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thiefcat-niao · 6 years

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Ending the Session (Chapter 2)

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Characters/Ships: Gemshipping (Thief King Bakura/Ryou Bakura); Ryou Bakura, Thief King Bakura, Atem, Yugi Mutuo, Zorc Necrophades Rating: T Length: Chapter 2 / 3; 2400 words

Summary:

Into Ryou’s lonely apartment comes a spirit, an ancient power that speaks and manifests through the Ouija board kept beneath the bed. It calls itself Tou, and claims to be human. Ryou believes.

Read on AO3 Previous Chapter – Next Chapter (Coming Soon~)

Chapter Two: A King of Thieves

For nearly a week, Ryou spoke to the spirit daily—sometimes twice daily. Yugi commented that Ryou seemed happier, when they met for coffee. Ryou shrugged off the comment, mumbling some half-truth about doing well in his classes. In reality, his homework hadn't been getting done with quite the level of diligence he usually held himself to.

Ryou hadn't learned much about how the spirit, Tou, had lived, but it didn't much matter. He had learned, in his estimation, many far more important things. Tou was pragmatic, for instance, and jaded, but had an unexpectedly lively sense of humor. At first Ryou had struggled to detect the spirit's jokes, through the toneless board. But he'd also grown far more attuned to the feel of Tou's presence, in his apartment, and fancied that he could sense Tou's general emotional state.

It worried Ryou that the spirit would grow suddenly tense, at times; would flicker with what appeared to be anxiety, or at least agitation, and usually request and end to the session. While Tou always offered fatigue as the explanation—and sometimes it was; Ryou could feel the weight of the spirit's exhaustion—those times were different. Ryou wondered what could cause a spirit like Tou to feel that way, and decided he had no basis with which to even form a hypothesis.

"i know whats keeping me here..." Tou had said, "and its not a thing you can help me deal with..." Ryou wished that that weren't true, but accepted it nevertheless, and so didn't pry.

Ryou stood, one evening, at the stove, preparing diner. The apartment was quiet. He was looking forward to speaking to Tou, later, but for the moment was quite enraptured in his cooking. The sizzling strips of meat made a pleasant crackling, and Ryou hummed along with the sound. They filled the apartment, too, with a heady aroma of meat and herbs, and Ryou bent in over the stove to assess whether or not he needed to add more of any particular seasoning before checking his rice on the rear burner.

The pepper grinder, on the far side of the counter, struck the ground with a jarring crash, and Ryou jumped. He looked around; heard nothing, save for the sizzling of beef in the pan. He glanced down at the pepper, rolling pensively across the floor.

"Tou...?"

The pepper grinder picked up speed suddenly—bumped into Ryou's foot. He smiled.

"Give me a second, okay?" Turning back to the stove, he lowered the heat; checked his rice again, and then scampered from the room. When he returned, he had the Ouija board tucked under his arm. He placed it beside the bloodied cutting board on his counter and opened it.

"Hello, Tou!"

"your dinner smells maddeningly good...” was the immediate reply, and Ryou chuckled.

"Is that all you wanted to tell me?"

"its important...” The pointer moved rapidly, a challenge to read, even for someone as practiced as Ryou. "youre a really good cook...”

"I didn't realize you could smell."

"i can hear and see and smell... i just cant touch or taste... no body yknow..."

"Fair enough."

"i want some of your dinner so badly i could die..."

"I wish you could join me," Ryou said, honestly.

There was a pause, and Ryou tilted his head; waited patiently. He could tell that the spirit hadn't left.

"thanks for talking to me...”

"Of course!" Ryou said, surprised. "I'm happy you want to talk to me, too!"

"its not so common for humans to contact us... not so common for them to be so open either... usually they get freaked out the first time they manage to make contact and then never do it again and usually theyre these stupid kids drunk or just real jerks not the likable type at all...

It was a long, rambling message, and Ryou waited for the pointer to still. Then he said, "I've used the board a lot. I've gotten responses, before, but never a spirit who's come back more than once or twice, let alone actually initiated the contact. It's really nice!"

Again, there was a pause, and when the pointer moved it did so rather slowly. "how do you know im not a bad spirit...”

"I don't, I guess, not for sure. But I don't think you are."

"when i told you i was called tou that was a bit of a lie... half a lie...”

"Oh?" Ryou tilted his head; waited for the spirit to continue.

"i was called touzokuo... king of thieves...”

"Oh. That's a cool title."

"cool you say cool...” The pointer moved so fast it almost jarred Ryou's hand free, and he jumped. "hahahahahaha... youre weird you know that... king of thieves is what they call a bad guy... i was a bad guy when i was alive...”

"That doesn't mean you're a bad spirit, now that you're not alive," Ryou said patiently, and the pointer fell still. There was the faint smell of something beginning to burn.

"youre a kind person to say that... but you should be careful... i had quite a reputation as not only a thief... but a killer..."

"I don't sense any blood-lust from you now, though," Ryou said, and the spirit was silent. "You aren't a bad spirit. I may not have any way to know, but I'm sure of it."

The pointer stayed still, for another moment, and then moved toward "goodbye." Ryou hurried to ask another question before it got there.

"What was your favorite food, when you were alive?!" he blurted—the first thing that came to his mind. To his relief, the pointer stilled.

"roast pig..." was the slow response, after a beat. Ryou smiled, relieved.

"Really? I'm more of a dessert person, myself, but savory foods can be really good. Especially when you're hungry."

"aha... thats very true..."

"Were you hungry, a lot? Is that why you became a thief?"

"dont try to make excuses for what i just told you..."

"I'm not," Ryou huffed, a bit indignant. "I just want to know you better. I want to understand you."

"i was hungry..." the thief said, after a moment. "i was angry too... i wanted to get back at the whole world..."

Ryou considered that, then said, "I wish you could join me, for supper."

"your foods starting to burn... you should get that... itd be tragic to ruin it..."

Ryou nodded, but as he went to leave the board, some near-physical force held his hand to the pointer.

"r-y-o-u" the spirit spelled out, with a force that surprised the human boy. "end the session... never leave without saying goodbye... youve used the board enough to know that..."

Ryou hesitated, then nodded. "Sorry. You're right, of course... Goodbye, Tou."

And the pointer, in response, moved to, "goodbye".

... ... ...

Ryou stifled a yawn; popped a piece for chocolate into his mouth, and took a swallow of coffee. The apartment felt unusually empty—devoid, in a rare moment, of spirits. And, though he knew he should sleep, Ryou had to take the opportunity to do research while he had the apartment to himself. So there he sat, at his desk, the light of the computer screen tinting his white hair light blue.

"King of Thieves... Thief King... Touzokuo..."

So far, he hadn't found any historical figures matching those titles, but they were sufficiently vague enough to render standard search engines all but useless.

It was three in the morning; Ryou took another sip of his coffee.

'Didn't he say... wait, that garbled message...'

Scrabbling through some papers beneath his bed, Ryou found the notebook he'd had during his first conversation with the spirit that called itself Touzokuo. He returned to his desk, then looked at the word that hadn't made any sense, at the time; the word he'd assumed to be some sort of spiritual typo: nedjem.

Ryou ate another piece of candy; it had a pressed brown sugar center inside of milk chocolate, and he let it melt in his mouth, feeling the graininess as he rubbed his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He typed "nedjem" into the computer, and hit enter.

At first, nothing interesting showed up—the search engine tried to autocorrect his query to needed. So he tried "meaning of word nedjem," and hit enter once again.

A... carob pod...?

Ryou's eyes widened slightly as he stared, surprised, at the hieroglyph that had appeared on his screen. He clicked on the first result, and read aloud, "Ancient Egyptian hieroglyph signifying 'sweet,' represented visually by a carob pod and thought to be said as 'nedjem.' One instance documents a doubling of the symbol, presumably read 'nedjemnedjem,' to indicate a pleasing concubine."

Ryou took a deep breath; tasted the sugar thick on his tongue, and took a drink of coffee to wash it down.

Ancient... Egypt...

It made sense, the more he thought about it. Though he'd passed off the spirit's reference to Anubis, Anubis being a fairly well-known symbol of death even in modern times, it made a lot more sense if he considered it as an influence of the spirit's original culture.

So what did I ask? Why "nedjem"?

He had asked what the spirit was called—Tou. He'd asked what the spirit was—h-u-m-a-n. He'd asked if the spirit had made contact with the living before—once or twice.

Ryou ate a marshmallowy piece of candy that got stuck in his teeth, and momentarily distracted himself getting it out with his tongue.

Then, it struck him.

"youre odd... different from others ive talked to..."

"Really? How so?"

"n-e-d-j-e-m"

Ryou's hands flew to his face, and he tried not to read into the odd answer, now that he knew what the long-extinct word meant. After a few more fruitless internet searches, he'd worked himself into enough of a frenzy that the mere thought of sleep was impossible. And, the internet having failed him, he reached for his cell phone and knocked his pencil holder off his desk in the attempt.

... ... ...

"Hnn..." Yugi Mutou raised his head as his cheerful ringtone cut through the silence. He dragged himself to the side of the bed, ignoring the bleary, angry muttering of the man sleeping beside him, and observed the time on the glowing screen—3:47—and the name. "Unh... Ryou-kun...? What is it...?"

"Yugi-kun! Ah, I'm so sorry, did I wake you?"

"Ryou-kun, it's almost four in the morning..." Yugi stifled a yawn; listened to his friend squeak and shuffle frantically on the other end of the line.

"I-I'm so sorry! I-I forgot, for a second... haha! I can call back tomorrow, if—"

"Ryou, I'm awake. What's up?" Yugi settled in, arms folded beneath his chin and atop his pillow.

"Ahh—! O-Okay, then... well... has Atem ever mentioned a legendary Thief King, from Ancient Egypt?"

"Thief King?" Yugi echoed, and was startled when his bed-partner bolted suddenly upright. "Atem! What's—?!"

"Who's on the phone, Yugi?"

"Great Ra..." Yugi breathed, and Ryou made a questioning sound. "Hey, Atem just woke up... Do you want to talk to him?"

"Oh Yugi, that would be wonderful! Are you sure he wouldn't mind?"

"Give me the phone, Yugi," Atem commanded, though his eyes were shadowed with sleep and his hair was sticking out to the side, as opposed to his usual vertical spikes.

"He wouldn't mind at all," Yugi told Ryou, and then held out the phone to his boyfriend.

"Oh! Atem! Sorry to bother, at this hour, I just... got all caught up, and—"

"Out with it, Bakura," Atem commanded, and Ryou squeaked. "What's this about the Thief King?"

"I just... well, you're an Egyptologist, after all, and that's where you're from, anyway, so I figured if anyone would know anything about—"

"Where did you hear about the Thief King, though?" Atem demanded, and Ryou swallowed audibly.

"So there is something..."

"Bakura, tell me where you heard that title," Atem said, his voice low and almost threatening. Yugi pulled worriedly at the sleeve of his nightshirt.

"I just... I mean... a friend. A friend mentioned him." Ryou's voice was shaking.

"Don't lie to me, Ryou Bakura."

"Atem, don't scare him," Yugi implored. "You know how he is..."

"O-Okay..." Ryou began hesitantly. "Y-You know how I like to play around with Ouija boards, occasionally...?"

Atem scrambled up; stumbled from the bed, much to Yugi's increased distress, and cursed as he tripped over a discarded piece of clothing. "You didn't. Tell me you're not going to say what I think you're about to say, Bakura. Tell me you don't have the spirit of the Thief King in your apartment."

"Well, not at this exact moment, but—"

"Great Ra!" Atem fumbled with his coat; threw it on over his nightclothes as Yugi began to follow him from the bed. "Okay, Bakura, I need you to leave that apartment immediately, do you understand? I'm coming to get you."

"Wait, what?!" Ryou spluttered, and Yugi called out his boyfriend's name in confusion. Atem ignored them both.

"This—this is why Ouija boards have a bad reputation, Ryou," Atem continued, hopping into his shoes. "You've gone and summoned something bad, now, something very bad, and—"

"Tou wouldn't hurt me!" Ryou objected suddenly, and Atem cursed.

"Listen to me, Ryou—the so-called Thief King is a demon-god. You know I was a pharaoh in a previous life, don't you? I lived during the same time as the Thief King."

"You knew him?!"

"I killed him, Bakura, when he tried to kill me! After he—!" Atem cut himself off; muttered a curse. "He isn't human—he's a demon, as I said, a demon called Zorc, who took on human form to kill the pharaoh—to kill me, and those I loved."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Ryou objected.

"He's deceiving you! He's the best damned liar I've ever met in any lifetime, believe me, and now he's lying to you! I'm coming over, okay? You stay on the phone with me now, and—Bastet!" Atem cursed.

Yugi—a few steps behind him, on the way to the door—yelped. "What?!"

"Little asshole hung up on me!" Atem fumed; handed Yugi his phone. "Try to call him. We're going to his apartment."

"Atem, is he... really in danger...?"

"Not unless he's done something really stupid like opened a portal..." Atem muttered, flinging the door open and flying down the apartment stairs, Yugi on his heals. "Gods... let him be safe... I can't lose another friend... not to that bastard Thief King... not in this lifetime..."

#gemshipping #thief king bakura #ryou bakura #yu-gi-oh #fanfiction #fanfic #niao writes things

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clove-teasdale · 6 years

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holmes & watson at the ball

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A/N: challenge #4! I asked for two more days cause I had a lot of things this week (IM OFFICIALLY 18 YALL. FIRST FIC FINISHED AS A TECHNICAL ADULT(?)) Anyhow. Here is the fic. I was still pretty busy today so this might suck but thERE IS PROGRESS SO. have fun reading and forgive any weird writing or typos. Ft. detective crooks ™, one of my guard ocs cause I always bring one up lol & nate. Thanks @brooks-schreave @nathaniel-schreave @eloiseduval for the rps that couldn’t all be included so this wasn’t a monster fic. around 3,2k words

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“Your drink, Lady,” Rogers said, offering me a glass with a half bow as a joke. I snorted, but accepted it, taking a sip of the mysterious orange-tinged drink and tasting the alcohol.

“Well, Officer Rogers,” I stated dramatically, ready to tease him. “I doubt your commanding officer will approve of you giving alcohol to a Selected.”

He gave me a fake glare. “You said to surprise you. I just complied with a cocktail. Besides, it’s not like you’re not old enough.” His amused grin disappeared when I raised both eyebrows, silently asking, ‘am I though?’ He took the drink from my hand and set it on the silver platter of a passing servant. “Never mind.”

I laughed and stole his drink instead. His was just cider, which is what I would’ve asked for if it weren’t for my curiosity of what he would bring otherwise. “I see you like to keep it clean.”

He nodded, gladly taking my comment as a compliment and glancing at the ballroom. “I’m technically still on duty.”

“Fair point.”

I watched the beautifully decored ballroom too, in the midst of couples, spotting Eloise now done with Officer Barnes and dancing with Brooks. The prince looked different in his suit. A good different as he laughed at something our shared friend had told him. The brat kinda had a nice laugh… but anyway, that left my options to be, hanging around Rogers, chatting it up with another Selected or finding someone else to dance with.

I knew at some point of the night I would end up dancing with Brooks since we’d agreed to do so when our lead arrived, but that wouldn’t happen at the moment. Eventually, I was certain Rogers would be asked by another young Lady to dance with him. With no doubt, his good looks would help him. That meant I needed to figure out what I’d do next. My goal of making at least one friend so far had been accomplished with Eloise, but I had yet to establish any meaningful conversations with anyone else.

I was planning on it. Really, I was. But I was always too busy with research on the journal–or actually, any excuse I could come up with. After the success of Marshall’s birthday party, I considered her to be a good prospect though. For a moment, I thought I could try talking with her tonight. Even someone else for the sake of trying.

Many of the girls seemed to be getting a bit too excited about the variety of beverages available, however, and I did not do well with drunk people. While searching for sober familiar faces, I found the one prince we were all supposed to be there for. Finally free to talk.

“Go ahead,” Rogers teased when he noticed where my glance was.

I rolled my eyes, but handed him the glass back, telling him to shut up and walking over to Nate. Tapping his shoulder, I said, “Hello there,” and he turned around.

“Hey, how are you?”

“Quite free to dance at the moment.”

“Well so am I, would you care to dance?” He held out his hand for me to take.

“My, how unexpected of you Nate. It would be a pleasure.”

“Hello, dear Nathaniel.”

Brooks. A mischievous smile on his face and a confused Eloise on his hand as he approached me and Nate mid-dance. Stealing my hand from Nate’s, he changed my place with Eloise and told them to have fun. With no further explanation, he dragged me away.

“Hi.”

That wasn’t how I’d expected him to ask me to dance. Not now. Once I’d offered Eloise and Nate a polite smile, I gave him a deadpan look. “Was there no better moment for this?”

“Nope. See that guy?” He gestured towards a group of men that were clearly advisers. His hand was on my waist and my own on his shoulder as we easily slipped into our waltz. “That’s William Holt, father of the advisor John Holt, and one of the names mentioned in the journal.”

I spared them a glance as casually as possible. W.H. “Our mystery initials from the notes?”

“Yes, dear, our mystery initials.” I did my best not to roll eyes at the grin accompanying his joking ‘dear’ and let him continue. “I spoke a bit to some advisors, and I think he’s here on business. There’s been some talk of someone stealing books from the restricted section of the library.”

I raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “My, my… is that so? No wonder I never saw that journal while I was there. I had no access.”

A smirk of his own spread across his face as he whispered, “Neither did I. But tell me, why are they so fascinated that book is gone?”

“Guess we’re on the right track.”

“I have a plan. I’ve noticed key advisors have been flocking around him deep in some random conversation. If we stay close, we may find something.”

“Lead the way…Highness.”

Dancing us towards the men, I could see the same excitement coming off him as I’d seen the day before when I told him about the ink. It was kinda cute to see that childlike enthusiasm. “Be very quiet and listen.”

Once we were at the required distance to do so, I acted as if nothing was more important than our dancing, in reality, eavesdrop alongside Brooks on what the group was saying. They were too immersed in conversation to care about us or the other couples nearby. Nobody was supposed to be interested in their conversation anyway.

William Holt was older than my father but still managed to look decent. His son, John, did not share his silver hair yet but had the same cheekbones and bushy eyebrows.

“I figured this would happen. It’s a bit soon though,” William complained to the others. None appeared too concerned except John, however.

“Aren’t you worried who has it?”

William took a drink. “My bet is Levi.”

I exchanged looks with Brooks at the mention of a name.

“After all these years? He’s ancient by now.”

“He was always a resourceful one.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“Last I checked, Harrison still lives downtown. He throws some annual New Year’s Eve party. We’ll check him out after that. We wouldn’t want to draw suspicion.” William finished his drink after that as his son and the rest of the advisers nodded in agreement.

I mouthed, ‘journal?’ to Brooks and he danced us away to talk.

“We’ve gotta find that Levi guy.”

“Can we be sure he’s our guy?” I wondered. “I mean, he’s definitely related to the whole ordeal, but he might not be the writer of the annotations.”

“Regardless, it’s a lead. He may know who wrote them.”

His hand played with the fabric on the back of my dress as he spoke. I did my best to ignore it, unsure he was even aware he was doing it. Why I didn’t feel the need to mention it was also beyond me.

“Fair enough. We should check this guy out…But later.”

“You’re right,” he nodded, “We have to stay at the ball for a while longer. I’ll get in trouble if I leave.”

“Such a tragedy,” I said with an eye roll, but my sight drifted soon after to the advisers talking around the room. Dad hadn’t come and I pursed my lips, mumbling, “Strange…” at the realization. He hadn’t called me since his last visit, but I assumed he’d be here. He never missed events.

Before I could debate any possibilities in my head, Brooks spun me around. That earned him a laugh as he said, “Riveting.”

“What is?”

“This whole thing. I feel like I’m a part of the Scooby Gang.”

“A two-person gang?” I asked, amused.

As our investigation hit a pause, I found myself truthfully focused on dancing again, taking more deliberate strides as I watched my feet and smiled. All thanks to one name. I couldn’t help but feel excited. One step closer to the truth. “There’s always Holmes and Watson, you know? I’ll let you be my John.”

“John, really?” Brooks almost scoffed. “Dream on.”

“He’s very important too, don’t belittle the guy.”

“He’s the sidekick, Clove. I’m obviously the main attraction here.”

I let out a single laugh but noticed the small smile he gave me. “Don’t flatter yourself that much, Brooks. And stop insulting John! He had the heart of the team… well, depending on the adaptation.”

“If you prefer him so much, you can be him. I insist.”

I rolled my eyes and smiled smugly. “Need I remind you who of us managed to decipher that horrid writing and translate it?”

“Need I remind you of,” he twirled me again, “who started this in the first place?”

I feigned offense with a gasp, not missing a beat on my steps though. “I was doing my own research before you came along in case you weren’t aware.”

“But I definitely sped things up for you, didn’t I? Admit it. You needed me.”

“I had already admitted that… in my head, at least. From day one, that’s why I agreed to work with you. You needed my help as much as I needed yours. We wouldn’t have gotten far without each other.” I cleared my throat, noticing how my last sentence sounded and clarified, “Each other’s help, I mean.”

As I watched the way his lips parted to reveal a small smile, his cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. “I really do appreciate your help. I hope you know that.”

Unable to drift my gaze away, I smiled too, pleasantly surprised by the sincere tone of his voice–the honesty, lacking any hint of sarcasm this once. “Well, now I know…I’m glad to be included.” It was strange to feel shy at the admission, but I only averted my eyes for a second and then looked back up. “It seems my help on other matters served its purpose too.”

“What do you mean?”

“No stepping on feet so far…and I haven’t been spun into oblivion either,” I teased and he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t jinx me.”

I chuckled. “Just keep it up.”

The song slowed down even more as he pulled me closer, like when we’d whispered to each other during dancing practice. The difference was that this time, his hand also covered the back of mine and pulled it to rest against his chest. I wasn’t sure if I imagined his heartbeat or not.

“Only for you.” His voice was dramatic as if it were one of his many jokes. Nonetheless, it somehow felt like there was some truth behind the words.

Blinking up at him, I was unable to reply for a few seconds at the change of positions. My head kept making mental notes that seemed rather unnecessary, such as the warmth of his hand seeping into mine. The way my heart almost fluttered at the proximity of our faces. The smell of hazelnut on him. My lack of concern for how close we were to each other. It felt very different from yesterday’s practice.

I rolled eyes at his joking tone, but when meeting his gaze again, a lump formed in my throat. I hoped my freckles would hide my slight blush as I said, “Lucky me.”

A small laugh. “As a gentleman, I feel like I should compliment you.”

I chuckled softly too. “But as Brooks, you must mock me, I’m sure.”

“No.” He paused. “A gentleman would feel required to tell you how lovely you look, but Brooks… I would mean it.”

My heartbeat was definitely skyrocketing now and I wasn’t sure why or how to make it stop. He’s just being nice. I stared down at my dress, smiling. Hopefully, not too awkwardly. That was actually… really sweet of him to say.

“Is that so? Well, you look quite handsome yourself.” I kept the tone light and decided not to make a big deal out of it. “Not too bad…”

“The word you’re looking for is ‘dashing’.”

“How very humble of you.”

A while later, the song came to an end and he released my hand slowly. I kinda missed the feeling of it wrapped around mine. “Meet me at the door when I signal you. We can research the address of that guy. We don’t have a lot of time until New Year’s Eve.”

An hour or so later, when I’d danced with Barnes, some politicians and chatted up with Eloise about that new trinket around her neck upon her return to the ballroom, I saw Brooks near the exit, brushing a thumb over his nose. I returned the signal and made sure no one was watching before walking over.

Brooks pulled me out into the hallway. “Sorry if I cut your evening short.”

“We have to figure this out anyway. It’s the best lead we’ve got.”

He nodded and led the way to another part of the palace forbidden for the Selected. Once there, he gestured for me to be silent and got a key from his pocket. I kept a lookout as he opened the door cautiously. I had to reprimand myself for suddenly agreeing on his Scooby gang comparison.

He let me walk in first and closed the door softly behind him. I decided to ask where he’d gotten that key at another moment and followed him as he swiftly made his way to the single computer in the room. Technology had been making a comeback amongst some crowds in the past years but was still pretty rare.

Despite that, Brooks didn’t seem to have a problem browsing the computer. “This is where they keep the online files of addresses, birthdates, castes, stuff like that. All we have to do is look at past advisors and search for a Harrison Levi.”

My finger traced the top of the old equipment as I took a glance at the other file cabinets and bookshelves in the room. “In how much trouble would we be if we were caught here?”

“Lots and lots.” He glanced up from his typing quickly and asked, “Why?”

I focused on the different folders he was opening on the screen. “Aren’t you concerned?”

“I’ve spent my entire life being nervous about things. I’m past the point of nerves now.” The relentless sound of clicking echoed in the room as he continued. “Here’s the page. We just need to let it load now, which could take…” he squinted at the screen, “a while.”

“Just because I’ve avoided being caught before doesn’t stop me from being nervous, sadly. Especially because this is so much worse than just being out after curfew. I don’t entirely mind the adrenaline, simply want to know how much I’m risking here.”

He replied nothing at first and began humming instead. I couldn’t stop the memory of our duet from crossing my mind.

And all I’ve seen since eighteen hours ago is blue eyes and freckles and your smile… Spinning around in his swivel chair, he faced me, a hint of uncertainty in his features. “I really am sorry to have pulled you away from the Ball.”

I tried to wave away his insecurity. “It’s fine. I had already danced enough and made my presence.” Moving the edges of my skirt, I made the fabric dance around my legs and added with a shrug, “And I got to wear a pretty dress so…”

“You’re not upset I pulled you away from Nate? I know it’s hard to get time with him.”

“He’s a busy guy, but what we got was good. He has a lot of other girls to worry about more than me.” I thought about our conversation during the ball again. I did feel good around Nate, but not like there was something yet. I even brought up the word ‘friend’ without a care in the world. “I‘m pretty sure what we have will always be a friendship and that’s okay.”

Brooks lifted both eyebrows. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, that’s what it feels like… I like him, but not in that way, you know? Some others already seem to have feelings for him and as much as I care for him it’s not… romantic. I came here knowing love had a very slim chance of striking, so I’m not that disappointed I guess,” I spared him a glance, “Why so surprised?”

He repressed a smile and turned back to the computer. “I’ve always shown an interest in your love life, haven’t I? I’m nosy like that.”

I clicked my tongue and narrowed my eyes at him. Smiling was unavoidable though. “You’re still horrible.” Leaning forward to take a closer look at the screen, I asked if there was a match yet. The computer seemed to continue running over a million old archives, however.

From the corner of my eye, I thought I saw him spare me a glance, like my proximity made him nervous, but the screen finally loaded and stole my attention away. The profile picture of a man in his early thirties had popped up along other windows behind it. The photo was not recent, of course. It had to be from the days this man worked as part of the royal cabinet. Ginger hair and lively green eyes had once gazed upon a camera for that picture.

“It’s a match, holy shoot, it’s a match!”

Leaning even closer to the screen and reaching for the mouse over Brooks, I held back the euphoria bubbling in my stomach, clicking on the other windows to see more information. His files confirmed his years working with the royal family as an adviser. His early resignation did not go unnoticed, but a few clicks later I found what I was searching for.

In a handful of documents, one of them contained his signature. My eyes widen as I read aloud, “Harrison Levi… It’s the same handwriting.” A grin slowly took over my face, “the strokes and loops, the way he strings the letters together.” I turned to Brooks with a wide smile. “It’s him. He wrote the annotations.”

He didn’t move for an instant as if he’d been watching me from the moment I opened my mouth with some sort of fascination. The second passed by fast and he stood up. “Do you know what this means? Clove, we have his address. We can find this guy!”

Running a hand through my hair, I looked back at Brooks, beaming with excitement. “We found him…He’s alive and we know where he lives.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “We even have a party to crash!”

He ran a hand through his hair as well, full of disbelief, in the frenzy of our eureka moment, picking me up, hands on my waist as he swung me around in a thrill. All I could do was chuckle with the same happiness and anticipation. A sense of butterflies in my stomach I finally understood.

Nothing could’ve prepared me for what happened right after, however.

#challenges #//fics #//crooks #brooks tag #nate tag #eloise tag #barnes and rogers tag #//conspiracy #ending hmmmm

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