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perplexedflower · 1 year

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Weathering The Storm

Fandom: Professor Layton.

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Hershel Layton x Female Reader.

Type: One shot.

Words: 9,526.

Summary: A trip to America having taken an unexpected turn, a thunderstorm crashing the party, Luke having fallen ill… Under such circumstances, [Y/N] and Hershel have no other choice but to seek warmth and comfort inside her home, but little did they know that the real shelter is their love for each other.

Chronology: Any game.

~~~~~~~~~~

In a bang, [Y/N] opened the door fully, barging into the house, followed closely by Layton, standing behind her. Hurrying inside, she let the way into the hall open to him, before she closed the front door behind him after he had entered.

"Take Luke into your bedroom." She told him in the form of an order, one he did not mind being given considering the circumstances.

So, without saying a word, the Professor promptly made his way to his bedroom, carrying his young apprentice in his arms, and leaving multiple, wet sets of footprints behind him. [Y/N] followed after him and watched him approach the bed before he set the boy down on it, on top of the bedsheets.

She stepped closer to him as Layton leaned forward and rested a wet hand on Luke's equally-as-wet forehead with a pensive expression.

"The wetness of his skin makes the estimation a little complex, but it would seem he has a slight fever." He said after a soft sigh.

"Well, then it's as we suspected: Luke must have caught a cold of some kind." She declared as she squinted her eyes just slightly. "But... how is that even possible? I know we did run under the rain, but it didn't feel like we were caught in the storm for that long, not long enough it would cause someone to fall sick..."

"Indeed, this is rather odd." Layton stated as he crossed one arm on his chest and rested his other hand on his chin.

As [Y/N] stared at Luke with a worried look, the Professor adopted a more reflective expression while closing his eyes.

Perhaps Luke's physical condition was already not at its best by the time the rainstorm hit. He thought to himself. After all, we awoke at dawn this morning and spent the entire day walking without having barely had any time to sit down and relax... But even then, Luke should—

"Either way, 'how' and 'why' don't matter much right now." [Y/N] spoke up, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Luke is undeniably ill, and his condition will only worsen the longer he remains drenched. The first thing we should do is dry him up a bit."

With his eyes now open, he looked in front of himself, at her, then down at the poor boy, before he nodded briefly.

"You're right." He said in agreement while he was already starting to make his way out of the room. "Wait here and watch over him as I go gather us some towels, [Y/N]."

She nodded in response, but he had already left her sight, causing her to sigh softly.

I wish Hershel would let me handle some things, instead of taking on every task by himself. She told herself with a slight frown. I would have offered to go to the bathroom to fetch a towel or two myself, but he took off before I could say even a single word...

Before she could dwell on her thoughts for too long, still standing beside the bed, he made his way back into the bedroom, holding a few towels in his arms: picking the largest one out of the stack, he took a step closer to [Y/N] and handed it over to her.

"Here, [Y/N]." He said in his usual serious tone, concealing a strong sense of worry, one she was unaware of.

"Thank you." She told him, just as seriously.

With the towel now in hand, she turned back around and leaned forward over Luke's body, then proceeded to delicately wipe his face with it, along with the rest of his wet skin. And as she did so, Layton stood behind her and opened his eyes wider, visibly surprised.

Unbeknownst to her, I had purposefully picked this towel to give her for herself... and yet her immediate instinct is to pay no attention to her own condition to take care of Luke instead.

As he quietly watched her dab the soft fabric of the towel on Luke's skin, his lips formed a gentle smile while his cheeks were colored with a faint touch of red.

Always putting others before herself, always volunteering to help... always being here for Luke and me... Hm, [Y/N] really hasn't changed a bit.

One day, [Y/N] had come to meet Layton and Luke for the first time, by pure coincidence: the Professor and his apprentice were then working on a case, investigating a mystery, which had just so happened to involve her as well. Though she had no prior experience in detective work and puzzle-solving, she was working the case too, on her end; after she had met them and had become acquainted with them, the three of them had decided to keep the investigation going together, as a team. In the end, they managed to solve that mystery with the help of each other, and this adventure allowed them to get closer and learn more about one another. And after everything had come to an end, [Y/N] and Layton had promised each other to keep in touch, before they had parted ways.

[Y/N], who had now finished drying Luke's skin, held the wet towel in her hands as she took a step away from the bed and turned around to the Professor.

"Alright, I'm done." She declared with a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, [Y/N]." He said with a smile. "However, in order to ensure Luke's fever goes down, we still need to change him out of his soaked clothes and into dry ones."

"Right." She responded with a brief nod of the head.

She turned back to Luke, her towel still over her arm, but froze before her hands even reached his body: only then did she realize it would be relatively awkward for her, a young woman to undress a little boy, even if she was to leave his underwear on.

"... Right." She slowly repeated as she retracted her hands.

With rosy cheeks and a look of discomfort on her face, she turned back to Layton and stared down at the ground.

"I'll... be leaving Luke to you." She told him while she cleared her throat.

"Don't worry, I'm going to take care of him." He reassured her without even an ounce of uneasiness. "In the meantime, you should head to your room to dry yourself and change, as well."

As he said those words, he motioned his right hand toward her clothes, still dripping wet: and after having looked down at herself, she looked up at his face, only to be greeted with a warm smile.

"I wouldn't want you to fall ill, too." He said tenderly.

Still standing in front of him, still admiring the smile he was giving her, she felt the blush on her cheeks intensify.

"Y-Yes." She muttered as she struggled to maintain eye contact with him. "... Thank you, Professor."

With her eyes turned to the ground, she made her way outside of the room as she felt his kind gaze on her, after which he closed the door behind her. Now in the hallway, she tried her best to set her thoughts aside and headed to her bedroom, walking through the dark, dim interior; and as her wet shoes roamed the wooden flooring, she listened to the pouring rain, to the raging wind, to the storm still roaring outside.

There's rarely ever any rain here, who could have known such a storm would hit the town just during our trip? She asked herself while she looked through a window on the way. In fact, with such weather, it doesn't even really feel like we've left London at all...

Very shortly after having met Layton, [Y/N], who originated from America and had been living there all her life had made a rather definitive decision: she had chosen to leave her hometown behind and move to London. Although Britain was in no way her cup of tea, she was convinced of her intention, for she had a reason. As strange as it had been for her, experiencing these kinds of feelings for the first time, she had fallen for the Professor, the second she had met him. The investigation had brought them closer to one another, it had created a bond between them, or, at the very least, a bond she had felt, even if it may not have been the case for him. Whether he had feelings for her as well, she cared little: her adventure alongside him had been one of a kind for her, the very first of this kind, and she wanted to be sure she could experience more of them in the future. A simple promise had not been enough for her, she had wanted to make sure they could see each other and work together again, for certain. So, she had not hesitated long before deciding to pack her things and move to London, much to Layton and Luke's surprise when she had delivered the news to them. But, undeniably, they had also been very happy to have her close. From that point on, the Professor, his young apprentice, and his now-official companion had formed a trio, which would go on to solve mysteries together, all across the country and beyond. A new life that had greatly pleased [Y/N], helping her grow as a person and giving her a sense of purpose, all while her relationship with the Professor had strengthened and evolved, with each passing day.

Before she even knew it, she had reached the doorstep of her bedroom and ordered her thoughts to quiet down as she grabbed the knob and turned it to open the door. Once inside, she approached a small desk set not too far from her bed, on which she had put her suitcase; she unzipped and opened it completely, in search of her dry, clean pajamas for her to change out of her drenched clothes.

As she rummaged through her belongings, her fingers came in contact with an envelope, which made her stop her search to extract it instead: with weary eyes, she contemplated the envelope in her hands, containing the very letter that had brought her, Layton, and Luke there in the first place.

One morning, while the streets of London had been relatively quiet, [Y/N] had been supposed to meet up with Layton and Luke in his office, at Gressenheller University, to relax around a cup of tea; however, as the clock had struck 10 AM, the time of their rendezvous, she had not shown up. The pair could sense it was odd and Layton, growing worried, had decided to head over to her flat to check if everything was in order, while he had asked Luke to stay put and wait for him to return with her. Once standing before [Y/N]'s front door, he gently knocked while asking if she was inside. But as his fingers tapped on the door, it had opened on its own, visibly unlocked already, and he had found the young woman sitting on her sofa, a letter in hand, which she had been seemingly sobbing over. He had stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and made his way to her, before sitting down beside her on the sofa.

"This letter was just delivered to me... It was written and sent by a friend of my family, one of our neighbors residing in America... to let me know my father has recently died after a workplace accident... And as the only child of my parents, all of my father's fortune and inheritance is to become mine, including his house... My presence is requested back in America, in my hometown." She had explained through her tears. "First, my mother, who died when she gave birth to me... and now my father... Deprived of both of my parents... I've become an orphan, Professor..."

Breaking into tears once more, [Y/N] had turned to Layton and embraced him, clinging tight to his chest as she cried in the crook of his neck. Although caught off guard at first, he had promptly embraced her back, holding her close to him and circling her with his arms.

"... Would you like for me to come along to America with you, [Y/N]?" He had asked her after a minute of silence, speaking with politeness and sincere kindness. "You are entirely free to refuse, though I would think it beneficial for you to have company around during these hard times."

"... Please, yes..." She had answered with a slow nod as she had tightened her grasp on him.

[Y/N] reminisced about that day, about that morning, about that moment she had shared with Layton, and she felt once again surrounded by warmth and comfort, just with the sheer memory of having been held in his arms coming back to her, which also reddened her face in the process.

Now's not the time to dive back into memories... especially not ones of this kind. She scolded herself as she put the letter back into her suitcase. I need to hurry up and remove my wet clothes before I grow too cold.

So, she began to undress, starting with her coat, but as she took it off, she sensed something stored inside one of the jetted pockets, before she remembered what it was.

Oh, right, my notebook!

She pulled the notebook out of the pocket and proceeded to promptly inspect it, then sighed in relief.

Phew, it seems it hasn't been damaged by the rain at all. She thought as she flipped the pages one by one. I had already forgotten it was in my pocket... I had already forgotten about the investigation, what with the rainstorm and Luke. But then again, none of us had any idea we would find ourselves investigating here, to begin with...

Barely a day after having received the letter, [Y/N] had gathered some of her belongings and stuffed them inside a suitcase, which she would take with her on her trip to America. As logic would have had it, she and the Professor had thought it more suitable for them to take Luke along with them rather than leave him alone in London, so the young boy and his mentor had packed some luggage as well before the three of them had made the trip together; thankfully for them, everything had gone smoothly and they had made it to America without running into any inconveniences. The trio had arrived in [Y/N]'s hometown in the morning and had first decided to visit her newly-acquired house, in which they would be residing for the time of their stay. After having greeted and exchanged a few words with her friend and neighbor, the young woman had been given the keys to the house. The three of them had explored every room before they had made themselves at home: the house was relatively modest and small, but everything was there, from a bathroom to a kitchen and a living space. However, there were only two bedrooms, both furnished with a double bed, so Layton had designated the arrangement for them.

"Given the house is your property, [Y/N], it is only right for you to occupy one of the bedrooms by yourself, while Luke and myself will occupy the other." He had stated with a smile. "And before you start pouting and arguing, my boy, let me remind you that it is a gentleman's duty to put a lady's needs before his own."

Once their luggage had been set in their respective rooms, the trio had left the house and headed to the center of town: on the way there, [Y/N] had shown Layton and Luke around the neighborhood, then around town, introducing them to a few people and showing them how peaceful and remote of a district it was, far from the rest of the bustling cities. Shortly after the young woman had given them a quick tour of the town, the time had come for her to attend her father's funeral; accompanied by Layton and Luke, she had stood through the ceremony of the burial with a heavy heart. Once the ceremony had come to a close, the Professor had tried lifting her spirits by reminding her their afternoon had just begun, and he had offered for the three of them to take a stroll around town to change her mind. However, as they had done so, they had come face-to-face with the unexpected: what had started as a simple catching-up-with-old-friends for [Y/N] had quickly turned into much more, and through her exchanges with the townsfolk, she had learned of a series of strange mysteries that all tied back to her family house, which was now hers, and extended to most of the neighborhood. Although this trip to America had been planned to last only a day or two, [Y/N], Layton, and Luke were now determined to stay for longer, the time for them to unravel this string of mysteries. And so, they had started their investigation in the afternoon, on which they had worked until the evening came. After a long day filled with questions and surprises, the trio had decided to eat dinner at a local restaurant to unwind. But just as they had walked out of the establishment after having finished eating, the sky turned gray, then completely black, and within a matter of mere seconds, they were caught in the middle of a raging rainstorm, accompanied by strikes of thunder. With no other choice but to call it a day and head back home immediately, they put their investigation on hold for the moment and made their way to the house. However, halfway there, Luke had suddenly started to slow down the pace, and it had not taken long for the two adults to notice something was wrong: just as Layton had kneeled beside him to check on him, the boy had collapsed into his arms, seemingly unconscious, having presumably fallen ill due to the storm. With no time to lose, he had taken him in his arms and carried him under the pouring rain, hurrying back to the house along with [Y/N].

The investigation will have to wait for now. She mentally declared as she closed the small notebook and put it down beside her suitcase. After all, it's about time we get some rest, anyway. I think all three of us have earned a good night of sleep, especially Luke.

With this thought in mind, she continued to undress, removing her soggy clothes one by one and setting them on the backrest of the desk chair: soon enough, she was practically fully naked, and it did not take long for her body to tremble, feeling cold due to how wet her skin was. From where she was standing, she reached for the large towel she had kept with her and grabbed it with one hand, before she wrapped it around her body.

After having dried completely, she removed the towel and changed into her pajamas, which consisted of a tank top and a pair of shorts.

I'm probably going to be a little cold wearing such light clothes under such low temperatures, but I don't have much of a choice. She thought with a sigh as she slipped into her shorts. I didn't pack warm clothes... given the usual weather here, I didn't think it would be needed.

Now dry and changed into something clean, she gathered her clothes in one pile, along with the towel, and exited her bedroom to head to the bathroom. There, she hung them one by one, leaving them to dry for the night; then, she decided to go back to Layton and Luke's bedroom, in order to make sure everything was alright on their side.

She arrived in front of the bedroom door, which was not closed all the way, and pushed it open with the palm of her hand without a second thought. Inside, right in the middle of the room stood the Professor, undoing the last button of his orange shirt, his bare chest partially exposed to her eyes: her eyes, which opened wide at the unexpected sight, a sight that made her entire face turn pink with blush.

"Oh, my goodness—"

As the words quickly spilled out of her mouth, she hurriedly reached for the handle and closed the door in a swift movement.

"I-I'm terribly sorry, P-Professor, I s-should have knocked— My mind was somewhere else, I-I apologize—" She promptly mumbled in haste from the other side of the door.

Inside the room, Layton's hands had come to a stop, his fingers still holding the fabric of his shirt as the tips of his ears grew red.

"It's all right, [Y/N]..." He told her as calmly as he could, pretending to be unfazed.

But the look in his eyes betrayed him, a look that was fortunately for him unseen by her at that moment. Still standing with her back against the door, [Y/N] brought both of her hands up to her face and cupped her cheeks with them as she closed her eyes shut tight.

Let's forget this ever happened, I should go back to my bedroom for now and wait for Hershel to be finished changing before going back in.

But just as she opened her eyes, just as she was about to take a step forward, her attention was caught by a series of sounds coming from inside the room: the sounds of Layton continuing to undress, unaware of [Y/N]'s presence right outside his door. She perceived the rustling of his shirt, which she assumed he had now removed completely, and the sheer mental vision she imagined of him topless was enough to make her close her eyes back, now completely flushed.

But it did not stop there: although her eyes were now closed, her ears picked up on the sound of his belt, which he was seemingly removing from around his waist. The loud rain pouring heavily outside the house seemed to have gone completely silent for but a moment as she listened closely to his hands sliding his pants down his legs, and, before long, she found herself deep in thought, surrounded by her imagination, growing more and more flustered with each passing second.

Only when the door suddenly opened behind her was she brought back to reality, and upon turning around, she realized she had been daydreaming the entire time the Professor was changing, as he was now fully dry and dressed in a thin sweater and a new pair of pants.

With a smile, as if nothing had happened, he looked at her, a smile that greatly contrasted the expression of awkwardness visible on her face.

"You came to check up on Luke, didn't you?" He casually asked her.

"Y-Yes." She answered with a brief nod, every part of her still reeling from what had been crossing her mind just a minute ago.

He stepped to the side, allowing her to see inside the room, to see Luke still lying in bed, and she remained standing at the doorway as she stared at him from a distance, her face displaying both a feeling of sadness and one of relief.

"I made him remove the clothes he was wearing before I put them to dry, then I dressed him in his pyjamas." He told her while he turned to look at the boy, speaking softly so as to not wake him up. "There isn't much left for us to do, now, aside from letting him rest for the night."

As he finished his sentence, he stepped out of the bedroom, joining [Y/N] in the hallway, before he closed the door in front of him. Then, with no specific goal or destination in mind, the two of them started to pace through the hall, walking beside each other as the rain kept on falling just outside the house.

"Speaking of which, Professor, I was wondering: where do you intend on sleeping tonight?" She asked him somewhat concerned while she turned to him. "Since Luke is sick and has to recover, he needs a bed for himself, and you would risk catching his illness if you were to sleep next to him... So, what do you have in mind?"

"Well, I will admit it isn't optimal, but I'm considering staying in the living space for the night." He answered calmly, though with just a hint of bitterness in his tone.

Just when he said this, the two of them arrived in said living space: and just when they did, she stopped herself in her steps to turn her whole body to him.

"Professor, you're not going to sleep here!" She exclaimed with bewilderment as she gestured at the room with her hand.

"I'm afraid no other options are available to us, [Y/N]." He said as he stared at the sofa placed in the middle of the room.

"... Well, there's always my room, my bed." She told him after having pondered briefly.

In a swift yet gentle movement, Layton turned his head to the young woman, a look of shock on his face.

"[Y/N], I couldn't possibly take your bed." He stated while he stared into her eyes. "This is your house, your bedroom, Luke and I are only your guests. Besides, this would mean you would be the one to sleep on this sofa, and I would rather have you sleep comfortably in a bed."

The way he spoke about her made her blush faintly, but it also made her close her eyes with a sigh.

Ugh, why does he always have to be so stubborn? She asked herself with a slow headshake. This pointless bickering will get us nowhere; Hershel wants me to take the bed, and I want him to take it. There has got to be a way to settle this debate...

Holding her chin in one hand for a few seconds, she kept her eyes closed as she continued to think, until a thought crossed her mind, which made her open her eyes back: with blushing cheeks but a resolute smile, she took a step forward and placed herself before him.

"This is my house, right, Professor?" She started smugly, still grinning. "And if it is my house, then it's also my rules, what I say goes. And right now, what I say is that you have to take my bed for the night."

As a man whose intellect allowed him to prepare for every outcome possible, Layton was only ever rarely caught by surprise when the unexpected occurred: but seeing [Y/N] standing before him in such a way, addressing him with such confidence, staring straight into his eyes, he simply could not conceal the astonishment visible on his face.

"I know you're only being your usual, gentlemanly self, Professor, you want what is best for me, and I am grateful for it." She continued in a softer tone. "But I, too, want what is best for you. And I can assure you that it truly doesn't bother me to share my bed with you, if it means you earn the night of peaceful sleep you deserve."

"Share?" He repeated, still astonished, his cheeks now slightly pink.

For just a second, silence reigned. And then, with eyes wide open, [Y/N] gasped lightly.

"Oh— D-Don't get the wrong idea— I didn't... mean it like that—" She promptly explained with a face that had turned completely red. "What I meant was—... This seems to be the only way both of us will settle this disagreement. I figured, considering we each want the other to have the bed for the night, if we both have it, then we will both be satisfied..."

Still standing in front of the young woman whose face was now turned to the ground, Layton found himself at a loss for words.

Such an offer is...

He simply did not know what to think; but as more and more thoughts started to fill his brain, he stared at [Y/N] with blushing cheeks and decided to let his heart guide him.

"... All right." He finally said with a nod, his lips shaped into a shy smile. "After all, you do have a point, your reasoning is quite logical."

Upon hearing he accepted, [Y/N] looked back up at him with an expression of surprise, but that was replaced with one of glee within a matter of a second.

"It's settled, then." She said with her cheeks still sprinkled with blush. "In that case, Professor, you're free to move your trunk into my bedroom, if you wish to go retrieve it from the other bedroom. In the meantime, I will tidy things up in mine."

He responded to her with a silent nod, deprived of words but accompanied by a warm smile. So, while Layton made his way back into the bedroom Luke was sleeping in to gather his belongings, [Y/N] headed to her own bedroom and promptly put the room in order for him; after she was finished, she decided to dim the lights by turning them all off except for one, the small lamp on the nightstand by her side of the bed, which provided just enough light to the room for the eyes to see.

Once she deemed the room suitable for nighttime, she walked to the bed and sat down on top of the sheets, before she closed her eyes and peacefully listened to the sound of raindrops right outside the window. Soon after, the bedroom door opened and entered the Professor, his luggage in hand: and when she opened her eyes and turned her head to him, seeing him step inside then close the door behind him, all in a very quiet fashion, she simply could not help but feel her face grow contaminated with blush.

It's still so odd for me to realize Hershel and I are... going to be sharing a bedroom for the night, sleeping in the same bed... so close to one another...

She watched him approach the bed, sending a warm yet somewhat flustered smile her way, and a sudden thought crossed her mind; in a swift and sudden movement, she stood up from the mattress and turned her body to him, an embarrassed look on her face.

"Oh, hum, I forgot to consult you beforehand on which side of the bed you would rather prefer sleeping on, I'm sorry— I claimed this side, but it's completely fine by me if you wish for us to swap places..."

With a low, charming chuckle, he sat down on the bed, opposite her.

"It's all right, [Y/N], there's no need to apologise." He said in a comforting tone of voice. "You can stay on this side, it's fine by me either way."

Still filled with awkwardness, the young woman slowly nodded in silence before she sat back down, her gaze directed at the ground. She raised her head up just slightly, enough to look through the nearest window, to look at the rain falling, and a sigh escaped her lips.

"I know Luke is going to be ok, I know he will be better by tomorrow, but I simply cannot help but worry for him, I have trouble getting him out of my mind... And with this storm—"

But she suddenly cut herself short: halfway through her sentence, she turned around to look at Layton, only to be met with a sight so rare it took her breath away. The sight of him removing his top hat, gently lifting it from the top of his head before setting it down on his bedside table. Although she had known him for quite some time now, it was still very uncommon for [Y/N] to ever see Layton take off his hat, and as such, whenever it did happen, she made sure she cherished the moment wholly, admiring this side of him he never let show to anyone. And this moment was no different; if anything, it meant even more to her than any previous times she had seen him without his hat. Because for the first time since she had met him, she was experiencing a truly intimate moment with him, one that was different from everything else they had shared together before.

Before she realized it, she became entirely absorbed by her thoughts and her eyes kept admiring his face, barely even blinking; a look it seemed he was oblivious to.

"I know Luke's condition weighs heavy on your mind, [Y/N]." He said in a tone that was both serious and tender. "It weighs heavy on mine, as well. But we have had a long and wearing day, and what you need is some rest. Try clearing your mind of today's worries, of the storm and of Luke, and I'm sure you will manage to find sleep tonight."

His words pulled her out of her thoughts and back into reality, yet they left her just as shy: to hear him care so much about her, about her well-being, it warmed her entire soul.

She stared at him, still in admiration, but this time with deep affection.

"... Thank you, Professor." She said with a smile. "I'll try following your advice as best as I can."

To that, Layton smiled back at her without a word, after which he began to properly get in bed. She followed his lead, placing herself underneath the heavy sheets, then extended one of her arms to her nightstand.

"May I turn off the light?"

"Please, do."

As her hand reached the lamp, she felt her cheeks turn a deep shade of pink while an uncontrollable smile appeared on her lips.

"Then, goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, [Y/N]."

Her fingers flicked off the switch and the room was plunged into darkness. Darkness, and silence. A silence filled with a sense of awkwardness, of shyness, of restraint. And a sense of love, too.

[Y/N] and Layton were both lying down on their sides, facing their respective ways, their backs turned to each other, and neither of them added another word. The room was so quiet, [Y/N] could hear him breathing calmly behind her, and she could only assume he had already fallen asleep; she, on the other hand, was incapable of accomplishing such a task at that moment.

With her sharp breath and wide-open eyes, she was too emotionally compromised to be able to find sleep and instead listened to the rain as she fell prey to her thoughts.

Hershel seems to have already managed to fall asleep... but how can he? For the two of us to sleep in the same bed... I know there really should be no need for me to make a fuss out of this situation, but... I simply can't help it. To be this close to him, to know he's right behind me, sleeping safe and sound... by my side...

She closed her eyes tight as she wrapped herself in her own arms, growing more and more flushed by the second.

I can't permit myself to obsess over such thoughts... especially if I want to be able to sleep tonight. I need to take a deep breath and relax. I need to stretch my legs, to drink some cool water, this is what I need.

With this in mind, she slowly pushed the bedsheets aside and carefully slipped out of bed, making sure she was quiet enough so as to not wake him up; with faint footsteps, she walked around the bed and to the door, then she exited the room without a sound, closing the door behind her. And the bedroom fell silent. Or so it seemed.

The very second the door closed, Layton, who was left alone inside immediately exhaled a deep, heavy breath through his mouth while his body began to move on the bed.

Good heavens, what have I gotten myself into? He asked himself as he brought his hand to his forehead, concealing the blush on his face.

His eyes then fell on the door, before they drifted to the other side of the bed, [Y/N]'s side.

I believed her to be asleep... but it appears I was mistaken. Could she, too, find it hard to be at peace in such a situation, under such circumstances?

More pensive than ever, he lay on his back and brought one hand up to his face as he stared straight at the ceiling.

Such a reaction is quite understandable, after all: as a gentleman, it is my duty to ensure [Y/N]'s well-being and to never behave inappropriately toward her. But to spend the night in the same bed as her, it breaks this very duty of mine and goes against all my principles, all my morals... Then again, come to think of it, she is the one to have made me such an offer, so I can only assume she sees no issue with sharing her bed with me, as she has stated... Still, I cannot shake the feeling that my presence beside hers in this bed is rather wrong. [Y/N] may be an adult, but she remains a young woman, younger than me by about ten years... What would she think of me, in this regard? Would she see my attitude as unbecoming, as provocative, or even as misplaced? But how could she perceive my love for her in such ways? After all, the human heart simply cannot be helped, and I should feel no shame for the place she holds in mine... Oh, but it represents such an arduous task to make my feelings known to her. I hardly dare touch her, what if she took offense? Nevertheless, the facts are that this situation we are finding ourselves in constitutes the most ideal opportunity for me to approach her, on a physical level... But—

The bedroom door suddenly opened, interrupting Layton in his train of thought and putting an abrupt end to his inner conflict. [Y/N] entered the room before she closed the door behind her, just as quietly as she had opened it the first time around, still believing him to be asleep; she was back from the kitchen, where she had gone to drink a refreshing glass of cool water, which had helped her feel a little better. Additionally, she had also used this time to go check on Luke, once more, to make sure he was still doing all right: upon seeing the young boy lying down on the bed, sleeping peacefully, her mind had instantly been put at ease, further comforting her state of mind.

She made her way around the bed, back to her side, her bare feet slowly pacing the cold wooden flooring. Once she had reached her side of the bed, she gently sat down before she slid underneath the sheets; but although her voice remained completely mute, her body betrayed her.

There, against the mattress, her limbs began to shiver, her skin growing covered with goosebumps. Although she was now wrapped in the warm bedsheets, she was still only wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts, and having gotten out of bed had lowered her body temperature greatly: she may not have been feeling this cold only a few minutes prior, but leaving the bedroom to wander around the house had led her to feel quite chilled.

From his side of the bed, Layton could feel her body quiver, he could almost hear her shaky breath; in a slow and graceful movement, he quietly turned around, now lying on his left side, facing [Y/N]'s back turned to him. And he stared at her, at her figure amidst the dark, at her trembling arms, and at her head resting on the pillows. He admired the lines of her body, although partly concealed by the bedsheets, seemingly not thick enough to warm her up fully. His eyes traced her back, and as they went up and reached her exposed shoulders, for one of the very first times in his life, his mind went blank, his thoughts stopped altogether: not even an ounce of hesitation flowed through his veins as he extended both of his arms toward her and reached for her shoulders.

He rested the palms of his hands on her, in a sudden yet gentle way, gentle enough for her not to be startled, but enough to make her turn around in surprise. Her body turned, just at the moment he moved closer to her. And when it did, she found herself in his arms, her face against the crook of his neck, his hands on her body.

"H-Hershel...?"

Above her, his voice let out a warm and loving chuckle, yet so quiet it was almost inaudible.

"How I have longed to hear you address me by my name, dear..." He said softly, his tone calm and relaxed.

Only then did she realize she had called the Professor by his first name, too overcome by her emotions to think rationally; she felt flushed, more than she ever had before, her face overheating at the contact of his skin against hers, of her hands on his chest, of his fingers holding her arms, of his head resting above hers. Everything felt as though it was wrapping around her, enveloping her in a blanket of comfort, peacefulness, and love.

But it all felt so surreal, so unbelievable, and she was too bashful to articulate even a single word, no matter how much she wished she could speak.

"... I could not help but notice you were trembling while lying underneath the bedsheets." Layton told her, a hint of concern in his voice. "... Are you cold?"

"Not... anymore..." She shyly answered in a whisper.

His hands on her arms held her just a little tighter as a faint sigh of relief escaped his lips, then silence fell between them. Not a long silence, one that could not have lasted more than ten seconds, but one that felt everlasting, until he sighed once more, this time in a way that felt more embarrassed than confident.

"... I feel I need to apologise for my behaviour, [Y/N]." He started, his words filled with awkwardness. "It was improper of me to initiate such physical contact with you, especially without your consent..."

"And yet, you're still holding me." She told him in a gentle tone, her fingers still pressed to his chest.

Caught off guard by her unexpected statement, Layton opened his eyes wider, a light gasp slipping through his open lips; it only took him a second to regain his composure, but no matter how calm he wished his face to appear to be, the intensifying blush on his cheeks betrayed his true state of mind.

"I... still am, yes." He admitted in a shameful voice.

But despite the sense of guilt he seemed to be carrying, his aura still radiated confidence; confidence, and love.

"Because although my mind tells me what I am doing is wrong, my heart forbids me to let go of you, now that you are in my arms."

As he said those words, her hands on his chest could feel his heartbeat quicken, just as much as her own.

"Hershel... I don't want you to let go of me, either." She slowly confessed as she closed her eyes.

"I know, my dear." He responded with a gentle smile, his cheeks still red. "But..."

Leaving the beginning of his sentence to trail off, his hands went back up to her shoulders, which he gently grabbed to pull her body away from his just slightly, before he looked down at her: and with her face now no longer squeezed against his collarbone, she was free to look up, back at him, and, at last, she could finally see his face again, admiring the tenderness of his features and the glimpse in his eyes as he stared at her. But just as she was about to give him a faint, shy smile, she felt his hands on her shoulders pulling her up, up to his eye level, and her lips took a completely different shape.

There she lay, on her right side, her head comfortably resting on a pillow, face-to-face with Layton, and she felt her heart skip more than only one beat; a single glimpse of his eyes meeting hers was enough to make her look away, her cheeks turning such a bright red she wished she could hide in the darkness.

A reaction that seemed to amuse him, judging by the charming smile on his face and the low-pitched, affectionate chuckle he let out.

"Now, [Y/N], there's no need for you to feel so shy around me." He told her in a reassuring voice while he took her in his arms once more.

As his arms wrapped around her, she remained quiet, her gaze still avoiding his, her cheeks still burning hot.

"Please, dear, look at me." He requested with tenderness.

Unable to let his demand go unfulfilled, [Y/N] gathered all her strength and looked straight in front of her, at his face, shining with a warm smile.

"There you go." He said in an encouraging tone.

The sweetness in his words made her want to look away again, but she remained assertive and continued staring into his eyes.

"I agree this situation is... quite unconventional... especially for myself." Layton began, slightly embarrassed, his eyes shifting positions. "I am not accustomed to interactions of this kind... This is all relatively new to me. So I fully understand the cause and reason behind your timidity, as I share it myself."

And yet, no such emotion was visible on his face: despite the redness of his skin that lingered, his bashful expression faded away to be replaced with one of softness, of affection.

"Nevertheless, I know you to be strong, and I am asking you to remain strong, just for the time being."

She gazed at him and slightly nodded her head to him, silently but tenderly: and as he sighed deeply, he gazed back at her, back into her eyes.

"Do you remember what I had told you, the day we parted ways for the first time, at the end of our very first adventure together? I told you I could see potential in you, potential that would bloom over time, over trials and tribulations. And I was not solely referring to your potential in mystery-solving, but also your potential as an individual... And it seems my intuition was right."

The Professor stared at her, at all of her being, with unconditional love, one that no one had ever seen in his eyes before, one that felt pure and true.

"[Y/N], you are a wonderful young woman, who possesses great intelligence and a remarkable set of skills. You are always so full of life, and you feel such compassion and empathy, not only toward Luke and myself but toward strangers, as well. You are distinguished, and please do not regard my words as indecent when I say I find your physique beautiful, in every way. You have a natural charm to yourself that makes people drawn to you, the sound of your voice is more soothing to the ears than music, the way you smile and laugh is more vibrant than a ray of sunshine, you care deeply for Luke, you are dedicated to every task you take on, you have a unique sense of humour, you are an amazing opponent at chess, you make exquisite tea, and... You are the most extraordinary woman I have had the chance to meet... in a very long time. You have made every aspect of my life better since the very first day I met you, and I can only hope I have also been able to make yours better in return. For long, I have wondered how I could possibly repay you for all that you have done for me, a way to thank you accordingly. And I believe tonight has opened my eyes, and, above all else, has opened my heart, and now I know my answer: the only way for me to truthfully make you understand how much you mean to me is by confessing my feelings for you. Pardon me for being this direct with you, [Y/N], but I am in love with you. And I have been in love with you for long, now, longer than you may be imagining. You complete me, you make me feel whole, I feel understood when I am by your side, and there is nothing I dread more than being separated from you. Behind every great man, there is a woman: and it may be too presumptuous of me to make such claims, but I think of you as mine... and I would not want it to be any other woman than you."

[Y/N] shed one tear, then another, then another.

"Hershel..." She murmured in a trembling voice.

His love declaration had left her at a loss for words, her heart overflowing with emotions and her mind submerged by the series of compliments he had showered her with. He stared straight at her, straight at her weeping face, and he hesitated for some time, debating whether or not to let his feelings guide him, then he finally gave in to his heart's orders: although hesitantly, he approached a hand to her face and held it delicately, his fingers on her neck while his palm rested on her jawline. And his thumb slowly brushed her cheek, wiping it of her tears, all with a glimmer of love in his eyes.

Upon feeling the warmth of his touch, she closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, firm yet gentle; when she opened her eyes again and they reached his face, it was clear to her that judging by the look he was displaying, he had not meant for his confession to be this lengthy, and it would have seemed a part of him felt remorse, for fear of having said too much, of having gone too far. And [Y/N] saw it, so she decided to chase away any doubt he may still have had, once and for all.

Just as delicately as he had put his hand on her face, she brought one of her hands up and rested it over his, interlocking her fingers with his. The gesture surprised Layton, whose face turned from pink to red.

"I love you too, Hershel." She bluntly declared with an affectionate smile. "I... apologize for confessing in such a straightforward manner... my speech is surely going to be shorter than yours. But I know you need to hear these words, I can see it on your face: even now, you still wonder if I reciprocate your feelings, if your love is matched by mine, and I want you to know that yes, it is. You need to know, and I want you to know, I want you to know just how important you are to me. Perhaps you hadn't noticed, back then, but I fell for you the very day I met you for the first time. I fell for your intelligence, for your manners, for your words, for the way you think, for your personality, for each and every single one of your qualities, and for each and every single one of your imperfections, as few as they are. I'm sure it was evident to you that the sole reason I had to move to London was you... Now that I had met you, I simply could not see myself away from you, as shameful and selfish as it may have been of me. But I don't regret having done it, because it has granted me the chance to spend time with you, to accompany you and Luke on your adventures, to see myself grow alongside you, to help you whenever you needed me... and these past few years I have spent by your side have been the most wonderful years of my life. I would often wonder whether you felt the same way I did, whether I had embellished your life the same way you have embellished mine. And, now, I know it to be true, and I have never felt happier before. And I want you to feel such joy, too, Hershel, so I want you to know how much I love you."

By the time she reached the end of her confession, her wish had come true: Layton's face bore an expression that combined relief and shyness, but, above all else, displayed sheer happiness. Happiness that was rapidly replaced by bashfulness, however, as the two of them were well aware of what awaited them now: with their faces so close to one another, only a few inches away, Layton was unsure, wavering. But when he stared deeply into [Y/N]'s eyes, he could discern a spark, a spark of love that was calling to him, and uncertainty left him as quickly as it had invaded him.

With his hand still resting on her skin, he leaned yet even closer to her face and squinted his eyes, before closing them completely the second he made his lips meet hers. One of her hands found its way to his cheek, while the other grabbed hold of the collar of his sweater, gripping it tighter the longer the kiss lasted; a tender, affectionate kiss, that carried such yearning, such love. A kiss that took their body temperature higher and higher, to the point of feeling like they were overheating. A kiss that felt as soft as the bed they were in, as warm as the sheets that were covering them. And yet, a kiss that only lasted but a few seconds: and when it ended, reality reappeared around them as they opened their eyes back, back in the arms of each other.

The cold chills [Y/N] had been feeling some time ago had now vanished, having been replaced by a burning love, burning within her soul, and which she knew was burning within his, as well: she could see it displayed on his face. But what was most visible on his face was an expression of widespread timidity, one she could not help but find amusing.

"I... hope it satisfied you." He said in a soft yet embarrassed tone, avoiding making eye contact with her. "A true gentleman should always know how to properly please a lady, but I must admit I... had not kissed someone in a long time... my apologies, dear."

And more amusing even were his words, which made her giggle cutely.

"There's no need to apologize, Hershel." She told him kindly to reassure him. "Your kiss was... more than just satisfying, I assure you."

The blush on his face only intensified upon him hearing her words, but they also helped shape his lips into a smile, a warm smile she sent back to him. Suddenly, a thunderclap roared outside the window, startling [Y/N] who instinctively snuggled against Layton, burying her face in the crook of his neck; immediately, he took her into his embrace and held her tight, wrapping her securely.

"Everything is ok, I'm here." He comforted her in a calm though slightly concerned voice.

The two of them had been so engrossed in one another, in the love they had to share that they had completely forgotten about the storm, that was still raging outside, the wind still blowing and the drops still falling. Lying against him, she felt ashamed of having reacted in such a childish way, yet she found herself unable to let go of him.

"I'm sorry..." She apologized in a whisper.

"No, no, it's all right." He reassured her with a smile. "Storms as heavy as this one can be frightening, and your reaction is absolutely legitimate."

With a delicate hand, he reached down to her face and made her look up at him.

"But you need not to fret, my dear. I am right here, with you. And as long as I am here, you have nothing to fear. Now, more than ever before, it is my duty to protect you. You can sleep, safely and soundly, without having to worry about the storm or any other matter of the sort."

[Y/N] stared at his face, into his eyes, and the love she read in them would have been enough to make her shed one more tear.

"Thank you, Hershel." She murmured softly, her lips shaped into a shy smile.

"Of course, dear." He replied as he gently stroke the top of her head.

Their bodies as one, they adjusted themselves on the bed just a little to lie comfortably against one another. And just as Layton had promised her, [Y/N] closed her eyes and drifted off into sleep, safe and sound, in his arms.

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