#oh also the last shot is the last shot of isaac and theo respectively. if that wasnt clear.

[bericas]

isaac & scott / mason & theo | sometimes all i think about is you

[impracticaldemon]

The Shopping Expedition (or, A Gift for Theo) by impracticaldemon

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire Characters:  Theodorus (Theo) van Gogh, MC; also Arthur, Comte Canon Setting; Canon Characters Words: ~ 4500  [Also available on AO3 and FFnet]

A/Note:  Written for Theo’s (Cybird) birthday on May 1st. Happy Birthday Theo!  This wasn’t intended to be so long, but I had too much fun writing the Theo x MC interactions. The story assumes that MC has been there for a while already, but there isn’t yet an established romantic relationship.

~Imp

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The Shopping Expedition

Cuff links? Nice, but boring. Gold tie pin? He did wear a cravat when necessary, but I wanted something distinctive. Watch chain? …I couldn’t remember what he used to tell time, although he probably did carry a pocket watch; after all, he was always in a hurry to get somewhere.  Heh—the thought put me in mind of the White Rabbit from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, and the image of Theodorus van Gogh wearing bunny ears and a fluffy white tail made me snicker.

It was the day before Theo’s birthday, and I was getting a little—make that a lot—stressed out over what to get him.  I mean, he had everything he needed, between what Monsieur le Comte provided and his own income.  But I’d recently realized that he had very little in the way of personal keepsakes—things he treasured for more than being useful or necessary.  I wanted to find him something special, maybe even something that would make him smile.

Theo had been rude to me from the moment we’d been introduced.  So why was I trying so hard to find him a memorable birthday present? I suppose it was the little things he did in between mocking my (alleged) naiveté and impugning my intelligence. He noticed how hard I worked, for instance, and respected me for it—even checked up on me a few times when he realized I was putting in late night prep work for the next day.  He paid attention to what I was doing, and acknowledged legitimate improvements.  Mind you, his compliments were often buried among his criticisms, but they were sincere and on-point.  And maybe it was my imagination, but there had been a lot fewer insults lately.

I left the jeweller’s—the fourth such shop I’d been in—and frowned down at the paving stones.  The sun was already low in the sky, and I’d promised not to stay out past dusk.  Paris wasn’t a safe place after dark, and a lot of areas weren’t safe at any time. Or so I’d been told, over and over again, by various residents of Chez Comte, including Master Theodorus.

“Planning to take root and grow leaves?”  Snarky comment, snarky tone, big presence.

“Good afternoon to you too, Theo, and how are you today?”

[READ MORE BELOW CUT]

I looked up—quite a ways—and saw the expected sky blue eyes and irritating smirk.  His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, as usual, which made it feel like he was looming over me.  Other shoppers detoured around him without more than a quick glance of annoyance, with the exception of one belligerent young man who called him a rude name that he automatically returned in kind.  They glowered briefly at each other, but there was nothing in it—just an ordinary exchange of ‘civilities’ in Paris of the nineteenth century.  Or any century, come to think of it.

“Seriously, though, you going in or out?”  Theo indicated the shop behind me with his chin.

“I’m fine, thanks.  It’s a nice day, and I don’t often get out to see the city.  Haven’t needed the umbrella so far.”

Eyeroll.  Sigh.  “Give it up already, would you?  Are you here with Sebas?  Little pups like you need a handler—and maybe a leash.  You might get into trouble, otherwise.”

Right.  Why was I trying to find him a birthday present again? Oh yeah, because there was a heart of at least tarnished silver in there somewhere, and… well, I preferred to not think too hard about the rest.  I gave him my best ‘the customer is always right especially when they’re not’ smile. As a travel planner and occasional tour guide for status-conscious co-patriots, I’d had a lot of practice.

“I’m out on my own today, I’m afraid.  Napoleon and Isaac gave me a lift into town, but otherwise I’m completely unsupervised. How about you?  No big brother around to remind you to play nicely with the other children?”

Sadly, I wasn’t able to get a rise out of Theo, although his smirk faded into something closer to genuine amusement.

“What happened to the polite little girl who first arrived at the mansion?  I seem to remember somebody who stuck to ‘please’, ‘thank you’, and ‘I’m sorry’ most of the time.”

“Well, I didn’t get the best first impression of the tenants, and where I’m from, civility is often the best defense.”  I was going to add more—about lecherous writers and their syrup-swilling friends—but time was getting short, and not only did I still not have a present, but I was starting to wonder what was going on with Theo.  It was unlike him not to be twitching with impatience by this point in the conversation.  “Hey, Theo?”

“Hm?”

“Not that I don’t appreciate your company, but what’s up?”

“What do you mean?  I happened to be in town and saw you blocking traffic—thought I’d better wake you up before somebody knocked you down and stole your lunch money.”

I ignored the usual challenge to my maturity and life skills. “But now we’re both blocking traffic, and you’re always in a hurry when you’re on business.”  The image of the White Rabbit with his giant pocket watch came to mind again, and I added:  “You know—‘I’m late! I’m late!’ and all that.”

Theo frowned, apparently not catching the reference.  It occurred to me that I might be quoting the movie, rather than the book—and would Master Theodorus have bothered to read something as whimsical as Alice in Wonderland?  

“I’m never late for business appointments, hondje–what’s with you?”  Before I could reply, he went on.  “Believe it or not, you have a really terrible sense of self-preservation.  I was just trying to look out for one of God’s dumb creatures, you know?”

“Sure.”  Amazingly, the insult rolled right off me.  Maybe I was finally getting used to him, or maybe it was the dawning awareness that he was genuinely concerned and couldn’t bring himself to admit it.  “So, are you staying in town for dinner, or heading back?”

“Haven’t decided.” Theo shrugged.  “The real question is, how are you getting home?”

“A carriage?  I mean, that’s normal, isn’t it?”

“Napoleon or Isaac meeting you?”

“No, why?”  Great.  Now I had no birthday present and I was starting to feel nervous.  “I can always fend off the cabbie with my umbrella if there’s a problem, okay?  Anyway, I know this is usually your line, but I have to get going.  I still have something to pick up, and—for safety reasons—I’m not supposed to stay out after sunset.”

“…I guess I’ll go with you,” Theo grumbled.  At my look of surprise, he shoved his hands further into his pockets.  “You’re almost useful now, that’s all.  Be a waste for something to happen to you when Sebas finally has you halfway trained.”  More quietly, he added, “Still don’t know what they were thinking, letting you out on your own...”

I stared at him, torn between irritation and confusion.  After a moment, his eyes flicked away from mine.  I thought there was a hint of red in his fair cheeks, but the late afternoon sun made it hard to tell.

“Look, Theo, all joking aside, I’m not a child, and I think I can manage to take a carriage home on my own.”

“Who says I’m joking? What part of ‘Paris isn’t safe’ isn’t getting through your abnormally thick skull?  Look, you’re wearing nice clothes, and you’re obviously carrying money. Sure, you’re probably okay shopping on your own during the day, but taking a carriage out into the middle of nowhere just as it’s getting dark?  I couldn’t believe it when Arthur mentioned—” He broke off abruptly.

“What does our literary Lothario have to do with anything?” I demanded.

“Just—it doesn’t matter, okay?”  Theo was scowling, now; it was a familiar, if not especially charming expression.  “The point is, travelling home alone is asking for trouble, and you’re already trouble-prone.”

“Trouble-prone?”  

“Well, you managed to get stuck in le Comte’s door—that’s a first.  And just—ugh.  If you have something left to buy, we should get moving.  Besides, you’re still blocking traffic.”

Before I could find the words to properly express my aggravation, there was a polite cough at my elbow.  A neatly-dressed, middle-aged man had opened the door behind me, and was looking inquiringly between Theo and I.

“Madame, Monsieur… I do not wish to intrude upon a lovers’ quarrel, but perhaps you would be so kind as to find a more appropriate location?”  He bowed politely.  “You see, Monsieur is rather, ah, formidable, and it is not good for business.  I’m sure that you understand.”

Theo shot me an exasperated look, put a hand under my elbow, and dragged me away.  Since I couldn’t do anything about it without causing a scene, I went with him, calling an apology over my shoulder to the shopkeeper.

After we’d gone a short distance, I tried to yank my arm free.  I wasn’t successful, but at least it got my cranky companion to slow down. Once we’d reached a quieter spot, Theo finally let go.  We were both a little red, and this time it definitely wasn’t just the light.

“You—”

“What the—”

Theo shoved his hands back into his pockets.  I would have crossed my arms in response, but I had a bag in one hand and an umbrella in the other.

“Theo—”

“Hondje—”

I decided to let him go first.  It had occurred to me—as annoying as it was—that he might have a point about the wisdom of taking a hired carriage back to the mansion on my own.  There was no way to call ahead, and the stretch of road between the outskirts of the city and le Comte’s residence was uninhabited and surrounded by forest.  While I was confident that the residents of the mansion would hunt down anyone who harmed me, it made no sense to put myself in harm’s way unnecessarily.  

“Why didn’t Napoleon make arrangements for you to get home?” Theo asked at last, breaking the uncomfortable silence.  “He usually fusses over things like that.”

“I don’t know.”  I thought about the trip into town, and added, “I got the impression that he thought it was already taken care of.  He reminded me to stick to the one shopping district, but that was it.”

Theo suddenly went still, as though something had occurred to him.  Then he scowled again, but it didn’t seem to be at me, for a change.

“Who gave you the money to take a carriage back to the mansion?”

“Le Comte—well, technically I suppose it was Arthur…”  I paused, thinking it over.  “Arthur came up to me shortly before I left to tell me that le Comte had asked him to pass along the money for the trip back.  I was a bit surprised, but it didn’t occur to me to be worried about it.”

Theo muttered something in Dutch that I didn’t quite catch.  It sounded rude, but when I raised my eyebrows at him he just hunched a shoulder and growled, “Arthur, not you.”

“You think Arthur set me up?”  That made no sense.  “But why? I mean, he’s the one who told me—”

I bit off the rest of the sentence, since I’d been about to tell Theo that I’d been looking for a birthday present for him.  Arthur was the one who had recommended the particular shopping district and given me directions.  I’d reluctantly consulted him about possible gifts for Theo, since they appeared to be friends.  I would have preferred to ask our resident angel—Theo’s brother Vincent—but he’d been working non-stop on a painting for the past several days.

“Let me guess.”  Theo had stopped scowling, although he didn’t look happy, either.  “Somebody—probably Arthur, since Vincent’s been painting—told you about my birthday, right?  And you got it in your head that you should get me something, because you would.  Then Arthur suggested where to shop—he knows I like a lot of the artisans in this district.  Sound about right?”

“…Maybe.  But you still haven’t explained what you are doing here.”

“I told you—I had to be in town anyway, and somebody had to look out for the ignorant puppy.”

“I really wish you’d stop it with the pet references.  How did you know I’d gone into town and was coming back on my own?”

“Arthur.”  Theo grimaced. “We were chatting in the front hall, and he mentioned that he was concerned, because he overheard that the coachman wasn’t returning to town for you.  When I said you were probably coming back with Napoleon or Isaac, he made a big show of remembering that Napoleon and Isaac were staying in town late tonight. Bastard.”

I continued to stare at Theo, as the bits and pieces started to click.  It was beginning to sound as though Theo had rushed into town entirely for my sake—so that I wouldn’t have to travel home alone.  Even stranger, Arthur had been able to wind him up with a pretty suspicious story—maybe because my safety was at stake? Normally, Theo was as sceptical as they came.  …Not that I was feeling warm and fuzzy just because Theo had panicked over me or anything.

“What are you grinning about, hondje?”  The glower was back, probably because Theo hated looking like he actually cared about anyone other than Vincent.

“Nothing.”  For some reason, I couldn’t get the smile off my face.

“Just remember that if you had half a brain, and weren’t so reckless, you’d cause a lot less trouble.”

“Right—because it’s my fault that Arthur set me up just so he could mess with you.”

Theo didn’t respond; he seemed to be deep in thought.  Then he hastily pulled out a pocket watch and muttered, “Damn, I really am late, now.”

I stifled a giggle, as the image of Theo the White Rabbit came to mind once more.  “Hey, Theo?”

“What?”

“I’m sorry if you ended up missing something because you were looking out for me.”

He looked startled, then replaced the watch in his pocket and turned away, running a hand through his bright copper-brown hair.  “It wasn’t a big deal.  Otherwise you’d be on your own.”

“I still appreciate it—thank you.”

“Well… just remember that you owe me one.”  He still wouldn’t meet my eyes.  “You still had somewhere you needed to go?”

“Yeah.  Do you mind if I go into that bookstore?”  I pointed across the street.  I was pretty sure I’d been there once before with Sebastian, who was picking up an order for Leonardo.

“Whatever you want is probably in the library at the mansion, you realize.”  Despite his words, Theo immediately set out towards the store.  I hurried after him, unable to repress the thought that it was a lot more comfortable being in nineteenth century Paris with somebody—especially if he happened to be moderately intelligent and good-looking.  Having a glare that parted crowds like Moses parting the Red Sea was a bonus.

I was fortunate enough to find what I wanted, and quick enough that even Theo couldn’t find fault with me for wasting his time.  When I rejoined him outside the store, he was idly flipping through an art book, criticizing the publisher’s choice of paintings.  I could tell that his heart wasn’t really in it, though.

“So, I guess we should get home then?” I asked.

“Yeah, let’s go.  I’d suggest eating out, but Sebas is probably waiting for you, right?”

To my surprise, he held out an imperative hand for my bag, which now contained a neatly-wrapped two-volume set along with the bits and pieces I’d picked up earlier.  For some reason, I didn’t try to refuse, even though the bag wasn’t especially heavy.

“Thanks…”

“Sure.”  He offered his elbow, and rolled his eyes when I stared at it blankly.  “Take my arm, would you?  Last thing I need is for you to trip and twist an ankle now that the light’s going. And stop looking so surprised—makes you look even more out of it than usual.”

“Uh-huh.  Have you ever considered not adding the insults? I hear it can do wonders for people’s opinion of you.”

He looked down at me, smirking.  “Why would I care what people think?”

“You care what Vincent thinks.”

“He’s my older brother, and an artistic genius.  He’s allowed to have opinions.”

“Right…”

We were walking steadily toward the nearest area that was likely to have coaches for hire that would travel beyond the city limits.  I hated to admit it, even to myself, but it was nice to have an arm to lean on, especially since my feet had been sore for a quite while thanks to the uneven cobbles and hard paving stones.  I’d done more walking than I’d anticipated, and late Victorian fashions in ladies’ footwear were elegant, but not especially comfortable.

“Oi, hondje! Don’t fall asleep until we’re actually in the coach, okay?  Or are you hoping I’ll carry you?”

I stifled a yawn, and realized that Theo had a point—about falling asleep on my feet, not about wanting to be carried.  Because I didn’t.  Why would I?

“Oh jeez…  Come on, we’re here now—up you go.”

I let him help me into the carriage, and settled myself decorously on the forward-facing seat. Theo joined me a moment later, having spoken to the driver.  He sat down beside me, and stretched his long legs out in front of him as much as space allowed.  

“Go ahead and nap if you want,” he told me, pulling out a notebook and pencil.  “Maybe I can get some work done if you’re not babbling at me.”

“I don’t babble.”  At least, that’s what I tried to say.  A yawn got in the way, and Theo snorted.  I narrowly resisted the urge to stick out my tongue at him.  Too bad I really was feeling sleepy, though.

We reached the mansion very shortly after that, from my perspective.  I didn’t remember much from the trip itself, which was just as well—or so I told myself.  For one thing, when I woke up, I was leaning on Theo’s chest, and his arm was around me. Moreover, he’d obviously taken off my hat for me, which was just as well, since otherwise I’d have been skewered by the ten-centimeter-long hatpins.  I felt stupidly pleased about that, as well as comfortable tucked up against him, which was embarrassing.  Best not to remember how it had come about.

Theo’s face was scrupulously neutral when I sat up just as we were reaching the mansion.  He just… totally ignored whatever had happened. Not that anything had happened, but still.  I jammed my hat back onto my head, and tried not to yelp when I poked myself with a hatpin. Theo snickered.

“It’s on backward.  Might as well leave it off—you’ll look a little less untidy that way.  Though I guess at least it covers up your hair…”

I wanted to try for icy disdain, but instead I found myself missing his warmth beside me.  Apparently, he noticed something in my expression. His finger lightly brushed my cheek, which suddenly felt very warm indeed.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that, hondje,” he muttered, only partly to me.

“Wh-why not?”  This time, I tried for aloof.  What came out was anything but.

“Well… you look like you wouldn’t mind being kissed, and it is almost my birthday.”

“You’ve been spending way too much time with Arthur!”  Why was I leaning toward him, instead of grabbing my things and hurrying out of the carriage?

“That must be it.”

The touch of his lips on mine was electric.  Okay, what was going on?  I mean—really?

There was a respectful knock on the carriage door, and Theo’s fingers dropped from my cheek.  He grinned at me, but I couldn’t read the emotion behind it.

“Look on the bright side. The driver was bound to think we’d been up to something, since your hair’s such a mess.  At least this way you’ve gotten some benefit out of the embarrassment.”

“What?!  Theo!”

Of course he opened the door at that moment, and it was plain that the driver thought exactly what Theo had predicted he would think.  Ugh!  It was mortifying, but at least the man was a stranger, and hopefully I’d never see him again.

The same couldn’t be said for Arthur, Sebastian, and le Comte, who met us as we came into the house. I’d tried to tidy my hair and replace my hat while Theo paid off the driver, but the expressions on the three men’s faces when they took in my appearance suggested I hadn’t done a very good job.  I came to the conclusion that I’d have to kill Arthur, just to avoid ever seeing the smug, self-satisfied look ever again.  At least le Comte was back to his normal, pleasant self after a bare instant; Sebastian raised his eyebrows at me suggestively—naturally, I ignored him.

Unlike me, Theo was completely self-possessed.  He handed me my bag with a casual, “Try not to drop it, after all that.”  Then he nodded to le Comte and Sebastian, and dropped a hand on Arthur’s shoulder.  I thought I saw Arthur wince, but if so, any pain wasn’t enough to offset his amusement. He winked at me as Theo marched him out of the front hall towards the games room.

“Are you alright, chérie?” Le Comte appeared to be genuinely concerned, so I reassured him that I was fine.

“You’re late getting back,” murmured Sebastian.  “You’ll have to tell me all about it while we work on dinner.”

“Or not,” I murmured right back at him.  I bowed to le Comte.  “Monsieur le Comte—here is the money that Arthur gave me, from you, to pay for the journey back from town.  As it turned out, I didn’t need it.”

“From me?  No… it’s not mine.  But why don’t you keep it, since it appears that Arthur’s been up to mischief again?  The least he can do is help to pay for your parcels.”

When I tried to protest, le Comte smiled gently at me.  I accepted my defeat graciously—after all, there was some merit to his argument.  After a few more pleasantries—which helped to soothe my ruffled feathers, I admit—I went upstairs to change and put away my things. Le Comte accompanied me to the second floor, and detained me briefly outside my door.

“Did you find what you were looking for?  I gather you were trying to find a gift for Theodorus.”

“Oh…”  I hesitated, then nodded.  “Yes, I did eventually choose something, thank you Comte.  It came to me when I was looking at watch guards—I thought maybe a sturdy but elegant gold chain would suit Theo, you see.”

“That makes sense. But I take it that you didn’t get the chain?”

“No…  I wanted something more unusual.”  I decided to confide in le Comte—he struck me as good at keeping secrets, and once I told somebody, I was less likely to chicken out. I reached into my bag, and pulled out the wrapped parcel.  “Open it, and tell me what you think—if you don’t mind.  I’m sure it’s completely the opposite of what Theo would ordinarily read, but that’s why I got it.”

“I’m intrigued, ma petite. But if you mean that you chose something other than a technical work, or an art book, then I congratulate you.  It’s perceptive of you to realize that he could use something to shake him out of his tendency toward ‘all work and no play’—other than drinking with Arthur, that is.”

“Well, to be honest, that was only part of it.”  I made sure that le Comte followed me into my room, since with my luck, Theo would come up at exactly the wrong moment if we stayed in the upper hallway.

“Now I’m even more curious.” Le Comte deftly untied the string that secured the parcel, and folded back the brown wrapping paper to reveal two illustrated books.  “’Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’… and ‘Through the Looking Glass’.”  He looked up at me, and I let out a sigh of relief when I saw the approval in his warm golden eyes.  “I wonder what our ever-practical Theo will make of these?  An excellent choice, chérie.  And no doubt you feel a certain kinship with Mademoiselle Alice? Although I think you chose a more dangerous world to fall into, as it were.”

I returned his smile and shrugged.  “Maybe. I’ve had a number of frightening experiences here, I’ll admit, but I’m not sure that Wonderland sounds all that pleasant.  At least nobody here has threatened to cut off my head for refusing to play croquet using live flamingos.”  When le Comte laughed softly, I added, “But you’re right that I do feel a bit like Alice at times.”

Le Comte flipped idly through the first book, admiring the illustrations.  Naturally, I’d made sure the artwork wouldn’t attract outright derision from the birthday boy.

“Tell me, chérie, what was your other reason for purchasing these books?  I thought it was because of Alice, and your situation here, but I gather that’s not it.”

“Oh—yes, you’re right.” I took the book from le Comte and flipped back several pages to one of the first illustrations, which showed a well-dressed rabbit with a large pocket watch and an air of panic about him.  Underneath, the caption read: ‘Oh dear, oh dear.  I shall be too late.’

Le Comte stared at the White Rabbit for several seconds without comment, and I began to feel anxious again.  Any resemblance to a certain hyper-busy art dealer was apparently all in my head…  Then the polished, ever-courteous, impeccably-dressed man beside me snickered audibly.

“Comte?”

He closed the book, leaving it between my hands, and bowed politely.  “I wish you all the best, ‘Alice’.  If you can get Theo to slow down and enjoy himself, even a little, you will have done him a true service.”

I nodded, but didn’t know what to say.  Who was I to tell Theo to slow down, if he was doing what he wanted to do?  We had a tenuous connection at best, although the afternoon’s events had suggested something more.  Was there more?  Did I want there to be?  What could I—or should I—read into that barely-there kiss?

When Sebastian arrived at my room twenty minutes later, sounding half-concerned and half-annoyed, I still hadn’t moved, and I still didn’t know the answers to any of my questions. The only thing I knew for sure was that I clearly had Theo on the brain.  I apologized to Sebastian, put ‘Alice’ into a drawer to wrap later, and finally got changed. It was time to concentrate on the job at hand, and not Theo’s unusually protective behaviour, or a stray kiss.

[END]

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A/Note:  Were you amused? Entertained? Please let me know what you thought!  Feedback is an author’s bread and butter when it comes to fanfiction. ♥ There may or may not be a sequel, depending on my time, other writing commitments, and reader interest.  For now, this story is published under my one-shot collection “Teatime Tales from the Mansion”

[an-otome-cally-correct]

At the End of a Repeat

Honestly I haven’t had the time to write anything new, and this is just a product of me and a couple of friends on discord playing with a prompt generator a few months ago. What I got was ‘confession under the influence,’ ‘magic is real,’ and ‘groundhog day soulmate au where the day repeats until you meet.’

"Well aren't you early?"

"You-" Isaac started, pointing an accusatory finger at the man standing behind the counter. "You know what's going on!"

The bartender's eyebrows shot up, his mismatched eyes glimmering with amusement despite the look of surprise he wore. "I don't believe I know what you're talking about, but please - take a seat." He gestured to a vacant stool by the counter. "If you wish to have an audience for your tale, this man named William is here to listen."

Isaac narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but nonetheless approached the counter, settling himself down and being handed a drink. He shot William a look, and the man raised his hands in surrender.

"I promise you it's not alcoholic. I know well enough you're weak with such spirits."

Under normal conditions, Isaac would have questioned how he would have known, given that they were complete strangers to each other, but these weren't normal conditions and they were hardly strangers. In reality, he and William had known each other for quite some time now, if only by virtue of this loop he had found himself stuck in - the same day repeating itself over and over again, with only William and himself noticing.

"Now, what might be troubling you, Isaac?"

"You know very well what's troubling me. This day keeps repeating, and I want it to stop," he blurted out. "You're the only one who can see what's going on, so - as much as it is a leap of faith - you must know what's going on."

William poured himself a drink. "Why, is that all? And here I was thinking that you had a much more compelling story to tell. This is hardly out of the norm."

Isaac blinked.

He didn't know how to respond to that.

This? Normal?

In what universe?

"It appears you're at a loss," the bartender pointed out, stating the obvious. "I suppose I really should explain."

"That's the whole reason I came here, after all."

"Very well," William hummed, and taking a sip from his drink before he launched into a description of a peculiar phenomenon, of soulmates meeting and repeating the day they first meet until they acknowledge the other. "...And it would seem to me that you had inadvertently met yours several days ago." William paused. "Or sometime today," he chuckled. "It gets confusing, you see."

Isaac resisted the urge to correct and explain to him the complications of this time loop since he hardly understood it himself. It was a preposterous idea, through and through, but a wise man once said that where science ended, faith began, and so he took his word for it. Ultimately, he heard what he wanted to hear. "So all I need to do is to find this so-called soulmate of mine, and I'll be free?"

William nodded.

"If that's the case, then it's likely this other person is in the same situation as I am? They're living out the same day on repeat?"

Again, William nodded, a smile now playing on his lips.

"Is it possible that this person has approached you already? Maybe they had also noticed that you were aware of what was going on and came looking for answers?"

William's smile widened as he nodded once more. "That is exactly correct." 

"Then you know who they are!" Isaac grunted. "Who is it?"

"That, I cannot tell you. I am forbidden to meddle in these affairs; otherwise, I'll be severely punished by the forces that be," he quietly replied, pointing a finger at the ceiling. "As it stands, I am simply part of the audience, and at most, a guide for the likes of you. I told your soulmate the same thing." William then sighed. "You are welcome to stay here and think. Your drink is on the house, so do not worry about paying."

"Thank you," was all Isaac could say, finally taking a sip of the fizzy, apple-flavored drink. 

Isaac made good on William's offer and took his time to systematically sort through the events of the day, from start to finish, trying to determine who his soulmate could be. The day was the last day of the semester, and students and professors alike visited him to wish him a good vacation. The sentiment had been unnecessary, yet appreciated, but even with the unexpected number of well-wishers, they were all people he knew beforehand. None of them were anyone he had met for the first time. 

The only chance he had met someone for the first time would have been at the party Arthur and the professors from the other departments had arranged, the one he had been dragged into, the one he had forgotten all about come morning because of the amount of alcohol he had imbibed.

As it was, Isaac had no choice but to go about his day as usual, and just hope he could find someone as weary of this cycle as he was.

Students bade him goodbye, and colleagues wished him a peaceful break, and then it was time for the party. As expected, Arthur had come to drag him out of the laboratory, and along with Theo and Vincent, they drove down to the bar William worked at. The bartender greeted him with a smile and a nod, and the rest of the night played out in the same way it had the nights before with no sign of his soulmate. 

With the day ending soon, Isaac resigned himself to another repeat and began throwing back drinks one after the other. However, while he was reaching for his fifth glass, it was promptly swiped away from him by the dean of the Institute of Arts and Letters. More often than not though, the faculty would just call him ‘Comte,’ given that he was one of the universities biggest benefactors.

"I think that's enough alcohol for you, Isaac. I already have Mozart from the Music Department drunk. I don't need you to require supervision too, so please take it easy."

Isaac blinked. "Who?"

Comte cocked an eyebrow. "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart from the Music Department. He’s not much of a drinker, but I suppose he's stressed out." The name didn't ring a bell. "Oh, my mistake. I don't believe you've met. He's from the other side of the campus after all." Comte then gestured to three men sitting at a table not too far from theirs, two out of three faces being familiar to him. “Arthur encouraged Napoleon to invite his friends from the Institute of Arts and Letters.”

One was Napoleon from Languages. The other was Jean from Philosophy. The third was likely this Mozart that Comte was talking about. 

Isaac then heard a click in the back of his mind. It was a dull click, dulled by the alcohol circulating through his body, but still, everything fell into place in a way his inebriated mind found reasonable and sound. Before he knew it, he was already on his feet, making his way to the other table, and where, under normal conditions, he would have stayed a respectable space away from the man - but these weren't normal conditions. 

Instead, Isaac leaned in close, propping a hand against the backrest behind Mozart to keep him from completely toppling over, so they could meet eye to eye. There were likely a million other ways for him to explain, but the words were already out his mouth before he could think them through-

"You're my soulmate."