spite Look Quite Alike

Like every time a witch hunt would happen, the days would pass by normally. It didn't matter if the Council found another person they deemed suspicious and dragged them to be "interrogated"—which you knew consisted of them whipping a confession out of the poor suspect and either leave them ostracized or dead in their home a few days later—or if there was another innocent soul burned at the stake, or if talks about the Black Tide became less of gossip and more of regular market conversations. Oronyx didn't freeze time so you could grieve your parents, why would they freeze time just so you could grieve those with looser connections to you?

At least Flame Reaver didn't approach you after that day in Aglaea's shop. You would occasionally see him in the Marmoreal Market or the main streets, but you didn't give him the opportunity to see you or talk to you. If you had to deliver flowers to a couple celebrating their anniversary, you would act casually so he wouldn't realize you saw him. If you went to Aglaea's shop, you made sure to linger there longer and even help around just until he would leave. If children were asking you to teach them how to make your flower crowns, you gathered as much as you can so he wouldn't think of interrupting children having fun.

You didn't know if he was suspicious, but you wouldn't give him the chance or opportunity to be more convinced.

Were you being paranoid? Probably. And maybe that paranoia would be the cause of your execution instead. But you would rather be paranoid and be over-prepared instead of being caught off guard.

The days turned into weeks. Before you knew it, it was the Month of Freedom, where everyone was free to do whatever they wanted. The seasons were also starting to change—the leaves shifting from bright and healthy greens to deep and dark reds. Every time you stepped out of the house, the first thing that would greet you would always be the satisfying crunch of the leaves beneath your shoes.

Surprisingly, Aglaea had also finished making all of Flame Reaver's garments. You didn't know how she did it, especially since she didn't use any magic to make his clothes. She even had to move one of her looms to a space in her house where she didn't use magic at all just so that not even residue of magic would cling on to the fabric. You were her only assistant, and she never ar asked for your help.

So it was a miracle that, a month later, you were helping Flame Reaver put on his new white coat.

Ever since you met him, the first thing you always noticed from him were his eyes. The murderous glint he showed you that night, the empty look they had that didn't reflect any light, the way they would flick to the side every few seconds whenever you were near each other, as if he was subtly watching you from his peripheral vision. So right now, as you watched him examine the elegant leaf pattern on his sleeves, you naturally found yourself looking at his eyes.

They were usually empty and blank, but you swore you saw them light up for a brief second before dimming again.

"These look… intricate," he said in that usual mumble of his. As if his voice would break if he spoke above a whisper.

"I'm glad you think so," Aglaea replied with a smile. "Here, let me add a finishing touch."

She clasped a blue and gold cape on his left shoulder, the length almost the same as his own coat. Blue on the back, gold on the front, with embroidered lines on the edges that resembled the sun's rays.

"They're… they're beautiful."

You had to agree. Aglaea really outdid herself with this one. Then again, this was Aglaea, after all. When did she not outdo herself? You also couldn't help but think that white suited him better than black. Perhaps because it matched his hair. Or maybe his cape's colors also matched his eyes.

"It's it's a shame that I can't wear this everyday."

You raised a brow. "What's stopping you?

"Well, I- I have to wear my uniform everyday, after all."

Ah, right. He looked so different in that coat that you had almost forgotten who or what he was. On the bright side, at least it was another testament to how amazing of a seamstress Aglaea was. The clothes she made could completely change a person's demeanor.

"I can't thank you enough, Lady Aglaea," Flame Reaver said once he was back to his uniform. Your shoulders tensed at the sight, and you took a small step back to hide behind one of the mannequins. "These outfits… wow. I don't think words can express just how much I love them."

"Of course, of course," Aglaea said with a wave of her hand. For most people, they might see her expression as either her usual gentle smile or perhaps even a blank look. But you noticed the faint way the corner of her lips curled up in a small smirk.

A few minutes after he finally left, you breathed a sigh of relief and sat down. You were never this nervous around a witch hunter before. And yet, every time you saw him, your legs would always shiver and your heart would start pounding so fast it would hurt. You could never tell if it was a sign to run or if it was your body freezing in place. You didn't even understand why you were so scared of him. Was it really because he almost caught you that night? Or because of his stupid reputation. Maybe that was the case. Perhaps even your own doubts weren't able to douse your fear of being caught.

"He's gone," you said, taking another deep breath and long sigh. "I thought he would take longer."

"It did seem like he was planning to stay around for a while," Aglaea replied as she sat across you. "But, it's as you said. He's gone now."

Your brows furrowed down. It was rare to see it on her face, but there were dark circles under her eyes. Even if she was tired or overworked, she always adorned her face with makeup, so it was difficult to tell. Even then, the curls of her golden hair were clearly unbrushed, and she didn't have the golden laurel wreath that always made her more elegant.

It was difficult to imagine her working during the late hours, stitching every pattern, connecting every piece, and even weaving every fabric, all by hand and without using her magic. Her gift was a part of her, and it was who she was. You were sure it pained her to not use her talent, but she still did it if it meant keeping the both of you safe.

"You know, it's still the Month of Freedom," you said. "You still have another month before the Month of Weaving. Why did you finish all of his clothes so soon?"

Aglaea lifted her head and met your gaze, making her tiredness more evident, even with the smile on her face. "I simply want to celebrate the Month of Freedom, like everyone else. I realized that my queue isn't as long as I thought it would be. So, why not use the opportunity to finish his garments, take a break for the rest of the month, and then continue my work once it's the Month of Reaping?"

That excuse felt… flimsy. Weak. You knew there was something else she wasn't saying. But you weren't going to question her about it for now. She was tired. The last thing you wanted was to stress her out with questions even more.

So instead, you nodded. "I understand. Get some rest, then. Do you want me to make dinner instead?"

"That will be lovely, darling. Thank you."

Since she closed the shop early, you had time to make a nice meal. Still, anxiety still ate away your veins as you watched her while you both ate together.

Maybe she was already tired before making those clothes. Perhaps she truly did mean it when she said that she wanted to clear her schedule for the Month of Freedom and have a break before her schedule would start piling up. Besides, her moon was coming soon. Her magic would grow stronger, and the outfits she would make would be more extravagant. Not to mention that she would use it as an opportunity to strengthen the threads holding Okhema's barrier together. She needed to rest and save her energy for her busiest month.

True to its name and the god that it was dedicated to, the Month of Freedom was peaceful, and it quietly transitioned to the Month of Reaping. Usually, this would be the time you would visit Professor Anaxa's home and listen to his rambles for an entire month.

"You don't have to burden yourself with the knowledge that came directly from this god," he would tell you, "but that doesn't mean I won't be teaching you what I deem valuable information to share. Now, grab a pen and paper and make sure to write everything down."

And you would sit with him in his study, writing down only as much as you could before complaining to Aglaea that he was sprouting nonsense again. To which the two would bicker again, and he would be forced to teach you "simpler" and "easier" spells that could actually help you grow stronger.

But he wasn't here anymore. When you opened the door to his house, there was no voice to scold you that you should have knocked. No one to warn you that he hadn't cleaned his house since last week, as he was engrossed in another alchemical experiment. You dragged no one away from the transmutation circle, no one to convince that trading his popliteal vein wasn't worth the risk of transforming into a Dromas at will.

Despite the silence, you did what you usually did whenever you got the chance to visit him. You cleaned up his house, leaving only his study and bedroom the way they were. The multiple Dromas plushies he owned looked lonelier without him. You would throw them into the River of Souls and hope that they would find him in the Nether Realm, but you had a feeling he would haunt you if you dared lay a single finger on all of his valuable items.

"I'll be leaving now, Professor," you whispered. "Thank you for all of your teachings. May you be reborn as a Dromas in your next life."

Despite your heart feeling empty, it was also heavy when you opened the door. But before you could even take a step out, a scream almost left your lips.

Flame Reaver stood in front of you.

Was he following you? His eyes widened as if he was shocked, but he could be pretending just so you wouldn't think he was following you. Dammit, you didn't even notice he was nearby. The peace that the Month of Freedom gave you must have made you lower your walls. You needed to remember that a witch hunter might be on your tail now.

"F- Flame Reaver. Good morning," you said with a nod.

He returned your nod. "Morning. What… what brings you here? This isn't your home, is it?"

You shook your head. "No, sir. It's- it was my teacher's. Professor Anaxa's. I just… I came here to clean his place up. It's been tradition of hours that, during the Month of Reaping, I'll come to his home and help him tidy up the place while he studies what he can. How about you? Why are you here?"

"I have orders from Lygus to confiscate anything I find suspicious here. So if you can, let me inside."

"Confiscate?" Your brows furrowed down. "I'm sorry, I'm confused. What is there to confiscate. Professor Anaxa is long dead. You've no need to investigate his home when you've already killed a witch, don't you think?"

"He might still have some things the Council will find useful. Perhaps a list of any witches he knows, or if he tampered with the dark arts and he left symbols that we should be wary of before it corrupts Okhema. I'm sure you understand. I won't ask a second time. Let me in."

Your hands clenched into fists. If Professor Anaxa was here, he would have pointed his gun at Flame Reaver and tell him to get out. Aside from his Dromas collection, his research was another thing he valued the most when he was still alive. He didn't even share you what was in his notes and scrolls. Rather, he would either make you write what he was saying, or rewrite a new one for you that you would be able to understand.

You didn't want to let him in. But at the same time, if you didn't, then he would drag you to the Marmoreal Temple. Before you knew it, you'd be dead.

This was a lose-lose situation.

With a gulp, you stepped aside and let him in. "I- I know you're here to investigate, but if you can, please leave his Dromas collection in his room. It meant everything to him, and I would rather they remain the way they are."

He raised a brow as he entered Professor Anaxa's home. "It's clean…"

"Like I said, I cleaned it up."

He opened the door to Professor Anaxa's room. If he weren't a witch hunter, you would have chuckled at the way his eyes widened. No doubt he saw the multiple Dromas plushies, Dromas figurines, Dromas blanket, and even Dromas onesie that you had laid on top of his bed.

"You were… you weren't joking when you said that it's filled with Dromas," he said as he stepped inside, and you almost squeaked as you followed him. "Is there a reason with his obsession with Dromas? Does he use them for potions? Maybe trades their body parts for power? Make deals with the devils of the Black Tide and use them as sacrifice?"

This was a trap, you could tell. Everyone in Okhema knew that Professor Anaxa was a witch, but you had mentioned before you were his student. While he did teach other children things that weren't related to witchcraft, this could still be a way for him to get you to slip up that you were aware of what he did that involved magic. It could be a way to get a confession from you.

"Umm… I- I don't know if this is the answer you're looking for, but I don't- I'm not aware of everything Professor Anaxa did behind closed doors. He just taught me basic education. Though I doubt that he actually used Dromas for whatever witchcraft he did. He just seems to like them. A lot."

Flame Reaver almost reached for one of the figurines on the windowsill, but immediately withdrew his hand. He was quiet for a while, just standing near the window with his chin resting on his hand. While he did stare at the window, it didn't seem like he was staring at the Dromas figurines specifically. Rather, he was simply facing their direction.

You didn't know what he was thinking, and you didn't want to know. You just wanted him to get out and not disrespect your teacher anymore. But at the same time, you didn't want him touching anything here. What if he accidentally broke one of Professor Anaxa's utensils? What if he would grab one of his plushies and rip it open just to see if he was hiding anything inside? You needed to think your actions. Impulse would be your death sentence. But how would you even get him to leave?

"I promise there's nothing in this room that would be of use to the Council's investigations." The words left your lips before you could even think twice, making you mentally kick yourself. Your hands clenched into fists as you felt your eyes burn. "I know you're worried that- that he might have left something here that will curse Okhema. But it's not in his room. This is really just his collection that he loved so much."

Your words seemed to snap him out of his trance. Flame Reaver lifted his head and looked at you. His mouth opened, closed, opened, and then closed again, before sighing. "You're right. I can't sense anything here. I'm sorry, I was just thinking about something."

Deep breaths. Your nails were digging in to your palms now. If you would clench your hands even tighter, no doubt it would leave crescent-shaped wounds or even bleed. Perhaps being in your deceased teacher's home was making you irrational. If he were still alive, he would have told you to leave for your own safety and disregard the Dromas collection.

"I- I should go," you whispered as you turned around. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be interfering with official Council business. I- I apologize."

Before he could mutter another word, you left. Like always, you didn't run. You just walked. You kept your head high and hands by your side until you returned to your cottage. Only then did you allow yourself to fall to your knees and for your tears to fall.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! You should have left as soon as you saw him, but you didn't. You thought that you should be protecting Professor Anaxa's belongings instead. If he was still alive and found out that you made such a reckless decision, no doubt he would have been mad.

"Prioritize your safety," he would have said. "Once Aglaea passes, you're the next in line to protect Okhema from the Black Tide. Let my collection burn to ashes if it means that you would still be around."

You wiped your tears from your eyes as you stood up. Would he really say that? Or would he have told you to protect his collection at all cost? You remembered how much he loved that collection. It was ridiculous, but you always noticed how he seemed softer whenever he held even the smallest plushie he owned. It was valuable to him, and you didn't want anyone in the Council getting their dirty hands on it just so they could hurt more of your people.

Get a grip. Flame Reaver was, no doubt, convinced now. You should have left when he arrived, but you didn't. So now, you would have to clean up your own mess and make sure that he wouldn't be able to catch you. Because if you died too soon, then that would truly anger Professor Anaxa, and he would no doubt chase you off with his gun in the Nether Realm.

For the next week, you had been starting your morning in one of two ways—opening your eyes and realizing that you didn't get proper sleep, or get up from bed without any sleep at all. You rarely had energy to make breakfast, too. So, not only were you constantly sleep deprived, you didn't even eat unless Aglaea reminded you to.

You dragged yourself out of bed and did your first routine. Wash, get dressed, open the shop. Maybe today, you should get lunch at the Marmoreal Diner later. You still had work to do, so unfortunately breakfast was out of the picture. Even if your arms could barely carry the watering can, you still picked it up and watered the flowers that needed watering. Fortunately, it wasn't a lot. It was fall now, and most of your flowers would be wilting in the winter. But taking care of them before they depart wouldn't hurt.

You were in the middle of watering a patch of golden flowers when the bell rang. Which was a little odd. While you did have customers during morning, it wasn't even the usual breakfast time yet. Maybe you forgot a delivery or a reservation? With how little sleep you had lately, it wouldn't be surprising.

"In a minute!"

You put down your watering can and stood up, removing any dirt that clung to your clothes. If it was Aglaea, the last thing she needed to see was how sleep deprived you were. If it was a customer, you needed to smile and let them know they weren't walking into the devil's den.

"Good morning! Is there any way I can help you today?"

Your smile almost faded immediately when you saw who it was in front of you. Flame Reaver.

The whispers and gossip returned to your mind. About how he had an accurate nose for finding witches. About how, once he found his target, he wouldn't let them go until he found damning evidence of their witchcraft. You remembered that night again, when he found you in the alleyway, and the day he found you in Professor Anaxa's home with you acting extremely suspicious.

Great. You had done it. Your recklessness yesterday had sealed your fate. You might as well grab a shovel in your shed and dig a ditch. At least that way, you wouldn't burn to death. If you hadn't been so reckless that day, then maybe he wouldn't be here.

His uniform didn't help, either. A black garb, with a golden crescent moon on his chest, and a torn cape. If someone told you that this was what Thanatos looked like, you would have believed them.

Calm down. He wasn't here to drag you to the stake yet. That was the worst case scenario. Which was still possible, but you didn't want to dwell on that thought for now.

"Morning," he said with a wave and a small smile. As if he didn't look like an executioner. "Umm… your flower shop looks nice. You… you grew here everything yourself?"

"I… I did." You nodded. "Morning. Is there any way I can help you?"

"Umm, well. I- I just wanted to apologize again for that day in your teacher's house. I continued investigating after I left, but I didn't touch any of his Dromas collection like you asked. I'm- I'm sorry. I must have bothered you that day."

You allowed yourself to sigh in relief. For now. You didn't know if he was going to bring up the fact that you were a witch, but you would let yourself relax before the worst would come. "It's alright," you said. "Honestly, it was a ridiculous thing to be mad about now that I'm looking back on it. I shouldn't have stepped in when you were working."

"No." He shook his head. "I also would have been on edge if someone I didn't know started touching my deceased loved ones' important belongings."

At least he was aware of that.

"Words aren't probably enough to express how sorry I am," he continued. "I originally thought of buying you flowers as an apology, but then I remembered that you were the florist. So maybe… maybe I can buy flowers from you instead?"

It was an innocent request, but you knew it was anything but. It was almost the same reason why Aglaea rushed making all of his new clothes without using magic. Some witch hunters were more sensitive at sensing magic more than others. And if he was both excellent and trained for that, then even the smallest hint of magic could be a death sentence.

Unfortunately, you weren't in a situation where you could reject him. Aside from the fact that you had been acting nothing but suspicious, you had no valid reason to not give him any flowers. If you did, he would ask you if your flowers were grown with magic, and then drag you to your death. And either Aglaea would be forced to cut ties with you to protect yourself, or they would drag her along.

It was a bright and sunny day outside, and yet it felt like the abyss was clawing you, dragging you, telling you that the Council was right and that there was a special place in the Nether Realm specifically for witches like you.

You raised a brow. "You want to buy flowers?"

He nodded. "I'm not really an expert on them, so I don't know how to properly care for them. Maybe… maybe something low maintenance? I'll definitely remember to water them and give them sunlight. The window in my house has a lot of light, actually. I just don't know if I can take of flowers where I need to cut the stems frequently, or if I have to change pots every season."

You nodded and turned around, repeating it was fine in your head again. You didn't use magic all the time to take care of your garden. You had taken care of flowers without any magic at all before. The question was, had you taken care of a flower that fit his criteria?

After scanning your display, you found one. Golden flowers, just like the one you were taking care of earlier.

"Here." You picked the pot of golden flowers up and passed it to him. "These are chrysanthemums, and they're on the low maintenance side. Place them on a spot with enough sunlight, and you only need to water them whenever their soil feels dry. Of course, if there's anything wrong with your flowers, like you're not sure why the leaves are turning yellow or why they're dying even after you water them according to schedule, you can always ask me questions."

Even though the last thing you wanted was more interactions with a witch hunter.

After paying, he pulled the pot closer to him and smelled the flowers. Just like that time in Aglaea's shop, his eyes lit up, even for a moment. "They smell very sweet." His usually straight lips curled into a faint smile. As if buying golden flowers was the highlight of his day that had just started. "Thank you. I- I'll take care of them. I like to think I have a green thumb."

Somehow, you doubted a man who could kill people with no remorse would be talented enough to keep a simple pot of flowers alive.

You were about to bid him farewell when your stomach growled. Right. You hadn't eaten yet. Maybe since yesterday lunch.

"You- you hungry?" he asked, reminding you that he was still there. "I know this is too forward, but would you like to join me for breakfast in the Marmoreal Diner? Consider it my treat. And as an apology for… everything."

You felt a brow twitch. He wasn't even hiding the fact that he was keeping an eye on you now, was he?

"It's fine, I can cook. Besides, didn't you already buy the flowers as an apology?"

"Well, how about an extended apology? Witchcraft accusations are heavy and shouldn't be taken lightly. Do you really consider me buying flowers as water under the bridge? And besides." You didn't think it was possible, but his smile widened. It felt a little out of place, especially since you only saw him with a grim expression on his face all the time. "Can you really say no to free food?"

Yes, yes you could. This was a trap. You were an idiot for being reckless in Professor Anaxa's house that day, but you weren't foolish enough to say yes. At least this time, you had a reason to reject him.

"The offer sounds nice, but the answer is still no. I hope you understand."

If he was disappointed, it was a little difficult to tell. His smile became smaller, almost fading, but that was his usual expression. "Don't worry, I- I understand. Thank you for the flowers again. I'm sure they'll be a lovely addition to my home."

With a final wave, he finally left your shop. Even when he was gone, you still couldn't forget the smile he showed you. A big and wide grin, almost as if the world was alright. As if he didn't have the blood of multiple witches on his hands. And most of all, you still couldn't forget the night you two first met.

It didn't matter how many smiles he showed you or how many flowers he bought. At the end of the day, he still wanted you dead.

Your heart was still restless in your chest, even when you finished working in your garden to cook yourself lunch. How long was he going to stay in Okhema? Hopefully, not forever. Whether it was because other witches had found a way to cleanse the Black Tide, or because he would be assigned to a different city, it didn't matter. You missed being able to breathe without worrying you'd be dead if you exhaled wrong.

You wondered if Oronyx, ever the childish god as the stories always said, was playing with you and making time slower to spite you specifically. Everything felt so agonizingly slow, and the passing days felt more like passing years. The Month of Weaving couldn't come any sooner. It would be the last month of fall and Aglaea's busiest season. Your shop wouldn't be open, and you would be spending your days helping her instead. You would be under her protection, and no witch hunter or member of the Council of Elders would be insane enough to drag you out of her shop.

Maybe you could also sleep in her house again. You were having difficulty sleeping these days, and you never had the energy to make breakfast for yourself. In fact, you didn't open the shop today. You could feel your body growing weaker and weaker by the minute, and no amount of magic could sustain you skipping your meals.

Once you were sure your door was locked, you stretched your arms and sighed. It was quiet today, save for the fallen leaves dancing in the air as the wind blew them away. It was a perfect weather for a nap. If you didn't feel like passing from hunger in the next three seconds, you would have stayed in bed and just slept.

Though just before you could leave your garden, a chill traveled down your spine. Something felt… off. And it wasn't just your paranoia or a gut feeling. Something in the air was wrong. You couldn't pinpoint what the exact feeling was, but it was as if there was corrupted magic nearby. Which didn't make sense. Aglaea's threads held a tight grip on the city. Corrupted magic like the Black Tide shouldn't be able to get in.

Unless… unless it did? She had been protecting Okhema all by herself for almost twenty years now, maybe even more. And not once did she stop to take a break, even to the point where the spell was still working in her sleep. It wouldn't be unsurprising if a Black Tide creature managed to enter Okhema. You couldn't fault her for that.

You didn't have a lot of energy right now. Which, unfortunately, meant you couldn't deal with the problem. Perhaps after lunch, you could pay Aglaea a visit and tell her about it. She might also be able to tell you what to do. Acting rashly might hurt you.

You pulled your cloak tighter around yourself and stepped out of your home. As soon as you did, the chill you felt grew worse. You stopped in your tracks and close your eyes, then took a deep breath. Something was coming towards you. Something you had felt before. A Black Tide creature was coming your way. Something that couldn't enter Okhema no matter what. Which meant…

Aglaea's threads… you couldn't feel them. Even when you pinched the air, you couldn't find even the thinnest thread. Did the barrier shrink? Was she alright? What if she passed out in her home from fatigue and didn't realize it made the spell stop?

Dammit. You couldn't just leave this here. If this entered Okhema, then no doubt the witch hunts would just grow more intense. You had to deal with this before it grew worse. Your magic was weak right now, but it would be enough to handle a Black Tide creature.

It didn't seem like it was far from your cottage. Rather, it was the forest near your home, which meant it hadn't entered the city yet, thankfully. While you didn't want any of them corrupting your garden, you would rather they attack your home first than hurt the normal people of Okhema. At least you could handle yourself.

The forest grew darker the deeper you went, with the sunlight peeking through the red and orange leaves providing you light. After a while of walking, you finally reached the place where the corruption felt the strongest. At that moment, it felt like the gods had decided to punish you by letting Zagreus let lose and have you be a victim of their pranks. Because kneeling in front of you had to be none other than Flame Reaver himself.

It didn't look like he noticed you yet. Instead, he was focused on the black and red marks on the dirt—a telltale sign that a Black Tide creature was here not too long ago. He took out something from his pocket, but you couldn't tell what it was. Only that it looked like a card of some sorts. You can definitely feel corruption from the mark, but it wasn't what you felt. If it was just a scratch on the dirt, then it wouldn't have been this strong.

Maybe you should just leave him. The last time you meddled in his business, you almost got caught. And he was a witch hunter. It would do you better if he died. It meant you had one less thing to worry about. Nothing would change about your life, but at least the worst one was gone, right?

You were about to turn around when you faced him again. He wasn't even looking at the mark anymore, just at the card he was holding earlier. Your eyes moved to the right—

"Flame Reaver, get down!"

Before he could stand up, you got out of the bushes and ran towards him, pushing him out of the way. Your vision blurred, and your arms burned as it scraped the ground beneath you. But at least you were hurt because you pushed him away rather than because the gryphon managed to scratch your skin.

You tried to open your eyes, but your head was spinning. The gryphon roared again, but it was hard to tell what was going on. Your eyes were heavy, your body was heavy. It was fall, but everything was both too bright and too hot. Even though you were on the ground, you could feel sweat falling down your forehead. In the middle of the Month of Reaping, too.

"Hey, hey. Can you hear me? Can you get up?"

When you opened your eyes, you had half expected to see you still on top of Flame Reaver when you had pushed him out of the way. But instead, he was above you, blue eyes wide as he held you in his arms. When you turned your eyes to the side, you could see his sword planted on the ground, with the gryphon fading away into squares before disappearing.

He called your name again, free hand lightly tapping your cheek. "It's okay, it's okay. I got you. Can you get up?"

Despite your shaking legs, you nodded and forced yourself to stand up. Before you could trip again, he grabbed your arms once more. "Easy, easy. Sit down for a minute. Here." He grabbed the flask of water from his waist. "Drink up. You're probably really thirsty right now."

"Th- Thank you." Gods, even your voice was dry.

You gathered any remaining strength you had to open the flask and slowly drank the water. It was cold, and it stirred your mind awake somewhat. Your vision was still a little blurry, but you could see Flame Reaver's brows furrowing down as he sat next to you.

"I- thank you," he whispered. "I was too lost in thought that I didn't even notice the gryphon. I'm sure I would have been a goner if you hadn't been there."

You shook your head and passed the flask back to him. "Don't mention it."

"No, I- I'm really grateful. I don't know what you were doing here, but I don't think I would have gotten out safe if you didn't push me away. Though I am a little worried. The gryphon didn't touch you, but you still passed out after you pushed me away. Do you have a fever, or…"

He raised his hand. For a brief moment, you saw it again. The way his eyes looked like he didn't see you as anything human. Before he could touch you, you scooted backwards, arm ready to swat his away just in case.

He paused, but immediately lowered his hand. "Sorry, I just thought I should check you in case you had a fever or something. Or if the gryphon managed to hurt you and… it didn't get you, right?"

"I'm fine," you replied, albeit too quickly for your liking. "I'm fine. I'm alright. It's just fatigue and hunger. I haven't been eating or sleeping properly lately."

"I do remember that you were already working when I came to your shop for the first time, even if it sounded like you hadn't eaten yet."

You already knew where this was going.

"Do you want to join me for lunch?" he asked, and you weren't surprised. "I'd treat you as payment for saving my life, but you can pay your own if you want. It's just that, well, you're obviously hungry. I don't think it would be right if you skipped another meal."

It truly seemed like your paranoia would be your downfall. If you had just brushed everything aside, you wouldn't have stayed up the entire night worrying if you would find yourself at the stake, and you wouldn't have passed out near him. There was also the possibility that he knew you would act like this. Knew that, if he scared you enough, you would eventually find yourself in this type of situation. And he would act like a caring and concerned hero, only to lure you into his trap.

You wanted to decline again. But both your stomach and head were starting to ache in a way that you could no longer ignore.

"I don't think I have a choice on that matter," you said with a sigh. "Besides, I was already on my way to the Marmoreal Diner. Having company shouldn't be too bad."

If the company was anyone but a witch hunter, then sure. You would have believed that thought, even if it was just a little.

He smiled, and his eyes lit up for a moment. Their blue hue didn't suit the warm autumn leaves behind him. "Do you want to hold on to me? I don't want you accidentally falling again."

"I'm fine. I can walk."

If he had any protests, he didn't say them. Instead, he just nodded. "At the very least, let's take it slow. You shouldn't overexert yourself."

He helped you up to your feet and returned to Okhema. By the time you reached your cottage again, you could feel the faint hum of Aglaea's threads once more. But you held your sigh of relief. Flame Reaver stiffened a little. He must have sensed the sudden presence of magic as well. Fortunately, with how spread out it was in the city, it would be difficult to pin it to Aglaea herself. She was safe right now.

You didn't notice that you had arrived at Marmoreal Diner until the smell of food reached your nose. And as if to remind you of your unfortunate predicament, your stomach growled. When was the last time you ate? You knew you skipped dinner last night, but did you even eat at all yesterday? Or the day before that?

It was a futile thing to hope for, especially since it always seemed like she knew what was going on in the city, but you hoped Aglaea didn't wouldn't find out that you had collapsed somewhere in the forest and a Black Tide creature almost got to you. You remembered the exhaustion in her eyes. Adding to the fact that the barrier faltered for a moment earlier, she must be extremely tired and stressed with protecting Okhema. The last thing she needed was to add you to her list of worries.

Someone took your order, and it was only a few minutes before they arrived with it. The food in the Marmoreal Diner was always appetizing. Whether it was something like your favorite mutton chops, or the grilled fish that Flame Reaver ordered for himself, you always found yourself craving for their food. You remembered eating here with Aglaea when you were younger, and she had drag you out after having eating because you still wanted to eat despite the fact that you were full.

But right now, despite passing out from hunger and fatigue, you didn't know if you could eat.

Still, you took a bite out of the meat. The familiar sweet and savory flavor hit your tongue, and your stomach growled even louder. If you were feeling a little better, perhaps you would have eaten with delight. But you couldn't even tell if you were shaking from hunger or anxiety, so it was difficult to enjoy your meal.

"Hey."

It was as if he read your thoughts. When you lifted your head, Flame Reaver was looking at you, brows furrowed down in concern, before his lips slowly curled into a small smile. You interacted with him only twice or thrice. And when you did see him, his expression was always serious or pensive. But somehow, that smile on his face seemed more like his natural expression.

"Listen, I know we started off on the wrong foot, but I was hoping if you could be less tense around me?"

You blinked. "Less tense?"

"I notice it, you know. Whenever you're near me, you always look so nervous. I know that witch hunters don't have the most pleasant reputation, and I'm aware that there have been cases where people have been wrongfully accused—not to mention I must have been very disrespectful in your own teacher's home that day—but I want you to know that you have nothing to be afraid of. Not with me, at least."

Oh. So you were more obvious than you thought. If he noticed your entire demeanor changing around him, then what else did he notice?

You didn't intend to, but a scoff left your lips. "Let me guess… I have nothing to fear if I have nothing to hide? I've heard the Council of Elders say that so many times already."

"Would you believe me if I say that I don't believe that?"

"I apologize, but no."

"Well, I truly don't." He shook his head. "Right now, everyone has every reason to feel afraid. The Black Tide getting worse, the rising number of witches being discovered, the Council of Elders being stricter with their regulations—even a normal person would be afraid from just the tensions alone. I don't blame you for being afraid, which is why I'm letting you know that you've nothing to fear from me. You can trust me."

If he wasn't a witch hunter, you would have almost believed his words. Aside from Aglaea and Professor Anaxa, you didn't have anyone to confide in. They had told you that, even if someone was a witch, you shouldn't feel to comfortable around them because if the Council were to discover them, then they might tell the truth if they were tortured long enough. And even if you just wanted to befriend the average citizen, people wouldn't look at you without a suspicious glance. You didn't have a lot of people to trust in.

While you wouldn't have been able to tell him the truth, perhaps he might have been a breath of fresh air. If he wasn't a witch hunter, perhaps that smile of his could have convinced you that maybe, maybe this could be the first person that would treat you like a human. But he wasn't that person. He was a witch hunter, and you were a witch. There was no circumstance where you could feel comfortable around him.

It was a curious thing, however. If he had those beliefs, then why did he become a witch hunter? He was just contributing to that very fear he was talking about, but he was still in this job. His words were obviously meant to soothe you, but they did the complete opposite. Let's not forget the fact that he's supposedly the best one the Council has. Nothing about him was comforting.

But if he was truly like that, then why was he here, spending lunch with you, instead of dragging you to the Marmoreal Temple?

Your head was hurting. Maybe you shouldn't think too much on it. Regardless of what he was like as a person, he saw you as lesser than human when he thought you were a witch. You couldn't find yourself trusting a person who saw you like that.

After lunch, your stomach felt full. A sigh of relief left your lips as you leaned back on the chair. Food definitely eased your mind a bit, and you could slowly feel your energy and magic returning. Who would have known that the answer to hunger was food? What was next, the answer to fatigue was sleep?

"I feel better now," you said. "Thank you for accompanying me to lunch, Flame Reaver."

"No problem. And please, like I said before, just Phainon is alright. It's very unfair that I'm calling you without any formalities, but you're referring to me with my title."

As if. But his answer was still interesting. "I thought witch hunters would have wanted the prestige that came along with the job."

"Not all of us." And there it was again. A laugh, followed by a small smile. "I'm glad the meal helped you feel better. And what I said before, too. I meant it. I don't want you to feel like you're walking on eggshells around me. I'm not here to hurt you, after all."

It was either a lie, or naiveté. You couldn't tell which one was worse.

"If you say so. See you around, Phainon."

It felt strange saying his name. Your tongue burned a little, as if it was punishing you somehow. Your mother had told you before that names had power, even if one wasn't a witch. Perhaps the power of his name was to punish witches who would say it out loud. But you didn't linger on that thought for long. You took your leave as soon as you were out of the diner. You didn't know where he was going nor did you care. You weren't going to let his kindness—a witch hunter's kindness—deceive you.

When you reached it, Aglaea's shop and house still provided you with the same comfort it always did. You felt bad intruding her when she was resting and eating a platter of meat, crackers, and cheese. But still, you had to tell her about the fact that the barrier faltered earlier. She had to know, or else neither of you would be able to fix it before it got worse.

After you recounted the events of today, she sighed and looked down. "I see. That was… negligence on my part. I didn't even realize that it had happened. Has the barrier returned to normal?"

You nodded. "When I returned with Flame Reaver, I noticed it was up again. I think he did, too."

"I'm not too worried about him in that regard. And I think you need to lessen your fears about him, too. It's not healthy for you."

You sighed as you grabbed some crackers and cheese. "Easy for you to say. I feel like I'm going insane every time we bump into each other. He must really just be naive to let me get away if this isn't his way of waiting for me to take the bait."

"This is a development. Weren't you the one who told me that he's not as good as a witch hunter as the Council claims to be?"

"I did, but that was before I saw him." You placed your cup of ambrosia down and pushed your knees to your chest. "You should have seen him that night. I've been so restless these days because I don't know if I've been so reckless with my decisions that I'm worried he'll figure me out sooner or later. I- I know I'm being paranoid, but…"

"While it's good to be wary, especially of witch hunters, you'll only exhaust yourself by worrying. Eventually, that will be the thing that gives you away." She scooted closer to you and held your hand. "I'm not saying to completely trust him, but it also wouldn't do you good if you think he's hiding in every shadow in the corner. Especially if it's come to a point where even he has noticed it."

You sighed again. "You're stating the obvious again…"

"You say it's obvious, and yet you don't seem to notice that."

"Oh, be quiet." Despite your words, you still found yourself laughing. Her warning was obvious, and you had repeated it to yourself several times already, but it still helped. Perhaps because it was coming from her.

At least you still had a place where you didn't feel alone. At least you still had Aglaea.

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#phainon x reader #hsr x reader #phainon #honkai star rail #hsr #phainon x y/n #phainon x you #hsr phainon x reader #phainon hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr phainon #phainon honkai star rail #phainon hsr #⤷ written in water

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koipudding · 17 days ago

Text

the red string of fate following you in every universe, always leading to the new phainon of that cycle. But the flame reaver remembers your touch. remembers your kindness.

In the first few thousand cycles, Khaslana reaches you first. Gives you love and warmth but always loses you to some unyielding power in the end. maybe that’s why, in the later cycles, when his body corrodes… he tries to get to you first, ending your life before greater crises cause you harm… it’s his way of protecting you.

this sets the new phainon onto the flame chase, sending the world into perpetual motion, never ceasing.

#phainon x reader #khaslana x reader #flame reaver #cw violence #hsr x reader #hsr angst #phainon angst #phainon hsr x reader #phainon

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geminorvm · 1 month ago

Text

sunkissed || Phainon

Summary:

The warmth of the sun is a wonderful thing, yet, you have to be careful to not get burned. So, keep your distance and enjoy it from afar. That's what you tell yourself when you come face to face with seemingly the reincarnation of the sun: Phainon.

Wordcount: 22.5k

Read on AO3 Side-Stories: 1

Pairing:

Phainon / f!Reader

Tags/CW:

sfw, shoujo au, gendered terms as reader is fem (such as girlfriend, cute, pretty), possibly ooc Phainon, strangers to friends to lovers, awkward situations (attempted blackmail), reconciliation, reader and phainon both love shoujo manga, i'm glazing orv in this one <3, accident during class, slight miscommunication, phainon literally forcing you to accept his help, silly antics (might be cringe depending on who you ask), study sessions (one time with his friends, one time just with him), reader affectionately bullies phainon, forced proximity, sun and moon mentions, reader slowly falls in love with him and realizes it much later, implied he falls first (she falls hard), putting some distance to avoid heartbreak, shopping arc, teasing of friends about it, implied social anxiety, phainon cares so much and helps with everything, puppy coded ofc, so much touching each other, confession in the rain, him giving reader his hoodie, handholding, borderline flirting, trying to keep the relationship lowkey but failing, mainly bc phainon is like That, so many hugs, cheek and forehead kisses with tension, movie date, clinging to each other during a horror movie, first kiss! and many kisses, this is fluff on fluff idk, this is just multiple scenes put together idk

Note:

this is a sfw and thus i dont mind minors interacting, but please, don't follow me, i post way too much nsfw and dc to be comfortable with that don't ask me anything, i dont know what this is supposed to be, this took way too much time, enjoy!

They tell you, do not directly look into the sun. Do not look directly into its radiance as its sheer splendor might end up hurting you, will end up hurting you. As a little kid, you didn’t quite understand why. Why would the sun bring you pain? Surely, it only wants to bring you warmth and light, surely it doesn’t truly mean you or anyone else any harm. Yet, despite scepticism, you listened and never dared to point your gaze directly onto the sun, simply enjoying its gifts from afar as one should, never close enough to feel more than its presence, never close enough to feel its touch, its kiss on your skin.

And you continue to listen to this piece of advice throughout your life. Never look directly into the sun. That’s what you follow, and that’s what you’re still doing as you avoid looking at the person standing in front of you.

Phainon Khaslana.

The personification of the sun. Someone who shines incredibly bright and is even warmer to everyone he ever sets his eyes on. Yet, being the sun means the chance of getting burned if you happen to get too close to him, the chance of getting hurt by these innocent rays of his. Especially because you doubt anyone has ever seen him without the same kind smile gracing his beautiful face. Not that you would know or have paid any attention, as you have been careful to avoid staring at him every single one of the few times you happen to cross paths with him. And until now, there truly never was a reason for you to see him in the first place; different classes, different social circles, entirely different lives. In a way, the two of you are akin to parallel lines; never meant to intersect under any normal circumstances.

Yet, here you are, standing directly in front of the famous golden boy. The one some even call ‘Deliverer’ because he’s that one person who will always help you in times of need, no matter the place or the time. Something you have never considered even taking advantage of, you don’t need his help, as you’d rather rack your brain by yourself to find a proper solution on your own than rely on some apparently reliable stranger. If this were such a situation, you would refuse his help without a second thought. But this isn’t such a situation. None of you want help or offer help. You’re here by sheer misfortune.

Classes change every year, the students mixing and mingling with different people every time, and it’s the norm to constantly have someone else by your side in the seating arrangement. And the school is big with multiple classes for each year, so, you really expected to never come face to face with him during your time at this school, the mere chance of ever meeting infinitesimal. Yet, this smallest of possibilities prevailed and came true. Phainon is in the same class as you. Which in itself wouldn’t be a big deal. You could simply ignore his presence as you beam your focus on more important stuff, such as classes and the stories you love to read. Something possible, something you could easily pull through.

If it weren’t for the fact that he’s right next to you, that he’s getting ready to take over the seat right next to yours.

You press your lips together in a tight line and turn towards your own desk to set your space accordingly. While doing so, you make sure to inconspicuously move your place as far away from him as the seating arrangement allows you to. This is the only thing you could do at the moment, as even exchanging seats with another person could prove difficult. Your homeroom teacher has forbidden it from the start to avoid any complications and fights. Probably because of your deskmate. You wouldn’t be surprised if many desired to sit next to him and would give up anything for this privilege. The amount of bribes you could have collected just for giving up your seat to someone might go beyond your expectations. But alas, this situation is unavoidable and you end up losing even your imaginary treats.

Finally settling into your chair, you feel his eyes on you, almost like Phainon is waiting for you to say anything to him. But you don’t. You remain steadfast and instead direct your gaze towards the window to look outside or towards your open notebooks spread in front of you.

Even during the ongoing classes, he continues to be relentless, his glances landing on you too often to attribute it to mere coincidence, and all you could do is furrow your eyebrows to radiate as much negative energy out of you as possible. A clear sign to leave you alone.

Which doesn’t seem to work, because the moment the bell for the break sounds, Phainon begins to turn towards you, his mouth opening with the usual smile.

“They, pa–”

Before he could even get the second word out of his mouth, much less the whole greeting, you bolt out of your seat and leave the classroom with long strides, careful to not run and to attract any attention that way. Briefly glancing behind you, you notice how some people have started gathering around him, thus blocking his way if he ever intends to run after you. Which you doubt, because who would run behind a stranger in the first place. But if he happens to be such a weirdo, you would be long gone and tucked away in the crowd of students before he could even get the chance to look for you.

You’re glad you got to get away in time, because you cannot imagine sitting there, practically surrounded by a horde of people chatting up a storm at Phainon while he simply entertains them. It would frankly grate on your nerves, so you may have to give them a nasty look in the future if it never truly abates and they continuously overstay their welcome.

You use this short break to get some fresh air and to stretch your legs with a small walk, only getting back to the classroom just as the second bell rings to signify the end of said break. As you take your seat and pull out the materials necessary for the next class, you’re aware that you simply cannot do this every single break for the rest of the school year. But you’re prepared to do so for some time until Phainon gets the hint. If he ever does. Your peaceful last year practically hinges on him understanding social clues. Which he should know, right? Considering how well he gets along with everyone to ever exist.

With this temporary plan, you return to your daily school life. At least that’s what you wanted. A normal day, no distractions, just getting through the day without any turbulence. Not whatever is happening right now. You barely understand the current situation as it is.

It’s your routine to visit the library regularly. For various reasons; to rest in some peace and quiet, to study, to read the newest book you have been eagerly awaiting for some time, among other things. So, naturally, you have been spending more time there as a means to escape the borderline poisonous rays of sunshine Phainon gives off. That was the plan; to get away from his proximity and to calm yourself down with the presence of your beloved books and stories.

But it seems as if the library itself is plotting against you. Because why else would you spy on Phainon through the gaps between the books on the shelves. There’s truly no reason for you to peek into what he’s reading. Besides the possible blackmail material, of course.

Well, to be honest, that is your entire reason. If you had something to hold above his head, then he might possibly back off your back a little. And it would be fun to see him squirming every time you shoot him a look with the threat clear in your eyes.

You squint and try to look over his shoulders onto what he’s currently holding between his hands. And while doing so, you internally curse his build, because why are his shoulders so broad, there’s literally no reason for them to be so filled out with muscles. You think you might even see as the shirt is straining with the smallest movements. But there’s no time to grumble about his massive size and possible strength, because you just managed to catch a glimpse of the book he’s reading. Just one page, but that’s more than enough, as you’ve recognized it. Phainon is reading something unfitting for someone like him, he’s reading a shoujo manga.

Reading a shoujo manga in itself isn’t such a big deal. You yourself are quite the enjoyer of shoujo. But for someone like him? This could easily tarnish the reputation he has built for himself. With this piece of information, you can easily expose him to everyone in this school and watch as he falls from grace with just one word of yours. Just the mere thought of him shutting up every time he remembers what you have on him, brings you inner peace.

With a satisfied grin, you tiptoe away from your watching place and out of the library. You’re already wondering how soon you can use your new weapon to your advantage.

Surprisingly, it did take some time until you actually decided to use this warning – it’s not blackmail, just a simple warning, you’re warning him against possible repercussions –, because for the first couple of days, you have taken on regular walks either on your own or with some friends to use this time to catch up with each other, all outside of his reach. And for some time, it seemed to you as if Phainon had begun to give up, because each time you slip away, his movements grew slower and more reluctant, until you didn’t have to hurry out of the classroom before he caught you. So, of course, at some point you thought it might be alright to just stay inside instead of getting away immediately; a chance to change it up and to read something in peace at your designated place.

Ignoring the couple of people still swarming around Phainon – not without giving them a glare beforehand, though – you pull out your current reading and tap into the next chapter on your phone. You give the group one last glance before you focus your mind entirely on the familiar pages, the words in front of you drowning out their incessant chatter. Despite the noise, you feel comfortable and at ease, enjoying how the story is unfolding before your very eyes.

You were so entranced in the writing before you, you almost missed the way Phainon has started to look at you, now that the people around him have left. You’re not sure if you can call them his friends. For some reason he doesn’t give you the feeling of truly trusting them if you compare it to his other friends from other classes such as Mydei and Aglea. Every time he’s with one of them, he seems to glow in an entirely different way. It’s akin to comparing the shine of the sun to the twinkle of a bright star. Entirely different categories.

That’s something you have noticed, as for a year, Phainon and Mydei were in one class together, and apparently there was never a boring day with them around. Which would honestly suck for you, because you’d rather have a relaxing day than worry about two people almost starting fights every single day. But these days, in addition to the kindness they apparently show everyone, are the reason why both of them are immensely popular in the student body.

Not that you cared. Popularity is something you have no use for, something fleeting and dependent on the whims of other people. To be loved by everyone is to be loved by none, in some way. Because how do you truly know who actually likes you and who likes you for what you stand for. But that’s honestly not your problem. It’s his. And it seems like he’s grown accustomed to it.

Still, all these thoughts of yours won’t stop him from staring at you like he’s waiting to be noticed by his crush. So, with a sigh, you lower your phone just enough to look at him. Only to be immediately blinded by the boyish grin he gives you. Even as you’re squinting and frowning, you understand why people are so drawn to him. He truly gives the vibe of the perfect boyfriend, the perfect friend, the perfect partner, and so on and so forth. Still, you can’t be helped but be tempted to turn towards your phone and return to ignoring him completely. But alas, Phainon is not deterred by your facial expressions and begins to talk to you.

“Hey, partner. Finally, I get to have a chat with you! I’m–”

“I know, I know. You’re no stranger to me or to anyone else, Deliverer,” you roll your eyes, keen on ending the conversation as soon as possible, so, you immediately take out your sharpest weapon.

“Can you lean a little closer, though? Wanna tell you something real quick.”

Without question, Phainon complies until you two are almost cheek to cheek, but just far enough to avoid feeling the heat he radiates directly on your skin, just a whisper of it.

“Listen, Khaslana. I’d hate to do that, really, but lowkey, you don’t give me much of a choice here, partner,” you imitate the name he has given you in mockery. “But for some reason, you don’t seem to get the hint, so I'm gonna make sure it sits nice and tight, yeah?”

A pause, a tiny nod.

“You surely don’t want everyone to know that you read shoujo manga, do you? Because it might be better if you back off a little and give me my space. Just so you know.”

With that done, you straighten up to put some distance between you and raise your phone to continue perusing where you have left off. You don’t particularly care about his reaction, but from his silence, you reckon your warning – not a threat or blackmail – has worked quite well. It seems that being so high above leads to some scary cliffs at one's feet. You hope he’s more carefully about whatever he does in the future, or at least be prepared to fall from grace in one sudden fell swoop.

Either way, this isn’t your business, and you have gotten rid of yet another nuisance in life.

But it looks like life doesn’t ever go according to your plans.

Nothing beats an outing with friends. Something simple yet filled with immense joy. That’s what this was supposed to be, going out with your friends, being silly and hitting some places to chill and chat. So, you don’t quite understand why you’re in your current situation.

The group consisting of you and your friends happened to meet another familiar group at the karaoke. And now, they have decided to hang out together, because one big room is apparently cheaper than two separate ones. Which isn’t a bad idea. The bad thing actually is the fact that the group consists of Phainon’s friends and him. You couldn’t even come up with an excuse to disappear in some hole in the ground before everyone rushed into the big rented room to share. In which, for some unfortunate reason, you happen to accidentally sit right by his side.

You fidget with your fingers while stubbornly refusing to look towards him, the awkwardness choking the life and relaxation out of you. How could you face Phainon after practically threatening him? Yes, you admit, it wasn’t just a simple warning but straight-up blackmail, something no one in their right mind would do. You doubt you could ever have a proper and normal conversation after all of this.

Watching your friends sing one by one, you rack your brain to think of a reason to immediately leave. A reason your friends would actually believe. Because they know you and your tendency to say anything to slip away and have with time grown a sense for these white lies of yours. So, that means you can’t just say anything.

Deep in your thoughts, you almost flinch when Phainon stands up to readily take his turn, his laughter as he takes the microphone drilling into your head like the most beautiful melody. And you wonder if he can sing well with his soft and smooth voice. Only to practically get flashbanged by his performance.

He’s an awkward singer, acting like he’s putting in the effort but his giggles resound too often throughout the song for that to be truly the case. His voice does sound nice despite everything, and you feel yourself shiver at the random thought of him whispering in your ear, low and slow. You immediately get rid of this thought, as the thing that truly shocked you the most is his song of choice. It’s the opening for a pretty well-known shoujo anime. Something even people who aren’t particularly fans would be aware of. And Phainon sings it by heart, word for word, not even embarrassed about the song itself, just about his singing skills.

Rather, you’re the one suddenly feeling hot under your skin. You’re absolutely mortified. You can’t believe you have tried to threaten him with something he’s so open about. It seems like you have humiliated yourself for no reason, and he was kind enough to allow you this childish behaviour.

The moment the song is over and everyone is scrambling around each other, trying to push the other to take over, you take this small chance to slip out of the room. You walk along the hall towards a random vending machine while pressing your hands against your cheeks, trying to get over your embarrassment. Now, you can’t ever look him in the eyes, even less than after your whole spiel at being intimidating; which turned out to be something of a shameful spectacle.

With a sigh and some spare change, you order some random beverage from the vending machine. The coil slowly curls and releases the can before it falls down towards the opening with a clank. You lean down to reach towards it, but someone is way ahead of you and takes your drink into their hand faster than you could reach it. You immediately turn around with a frown pulling at your face.

“Hey, that’s mine–”

And then you bite your tongue. It’s Phainon, and he’s rolling the can between his palms.

“Hey, I saw you leave, is everything alright?”

This question feels like a gut punch. Why is he still kind to you, even after you tried to practically blackmail him for such selfish reasons? How can he care so much despite everything? You can’t believe someone like him actually exists.

You press your lips together and avert your eyes, contemplating if you should tell the truth or avoid the topic entirely. But you’re aware that this happened because of your constant avoidance, you’re aware you can’t run from him anymore, not after this.

So, you pull your shoulders back and raise your head to face him head on. To look him into this stupid face with his stupid big eyes and worried frown, the usual almost-smile missing for once.

“No. Nothing is alright. It’s– It’s getting to me, you know. You being all kind and stuff. Especially after what I’ve done to you, which– which in hindsight is so incredibly embarrassing, and I’m so ashamed… What I mean to say is… I’m sorry…” you blurt, the words which have been stuck in your throat suddenly dislodging at his simple question.

Silence.Nothing but silence and you feel your face grow even hotter, something you didn’t know was even possible. Yet, you persist and keep holding eye contact with him, even if every cell in your body is screaming at you to look away, to run away.

For a moment, he just keeps looking at you as if there are many thoughts running through his head, which all need to be considered before he even begins answering you. And you worry. You worry that he might refuse you completely, that he might not want to try with you anymore – which would be understandable, who would want to be friends with someone who blackmails them –. you worry about fleeting stuff, the consequences and many other incoherent stuff, even to your own brain. Yet, all of that is more than enough to make your heart clench and tense.

You’re not quite sure why you’re worried. If Phainon dislikes you, wouldn’t you have achieved your goal in getting him to leave you alone? But to you, that doesn’t matter anymore. This whole situation feels incredibly silly and childish to you and it’s your fault. And you genuinely feel bad. Despite your own feelings, you are ready to understand and accept his refusal of your apology. Your actions are incomprehensible, sometimes even to you; you can’t expect him to get it when you yourself might not.

Suddenly, something cool presses against your cheek. ““Everything’s cool, don’t worry, I totally get it.”

“Huh? You do?”

“Well, yes. I’m aware of what the people talk about me, even if it doesn’t seem like it. And you wanted to avoid the crowd that comes with it,” he shrugs, as if it’s just something that happens. “I do wish that we could’ve instead talked about our favorite shoujo’s instead, but we can do that now, can’t we?” A smile pulls on his lips, genuine, instead of the one he wears around strangers.

You bite the inside of your cheek, still on the fence and still in disbelief that it was this easy. But your guilty conscience prevails and you don’t have it in your heart to refuse him after he accepted your apology just like that. So, with a sigh, one of relief but also in surrender, you nod. “Sure, we can do that, whatever.”

“Great! Now, let’s get back.” Phainon wraps his fingers loosely around your wrist, enough to give you the chance to free yourself if needed, before dragging you back to the karaoke room. All while starting a conversation about manga as if you’ve been friends for a long time.

And with that, you understand why he’s so beloved to everyone. He truly is like the sun that warms your skin and your soul, blinding you only with his pure heart.

Laughter bubbles up your chest as you enter the room following him. You only pause to close the door behind you, only to accidentally trap your own fingers between the frame and the edge of it. Whatever you were saying gets choked up in a small hiss as you shake your reddening hand. With the other you wave everyone who’s looking towards you off.

“Nothing happened. Was just clumsy, don’t worry about it.”

Yet, when you sit back in your place, Phainon takes your hurt hand in his and presses a cool can against the aching spot. “You have to take care of yourself, alright?”

“It’s no big deal, really,” you smile with some hesitancy, still in some way unsure how to properly act towards him, but you have decided to keep yourself open to everything.

He opens his mouth, his eyes suddenly serious, but before he could actually retort something, his friend, Mydei, you remember, calls him over, and soon the two of them are interlocked in a challenge of their own doing.

You sigh as you lean back and decide to simply enjoy the rest of the day, pushing your worries aside for the moment, pushing the inevitable awkwardness aside for today.

The bell resounds, notifying everyone about lunch time. And instead of rushing out like you’ve grown used to, you allow yourself a minute to slump over your table and to release the tension in your back and neck. Now that you have to worry about Phainon, in more than one way, your heart feels lighter, unburdened. It seems like the dark life of blackmail and threats is not meant for you.

Peace of mind and peace of heart. Peace in general. Or so you hoped.

“Hey, do you want to eat lunch together?” you hear Phainon ask and raise your head slightly to look in his direction. Only to see how he’s laying over his arms and already at the same height of you, eyes meeting yours directly.

You push your lips slightly forward, pondering. In truth, you’re inclined to decline and to spend your lunch either alone tucked away in some corner with eyes glued to a story, or with friends if they happen to be here. But at the same time, there’s some lingering guilt heavy in your chest and you can’t just go back to being mean to him with your whole being. So, there’s only one answer, really.

With a sigh, you nod. “Sure, why not. But! I decide where to go.”

Without even pausing to consider your condition, he immediately answers. “Sure! Let’s go then!”

His bright smile – almost like he’s happy and even excited that you have agreed to eat lunch and to spend time with him – blinds you and you look away, acting as if you need to look for your lunch, rummaging through your bag, even if you know exactly where your food is located at. It’s just that you need to have a moment to prepare yourself mentally. Because you still don’t know how you’re supposed to spend lunch with him without going blind in all earnest.

After intense mental preparation (as in, imagining a solar eclipse, which obscures the absurd amount of sunshine he gives off at all times), you stand up with your lunch in hand and lead the way out. And instead of going to the cafeteria – there’s no way you’re going there, a place filled with students, with the Deliverer himself, you don’t have a death wish –. you climb the stairs until you reach the highest floor, a small area in front of the doors to the open roof. For a moment, you contemplate if you really should go out there with Phainon, or if you should keep it safe and stay in this small space.

But before you could come to a decision on your own, Phainon has already reached for the door and is holding it open for you, an almost mischievous grin on his lips.

“What are you waiting for? C’mon!”

You raise your eyebrows but don’t say anything, instead you just step out to the roof with a small ‘thanks’ towards him. With quick and decisive steps, you make your way to the perfect corner, one where you’re in the shade, have a nice view of the field far away and hidden enough to avoid getting caught immediately. He takes a seat by your side and pulls out his own lunch.

For some time, you both eat in silence, and you’re not quite sure if you’re enjoying it or if you’re actually feeling awkward. So, even if you’re not the biggest conversationalist, you put your brain through the wringer, trying to come up with a topic to talk with him about, something that couldn’t sour the mood, something normal–

“So, what are you reading currently?” Phainon beats you to the punch with a question of his own. And you realize with that that the powers of an extrovert cannot be topped no matter what.

“Uhm, well, it’s–,” you tell him the name and immediately follow up with a small summary.

It seems like he hasn’t read that particular shoujo, but he has read other ones, and soon, you’re exchanging names and favorites and recommendations. And if you happen to discover one you both have read and enjoyed, the conversation quickly delves into your favorite scenes and characters and their developments and so much more.

“Man, I love shoujo. But I can’t lie to you, my ultimate favorite thing I’ve ever read is something called ‘Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint. It’s so peak, absolute masterpiece. I actually need you to read it immediately.”

“Oh, I know of it. I think it’s even on my to read list. I guess this is a sign to start it now.”

“Yes! Absolutely, you’re not going to regret it, I promise. It’s soo good.”

In your excitement, you almost grab him to shake him, but instead of doing that, you just bump your fist in the air. And soon you devolve into an explanation of why ORV is the height of literature and Phainon only watches you with a small giggle, your excitement infectious.

Lunch is over sooner than you expected, and with it your reading list expanded with new interesting prospects. The conversation between you and Phainon doesn’t halt just yet, it continues until you’re both at your seats, small whispers even when the teacher steps into the room to start the next class, until you both get reprimanded for talking and finally stay silent. But not without exchanging glances with a giddy grin.

This short amount of time has changed a lot, and you only now begin to notice the warmth that spreads through you at his smile and at his words once it’s gone and left you cold. You realize why people tend to get attached to him so quickly. Phainon truly brings joy and sunshine with him wherever he goes with such ease. The Deliverer, the Sun. All of it makes sense the more you get to know him. You’re glad that everything had happened and you ended up friends with him (Even if you’re not sure what qualifies as his friend, but colleague or classmate just doesn’t hit the right spot, so you settle on ‘friend’; at least in your head).

A ball draws an arch in the air with a small whistle before it lands with a thump against the backboard of the basketball hoop. A cheer goes through the people sitting at the edge of the playfield and you join the excitement, high-fiving the girl who has made that amazing shot. There’s nothing better than the adrenaline of a game of basketball during your PE class. Frankly, you love the simplicity of it. The drilling, the throws, the blocks, the passes. It’s just the right amount of taxing and fun. And it’s an amazing bonding experience with the girls of your and of the other classes.

Soon, you’ve landed in the middle of the playing field, the very same ball now flying towards you. With tense muscles you receive the pass and immediately turn around towards the hoop. A jump, a shot. And no one in sight to block its way towards the set goal. A clank as it hits the backboard, the hoop, before it fully falls into the net.

Your lips spread into a triumphant grin, and you feel your feet hit the ground. And then suddenly, you’re laying on the ground with a throbbing ankle. With a groan you slowly sit up and clutch your ankle, the skin beginning to feel hot and to swell under your touch.

A group is already swarming around you, asking about your wellbeing and fretting over the obvious injury. You begin to swat them away lightheartedly.

“I’m fine, it looks worse than it feels, believe me,” you assure them and scramble your body parts to try and stand up again. And despite your words, every move shoots pain through your ankle and you have to grit your teeth to stay quiet through it all.

You swallow before setting your injured foot onto the ground, readying yourself to put some weight onto it. But before you could do so, the ground completely disappears from underneath you.

“H-huh?”

Straightening your head, you see that someone has grabbed you, slipping their arm underneath your knees and back. And you reflexively have put your arms around their neck. You immediately look up and have to blink a couple of times. It’s Phainon.

“W-wait, I can walk fine on my own!” you squirm in his grasp, but his hold on you is firm.

He barely glances at you as he makes his way through the crowd, calling: “Excuse me, teacher, I’m going to get her to the infirmary.”

“Hey, listen to me, I can walk! Let me down!” you shake his shoulder while he’s walking through the halls with you in his arms.

And finally, he looks down at you, a furrow buried between his eyebrows. “I won’t because you can’t walk. You can’t lie about these things without good reason. And you obviously don’t have one.”

The way he looks at you – not necessarily anger, but rather worry and some form of disappointment – shuts you up immediately and you stop your resistance entirely.

Due to his long strides, it doesn’t take long until you arrive at the infirmary. Only, when Phainon enters the room with you in his arms, the place seems to be empty, the nurse gone for the moment, probably on a small break or something.

He carefully helps you sit down onto the free bed, and instead of waiting for the nurse to come back, he begins to rummage around the cabinets, pulling some random stuff out of them one by one. After it seems like he has gotten everything he needs, Phainon returns to you with his hands full of medical aid. They clatter onto the small table by the side of the bed and he takes a chair to sit right front of you, before grabbing your injured foot. Diligently, he takes off your shoe and sock, and you feel the heat rush to your face at the sudden touches and the sudden exposing of skin. You don’t have the time to stop him and to insist on doing it on your own before he’s already done and pressing an icing pack on your swollen ankle. You hiss but don’t move.

“Uhm, you– you don’t have to do that, I can do it on my own…” you try to push his hand away and take over.

But Phainon doesn’t budge. Instead, he grabs a compression bandage and starts wrapping it around the ankle to secure the icing bag properly in place.

“You can do it on your own, I know that. But you can allow yourself to be taken care of by other people, too, you know?” he murmurs as he cuts the bandage and attaches the end with tape so everything is fixed where it’s supposed to.

He stands up and puts some cushions underneath the ankle to elevate it. “I’m going to get the nurse,” he doesn’t give you time to say anything before he leaves the room.

An uncomfortable feeling is squirming in your chest. You have never seen Phainon act like this, and in some way it scares you. You’ve grown used to seeing him smile and bring laughter in his presence, one of pure radiance. And now, now he seemed different, seemed like he lost his spark, like he doesn’t even want to bring the usual sunshine with him in your presence. You’re aware that this is your own fault, you have pushed him away over and over again, and now you reap the consequences of your own actions.

You should be happy. This is what you have wanted, isn’t it? Peace and quiet, no relations or interactions with Phainon at all. Even if you’re not on bad terms anymore. That would be the ideal situation for you, a neutral stance and barely any contact to keep your peace.

And yet, your chest is tight and your eyes sting, and you cannot explain to yourself why this might be. So, you only curl over yourself, clutching your own body with your arms, as you wait for the nurse to finally release you from your own thoughts.

As it turns out, your injury was more than a simple twisted ankle. It’s a pulled ligament, and now you have to use crutches for the foreseeable future. Which honestly sucks, how are you supposed to get anywhere like this. Especially if your school is just filled with staircases. You might as well be locked into the classroom instead.

With a sigh, you begin your slow ascend. The school is still empty, because it’s way too early to be here, but you anticipated that it might take you some time to actually get to the intended floor. Still, you curse the reality of the classrooms of the graduation year being all the way to the top of the building. It just doesn’t make sense, especially not if you have to suffer like that.

Suddenly, you feel the weight of your backpack disappear and you halt your climb to look around in confusion. It’s attached to your arms, there’s no way you just dropped it, that would be silly and stupid. But the answer springs into your eyes immediately, as you are met with a broad chest directly in your view, and you have to look up to meet with Phainon’s eyes. His hand has grabbed the handle of your bag and has lifted it just enough to release its weight from your body.

You blink a couple of times. “Uh, good morning..?”

His eyes jump to your bandaged ankle and then back to your face. “Good morning, partner. Looks like the injury was not something you could do on your own after all, huh?” He takes a crutch from your grasp to release the straps from your shoulders, one after the other, all while making sure you’re still balanced and safe.

You push your lips forward in a frown. “Listen, how was I to know that it was this bad.”

He chuckles and then your bag is in his hold before you even notice it to be gone. “C’mon, let’s get you situated.”

“Hey, that’s my bag. What are you doing,” you hobble after him in a hurry, but he makes sure to always stay just far enough to avoid your reach. But there’s something he doesn’t seem to have accounted for when he made this nefarious plan of his.

“Ow! What was that?”

You grin and aim your crutch towards him, aiming for the next spot. “Vengeance.”

“That’s not the definition for venge– ow! Will you stop that?”

“You’re such a nerd. I will stop when my needs are sated.”

“Oh?” With a couple of steps, Phainon is upon you, trapping you between himself and the wall. You feel his breath warm against your face, his body overwhelming you with presence alone, and you swallow.

You allow yourself to look up and you immediately meet his eyes, blazing and yet shadowed by something. A grin is spreading over his face, and you feel blinded. This makes you realize how pretty he is, even from this usually unflattering angle. Your heart beats fast in your chest and for some reason you feel nervous and hot.

“You can’t do anything now, can you?” Phainon whispers and you almost shiver. Only to realize he means that you can’t use your crutches anymore because of the small distance between you. The space between you is barely there, his body is way too close to yours and you feel his heat radiating off of him, and it makes your insides squirm. You’re not sure if you find it to be pleasant or not, but it’s getting too much too quickly for your brain for sure.

“I thought you were mad at me,” you suddenly blurt out the first thing on your mind.

Oh, oh, damn it. That is obviously the wrong thing to say, why would you just mention it now out of all times.

A sigh and his overwhelming presence disappears, as Phainon takes a couple of steps back. His hand drives through his hair.

“I– I’m not angry at you. It’s just… It’s just, I wish you would take better care of yourself, you know? I’m aware, it’s not your fault, but your consequent behaviour was– was not how someone reacts to being hurt like that… just that…”

“Oh… Uhm… Okay… I’m sorry?”

“No, no, don’t apologize to me, just– just promise me you would take better care of yourself, okay?”

You swallow and blink a couple of times. That’s something nobody else has ever asked of you, you didn’t even know that it seemed that grievous from another perspective. And usually, you would not make any promises, as promises mean a certain amount of trust between the two parties. But Phainon is looking at you like a kicked puppy, shoulders slumped, eyes big, lips pushed forward into a frown. You can’t do anything but relent at this sight.

“Fine, I promise… whatever,” you sigh and roll your eyes dramatically.

A smile immediately appears back on his face and his posture regains vigor. “Amazing! Let’s go, then.” He continues on his way towards the classroom, your bag still in hand.

“Hey, wait up, you’re stupidly tall, what the hell,” you call out as you jump on one foot to catch up to him.

Luckily, he does slow down and walk by your side at your own pace. You grumble.

“Couldn’t you have done that from the beginning?”

“Do what?”

“Walk at the same speed as me!” You raise your crutch and he raises his hands protectively over his body.

“Okay, okay, sorry, sorry. It was just too fun watching you fumble around,” he giggles.

“Funny? FUNNY? Oh, you’re going to get it, Deliverer.”

You try to punch through his defenses, but he’s way too proficient in dodging every single one of your attacks, and you lose your breath before he even allows a gap in his protection.

Acting as if nothing happened, you turn around and continue walking down the hall, huffing and puffing about him. Despite the hurried tempo you have taken on, it merely takes Phainon a small jog to catch up to you, his face practically glowing with a wide smile. Oh, how you wish to wipe that stupid grin off his face. But there’s nothing you can do, nothing you can beat him in. He has won.

With a defeated groan, you slump over your table. You have nothing on him, not even your grades. You joke about him being a nerd, but Phainon is in fact at the top of the class consistently, there’s no way you could win in that matter. And anything physical is a no-go, you’re aware of his build and stature, he’s nothing but lean muscle, and you’re obviously injured, not that you being on top of your game would have made much of a difference anyway.

You gaze out of the window, only startling when the teacher mentions mock exams. There’s still enough time for the real ones, but it’s better to be prepared, so they’re pushing out multiple mock exams in regular intervals. You suppress a groan, how are you supposed to study under these circumstances.

Then, you perk up. They say, to beat your enemy, join them. Slowly, you rip a piece of paper and scribble something in a hurry before you nudge Phainin and slide it over to him. He takes it and reads it intently, as if it’s something important. Then, he begins to write something on his own and pushes it back to you.

You take it back and look at what he responded. But the first thing you notice is that his writing is insanely elegant. What an unfair world you live in. You huff before focusing again on the actual content.

‘Yeah, we can study together :)’

Pumping your fist in your mind, you show him a thumbs up. You’re going to destroy him using his own methods.

“Ughhh, I can’t do this anymoreee,” you whine and your limp and heavy head falls onto your open book. You don’t even know what the current subject is, you’re tired and hungry and thirsty. This is torture.

“Oh, are you tired? Do you want something sweet?” a kind, soft voice asks you and you glance to the side.

It’s Castorice. And she’s offering you a glucose candy. You purse your lips and nod slightly before taking it with a thanks.

While letting the sugary treat melt in your mouth, you allow yourself to look around the table. Phainon has invited his whole friend group and everyone is huddled together in a study room. You wish he at least told you beforehand that it’s going to be a bigger group, then you wouldn’t have been as surprised as you were when you walked in on them, stumbling and almost breaking your face. You really can’t afford to break your face. It might be your last saving grace, considering how stupid you currently feel.

This was supposed to be a studying session, to study, to learn things for class. But it turns out, everyone in this group is way ahead of the curriculum, and currently discussing things you cannot even begin to comprehend. So, not only do you feel dumb, you also feel almost left out. If it weren’t for the lovely Castorice, you would truly be sitting in a corner, sulking. You decided to ignore Phainon for the rest of your life. Revenge is not worth it, you should focus on more important things. Such as–

“Cas, let’s run away together!” you say with a dramatic flair, akin to asking her to elope with you, and take her hand and press it to your chest.

She giggles softly. “I would love to, but we really should study. It’s going to be good for us later.”

Castorice talks as if she’s on the same level as you, when you’re so keenly aware that you’re the one who desperately needs to study, not her. Like the rest, she’s on top of her game. You groan but relent.

“Fine, whatever. I’m doing this just for you, though.”

You throw a dirty look in Phainon’s direction, but he’s too busy arguing about some technicality with Mydei. Their words are nothing but a disarray of technical terminology. Still, you see your chance, your chance to do something instead of worrying over your boring and headache-inducing studies.

“I agree with Mydei,” you disrupt their discussion with your own opinion, albeit worthless because you have no idea what the topic even is, just that they’re both on two different sides, and nothing else matters. Because that way, you can get under Phainon’s skin. If you can’t win in any facet of life, you can at least make his much more annoying.

“You do?” Phainon asks and whips his head towards you, eyes wide and eyebrows slightly furrowed.

You glance towards Mydei, who’s looking at you with a slight frown, almost like he can’t comprehend why you’re interfering in their intellectual fight. Then, you nod.

“Well, yes. His arguments ring true, if you look at it from a different basis and multiple perspectives. You have to take apart the implications and understand how they work together. So, he makes total sense.”

None of the things you have uttered have sense or reason. You’ve just jumbled some random words together to seem like you understand the topic completely, which you don’t, but that’s not something these two have to know at the moment.

Your words seem to have some effect, because they both sit in silence and seem to ruminate over the implications and consequences of your opinion. Which again, in truth amounts to exactly nothing. But maybe they can make some rhyme out of nothing. Smart people are a whole league of their own.

For a moment, you keep a straight face, trying to uphold this facade of seriousness. But seeing them actually ponder so deeply about your nonsense inevitably makes you break and you giggle. Then you make eye contact with Aglea and Castorice, which both have caught up faster than the two boys. And you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore, bursting out in laughter.

“For a nerd you’re pretty stupid, aren’t you,” you wheeze between breaths.

Only then does it seem to sink in and they both huff, one with a broader smile than the other, but amusement clear in both.

“This is what you get for dragging me, a normal person, to a meeting of geniuses,” you press your fist against his arm and push him slightly.

He sways and holds his arm dramatically, as if you have punched him with true force. “My heart dropped from your betrayal, how could you!”

“Hey, I can’t lie to you, I will always side with Mydei on everything,” you turn towards Mydei and show him a thumbs-up with a wink. He only clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. You honestly take that as his approval. Despite his gruff facade, Mydei is much more emotionally mature than people give him credit for, even if you still struggle with reading his micro-expressions.

Phainon gasps in shock. “I think I just felt my heart break in a thousand pieces!”

Laughter and bickering continued to fill the room until it started getting late. And as you probably need more time to get home due to your current disposition, you pack your things and decide to leave a bit earlier than the others.

“Wait, I’m joining you,” Phainon hurries with his own stuff, scrambling and fumbling with everything and you watch him with a small chuckle, but you don’t tell him that he can take his time, enjoying his reaction to a little time pressure.

Soon, he steps up to you and stretches his hand towards you. There’s no way he’s asking to hold your hand, you need to walk with your crutches, still, so what exactly does he want? With this question written all over your face, you look from his palm to his face.

“Your bag, please.”

You sigh. At this point, you’re aware that he’s going to get your bag either way – the amount of times your stuff disappeared only to be in his grasp during the school day is almost outrageous –, so it might be for the best to just surrender peacefully. So, you shrug it off your shoulders and allow him to take it off of you and to sling it over his own shoulder. The clash of colors and aesthetics is funny and you giggle at this sight.

Finally ready to go, you both leave the room with a loud goodbye and walk towards the exit. This time, he makes sure to walk at your pace. It seems he has learned his lesson and does not seek the wrath of your sticks.

The two of you walk towards the station chatting about anything and nothing. And as it happens, you take the train into the same direction as him. So, you end up squeezing yourself with him into the full car. There wasn’t any place for you to sit, so you tried to lean against a post to hold your balance. If necessary, you would step onto your injured foot, as you’d rather do that than fall down completely.

Suddenly, one of your crutches is gone and the lack of support makes you sway dangerously. But before you could either land on your foot or drop onto the ground, you feel a warm hand around your waist stabilizing you quickly.

“Ah, sorry, I thought you would notice, should’ve warned you beforehand,” Phainon apologizes and you imagine he would rub his neck if both of his hands weren’t occupied by holding either the post or you. “You can put your arm around me to hold yourself.”

You open your mouth, ready to retort something, maybe a refusal even, but the train begins to shake before the words even form in your brain and you reflexively clutch his shirt for some hold, your whole body practically falling against Phainon. Against your own will. And normally, you would immediately put some distance between you and laugh it off, but at the moment such moves were effectively impossible. You practically have to depend on him this very moment with no other way out of it, your body can’t handle the turmoil by itself even if you wanted to.

So, you embrace the situation, even if you keep your body stiff, trying to ignore the warmth or broadness of his body. Or how gentle his fingers are against your body. You gulp and feel how shallow your breath has become, how his breath is grazing your forehead.

“Is everything okay?” he asks you, and you could practically hear the frown in his voice. Only, you don’t want to look up, you really shouldn’t look up, there’s no reason for you to look up.

To answer him, you reflexively look up to him. He’s leaning slightly closer to be able to talk to you at a proper volume and you meet his eyes directly, the stunning blue mesmerizing and his breath now warm against your cheeks. You suddenly realize how good he smells, tropical and slightly musky, something you wouldn’t expect of a boy his age. All of these things, his warmth, his soft eyes, his mellow smell, short-circuited your brain and all of your thoughts are gone. Still, you remember to nod, earning yourself a broad smile. One so bright, it feels like burning into your retinas and you almost choke on your own saliva from the ensuing shock.

For your health, you sink your head back down and try to look anywhere else but him. Sadly, due to his frame obscuring a big part of your vision, you end up staring at his shoulder, the most normal part to stare at, opposite to your other choices, which all would have been either weird, risky or hazardous for your health.

In some way, you wouldn’t mind, but being the only one feeling overwhelmed by this situation kind of sucks. But also, you begin to understand the shoujo mangas a little more, this is heart-race-inducing. You open your mouth to mention it to your fellow shoujo-enthusiast, but you remember that if you tell him, you might as well confess that he would be the perfect male lead. There’s no way you’re doing that, that’s ridiculous.

You don’t even like him like that.

You don’t like the way Phainon smiles filled with joy, how he’s able to banter with you at every opportunity, how he’s supportive in his own ways, how he shares your interests, and you definitely don’t like the way he looks. This situation is only affecting you because of the sheer proximity, nothing else.

Nothing else.

Nodding to yourself, you’re finally able to at least breathe a little easier. There’s nothing going on and no reason for you to feel so nervous around him.

The rest of the ride is silent, a comfortable one, both exhausted and not keen on keeping up the conversation; both simply enjoying each other's presence. Soon, you arrive at your stop and you both get off.

“Wait, why are you getting off here? There’s no way this is your stop,” you ask him with a frown.

“That’s true. But I couldn’t just give you your stuff back in an overfilled train, right?”

With this, Phainon helps you put your bag back on, one arm after the other, grasping your fingertips carefully with his to lead you through the handles, before he hands you your missing crutch back.

“Oh, thank you!”

“Now, it’s time to say goodbye. See you tomorrow, partner?” For some reason, his hand pats your head while he smiles.

You nod, trying to ignore the sudden weight on your head, trying to ignore the possible reason for doing so. “See you tomorrow, nerd.”

Waving, you leave the station. But not without looking back at least once. Only to see Phainon not taking the next train, but rather watching as he comes out the other side to take the train towards the opposite direction, towards the direction you both came from.

You frown. There’s no way he made this ride just to join you, right? But there’s nothing else to explain why he’s going back now instead of simply getting out earlier. Maybe that’s why he exited the train with you, to catch the other train instead of continuing the drive needlessly.

Heat rises to your face at the mere notion that Phainon might truly have just wanted to accompany you and spent his time and put in the additional effort into this detour on his way home just for that, just for you.

And, you definitely don’t like him, so there’s no reason for your heart to ache and to race and for your body to get tingly and mushy; there’s no reason for the heat rushing under your skin and for your chest to feel all light and airy. No reason at all.

Day to day life continues. And the endless pestering of Phainon continues. But you truly have grown to enjoy his company, even if the teachers have started to scold you more and more, because he just keeps making you laugh. Which is ridiculous in itself. Why would you constantly feel the urge to laugh and giggle around him? There’s no need for you to do that, but for some mysterious reason he just knows how to tickle that certain mirth out of you, and every time there’s nothing you would love to do more than to shut him up in one way or another, maybe even hit him to get him to stop. With him around, everything you do feels nonsensical.

And it appears that it can only get worse.

You slip a swear under your breath. “Fuck, I forgot my book.” With a groan, your head hits the desk, before you straighten up again with an absolute genius idea.

“Hey, hey, nerd, hellooooo, listen to me, give me your book. Khaslana, give me your book.”

“No. Our teacher reprimands everyone who forgets their book–”

“I know, it should be you, though. Give me your book.” You stretch towards him and try to snatch the book out of his hands.

He shakes his head and clutches the book tightly against himself. “Why should I? It’s your own fault for forgetting the book.”

“Uhm, maybe because I deserve it? Because I entertain all of that,” you point at him.

“You just pointed at all of me?”

“Exactly. Aren’t you a smart puppy? Now, give it to me!”

You lunge towards the book but his reaction is faster and Phainon manages to pull it away before your fingers grab it. Only, as you expected to get some hold with the book, you suddenly find yourself unbalanced in the air. And as gravity likes to pull things towards the ground, you topple over, expecting to hit the hard ground.

But instead, you feel something soft underneath you. You open your eyes, which you have closed during the fall out of reflex, and are immediately met with the slightly flushed face of Phainon looking down at you. Why would he blush? You were fighting just a moment ago.

It takes you a second to realize where gravity has dragged you to: You have landed on Phainon’s lap, your chest slightly pressing against him in a compromising situation. The heat rises to your head and you jump out of this positioning, only to hit your head against the table.

“Ah, fuck!” you groan and hold your head as you crouch down.

You feel careful fingers slip underneath yours to feel out your skull. “Is everything alright? It doesn’t seem like it’s going to be a bump.”

“No, nothing is alright. This is your fault. Now you gotta at least share the book with me,” you jut out your lips, trying to cool down by distracting yourself, and hopefully him, from the earlier situation.

Phainon chuckles. “Okay, fine. But I’m not taking any blame.”

Pushing his desk closer to yours, he puts the book between them. While he’s doing that, you stand up again and take your place. Just in time for the teacher to enter the classroom. They immediately start walking down the rows to check every student for their books. And then they stop at your table.

“Look at that, which one of you forgot their book?”

You press your lips together before you open your mouth to admit your mistake.

“Good morning, teacher. I’m sorry, I forgot my book today,” Phainon answers before you could say anything. “But look, my partner allowed me to share this one. Aren’t you proud of our teamwork?”

The teacher frowns. “You’re on thin ice, Mister. But, I will allow it because it would be the first time for you. And you–,” they turn towards you. “I’m keeping my eye on you, next time there won’t be much leeway, got it?”

You nod. Of course the teacher realized who the problem is. Phainon has probably the cleanest record in the whole school, you not so much. Still, him shifting the blame onto himself meant that the teacher couldn’t really do much without any other proof, because Phainon is probably one of the most trusted students ever, even if a little annoying. He’s just prone to discussing things at every angle with the teacher, especially if he has another opinion. In some way, that only made him look more genuine with everything he does.

Even if sometimes you wished nothing more than to shut him up for one minute.

With a sigh, you lean towards the book, your forehead almost meeting Phainon’s. He grins and leans even closer.

“Got lucky, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say taking the brunt of it ‘lucky’, but if that’s your definition,” you shrug and avert your eyes.

He’s way too close again, and you wonder if Phainon knows anything about personal space and proper distance. You’re keenly aware of his warmth, his shoulder almost brushing yours as he’s focused on the book before you, his scent intermingling with your breath, even if your breathing grows stiff. It’s not fair that he can concentrate on the work while your heartbeat is drowning every single rational thought of yours. In some way, you start regretting sharing the book. Yet, your body feels at ease despite everything.

And due to the smaller distance between you two, it’s easier for Phainon to whisper bad jokes and suggestions to you, making you cramp from holding back your giggles. But that also meant that it’s easier for you to jab your fingers between his ribs so you can watch as he twitches and squirms without being able to do anything against it at all. (And you’re totally ignoring the way he feels so firm underneath your fingertips, because at the moment, nothing else matters but making him burst at the seams.)

Soon, the lesson is over, and you have not listened, much less understood, a single word. That’s another thing you have to redo on your own later on. What matters now though, is trying to get away as fast as possible.

The moment the bell rings, you stand up, your injured foot now able to carry some weight as long as you don’t overdo it, and you begin to limp towards the door of the classroom with the highest speed you can take on. Yet, you’re not fast enough, you will never be fast enough, as Phainon doesn’t even have to do anything but to stand up from his chair to grab you and to heave you onto the table.

“C’mon, you don’t have to–” you squeak when he traps you with his body. One arm on your side and his legs pressing up against yours.

“Oh, but I have to.”

“I have done nothing to deserve this, this is outrageous–” you lean as far back as possible, escaping the swipes of the marker in his hand. “At least not on the face!”

He only grins and continues to move the colored marker towards you and you don’t stop moving to dodge every attack of his. Until he finally hits your skin and a long streak down your throat is made.

At this, you both halt your movements and you pucker your lips slightly forward.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I really didn’t–” He presses his thumb against the mark and swipes carefully on your skin. You’re almost worried he can feel the racing pulse at your throat and thus you act quickly.

“It’s okay, it happens. But now, you have to let me have my retribution,” you grin and take the marker from his hand.

You push him away to change places with him. Only is Phainon much taller than you.

“Ah, no, don’t sit on the table. Are you stupid, how should I reach you like that? Sit on a chair like a normal person,” you shake your head and stem your hands on your hips, as if disappointed in him.

“Oh, yes, that makes sense,” he scratches the back of his neck and takes a seat on the chair instead.

After he has settled down, you step to his side, tugging slightly at his collar and loosening it. It’s way too easy to expose him like that, and you notice how the veins run underneath his skin and how even his neck shows his physical capabilities. You grit your teeth once before saying anything.

“Now, be a good boy and hold still,” you murmur before leaning down and pressing the marker carefully on his skin, hesitating briefly as you feel him shiver slightly. Probably just a little ticklish – or scared.

With smooth motions, and a tongue peeking between your lips, you draw one line after the other. Your other hand has grabbed his chin carefully to tilt it up for more access and to keep him from doing any sudden movements.

“Uhm, not to distract you, but that feels like a lot–”

“Shh, you’re disturbing my creative flow.”

“Creative flow..?” he murmurs with slight confusion tinting his voice, but he shuts up nonetheless.

One final stroke and you lean back, satisfied, and wipe your forehead as if you just put in enormous effort into it.

“Done! Looks great! Wait, let me take a picture,” you quickly look for your phone. Once it’s in your hand, you set the focus on him, bending your knees slightly to get the best angle possible.

Phainon grins and holds up two fingers as a peace sign. After you took a pretty good picture – after many blurred or out of focus or made just for you –, you lean against the table by his side and show him the picture of your choice, showcasing your work to him as he leans slightly against you to get a better look. The yellowish marker has drawn a circle and some triangles, forming a stylized sun as a result.

“Oh, this is pretty good,” he reaches over your arm to slightly zoom in. “Should I get it tattooed?”

You slap his arm lightly. “Don’t you dare. This is just a permanent marker. But a tattoo is probably for the rest of your life, don’t decide that on a whim,” you click your tongue.

“Okay, okay. Can I at least fix my mistake?” he points towards the line on your own skin.

You roll your eyes and hand him the marker. “Might as well, huh. And don’t you dare put something weird on me. Or you’re gonna get it,” you threaten him as you take a seat on the table.

Taking the pen from your hand, he grins at you. “No promises.”

There’s no time for you to do anything but throw a dirty glare his way before he has carefully grabbed your face to take his turn tilting it for more access. Soon, you feel the velvety tip over your skin, soft and steadfast. And you try your best to only focus on the movements of the pen, not on the warmth of his breath against your neck, or the gentle pressure of his fingertips against your jaw. You feel your heart racing in your chest and you’re worried Phainon might even see your pulse visibly beating in your throat.

The time stretches endlessly. Every single stroke and every single breath makes your skin tingle and your insides squirm. It feels like forever has gone by when Phainon finally releases you from his grip and admires his work with a smile.

“Looks good, do you want to see?”

“Hello, of course I want to? What kinda question is this?”

As if prepared for your answer, Phainon holds out his phone to take a picture of you, and you copy his earlier movements, grinning and holding out a peace sign. You doubt he only took one singular picture, because he keeps changing angles and positions, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his seriousness.

“Okay, that’s enough, that’s enough, show it to me now.”

With one last flash, he returns by your side, leaning against the table you’re sitting on, one arm supporting him on its surface – conveniently positioned behind you – while the other is directing his phone to be in front of you, a picture of you on the screen. For a moment you were too distracted by the way his body hovers against yours, one wrong move and you would be touching each other and your skin feels warm at the thought of being between his pectorals, for some reason. But you shooed these thoughts away and immediately steered your focus towards the picture and the drawing he did on you.

It’s a crescent moon. Not a big one, just one using the stray line on your skin and accompanied by the tiniest of stars as decoration.

“Ohh, it’s pretty! Should I get it tattooed?”

At this, Phainon giggles and bumps his shoulder against yours. “Hey now, remember what you said? Don’t decide that on a whim.”

“That was for you, I – on the other hand – am totally responsible and always think everything I do through, unlike naive puppies in my surroundings,” you huff and give him a cheeky grin. “Anyway, do send that picture to me, yeah?”

Phainon only rolls his eyes, even if the smile tugging at his lips is betraying him. Your eyes get stuck for a moment on his lips, soft and plush and filled with joy, before you rip them away and look at the drawing you have made once again; a realization dawning upon you.

You’re matching. Sun and moon. Of course, it’s purely coincidental. You have chosen the sun, as Phainon symbolizes the sun to you, simple as that. And you doubt he has put much thought into it, maybe just drew the first thing that came to mind to fit the stray line, and as he has just seen the sun on himself his first thought might have been the moon, nothing more. There’s no way Phainon would choose the moon with this particular connection in mind.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel slightly giddy about it. Nothing beats a couple which are sun and moon coded, not that you’re a couple, you don’t like him that way, and even if you did, you’re sure he doesn’t either. It’s just the romantic aspect of it, you are an avid shoujo lover after all. Who would you be if you didn’t romanticise some stuff without reason occasionally?

But you don’t get enough time to ruminate over it further, as the bell rings once again and the teacher soon enters the room. And even if each of you has their own book now, your tables continue to stay close.

A couple of weeks go by and you can now walk around without using your crutches. Still, to give the ligament more time to heal, you’re not supposed to join any strenuous activities just yet. But that means you can pick up the simple walks with your friends during the breaks again whenever you have the time and energy.

While everyone is catching up with the news of each other’s lives, the path you take goes by the soccer field. Immediately, the pace slows down, almost coming to a halt.

“Look, doesn’t he look so dreamy?”

“Who? Phainon? Absolutely, he’s soo boyfriend material. Almost feels like an idol in that sense,” your friend giggles and her shoulders push against yours.

“Do you think I got a chance?”

“Huh? Does he even know you?”

There’s laughter, none of you are really taking this seriously. In that matter, he seems to be in a different world. Because it’s true, if Phainon weren’t your deskmate, you would have never met. For a moment, you watch him kicking the ball, a serious expression on his face as he shoots the ball, and scores. The very same expression breaks into a broad grin and you think to hear his laughter mixed in with the cheers of his teammates.

You hear your name called out and turn towards your friends. “Hm? What?”

“I said, you know him, right? Is he the way he actually seems?”

“Uh, maybe? He’s kind and charming and funny, but also such a nerd. I’m so serious, borderline a loser if you know him…”

Your friends exchange glances and giggle with each other. At this, you feel slightly out of the loop and squint your eyes at them. “What.”

“Ohhh, you like him~!”

Your mind forms into a big question mark. “No I don’t? There’s nothing to like?”

“You totally do! Do you hear yourself?” she giggles and points at you.

Your other friend puts a hand on your shoulder as if in consolation. “I fear we have lost you. We’re going to grieve for you, my friend.”

“I’m still here? You’re not gonna lose me to that nerd of all people, psh, please.”

Your friend shrugs at your words. “Oh well, then you surely wouldn’t mind this,” she nods her chin towards the playfield and you follow her lead.

There’s a girl from another class carefully approaching Phainon. And she’s really pretty, you can’t lie. Yet, despite that, there’s an uneasiness squirming in your stomach when you watch as she talks to him, watch his ears and neck turn red – you wonder if his face turns red, too, you cannot see it from your position –, and see a letter being exchanged.

You grit your teeth, for some reason feeling upset over this. But there’s nothing to feel upset about. Even if you did like him, and maybe it’s time to admit you do, you’re not entitled to any of his affection. In some way, you’re lucky you’re even friends with him in the first place.

“Of course I don’t, why should I? His love life is none of my concern,” you huff, an attempt to continue denying your feelings, to avoid making them worry for no reason. Because it truly is none of your concern, he’s allowed to like whoever he wants. And you’re allowed to ignore the inner turmoil he seems to cause with his presence alone.

Without another word, you simply hook up your arms with them and continue on your walk, keen on ventilating the stale air of your worries out of your head with anything else. And a last fleeting thought enters your mind: you should probably take a step back from Phainon, to respect his new girlfriend, or whatever.

If only you knew how difficult it is to avoid the things you have gotten attached to. And you have an attachment to your deskmate, unfortunately. So, even if you have started putting some of your walls back up, to protect yourself mentally and physically, Phainon still manages to make them crumble with a few words, with a simple smile. His everything has you in such a grip, you haven’t realized how bad it was before. Still, you try to avoid him at least outside of the classroom, that’s the least you could do.

Or that’s what you tell yourself. Because you’re getting major déja-vu. Your group has met Phainon’s group out in the wild again, completely by chance. And of course, as everyone is already acquainted with each other due to the karaoke event, they immediately decide to join groups. Again. Akin to the first time, there’s nothing you could do to protest or to flee, so you just stay silent and relent without even trying.

Everyone is chatting together chaotically, splitting up in groups depending on the needs of each individual, and before you know it, these groups are headed in different directions, catching you off guard by the sheer speed of it all, you barely had the time to adjust, much less join a group.

“Well, I guess it’s only us now, huh?”

You startle and turn around with a quick step. Only to face Phainon. Your eyes take a quick glance over him and you notice that his whole vibe is different. It’s probably due to his normal life clothes. You’ve grown used to seeing him in the same uniform as everyone else. His outfit is simple, yet it fits him incredibly well. A white shirt tucked into loose pants and a black leather jacket complementing the look (and boots which make him even taller than he is, which in your opinion is absolutely ridiculous). You think to perceive an almost dainty necklace around his neck. Beyond that, there is a choker visible for all to see, and some bracelets, but you don’t have the time to look closer before you notice that you have been almost staring for a bit too long. And that you have been distancing yourself from him for some time and he probably noticed the lack of communication outside of the classroom. Your texts suddenly short, always taking a long time to get back to him, and never sharing anything with him on a random afternoon anymore. Who wouldn’t notice such drastic changes.

You feel your insides cringe. That’s exactly what you wanted to avoid, being alone with him. But you really can’t justify leaving him alone, even if you were to say that you’re going to follow a random group. And he is your friend after all, despite everything. So, you will go around with him, maybe indulging yourself the tiniest bit.

“Hm, looks like it. Let’s do this, Khaslana,” you nod and begin the tour through the shopping center.

In truth, none of you really wanted to get anything specific, perhaps that’s why you both got left behind after all. So, instead of looking around with a set goal in mind, you simply enter any random shop to browse leisurely.

“Do you think I should get that? Like, I watched all three movies, big fan of him, I reckon he deserves a place on my chest,” you randomly ask him while holding up a shirt with Lightning McQueen on it.

He looks at it and puts his hand under his chin in contemplation before he nods. “Totally, you should make it your trademark while you’re at it.”

“Right? Totally my vibe,” you also nod with a serious face.

Until you make eye contact with him and laughter bursts out of you two. You put the shirt back. Not willing to fully commit to the bit and actually buying said shirt. Then, you just continue wandering around, until you stop in front of the jewelry stand and take your time looking at the different chains and bracelets. There are some cute pieces, but you really shouldn’t get more stuff than you actually need. Still, it’s fun enough to see what they offer in the first place.

Some steps sound and halt by your side. A shadow appears as Phainon leans slightly over your shoulder to look at the same thing you are.

“Hm, there’s some nice stuff here, thinking of getting your girlfriend something?” you ask and point at a couple of stuff without looking at him, engrossed in some of the necklaces.

“What girlfriend?”

This makes you stop in your tracks and you turn your head to finally face him. “Huh? You don’t have one?”

“No? What makes you say that?” There’s pure confusion on his face, and you can’t discern any lie from his words or body language.

“Huh… I thought you did… Uhm, it’s just… I saw you get a confession and thought you accepted it?” You cringe at your own words and feel the situation get awkward with each thing you say.

At this, Phainon frowns. “Why would I? I don’t even know her. And I already have someone I li–”

“Khaslana! What are you doing here, bro!” Some random guys approach him and clap him on his shoulder as a greeting, a familiar gesture. You watch as Phainon easily switches to his usual self to give them a broad smile.

While he’s catching up to his old friends, you suddenly feel mixed emotions. For one, you feel relief, relief that he’s not in a relationship. And yet, you can put together what he wanted to say before he got interrupted, and you can’t give yourself that kind of hope. Still, you’re glad you can at least continue being friends with him with no repercussions for the foreseeable future. Even if you might have to keep this distance between you and him, as your heart is bursting at the seams just by being in his warm presence, and you’re not sure you can ever move on if you continue to be this close to him. So, you will slowly take one step at a time, until your heart isn’t preoccupied by him only, until you feel like you can be normal friends with no stronger ties than that lingering in your own heart.

With this decision, you wait until Phainon is done with his conversation. But before that happens, some of your friends see you and make their way towards the spot you’re at. It seems like they have gotten their stuff and are slowly but surely collecting everyone else, as they’re thinking of ending this trip with a meal in some fast food chain. And you begin to converse with them and input your opinion as if you were never apart, as if you didn’t spend this time with Phainon all alone.

One of your friends hooks her arm with yours and leans close in. “So? Did you deal with it?”

“Deal with what?”

“Well, this whole awkward thing you’ve got on with Khaslana.”

“Uh, I guess? But it’s not going to change anything… Wait, did you leave me alone on purpose?”

She only grins at you.

“Oh, I understand, this is what our friendship is worth, huh? Stabbing me in the back like that?”

“Noo, it’s not like that, and you know that!” she whines but her giggles overpower her voice.

You can only roll your eyes and smile. They only tried to help you, and in a way, they did. You came to a very important realization.

Over the heads of the chatting group, you suddenly make eye contact with Phainon and he gives you one of his blinding smiles. You smile back.

Yes, a very important realization.

“Oh no, did it drop during our swimming lesson?” your friend asks as she points towards her own ears to show you what she means.

You raise your hand to touch your earlobe and notice how empty it feels. A curse slips between your lips. Then, a sigh.

“I guess… Well, there’s nothing I can do now, and to be honest, I’d rather go eat lunch right now than take a dip into the pool again. It’s probably still going to be there later,” you shrug and interlink your arms with hers to make your way out of the classroom and towards your long awaited lunch break.

In truth, it’s one of your favorite pieces of jewelry, something simple and yet, merchandise of your favorite shoujo in hiding. You would openly admit to liking shoujo, there’s nothing wrong with that – unless one is a popular boy, which would be deemed embarrassing by a lot of people, which is apparently not the case if your name is Phainon – but actively wearing merch of your favorite character is something you feel shy about, so, you tend to wear more inconspicuous stuff. Which is usually more difficult to get in the first place. So, this loss does sting, you cannot lie to yourself. You’re only acting nonchalant to avoid any particular suspicion from others.

You planned on retrieving it after school is over, hopefully in time before they drain the pool completely and making it unrecoverable. Only, when you slipped back into the empty classroom to collect something you forgot, it’s the moment you spot two different things: your lost earring twinkling on your table, and Phainon, buttoning up his uniform, the material sticking to his skin immediately – showing off way too much at once, and you have to avert your eyes immediately –, his hair dripping and darkened from the water it’s been soaked in.

It doesn’t take long for you to understand what has happened, and a low sigh escapes you.

“Oh…”

You bite the inside of your cheeks. There’s something bothering you, a little voice telling you that he had done that for you, even after you have been so mean to him, after you have actively made the effort of ignoring him, after you befriended him and then began to distance yourself until you’re only barely talking during breaks between classes. Despite your behaviour towards him, Phainon still decided to get your earring for you. You can’t just do nothing while he’s literally sopping wet in front of you.

Slumping your shoulders, you make your way towards your locker and open it, taking a small, clean towel out of it before you step in front of him. With a small move, you throw the towel over his head and push him to sit onto his table before you begin to carefully rub the wetness out of his hair, all while avoiding eye contact.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you murmur after some time.

A shrug. “It is important to you, isn’t it? Limited merch of that one shoujo…”

You press your lips together and let the towel slip onto his neck, tugging slightly from both sides. “You’re so lame, do you know that?”

The small piece of jewelry has found its way back into his hands, and he’s turning it between his fingertips. It seems like Phainon doesn’t want to react to your statement, rather, he looks up to you, drops of water clinging to his eyelashes and glittering in the rays of sunshine, highlighting his ethereal beauty once again. You have never noticed how beautiful Phainon actually is. How his face seems so soft and yet angled, how soft his lips look like – you know how blinding his smile is, but to see him without it feels entirely different –, how mesmerizing his eyes are, a small halo forming in them when the light hits them just right, giving him something out of this world. You suppose, that truly is how the incarnation of the sun would look like, and you understand why people would want to look at it despite everything, because you too begin to be too engrossed in taking in all the details that make him him without any external influence, almost missing his next words.

“Do you need help putting it on?”

No, you don’t. Putting an earstud back is one of the easiest things one could do. And yet, for some reason – definitely not because of the way his eyes seem so big and the way his eyebrows furrow – you slowly nod, not daring to even speak.

Averting your eyes, you turn your head slightly to the side and give him better access to your ear. Still, you watch from the corner of your eyes as he raises his hand before you feel his fingertips grazing your earshell until he’s able to grasp the earlobe carefully. And as he’s looking for the puncture in your skin, his thumb caresses the soft and sensitive skin, sending small shivers down your back; and you swallow as you try to hold still. Suddenly, you’re overly conscious of him, of his every touch, of the way your knees hover close to each other, the way his breath caresses your throat, the way his body is putting a shadow over yours way too easily. You barely notice the earring hooking into your skin but rather the press of his fingers and the careful touches as he fastens it just right.

After making sure that everything is in place, Phainon retracts his hand, his fingertips grazing your jawline and cheek, leaving a trail of cooling warmth behind. You straighten up again and glance towards him, only to meet his eyes directly as they look at you with something you cannot explain, something you don’t want to explain. So, you hurriedly say your thanks while putting some distance between you. And before you leave the classroom, you dare to give him a small smile. If you only knew what this small gesture would lead to.

The sound of rain crackles against the ground and umbrellas. The weather is unpredictable, and you’re glad you have packed a compact umbrella just in case. Other people aren’t as lucky and thus are exposed to the unrelenting torrent. Most of the students either wait, use their bag as a shield or share an umbrella. The person you meet at the exit seems to be the first case. Seeing Phainon’s tall figure all alone, simply watching the rain without moving an inch, pulls at your heart. The same heart which still doesn’t want to let him go, despite the limited contact. On the contrary, it seems almost as if your heart hurts at the deprivation of this little sun in your life. So, to at least ease your own mind and soul, you step towards him and tap him on his shoulder.

“Hi.”

“Oh, hey…”

You fiddle with the small umbrella before holding it out to him. “Here, you probably need it more than I do…”

He doesn’t take it from you, instead, he asks: “What about you?”

At his words, your heart wrenches, his kindness, his caring nature reminds you once again what you have done to him, and yet, he never dislikes you, rather, he continues to make sure you’re comfortable and well, despite everything.

Pressing your lips together to pull yourself together, for some reason feeling close to tears. But this is your own fault after all, your own emotions got in the way of your friendship and that only hurt you both.

“Uh, I can ask a friend to share it with me–”

“Let’s share it then.”

You pause. “What?”

An inhale, as if he’s collecting courage. “We can share the umbrella… right?”

“Uhm, if you want to? Sure…” You couldn’t get yourself to reject him. Not when his shoulders are slumped like that, not when he’s looking at you with big eyes filled with expectations. It seems like you’re still weak to him, still unable to deny him anything, still unable to deny yourself his presence.

Almost immediately, Phainon perks up and a smile brightens up over his face. He then takes the umbrella carefully from your grasp, his fingers grazing your palm. For some reason, he halts his movements and makes eye contact with you, something flitting through them, before he finally pulls his hand away – taking his warmth away with him, leaving you cold and shivering – to open the umbrella.

As it’s a compact umbrella, the space is small, and you have to step even closer to him so both of you are properly protected. This, in your opinion, is already too close. His body heat is practically radiating off him, and the only thing hindering the two of you from fully touching is the fact that he has raised his arm to hold the umbrella between you two. It’s yours, yet Phainon continues to insist on holding it instead. Which honestly makes sense, as he’s taller than you and thus can keep it above both your heads with little effort.

Once you make sure that the rainshade is covering both of you properly, you begin to make the way towards the station. Silence permeates the situation, and you don’t know what to say to break the ice. This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t put up a wall between you after everything. Still, what’s done is done, and you can’t change what has happened. Only, should you try to change it now? Is it still worth it? Do you want to risk the possible heartache? You’re unsure, and before you could decide properly, Phainon suddenly stops walking.

Your own steps only halt a moment later, yet, the rain doesn’t hit your skin. On the contrary, Phainon’s clothes are starting to drench more and more with each second, as he’s firmly keeping the umbrella above your head despite his own situation.

For a moment, he says nothing. Only looks at you, his face serious, lacking his usual smile, his brows furrowed, his eyes staring at you with burning intensity. You feel the urge to walk away, but you don’t want to disrespect him like that, when he obviously wants to tell you something. So, you stay and wait, not moving, giving him the time.

Then, Phainon says your name. Softly, syllables rolling off his tongue with ease, yet his tone seems tense in some way, straining.

“I– I know you have been distant lately, and– and I want to know why. I want to know why, because your absence causes me a heartache… One I didn’t truly understand until– please tell me it’s not too late…”

Your hand wraps around his bigger one, and while you lead the umbrella back over his head, you step closer to him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about–,” you have an inkling what Phainon is talking about, but you don’t want to think about it, don’t want to have hope until the words come out of his own mouth, “ –but I promise to listen, I promise it’s not too late if I can help it.”

His other hand grabs your free hand, his touch so gentle, as his thumb caressed the skin of its back. And his eyes focus on his movements for a moment, before he looks back at you. His eyes are resolute, almost glowing in the darkness of the rain clouds. He says your name again, almost a whisper, barely a pause before he says what’s heavy in his chest.

“I like you.”

Oh. Your heartbeat stops and you feel lightheaded for a moment. This feels like a dream, like you fell asleep during the day and are having a vivid dream. One where everything you ever wanted suddenly becomes reality with such ease. But the sting of the wind and your racing heartbeat tell you otherwise. This is happening. Phainon is standing in front of you in wet clothes, with big eyes almost anxiously looking at you. So, for a moment, you were stunned, your brain stuttering, your thoughts incomprehensible as you’re slightly overwhelmed with your own feelings.

“Oh…” your mouth simply repeats your thoughts, losing all ability to think properly before speaking. He likes you, and you? You– “I– I like you, too…”

At this, Phainon stares at you with wide eyes and an open mouth, before his arms wrap around you entirely, enveloping you in his embrace. You stiffen up, but it doesn’t take long until you’re melting into him and putting your own arms around him, ignoring the cold water drops raining down on your skin in favor of his comforting warmth.

After a couple of seconds, he releases you slightly to look down at you, hair dripping into his face and he has to blink the water away. Still, his smile persists and glows, even more radiant than you have ever seen him before, and you feel happiness coursing through your veins, filling you with the same sunshine he soaks you in.

Until he opened his mouth. “So, will you be my girlfriend?”

“You’re so annoying. I take it back, I don’t like you,” you huff and turn your face away. Only to giggle when he bumps his forehead against your head. “Okay, okay, yeah. I will. But only if we get out of this rain.”

Reluctantly, Phainon fully releases you from his grasp to grab the fallen umbrella, and you’re glad the wind didn’t pick it up, or else you both would have been stuck under the rain for the rest of the way.

After you’re both under the umbrella, this time less stiff and much closer, he hands you his hoodie. You take it, but not without looking at him in question. But he’s avoiding looking at you and you narrow your eyes at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! You’re just, uh, drenched, and your shirt…” There’s a blush dusting his face, ears and neck.

At this, you look down, only to realize that your shirt has grown see-through, and you feel the heat flood your skin. With hurried movements, you put his hoodie on. It’s warm, comfortable, and smells just like him. You can’t help but subtly sniff at it to inhale more of him.

Glancing back at him, you catch him looking at you and as you feel overwhelmed by his gaze, you pull the collar up to partially hide your face.

“What are you looking at,” you grumble in an attempt to hide your shyness.

Phainon only smiles at you. “Nothing, nothing!”

At this, you squint your eyes, but you let it go, for your own sake. “Whatever, let’s just go.”

On the way to the station, you decide to drop by a convenience store to get him an umbrella of his own. When you handed it to him, he looked at you like a kicked puppy, lips pushed forward, eyebrows frowning and eyes big. You roll your eyes.

“This is for when you go home, we don’t go the same way after the train station–,” you see him open his mouth and immediately add, “ –and no, you’re not going to get into the train with me, only to ride in the opposite direction afterwards.”

“How did you–”

“I’m not stupid, take it, loser.” You take his hand and push the new umbrella into his palm. Despite your words, you’d hate to know that he’s walking through the rain without any protection, especially if he had planned on taking yet another detour just for you.

You leave the store and he immediately follows you with an open umbrella. This time, you don’t try your best to put as much distance between you, and the silence isn’t stiffening, but rather comfortable. Even if you feel his eyes on you way too often.

“Eyes on the road, I’m not gonna warn you if you walk into a lamppost or something.”

He flinches at being caught staring but listens to you and pays attention to the way. Until you reach the train station and he hands you your umbrella back once you’re under a proper roof.

“See you tomorrow, nerd.”

“See you tomorrow,” he nods and waves as each of you makes their way towards the right track.

Only did you not say goodbye with this in mind. The very next morning, the moment you leave the train, you immediately see Phainon waiting there. Him standing there attracts many stares and whispers, and you’ve almost forgotten how handsome he actually is. The people are not gawking at him because they think he’s weird for just standing there, they’re in some way admiring him from afar. You would, too, if you weren’t so confused at his presence here in the first place.

You walk up to him. “Uh, good morning, Khaslana, what are you doing here?”

Upon seeing you, he immediately brightens up, and you blink as a reflex, never truly growing used to seeing his blinding smile. “I wanted to walk with you to school,” he answers, as if it’s obvious.

And truthfully, you have no retaliation for this one, because his eagerness is just so endearing and it’s easily breaking down all your defenses. So, you only sigh and give him a slight smile. “Okay, let’s get going then.”

With this, you exit the train station by his side and make your way towards the school.

“Did you get home safely yesterday?” He looks at you and it almost seems like he’s walking the tiniest bit closer to you.

You nod. “Hm, did you? I’m gonna return your hoodie after I wash it, no worries.”

“I did, and… You don’t have to return it… You can keep it…” Phainon rubs his neck and abashedly turns his head, and you almost miss his next words. “You look cute with it…”

Heat rushes to your face, and it seems like you’re not the only one, as you can see a pink color dusting his neck and ears, and his cheeks once he glances back at you.

“Oh, okay…”

Silence permeates the situation, but not an uncomfortable one. You just keep walking side by side, your hands brushing occasionally. Each time it happens, you feel a small shiver, wondering if you should get over it and just hold his hand. But before you’ve gathered your courage to do so, Phainon hooks his pinky with yours. A small gesture, but more than enough. But apparently not enough for him, as he takes the absence of your rejection for encouragement, the rest of his fingers join and soon his hand is holding yours fully. His grip is gentle and warm. In comparison to yours, his hand is big, almost enough to envelop yours completely with ease. You manage to squeeze his hand and you feel the slightly rough skin and the callouses on his fingers, and yet, nothing has ever felt so filled with comfort as this before.

With this, walking together feels much more harmonious, and the warmth of his skin slowly sets in your bones. Until you’re a street away from school. You stop and pull him to a halt.

“Listen, would it be okay if we kept it lowkey? I don’t–”

“You don’t like the attention, I know. We can do that, even though I’m not sure I can hold back after how far we have taken it.”

You lightly kick him into his shins. “Don’t talk like that! You make it sound like– like we did more than hold hands!”

Phainon immediately doubles over dramatically, even if you know that your hit does not hurt. “You hurt my shin, and my heart. After everything we did together!”

“I’m leaving!” You pass him with stomps and finish the last stretch of the way.

Despite the lead, he quickly catches up to you and thus you both enter the school together. And as your joined arrival is a new occurrence, you immediately notice the stares and whispers and hike your shoulders higher. Trying to ignore whatever they’re talking about, you only get bits and pieces. Something along the lines of how ‘he would never go out with someone like that, not after rejecting…’ and so on and so forth.

You quicken your steps and make your way as fast as possible to the classroom without actually running; without caring if Phainon is actually behind you or not. Though, you’re pretty sure he is. He can be pretty relentless when it comes to pursuing you.

Finally at your seat, you allow yourself to simply lay on top of the desk for a moment. Barely a moment, as Phainon soon sits by your side, the same as usual. Only this time, he knows less about private space than before – not that you mind anymore –, and his legs are immediately pressing against yours; a silent support.

You glance up at him and give him a smile, a thanks, before you begin readying yourself for the next class. And thus, the day proceeds as usual. There’s truly no difference outside of the shared glances and the way your heartbeat races with excitement each time you meet his eyes. And the fact that he’s using his ambidextrousness to continue to hold your pinky with his under the table.

No difference, as Phainon, who occasionally goes out to the snack bar during the break to meet Mydei and his other friends, does the same today, too. You don’t join him, as you have never done so before. Rather, you have a small conversation with another classmate, nothing unusual. Until Phainon drops by to hand you a snack without a single word, pats your head, and disappears again to catch up to his friends outside. You have accepted the small offering because it took you by surprise, you barely had the time to catch up and to ask him what this is all about before he’s already out and about. Still, you’re not complaining, as Phainon actually got you one of your favorite snacks. So, you turn back to your conversation as you begin to pry the package open.

“So, are you two finally dating?”

The packaging rips completely open and you stare at your friend, eyes wide and mouth open.

“Huh? Dating? Psh, why would I ever go out with Khaslana?”

Your friend puts her head into her hand with a small grin. “Really? Then why would he get you something to eat?”

“I don’t know, maybe he does that for all his friends?”

She raises her eyebrow. “I don’t think so, at least not with that look on his face…” She sees the confusion in your own face and gasps. “Don’t tell me you don’t notice the way he looks at you?”

At this, you feel your neck grow hotter, and you blink at her a couple of times, trying to gather yourself. In truth, you haven’t noticed any difference in the way he looks at you. To you, he’s only a bit more tactile with you, but nothing more.

“How– How does he look at me?”

“Are you blind? He literally looks at you like someone admiring the moon or something, all wide eyed and filled with, I don’t know, admiration. Totally like a puppy. Everyone remotely close to him has noticed it.”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” you press your palms against your hot face. “I haven’t noticed anything, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, I’m not gonna start talking about how you look at him. Like he’s the sun itself–”

“No, stop, I know…” Now, you fully bury your face in your hands, embarrassment tickling your back in shivers.

“So, are you dating?”

You peak from between your fingers and frown at her. “No.”

“You’re lying! I know there’s something there, I will know, you can’t run away from me, ever.”

At this, you can only sigh and try to steer the topic towards something else, which only worked partially, as she manages to connect everything back to Phainon and you had to fend off her not unreasonable accusations for the rest of this break.

Still, her words stay in your mind, and you try to stay vigilant to notice the difference between the way Phainon acts with you and with other people. It should work. Because you’re technically hiding your relationship with him, so he can’t be acting that different than usual, right?

Wrong. Despite your agreement to keep everything lowkey, Phainon continues to look at you with big eyes and a constant smile, as if he’s doped up or something. At this point, you doubt he’s even trying to hide it, because one time he gently swiped a fallen lash off your face and even caressed your cheek with his thumb for some time afterwards, acting as if it’s the most normal thing ever. But friends obviously don’t do this. So, you have to intervene, even if you fear it might be already too late.

Once it’s time for lunch, you grab him by the wrist and drag him upstairs to the roof. Only you don’t go to the roof but rather push him against the wall and press your hand to the side, effectively trapping him between you and the wall, even if his physique is much bigger and he could easily escape. But you know that he’s not going to do that. Especially not with the flushed face of his.

“Oh, I don’t think I’m ready, but–”

You slap his shoulder with your free hand. “Shut up. Didn’t we agree to hide our relationship? Why are you acting like that,” you pout with a frown.

“I’m not doing anything differently, though…”

“Khaslana, you literally caressed my face earlier, nobody does that to friends.”

“But we’re not just friends,” there’s now a pout on his face and once again he looks like a kicked puppy.

You groan and let your head slump against his shoulder. “You know what, it’s my mistake to even try. Do whatever you want…”

Immediately, his arms wrap around you and he presses you close as he buries his face into your neck. An embrace all-encompassing.

A sigh. “You really don’t know how to take things slow, do you?” Despite your slight admonishment, you wrap your own arms around him and melt into his hug.

In some way, you should have expected this. And truthfully, you don’t mind being affectionate with him. You just don’t want the attention attached to being together with him. But maybe you can cope with it in some way, because for you, this matters more. You have given him more than enough grief about this relationship between you up until this point.

After some time, Phainon reluctantly releases you from his grip, but only to sit glued to your side to eat together, while now and then sharing some of his lunch with you to try. Of course you do the same as him, putting bits and pieces into his box (none of you feed the other directly, the mere thought of his lips touching your utensils makes your blood warm, you doubt you could survive actually doing that).

The conversation between you two flows, there’s not a specific topic, but rather it just moves freely as you talk comfortably with each other.

Until he mentions some of the homework you have. You groan.

“Don’t remind me, I have so much to study, I don’t want to fall behind, much less fail anything…”

“Well, how about we study together?” and seeing your facial expression, a frown showing your skepticism towards his suggestion, he adds, “It’s not going to be like last time, I promise.”

In some way, you don’t have a choice. Well, you do, but you also know that you could achieve more in less time with his help, so, you end up agreeing. Phainon brightens up at your answer and tells you that he’s going to text you the address later.

With this, lunch is almost over, and you both get back to the classroom. This time, you let him walk as close to you as he wants to, his sheer warmth and feelings towards you shielding you from the whispering and stares of everyone else, as you could only focus on him and him alone.

The arrow on your phone slowly leads you towards the input address. Until you’re standing in front of the door, for a second hesitating on knocking. You’re considering turning back and to give him some weak excuse as to why you missed this study session. But you can’t. You really, really need this time to focus on schoolwork. So, you pull yourself together and let your fist meet the door in a couple quick knocks. And when nobody answers immediately, you shrug – Oh well, seems like nobody is here, what a shame – and begin to turn around. Only for the door to open shortly afterwards.

“You’re here! Come in,” Phainon greets you and opens the door wider right away.

But he’s still standing in the doorway, practically blocking your way. You narrow your eyes at him before you roll them and step in, and right into him, where he receives you with a hug, his arms immediately wrapping around you and squeezing you close to him. You pat his back, and only push him away when he puts his chin on top of your head, to you an indication that he’s going to prolong this hug for as long as possible.

“I’m still practically outside, stop that,” you murmur, and you have to admit to yourself that if that weren’t the case, you would allow him to hold you for a while longer. But the circumstances aren’t ideal and you really don’t want the whole neighborhood watching how you two cling to each other.

“Right,” he releases you from his hold and finally allows you to step inside.

You take off your shoes and put on the slippers he has put out for you. Only when you enter the living room do you notice that the place seems empty. In some way, you have expected him to have invited other people to this session.

“Is nobody else here?”

“Uhm, no. My parents work. We can hang out in the living room, you can make yourself comfortable. Do you want something to drink?”

Shaking your head at his question, you slowly take a seat at the table on the ground. Being alone with him in his place makes you tense. But as it turns out, you didn’t have to worry about everything, because as soon as Phainon took a seat by your side, he surprisingly kept his hands off you and simply helped you through with every single thing you struggled with. And he really pulled through with everything, not allowing you to slack off, while explaining everything carefully and thoroughly; until you actually understood every single topic.

When you finally finish going through everything, you allow yourself to slump against the couch behind you. “It’s over, I’m done.”

“You did well, I’m proud of you,” Phainon smiles and his fingers trail over your forehead, slightly pressing between your eyebrows where you have been constantly frowning while studying.

“Acting like it’s not you who literally put me through the wringer,” you scoff, but still close your eyes and relax underneath his touch.

His fingers continue to draw over your facial features, his touch ever so light, going over your eyebrows, your eyelids, following the line of your nose, over your cheeks, until he stops at the corner of your lips.

At this, you open your eyes and immediately make eye contact with him. You watch as the redness creeps over his neck, ears and face. At this, you feel your own skin heat up, and your lashes flutter as he slowly moves closer, his hand moving over your cheek to cup your face. And then his lips meet your cheeks.

Your heartbeat races even just at this, the sheer proximity in the first place makes your insides squirm. You feel the need to touch him and it seems as if Phainon is feeling the same way, because he immediately buries his face into your neck, his arms wrapping around you and practically pulling you onto his lap, but still keeping some appropriate distance, so not quite as close as possible. But close enough. His heat permeates you, his breath tickles your skin, and you allow your fingers to run through his hair.

“You make me feel crazy,” he murmurs, and you shiver when you feel his lips brush your skin.

“You’re weird,” you retort in the same low tone. “And insane. What are you doing to me…”

His chest vibrates with a chuckle and his fingers draw circles on your back. “Hm, I like you a lot, do you know that.”

Your heart skips a beat, you doubt you could ever grow used to these simple words. “I do now…”

“And?”

“And I like you a lot, too…”

At your words, Phainon giggles and nuzzles his cheek against your shoulder before he looks up to you. And on some impulse, you brush some strands of hair away from his forehead and softly press your lips against his head.

There’s a weight and a push, and you’re suddenly laying on the ground and Phainon is hovering above you, arms on either side of you, face flushed and breath heaving. The look he gives you makes you hold your breath, something of a mix between his usual puppy eyes, big and open, and something entirely new, something almost needy. You see as his eyes catch onto your lips and you reflexively lick them. Which pulls a small whine out of him, before he simply slumps over you, face looking for your neck once again. But he doesn’t even give himself the time to find the usual place before he suddenly gets up and leaves the living room towards the kitchen.

You hear the faucet running as you sit up again, suddenly feeling cold and a little bit confused. But at the same time, you’re glad, because you might have passed out from overheating if Phainon actually stayed on top of you with all of his body. You take this time to collect your disheveled self and to calm down your racing heart.

After a short while, he finally returns with two cups of juice and plates with some sweet stuff. It seems like he has calmed down quite a bit, because he’s smiling at you as if nothing has happened. It would bother you, but you have seen firsthand how flustered he had gotten with each touch and each word (and you notice the small droplets of water still clinging to his skin). So, you allow both of you to move on and to enjoy the snacks together before it was time for you to go.

Phainon actually decides to walk with you to the station. And immediately grabs your hand the moment he leaves the place with you, his thumb continuously brushing against the back of your hand while he accompanies you. Small conversations fill the space and you arrive way too soon at the station.

At the track where your train should arrive, you face him to say goodbye, only to be enveloped once again by his almost overwhelming embrace, his cheek nuzzling the top and the side of your head.

“See you tomorrow.”

You squeeze each other before you get on the train. In the car, you peek through the window and wave, wave until the train is getting on its way and he disappears from your view. You lean into your seat and suddenly feel the excitement melt out of you. Truly, nothing will beat the time spent together with him, you doubt you might ever forget this day, or any day with him.

On a free day, one is supposed to stay at home and rot. What you’re currently doing is the complete opposite: You’re squeezed in a train car in between other people, almost suffocating. This only reminded you of the last time it was this full and Phainon was with you, shielding you from the borderline assault. And that was before you both were dating. You wonder how different it might be if you were to take the train together now.

Speaking of Phainon, he’s the reason you’re even out of the house right now. The evening before, he had asked you to hang out with him today, more specifically to watch a movie. And you’re not that dense to realize that this was obviously a date. Your first date with him! You already feel your heart pumping excitedly in your chest. You even put a lot of effort into your clothing choices in hopes of seeing his expression at your sight.

After the train finally spits you out, you take a moment to fix yourself to not look as disheveled as the ride has left you. While doing so, you step away from the tracks and look around, trying to spot Phainon. Which shouldn’t be difficult, he’s taller than most people, especially if he’s wearing those boots again. You notice a familiar mop of hair and make your way towards that spot with a smile. During that short walk, you watch as people stare at him and whisper, some even discuss something amongst themselves as they glance at him repeatedly. And once you’re close enough to fully see him, you realize why.

Phainon is dressed casually, and similar to the last outing you’ve seen him in his normal clothes: a simple sweatshirt with a small, opened zipper at the collar with a shirt layered underneath, baggy pants and the same boots that make him even taller than he already is. Some bracelets, a small golden necklace, stud earrings. And is that a collar you’re spying? Either way, he totally looks so boyfriend, it makes you fangirl over him a little from afar (and who would blame you for taking a couple of pics of him looking like that).

Suddenly, you have an idea, and you lower your head and approach him. He barely notices you, busy typing on his phone, and you feel your own phone vibrating after that, as you receive a message, probably from him. But you had other plans than giving him an immediate answer.

“E–excuse me, could I have your number?” you ask him with a timid voice.

At this, he doesn’t even lift his eyes before he responds. “No, I’m sorry, I’m waiting for my–,” he raises his head to give you one of his usual smiles, before he sees you and it morphs into one meant just for you, one crooked and dimpled and blindingly beautiful. “Girlfriend!”

Your name spills from his lips with his obvious excitement, and his arms immediately find their way around you and his cheek is nuzzling your head. “I missed you.”

You wrap your own arms around him and lean your head against him. “You’re stupid, we just saw each other yesterday…” you murmur. At your words he puts some distance between you – his arms never leaving you, though – to look at you with a small pout and frown on his face. So, you had no choice but to add with a giggle. “But I missed you, too.”

Only after you’ve said these words does the smile return and he releases you from his grip. His hand slides into yours as if it belongs there, and honestly at this point it might as well. But you don’t get moving, rather Phainon looks at you with big eyes before slightly leaning down, his forehead meeting yours. “You look so pretty today,” he whispers and averts his eyes, ears tinted red ever so slightly.

Heat rushes under your skin and you smile shyly. “Thanks. You look handsome and so cool.” Your words only make the redness spread over his neck and cheeks and he rubs his neck as he straightens up again.

“Thank you, shall we go?”

Once you nod, Phainon leads you out of the train station. The way to the cinema was short and sweet, filled with an ever-flowing conversation.

Entering the building, stepping over soft, red carpet, you take a look at each current poster. Though you both have agreed beforehand on what to watch, you can’t help but be curious about the current movies. Until you stop in front of the one you were planning to watch. It’s dark, there is a shadowed rabbit with glowing red eyes hinted at at the edge of the drowning black, and one single ball pit at the center of it. It’s obviously a horror movie. You honestly should have expected that when you heard its name. And you’re not quite sure what to think of this particular movie. But you do know that in shoujos the female lead is scared and clings onto the male lead. You wonder if you should do that. It is a popular trope, because it leads to more physical affection between the pair. Which is not really scarce in your relationship, Phainon is pretty tactile and you end up in his arms more times than not. So, maybe you don’t have to overdo it, if you happen to get scared in the first place.

There’s a pull on your arm and you look towards Phainon who nods towards the counter to finally get the tickets and the snacks. You let him drag you there.

“What do you want to eat during the movie?” he asks after getting a ticket for each of you.

You hum as you stare at the menu of different snacks. There was such a big variety, you’re not sure what to get exactly. And of course Phainon notices your struggle.

“How about we get one bag of popcorn and share it? We can get other complimentary stuff, too,” he suggests and immediately orders the popcorn once he has your agreement. He also takes your drink order and carefully crafts you both the perfect snack arrangement for the movie.

With all the food ready in hand, you finally get to the hall and quickly find your seat. Soon, the room darkens and silence covers everyone as the movie finally begins to play after some fitting ads. During which you had to slap his hand away from the popcorn, telling him to be patient and to wait until the movie starts before he wipes out most of it. Phainon pouts at your reprimand and instead grabs your hand before intertwining your fingers. This makes your skin heat up, because it feels much more intimate than the usual hand holding you have been doing. Still, you squeeze his hand and lean back into your seat comfortably.

Unsurprisingly, your comfort doesn’t last long, as the moment something happens on screen, you tense and almost jump out of your seat. To avoid that from happening, you end up clinging to Phainon. Which would have been no big deal, but Phainon himself gets spooked at the same stuff, so you end up holding each other before slowly making eye contact. Looking at the other react similarly, you both have to hold in your giggles to not disturb the other movie-goers.

In the end, his arm ends up around your shoulders while you lean against him, still holding each other's hands. That way, you could avoid jumping and sudden jerking, and are rather able to cling to each other immediately. Of course, the main reason is that you wanted to be as close as possible with him – and he as close as possible to you – and just needed a convenient excuse. That way, you could focus on the movie and enjoy his company at the same time.

The movie is over before you know it and you let your head fall onto his shoulder, suddenly feeling the tension drain out of you.

“That was a good movie, stayed pretty close to the source material,” you comment with your approval.

Phainon nods. “Yeah, I’m glad they obviously knew what they were working with instead of focusing on, I don’t know, aura-farming or using the actors for their popularity.”

“Exactly! That was refreshing to watch, I can’t lie, like the way they–” The discussion about the movie continues as you throw away your trash and exit the building, both of you still feeling the rush of it running through your veins.

As usual, he has taken your hand once again, and almost like it’s the most normal thing ever, like he has always done it before, Phainon intertwines your fingers together with ease. You don’t complain. Rather, you like this growing comfort between you and the way he seems to be taking small steps to heighten the affection level between you two.

Hand in hand, you simply take a walk down the road, enjoying the soft breeze of spring. Until something catches your eye in the window of a small shop. As you have entered a couple places before, you reckon it’s not going to attract much suspicion from him if you ask him to visit this one. And as expected, he readily agrees and even holds the door open for you as you step in.

Inside, you walk along the rows with him in tow. Then you notice a gap in his attention as something seems to have grabbed it momentarily, and you use this small moment to slip away.

Once you’re sure you’re out of his view, you make haste in grabbing the very thing that has brought you to this store in the first place and quickly pay for it with no hesitation before you return to the aisle you have left him in. Only to find him gone. He’s probably walking around looking for you, and you doubt it would be of any help to try to walk after him, so you decide to stay in this spot, as he’s bound to return eventually. And you were right. After a few minutes, Phainon comes back with wide eyes and a frown.

“I thought I lost you.”

At this, you can’t help but giggle. “How can you lose me, silly, I’m not going anywhere. The store isn’t that big.” You step closer and press your hands against his cheeks, exaggerating his pout. He leans closer into your touch and sighs.

“Still…”

“Okay, I’m never going to leave you, my good loyal puppy.”

Phainon grabs your wrist and acts as if he wants to dig his teeth into your soft skin. You squeal and manage to pull away. He only grins at your reaction and takes your hand in his once again, and you both leave the store.

The path you take leads you to a hidden spot with one beautifully blooming sakura tree. There’s a bench directly underneath it and you decide to take a seat there for a small break.

Once sitting side by side, Phainon turns around to face you, saying your name softly. “Today was amazing, thank you so much. And I, uh, I got you something in that store where we lost each other. I hope you like it.”

He quickly takes out a small package and hands it to you, ears slightly red as he watches your reaction intently. You open it carefully and pull out what’s inside. A dainty chain with a small amulet; a beautifully crafted moon. The wire twists and turns to form the crescent with stunning intricacy.

“It’s beautiful,” you breath, awed by it, and moved by his thoughts.

And then, you rush to pull out a similar package from your bag. “I also got you something. That’s– That’s why we lost each other in the first place. I’m sorry…”

With big eyes and a slightly open mouth, Phainon takes the package and opens it in a hurry. To reveal a similar chain and a similar amulet, only was his a sun, made with the same technique as your moon. Almost like they belong to each other.

An exhale, stuttering, stunned.

Then, he looks up at you, speechless, but his eyes tell you more than enough, wide with blown pupils, almost watery, and just so filled with admiration and thankfulness. It seems as if Phainon feels overwhelmed, because he changes the topic.

“Can I put it on you?”

The phrasing is different, yet, you get a strong deja-vu. And this time, there’s no need for any hesitation, you give him a smile and a nod before you hand the jewelry back to him.

Keeping your eyes at him, you lean your head slightly to give him better access to the back of your neck. You watch as he opens the claps and raises his hands to bring them behind you, and you feel his warmth radiating over your skin, feel his fingers and hand graze you ever so softly. There’s a small furrow between his eyebrows as he focuses on clasping the two ends back together, and he’s so close, so close you notice the small freckles over his face, barely noticeable from any bigger distance. You notice his breath on your neck, the way your knees are touching, the way his body is warming yours up with each move, bringing your heart to race so easily. You don’t pay attention to the connecting of the chain anymore, but rather focus on him right now, in front of you.

Once the chain is properly attached, Phainon pulls back ever so slightly, letting his fingertips trail over your neck to your jaw and cheek. Warm skin on hot skin. His thumb caresses your cheek softly and you lean into his touch with a smile, meeting his eyes directly. Eyes which are filled with everything you know and want to know. Eyes which move towards your lips as he slowly moves closer and closer, at a pace as if he’s only waiting for you to pull back. But you don’t, you close your eyes with fluttering eyelashes.

His lips meet yours. Sweet, gentle. A wonderful touch, eliciting hundreds of butterflies in you, making your heart race and your head light. On instinct, your hands grab his arm and shoulder, your whole being melting into him.

And time goes by too fast before he pulls away, his face, neck and ears flushed a deep red, and you yourself feel hot and almost bothered by the shortness of it. Until Phainon opens his mouth, a soft whisper leaves his lips, carefully, yet not hesitant, so sure of the weight and meaning of the words.

“I love you.”

The breath in your lungs gets caught in between those words, and they easily turn your brain into pure softness as you barely register them and their meaning. They run through your veins, your heart, opening something in you. And you realize. Oh. That’s what it was. The happiness, the joy, the comfort, the excitement, the fluttering heartbeat in his presence. The answer is right in front of you, so incredibly simple.

“I love you, too,” you murmur and give him a smile, one of pure happiness.

There are many things flowing over his face, unbelief, almost shock, until it morphs into relief and blinding joy. And almost as if he cannot control himself, his other arm wraps around your waist and pulls you infinitely closer, the hand on your face caressing your skin as Phainon once again dives in to catch your lips with his. Over and over again. Never getting enough. And you melt into him, your whole body vibrating with your love, full and content. You giggle with each kiss and even dare to lean even closer to him.

Drowning in his love and his kisses and his radiant warmth, you feel content with life. You could never wish for anything else, this is how you want to spend the rest of your life: in his arms, showering each other with your unbridled feelings, allowing yourself to do what nobody else dared before; to be sunkissed.

#phainon x reader #phainon khaslana x reader #phainon hsr x reader #phainon x you #phainon x y/n #phainon hsr x you #phainon hsr x y/n #phainon khaslana x you #phainon khaslana x y/n #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x y/n #supernova – phainon #supernova – honkai: starrail

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freyito · 3 months ago

Text

ᴇxᴛʀᴀ ᴅᴏꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʟᴏᴠɪɴ'

✭ pairing(s): boothill, gallagher, mydei, phainon (seperate) x reader

✩ in which: they give you some extra tlc

✧ a/n: hiii :,) i accidentally became important at work withiun the first motnh sofics are suuuper slow. ive also just been struggling with motivation AND my grandpa died and then not even a day later i was watching a tornado do its thing right infront of my workplace. so!

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread

✎ wc: 1.6k

⎯ Boothill

Usually, BOOTHILL is the one in need of a little extra love. Running across the galaxy for months at a time can take a lot out of him. Even with his impressive will, he can find himself drained sometimes. Sure, he’s always found peace out in the wild, under a star-painted sky, but he still can’t help but crave some sort of human connection, a way to recharge and remind him of what little humanity he has left. He won’t say anything, and he barely shows just how tired he is when he comes home, always wearing that damn smile. No matter if he had killed anyone on the trip, if he had been chased, if he had been damn near blown apart; he is never without that smile when he returns to you.

While he makes it extra hard for you to read him, he can read you exceptionally well. No matter how well you think you hide it, he always finds something. Your shoulders may be slumped, there’s a furrow in your brow, your voice doesn’t sound too confident… he knows.

“C’mon, darlin’, ain’t gotta hide from me,” Boothill coos, coming up from behind you and wrapping one arm around your waist. “If somethin’s wrong, just say so.”

All you can find yourself doing is huff, and lean back into his chest. He laughs out a soft ‘awh’, before hoisting you up into his arms. He carries you off to the bedroom, setting you down gently on the bed.

Now, when it comes to TLC, Boothill practically has a checklist. The first task is to make sure you're comfortable, and happy, of course. The second task is making sure your wants are attended to. This usually manifests in him giving you a quiet space while he goes off into the kitchen to cook for you, usually something warm or sweet (or both!). The goal of this is to give you some time to decompress (whether it be in your bed, or on the couch), but if you choose to follow him to the kitchen instead, he’s quite happy with that, too.

The third task is the most important (to him, at least), and that’s showering you with all the love he can possibly give. Aside from feeding you (which he will do, all you need to ask), he makes it a point to cuddle up to you and pepper your face with kisses. He makes it known just how much he loves you, with all sorts of sweet little praises and whispers. If you prefer spending a quiet night with him instead, he absolutely insists that you come out with him for some stargazing. A nice little night with your beloved under the star-painted sky is a wonderful way to remind yourself to take it easy, live in the present, and just a reminder that there is someone there for you. Even when you don’t want to admit that you need a little extra love.

⎯ Gallagher

Being a bartender, GALLAGHER can easily pick up on any little mood shift. He is also quite good at sniffing out the problem behind your moods, too. It’s actually kind of scary how well he knows you. Stressed? He’s taking care of you. Sad? He’s taking care of you. Mad? He’s taking care of you. Tired– Yes, he’s taking care of you any time he can, and any time you allow him to. Even when you’re being stubborn and trying to tell him you are totally fine.

So, when you come home, a couple hours after your shift was supposed to end, he already had a drink waiting for you. When you completely ignore the little glass and instead choose to practically fall into his arms, his disappointment is immediately replaced with a sense of happiness– Not that you’ve had a bad day, but the fact that you are openly seeking his comfort after one.

“Alright, well, let’s get ya all cozied up, hm?” He hums, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing just a little, then rocking you back and forth softly, while on large hand splays over the small of your back.

Once you’ve relaxed, he guides you back to the couch, before fetching you a bunch of pillows and some blankets. He quite likes to get nice and close with you, but if you want to move to the bed, he’s happy to do that, too. He’ll still stay just as close, though. He also orders any food you want, those outrageous delivery costs be damned. Even if you want several different things from several different restaurants, he will cater to your whims. This spoiling is only the start, really.

It seems he physically cannot leave you. He always has to be touching you in some way, even if he just has his pinky linked to yours. There’s always a warm hand on your hip or thigh, and if he can, he’s pulling you up to his chest. He has to be close, not just for the day but practically for the whole week. He always finds some way to come back to you, even if he’s working. He could be stationed all the way across the city and still come home to see you on his break, all for five seconds to hold you.

⎯ Mydeimos

‘Stress’ doesn’t exist in the Kremnoan language. Or so MYDEI says. That being said, his tolerance is much higher than yours. Something about being ‘forged in war’... But he never faults you if you’re feeling down. As much as he thinks a nice meal will make you feel much better, he understands that there is always more to it. While he chooses to neglect his own emotions, and ignore what eats at him, he is almost the exact opposite when it comes to you.

Granted, he doesn’t like to let you know that he knows you are stressed. At least, not verbally. Something hidden deep within him, something cheeky, likes to keep things a surprise. As boyish as it is for a warrior like him, he truly can’t help it. There’s something about the way your eyes light up and the way you soften when he does anything for you, especially unprompted.

“Here you are, my love,” Mydei murmurs from behind you, placing a plate of soutzoukakia and rice on your desk. “You seemed hungry, so I made you something.”

It was true, you really were hungry. But, you found yourself so engrossed in your work, hunched over your desk as you stared at your laptop. You had long since lost the plot of the piece you were supposed to be editing, and in turn, that made you feel burnt out. The deadline was in a few days, but you were already on the last few pages, and really wanted to get it finished by the end of the day. In doing so, it seems you have worried your lover.

Before you get a chance to thank him, he places his hands on your shoulders, pressing into them. You can’t help but lean back into him, as he huffs out a soft chuckle. He doesn’t say anymore as his thumbs press into the back of your shoulders, but in the back of his mind, all he can think is ‘See? You overwork yourself’.

He continues to massage your shoulders for another minute in silence, eyes heavy lidded as he watches you relax. He pulls away after a beat, leading you to look up at him. His smile is so gentle, so kind, something you know is only for you. Once he’s satisfied with how content you look, he leans down and presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, smoothing his hands down your shoulders to your arms. He then leaves you to eat, choosing to go about his day in the background. It’s a calming sort of ambience, the shuffling behind you and the grunts and sighs as he begins his afternoon workout. Sure, the noises could be a little more… quiet. But, at this point, you’ve grown used to it. So used to it, that it’s comforting.

⎯ Phainon

Oh, PHAINON, dear Phainon, nothing gets past him. He practically grew up comforting people, and as such, he understood all your tells before you two even started dating. Therefore, you get pampered before you even realize the stress is setting in. As such, with him, you truly never feel… down. He loves and dotes on you too much to feel like you need anything extra.

Sometimes, however, it does slip past him. He doesn’t beat himself up over it, really, he takes it as a sign to do better. Besides, who would be mad at a little more love? Certainly not you, with the way he cuddles up to you the minute you come home. He’s so damn close to just throwing you over his shoulder and throwing you in bed, keeping you there for a week tops. Probably more.

“C’mon, you and me are gonna hide away from the world for a bit,” He laughs, fingers linking with yours as he pulls you along to the bedroom.

You two lay in the bed, just simply staring at each other for a long while. At most, it’s only five moments, but it feels like an eternity. He holds you so close, legs tangled up, warm hands splayed across your back. He rubs soothingly up and down your spine, blinking slowly like a content cat (despite being more like a puppy at this moment).

For a while, he looks like he could just fall asleep then and there, holding you even closer like you were some plush toy. Then, just as you feel yourself getting sleepy, he presses a kiss to your shoulder. Then the crook of your neck, then your neck, and one, two, three more kisses to your face– a thousand more kisses to your face. He decides in that moment, when you finally look relaxed and calm, that he can’t let you end the day without laughing first.

#⁺◟freyito #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #boothill x reader #boothill hsr x reader #gallagher x reader #gallagher hsr x reader #mydei x reader #mydei hsr x reader #mydeimos x reader #phainon x reader #phainon hsr x reader

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sillyseraphie · 3 months ago

Note

hi sweet seraphie! LOL im sending all my mutuals a request and im particularly excited about it!! i wanna know what its like to req 👰‍♂️

so something w phai maybe? reader had a ginormous crush on him b4 but lost feelings since he never reciprocated but hes realizing he loves them now and is trying to win them over again 🫦 cute, subtle ways!!!

kisses and hugs to u seraphie 🙇‍♀️

- cipher (sage in disguise)

“Love is never too late.”

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in which: you had a very huge crush on phainon before but long after knowing he never reciprocated your feelings, you lost feelings for him — only for him to develop feelings for you and the first thing that went inside his head was to win you over again.

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pairing/s: phainon x gn!artist!reader

au: college au

today's teas are: angst, hurt/comfy!

cw: might be ooc as this is only the second time i write phainon and my third time writing an hsr fanfic! + loserboy phainon, bcs me thinks he's a loser when he's smitten! + unedited, there may be errors ahead!

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HALO, LOVELY SAGIE!! (or cipher ;p) thank you for letting me be a part of "sending all my mutuals a request" event of yours! your idea is almost giving "she/he loved him, and he loved him/her too late" LMAO since i'm nice, i'm going to give this a happy ending!! but that doesn't mean my evil arc has ended >:)) might write mydei next based on the anime frieren(?) and on a song "multo" by cup of joe!

thanks for the sweet kissies and huggies! hyacine(disguised as seraphie) is sending u kisses as well!! enjoy reading my first longest fanfic in my life!!

─────────────────────────

you glanced at phainon, who was laughing and teasing mydei to rile him up, as usual, then back at the page of your sketchpad that was once again filled with sketches of him.

you were never one to express everything through words as it always felt difficult for you. so instead, you poured all your feelings into sketching the man you adored.

almost all of the pages of your sketchpad were filled with doodles and sketches of phainon. some were sketches of him smiling, some were him sleeping on his desk (during class), some mini versions him, and even him as a puppy!

yet, even with all those masterpieces, nothing could compare to the real one.

─────────────────────────

just as you were about to finish the outline, phainon leans over and takes a peek. "is that me?"

you almost jumped from your seat at his voice and you immediately turned your head to face him, only to freeze when you did and everything seemed to slow down until you snapped back to reality.

too close!

you thought to yourself as your heart gave a flutter at the proximity between your faces.

you wanted to push him away but you just sat there, not moving an inch.

"yes." thankfully, you knew how to control your expressions. otherwise, you would probably be a blushing mess right now.

phainon hummed in amusement. "you're quite talented at this, (name)! i didn't know i was one of your muses."

one of your muses? oh, how you wanted to say how wrong he was and tell him that he was your only muse but instead, you just kept quiet — as if the words were stuck in your throat — and averted your gaze to the sketch before you.

"thanks." you mumbled, shrinking into your seat, not used to receiving compliments.

phainon merely smiled, knowing and understanding that you were a person of few words who struggled to express yourself, and he accepted that.

so he reached for your head and gently ruffled your hair, making you huff under your breath and swat his hand away in response — only for him to laugh at you, oblivious to the way his touch sent a wave of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

(oh, have i ever mentioned how his laughter was always a music with the perfect melody to your ears? you could listen to it over and over again and you'd never grow tired or sick of it.)

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you plopped down to the mattress of your bed.

man, you were exhausted.

tilting your head to the side, you glanced at the plastic bag that had your newly bought sketchpad inside, which lay on the desk beside your bed.

you sighed.

this was your second time buying a new sketchpad, as the other two were already filled with sketches of him.

what am i going to do? you asked yourself. and before you knew it, your mind drifted to your feelings for him.

you never expected any of this to happen.

at first, you told yourself it was just a simple crush that would be gone in a flash for a few days — only for your feelings to last longer and bloom into something even deeper.

maybe it wouldn't hurt to confess, right?

...

yeah, maybe it wouldn't hurt.

you weren't the best at words, but you're willing to try, even if it means you'll have to face rejection— not that you weren't mentally prepared for it.

you spent the whole night thinking for the right words to confess,, some leaving you curled up in the sheets out of embarrassment.

curse the titan of romance, why must it end up this way?

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...

"sorry, (name). i couldn't return your feelings."

ah.

of course, he couldn't. you were just another friend in his eyes anyway.

you ignored the painful ache in your chest, pushing the feeling down with a laugh that sounded convincing enough for anyone to believe that it's fine.

"no need to apologize, phai. i completely understand, i wasn't even expecting you to reciprocate them anyway."

"thank you for listening to everything before saying anything else and for being honest. you may say that it's nothing to thank you for, but it means a lot to me. if you don't mind... could you at least accept these?"

you held the two sketchpads out to him, gesturing for him to take them from you and he did.

with a polite bow, you thanked him again and left.

all that mattered was that you finally confessed, and moving on would be a lot more easier for you now.

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phainon's a popular guy on the campus, a social butterfly with a charm that drew everyone in. he excelled in academics, dominated in sports, had good looks and a smile that could light any darkest room.

and you? you were just a normal, introverted student — known for your artistic achievements, but often overlooked in the crowd.

locking the door to your room, you slid yourself down to the floor with your back against the door.

you could finally move on without trouble.

you knew he'd never reciprocate your feelings.

you knew you had it coming and prepared yourself for it.

you had convinced yourself that you were okay with it. watching him laugh with friends, effortlessly connecting with everyone while you felt like a ghost in the background admiring him from afar. you told yourself that feelings like these were inevitable when you admired someone so vibrant and alive. and yet,

why did it hurt so much?

lost in thought, something warm and wet suddenly landed on your lap.

you blinked, confusion washing over you. you wiped at your eyes and noticed that your vision was blurry.

when was the last time you cried? the question echoed in your mind, heavy and unsettling. you couldn't remember. the emptiness you often felt had numbed you to every pain, dulling your emotions to the point where tears seemed like a distant memory.

as you fought to regain your composure, more droplets followed, cascading down your cheeks. each tear felt like a release, but also a reminder of the weight you carried.

you had grown so accustomed to the numbness that the sudden rush of emotion overwhelmed you, catching you off guard.

maybe letting go of your feelings for phainon wasn't as easy as you thought, but you knew for sure that you will be able to let go of them soon.

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phainon sat on the edge of his bed, his fingers tracing the outline of the sketches as his eyes fixated on the image made from pencil before him. each doodle was a glimpse into the world of someone who saw him differently, someone who captured his little moments.

he flipped through the pages, observing every expression— the way his smile lit up the page, the peacefulness of him sleeping during class, even the silly sketches of him as a puppy. it was as if each drawing held a story, and he felt his heart getting heavier on every page he flips.

as he continued flipping through the sketches, something tugged at his heartstrings. realization dawned on him that these weren't just sketches,

they were pieces of your feelings and thoughts.

he paused on the page where you had captured him laughing, the joy and lightness in that moment reflected back at him.

it was as if he could hear the laughter in his mind.

setting the sketchpad down, he lay down with his back against the soft mattress of his bed and placed an arm over his now closed eyelids before letting out a sigh.

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a month passed in a blur since you had confessed your feelings, life on the campus went smoothly as usual. well not for phainon at least.

phainon and you maintained your friendship, still sharing laughs, joining him for lunch and studying together as if nothing happened between the two of you. however, there was something different these days and phainon isn't stupid not to notice that.

while you still treated him the same, (with kindness, warmth, and respect) you rarely glanced his way like you used to anymore.

you laughed alongside him, but the spark that used to light up in your eyes when you look at him seemed dimmed.

he complimented you on your art and instead of the shy, grateful reaction he was used to, you kindly accepted it with a smile. (it felt more like a polite acknowledgement than the shy excitement he had grown accustomed to.) as if you were silently telling him that you no longer hold those feelings for him.

phainon couldn't shake the feeling that he lost something so precious. he often caught himself watching you and deciphering the subtle changes in your demeanor.

you had moved on, and while he was glad you did and you no longer have to suffer from your feelings for him that could never be returned, he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing.

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he sat there at the cafeteria with mydei, glancing at the direction where you were sitting and laughing with your small circle of friends, seeming engrossed in a conversation.

why did it bother him so much? he has always been popular, admired by many, yet he felt a pang of something when he saw you laughing with others? (jealousy perhaps?)

in quiet moments, he found himself thinking about the sketches you had created. each drawing was a glimpse into a side of you he had never really recognized — your creativity, your perspective, and the way you deeply saw him in a different light.

(strangely enough,) it made his heart ache.

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phainon found himself staring at you again, his gaze glued to you as you sat with your friends. you were in the midst of a conversation, laughing at something that had been said, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

he watched as you tuck a strand behind your ear, a small smile forming on your lips. such a simple action, and yet it captivated him in a way he didn't expect.

he couldn't help but admire the way you moved, so unnatural and unguarded.

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phainon rested his chin on his palm as his gaze fixated on his seatmate.

he took noticed of you resting your head on your arms that was placed on top of your desk, your breathing soft and even as you drited off to sleep. the calm and peaceful sight of you brought a smile to his face, and something deep stirred within him.

"earth to phainon."

mydei's voice cut him off from his daze, and phainon froze in realization. "ah, sorry. i wasn't listening, what is it?"

mydei raised an eyebrow. "you seemed to be distracted these days, what's on your mind," he paused, his eyes landing at your sleeping figure.

"or rather, who is on your mind?" he finished in a playful manner.

shoot, he got caught!

phainon rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, letting out a nervous laugh.

was it obvious or was he staring at you that long?

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phainon looked at the ceiling above him as he recalled the days that had passed. his mind flooded with memories, each memory of you now felt more clearer and meaningful.

sitting in the cafeteria, watching you laugh with your friends and feeling a pang of something he hadn't felt before. but he ignored it and instead listened to your laughter that seemed to melt his heart. it sounded perfect to his ears, bright and carefree.

the smallest and simplest things you do, like when you were sketching, lost in your world, the way your brows furrowed in concentration or how you'd occasionally tap the tip of the pencil against your lips made his heart race.

those little gestures, once overlooked, now held a beauty that captivated him entirely.

he remembered the way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, a simple action that sent fluttering butterflies in his stomach.

the moments you'd fall asleep during class breaks, as if you were blissfully unaware of the world around you.

is this how you felt back then? he asked himself.

each memory deepened his confusion and longing. he had always seen you as a friend, but now he felt something more these days— and it honestly thrilled, yet frightened him at the same time.

he wanted to be the reason behind your smiles, the one who encourages you in your passion for arts, and who stands by you through everything.

and yet, he couldn't shake the fear of losing you. you had already moved on from the feelings you once had for him, and phainon worried that his feelings for you might push you away.

but he knew he had to confront these feelings. if he wanted you to see him in the same light you once did, he would have to take the risk before it's too late.

the first thing that came to his mind was to win you over again, and he was determined to do it.

though, will it be worth the risk? only one way to find out.

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sigh.

phainon exhaled and his groan soon followed, his face resting against the desk. he had been trying to win your heart again these past two months, but he always ended up failing with his sudden clumsiness, and the unexpected things happening.

impressing you with his drawing skills? failed. he knocked a bottle of water over (that had its lid opened) in an accident, spilling it all over your sketchbook. he tried cleaning it up with a paper towel, only for him to smear the sketches he had already made, turning his masterpiece into a messy blur. you tried assuring him that it was fine and it was an accident, and yet that didn't stop the sad expression that formed on his face, looking exactly like a kicked puppy and you had to hold yourself back from laughing.

(cute. you thought.)

impressing you with his skills in sports? failed. while he did manage to shoot the ball, he got distracted when he caught your gaze and before he knew it, a ball flew to his way at a rapid speed and hit him right on the head, almost knocking him out.

sending you a sweet message about how much he enjoys spending time with you? failed. he accidentally sent the message to the wrong person. and worst of all, the person he accidentally sent the sweet message to was one of the professors in the campus; anaxa.

he doubts he'll even forget that memory.

he tried to pick your things that had fallen to the ground, only for both of your foreheads to bump against each other really hard.

he also tried flirting, but you were so slow and oblivious, it backfired.

mnestia, could you please be nice for once?

─────────────────────────

phainon always had a bright smile on his face, but there was a subtle change about him lately, and everyone on the campus could see the way his eyes would soften or light up with stars, the way the expression on his face would brighten with a grin, or even the way his imaginary tail would wag furiously whenever he sees you or when he's with you. (as if he was a dog with an owner that just got home from work.)

during class, phainon would steal glances on your way while the professor was busy discussing. only for anaxa to catch him daydreaming later, staring at you instead of paying attention and taking down notes. he eventually calls him after clearing his throat to catch his student's attention, "care to share your thoughts, phainon of aedes elysiae?" and the class erupts into laughter as phainon stumbles over his words, cheeks flushed and an embarrassed smile on his lips.

you also could tell that there was something more about the way he acts around you, but you kept denying it, convincing yourself that you're just imagining things or phainon was simply being... well, phainon.

yet despite your attempts to brush it off, you couldn't shake off the fluttering feeling in your chest from the way he looks at you like a lovesick puppy (you honestly find that cute), or when gives you those bright, charming smiles that always seemed to widen whenever you agree to tag along with him, or the way he still spots you in the crowds despite blending in perfectly, or—

titans.

you were falling for him again. but oddly enough, you didn't feel scared or hesitant about it, and it felt different this time, you didn't question everything like last time, you just accepted it without overthinking and complaining.

you didn't mind that he turned you down before, those moments had already felt like a blur now. and you found yourself clinging to the small hopes that maybe, just maybe, things would be different this time.

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phainon was unusually quiet today, but as two of your friends called out to him, his gaze landed on them first before you and the moment it did; heat crept up to his cheeks.

"how do they look, phainon?"

cipher and hyacine had just finished styling your hair (out of boredom) and now they asked him for his opinion, only for him to remain silent and leave their question unanswered.

"i told you, i look ridiculous in this. i prefer my usual hair style much more." a sigh left your lips, embarrassment washing over you as you brought a hand to the clip/pin/hair tie, trying to take it off. But cipher stopped you before you could.

"ah, ah, ah. he hasn't given us an answer yet."

phainon was too stunned to speak and he couldn't help himself from staring at you, not when you look so...

breathtaking, beautiful, stunning, lovely, majestic, adorable, charming, enchanting, divine, and effortlessly gorgeous.

i mean you've always been, but seeing you in a different hairstyle than usual was new to him, and he doubts words are even enough to describe how captivating you are.

with a hand covering half of his flushed face and his shy smile, his eyes averted elsewhere before finally giving them an answer.

"they look pretty." he muttered and he returned his gaze back to you (and only you), his voice barely above a whisper but it was enough for you and your friends to hear.

while the pair cheered, he didn't fail to notice how you seemed to freeze in your spot.

was he seeing things? he could've sworn he saw your cheeks blooming into a faint red colour before you turned your back to him.

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several months had passed since day one of phainon's clumsy attempts of winning you over, and now you stood there with him at the entrance of the amusement park, staring blankly at the screen,and holding back the frustration that washed over you as you read the message.

hyacine: sorry, (name)! we got so hungry, we had to go somewhere to eat. i'm pretty sure you'll be fine there as long as you're with phainon! o⁠(⁠(⁠*⁠^⁠▽⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠)⁠o

cipher: have fun

cipher: on your date! ;3

beside you was phainon, who was also staring at the screen of his phone.

mydei: we had been standing and waiting for so long, but since you were taking your precious time, i had lost my patience.

castorice: sorry, phainon. i couldn't stay in one place for too long. we're cheering for you though! good luck! :))

great.

they ditched us. you both thought at the same time.

a long silence followed, and phainon was the first to break it. "seems like it's just the two of us then. where do you want to head to first?"

while phainon was frustrated at the fact that the both of you just got ditched, a part of him was happy that he got to spend time with you alone— in an amusement park.

you looked around first before pointing at the rides. "the rides would be nice, i'd like to try them out." (you felt a bit childish, but you've been dying to ride the rollercoaster.)

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as you made your way through the bustling crowd, you suddenly felt a bit anxious. "hey, phainon?"

"yeah?"

"do you mind if i hold onto your arm?" you hesitantly asked him. "i don't really like crowds, and i'm afraid that i might get lost..."

phainon glanced at you, and then chuckled. "with your height, it might not be easy to spot you in all these people." he joked and you flashed him a glare. (you were offended. that joke was unfunny, sir.)

"but sure, i don't mind." he extended his arm for you before you linked yours with his (and suddenly, you're not that scared anymore).

whenever you feel overwhelmed by the crowd, your grip on him loosens. and each time that happens, phainon would gently pull you back closer to his side, ensuring your safety.

the both of you headed to the rides first, you started with the simple ones before the thrilling rides. excitement bubbled in your chest as you climb aboard the rollercoaster. the ride was thrilling and it made you scream in delight whenever it plummeted down.

once the ride came to stop, you stepped off of the ride. but when you stepped foot on the ground, your knees buckled. just as you were about to stumble, phainon caught you just in time, his arms wrapping around you securely, "woah, careful there!" he said, and both of you burst into fits of laughter.

after regaining your balance, you and phainon headed over to the food stalls to eat, before wandering over to the game stalls. (you could've sworn you saw two familiar figures with blonde and lavender hair, but before you could even look at their direction, a prize caught your attention.) you tried your luck at winning the prize while phainon cheered you on, and his encouragement was boosting your confidence.

when you finally knocked down the cans and won a stuffed animal, you beamed up at him with the plush in your arms, and he flashed you a proud grin.

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the sun had begun to set and both of you had decided to go home. (your parents told you to come home before night time.)

the excitement of the day was still buzzling in the air, and the smiles on your faces were still there. phainon had decided to take you home and everything was silent, but it wasn't the awkward silence you shared earlier— it was rather comfortable and warm.

as you've both finally reached outside your home, you weren't sure how to voice out the feelings that had been blooming inside you, but it seemed phainon had something to say as well.

before you could bid him goodbye and call it a day, your eyes widened when you saw the solemn look on his face as he muttered something under his breath and avoided your gaze.

"did i love you too late?"

it was almost inaudible, but you managed to hear the words that (accidentally) slipped past his lips.

you could tell that he was being sincere.

"what?" you said in disbelief, causing a wave of panic to wash over phainon. but before he could say a word, you beat him into it.

"and here i thought I was only imagining things." you stifled a laugh and you were now facing him entirely. "please, look at me." he did as what you have told him.

and there it is, the look in your eyes, the one he had been longing to see.

"you're never too late, phai. I might have moved on and lost feelings for a while, but somehow, my heart found its way back to you again. it's odd, but i'm not complaining. with all the things that's been happening between us, i couldn't help myself from clinging onto the hopes that maybe things would be different this time. so..."

"phainon, if you truly love me... can you promise me to hold and take good care of my fragile heart this time?"

phainon stood frozen, his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted in surprise. it was rare to see you express your feelings so openly, and the weight of your words hung in the air between you. He felt a sudden rush of joy, disbelief, and a slight vulnerability, all mixed together.

as your words sunk in, a bright smile replaced the solemn expression he had on his face. his eyes lit up, sparkling with warmth. you almost found yourself laughing at the sight of his imaginary fluffy dog ears perking up with excitement and his imaginary tail wagging furiously behind him.

after a moment, he finally answered, his voice steady and sincere. "i promise to and i will hold, cherish, and protect your fragile heart with everything i have."

he swore to the whole universe, that he won't let you down. and this time, he will show you how much you mean to him.

there is never too early, nor too late for you to love someone. it isn't something to rush on, as there will always be a right time for love to bloom like a beautiful flower.

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note/s: my tumblr was lagging when i pasted everything from my notes LMAOOO, + let me know if there's an error or you could share your opinion! (I would honestly love that, so feel free to drop your opinions, chat!) + did you all know that I based this on the things that had happened to me and my past crush? (Not entirely, it's mostly on the amusement park part and the reader's crying part LMAO)

silly taggies! @sqgeism , @strawbairicake, @unabashedlyfamousprince

masterlist!

#˚₊‧꒰ა serendipity and sweet tales ໒꒱ ‧₊˚#i can finally sleep (/j i can't sleep send help)#phainon x reader #hsr x reader #phainon hsr x reader

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