#dorotea arnault

[fortunei]

Second opinion (1/?)

rating: k+

pairing: Annette/Ingrid

wordcount: 1k~

“Ingrid is torn to choose between the two people circulating around her life. Unknown to her, there’s eventually an elephant in the room – and for so many times, she’s just failed to see.”

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It is not the first time for Ingrid to tell her fellow part-timers about her recurring problem, and likely it won’t be the last.

Actually, she can opt to ask someone else, like her childhood friends for example, instead relying on someone else while she is discussing yet about someone else. Then again, Ingrid knew that her childhood friend won’t be of any help to begin with, especially as it is related to this ‘case sensitive’ things.

Currently, there are two young women about her age revolving around her life as Ingrid is busy juggling between college classes and numerous part-time works to pay her tuition and miscellaneous life fees. Ingrid was not one who think about romance, yet, as these two women advanced—in her vocabulary, anyway—Ingrid grasped that she is in a spot where it is no longer one of those ‘casual relationship’ between two girls.

First, Dorothea Arnault. A beautiful, lovely brunette to everyone’s standard specifically to her childhood friend’s Sylvain standard. If Ingrid about to borrow Sylvain’s way of description, Dorothea got a dynamite body and voice of a siren.

Okay, that was not the important point.

Dorothea and Ingrid first met not in the Garreg Mach University, but in that very coffee shop with Dorothea coming as a customer and Ingrid happened to miswrite her name as ‘Dorotea’ on her order of black coffee. The girl was amused, though, rather than angry. Ingrid remembered how she doubled over and told her friend, Edelgard, who’s sitting with a bored look at the corner of the café with her espresso waiting for the brunette to calm down.

After that, Dorothea remembered Ingrid’s name and visited the café often … until Dorothea scribbled her phone number on the in-the-house mug, along with a kiss mark and a sign from the diva.

“—and then, Dorothea asking you for a date again this weekend?” Annette, her aforementioned fellow part-timer confidant, interrupts.

“No, not this weekend. Though she said if I want to see her performance at the Mittelfrank Opera troupe, I’m welcome to visit,” Ingrid replies. Annette gave her a look.

“How’s that different from asking for a date?” the orange-haired woman let out a dry laugh.

“That’s … not that directly, right?” Ingrid furrows her brows.

Annette rests her chin on her palm, her expression alternates between giving Ingrid a sharp glare or just a tired sigh. “Oh, you. No wonder Dorothea is exasperated.”

There are currently only the two of them in a break room for a half hour break. Lion House Café has a little number of female workers in due to unknown reason, mostly Ingrid will be there as the sole female part-timer, or there will be Annette or the second-in-command manager Mercedes, or it is them both.

Annette didn’t take off the store apron and busied herself with something else—notes of something, presumably her college stuffs—Annette would be there to lend her ear. Ingrid didn’t really remember how exactly it is started, then again Annette has been someone who’s easy to talk with.

“Then, is it about Bernadetta?” Annette changes the topic. Her hands folded neatly on the table. Annette sure knows her well.

The second person of interest, Bernadetta Varley, is Ingrid’s flat mates right next door.

As Ingrid is too busy to even know her neighbors, she knew about Bernadetta from her other childhood friend Felix, in which at times Ingrid found it strange when she traced it back as Felix is not exactly a sociable person. Felix said something about a girl who holed up in her room and only going out to take care of plants nearby Business major’s building.

Knowing how Bernadetta holed up in her room reminded Ingrid of her past, she helped Bernadetta to be out. Then, as Bernadetta operated normally now (by normal, she is seen more outside), she repaid Ingrid’s kindness with home cooking, which Ingrid found it hard to decline. Breakfast, often lunch too when Ingrid is around the flat.

The blonde nodded in affirmation. “She started to cook for dinner as well.”

“That’s so sweet of her.”

“But isn’t it … too much? I mean, isn’t it strange? It looks like I took an advantage of her.” Ingrid explains. Annette crooks her brow for a bit, tapping the tip of her pencil beside her open notebook.

“No, you don’t. I think Bernadetta is being kind to you because she wanted to,” Annette’s tone is positive and reassuring. Somehow, Ingrid is close to believe that it is okay. “So it shouldn’t be a problem, just make sure you thank her after every meal.”

“I did, don’t worry.”

Ingrid recounts inwardly how many times Bernadetta stuttered after Ingrid conveyed her heartfelt thanks after every meal. But perhaps, such details is of no concern to Annette. She could only hope that it won’t be a problem later, for her to be cooked a frequent, lavish meal, and on top of it, for free.

“By the way. Do you want some coffee, Ingrid? Dedue has unloaded a new Jamaica beans earlier. He asked for us to give a taste.”

“Sure thing.”

Ingrid watches as Annette bounces on her step as she gingerly reaches for the exit and then to the direction of the espresso machine by the left, bumping with Ashe along the way before the door closes.

Annette happened to be in the same shift with Ingrid three times a week this month, one at night and two for the day shift. Ingrid thought it would be a good chance to talk with Annette now, since the afternoon will be the busiest hour of that café.

Not long, Annette is back with two paper cups of piping hot coffee. She places the cups away from her book, as to avoid spilling, Ingrid holds both cups and wait for Annette to sit before giving back her share of cup.

“I don’t know if you want more sugar or syrup, but please help yourself. I’m trying to memorize the notes.”

“Oh, sorry. Did I bother you with my babbling?” Ingrid shot an apologetic look.

“Not at all!” Annette beams, taking sip on her coffee cup. “Ouch, it is hot!”

“Careful, Annette.”

Ingrid shields the open book, pries it away as Annette tumbles a bit after the stinging hot coffee impact. It would be bad if her notes for tests are ruined, is what Ingrid had in mind first. Then, back to Annette, trying to help the orange-haired woman steady herself before the coffee happened to spill on her clothes.

“Ah, oh, thank you, Ingrid.” Annette says. She put the cup on the table. Ingrid shuffles to get a glass of water from the break room’s dispenser, handing it to her. “God, why am I so clumsy?”

“It just happens, no need to mull over it.” Ingrid tries to calm her down. “Also, it is the least I can do to help since you’re always listening to my problems.”

Annette chuckles, “No need for such formalities. Friends help each other, after all~”

“Then, I’ll help you next to be as silent as possible as you memorized your notes.” The blonde adds.

“If you say so.”

Annette accepted the offer, so it seems. Ingrid glances to the wall clock, there is a good fifteen minutes. It should be enough time for a little study and maybe she can check her phone quietly at the meantime.

Ingrid looks down to the spread books belonged to Annette, noticing the small, meticulous writing across the pages. Sometimes there’s a note with different-colored ink, or a phrase that’s highlighted. There also scatters of arrows connecting points of the lecture. Numerous stick notes jutting out from the handbook is also correspondent to the stick notes glued to the notebook pages. Everything seems to be planned out well.

“Um, Ingrid?”

“Yes?”

“Mind if … you don’t look at my writings? It’s, uhh, messy.” On the response, Annette places both hands on the page. Ingrid blinks.

“But your writings are cute. And everything is in order, unlike me.” Ingrid comments. She blows on her own cup before taking sip. It is bitter, but the acidity level is just perfect. “I hardly take notes during lectures.”

“You didn’t?”

“I’d prefer to be out exercising, but, yeah. I can manage just fine without too much notes. I guess I’m just lazy.”

Annette is scribbling something on the side, another note to a phrase she lined. “People have a different approach on studying, so I can’t really say whether your chosen way is classified as lazy or not.”

“You know, Annette. You’re so convincing,” Ingrid finds herself saying, almost blurting. The orange-haired woman looks up, perplexed.

“It’s not in the bad way, what I meant is when you said something so positive, I feel that everything is going to be okay, and that really is a good feeling.”

There is a pause, Annette’s lips hang open. She breaks away the eye contact to continue on the notes that she left upon listening in. Ingrid was confused of the sudden silence, but she digressed, respected Annette’s choice to remain silent until their break time is over.

Ashe and Dedue entered as soon as the clock struck to 2 PM, seemingly to talk animatedly about types of coffee beans. Ingrid raises from her seat and waves at them, while on the corner of her eyes, she saw Annette closed her notebooks and collected her study kits in hurry. She straighten up, bid a good work to both boys before walking past the door just in front of Ingrid.

What’s up with her? Ingrid wasn’t sure of what to say, but they must continue the shift anyway. Even if it is with all the awkward silence.

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thanks to one sweet person, I just want to say that ‘dorotea’ on my promo was done like that because I was writing how you hear it being said. along with why i wrote ‘arnault’ the way I did: it’s pronounciation driven aesthetic because I went full on ‘wow I wanna do some highkey pretty promo’. unlike english variation of pronouncing dorothea as ‘doro-fe-a’, her name on this blog is pronounced as  ‘do-ro-te-a’.