Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I am currently working on this title. The status is running. However, I do not promise any regular uploads or the ending of the story at any fixed point in time.

Please mind that this is a FEMALE reader fanfiction with a straight relationship between a woman and a man. There will be descriptions of typically female physiques, especially in the smut parts, and use of she/her pronouns for the reader.

Thank you for understanding.

P.S: since it seems to be unclear to many, I always mark the chapters that contain SMUT so that people can read or avoid them as they please. If there isn't smut in the title, there won't be smut in the chapter.

⚠️Shortcuts you need to know⚠️
(Y/N) = your name
(E/C) = eye colour
(H/C) = hair colour
(S/C) = skin colour
(Y/A) = your age

P.P.S: this does not follow the canon universe and is loosely meant as a slice of life "what if everything worked out"

Chapter Text

Evenings at the opera house were boring at best and tough, full of cramped pleasantries and fake smiles. Sometimes hands were shaken only to turn round and wish death on the other.

You were tired of listening to your guild whinge about how the painters were threatening the ink and spreading further and further into Paris. And the painters had the same complaints about the writers.

In the end, it was only a matter of time before the Council on both sides decided to take up arms again. Until then, you didn't want to waste your sweet freedom with liars, neither on the enemy's side nor on your own.

A soft piano melody filled the hall as people gathered on the rails to listen to the music. As the daughter of the leader of the writers, you had taken your representative place alongside your father and brothers as always.

You sat high up on a balcony, looking down on the stage as if you were gods. There were only two other balconies on this level, the centre one for the ordinary people of Paris, not blessed a gift, and the one on the left for the leaders of the painters.

Members of the Dessendre family have been sitting there for as long as you could remember. First Aline's father, then she herself as head of the painters council.

Silently, you dared to glance over. This time there were only four members of the family, Aline, her husband Renoir and their eldest daughter Clea with their youngest daughter Alicia.

Aline and her husband were getting old, their faces told stories of war and uncertainty, coupled with the will to endure. They were very similar to your father.

Clea, the eldest daughter, was currently the favourite to succeed her mother. It was an open secret and you assumed it was only a matter of time before the change would be realised. With her, the conflict between painters and writers would change once again into a new direction. She was considered unenthusiastic to make friends but had a reputation for being fair and just.

Alicia, the baby of the Dessendre family, was still so young that she hadn't really noticed the conflict between the two fronts. She had been born in a time of peace, had grown up sheltered. For a long time, your guild hadn't even known she existed. She seemed so young, so innocent.

Your gaze wandered back to the stage.

Down there he was sitting at the piano, the odd one out: Verso Dessendre. He was the middle child, the only son and, as was whispered, not really a passionate painter. He preferred music and as he sat down there enchanting the crowd with his piano you could understand why.

His dark hair hung down to his shoulders in black waves. Even from a distance, you could still recognise the one white strand in it. He and his good looks were the talk of the town with the ladies. And it was no secret that he had already had one or two adventures. Allegedly also with writer women.

A smirk flitted across your lips. After all, men were only men.

Lucien stirred next to you.

"You stare at him like the other women here.", he growled. "Remember, he's a painter. And fucks around like a whore, apparently."

The dissatisfaction in your brother's voice was hard to miss. Luis let out a snort.

"Let her dream.", he muttered. "The awakening will be lesson enough."

You sighed with a roll of your eyes. Luis and Lucien were both unhappy with the painters. The twins had taken your mother's death even more personally than your father. And he harboured so much bitterness that it almost killed him.

"You're imagining things.", you whispered back.

As always, one of them sat to your left and the other to your right. They loomed over you like two watchdogs, tall and so fierce-looking that you didn't even recognise them. Once your brothers had been the life of the party, laughing and doing nothing but stupid things. Now they were just shadows of themselves.

It felt wrong, but even though they were still alive, you mourned their loss. As a child you had looked up to them, had admired their aspirations to change the future.

Now they were like any other generation bound to the conflict between writers and painters. A tale as old as time. And one you were tired of hearing.

"You're getting more careless by the day, (Y/N).", Lucien hissed. "Must you be reminded what they took from us?"

"The fights might not paint the streets red no more but the war continues.", Luis reminded you for the thousandths time. "One wrong move and you'll join maman."

A deep, quivering sigh made your chest pull together.

"Maybe that wouldn't be so bad.", yawning, you rose from your seat. "Pardon me. I need to use the restroom."

As per usual your father didn't even bother to say a word as you left. Only the grim gazes of your brothers accompanied you.

For a short moment you feared they would walk with you, to make sure you didn't run off. But Luis just inhaled deeply, exchanged a glance and a nod with Lucien and then turned back to listen to the piano.

Lucien's eyes wandered over your back as you opened the door into the hallway. Unlike Luis he was less forgiving, the harsher and more impulsive one of the two. The only weakness he had was Luis' smarts. In the end he valued his brothers' opinions. If Luis let you go, Lucien would too.

With bated breath you pulled the door shut behind you. The first few steps down the stairs were hasty, impatient. Every once in a while your body felt the need to run away from your family and their stupid grudges.

It had been decades and many generations since the beginning of all this and yet not a single change had occurred.

Sometimes you wondered if painters and writers wanted to slaughter each other one after another. As if this was just a stupid pastime.

"Enough.", you whispered to yourself as you forced your legs to take slower steps. "This is stupid..."

Everything was. And you were too.

Chapter Text

Cold water danced in drops between your fingers as you washed your hands. Sighing, you needed to hold onto the edge of the white porcelain sink.

Once more the world's weight pushed down on your shoulders. It was painful but most of all exhausting. Like running a marathon you hadn't signed up for. You didn't even like running.

As you looked up again you were met with (E/C) eyes. Similar to your mother's, perhaps so close that your father hadn't looked at you in a while. He couldn't bear the pain, you did not wish to force him through it again.

And yet. It filled your heart with spikes to know that your father did not want to look at his one and only daughter. As a child and the youngest of your family you had been his favourite. His little princess. Sometimes Lucien and Luis had bullied you because of that. In a brotherly manner, of course but still.

Another sigh rolled from your lips. Over the last few weeks, this has happened more and more, so often that it was now more tiring than listening to your brothers plotting their revenge.

Sometimes it felt like the only consistency in your life was hate.

When you stepped out into the corridor again, it was quiet. Most of those present had been drawn into the hall where the Dessendre son was playing his piano. And those who had sneaked out like you were busy with other things.

You didn't want to return yet, sit between your brothers and pretend nothing had changed in the presence of your father. Life consisted of change. And yet, every change you could remember had been a burden.

Why did things always have to go downhill?

There was a saying that once you had reached the bottom, you could only go up. However, by now you were wondering if it didn't go even deeper, underground.

Lost in your own thoughts, you wandered through the long corridors, lined with red carpet, while paintings by the painters and poems by the writers hung framed on the walls, side by side as if they were friends.

Friendship was something that seemed impossible. Peace would have been enough.

Your eyes wandered over the verses of ink. Some of the poems you recognised, written by people you had known, friends. One was from your mother.

As a child she had always read it to you, called it a play of fantasy, a wish that would remain unspoken forever. It had made you dream.

What if?

The only answer you had received to that question was her death. And yet. Nothing but tiredness stirred in your chest over this loss. While Lucien and Luis were full of rage since that day and your father was consumed by grief, you could do nothing but sigh.

Just another name in the writers' book. Another funeral service and another death to be repaid. It was probably no different on the painters' side.

You yawned again. This time you felt the urge to curl up and fall into a slumber from which you never had to wake up again. Maybe it really would be better to see your mother again. At least then all this tediousness would come to an end.

"I can't understand why all this is so important either.", a soft voice suddenly sounded.

Shyly, as if the owner wanted to hide, the words rang out in the midst of the silence and tore through the fog that was clouding your mind. Blinking, you looked around.

"Hm?", your eyebrows raised as you spotted the youngest daughter of the Dessendre family.

A thin smile appeared on her face, hidden by red strands of long hair. She didn't dare look at you, but when you approached, she didn't run away either. With her arms crossed behind her back she watched you in a way that was so strangely innocent and unsettling.

She didn't know. The way she looked at you was so completely unaware. You were just a woman to her but she was an enemy to you.

Easy prey, you thought to yourself. Lucien and Luis would love you.

The two of you met in front of a painting of a woman, caught in a movement of pure bliss and elegance. For the first time in weeks, something other than indifference stirred in you: Curiosity.

"A beautiful painting.", you said with a nod at the dancing woman.

She had no face, instead she wore a mask and was dressed in fabric and pearls. The colours or yellow, gold, reds and greens mingled in a perfect manner. They seemed to melt into each other as if every single dot had a purpose, a deeper meaning.

"Papa calls her Sirène.", she explained, a nostalgic expression in her pale blue eyes. "She reminds him of maman. Everything he paints reminds him of her."

"Ah...", your eyes got lost in the brushstrokes of pigment. "That sounds like my father... He... used to write a lot for our mother. Sometimes just for her."

Silence fell over you both, neither of you knew what to say, what could have been said. What was allowed to say.

Pale eyes travelled over your face, observing your every reaction, the way you stood, the way you breathed. As if she wanted to look deeper than just your skin. Deeper, through flesh and muscle to your very core.

The beat of your heart hammered in your chest. On the one hand, you envied her naivety, her ability to stand with you without feeling fear. On the other hand, you pitied her for it. She would be so easy to get her hands on, to be taken advantage of without it really being her fault.

"My name is Alicia.", the hand she offered you was small, almost honey. "Dessendre. But you already knew that..."

She was short, but must have been an adult. You accepted the gesture with due respect. Up until this point there was no need for rudeness.

"(Y/N).", you introduced yourself with a smile and nodded at the poems you had admired earlier. "My blood is ink."

Alicia chuckled softly.

"That's what I thought.", she shyly averted her eyes again, thinking.

"You're not very familiar with the... let's call it disagreements between our people, are you?", you asked.

She shook her head.

"I'm not interested either."

You nodded. It became quiet again. And once again you couldn't take your eyes off the painting. How beautiful it was. How much you would have liked to combine this art with yours to see what could come of it.

"I could show you.", she said suddenly, as if your thoughts had taken shape in her head. "If you want... and show me what it's like to write."

Your eyes wandered over her.

Naive and yet so full of power to change something.
Naive and oh, so dangerous.
Naive but also brave.

"That would be wonderful.", it slipped from your lips.

Chapter Text

Sometimes there were questions without answers. And sometimes there were answers without anything being asked. In your case, you weren't sure which of the two it was.

But you knew that it was not only dangerous but stupid to meet with a painter. Alicia had been so nice, so friendly. She'd barely got a word out and yet she'd said so much.

Her eyes had sparkled when you had accepted the invitation. She had smiled as if a stone had fallen from her heart. And although it didn't make sense that she had asked you, had made such a big offer without even knowing you, you didn't want to disappoint her. You couldn't let her down.

She was like the little sister you never had. So you said yes as if it was just a small favour. You had planned and made sure that your meetings were private. Nobody had seen you and if they had, they hadn't recognised you.

At first it had just been little things, harmless and nothing more than going for tea together, talking to each other about worries and hopes. But the more you did with her, the more you felt connected to the young woman.

She was so much like you. Or you were like her.

Either way, it barely took a few weeks, a few silly activities and you would have claimed she had become your friend. A strange feeling to admit this.

And yet. It made you happy to know that there was someone who liked you. Someone who wasn't part of your family and was not plagued by the same hatred as everyone else. Someone who didn't keep repeating the same things and dwelling on the same past offences.

Alicia was a breath of fresh air in your world. And it brought you back to life.

Lost in these thoughts, you leaned against a wall in the shade and waited. Summer slowly faded into autumn and as you lifted your eyes to the grey sky, a drop of rain fell on your face.

The pearl rolled down your (S/C) cheek like a tear, slipped off your chin and onto the paving stones to shatter like glass. Your (E/C) gaze lingered on the spot as if the event could be undone and the raindrops could return.

One single mistake. It only took one mistake and then your friendship with Alicia would end just like the drop, shattered on stone and seeped into the dirt.

"(Y/N).", torn from your thoughts, you flinched as Alicia whispered your name, as she often did.

Your eyes met and, as always, she smiled as if she was about to meet an old friend again. The sight made you smile too.

It had been a while since your last secret meeting and you longed to tell her about unnecessary things, to show her the fabric from which your new dress was to be made. You wanted to hear her talk about how hard it was to keep up with her perfect sister Clea while she herself was always trying to paint what made her happy. And you wanted to laugh at how upset she got when she talked about her brother Verso's jokes.

You wanted to finally crawl out of the hole your family had dug since your mother died to feel alive for just one day.

"Took you a some time today.", you looked round in all directions as you approached her. "I thought you weren't coming."

Pressing her lips into a thin line, she shook her head. She had hidden her red hair under a black cap. Something about her confused you.

"What is it?", you asked. "Did someone follow you? Have they seen you?"

Her pale eyes travelled over her shoulder into the shadows of the dark alley she had come from. Something, or rather someone, moved in the darkness.

"You can read my sister pretty well for only knowing each other for such a short time.", a male voice said.

You were unfamiliar with the harsh tone, the hoarse speech to suppress the power in the words. Your eyes searched for Alicia. She chewed the inside of her cheek with a forgiving expression.

"He's very attentive.", she tried to explain. "And asked me where I always go."

Your mouth opened.

"I asked her to take me with.", Verso stepped out of the shadows, dressed in a long coat and inconspicuous brown work clothes.

You got to see him for the first time since the opera house. And what a sight he was, tall with broad shoulders and a crooked smirk on his lips. The black hair reached down to his shoulders, just like you remembered. And this one strand of white hair danced across his face.

When your gazes met, you weren't sure whether his eyes were white or pale blue.

"Nobody can find out about this.", you put a hand on Alicia's shoulder. "I can't... I don't want to hurt her. We're just-!"

"Friends.", she interrupted your desperate attempt to defend this meeting. "(Y/N) and I are friends. Please, Verso, don't ruin this for me. I like her. She's nice to me and we laugh."

"She's a writer.", he looked at you again, his thick eyebrows drawn together. "And if I remember correctly, a mighty one too."

"I'm just my father's child.", you snarled. "Are you accusing me of that? What about you? You're your parent's son, aren't you? Have you always done what they wanted you to?"

"Like fight a useless war?", he asked, one eyebrow raised, his head tilted.

"Verso.", Alicia grabbed his hand. "This is nothing but a silly friendship. We don't plot or fight or try to spy on each other. This is for us, not them."

For a brief moment his eyes remained on his sister. It was so obvious how he had a soft spot for her. Perhaps that had been his greatest weakness.

And the reason why he had paid the price for your and Alicia's stupidity.

Chapter Text

"You always think so much.", lovingly Verso put a hand under your chin to make you look at him.

As the light of the moon reflected in your eyes, you took your eyes off the garden. The little house you were hiding in was on the outskirts of Paris where the city ended and the woods and meadows began.

A few years had passed since he had learnt about your meetings with Alicia and his curiosity had led to something between you that could not be described as anything other than a sin.

Although he was born a painter, you quickly realised that music was his passion. Like that day at the opera house, you listened to him play and fell in love with him.

Now you met in this little hideaway and savoured the piece of happiness in a city that was consumed by hatred and rivalry. With a deep sigh, you placed a hand on his chest and breathed a kiss to his lips.

"We've been doing this for so long.", you whispered with a tired smile. "At some point our luck will run out."

He kissed the top of your head.

"Alicia won't tell on us.", he assured.

You smiled.

"I know... but what about others?", worry made you swallow hard, your fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt. "I'm afraid... my brothers. They've been strange lately. I think... I don't know what I think..."

His arms wrapped around you. Every time he hugged you, you were filled with a warmth that you couldn't describe. You would have given so much to be able to feel that warmth forever, to have him so close to you.

"If it were possible...", he thought for a moment. "Ma belle. You most beautiful of all women."

His flattery made you chuckle. Whenever he had a stupid idea, he would flatter you, hoping to soften you up to it. Admittedly, it worked most times. That was one downside to that irresistible charm of his. Although sometimes he did it just because.

To show you his love, the devotion with which he cherished this relationship. It felt like he worshipped you like a goddess. As if you were the only thing he truly believed in.

"Râpe à bonbons.", teasingly you gave him a shove against the chest.

With a broad grin, he stumbled back two steps. His hand reached out for yours. Fingers interlocked. And when your eyes met, your chest was heavier than it had ever been before.

You didn't want to lose him, couldn't lose him. He was so much more than just a love. If there were soul mates, then you were cursed because Verso was just that to you. He was the part of your soul that was missing.

"Why do you have to be a painter?", you caressed his cheek with a sad smile.

The hairs of his beard tickled your fingers. How you loved that feeling. And as you did so he let out a soft sigh. His eyes flickered as he leaned into the touch.

"Why do you have to be a writer?", Verso asked back.

You laughed. Tears stung your eyes.

"I don't know... If I could... If the ink gave me the power. I would do so many things. Everything."

Taking a deep breath, Verso closed his eyes.

Lately, your happiness had no longer grown in the light of the moon, thrived with the stars. Instead, the shadows of the nights you met in secret had grown.

Thoughts tormented you. Worries made him look for you more and more often. He seemed restless and knew that you noticed. You were all the more worried that this restlessness could make him careless. It was already dangerous that you were seeing each other at all, that you had a relationship at all.

This worry had been weighing on you for far too long. And your thoughts became darker and darker. Verso noticed that. He was observant and, if you were honest with yourself, he was frighteningly good at reading you. Sometimes you had the feeling that he knew you better than you knew yourself.

"Ma vie.", he gently embraced your face and kissed every free spot he could find. "My beautiful poetess. Do not look at me that way. Don't think like this. It kills the light in your perfect eyes."

Again the flattery made your lips curl into a smile. How you loved it when he held back his strong voice and whispered sweet words to you in a throaty hum. Then he sounded as gentle as he was on the inside. You loved Verso for so many things but especially for being a good man.

"You talk too much, my love.", you kissed him.

And as so often, he put his arms around your waist and pulled you so close to him that you wished you could melt into him. Maybe that would be the only way to be together: to become one.

"Maybe fate is against us...", you whispered against his lips.

The hairs of his dark beard tickled you, slightly scratchy but also soft. Your hands found his face, nails lightly scratching his chin. Like a cat, he closed his eyes and hummed as you nuzzled him.

At first he had hated it, or at least pretended to, but over time he had come to enjoy it more and more. Now he was practically begging with his eyes to be cuddled whenever.

"Fate can be against us as much as it wants.", he stole another kiss from your lips, impatient and hungry. "But I will not let you go. Never again. I would have to die for that. Ma vie."

You chuckled but it also made your heart constrict. It hurt. And yet this pain was so bittersweet.

"Don't say that.", you leaned your forehead against his. "Don't push our luck."

Exhaling deeply, his eyes closed. He thought about it. His hands still held you so tightly as if he was afraid you might run away.

"Marry me.", his request lit up the night like the moon had never done before.

Goose bumps chased over your body.

"And then?", you asked while happiness sprouted in your chest.

"Then we go."

"Where shall we go?"

He laughed.

"Wherever you want, ma plus chère. Marry me and I will take you away."

Tears watered the (E/C) of your eyes.

"Promise.", you begged.

He smirked.

"If you marry me."

You laughed.

"I will."

Chapter Text

Tears burned your eyes while your whole body trembled. You knelt on the floor in your bare feet, the layers of your dress caked with soot and splattered with blood.

The screams still echoed in your ears. You thought you could still feel the heat of the flames on your face, see his smile and the way he reached out for you.

Goosebumps crawled up your arms. If only you had jumped into the flames that day. Then your ashes would have become one and the suffering hadn't been.

"I beg you...", your voice shattered like orbs of glass.

Every single word cut your throat, made you bleed. You tasted the iron of blood. The urge to spit it out overcame you. Nausea constricted your throat. For a brief moment, you thought you were choking.

Wordlessly, the woman stared down at you. Her eyes were sunken, she didn't speak, looked old and fragile. Sitting on a stool, she watched over the huge painting waiting on an easel behind her.

Colours moved in the frame, vivid and with a sweet promise that you longed for so much. It smelled of fire. Screams echoed in your ears.

"Aline...", in pain you could curl up on the cold stone floor. "I beg you! I beg you for mercy. I wish for a second chance."

Your body was suffering. Your spirit lay in shambles in the shell of a woman you were now.

Aline, Verso's mother, continued to stare at you. The thing that hurt the most was her gaze, so empty. There was no hate left for you, no threats. You would have preferred her to pounce on you and take your life. Then at least the suffering would have ended.

"You killed him.", she whispered.

Words could be so much more dangerous than a blade to the neck. How you wished you could break your (S/C) skin with them and let the blood flow.

"Forgive me.", tears streamed down your face. "My brothers... If I had known... I- I never meant to betray Alicia's trust..."

"They set a fire.", life returned to her voice, shaky and so hoarse with rage. "Your brothers... killed him!"

"Forgive me..."

"He died for Alicia."

"I wish I could have stopped it... Forgive me.", trembled and gasping for air you managed to look up at her only to start chuckling like a lunatic. "No! No, don't do it. Let me make it up to you."

Confusion and despair mingled on her face. The last time you had seen her, on the day of the fire in which Verso had died, she had not seemed so old. Now she was a woman who was closer to death than to life. Or wanted to be. And in a strangely disgusting way, you could understand her.

"You want a second chance?", she rose from her stool so angrily that it toppled over with the momentum. "You... you writer want a second chance?! You killed my son!"

"I loved him!", your voice made the atelier shake. "If I could- if it were possible... I would give my life and all the ink I have to get him back. Please! Just one last time I want to see him. One last time..."

Your eyes wandered to the ring that shimmered on your finger. Verso's last promise. You had been so close to happiness. So close to escaping. Tears soaked the floor underneath your hands, salt wetted your lips. You felt sick.

If only you wouldn't have been foolish enough to return home one last time in an attempt to say a final goodbye to your family.

"It was stupid.", with trembling fingers you gripped the ring and squeezed so hard that the metal left deep gouges in your (S/C) skin. "I- I know my brothers... I should have known... It was my fault. And I was stupid to think they weren't cruel."

"I wish they were dead!", she screamed.

The colours of the painting trembled. As if they were reacting to her emotions, they contracted and became restless. Looking at them, you wondered if her minds had an effect on the world inside the canvas.

If you fled there, you would be completely at her mercy. And yet. Even if it cost you your life, you were willing to pay the price. Even if it meant losing everything you were and everything you loved. Because there was only one thing you were obsessed with: Verso.

He had been the part your soul had needed to be complete. Now he was gone and you would forever be incomplete. And it wouldn't change until the day you died.

Your fingers wrapped around your neck, trembling. Your breath caught in your throat as you squeezed just enough to make it hurt. After so many times there were markings.

Aline stared at you.

"I tried...", you confessed as tears made your eyelashes stick together. "I've tried so many times... I want to be with him again... I want him to talk to me, to make him laugh... I want to tease him and make him angry..."

Her face twisted.

"You don't deserve him!", she shrieked.

Tears ran down her face. You laughed. It was such a strange sound, so lifeless and without happiness. It was the first time you had laughed in weeks. And it drove you crazy.

"I know...", your fingernails dug into your neck. "I know! And yet... Aline... I beg you. I'll give you everything I have... everything I can give..."

Your hands shot up and clawed into the fabric of her dress. Taken by surprise, she wanted to step back. But when your eyes met, she sucked in a sharp breath. The expression on her face faltered and for a moment she seemed so completely insecure in her disdain for you.

Perhaps in that one moment she saw a spark of herself in you.

"I want the lives of your brothers.", she said hoarsely.

You laughed.

And cried.

And laughed even more.

"Take them!", you shouted. "Take everything you want. And I'll give you everything I have to give."

"Everything?", she asked.

"Everything..."

She thought about it for a moment.

"Then protect him this time. If I can't do it, protect him. Even if it costs your life."

Icy cold wrapped around your body. And yet. You hadn't felt so alive since his death.

"I- I promise... in the name of the ink in my veins."

Chapter Text

Drenched in sweat and with your heart beating up to your neck, you woke up. Eyes wide open, they jumped through the small one room apartment where you lived.

The first light of the day fell through the glass balcony door. It still smelt of the food you had left on the cooker the night before to cool down.

Sweat dripped in small beads from your forehead as you managed to sit up in bed. The sheets were rumpled from a restless sleep. Your whole body ached. Almost as if it remembered something your mind didn't.

"Merde...", with a deep sigh you wiped your face with both hands.

Your fingers were trembling. Like so many days before, you had a bad dream. Evil tongues would have said it was because you were overworked, but you didn't want to hear about it. Other people in Lumière worked under worse conditions and weren't paid half as much as you were.

Still haunted by the shadows of a dream, you pushed your feet out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom to wash your face with cold water. With a quick glance at the clock, another sigh escaped you, heavy and plagued by fatigue.

It was still early in the morning, at least by your standards. You usually fell straight into bed at eight o'clock at the end of your shift and then slept until the early evening to enjoy a few hours of free time before you had to go back to work. This rhythm used to work well, but with the bad dreams it became increasingly difficult to get the rest you needed.

"Only until Sunday.", you mumbled and dried your face with a towel. "Next week is your week off. Then you can sleep."

Still half asleep, you stumbled back into the living room, the only room of the small apartment, where your bed was. You took a quick look at the sheets. You could still take a nap until it was time to go back to work.

On the other hand, there was this feeling in the back of your neck, this confusion that something had happened that you couldn't remember. The smell of fire and smoke still lingered in your nose. You could taste the salt of tears on your tongue even though you hadn't cried.

Tired, you rubbed your face with both hands.

"Maybe a walk will help...", you hurriedly rummaged some clothes out of the wardrobe, slipped into your shoes and left your home with a bag slung over your shoulder.

Coins clinked in your wallet as you stumbled down the narrow wooden staircase. It wasn't until you were out on the street that the tight feeling around your chest disappeared. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes.

Grey clouds covered the sun. It was dark, felt like it was going to start pouring any minute. The cobblestones under your shoes were still dusty from the sun the days before.

Only the trees showed that it was autumn, their leaves glowing in all colours and there was hardly a flower to be seen in the tubs that the owners of small shops had placed on the pavements to decorate the city.

Without really knowing where you were going, you began to wander quietly through the small alleyways, humming to yourself.

Displays filled with sweets, crafts and stationery passed you by. There was also a small carpentry shop near your flat where you had requested your bed to be made.

One of the employees was sitting outside the entrance, taking a smoke break while he swept up the wood shavings. Your eyes met as you passed and he greeted you with a cigarette in his mouth and a nod as he took off his cap with one free hand.

"Good morning, commander.", he said.

Smiling politely, you nodded to him.

"Good morning.", you hurried past him into another alley.

There you were met by the smell of freshly baked bread. Your stomach growled but for some reason you didn't stop to buy anything. Your legs guided you onwards while your (E/C) eyes tried to take in everything.

Every little detail seemed familiar to you, just as it was in a place where one lived. You had been born in Lumière, had never seen anything else. Granted, as a teenager you had accompanied the expeditions to explore the rest of the continent a few times, but that hadn't been earth-shattering.

So why were you so confused to see the shops you'd walked past so many times before?

Why did the people around you feel like strangers even though they greeted you?

It was strange, felt like you didn't belong in this place even though you desperately wanted to. Lumière was your home. And you were exactly where you wanted to be.

Just why couldn't you shake this weird feeling of discomfort that came whenever someone was new somewhere?

You felt like a stranger in your own city of origin. Like a fraud.

"What the hell?", you wiped your face with both hands again.

This time it felt better, more real, as if your body was getting used to what it was like to be there again. Deep in thought, you stepped out of the alley at the other end. Sunlight kissed your face, blinding you as you looked up from the cobblestones to get a good view of the surroundings.

In your confusion, you had strayed to the centre of the city. In a large square, a tree rose up into the air, its branches reaching almost to the sky. The leaves shimmered in all the colours of autumn while stalls for the weekly market lined up in their shade.

Lumière wasn't large and people didn't expand very quickly due to the dangers behind the city walls, which was why there was a pleasant hustle and bustle. Every now and then, some passers-by raised their heads when they took note of you.

Then they nodded, expressed their thanks or their admiration. Something inside you knew that this was nothing special. Nevertheless, it felt a little strange at that moment.

You stopped in front of the tree. A bench was waiting in the shade for someone to use it.

"Oh wonder I'll get to see you again on a bright green day.", a teasing voice suddenly sounded.

Blinking, you glanced over your shoulder.

"Sophie.", you smiled, something inside you knew that she was your friend.

With a wave, she put her hands on her hips.

"You look awful.", she laughed. "But oh well. I wouldn't look any better if I did your work."

Chapter Text

Memories flooded your mind as you stepped through the front door of Sophie's dressmaker's shop. Fabrics were piled up in mountains, so high that the white walls behind them could no longer be seen. There were feathers, ruffles and other material everywhere that she used to create.

Your gaze fell on the sofa covered in red velvet and you were immediately overcome by the instinct not to just sit there without first looking for pins or needles. It had already happened once or thousands of times that something had pricked your bottom.

"You look like you haven't slept for days.", Sophie threw a bundle of fabric on the floor so she could search her desk.

The shop seemed so familiar, small and cramped but so full of the wonders she could create in this place. Sophie was one of the few dressmakers in all of Lumière. The best, in your opinion, but she was too modest to admit it.

Taking a deep breath, you checked the sofa for sharp objects before sinking down on it. This also felt so familiar. You had sat in this exact spot so many times before, it could have been called tradition. It even felt completely natural that you stretched out your legs and rested your arm on the backrest.

"I've been sleeping badly lately.", you admitted, wiping a stray (H/C) strand of hair from your forehead.

Sophie disappeared behind her desk, looking for something.

"Tell me something new.", she teased and reappeared with a wooden box.

You recognised the inscription on it. Sophie and you had made a deal between friends that she would make you anything you wanted if she had the time and you would get her the materials. Whenever the Gestral merchants came round to offer their wares in Lumière, you bought something from them, mostly fabrics with beautiful patterns, but sometimes also stones and other things you had already found.

Everything was collected in this box and when it was full it was given to Sophie so that she could work her magic. Jewellery, dressed and shoes, there was hardly anything she couldn't make.

This time was no exception.

"You're done?", excitement dispelled the confusion.

Suddenly you were sitting bolt upright on the sofa, barely able to keep your feet still. Smiling conspiratorially, she pointed with her chin to the curtain in the corner behind which her customers could change.

"Let's look on the bright side.", she said. "At least we don't have to wait until Monday for the final fitting. Do you want to try it on right away?"

Grinning broadly, you jumped up from your seat and crossed the room to take a look in the box. If your memory didn't cloud you, this time your order had been limited to simple daywear, a pair of black cloth trousers and matching braces. But when you looked inside, you realised that Sophie had also made a blouse.

"Crazy pattern...", you pulled it out from under your trousers to get a better look at it.

"I had some left over and thought you might like it.", she put the box on her desk. "I know it's a bit daring and you're not really into standing out, but a little colour in your wardrobe wouldn't do you any harm."

Teasingly, she plucked at the collar of the blouse you were wearing.

"What's wrong with white linen?", you frowned and looked her up and down.

As always, Sophie was perfectly dressed in her white blouse with black polkadots on it. She wore a red skirt, a matching beret and knee-length white stockings. And as always, her feet were clad in black leather Mary Janes. Her jewellery was limited to gold earrings and bangles, simple but exactly Sophie.

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she shook her head with a roll of her eyes. The hair of her black bob bobbed as she moved.

"Nothing wrong with that but it's...", she pointed at you from top to bottom. "So... minimal. Simple."

"You were going to say boring.", you snorted with a grin.

She had to suppress a chuckle.

"I didn't want to be mean."

You huffed.

"Please, Soph. Since when have I been sensitive?"

"Since never?", a male voice answered before she could.

Sophie rolled her eyes.

"Friendly as ever.", your attention turned to the front door.

In the sunlight, two men stood on the doormat, roughly the same height and so similar that they were different again. They both wore suits, one in blue and the other in a natural brown with gold accents.

Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you gave the man in the brown suit an annoyed look.

"What else can you expect from the commander of the day watch?", you asked.

His face twisted into a sarcastic grimace.

"How nice that the night doesn't spoil your bad sense of humour, night owl.", he replied with a wry smirk.

The man in blue shook his head with a sigh.

"You two...", he mumbled and approached Sophie with open arms to kiss her.

"We used to be like that, Gustave.", she teased him.

The other man snorted. You raise your arms defensively.

"Maybe, but I'm not planning to marry Verso.", you replied, pointing at the dream couple. "And you two are taking far too long."

"Seriously.", Verso raised an eyebrow. "How long has it been since the engagement?"

"Twelve years.", you guessed.

Gustave raised his hands.

"Okay, okay. First of, do you have any idea how expensive a wedding is? Like- all the flowers... and- and the guest list. Food?", he said. "You two- I mean really... you think you're different."

"We are.", you shrugged.

"It would be boring if all the childhood friends in Lumière married each other.", Verso agreed.

"You two are exhausting.", Sophie gave you a shove on the shoulder. "Now get changed. We don't have forever."

With a roll of your eyes and a smile on your lips, you grabbed the box and disappeared behind the curtain.

"New clothes again?", Verso dropped down onto your seat on the couch. "Soon you'll have more than me."

"Don't make me laugh!", you shouted as your arms struggled with the sleeves of your blouse. "You have cupboards full."

"Not true at all."

"Verso, you have your own dressing room.", Gustave frowned.

Verso shrugged.

"There's a lot of space in the mayor's house."

"Your father, Verso.", Sophie reminded him. "Renoir is your father and you still live at home."

He stretched with a grin.

"Why not?", he wiped the white streak from his face that was growing out of his wavy black hair.

"Because you're thirty-three and, as commander of the day watch, you earn enough to get your own place?", you threw at him from the corner. "At some point you gotta move out and give your parents some space."

He snorted.

"Listen to what the orphan says..."

"Don't make me hurt you again."

Chapter Text

"Soph, did I ever tell you that you're the best seamstress in this universe?", slipping your hands into the pockets of your new trousers, you came out from behind the curtain to look at yourself in the mirror.

Under Verso's watchful eye, you turned round a few times to see all sides. As always, Sophie had taken your measurements to heart and made the trousers tight where it was flattering and a little looser where she knew you wanted it concealed. It looked splendid with your white blouse. Even the brown leather braces looked like she made them just for you.

Of course that was true, but it was a matter of principle. Sophie not only knew what she was doing, she also knew what would be good for you. And these trousers were definitely designed to make you look the way you wanted.

"The seams could be a little tighter.", she knelt next to you with a pin cushion tied around her wrist. "I can still see the white threads."

"Enculeur de mouches.", you mumbled. "The trousers are perfect."

Gustave had sat down in the chair at Sophie's desk and was watching from a distance.

"Looks really good, Sophie.", he agreed.

"Good?", you raised an eyebrow, snorting. "Perfect, you mean."

He grinned in agreement. Only Verso remained suspiciously silent. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. His arms crossed in front of his chest, he was slumped on the couch, staring gloomily ahead of him.

He was by no means a fierce person, he could even be quite funny when he wanted to be, but nature, or his father, had blessed him with thick, black eyebrows. Whenever he looked up from below and frowned slightly, he gave the impression that he had to pull himself together not to jump down someone's throat.

Verso was the definition of hard shell, soft core. However, because of his gift for scowling at people, most of them were intimidated before they even tried to get through to the soft core. Only you knew him well enough to interpret what he was thinking at that moment. At least that's what you claimed.

"Speak your judgement.", hands on your hips, you looked at him.

Torn from his thoughts, his gaze lifted and met yours. It was hard to guess what colour his eyes were. In summer they usually looked glassy blue, now in the darker seasons they could have been a pale green. You had long since given up guessing and teased him that the iris was white. This usually led to long discussions between you in which it became clear that he himself wasn't sure what colour his eyes were but didn't want to accept white.

Taking a deep breath, he stretched out his legs and lifted his chin to let his gaze wander over his trousers. Even though you never doubted Sophie's skills, you still put a lot of stock in Verso's opinion. In a strange way, he had an eye for what looked good on you. And usually his choices were so spot on that they became the parts that got you the most compliments.

"Hmm.", curling his lips, he gestured for you to come closer.

"Don't pretend.", rolling your eyes, you approached him.

He leaned forward, as if he wanted to take the closest look at the trousers that anyone would ever take.

"Hmm.", he grumbled again and scratched his bearded chin. "I don't know... something about it."

Without asking permission, his hands reached out to grab you by the waist. A shiver ran through your body. This was nothing new.

You and Verso had been friends for as long as you could remember, had known each other since you were children. It didn't come from just anywhere that your friendship circles had a running gag, that you two refused to accept that you were made to date each other.

And yet. Every time he touched you, as insignificant as it was, your body reacted as if it was this one thing that kept you alive.

"Either you find something to complain about or you leave it.", teasingly you put a hand on his head.

The black hair nestled in waves against your fingers. As if by themselves, you curled them so that your nails ran lightly over his scalp. His eyes flickered at the sensation. He held his breath for a moment.

"I don't think the trousers look good on you.", he finally said.

Your heart sank.

"You can be such an arse, Verso.", Gustave replied.

Sophie crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"I've been sitting there for a long time.", she said. "And now you want me to do what?"

Verso put his full palms on your hips. As so often, this made you move closer to him. Your left arm wrapped around his shoulders, broad and strong from the twelve-hour shifts he had to do as commander of the day watch.

His arms wrapped around your legs, hugging them as he dropped his head to the side to rest his cheek against your stomach. Immediately your fingers found his face to run your nails over the edges of his jaw.

This had happened so many times that neither Gustave nor Sophie even questioned it. It was an open secret, and the talk of the town, that the commander of the day watch and the commander of the night watch were suspiciously close. There were even some people who doubted that you felt nothing for each other beyond friendship.

Sometimes you weren't sure yourself. But you wouldn't make a fool of yourself to find out either.

"A skirt would suit her better, don't you think, Soph?", Verso said.

The word immediately made Sophie prick up her ears.

"Uhhh, skirt? Maybe with a bit of embroidery on the hem?", she looked at you with shimmering eyes.

You sighed.

"You both know I can't wear something like that.", you asked sarcastically.

Verso snorted.

"Maybe at work.", he agreed. "But you should in your free time."

"When do I have free time?"

"When Verso is working.", Sophie pulled out a pen and paper.

You already knew what would happen.

"I won't get out of this, will I?", you asked.

She shook her head.

"Not at all.", her pen was already on paper. "Besides, the town festival is coming up and you need something pretty."

"I like my clothes, Soph."

"Still, there's nothing wrong with a skirt.", Verso interjected.

"Or a dress.", Gustave chipped in.

"I'll kill you..."

Chapter Text

Humming quietly to herself, Sophie scribbled all over her sheet of paper with sketches for a skirt, but didn't miss the opportunity to throw in a design for a dress.

Skilfully, and praying, you ignored this. With your arms folded across your chest, you slumped next to Verso on the sofa and waited in silence for her to finally finish living out her wildest dreams.

"Maybe we haven't thought this through.", Verso whispered to you as you watched her cross her paper and curse softly.

Your lips pressed into a thin line, you frowned.

"When do you ever think?", you asked back.

He nudged you with his shoulder.

"Don't be such a meany. Slept badly?"

You sighed.

"For weeks.", a sigh got stuck in your throat.

"That why you're up so early?"

"It's not that early..."

With a smirk, he glanced up at the clock.

"It's before three.", he replied. "When did you get home from work?"

Falling into exhaustion, you let your eyes fall shut to doze a little. Darkness swallowed the small shop around you. Yet it felt like you knew the surroundings even without having to see.

"Same as always.", you replied, frowning. "Why are you here anyways? Got kicked from the city guard?"

"Off week.", he reminded you.

"Right...", you yawned.

Although Verso and you did the same job, he had picked his poison as commander of the day watch. You had started together, he worked the week when you were off and you worked the nights of the week he was off.

As a result, your time together was drastically reduced and it was rare, except on public holidays. Still, something seemed strange to you.

"I'm working this week...", you mumbled. "Then you'll be working next week."

Humming in agreement, he sank even deeper into the pillows. His shoulder shuffled so low that you could lean your head against it.

"Changed the weeks by the way.", he said.

The question of why was already on the tip of your tongue when your stomach suddenly growled. The sound was so loud that it sent a wave of heat through your head. Shame made you suck in the air sharply.

"Sounds like someone's hungry.", all of a sudden Verso stood up.

"Starving...", you muttered.

You were about to sink into the cushions of the sofa when suddenly hands wrapped around your hips. With a jerk, you stood up on your feet. Grumbling, you gave him a grim look.

"Ne me casse pas les pieds.", you hissed.

"You really are hungry.", he winked. "Let's grab a bite. My treat."

Taking a deep breath, you let your gaze wander tiredly to Sophie, who was still obsessively working on drawing a sketch in which she could see you. Admittedly, even though this was a dream come true she had been begging for so long, it was the first time you had allowed her to tailor a skirt.

Although at the moment it looked as if she had rejected the idea, completely lost her mind and was now assuming that you would settle for a dress as well. The thought sent a shiver down your spine.

"I think she's busy.", Gustave smirked as he watched his fiancée indulge in her passion.

Verso pulled you by the sleeve to the door.

"Are you sometimes jealous that she will never love you as much as she loves designing?", he asked in Gustave's direction.

He just rolled his eyes and made a sarcastic noise.

"I'm not as insecure as you.", he waved goodbye with a sweeping gesture. "See you around."

Grinning spitefully, Verso pushed you out of the door.

"Poutain.", he snickered.

The light of the sun blinded you as you stopped in the middle of the street to yawn loudly and stretch your arms in the air. Tiredness plagued you. Everything felt so heavy.

"You two are a real dream team.", you tease him. "You even dress the same now."

Playfully, you tugged at the collar of his suit. Verso snorted, wipes your hand away to push you to start walking.

"Sophie makes good suits and, as luck would have it, Gustave and I look good in the same cut.", he defended himself. "Besides, we are the only two men in our group. Gotta stick together. Maybe you should have one made too."

A snort escaped you.

"So we can form a band?"

"Uh, fun. What do we call ourselves then?"

"Deux idiots et une femme ?", you asked with a cocky grin.

He laughed.

It had been a while since you had been walking around, just the two of you. The different working hours and the fact that you slept when he worked made it a bit difficult to find a time when it was possible to meet up. And when it was, there were often others around.

Sophie and Gustave were the kind of people who invited themselves to meetings and then brought others along. Not that you had anything against it, but there was no room between you and Verso and sometimes it was just a natural urge of yours to just be among yourselves.

Even at that moment, that wasn't possible. As commander of the day watch, he was quite well known and popular. People recognised him faster than you, greeted him more often because he also looked a bit friendlier. Admittedly, that was fine with you. Too much contact with people was tiring, one of the reasons why you had decided to join the night watch.

Your stomach growled again. Verso had noticed how hungry you were, and it wasn't just because you had known each other for a long time. He was also pretty good at reading you. It was no different the other way round.

"Alors. What are you in the mood for?", he asked as you strolled through the streets.

Yawning, you wiped the last of the sleep from your eyes.

"For something edible.", you answered.

As if he had been waiting for his cue, he pulled something out of his trouser pocket.

"A peach for the meantime?", he asked.

With a snort, you burst out laughing.

"The hell?", you grabbed the fruit, round and so dark red that the skin can be pressed in with your fingers.

The sweet scent of juice was already oozing from the stem, which had left a small tear when it was picked. The first bite was so good and juicy that it made your fingers sticky.

"You're welcome.", he gave you a teasing nudge with his shoulder. "You're always such a diva when you're hungry."

"La ferme!", you pushed him back in an annoyed manner. "So, Angelique's?"

"Obviously."

Chapter Text

Close to the town centre, there was a small bakery between the narrow streets. Hidden between the residential buildings, the green wooden façade illuminated the red brick walls.

The words Angelique's Boulangerie were written in gold on the windows of the shop window. Rows of freshly baked pastries were lined up, presenting themselves in their full beauty.

Your stomach growled at the sight.

"After you, mademoiselle.", theatrical as usual, Verso opened you the door.

Inside it was cosy, a fire crackled in a fireplace made of old hand-painted tiles. The owner of the bakery was just pulling a tray of perfect-looking tarts out of the oven when the little bell above the door announced your arrival.

With a quick nod, Verso greeted her and then headed straight for a small table in the corner with just enough room for two. There were cushions on the windowsill. As you had done so many times before, you sat down on them, leaning your back against the cold glass.

From this position, you had a view of the whole shop and the hustle and bustle outside the window. He knew how important it was for you to always have everything in your field of vision.

As a teenager, he had always teased you about it, claiming you were paranoid. Since you saved his life from a monster, he didn't do that so often anymore. But now he had a nice scar to show for over his left eye. Now you had one more reason to tease him, but you didn't feel like it at the moment.

"Menu?", he sat down on the chair directly opposite you.

With your hand outstretched, you wiggled your fingers, took it from him and flicked through the sled written pages. The options were fewer but everything sounded to die for.

"Long time to see you here together again.", Angelique, the owner of the bakery, greeted you with a smile.

She wore her black hair in a tight plait and there were traces of flour on her apron.

"Sometimes you have to treat yourself.", Verso leaned back in his chair.

"Sometimes?", she laughed. "You treat yourself practically every other day here. Same as usual?"

Smirking with amusement, you looked up at him over the edge of the menu card.

"You're such a greedy miser.", you teased him. "No own apartment but throwing out money for pastries."

Rolling his eyes, he rubbed the back of his neck. He always did that when he felt unwell or was thinking about the easiest way to get out of an unfavourable situation. This time he left it at an almost shy grin.

"Okay, I spend too much money on food, I get it.", he shrugged. "Still, I'll have my usual."

With a quiet chuckle, Angelique wrote something in her little notebook before turning her attention to your order.

"And for the lady?", she asked. "Commander of the night watch. It's practically a miracle to see you around. I feel honoured."

Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes close briefly. You usually felt ashamed when people recognised you and then addressed you with rank and merit.

"Songs of praise are for the day watch, Angelique.", you winked at Verso only to receive a middle finger from him. "I'd be happy with a simple breakfast. No extra wishes."

Thinking, she glanced over her shoulder.

"I can do breakfast.", she thought aloud. "What kind of bread?"

"One that isn't stale. I'm starving..."

"That can be avoided. Coffee or juice? Or tea?"

"Juice and coffee.", your arms crossed in front of your chest, you lean against the window again.

"We'll just have a can of both to share.", Verso stretched out his neck towards the display. "And dessert."

"Now you're getting greedy.", you nudge him under the table with your knee. "Eat what you ordered first and then we can see."

With a practised push, he shoved your leg back where it had come from.

"You'll thank me.", he said with his typical crooked grin.

You frowned.

"Me?"

"Sure. Sugar always helps to lift your spirits."

"So does sleep."

"But you can't buy sleep."

Rolling your eyes, you let your forehead fall against the cold glass.

"Whatever.", you mumbled.

Angelique laughed.

"You can decide later.", she tapped her note with her pen. "Shouldn't take long."

Verso nodded his thanks, you only managed to let out a tired hum. The world of dreams was already dancing before your eyes again.

Your whole body felt as if you hadn't rested for days, as if your legs had walked a thousand steps and your head had thought a thousand more thoughts. Even though the night shifts were hard and unfavourable, you had never felt so exhausted, drained before. As if you had only just arrived at this place after a long, difficult journey.

"Don't fall asleep.", this time Verso nudged you with his foot. "Hey. That's rude."

Grinning, you stayed leaning against the window with your arms crossed. He was just putting on airs and trying to make you feel guilty so that your full, undivided attention would only benefit his need for recognition.

"You're too pushy.", you tease him. "We stopped being teenagers a long time ago. You can't always be clamouring for my attention. Besides, everyone else is already following you with a lot of... interest."

He tilted his head. Strands of black hair fell to his shoulders. He'd had the white streak since birth, but the older he got, the clearer the contrast seemed to become. Sometimes you teased him that it made him look old.

As a teenager, he had been much more prone to such jokes and had even dyed his hair completely black for a while. When your (E/C) gaze lingered on the streak, he frowned.

"You're too old to still think your stupid jokes could make me dye it.", he replied, completely confident that would be the reason for your stare.

Snorting, you hid your face on your shoulder.

"After the last accident?", you asked with bated laughter.

A shadow flitted across his face. Now his gift for looking grim came in handy.

"That wasn't planned.", he grumbled.

You huffed.

"Really, who's so tired of life and trusts Monoco to get the dye?"

"He was in town and the only Gestral who knows where the flowers grow!", he protested.

One of your eyebrows raised.

"And then you let him dye your hair too?"

He threw his hands up in the air.

"It was a decent job."

"Your hair was green..."

"Oh, forbid a man to trust his best friend!"

"If the best friend is Monoco..."

"Shut up!"

Chapter Text

If there was one thing you had to give Verso credit for, it was that he had really excellent taste. So excellent, in fact, that his choices usually worked better for you than your own.

As a child you had been incredibly disturbed to know that he could do or say something and it brought you more satisfaction than your own decisions. By now you knew it was an advantage. When life got hard and paths ahead were unclear, you could lean on him and trust him to lead you out of the darkness.

Angelique's bakery was no different. Sighing softly, you devoured another bite of your breakfast while Verso sipped his cup of coffee.

"Don't grin like that.", you mumbled between two bites that you greedily wolfed down.

"It's thank you.", he returned snippily. "And you're welcome."

You frowned sarcastically. Your meetings just the two of you were rare, you wanted to tease him a little more until you saw each other again and the others didn't understand that everything that was said between you was done in good humour.

All the fingers on both hands weren't enough to count the times Sciel had told you off for being nicer to him. And every time Verso had laughed at you afterwards because he loved to see you when you were really uncomfortable. Besides, he knew you were rough around the edges but couldn't for the life of you be mean to Sciel.

"Thanks for what?", you asked, washing down the crossaint with jam with a sip of juice.

"Breakfast.", he said, as if it were a matter of course. "You look much prettier when you don't want to kill someone out of hunger."

Huffing, you shrugged.

"You're imagining things. The only person I'd kill would be you."

He smirked, crooked, a little dorky and yet so utterly charming that a woman at the neighbouring table looked in his direction for a moment too long.

It hadn't escaped your notice that Verso had grown into a handsome man. And you weren't surprised how women and sometimes men admired him with that one special look in their eyes. They either wanted to be like him or with him. You had two working eyes in your head yourself. It would have been crazy to pretend he wasn't everyone's type.

"Kill me?", he teased, leaning over the table. "You couldn't."

"Are you challenging me?", you tilted your head to the side, his pale eyes following the movement.

"Who would put up with someone as utterly charming and totally not scary like you but me?"

You snorted.

"If people knew how clingy you really are, they'd be on the lookout too.", you leaned towards him. "This is a parasitic relationship."

Now you could barely fit a finger between the tips of your noses. For a moment you just stared at each other, him with that charming, knee-softening smirk on his bearded face and you so completely convinced he would give up and let you win.

As a boy, he hadn't had much of a face to argue with you. As a teenager, he had been easily distracted from his reasoning whenever you smiled at him with cute winks. Now he was more experienced and no longer so hormonally driven.

You had always assumed that you would never really have to fight for a victory against Verso. But he was also full of surprises.

"Then at least we both get to benefit from this.", he pointed with two fingers, first at you and then at himself. "I call that a win. Hm?"

You held his gaze for a moment, the feeling of the pale blue or green of his eyes boring into your face as if he wanted to remember everything about it. Huffing, you had to avert your gaze.

"Mon petit chou.", the nickname was about as old as the friendship between the two of you.

However it wasn't as commonly used anymore since there was barely any time for it and you felt it didn't fit anymore. Not in a descriptive manner, he was still very much a cabbage head and you wanted him to know how stupid he could be. But as two adults you felt it was better not to call him in a way that could sprout any rumours.

Frowning, he scratched his chin.

"You call this petit?", he gestured down on himself.

A wave of heat chased through your head and made your cheeks burn. Yes, Verso was everyone's type. Yours included. But he didn't have to know that.

"You used to be.", you muttered into your glass of juice.

"And now I'm taller than you. And heavier."

"Fatass..."

He kicked you in the shin. A throbbing pain spread. Even though he never intended to seriously hurt you, you knew it would leave a nice bruise.

"That's no way to talk to the new commander of the day watch.", he lectured you.

You smirked.

"You've been for years."

Now a satisfied expression appeared on his face. As if his tactics were working exactly as he had intended them to.

"Changed weeks, remember?", he beamed with pride. "Now you no longer have to do the handover with Julie, but me."

Exhaling deeply, you put your glass down.

"Why?"

He shrugged.

"Thought it would be better."

"You've been working the other week for years. Why change now?"

His eyes wandered out of the window while you continued to stare at him. You knew from experience that he couldn't look at you when he knew that you wouldn't approve of his reasons. Or when he was embarrassed.

But it was Verso and he wasn't embarrassed about practically anything. Even if sometimes you would have preferred him not to tell you some things.

"You said you and Julie don't get on well.", he finally said.

A shiver crawled down your spine. You've had complained about her once or twice to him, just like between friends.

"I can stay professional.", you rubbed your eyes. "As for your lieutenant..."

"She's been particularly dedicated lately, I know.", Verso propped both arms on the table and met your gaze again. "And I think it would be better if she shared shifts with Sciel from now on."

"You want to dump your lieutenant on mine?", you raised an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at the corners of your mouth.

He smiled.

"No.", he reassured. "But I think Sciel gets on better with her."

"Sciel gets on with everyone."

"Exactly my thought. And... I also don't want you to start your shifts with arguments all the time."

"As I said, I can remain professional."

"Then you can be when I hand over the service to you for the evening in future."

There was more to it. But you knew that this wasn't the time for him to reveal all of his reasonings. Patience was a key element that kept your friendship together.

And you were patient like no other.

Chapter Text

"I'll take you to work.", said Verso.

With a full stomach, you stretched towards the sky and sighed. The clouds had cleared and instead a sky of red and orange appeared. Colours melted into each other while a few bright patches of light awoke. The moon tried to fight its way through the veil.

"Don't you have better things to do?", scratching your sore neck, you strolled with him through the streets to the market square.

Not far in the distance, bricks, battlements and flags rose up in massive rows, waving in the wind. Lumière was in the centre of the continent, surrounded by mountains of snow and not far from the coast. As a result, there were dangers from all directions, some that could be fought and others that could be blamed on the weather.

The first settlers who had founded the city therefore had decided to protect it with huge walls. And the protection of this wall was carried out with loyalty and responsibility by the guard, divided into day and night shifts.

It was a little ironic to think that you and Verso were two sides of the same coin. He the bright day and you the quiet night.

"It's my off week.", he shrugged.

"So you don't.", you chuckled. "You do realise that you'll run into Julie?"

Curling his nose, he pursed his lips. It was always interesting to see what he could do with his face. You could read him as well as he could read you. Verso spoke much more with his expressions than with your words and you had learnt to read it.

He, on the other hand, knew that it didn't matter what you said, but what you didn't say. And somehow he had become really good at guessing what you were hiding.

"You assume there could be trouble if she sees us together.", he replied.

Rolling your eyes, you pushed your way between a small group of people. Women in pretty dresses looked up when they saw you. The two of you greeted them with a nod, polite and formal as always. One of the guard's tasks was to maintain order and security. It was also important to maintain a good reputation in the city.

Verso didn't have it difficult in that respect, he was a Dessendre child and his father was the mayor of Lumière. Popularity came with the surname, so to speak.

"Trouble is a gracious word.", you returned.

Humming, he curled his lips into a crooked line.

"She's just temperamental.", Verso often tried to avoid saying too much about people.

"That is also a generous way to put that she's being a bitch lately."

He knew as well as you did that everything would come back to haunt you so he avoided speaking too freely to anyone but you. The subtle difference between you was that you didn't care.

Sighing, you headed towards the huge iron gate that separated the town from the main street. There was a door in the side of the wall. In front of it stood a soldier of the day watch, dressed in the usual black and gold embroidered uniform of Lumière.

"Commander.", he saluted when Verso approached. "We weren't expecting you."

Verso smiled politely.

"I'll just bring someone up and then be gone again.", his eyes wandered upwards to where the old stones were no longer quite so red and were covered in moss and slag. "Any incidents?"

The man shook his head.

"No visitors, no merchants. The lieutenant will know more. She's already waiting."

"In a good mood orrrr?", if there was one thing you didn't need that day, it was Julie trying to explain your job to you.

Unobtrusively, your eyes wandered to Verso. Maybe he really wanted to see the best in her, but you already realised that his presence would affect her mood. For better or worse was still unclear.

"That must be discussed with the lieutenant.", the soldier opened the side entrance for you.

"Thanks.", taking a deep breath, you slipped into the dark vault.

Your footsteps echoed off the bare walls, from which only a few lanterns hung to provide dim light. It was cramped and the air was stale.

"Why didn't anyone think of windows back then?", you asked into the silence.

Verso smirked. You couldn't see it, but you could feel it in your back, a soft touch that let its fingers dance across your neck. Almost like a kiss.

Once you reach the middle level, you stopped again, stretched and yawned. There were hardly any soldiers left in the long corridors of solid stone at this time of day. Most of them had finished their shift early or were about to do so.

There was usually a smooth transition between the day watch and the night watch, which was taken over by the highest-ranking person present. So either the commanders, you and Verso, or the lieutenants, Julie and Sciel.

"I have to get changed.", turning round on your heel, you headed for the leadership's quarters.

There wasn't much to see in the small room apart from four wardrobes, one for each of you and two bunk beds to rest on. There was a table with four chairs in the centre. Sciel usually left something on it, biscuits or cakes, new recipes that her wife Lune had tried out. This time there was nothing.

"Too bad.", you mumbled.

"Don't tell me you're still hungry.", Verso crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the door with his full weight.

Now nobody could just walk in. Actually, that was unnecessary, there was a lock. But out of old habit, he always guarded the doors when you needed a moment to be careless.

"Not hungry.", you open your wardrobe to rummage through the uniforms, one for each day and one in reserve. "But I like to snack."

As usual, you had forgotten to wash your uniform so the spare would have to do. Without paying attention to the fact that he was still watching you with full attention, you pulled your blouse over your head, stepped out of your shoes and threw your trousers behind you.

Now you were standing in the room in your underwear, Verso's gaze resting on your (S/C) skin. There were scars in some places, trophies of battles you had fought for this city. He himself had a few pretty ones across his cheek and nose. Fortunately, your face had been spared so far.

"Alors. Are we going to address the elephant in the room?", you examined him from the corner of your eyes.

Chapter Text

Raising an eyebrow, he tilted his head.

"You look pretty good in your underwear.", he returned cheekily.

With a smirk on your lips, you grabbed the blouse from the floor and flung it straight in his face.

"Be serious for once, mon chou.", you grumbled.

The fabric hung around his head, limp and as if he had just got out of the water. Nevertheless, you knew he could hardly hold back his laughter underneath.

"That's what I get for trying to pay you a compliment for once.", sighing theatrically he pulled the blouse off his head and began to fold it up.

Shaking your head, you got into the trousers of your uniform.

"Pervert."

"I won't take that from a woman who spend her free time watching the workers in the harbour."

"They work shirtless in the summer."

"Hmmm."

"Besides, I haven't done that since I was sixteen!"

"Excuses."

Accusingly, you point your finger at him.

"Need I remind you that you were once thrown out of the theatre for looking up the ballerinas' skirts?"

Snorting, he lifted his chin.

"I was twelve. You helped me.", he replied.

"Because you bribed me."

He couldn't argue with that, just nodded.

"You were really easy to get back then.", he joked.

This time you threw a shoe at him. He wasn't stupid enough to think the throw wouldn't hurt so he dodged it and laughed spitefully.

"At least I didn't sleep with the craziest woman in town.", you mumbled under your breath.

Verso fell silent. Then he sighed and let his gaze wander round the room. So your previous assessment hadn't clouded your judgement. It really hadn't been everything. The reason why he had changed shifts lay deeper. And it had something to do with Julie.

"The elephant in the room.", he murmured.

"Hmm...", lips pressed into a thin line, you slipped into the white shirt of the nights watch, a waistcoat of soft purple over it, with a black waistcoat on top.

A black jacket was actually needed, but it was still too warm. You would come back to get it for the night.

"Wanna talk about it?", you asked after a moment.

Silence with Verso was never uncomfortable. But sometimes it was weird considering that neither of you had anything to hide from one another.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he tilted his head, thinking. His eyes jumped through the room. He avoided you.

There was nothing that you hated more, nothing you wanted to avoid more. But the truth was that the canyon between the two of you grew every year. And he avoided you more.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes briefly. He had to think again. It was scary how insecure he was about this topic. Verso was many things, but never shy or insecure. Especially not around you. Only when it came to Julie. How you hated to know that.

All at once, he moved away from the door, walked towards the table in the centre and propped himself up with his hands. When his eyes opened again, he looked straight at you. The heart in your chest jumped.

"I needed a change.", he finally said with a mild smile and a shrug.

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head.

"Verso...", struggling for words, you massaged your forehead.

You didn't want to push him into a corner, but you knew as well as he did that something was still missing. Exhaling, he hung his head. He thought again.

"About Julie.", he chewed his lip.

"I really don't have a problem with her.", you assured him. "She's just not my kind of person."

"I know..."

"But? There's always a but."

Your eyes met. He grinned.

"There's always a but.", he agreed.

You looked at him expectantly. He did the same for a moment. You just looked at each other, like you used to when you didn't need words to understand.

"So?", you tilted your head.

"Merde... I just don't want your work to be ruined. I... want to protect you from her poor moods and- and her jabs."

"I don't need your protection. I can handle myself."

"(Y/N), I-!"

You raised your hand.

"I'm sorry.", you interrupted him. "I didn't mean it like that. I appreciate your effort and your help."

"But?", he crossed both arms in front of his chest.

"No but. I appreciate it. All I'm asking is for you to be honest with me."

"I am. I want to help you out. And... you're right. Julie is a handful and she's causing so many issues at the moment."

You looked at him. Your eyes travelled over his body, the way he stood, how restlessly his gaze wandered around the room. He felt unwell. Nevertheless, something was burning on the tip of his tongue.

"That's not all, is it?", you asked gently.

A heavy sigh made his chest quiver. The waistcoat of his suit stretched. He was quite well build, strong, had grown taller than had seemed possible in your childhood. He averted his eyes again. You hated it.

"Mon chou.", you tilted towards him. "Since when do you find it difficult to talk to me? Fine, I teased you about sleeping with Julie, but that was once. And I don't understand why she's behaving like this. But that's no reason not to talk to me. Isn't it? Verso. I beg you. I... we're friends."

He shook his head, obviously struggling for words.

"I miss you.", he finally said in a hoarse voice. "It was so long ago with Julie. But since then... since I told you... It feels like a chasm is opening up between us, that we're growing further and further apart. I want to spend my free time with you again, I don't want to have to plan to see you because our working hours aren't compatible. I want to go to parties again, get drunk with you and dance until my feet are numb. I... want it to be how it was before I made a mistake."

When he looked at you, you didn't recognise Verso. You'd never seen him so upset, his eyes glassy and a look of despair on his face. And all because of Julie. Or you.

"I miss you.", he repeated quietly. "Mon foudre."

Chapter Text

Up on the walls of the city, you let your eyes wander over the vast land beyond Lumière's borders. The evening had turned into a soft, purple night.

A cool wind caressed your cheek. The air in this place was the clearest, coldest and so pure that it felt like your lungs were expanding.

Your eyes fell shut. You only needed a single moment of peace before it was time to face the tasks again. And her. A feeling of unease still tingled at the back of your mind.

Your fingers twitched, a small flash of lightning dancing between them. There were so many things you had to think about. And even more what to do next.

On the one hand, Verso's words had opened a wound that you thought had healed. But for fucks sake it hurt so good. On the other hand, you were afraid that you would go back to the way you used to be. You were already so close that it was more than noticeable.

The rumours had been loud, had given you a headache. Only for him to turn round and jump into Julie's arms. A snort escaped you. Shaking your head, you grabbed your forehead and squeezed. The pressure eased the weight of the thoughts pressing against the top of your skull.

Maybe it really was better that he would take her place. Nevertheless, you were afraid of what would happen if you got closer to each other again. Or what wouldn't.

When you took another deep breath and raised your eyes, the first stars had risen in the sky. The moon was already stretching out the first rays of silver towards Lumière.

"You're late.", a female voice said.

Everything inside you tightened. You would have liked to let out a sigh but suppressed it. Instead, it got stuck in your throat.

"Good evening to you too, Lieutenant.", you turned to her with a polite smile.

Green eyes wandered over your face, dark and filled with dislike. Julie made no secret of her disfavour for you. It had even reached the town. First the soldiers on the wall had whispered about it, then there were rumours in Lumière. Sometimes you wondered if it was all just a circus and what she got out of it.

With a defiant movement, she held out the book in which the day and night watch kept a record of all incidents. Mostly there were just a few monsters that appeared outside the walls or patrols that had to protect the Gestral merchants on their way into the city.

"Why are you late?", she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You're usually punctual."

A long, dark brown ponytail dangled from her head. She was pretty and she knew it. Beautiful even. If you'd been honest with yourself, you wouldn't have stood a chance against her. Julie was everything Verso would have wanted in a woman, at least visually. Only problem was probably her personality.

He didn't like people pestering him, liked being alone and having time to himself. Only with you he was like a little puppy, always running after you.

It was strange, but whenever one of you was alone, you always looked for the other.

If you felt lonely, then he was the one you were looking for. Not Sophie, your best friend. Not Gustave, who could make everyone smile. Not Lune, who could solve all problems with logic. And not Sciel either, who was such a good person that everyone liked her.

No, you always turned to Verso.

And he always came to you. When his mother pestered him with her many questions, when Clea reminded him what an idiot he could be or when he didn't feel like helping Alicia and discussing things with Maelle. And when he had to talk to someone because he didn't feel half as good of a man that his father was.

When had that stopped?

When had you forgotten that the anchor had always been him in the stormy sea?

"There was something else to discuss.", you tried to avoid the question. But I'm here now and you can hand duty over. "Proceed with the protocol."

"That's irresponsible!", she huffed. "You have sworn an oath. You have a responsibility to all the people in Lumière."

Squinting your eyes, you raised your hand to silence her.

"Save me the telling off, Julie.", you had to take a deep breath to keep your cool. "I know my duties and do my service. Unlike others among us."

She sucked in a sharp breath. Anger flitted across her face but she wasn't stupid enough to shout at you in the open or say anything she might regret. In the end, you were the commander of the night watch and she was only the lieutenant of the day watch. The only one who served on this wall who was your equal in rank was Verso Dessendre.

So instead of riding herself deeper into the shit, she averted her eyes, folded her arms behind her back like a good soldier and lifted her chin.

You opened the log and flicked through a few pages. Nothing special as far as you could tell at first glance.

"So?", you asked. Report."

She crunched her nose. A hint of satisfaction travelled through your chest. You knew how much she hated being ordered around. Only with Verso did she ask how high when he told her to jump. Sometimes he didn't even have to and she just did it as if she thought it might impress him.

"The day was quiet.", she shrugged, still not looking at you. "Why are you late?"

Your fingertips itched to reprimand her but she wasn't your Lieutenant and in fact she was just following protocol by asking.

"There was something else to discuss.", you repeated.

"Then I should know about it."

"Something private."

She glanced over her shoulder at you.

"Duty is no place for that.", she replied snappishly. "Keep it at home."

Now you really wanted to get rid of her.

"Verso stopped me.", with a drippingly polite smile you met her eyes.

Immediately there was canopy, coupled with some childish hope.

"Verso is here?", she asked.

"Commander Dessendre to you, Julie.", you clicked your tongue. "Maybe he's already gone."

Before you could finish the sentence, she was on her way to the ladder.

Chapter Text

Ever since you could remember, you preferred the night to the day. In the shadow of the moon you could close your eyes and search for peace. Silver kissed your (S/C) skin while clouds of white lay over the stars.

At the latest hours of the night and the earliest hours of the day, it was so quiet that you could hear the sound of the sea. Lumière's harbour was not right next to the town, but a few miles away. There, the walls were smaller and the work less safe, which was why only the toughest sailors and madmen hung around there at night.

Most people with a clear mind lived in Lumière, behind the thick walls, to be protected by you until the day broke again. A cold wind caressed your cheeks. It was chilly, but you still hadn't taken your jacket out of the room. For a moment, you wanted to feel the world around you, to freeze.

Lost in thought, your gaze wandered over the main street. Lanterns lit up the night to show travellers the way in the dark. The thin line of dusty ground led up to the mountains, between them and disappeared out of sight. Snow covered the peaks.

As children, Verso and you had often snuck away, flying to the top together with Esquie to ski whenever his parents had said no. Sometimes Monoco and Noco had been there too.

The snowball fights still made you shiver. Once you had lost your way and ended up in a cave. That had been the day Verso had discovered that his magic came from the nature of fire. He had taken you in his arms and warmed you until Esquie had stopped being lazy and found you.

As if the being of unimaginable power had read your thoughts, a flash of lightning suddenly lit up the night. Frowning in confusion, you raised your eyes.

It didn't look like a thunderstorm and it didn't smell like rain either. So the lightning had to have a magical origin. And there were only one or two people besides you who could generate lightning with their chroma: Lune and Monoco when he used his strange collection of legs to transform himself into a creature that possessed electrical abilities.

As the thought crossed through your mind, it flashed again. Then once more. And suddenly the ground shook. At first it was only very gentle, barely noticeable. You only realised it because there was a bucket of water next to you. Small ripples formed on the smooth surface.

That can't be true, you muttered through gritted teeth.

Most of the time, when Gestral merchants appeared in Lumière's neighbourhood, it could only mean one thing: Trouble. Especially when Monoco and Noco came by.

With a flourish, you rose from the crate you had been sitting on and used your chroma to summon a weapon between your fingers. A spear formed from golden light, silver and metal, its point bearing the head of an axe.

The weapon was bigger than you, yet your fingers wrapped around the handle as if they had never done anything else, holding it as if it were a part of your body.

Small sparks of violet electricity danced across the surface. A familiar feeling of warmth tingled over your (S/C) skin. The hairs on your arms stood up.

Verso was born with a natural affinity for fire magic. You, on the other hand, were connected to the forces of the sky. Thunder and lightning.

You jumped light-footedly onto one of the battlements of the wall to let your gaze wander. Despite the lanterns, it was dark. Only a few shadows stirred around the silver light of the moon. And while you were combing the night, holding your breath and a fixed expression on your face, chaos suddenly broke out.

In the distance, where the mountains swallowed the road, three shapes suddenly chased out of the darkness. Their strangely shaped bodies were difficult to categorise from a distance, but you would have recognised the staff with the huge bell anywhere.

Monoco hurried along the road, while his old master Noco chased after him with his little legs as if his life depended on it. A mass floated above them, a creature that resembled a circus tent, its short arms and legs stretched out as if it wanted to lie in the wind.

Frowning, you squinted your eyes to see better. There was only one reason why Monoco would run like that. And the answer was not long in coming.

As soon as the three figures came closer, making themselves recognisable in the light of the lanterns, another creature appeared between the mountain pass. Its body seemed to be made of ice, huge and so heavy that it made the ground tremble. Every step stirred up dust. Ice remained where it touched the stony road.

The beast was so heavy that the shockwave reached the walls of Lumière. All at once, the night watch came to life. Heads lifted, along the battlements you could see the confused faces of your soldiers desperately trying to find you in the darkness.

"Tu blagues?!", you hissed with clenched teeth.

"Commander?", a voice called out.

Lightning flashed across your body. Electricity danced on your skin, licked across your cheek. The taste of iron spread on your tongue. Somehow it awoke excitement in you. It had been a while since you had fought a proper fight. The training sessions against Verso excluded.

"Tous ensemble!", you yelled across the wall for everyone to hear. "Stay back! I'll handle it."

Lightning danced around your feet. Their crackling filled the night and the light illuminated the darkness in a soft violet colour. It smelled of rain and an approaching storm.

As you started to jump, you could feel the power of your chroma spreading through your body. With a thunderous roar you rose into the air, feeling the wind sail around your ears as your fingers tightened around the spear. Purple lightning danced across the metal, twitching and crackling like a thousand voices.

"Monoco!", your voice was like a gathering storm in the night. "Get out of the way!"

Chapter Text

With a hiss and the sound of breaking ice, the blade of your spear dug into the Stalact's spiked back. Something between a scream and a growl erupted from its mouthless, pointed head. The creature lost its footing, skidded across the road while digging deep furrows.

A cloud of dust swirled up and swallowed the shadow along with you. One single breath was enough to make your lungs feel like they were about to be set on fire. A purple glow remained recognisable, accompanied by the crackle of electricity pouring from your fingertips.

Something in the back of your mind remained alert even as the creature came to a stop. The night was dead quiet. Only the soft gushing of the sea, miles away, remained audible.

"Woooo, mon ami!", purred a lazy voice. "That was so cooool. You're sooo strong. And elegant~!"

With a satisfied sound, the creature that had been hovering in the air dropped. Although he was huge and looked like he weighed a mountain, Esquie managed to land as if he were a tiny feather. The white mask with the golden spikes could not show any emotions, but he was very open with what he felt and communicated it.

Your brow furrowed and your spear still buried in the monster's neck, you let your eyes wander through the cloud of dust.

"Esquie! Monoco!", you called out, lightning flashed across your arms with every word.

"Excellent attack, my friend.", Monoco's familiar raspy voice reached your ears. "But we could have done it on our own."

Noco began to babble in the language of the gestrals, excited but also trying to explain why they had been running and that it really wasn't all that worrisome.

The ground shook again. This time, however, not because of anything heavy. Chroma filled the air. You could feel the power of magic.

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head. Lightning coursed through your veins. Something was wrong. It always was when a Gestral showed up. Especially this one in particular.

"Don't stop.", you pulled the spear from the monster's remains. "To the wall! Now!"

You hastily jumped towards the group while your body was enveloped in violet light. Electricity made the hairs all over your body stand up. Your (S/C) skin tingled.

The ground trembled again. Monoco swung his staff. The large cast iron bell made a powerful sound.

"We'll manage.", he started to do some tricks, dribbling across the floor with his wooden doll's feet.

Sighing with annoyance, you turned to Noco.

"Pack up your pupil and run to the wall.", you admonished him. "What have you brought here anyway?"

You glanced up at Esquie, gigantic and yet such a softie.

"Ooohh.", he sighed. "I don't know, mon ami. Everything out there wants to kill Monoco. He is very killable."

Rolling your eyes, you sighed.

"Of course...", you massaged the bridge of your nose with two fingers.

You were already suffering from a headache. It was only a matter of time before Verso and Monoco met again. The last time they almost blew up the harbour. Headache after headache.

But at that moment, it wasn't a priority.

Magic filled the ground like water fills the sea. It was so powerful that even the moon seemed to tremble. Esquie let out a worried sound and took a step back.

In Lumière, there were stories that were told to the children. He was one of the most powerful beings on the continent. But he was very lazy. And scatterbrained. At least he hadn't lost the stone that helped him fly.

"Hey, Esquie!", you let a little flash of lightning come up to him to get his attention.

"Hmmm?"

You turned the spear in your grip, letting the blade move across the ground. The metal was so sharp that it drew a notch into the ground. Just what it needed now. Lightning flashed around your legs.

"Take the two of them and fly to the wall.", you told him. "Tell the others to aid me from a distance."

"Hmmm.", Esquie knelt down so that the gestrals could climb onto your back.

"I'm not running away from a fight!", protested Monoco. "A nice, relaxing fight."

He pranced on the spot, all jittery and excited for the approaching bloodbath. The ground trembled one last time. There was tension in the air. Then all hell broke loose.

Noco was wiser than Monoco, jumped on Esquie and then disappeared with him in the air towards Lumière. Monoco stayed behind at your side. It was hard to tell whether you were happy or annoyed about that b it at least you didn't have to face the consequences all on your own.

"Do you at least have any idea what you've brought in?", lightning flashed around you, crawling across the ground.

Now you and Monoco were surrounded by a field of electricity. Violet light rose in small sparks. The cracking sound of an approaching thunderstorm battled the tremble of the earth.

"Fancy.", purred Monoco. "Do you think your lightning can give my bell wings?"

He wiggled the cast iron thing in the air, making it sound like wedding bells were ringing. Somehow the thought sent a shiver down your spine. Something inside you tightened.

Immediately your eyes travelled to your ring finger on the hand that was firmly holding the spear. There was no ring but it felt like there should have been one. Like someone had promised but had never followed up with it.

Or didn't have the chance to.

Clicking your tongue, you squinted your eyes and shook your head to get rid of the thoughts. A headache punched against the inside of your skull.

For a brief moment you felt like the world around you wasn't real, like nothing was and your mind only imagined, dreamed.

"Monoco.", you cleared your throat, your voice hoarse and your mind confused. "What have you dragged in?"

The gestral shrugged his wooden shoulders. Those creatures were like puppets, strange beings with bristles of hair and joints that connected wooden limbs.

And they loved to fight. So much so that they caused many on purpose. Either amongst themselves or others. And you always had to get caught in the middle thanks to Verso being friends with most of them.

The grumble approached. It felt like an army.

"Monoco!", you urged for an answer.

"Yes.", he replied.

You sucked in the air sharply.

"I hate you..."

Chapter Text

There were nights when you were proud to be commander of the night watch. And then there were nights like this when you wanted to drop dead.

Or have someone drop dead. Monoco, for example. Especially Monoco.

"Are you serious?!", screaming, you threw your spear into the air to summon lightning to scorch the ground.

With a loud crackle, they shattered the silence of the night and pierced the monsters, who were moving in a herd towards the walls of Lumière.

Wielding the bell and howling enthusiastically, Monoco mowed his way through their ranks while you tried to avoid him. The absolute chaos was nothing compared to what these idiots regularly dragged you to the front door.

"My! What lovely feet!", with these words, he lunged at one of the monsters and ripped its leg off the ground.

Dancing in the air, you hurled a bolt of lightning at a monster, almost tearing the helmet off its head. Electricity flowed through your veins. The power of the storm awoke in you.

Your hand reached out for the spear, gripped the handle and let a sickle move through the mass. Scorched ground and small flames remained. Beings burned while small lightning bolts danced across their bodies, eating further into their flesh until there was nothing left to consume.

"A fantastic fight!", Monoco shouted while stealing another leg.

"Can you stop gathering feet and help me?! Putain!", throwing yourself to the ground, you rolled to the side, dodging an arrow of fire and hacking through the air with your spear.

It sliced through a monster, spinning and cutting a swathe through more rows. In the sky, projectiles of golden light travelled through the clouds. They chased down the army like rain while you tried not to get killed by your own soldiers.

"Why are you having so little fun, mon ami?", asked Monoco, mowing down a row of monsters with his bell. "Verso would have fun now."

Whirling your spear around, you slashed a monster and jumped back.

"Verso would find the stupidest things funny with you!", you shouted back, gritting your teeth. "Now stop dawdling and help me!"

Again you threw your spear into the air. This time, lightning danced around the entire blade, violet light illuminated the night, kissing silver stars and the moon.

The veil of clouds opened up. Moon and stars stretched out their fingers towards the chroma that made your weapon vibrate. When your fingers touched the metal, the tension burst.

Sparks of violet light and small flashes of lightning poured into the night, drawing a spider's web in the darkness.

The power of your chroma coursed through your blood and made it sing. Holding your breath, you aimed into the mass as purple threads spun further and further through the night. Thunder shattered the stillness of the dark, tore the moon and stars apart.

Your fingers wrapped tighter around the spear. Electricity howled. And then you let it come crashing down to earth. The tip of the spear buried itself in the flesh of a monster. Screams rang in your ears as purple lightning streaked across the earth, claws digging deep into the dirt and turning the battlefield into a web of tension.

"Okay, I'm out!", Monoco skedaddled away as fast as he could before he could be struck down by your power.

Sweat shone on your forehead. You were still able to keep yourself in the air, but your body was coming closer to the ground and the storm you had summoned would not stop.

You could feel the electric tongues licking your face as you sank deeper and deeper. The silver light of the moon illuminated the darkness.

When your feet hit the ground again, the energy gathered under your soles. Power flooded through your body. Chroma returned to where it had come from only to be ejected again in a gigantic shockwave.

The battlefield froze. Time seemed to stand still at that moment. And the next moment, when you dared to breathe in again, the night came to life.

Small sparks of violet light floated in the air. The shadows had retreated to pay homage to the moon and the stars under a clear sky. Lumière and its walls lay there quietly while the sound of the sea echoed in the distance.

Everything seemed so unreal, too thrown out of proportion. Too artistic. Almost painted.

Dead monsters lined the main road, which had been burnt black by your lightning. It smelled of fire, mixed with iron and the rain that was about to fall. But there was still this whispering, this pulling in the back of your head. Eyes travelled over your neck.

Summoning your weapon of golden light, you turned on your heel and let the spear cut through the air. But this time, the woman of lightning and thunder was too slow.

Tortured and ensnared by flashes of violett, one of the chavelier managed to lift its huge heavy sword over its helmet. Your own magic made the metal crackle.

A twitch ran through your legs as you tried to back away. But out of reflex, you lifted up your hand to protect your face. The blade grazed the inner surface, cut through the fabric of your glove and buried itself in the ground with a loud bang that shook beneath your feet.

The force threw you back. Hard stone dug into your shoulder blades as you dragged across the road in a desperate attempt to regain your footing. A cloud of dust swallowed the night.

The ringing of a thousand bells filled your ears. And it crackled. As if a fire were devouring wood.

Breathing heavily, you remained lying on your back on the ground, your face covered in dirt and kissed by the light of the moon. A dull pain spread through your body. The feeling of blood dripped down your fingers as all sensation inside was engulfed by a burning sensation.

The night blurred before your eyes. Something inside you was waiting for another attack to follow. But nothing came.

"Commander!", voices were calling for you.

But you were so tired. So infinitely tired. As if you had slept so long that it had drained you. Yet you didn't want to wake up.

Not at any price.

"No...", you whispered. "Let me... dream just a little longer..."

Chapter Text

"Didn't you promise me?", asked a woman's voice in the darkness. "You said you would make it up to me. You wanted to pay me back. It's your job to protect him. No matter what the cost."

Your eyes flickered wearily under heavy lids. A shiver spread through your whole body, eating into your skin and bones, threatening to disintegrate you until there was nothing left of you but the shame you felt.

Your lips moved, silent and without the right words. You wanted to beg her for forgiveness. Or maybe you wanted to scream for help. It was so hard to say what was right and what was wrong.

But she was right about one thing: you wanted to protect him.

Who was he?

"Verso.", the sound of his name wrenched your eyes open.

You flinched as if awoken from a nightmare. A heavy bead fell from your forehead while the smell of clean sheets and alcohol plagued your nose. Disorientated, your eyes wandered over the ceiling of the room. It wasn't the hospital, you'd been there often enough to recognise the ceiling beams.

"Glad you woke up.", a familiar face bent over you with a teasing smile.

"Sciel.", frowning, you tried to get up in bed. "Don't you... have your off week?"

A loud gasp escaped your lips. You had rarely felt this kind of pain before, your whole upper body was sore and felt like mud.

"You'll be black and blue for the next few days.", Lune, Sciel's wife, rose from her desk at the other end of the room. "But you'll live."

Like her parents, she was one of Lumière's scholars. She was exceptionally clever and had dedicated her life to research to make every day in the city more efficient. She and Gustave ran their own faculty at the academy, which dealt with mechanical engineering and other testing. All things you had no idea about.

"Why am I here?", you palpated your ribs, then your shoulders and the rest of your upper body.

It hurt, but apart from the bandage around your hand, you thought you were uninjured. At least as far as possible.

"The hospital is overloaded and they wouldn't have helped you quickly enough.", Verso sat down on the edge of the bed, worried. "Besides, Lune is as good as any doctor."

He was still wearing the same suit as in the morning, but now he had a handprint-sized stain of blood on his shoulder.

"Hm... You're here too...", you mumbled and swung one leg out of bed.

You were still dressed in your uniform, which meant that Lune hadn't seen fit to do a full examination.

"He carried you here.", Lune smiled softly, resting her chin on her hand.

"Of course he did.", you wiped your face, sweaty and strangely warm. "I feel like I have a fever..."

"Your knight in shining armour~!", Sciel teased Verso with a grin. "You should thank him."

With a slight smile, you stood up, only to realise the next moment that your legs were weaker than expected. Like two stalks of cotton wool, they slipped away under your weight. You stumbled.

Verso jumped up, caught you at the right moment and as his hands wrapped around your waist, supporting you, your hand found his shoulder.

"Nice stain.", you said with a soft chuckle.

Your hand fitted perfectly on the spot, bloody and still a little wet, from every single finger to the size of your palm.

"That could have ended really badly.", he growled, his eyes fixed on you. "The fight."

You scrutinised the bandaged hand and turned it in all directions. The white fabric wasn't even red with blood.

"Just a scratch.", you looked over to Lune. "Right?"

With a smile and a shake of her head, she sighed.

"He's as dramatic as ever.", she confirmed.

Sciel chuckled.

"He only cares about you.", hands on hips, she tilted her head while her green eyes travelled over you. "If you wanted a holiday, you could have told me that instead of getting hurt. Would have been much easier."

With a smack of your tongue, you shook out your legs. There was still a tingling sensation in your feet.

"Injured?", you raised your hand for her to see. "It's just a scratch. I'll go straight back to work."

"Oh, no, you won't.", Verso pulled you closer to him. I'm going to take you home now.

"Pfft. And who's supposed to finish duty today? The night still got like four more hours."

"Sciel is here.", Lune pointed at her wife. "And as luck would have it, I know she has nothing planned."

Outraged, Sciel looked at the black-haired woman, mouth wide open and a look of the deepest kind of betrayal on her tanned face.

"Traitor!", she gasped, pointing at the small band of gold that shimmered on her ring finger. "You swore you would always be faithful to me. How can you push me into the fire on my week off?"

With a conspiratorial smile, Lune raised her eyebrows, the ink pooling under her eye.

"The battlefield is still fresh.", she purred.

Sciel rolled her eyes.

"And you want samples."

Lune held out a strangely shaped object that surely had some scientific use you didn't know about.

"Would you get me some?", she asked with her big, dark eyes. "Please, please."

Sciel sighed.

"Pretty please?", she asked.

"The prettiest."

Defeated, she took everything she needed to take samples from her and carefully stowed everything in her pockets.

"Oh, well.", Sciel clapped her hands. "So I'll go to work and you go home."

"It's really not that bad.", you protested.

Verso gave you a light slap on the shoulder. That alone sent a burning pain through your back. Your skin tightened under the touch. At that moment, you felt a bit like an apple with the flesh crushed under its red surface.

"Ouch!", you punched him in the chest.

"Come on.", all at once he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you out of the room.

Confused, you looked round for Lune and Sciel, but they just smiled and waved goodbye.

"A little help?", you asked. "Help!"

"Speedy recovery~!", Sciel waved goodbye.

"Don't be like that.", he turned round on the stairs. "Do you want me to carry you?"

You pulled a face.

"Why?"

He pointed at you from top to bottom.

"Because you have bruises everywhere. Besides, I don't believe Lune that nothing is broken. We should keep an eye on that."

"You're overreacting..."

Chapter Text

"Merde... My legs have seen better days...", you muttered at the bottom of the stairs.

The walk from Lune's office down to the main entrance of the faculty wasn't far and didn't have many steps. But with swollen legs and bones that all felt brittle, it was increasingly uncomfortable to move more than you had to.

Taking a deep breath, you looked up at the sky. The stars were still shining brightly, but the deep, dark blue was already beginning to turn paler. The lanterns were still lit. Some people were hanging around on the streets, either because they had to work early or went home too late.

"What time is it?", you asked.

Verso frowned. It was so easy to recognise when something was annoying him and at that moment it was your ignorance of the situation.

"Time to go home.", he said. "I'll take you."

He offered you a hand.

"I live on the other side of town, mon chou.", you said. "By the time we get there, it will be time to work again."

"You should take some days off. At least until you made a full recovery."

"It's just bruising. I'm fine."

"You skidded across the road. One can still see where you were lying, hole in the ground and everything."

"The attack wasn't that strong..."

Rolling his eyes, he threw his head back and sighed so loudly that it was almost like a frustrated cry. It was strange, there had been a time when this behaviour of his wouldn't have surprised you.

But you weren't children anymore and you hadn't been close enough for him to behave like that for some time.

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine.", you assured him, stretching despite the feeling of pain throbbing under your (S/C) skin. "I'll be back on my feet tomorrow."

With the trembling steps of a woman whose ego was more bruised than her body, you patted his shoulder and started to head into the direction of your home.

"I hate it when you behave like that.", he suddenly interrupted you.

Confused, you turned to look at him as he drew his thick, dark eyebrows together and wrinkles formed on his forehead. He looked frustrated, jaw tense and his breathing shallow.

If looks could have killed, you thought to yourself.

And yet it suited him to look like that. It was simply a part of him, so unforgivably Verso. In the end, the comparison didn't come from anywhere, that he and Gustave were the same men in different fonts.

You stared at each other like that for a moment. You allowed him to look like he wanted to scream at you, put his arms around your shoulders and shake you until it finally ended. Then you let your eyes fall shut.

"How am I behaving?", you finally asked.

A twitch chased across his face, dark shadows making him look even angrier than he probably already was. Yes, Verso was definitely a man who was capable of killing. But he would never have done anything to you. And you weren't afraid of him either, but rather of what he did to your innermost being.

"You're so unnecessarily stubborn.", he finally said, his voice a hoarse whisper, exhausted and tired. "And... I don't even know why. In the past, you would have asked me to take you home. Actually, no, we would have walked home without even saying anything about it. It was a given."

It seemed like a plea coming from his mouth. Something in your chest tightened. At the same time, your heart leapt.

"It's not that I don't want you at my place.", you couldn't even look at him when you said that because you both knew that was exactly what you wanted.

You used to live much closer to his parents' house and had stayed with them so often that they had given you your own room. Now you lived at the far end of Lumière, which made it almost impossible to see each other every day. And if you were honest with yourself, you had often tried to avoid him.

"(Y/N).", his voice was still so soft when he called you by your name. "I... don't know what happened either."

With a tired smile, you took a deep breath.

"We've grown up, Verso.", this time you looked him in the eye and it hurt like nothing else. "Sometimes that happens."

A pleading gleam appeared in his eyes.

"What? That best friends no longer..."

He didn't finish the sentence, but it wasn't necessary. There could have been so many endings to it, so many questions that could have been asked. But in the end, one deed was worth a thousand words. And you remembered exactly what he had done. With whom.

Granted, you were no longer the insecure teenager who hadn't dared to confess your feelings to him, but the feeling of betrayal still ran deep and kept eating into your flesh. The wound was opened again and again and new salt was poured in.

"You once said that there could be millions of people in Lumière and you would only choose me.", you whispered with a tired smile. "Always just me."

He squinted his eyes in pain and shook his head.

"I never wanted to..."

"But you did. You did. What should we do now, mon chou? Pretend it never happened? As if you hadn't broken your word and I'm not your second choice?"

"No.", he took a step towards you. "You were never a choice. You were the prerequisite."

His hand reached out and suddenly it was on your cheek. He gently stroked the tips over your maltreated (S/C) skin. The touch alone was like a balm. Heat coursed through your body like lightning. The beat of your heart hammered against the bones of your chest.

"(Y/N)...", his lips trembled. "Mon foudre. Please. There is no shame in admitting you need help. And I take no shame in admitting I made a mistake."

A mistake that almost cost us one another. You did not say these words aloud. It would have ruined the two of you.

A soft sigh slipped off your lips. At the end you stood defeated.

"Fine...", gently, you took his hand to remove it from your face. "Please take me home. I'm tired."

Chapter Text

Panting and wheezing, you pushed yourself up the stairs through the narrow corridor while Verso held his arms out behind you in case you fell. It had been a while since you had last hurt yourself on duty. Somehow that hurt your ego more than it actually hurt physically.

When you finally arrived at the door, you let your head fall against the cold wood with a sigh. A throbbing had spread through your body, your legs were weak and trembling.

"Come on.", Verso carefully slipped an arm under your legs, squatted down and lifted you up.

He was surprisingly strong, considering that his muscles were barely noticeable hidden under the layers of fabric of the suit.

Tired, you let your cheek fall against his black hair. Soft waves caressed your (S/C) skin. He had showered that morning, his hair still smelled of soap.

Wordlessly, he unlocked the door to your apartment, he still had the key you had given him when you moved in.

"That's for emergencies.", you mumbled.

Smirking, he pushed his way into the flat, threw the door shut with one foot and carried you to the bed.

"I would call this an emergency.", he replied as his fingers travelled over your legs.

The touch alone was both a blessing and a curse. It hurt yet at the same time left a soothing sensation. Your legs twitched, wanted to move closer into his touch, wanted to taste the gentleness some more.

A wave of heat chased through your body and for the hint of a second it felt like you were a teenager again, deeply in love with this idiot.

Perhaps you even were. But the two of you had missed your timing. And you would come crawling back on your knees just to be stabbed in the back again.

"You should sleep.", he got up again, went to the door and left his shoes by the cloakroom. "Everything will look better tomorrow."

Soft pillows nestled around your body, warmth seeped into your bones and soothed the feeling of flesh that felt like mush. Immediately there was that tiredness again that had plagued you since the beginning of the morning.

And the crackling of fire played in the back of your mind. Darkness fell over you while goose bumps spread all over his body. Suddenly everything felt cold.

"Verso...", you whispered.

"Hm?", his head appeared between the shadows.

The crackling became louder. The deeper you sank into sleep, the louder the fire became, the warmer it felt.

"It's burning...", you murmured. "I... dream of fire... so often lately..."

He caressed your cheek, his brow furrowed.

"You're sweating.", he fetched a wet cloth to wipe the sweat from your forehead. "Maybe you have a fever."

A tired chuckle escaped your lips.

"Please... don't go.", trembling with weakness, your fingers linked with his. "Stay here... just a little... longer."

When you opened your eyes again, the apartment was completely dark. Only a few threads of silver light filtered in through the windows and coloured the walls a soft purple. The air smelled fresh. It was cold.

Breathing in deeply, you stirred in the sheets. Someone had put a blanket over you and pushed it in so that no cold air could reach your maltreated body. Only your face was icy, your skin a little sticky with dried sweat. It felt as if your body was surrounded by clouds.

Yawning, you let your gaze wander. In the light of the moon, curled up on the couch, lay Verso. Eyes tightly shut, he breathed quietly to himself. Sometimes small sounds left his lips.

"Verso?", you whispered.

As if you had been crying out for him, he opened his eyes and raised his head.

"You're awake.", he stretched, this time dressed in a white shirt and black trousers.

"You changed your clothes.", you sat up carefully.

Your arms still felt a little swollen but better than before.

"I got home quickly yesterday.", he sat up too, rubbed his neck. "Packed for a few days."

He'd slept on your couch before and hated it. He used to try to sleep in your bed, at least when you didn't live so far away. Then he always complained that it made his neck stiff and that he could sleep better when you were lying next to him.

You looked around as if the world around you was strange, unknown. Almost not real. Yet it felt so real. You wanted it to be real.

"What time is it?"

"Not that late.", with a few steps he made his way to you, sat down on the long side of the bed and gently caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. "You slept for a long time."

You frowned.

"For how long?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Maybe a day? I thought you didn't want to wake up anymore."

He laughed, but the way he did it sounded forced and worried. His eyes travelled over your face, down your body and over the arms you had placed on the cool surface of the blanket.

"Are you all right?", he asked. "I mean... in general. You seem upset lately. Restless. It doesn't suit you."

Breathing in deeply, you close your eyes, feeling the cold on your face, the dampness of sweat.

"I don't know.", you wiped your face with both hands. "It's been... strange lately. I sleep badly. And hear things... Maybe it's all in my head."

"Maybe you work too much."

"Yeah... maybe."

Once again, silence spread between you even though there was so much to say. Sometimes you didn't know what to say first. And sometimes you feared that asking the wrong question could widen the gap between you.

He inhaled deeply, almost sighing. His shoulders slumped.

"I want you to take time off.", he finally said. "Just for a few days."

You chuckled.

"Do I have a choice?", your arms were already covered in dark spots and you could feel your legs aching just thinking about walking.

"Not really.", he gave you one of his wry smirks. "But... at least until the city festival is over."

"The city festival?"

"Please."

"That's a long time."

"I just want... we can go together. And dance. Get drunk. Just like back then. Mon foudre."

Something tightened in your chest. You used to dance a lot with each other. And each time it triggered a feeling of longing in you.

Chapter Text

Days dragged by, became a week, then two. You slept badly and when you did, you slept for a long time, so long that it felt like your body was trying to lose itself in your dreams.

Memories of fire crackled in your ears. Tears wet your lips with salt. Sometimes, when you woke up in the dark, drenched in sweat and with fear squeezing the air out of your lungs, it felt like reality was nothing more than a fragile image on the surface of a lake. Every little stone thrown into the water destroyed it.

Verso was there, every night and every day. He wiped your forehead dry with a cloth, whispered soothing words to you when you didn't know what was a lie and what was the truth.

Sometimes, just sometimes, when his voice could no longer help and you wished you could dissolve to escape it all, he would reach out to you. Then you leaned into his touch, the feeling of warmth emanating from him. You held each other in your arms, felt his body against yours, the way his chest moved with every breath, how the beating of his heart tried to match the rhythm of yours.

He smelled of tanned wood and pine needles. As often as he had repaired his piano himself, it was no wonder. His hair was still as soft as when you were children. But unlike then, now the hairs of his beard tickled the back of your neck when he dared to press his lips against the sensitive skin.

Maybe it was just his imagination, or just a delusion he felt in hours of tiredness, but you thought you heard him whispering whenever he held you.

"Fate can be against us as much as it wants.", he muttered, his voice barely a whisper, a faint memory. "But I will not let you go. Never again. I would have to die for that. Ma vie."

Everything inside you tightened. Pain overcame you. It was as if you had felt it before, tasted this despair on the tip of your tongue. And yet. You would have given anything to hear it again.

So you buried your face against his chest, dug your fingers into the back of his shirt and never let go.

What had happened?

"Cook something for me.", he asked as the first rays of sunlight made their way through the small balcony.

You had lain awake all night, he had caressed your back while you had pressed against him. Tired, you had to smile. The beating of his heart against your ear was soothing.

"Cook something for you?", you asked, rubbing your eyes. "Cook something for yourself. Lazy sod."

He smirked. Layers of pillows and blankets nestled against his body. Verso was handsome and had an elegant physique. He was also clever, charming in a quiet way. It was only when the tiredness slowly receded from your body that you began to feel shame. Many women in Lumière wished they could lie in his arms. But you did, as if it were a matter of course.

You carefully supported yourself on your arms. He still had his hand on your back. Only hesitantly, almost reluctantly, did he drop it. His fingers stretched out towards you for as long as possible until he finally had to let go. The spot turned cold, chasing goose bumps all over your body.

Your gazes met. Something in his eyes darkened, only for a sparkle to awaken in them. He gave you one of his loving smiles, gentle and so completely without ulterior motives, no teasing, no gloating. It just made him happy to see you, closer than you had been for a long time, completely ravaged by sleep and still a little disorientated.

There was a soft expression on your (S/C) face as you yawned. All of a sudden, Verso reached out and caressed your cheek. It was so unexpected that you frowned in surprise. At the same time, it seemed familiar. Like it's happened thousands of times even though you couldn't remember it.

"You can be pretty cute when you're not mad.", he smirked as the rough surface of his thumb stroked your cheek.

You stared at him.

"And you can't be an idiot when you're lying in my bed.", you replied.

Admittedly, it wasn't a good comeback and caused you more shame than triumph, but you weren't fully awake yet and hadn't expected to be confronted with his stupid remarks so early in the morning.

He thought for a moment, weighing up his options and the resulting consequences.

"Maybe I should lay in your bed more often then.", he finally said.

A shiver ran down your spine. The next moment, something tightened between your legs. Heat made your head glow.

"Don't get ahead of yourself.", you yawned tiredly again.

This time he leant forward, a challenging expression on his bearded face. Little black hairs were sticking out in all directions from his head. He looked at least as sleepy as you felt. Except that he hardly wasted a minute using the situation in his favour.

"We hadn't slept in the same bed for a long time.", his voice was still raspy from sleep.

Although he generally had a deep, raspy voice. Only when he wanted something from you, tried to persuade you to do something, did he disguise it.

"We haven't been children for a long time.", you let your face fall into your hands.

Suddenly you felt some pressure on the back of your head. Verso dropped his forehead against your head and sighed.

"I know...", remorse wavered in his voice. "But does everything have to change? Just... a little."

Lost in thought, you chewed on the inside of your cheek. Maybe he was right. Not everything had to change. On the other hand, everything had changed. And you would have been fine if things hadn't gone in a completely different direction than you would have liked.

"What should I cook?", you finally asked. "Do you still like ratatouille so much?"

He smiled. If you could have seen it, you would have realised how much it hurt him.

"Only if you cook it."

Chapter Text

Humming to yourself, you stood at the kitchen counter and cut the vegetables into small slices. Courgettes, garlic, aubergine and onions with thick slices of tomatoes and peppers. You arrange them neatly in a pretty pattern in a mould with a base greased with olive oil. Add dried spices and fresh basil.

As a young adult, you had often eaten ratatouille, it was cheap and you could make a lot from the ingredients to have leftovers for days. Now, a little older, you had lost all will to slave away in the kitchen for something you couldn't share with anyone.

The oven was already preheated. Warmth caressed your face as you put the tin in to bake. It felt strange to stand properly for the first time in a few days. Your feet were cold and when you moved your toes, the floor underneath felt curved.

Verso sat on a bar stool on the other side of the kitchen island and watched. He seemed dreamy, almost revelling in nostalgia.

"Don't you have anything to do?", playfully, you flicked two fingers against his forehead.

Torn from his thoughts, he winced slightly and blinked. Then he woke up from his dream and smiled.

"Why don't you ever cook?", he asked.

You shrugged your shoulders.

"It's not really worth the struggle for one person."

"But you cook well. It already smells great."

"I know. It's just not worth it."

Leaning back, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and thought for a moment. Now he seemed different from the days before, calmer, more content. You briefly wondered if it was because you had fled into his arms, just like back then.

Although that wasn't exactly the case. He had often hid with you, from thunderstorms or shadows in his room, when Aline allowed you to spend the night with them. After you learnt that your chroma had an affinity for lightning, you sometimes had chased him with it.

Children could be really cruel. The memory made you smile.

"I'd take the leftovers.", he finally said. "If you cook next time."

Snorting, you shook your head.

"To where? Home to your parents?", you asked, raising an eyebrow. "You know that your mother would feel that her honour had been violated."

He nodded in agreement.

"She's not a bad cook."

"But."

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye.

"You're just better.", Verso winked.

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head.

"Get out of my kitchen.", you shooed him away with one movement. "Play me a song instead. I want to listen to music."

With a sweeping movement, he slipped out of his seat and stretched his arms towards the ceiling. A gentle breeze blew through the open doors of the balcony, caressing his dark hair. The white streak seemed to sparkle like a piece of broken sunlight.

"What do you want to hear?", he summoned a piano out of golden light in the confines of your flat.

Carefully, he let his fingers wander over the keys, playing small notes until an uncertain melody emerged. Back in the day he hadn't been so hesitant. It didn't seem like him.

Lost in thought, you put your face in your hands and sighed as your gaze wandered out of the window. During the day, Lumière was not quite as calm as at night. People were moving through the streets, laughing and trading and arguing.

The town festival was not far away and most people spent their free time decorating the lanterns with white and red flowers. Banners were stretched and blue flags waved in the wind. The sky was blue and only a few small clouds appeared like scattered shreds of cotton wool.

Still waiting for your answer, Verso sat down at the piano and played a melody that sounded familiar to you.

"Didn't you always play that to Alicia?", you asked. "And Maelle?"

The twins were the latecomers to the Dessendre family; Verso had been a good fifteen years older than them when the unexpected good fortune had returned to his parents' home. And although they were twins, both with bright eyes and flaming red hair, they couldn't be more different.

Alicia was quiet, almost shy so that it cost her freedom. Maelle, on the other hand, was so hot-headed and stubborn that she sometimes forgot to pay attention to other people.

Even though he had never said it, the two were Verso's family favourites. Clea, his older sister and the eldest child in the Dessendre family, had already moved out by the time her little sisters were born. So you and Verso had taken over babysitting, working night shifts with feeding duty to relieve his parents.

That's why you knew this song. He had written it especially for them so that they could fall asleep. Most of the time it made him tired himself though.

He began to slowly sway to the music, reminiscing. Fingers wandered over the keys of the piano, always finding new places where they could create new sounds.

Sometimes you envied him for how easy it seemed to come to him. And then you remembered how he had hated practising with his mother when she had tied him to the instrument for hours so that one day he would be good enough to play concerts in the town hall.

Only when he had looked at you, realised how much you enjoyed listening to him play, had he never stopped. And he didn't do it now either.

"I've never written a song for you before.", he said all at once.

His rough voice was like a wave in the ocean of music.

"Hm?", you tilted your head dreamily and smiled.

He couldn't see it, but Verso could feel it, felt it crawling up his back to the nape of his neck, where it breathed a gentle kiss between his hair.

"A piece of music.", he repeated his thought. "I wrote something for Clea. For Maelle and Alicia."

"And your parents.", you reminded him.

"Even for Gustave. Lune. Sciel. Monoco and Esquie too. And Lumière.", chuckling, he shook his head. "But never for you."

You hesitated. Somehow this conversation felt like it wasn't about a song at all.

"Maybe it's time.", you whispered.

His fingers froze on the keys.

"Maybe it really is.", he glanced over his shoulder at you. "The food smells fantastic."

Chapter Text

The day of the town festival arrived and Verso was still in your apartment. On the one hand, you didn't mind, but on the other, you started to feel a little sorry for him.

It must have been a good two weeks that he had spent on your sofa and if there was one thing Verso Dessendre couldn't stand, it was a bad mattress. Or worse still: no mattress at all.

Smiling quietly to yourself, you ran cold water into the sink and began to wash your face. Most of the blemishes and bruises had already healed. You could only feel the swelling on your legs still.

It would have been better to take a bath to look passable for the party, but at that moment you hardly felt like it and could only roll your eyes at the thought of having to wash your hair.

"We've run out of bread.", Verso suddenly announced from the kitchen. "And stuff to put on."

Small ripples sloshed around in the sink as you put your fingers in. The touch was cold and sent goose bumps all over your body.

"You're going to eat the last shirt off my back.", you shouted at him. "How can you eat this much and not be twice your size?"

He laughed.

"Then we still don't have any bread.", he replied. "We should go and have a bite before it's time to meet up."

He stuck his head through the door into the bathroom. His black hair stood on end in wild waves. He hadn't shaved for a while and had only cleaned the edges. It made him resemble his father in a very uncanny, younger way.

"You're just looking for an excuse to go to Angelique's for dinner again."

He smirked.

"Weird thing to complain about. Don't be stingy now. My treat."

"You're the most financially irresponsible thirty-something year old I know."

He let out a huff.

"First off: I'm thirty-three. You should know since we've known each other for a majority of those years."

"You old fart..."

"Be nice to your elders.", he clenched his teeth in a theatrically threatening manner. "Ma petit crotte."

"I'm finding it.", you chuckled. "Seriously though, you need to stop eating there so often. I'm sure Angelique considers you part of her annual income by now."

He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest, and let out a deep, amused chuckle. The sound was so musical that it reminded you of a cello. His broad shoulders moved, pulling the white fabric of his shirt apart.

As if your eyes had been searching for nothing else, you found yourself looking down and getting caught by the little hairs on his chest. For far too long, you stared.

In that brief moment, you were a teenager again and head over heels in love with him. Except that Verso was now an adult man, fully grown and aged particularly favourably. As a teenager you had had sweet thoughts, imagining what it would be like to marry your best friend and start a family so that you could have a perfect little life like his parents.

Now you had nothing holy on your mind when you looked at him. Not even anything decent.

"Do you like the view?", he asked suddenly.

Heat coursed through your head. Torn from your thoughts, you blinked. When your eyes met, he gave you another of his charming smirks.

"I just remembered that Sophie must have finished with my clothes by now.", it was a bad lie but good enough not to have to give him the satisfaction of actually looking as good as he felt.

Not that he didn't have the right. He could just be a handful if he wanted to be. And that happened especially often when he realised he could tease you with it.

"Do you think she made you a dress?", he asked, tilting his head to one side. "I'd like that."

"For her sake I hope not...", taking a deep breath, you drained the water in the sink and dried your face and hands. "Alors. Here's the plan: I'll go to Sophie's to get the things and you get yourself something to eat. I'll meet you at the party."

Thinking, he pursed his lips.

"And what are you eating?"

You pushed past him out of the door.

"I'll find something."

"I could get you something. What are you in the mood for?"

You slipped on your shoes and were almost out of the flat when you turned round again.

"You don't have to!", you shouted back. "But thank you. And remember to lock up when you leave!"

With these words, you pulled the door shut and hurried down the stairs to the street. Verso stayed behind alone, his arms still crossed in front of his chest and a slightly amused expression on his face as he shook his head.

"And you're running away from me again...", he sighed, looking around the place. "Mon foudre."

It wasn't the first time you did something like that and it wouldn't be the last. Nevertheless, he was glad that you had let yourself be persuaded to spend two weeks in bed. And if he was honest with himself, he hadn't expected you to allow him to sleep on the sofa.

As children, you usually shared his bed or built a little cave underneath it out of pillows and blankets to hide from storms and shadows. When you got older, he had persuaded you to sleep with him in one of the many guest beds that were plentiful in his parents' house. It had been bigger than his own and so he had been able to lie next to you without it being uncomfortable.

Now that he had slept near you again for a long time, he had to accept how much he missed it. Verso had always slept better when you were close. And as a grown man, there was nothing wrong with wishing he could sleep in the same bed with you again.

At least that's what he told himself. Sighing deeply, he let his head hang low and laughed quietly at himself.

"It really is time.", he said to himself.

Chapter Text

Completely lost in thought, you wandered around Lumière a few times before your legs carried you back to the tailor shop.

Even though this morning had not been anything special you couldn't help but feel like your heart was racing. And your thoughts driftet off every time you crossed a man on the streets.

Why did Verso have to grow up and turn out to be exactly your type?

As if she had been waiting for you, Sophie greeted you at the door while she was still engaged in a conversation with Monoco.

"And you think you can get me something like this?", she put her hands on her hips. "It's really important, you hear. It needs to be able to cause miracles."

To match the Lumière City Festival, she was wearing a pretty white dress with embroidered red roses that day. She had braided red ribbons into her short black hair and decorated them with gold jewellery.

Looking at her you expected Gustave to show up in his formal blue suit, quite clearly the best piece he had in his wardrobe. Together, they would make the perfect couple that everyone in Lumière knew them as.

The Gestral folded his arms in front of his strangely proportioned body.

"Please.", he sounded offended. "I can get anything. But I won't sell you feet. Those are mine."

You rolled your eyes at the words.

"Does Noco know about this?", you asked with a sarcastic expression.

As if on cue, the little creature with the brush head appeared and chased around your feet.

"You're healthy!", he babbled excitedly. "Just right. We've found something for you."

Monoco gestured for him to be quiet.

"Not now, son, I'm really busy selling Sophie something."

Noco made some noises you couldn't understand. Monoco, on the other hand, reacted as if he would rather not have heard it.

"(Y/N)!", Sophie held out her hands to you, caring as she was. "How are you feeling? Verso told us a little bit. And the rumours... Sciel says half the Night's Watch is afraid you'll soon no longer be commander."

Snorting with amusement, you took her hands to give them a calming squeeze. She held onto you, testing the warmth of your skin as if she needed to make sure it was really you.

"Don't worry.", you assured her. "You know Verso. Little drama queen."

Monoco grumbled in agreement.

"Hmm yes, he is indeed.", he agreed. "Good to see you didn't mind our little fight."

"Little?", you pointed down at yourself, frowning. "I was out of action for a fortnight. Besides, that was a whole army. How did you get them all angry with you?"

Noco started to babble again, something about how the other gestral was pretty good at irritating others around him, but Monoco shooed him away.

"Don't listen to him. He's exaggerating."

"Is he?", Sophie raised an eyebrow.

"I would have come to see you but Verso told me not to.", the gestral shrugged. "I would have showed you my feet to lift the spirits."

"It was better that way. Just imagine all the commotion you would have caused.", Sophie turned back to you. "Speaking of the devil, we haven't seen Verso for quite some time either. His mother dropped by to ask if Gustave knew where he is."

"Two weeks to be exact.", Monoco noted.

"Hmm.", rolling your eyes, you sighed. "He slept on the couch. At my place... and helped me get well again."

Sophie's eyes widened. She quickly glanced in all directions before pulling you by the arm into her shop. Monoco and Noco wanted to follow, but she slammed the door in their faces.

"Sorry guys, this is a conversation for women only.", she shooed them away before turning back to you. "Have a seat. You have to tell me everything."

The broad grin on her face made you shiver a little. At the same time, you could think what she wanted to hear. It had long been an unspoken secret that the circles of friends you shared with Verso were all out to make you a couple. Sciel and Lune had even made bets on how long it would take.

"Unfortunately I have to disappoint you.", you took her out of her fantasy. "He only slept on the sofa and kept an eye on my recovery."

Almost indignantly, Sophie handed you a cup of scalding hot tea.

"Only slept on the sofa?", she asked. "If he wanted to look after you, he didn't have to be in your flat for two weeks straight."

"I told him the same thing.", you sipped the tea, something you'd never tasted before, probably because Monoco had brought it. "But he insisted."

Silence spread as Sophie sipped her tea in anticipation.

"And?", she finally asked.

You shrugged your shoulders.

"Nothing and. We talked, I cooked for him. He played me something on the piano."

She hastily raised her hands.

"Stop, stop, stop.", very slowly, she emptied her cup in one big gulp and hurried to get the whole kettle off the cooker. "He played you something on the piano?"

You frowned in confusion.

"Sophie, he's a pianist at the theatre in his spare time. It's nothing special that he plays."

"Yes, it is. I mean, he used to play just for you, so to speak, and then he just stopped. I mean he didn't just stop, we all know why he stopped, but what I'm saying is it's special that he started playing for YOU again."

"It's really not that big a deal, Soph..."

"Did he offer or did you ask him to okay something?"

You thought for a minute.

"I scolded him to get out of my kitchen and told him to play me something instead of being a bother."

She sighed.

"That does sound so much like you...", rubbing her forehead, she put the cup down. "And like Verso. Always the little puppy that obeys your command."

"You make me sound cruel..."

"You are sometimes.", she smiled in a nostalgic way, as if she knew something you didn't. "And especially to Verso. Ever since..."

"He fucked Julie. I know...", that statement left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Chapter Text

"You two should talk it out. Like, really. Sit down and just talk and listen to each other for a few hours.", Sophie chased around you like a whirlwind while she made the final touches to the clothes you had commissioned from her. "I mean... you were such a pretty couple."

You winced as she accidentally stuck a needle in your leg.

"We were never together, Soph...", you mumbled, rubbing the sore spot.

With two pins clamped between her lips, she knelt in front of you to inspect the length.

"Which I personally find strange. I mean, you grew up together, you were thick as thieves. Don't childhood friends end up together most times? Gustave and I certainly did.", she tamed the pins out of her mouth. "Now that I think about it, I can't remember ever catching you alone. It was always with Verso by your side. Or him really close by."

"I'm alone here right now.", you looked down at her, your brow furrowed.

She waved it off with a laugh.

"You know what I mean.", she tucked the trouser legs a little shorter although the length was perfect. "You practically lived with his parents."

"It was better than living with the foster families. Not that they were bad. I just didn't feel... as comfortable around them as I did with his family. Besides, it wasn't so complicated then.", you huffed at the words. "Family is complicated, Verso's favourite saying."

You laughed, but it didn't just sound bitter, it tasted bitter too.

"Hmm.", lost in thought, she stared at the dark fabric as if it could tell her what she wanted to hear. "Why did Aline and Renoir never adopt you?"

You've often asked yourself the same question.

As a kid, it had made you feel all sloppy, like you weren't good enough to be a part of their perfect little family. By now you were quite happy about that because it would have been a lot more awkward to not only fall in love with your best friend but also have him as a stepbrother.

"The two of them did what they could.", you said. "And I mean it. Without reproach."

Sophie stood up briskly. Everything happened so quickly that you flinched in surprise. She put her hands on her hips and stared at you for a moment.

"You know, we all know that you say a lot of things to protect yourself.", she smiled lovingly, just like the sister you never had. "But do you even know what you're trying to protect yourself from?"

She left you alone with this question and disappeared into a side room to rummage for something from her many boxes and collections. Eventually she returned with her arms full. Guilt and thoughts as heavy as wet sand weighed on your shoulders.

"He doesn't want me, Sophie.", that was the first time you've uttered that thought, that fear. "He proved it to all of us. Especially to himself."

She spread everything out on the floor in front of you, opened boxes and pulled out fabric, only to scatter small sample scraps everywhere.

"People sometimes make the wrong choices.", she brushed it off.

"We're talking about Verso."

"Lots of wrong choices. Fair

You huffed. It felt relieving to have a good old gossip and shit talking session with her again. But it was painful to admit that you were the subject of it.

You and the man you felt undeniably connected to.

Triumphantly, she pulled a sample of fabric from the depths of her accumulations over the years and held it in front of your face.

"At least it matches your eyes.", she thought aloud. "But back to the subject. Verso is an idiot, we know that. Even Sciel says so, and everyone knows that when our sunshine says it, it's true. But that doesn't mean you have to avoid him. Idiots can be lovable. Merde, look at me! I have the most lovable idiot in all of Lumière."

She gestured towards the ring on her finger, the very promise that Gustave had made her a few years ago. At the sight you couldn't help but look at your own fingers. Once more it felt like there was something supposed to be but wasn't.

Something tightened in your chest.

"Sophie...", with every word the subject became harder to bear.

At the same time, you knew there was no point in continuing to deny something that everyone could see was true. It was much more work to fight it than to simply acknowledge the truth.

"You look for excuses.", she disappeared again to get another box. "Yes, he messed up a bit, but this is something that can be fixed. If you want to."

"I'm not going to chase after him.", you finally said. "If he doesn't want me, I don't have to offer myself. I don't have to have any hopes. Let Julie take him if she wants to."

Silence spread. The tension was so clear in the air that it could have been cut with scissors.

Sophie put the last box down on her desk. It was smaller, obviously not as heavy and less battered than the boxes she kept her samples and sketches in. This was packaging for something she had sewn.

And you could guess what it was.

Her eyes travelled around the room. Suddenly she seemed sad, the light dimmer and her smile heavier. Wordlessly, she lifted the lid, put the paper aside and looked at the fabric underneath.

It was the most beautiful shade of your favourite colour. And she knew it.

"I don't want to sound like an old woman. Or his family. Or Verso himself.", she carefully lifted the piece out of the box, letting all the layers spread out, creating flowing waves. "Everything used to be so beautiful. So harmonious. And then you were just gone. Nobody knew where you were. And when you came back, it was different... you were... I don't know."

"Sophie.", her name was heavy in your throat as you tried to remember what she was talking about.

But there was only emptiness.

"You were everything to him, (Y/N). I'm not asking you to forgive what you can't forgive. Still, you have to understand that no one missed you like Verso. He had everything and suddenly he had nothing. Maybe... he just needed something to fill the void. Just until you're back."

Your eyes travelled over the dress she was holding out to you. A smile played around her lips, full of hope and anticipation.

"It's beautiful.", you let your fingers dance over the fabric.

"Just this once.", she asked.

Chapter Text

"Look at you.", Sophie clapped her hands enthusiastically. "Maybe some more jewellery?"

Turning round in all directions, you examined the dress she had made for you. It was beautiful, so beautiful that you forgot how little you actually wore this kind of clothes. The fabric was soft against your skin and flowed perfectly around your body. It was perhaps the best thing she had ever made for you.

It felt strange to admit it but you felt beautiful. When you spent most of your time in uniform, there were few opportunities to dress up after duty. Celebrations like this were an annual speciality.

Even then, you rarely took advantage of it because there were women who were much more beautiful. And had caught Verso's attention. You didn't want to disgrace yourself in this category too.

"I think we're running late.", you mumbled, your eyes still glued to the reflection.

Crawling out from behind her desk, Sophie hurried to your side, her hands full with sparkly delicacies.

"I know.", she held some jewellery closer to your neck and ears. "Which one do you want? Come on, choose something quickly. I really want to show them off."

"Then you should wear them.", you looked at the beautiful craftsmanship.

Even if it didn't necessarily occur naturally, Gustave was quite talented at creating things with his prosthetic arm. Sophie had persuaded him to take up a hobby that benefited her as well, so from time to time he made beautiful, intricate pieces of jewellery from the precious stones and metals that the gestral merchants brought to Lumière.

These items were no exception, formed into shapes of flowers and wings. Some details reminded you of the nevrons that roamed the continent.

"Hm?", she looked up at you excitedly. "I think that fits better."

"It's nice.", you agreed.

"Do you want it?"

A sigh slipped from your lips. Shoulders slurped. It was nice to get excited about something like this. At the same time you did not want to invest so much into it.

What if disappointment struck again?

"I don't know, Soph.", your gaze returned to your reflection, hands wandering over the layers of the dress. "Somehow..."

Her brow furrowed, she stared at you.

"Yes, I know what you mean.", she grabbed your hands to squeeze them. "You're not shining."

"Trousers might be better."

She laughed.

"Absolutely not. But you should take a shower before we start.", she pulled you away from the mirror and towards the small stairs that led up to her and Gustave's apartment. "Be quick. We can dry you with some chroma magic."

Admitting defeat, you let her shoo you up the stairs and accepted your fate. Besides, she wasn't entirely wrong. You looked like a mess. And if there was a special day when you were wearing such a beautiful dress, then you wanted to look as good as possible.

For yourself.

The shower worked wonders and when you came back downstairs with your hair magically dry and dressed in your new dress, she was already waiting for you. With a broad smile, Sophie held out a set of jewellery to you.

"I think this will fit perfectly.", she chirped. "Just trust me."

Smirking, you shook your head as you sighed softly.

"When do I not do that?", you let her put the necklace around your neck.

"Today it doesn't matter what happened, okay? Just have fun. Get drunk. Dance.", she gave you a teasing nudge. "And it would be good if you get laid. I can tell it's been a while."

At these words, your cheeks began to glow. She wasn't wrong. Then again, as much as you loved her it was none of her business.

"Sophie...", you pressed out between clenched teeth.

She laughed.

"C'mon now, we're running late.", she grabbed your hand to rush out the door.

"Very on brand for you, though, isn't it?", you huffed.

Lumière was a city like no other, probably also because it was the only city inhabited by humans on the continent. Nevertheless, the inhabitants managed to go all out once a year when it came to celebrating properly.

Barrels of the best wines lined the streets while blue, red and white banners stretched from house to house. Red and white roses grew from every flower pot, every flower bed and from the black steel lanterns.

The sky was already turning a slightly reddish colour as you and Sophie, along with other people, made your way through the crowded streets. They had set up tables in front of the doors, sitting together with food and wine while others filled the city with music.

This year your group had decided to go to the centre of town where the big bands were playing and there was a dance floor. Not that you couldn't meet up to dance that way, but the atmosphere was just different.

"We should have had a drink beforehand.", Sophie mumbled as she squeezed between a group of people waiting outside a shop. "Just a little pregaming."

"Then I wouldn't be able to walk now.", you replied with a laugh.

She snorted.

"You're wearing flat shoes. Don't make a fuss."

Thinking, you looked at your feet. As always, you wore black leather shoes. They were functional and went well with your uniform. But they just weren't worthy of the dress you were wearing. It really would have been better if you had had something better to hand.

"There's Lune!", Sophie waved her hand excitedly in the air and pulled you along.

"You're late.", the black-haired mage complained.

"Business as usual.", you smirked. "We still had something to do."

"But now we're here and we can celebrate!", Sophie chirped full of excitement. "Where are the others?"

"What do you think?", Lune smiled softly, moving her fingers in a way that was quite mesmerising to witness.

"Also late.", you assumed. "Or already drunk as a skunk."

Closing her eyes, her eyebrows rose as she let out a sigh.

"I left Sciel with them.", she said.

"Then all three of them are drunk off their asses.", Sophie gritted her teeth. "Merde, and I wanted to be drunk before Gustave."

"Does that even matter?", you asked quietly. "You'll end up pouncing on each other anyway."

"They don't have to be drunk for that.", Lune replied dryly.

"Neither do you and Sciel."

Chapter Text

The laughter could already be heard before Lune had led you out of the side alley. Music filled the large square in the heart of Lumière. People were dancing. Around the stage, terraces and cafés were open so that everyone could find a seat at one of the small black metal tables.

Sciel, your lieutenant and beloved wife of Lune, was so taken with the atmosphere that she poured a rain of black and white cards over the crowd with her chroma. She had also put on something pretty for the day, a purple trouser suit and gold bracelets along with the signature strings of colours around her left arm.

"Mon coeur!", she shouted when her eyes fell onto her wife and jumped into Lune's arms. "Hello mes amies!"

Prepared for her wife's emotional outburst, Lune raised her arms and caught her without a sweat. Even though they didn't look like it, Sciel was a bit shorter than Lune. Lune, on the other hand, manages to lift far more than one would expect at first glance.

"How much have you had to drink?", she asked.

Sciel laughed, strands of her brown hair hanging in her tanned forehead. The freckles all over her face seemed to glow like little ladybugs.

"Just a little~!", she chirped and covered her wife's cheeks with kisses. "I've been waiting for youuuu~!"

"You'll have a headache tomorrow.", Lune tugged a stray strand behind Sciel's ear.

"And you won't be able to walk tomorrow.", Sciel whispered back.

"We're here too...", you announced through clenched teeth.

"By the way.", Sophie could hardly stifle her laughter.

Sciel hugged her wife tightly.

"I know.", she chuckled. "And I also know who's waiting for youuuuu."

The smile on her face turned into a broad grin, eloped by shadows and a kind of aura that was both frightening and full of mischief. She knew something you didn't.

And that usually didn't mean anything good.

"We should look for the men.", Lune patted her wife's head as if she were a small child. "And we'll get you some water."

"Awww...", Sciel sighed. "But I want wine..."

"You've had enough of that already.", Sophie muttered. "And it's not even dark yet."

You gave her a teasing nudge towards the big square.

"You're just mad that you're still sober.", you laughed.

With a playful smile, she rolled her eyes, but didn't deny it. You yourself wanted to get drunk as quickly as possible. Preferably before you ran into Verso. Maybe it was also because of the dress you were wearing. It wasn't often that you wore something like that and perhaps it also hindered some of your self-confidence.

And then there was something else. You let your eyes wander vigilantly through the crowd as you made your way to the centre. Between dresses and colourful hats, people danced in full costume. Even a few gestrals had taken the opportunity to celebrate and had travelled from the village.

You searched amongst the hustle and bustle, hoping not to find it. Not to find them.

Tension spread through your shoulders. Your heart began to race. A small shiver crawled down your back. All the small hairs on your neck stood up straight.

"Hey.", Sophie gave you a gentle push. "Everything all right?"

Torn from your thoughts, you blinked a few times. A fleeting shadow flitted through the crowd but you missed who it was. All at once, the music returned. It grew louder and the laughter soothed the pounding of your heart.

"I'm fine.", you smiled.

"Don't worry so much, okay?", she grabbed your hand and squeezed it lightly. "Today is just for fun. And if it is, it's just the four of us having fun."

Sciel turned round on the spot so quickly that the ribbons in her hair hit Lune's face.

"Oooh.", she grinned widely. "Are we going to leave the men behind and get drunk at the horse fountain in the harbour district?"

Lune wiped her wife's hair out of her face.

"The last time we did that was when we were teenagers.", she crossed her arms in front of her chest with a smirk. "But not a bad idea... That's where the wine reserves are hidden."

"As if they won't be needed here soon.", Sophie remarked sarcastically. "This lot drinks wine like water."

"Sophie.", you pushed your way through a group of people. "YOU drink wine like water."

"Pfft.", she pulled a face. "Accusations."

Laughing, you push forward as a group to the terrace, which offered a perfect view of the large square where the main stage was set up. A band had been playing music there since the beginning of the afternoon. People were dancing together, exuberantly, hand in hand.

Children laughed as they chased their dogs between the lanes of tables. Sophie stood on tiptoe, searching. Petals of red and white roses danced with the wind.

"There's our table!", she threw a hand in the air to wave at Gustave. "I hope you've saved us something to drink."

Chuckling, he raised a bottle of wine demonstratively. She enthusiastically threw herself around his neck and kissed him.

"You're a lifesaver.", Sciel took the bottle from him to uncork it.

"Aaaand I'll take that.", you snatched it from her hand, put it to your lips and gulped down two big sips.

Sophie gasped indignantly.

"Unfair!", she shouted. "Give me some too. I want some too."

With a wink, you handed her the bottle.

"You two are like children.", amused Lune crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"We have to make up time.", you argued.

"You shouldn't stress yourselves.", Gustave took another bottle from under the table and sat down. "I haven't had many opportunities either."

"But more than we had.", Sophie grumbled as she put the now half-empty bottle down on the table to sit next to him.

Lune helped Sciel find the chair so that she didn't end up on the ground before she joined him. Resting one hand on the back of Sophie's chair, you stopped and let your eyes wander again.

"I'm almost afraid to ask...", you huffed. "But where's the other idiot?"

Chapter Text

Music filled the night as the lights of the lanterns came on and spread over the festival like fireflies. There was still loud laughter and dancing. The bands took turns on stage.

As the evening progressed, there were fewer and fewer children to be seen. Instead, the adults became wilder, more careless and increasingly more drunk to a point where everything was worth a laugh.

Your head was already feeling light and your cheeks warm as you returned from the dance floor with Sophie and Sciel, completely out of breath, to knock back more bottles.

Gustave was engrossed in a conversation with Lune about mechanisms and technique when Sophie closed his mouth with a drunken kiss and sprawled on his lap.

Lune, cheeks red from the wine, grinned broadly, grabbed Sciel and kissed her.

"Wow, I'm a fifth wheel...", you laughed, draining the rest of a bottle of wine.

Sciel giggled.

"If you want, we won't leave you hanging.", she winked, barely able to stay on her feet without swaying.

Her wife was right, knowing Sciel, she would suffer the headache of her life the next morning. Giggling, you looked at Lune, who gave you a look that could have killed.

"I'll pass.", you fended her off with your hands up. "Sciel's not my type anyway."

Attacked, she gasped.

"I'm everyone's type!", she protested.

"But only my wife.", Lune gave her a kiss on the cheek. "We should take you home."

"But I don't want to yet..."

"You're done."

"Finally a good suggestion.", sighed Sophie, her arms around Gustave. "My feet hurt."

"Then we'll take you home.", Gustave breathed a kiss to her cheek before he remembered that you still existed. "How are things with you?"

Half drunk and half lost in thought, you let your eyes wander over the crowd. The numbers had thinned out, most people had gone home or, unlike Sciel, had accepted that they'd had enough to drink. Still, the atmosphere was fantastic and it didn't feel empty.

Surely there were still a few hours left before this party came to an end.

"I'm confident I'll find someone else from the night watch to have a drink with.", you said with a smile and shrugged your shoulders. "I don't want to go to sleep tonight."

Raising an eyebrow, Lune put her arm around her wife.

"I'm pretty sure it's already tomorrow.", she said. "But we shan't stand in your way."

"Oui!" Sciel cheered. "Go and find someone to dance with! And to get di-!"

Lune put a hand over her mouth before she could scream it at the top of her lungs.

"Are you sure you want to stay alone?", Sophie grabbed your face with both hands, her eyes dilated with wine and her cheeks rosy. "You can sleep at ours if it's too far to walk home."

Your eyes wandered to Gustave, who shook his head behind her back, almost begging. A grin twitched at your lips. You knew exactly what he had in mind for tonight. And you also knew that Sophie wouldn't object to giving it to him. So you didn't want to be an obstacle.

"I'll be fine.", you kissed her cheek. "Besides, I need to check on the idiot to make sure he gets home safely."

"Are you prepared to pay the costs if you find him?", Gustave asked with a grin.

The group had a laugh. The year before, Verso had caused considerable damage to some lampposts and shop windows when he had tried to prove to Monoco that he could still beat him in a duel. While being drunk off his ass.

The result had been costly and the shopkeepers had banned him from approaching the houses for a whole year.

"Only someone whose family has too much money does that...", you growled at the memory.

"I think Verso would have been like that without the money as well...", Sophie thought.

"Stupid?", you pulled a face with a sigh.

"You said that."

You huffed.

"I did. Now. Go home.", you shooed them away. "All of you!"

"Aye, aye!", Sciel saluted you. "I love you, commander~!"

"I'll ignore that.", you said.

"You better!", Lune shouted back. "See you around."

"See ya!"

"And get home safely!", Sophie added.

"Promise!", you retuned. "Now go! And good luck, Gustave!"

A knowing smile on his lips, he waved his goodbye, probably while silently offering you all the thanks he had in him, before disappearing with the others in a side alley.

Now you were left alone, a half-opened bottle of wine in your hand and all the possibilities in the world open to you.

There was still no sign of Verso and although you had said you would stay behind to check on him you couldn't help but look for other faces you knew. Verso was a grown man and could take care of himself. And if fate wanted him to, he would show himself. It was always like that and probably always would be. If you and Verso were close to each other, you were destined to find each other.

"Lucien!", you shouted enthusiastically into the crowd as a man of colour in a purple suit caught your eye.

"Commander?", Lucien threw his arms in the air, almost hitting a woman in his group. "Commander!"

"Careful!", she grumbled, raised her head and then looked at you. "Commander! We've missed you so much!"

Laughing, you climbed down to them over the balustrade of the terrace.

"I missed you too.", you hugged them both. "Lucien! Catherine! Mes amis!"

The two of them put their arms around you.

"Tell us you'll still be our commander!", Catherine begged. "I can't listen anymore to Sciel forgetting something all day... I can only remember so much myself!"

"And she's always so spontaneous...", Lucien cried out. "No sense for the protocol. No sense of routine! The routine, Commander! The books are all mixed up! Everything is a mess!"

Fuelled by the wine in your veins and amused by the stories about your lieutenant, you laughed out loud. At that moment, life couldn't have been more peaceful and your heart couldn't have been lighter.

"Let work be work for today.", you swayed to the beat of the music. "Let's dance. And drink!"

"We have wine!", Lucien held up a bottle.

"And I know where they've hidden a barrel!", Catherine cheered.

Chapter Text

"Urgh!", with a sickening sound Lucien bent over a pile of crates, completely drunk, and emptied the entire contents of his stomach behind them.

Admittedly, apart from wine and some bread there wasn't much in there anyway, but it was enough to make it clear that a limit had been reached and his body refused to go any further.

"That's our cue.", Catherine patted his back. "Time for bed."

With an amused grin, you leaned against a wall, the green neck of a bottle pressed to your lips. The world danced before your eyes. Light mingled with shadows as the stars flickered with every movement of your body.

Everything felt light. As if you could dance and nothing would have any meaning. You didn't want to leave yet. Still not. The cool stone pressed into your back. Sophie's dress clung to your body like hands.

"Safe journey home.", with a kick you pushed yourself off the wall and staggered away with a wave.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?", Catherine called after you.

"I'm fine.", you replied. "I really am."

This time it wasn't even a lie. For a long time you had felt like you were being crushed under a weight during the day. And the nightmares came at night. But at that moment, under the tent of stars, with wine in your stomach and music in your ears, you felt light.

Carefree.

Humming quietly to yourself, you wandered through the small alleyways near the dance floor, taking a sip from the bottle every now and then and watching the rest of the people from afar as they enjoyed the last hours of the night.

Lumière was generally a quiet place on the continent, not least because the night watch and the day watch ensured that nothing came too close to the walls around the clock. Even now there was an emergency garrison holding the fort.

But nothing was like this annual event of the city festival. You would have liked it to go on forever. You took another sip of the wine, revelling in your thoughts. In that second you were so carefree that you didn't even notice how a man came staggering out of the dark alley from behind.

He approached with uncertain steps, his head hanging low while soft noises dripped off his heavy tongue. Your gaze travelled over your shoulder. But too late. All at once you collided, the weight of his body, no longer fully controllable under the influence of alcohol, knocked you to the ground.

"Merde!", you cursed as the bottle shattered on the ground and the rest of the wine seeped away between the grooves of the cobblestones. "Putain de merde! My alcohol! You stupid bastard!"

Angrily, you grabbed a fistful of dark hair and yanked up the man's head, which had landed in your lap, chuckling softly.

Gritting your teeth, you were ready to throw all the swear words in your vocabulary at him when two bright eyes appeared, glassy from drinking and the approaching tiredness of being up all day.

"Ah...", with an eye roll you sighed. "You're my stupid bastard."

Grinning broadly, Verso dropped his face back into your lap with a laugh and exhaled deeply. The warmth of the air seeped through the silky fabric of your dress and reached your thighs, caressing them with invisible fingers. Something twitched briefly between your legs.

"Pardon me, mademoiselle.", he awkwardly got to his feet again, one hand propped against the wall. "I'm looking for someone... wasn't paying attention..."

Exhaling deeply, you wiped the dirt off your dress.

"It's okay.", you took his face in both hands so he would look at you. "Merde, you look like shit. How much did you have? Where were you anyways?"

With a playful smile on his lips, he lifted a finger in the air.

"Little secret.", he said in an irresistibly charming tone.

Heat coursed through your head, only to creep down your neck to your back in a cold shiver. Even drunk, he still looked far too good. Carefully, he took your hand from his cheek and breathed a kiss on the back of it.

"Thanks for the help...", he had to exhale briefly. "But the rest of my night... belongs to a very special woman."

With that, he released himself from your grip and stumbled towards the stage lights, obviously looking for someone.

Julie, it occur to you.

Suddenly, the influence of the alcohol faded. Instead, the world now seemed darker, wetter. The cold of the night fell over you.

Verso had made it to the end of the alley but had to lean against the wall once more. Maybe you would have been the spoilsport, but you would have done anything to have at least a fragment of him for yourself that night.

"I think you've had enough, mon chou.", you called out to him. "Come on, let's go."

Suddenly he froze, seemed to be thinking. When his head turned and your eyes met, his gaze was as clear as in the early morning. Slowly he turned round, looked you up and down as if he didn't know what he was seeing.

"Mon foudre.", he whispered, his voice hoarse from the wine, then frowned the next moment. "You're... wearing a dress..."

A shiver made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You immediately felt uncomfortable. Although that wasn't the right word for it. Taking a deep breath, you averted your eyes. You were embarrassed that he saw you like this. Somehow the dress felt less glamorous now.

With firm steps, he approached you, not hesitating to leave the light of the stage at his back.

"Sometimes miracles happen.", you joked. "Sophie talked me into it... actually I'm not even sure why I said yes... Ha... it's... I don't know. It was stupid..."

You still didn't dare look at him.

"You are so beautiful.", suddenly his hand slid under your chin, gently forcing you to look him in the eye. "Merde... you are... you tell me I wasted all this time... and missed seeing you dance in this?"

His thumb gently traced your bottom lip.

Chapter Text

"Putain... mon foudre. You are so beautiful.", he repeated in a way as if he were admiring something he was seeing for the very first time. "Such a sight... in this dress..."

Something sparkled in the bright colourlessness of his eyes. Surprise, perhaps. Perhaps admiration. Whatever it was, he didn't look away, gripping your chin again as you averted your gaze so he could lead you back to him after all.

He took another step closer. Now he was so close that you had to lift your head to look him in the face. The tip of your nose brushed against the hairs of his bearded chin, soft and smelling of scented oil.

Verso was a good but taller than you, his shoulders casting a shadow across the ground, offering protection from gazes that weren't worthy of the sight of you.

"You're drunk.", you said with a shy smile, wanting to take a step back. "Let's go-!"

But as you moved, your foot caught on something, maybe even on yourself. You stumbled. Out of reflex, he put an arm around your waist, pulling you so close that you raised your hands to catch hold of something. In this case, it was the neckline of his shirt. Verso's heartbeat pressed into the palm, hasty yet steady.

You could feel his chest move and fall as he breathed. Your eyes met. He didn't even blink, his lips just slightly parted as he stared at you in awe.

"You're just so...", he cut himself off, did not manage to put into words what was on his mind and shook his head.

Instead, his eyes began to wander, first over your face, resting on your lips for just a moment too long. Then they moved on, almost as if he was entranced, down your neck all the way to where your collar bones showed over the deep neckline that Sophie had tailored.

The beating of your heart was up in your throat as he leaned down a little, strands of his dark hair falling into his face.

"Mon chou.", you smiled but it was rather hesitant and not at all as confident as you had felt all night long. "You're drunk."

He smirked his usually crooked smirk. But this time was different. It was soft, almost dreamy in a way he his eyes remained glued to your (S/C) skin.

"So are you.", he breathed, his voice hoarse and trembling with a kind of impatience you hadn't sensed in him for a long time. "So... it's alright... isn't it? Just... one time. Just once."

It was almost as if he was begging for something, praying for a god that didn't exist. Desperation made his breath tremble.

He smelled of wine and a little salt from sweat, mixed with a cologne you recognised from one of his performances at the opera house.

The arm that held you close to him wandered down, his hand pressed into the small of your back only for his other hand to wander down your side. Fingers buried inside your thigh, giving it a gentle yet firm squeeze.

The height difference between the two of you was so severe that you needed to lift your leg a little for him to get a good grip. His fingers were quite long, just right for a pianist.

"Verso!", you gasped as your back pressed against the cold brick wall.

Verso looked down on you. He seemed to dwell in the feeling of your fingers entangled in his shirt. Bright eyes watched your chest rise and fall as you tried to adjust to the sudden cold that embraced your body.

His lips hovered over yours, warm breath caressing your cheeks. Swallowing hard, you managed to lift your head just high enough for your forehead to fall against his.

Slick as he was he had used the opportunity to push himself between your legs. You could feel the pressure that his knee caused against your middle as he slightly lifted you to your tiptoes.

You sucked in a sharp breath. Heat raged on your cheeks while the alcohol made it hard to form a thought. Or maybe it was just the sight of his face, so close to yours as it had never been before.

"Verso.", you spoke his name softly out of fear your voice could give in. "You're drunk. We should go home."

He smiled, chuckled even.

"We are, aren't we?", all of a sudden he leaned down a little.

Swallowing hard, you let your eyes fall shut and waited. But instead of your mouth his lips found one of your collarbones to breathe a kiss on it. The hairs of his beard tickled your (S/C) skin.

It made your breath shiver.

"Forgive me.", Verso whispered, pushing himself so close to your body that even the last bit of space was closed.

Now you were trapped between him and the wall, kind of held on your tiptoes because of his knee between your legs while also having your fingers buried in his shirt.

Taking a deep breath you let your head fall to the side. Soft, black waves welcomed him. His hair smelled of shampoo, something like pine needles and smoked wood.

"It's alright.", you huffed.

He sighed, the warmth of his breath chasing a shiver down your spine. And a flinch through your legs.

"It's not... is it?", this time he placed a kiss on your neck. "I wanted this. I wanted to spent time with you... instead I got drunk..."

"It's alright. I did too."

"I promised."

Something inside your chest pulled together.

"So did I.", your hand found the back of his head to caress his hair gently. "I promised... a long time ago. We promised each other to never be separated... and I left. I'm sorry."

"Why?", his voice sounded weak.

"I... don't know. I don't remember.", tears burned in the corners of your eyes. "I wish I could tell you. But I don't remember."

Slowly, Verso lifted his head off your shoulder. Your eyes met once more. This time there was so much determination visible on his face.

"If it ever happens again...", he did not dare say it.

"It won't.", you shook your head. "I... don't know why it happened but it won't happen again. I promise. If you can believe me one last time... I promise."

He shook his head.

"I can't loose you again.", he whispered. "Not without knowing how it feels like."

"Mon chou. Verso. I promise-!", you couldn't finish this sentence.

All of a sudden his lips sealed yours.

Chapter Text

A deep groan made his throat quiver as he was finally allowed to taste your lips. Hungrily he pressed his on yours, taking your breath away while his hand found your cheek to hold you close.

Surprised, you gasped into his mouth. He swallowed the sound, took it in and exhaled shakily. Cautiously but not at all hesitant, his mouth opened, the tip of his tongue running over the soft curve of your lips.

Your eyes flickered, the excitement making your heart beat faster before the lids fell shut with a soft sigh and you finally leaned into the kiss. As if he was starving, his tongue darted into your mouth, playing with yours to find every last flavour you dared to give.

Your fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt. Breathless, you let him press himself deeper into you, his warm body pushing yours against the cold wall. It elicited a gasp from you.

Aroused by the sound, Verso interrupted the kiss. He looked at you with tired, misty eyes, struggling to breathe. His lips were coated with a thin film of shiny saliva, swollen from the wild kiss.

Still, he didn't seem satisfied. Instead, something had awoken in the darkness of his eyes.

"Mon foudre.", his voice was hoarse but firm as he spoke. "(Y/N)."

Your name from his mouth sent a lightning bolt through your whole body. You felt every part of your existence respond to his call, your skin twitching under his fingers and your breath catching in your throat as your eyes met.

In that moment, Verso didn't seem like a man, but a wild animal that had been wandering in the wilderness for weeks, desperate for something to devour.

The thought made heat flare up in your head. All at once your ears were warm and you wondered if he could see how helpless you were at his mercy.

"Say something.", he demanded. "I beg you. Just one word."

He still held you trapped between him and the wall, one knee bent between your legs. The pressure of it made your middle throb. Ashamed, you had to admit that this position alone was enough to get you wet. But you would never have told him that.

Thoughts raced through your head, looking for a way out of this awkward situation.

But was that even something you wanted?

For a brief moment, you let your gaze wander to where the lights of the party were still shining and soft music was playing. It seemed miles away. People weren't paying attention to you and you were pressed against a wall in a dark alley full of shadows.

Alone.

The beat of your heart calmed down. Instead, the flesh between your legs began to swell with excitement. Hardened nipples brushed against the delicate fabric of your bra. You could feel it dripping.

When you looked at him again, you smiled. Your gaze was clouded by lust and your mind willing to leave the consequences to yourself for tomorrow.

"Yes.", you breathed.

There was everything he needed. A single word. Before you could even realise the extent of that answer, his lips were on yours again. Hungrily, he began to claim the inside of your mouth, so impatiently that some saliva dripped down your chin.

The feeling gave you goose bumps all over your body. Hands began to roam along your sides, playing with the delicate layers of your dress, pushing it higher and higher, over your ankles, then your lower legs until a cold wind caressed your thighs.

The heat that raged between your legs drove away the shivering trembling. Instead, the goose bumps grew and made your nipples harden.

Again, he had to pull back so as not to suffocate from his desire for you. Breathing heavily, Verso turned his attention to your neck and began to leave a trail of kisses, deeper and deeper until he finally reached your collarbone. The hairs of his beard felt simultaneously scratchy and ticklish.

Lost in the touch of his lips, you let your head fall against the wall, eyes closed and sighed softly. You didn't notice that he didn't return to your mouth but kept sinking down, kissing your cleavage, the covered torso, your stomach until he finally got down on his knees in front of you.

He was still holding up the hem of your dress, but hadn't pushed it up enough to make his intention completely clear. On his knees, he was just tall enough to look at your crotch.

Now he leaned forward, buried his bearded face between your fabric-covered thighs and sighed. The warmth of his breath made you quiver.

"Verso...", you whispered.

Slowly, agonisingly slowly, he lifted his gaze, his head still pressed against your body, and looked up at you with eyes heavy with lust. His lips were slightly parted.

"(Y/N).", he swallowed hard, his fingers pressed into the soft skin of your hips as if he had to hold on to them to know what was real and what was a product of his own imagination.

In the dim light of the lanterns, he looked almost pathetic as he knelt before you, worshipping a goddess that did not exist, hadn't answered his prayers before.

Nevertheless, the thought was enough to make you sigh softly. He had only needed one word and yet he was now waiting for another. Or a commandment he could follow. Tentatively, you reached down to him and took his face in your hand. Your thumb caressed through the hair on his cheek.

"I wouldn't have taken you for a man who kneels for anyone.", you joked.

Pressing himself into your palm, he smiled only to sigh in a kind of way that felt relieving even to you.

"I would crawl for you.", he said, again kissing the spot just above your crotch and sending a feeling of electricity through your veins. "Kill... die..."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"It's enough... if you live with me.", you said. "Just this once... this one life."

"I would give you my eternity if I had one."

Chapter Text

Verso delicately pushed the last layers of fabric of your dress over your hips and exposed your panties. Cold night wind mingled with his warm breath on your skin.

Shivering as you inhaled, you caressed his cheek, withdrew your hand and let your head fall back against the brick wall.

"Be my eternity.", you whispered to the stars. "Verso... even if nothing comes after."

Inhaling deeply, he let his eyes fall shut and buried his face between your legs. A deep sigh made his throat quiver, seeping into your swollen flesh and filling your core with warmth.

Teasingly, he pressed the bridge of his nose between your folds. The fabric of your panties was already completely soaked. You could feel his lips opening and pressing into the soft flesh, impatiently searching for your taste.

Holding your breath, you waited patiently until he had covered the insides of your thighs with kisses, testing how rough you allowed him to be with little nibbles. It didn't hurt, but it sent goose bumps all over your body.

Impatience began to sprout. Both inside your mind and between your legs. It was difficult to wait for something you had fantasised about oh so many times.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Verso let two fingers wander under the fabric and pushed it aside to lick across the folds with the tip of his tongue.

Wetness and your flavour filled his mouth. A deep growl vibrated in his throat. Impatiently, he moved closer, pressing his face further between your legs.

Inhaling sharply, you let your head fall back and closed your eyes to lose yourself in the sensation of his tongue. Verso savoured the moment, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you pinned against the wall exactly where he wanted you.

Breathing heavily, he tilted his head and pressed his tongue against the dripping, swollen flesh, slightly teasing the bundle of nerves that was your clit.

He was surprisingly skilful at what he did, knew how to use the rough surface to coax little noises out of you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, grabbing a fistful and tugging gently.

He let go of your swollen folds and exhaled with a gasp. The warmth of his breath sent a twitch through your centre, further up into your chest where your heart skipped a beat.

Looking up at you with misty eyes, dark with lust and shadows he smiled. Shame made your cheeks glow. You couldn't look at him, made you feel ashamed for dwelling in this feeling of ecstasy.

"Don't look away.", he pleaded in a hoarse voice. "I want to see you."

Still keeping eye contact, he let his tongue wander over your clit, licking his lips and swallowing everything your dripping middle gave him. With a deep breath, he kissed the inside of your thigh again, nibbling on the flinching flesh.

"Verso...", you breathed his name as he slipped his tongue between your folds again.

This time he tried to go as deep as he could, playing with your entrance and letting the tip penetrate. Each time he put his mouth around your clit, sucking, he became greedier, more impatient.

It was as if he was starving, as if you were the first meal he tasted in weeks. The little hairs of his beard tickled the insides of your thighs as he rubbed himself against your legs again and again, trying to restrain his own impatience.

He moaned desperately into your wetness, his eyes rolling back as he lost himself in your flavour. Holding onto the wall with one hand, you looked down at him. The heat of his breath and the vibration of his panting made your core tremble.

Your middle flinched, swollen flesh dripped with a wetness you hadn't felt in years. Or ever. Now that you thought about it this was a reaction of your body after years of empty fantasies.

You were falling apart with his face between your legs, threatening to fall onto him, knees weak. But the way he sighed while teasing your dripping folds it seemed he wouldn't mind the extra weight on him.

A soft moan slipped through your lips. Verso's ears picked it up, chased a bolt of lightning through his veins and managed to make his blood boil.

In return he sucked on the swollen flesh, gulped up everything he could get only to feed the greed of years of waiting that was surfacing in this moment.

"Verso.", squeezing your eyes shut you pressed the back of your head against the cold wall and arched your hips into his face.

Fingers dug into the back of his skull, causing him to sigh into your core, making your clit flinch. Your inner walls reacted to him, pulled together and dripped to offer him some more of your juices.

Verso took everything you gave him, greedy and almost choking while he forgot to catch his breath. His passion for you, the greed to taste more, send shivers down your spine.

Sucking in a sharp breath you began to pant, pressed his face closer between your legs, savoured the pressure that started to build up in your innermost.

You could feel how much of a mess you would make on his face. He probably wouldn't even mind. Small drops of your lust ran down the inner sides of your thighs, mingled with his saliva.

"Verso...", you had to grit your teeth. "I'm..."

One last time he parted from you, his lips covered by a shiny layer of your lust, breathing heavily and his cheeks as red as the wine he was drunk on. His fingers remained between your legs, deeply pumping into you.

"Let me hear you.", he breathed in a hoarse voice, his cheek pressed to your stomach and smiling softly.

His thumb found your clit, drawing circles while the other two fingers pumped into you in a quick, gentle rhythm. The tension between your legs grew, became unbearable.

"Verso!", with his name on your lips you came undone around his fingers, making a hot mess all over his sleeve while he kept pumping.

Trembling and with weak legs you slid down the wall. Meanwhile Verso did his best to extend the length of your height until the heavy breathing turned into panting and shaky legs.

"Mon vie...", he kissed your forehead as you sunk into his arms, cheeks glowing and your body on fire. "I waited so long for this... merde..."

His gaze wandered down between his own legs. He was rock hard.

Chapter Text

Still disoriented by the dwelling feeling of satisfaction that enthralled your body you let your head fall into Verso's shoulder and took a trembling breath.

With a soft chuckle your hand wandered between his legs to give his rock hard cock a firm squeeze. A groan made his throat vibrate. His eyes fell shut. It was only then that you realised how well equipped he was, large enough to fill out the palm of your hand.

Taking a deep breath he let his forehead fall against your hair and let a deep groan he heard. His pelvis pushed up towards your hand, silently demanding another squeeze.

Or more.

"Mon amour.", his words were a little stretched but he was less drunk than it had seemed before.

And after the orgasm of a lifetime you felt stone cold sober all at once.

"You talk rubbish.", chuckling, you let your hand wander up his chest, stopping at the small cutout of his shirt to play with the black chest hair that grew out of it. "You're drunk."

He kissed your cheek, then your neck.

"When will you finally take my word for it?", he sighed, tired and all of a sudden desperate for some comfort. "I want this. I've always wanted this..."

The heart inside your chest jumped.

"We... should get out of the cold.", still a little shaky on your legs you got back to your feet and pulled him with you. "Let's go home."

"Home...", he sighed. "Together?"

Your eyes met.

"We don't have a home together.", you chuckled, softly caressing his cheek.

The small, dark hairs of his beard were sticky and all messed up by the last traces of your lust. Letting his eyes fall shut, Verso turned his head to place a kiss in the palm of your hand.

"Spend the night.", he asked. "Please."

Letting a sigh be heard, you grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged Verso out of the alley, away from the last people and the fading music of the festival. They didn't need to see either of you in the state you were both in.

Still a little wobbly on his feet and a dumb smile on his face he let himself be pulled along. Almost like a puppy. You could feel the weight of his gaze pushing down into the back of your neck. It chased goosebumps down your spine.

At the same time heat made your cheeks feel like they were on fire. It wasn't shame that kept you from looking back at him but perhaps an unknown kind of shyness he had triggered.

This had not been your first rodeo, not been the dumbest or most risky thing you had ever done but for the love of everything it had been so satisfying, so elevating.

And if you were completely honest with yourself you wanted to feel this kind of ecstasy again. Verso was pretty skilled with his tongue, he knew what he did, obviously. After all he had always been a flirt.

And yet. You didn't want to come across as desperate even though you were already fantasising about sitting on his face again. Or perhaps sitting on something else.

The silence of night had fallen over Lumière's streets. No one was around no more, much to your luck. It meant less eye wittinesses and therefore less rumours the morning after.

Darkness slumbered behind closed curtains. Only the soft gushing of water from fountains rivalled the song of the wind.

As the two of you passed a small town square, Verso stopped and had to grab a hold of the edge of a fountain. His cheeks were bright red while the look in his eye was one that was hard to read.

With a slight groan he leaned over the edge of the fountain and snatched a hand full of water to rub all over his face. Small droplets caught in the hair of his beard, catching the sparks from the lanterns.

Your eyes met, he grinned at you and swayed slightly on his feet. This was a sight that reminded you a little of the two of you as teenagers.

"Time to go to bed.", you held out a hand.

Without hesitation, he took it, intertwined your fingers and pulled you close. Surprised, you stumbled towards him, your hands finding his chest to rest on. The beat of his heart pressed into your palm.

He smiled again. The wine was still clouding his mind a little, but Verso knew what he was doing when he pressed his lips to yours and claimed another kiss.

Inhaling deeply, you let your eyes fall shut and leaned into the feel of his lips. Your flavour still lingered on his tongue. Growling, he pressed himself into you.

His hands found your hips to close the last bit of space between you. His body nestled against yours as you let yourself fall. It was strange but in that moment you felt safe.

"Come with me.", he whispered against your lips.

"Your mother will be thrilled.", teasingly, you pinched his nose.

He smirked his crooked, boyish smirk. People who did not know him could have confused it as charming but as someone who did know him, you knew this was just his way of fooling someone.

"We can climb through the window.", he planted kisses on your neck. "Besides, the house is big enough. We'll remain undetected... Please..."

His warm breath caressed the sensitive skin on your neck. It sent goose bumps down your spine. Shivering, you exhaled. You didn't want to be alone that night.

Not to be without him.

"It's not a house, Verso.", you chuckled. "It's a mansion. A family mansion."

He smiled.

"It could be your Family mansion.", he purred. "Or ours. At some point."

"Do your sisters know of that plan?", you raised one eyebrow. "I'm sure Clea would be delighted to tell you why she won't let you have it."

The two of you chuckled.

"Weeeell...", he smiled. "Maybe Simon can talk her into building their own mansion."

You rolled your eyes.

"Let's go.", you kissed him again.

Chapter Text

It had been a while since you had last climbed through one of the windows of the Dessendre family mansion. And the climb hadn't got any easier since then.

Verso's room was on the second floor, right next to that of his older sister Clea. Luckily for you, she had long since moved out and couldn't throw a pillow out of the window this time to get Verso off the trellis where his mother's beloved roses grew.

Puffing and snorting, you had to stifle your silly giggles as he stumbled headlong through the window into his room, remaining spread out on the floor. You followed, landing right on top of him.

"Hello beautiful woman~!", he grinned drunkenly, his cheeks red from the wine and perhaps because his mind was drifting.

As you lay on top of him with your hands on his chest, he had a nice view into the neckline of your dress. Perhaps Sophie had made it a little deeper than you had hoped for it to be. And now it came back to bite.

"You're an idiot.", teasingly you pressed a hand into his face.

As you did so, you slipped back. Now you were sitting directly on his crotch. A soft sound escaped his lips, something between a groan and a laugh. Something hard pressed against the inside of your legs. His hands found your hips, gently but firmly forcing you to sit on him with all your weight.

"Ma foudre.", breathless, he buried his face against your neck.

His body nestled into yours. He was so warm that you thought you could be set on fire by him. The small hairs on his chest tickled you a little. His shirt was such a mess in that moment, some buttons torn off and the white cotton fabric falling loosely over his shoulders.

Your fingers travelled over the exposed skin on his shoulders, pale and covered in small scars, some from training with you and others from small fights with Monoco.

Fingernails scratched over the marks, clinging to him as he sat up with you in his lap, one arm around your waist and his free hand exploring your thigh. The pressure between your legs became more pronounced. He grew.

"(Y/N).", his voice trembling, his breathing heavy as he nibbled gently on your neck. "Merde... I want to... I- I don't know what I want... I can't think..."

Breathing in shakily, you pulled him close to you. The tip of his nose travelled over the skin between your breasts. The warm breath sent goose bumps all over your body.

Everything inside you cried out to be touched by him more, to be closer to him than was humanly possible. His hand slipped under your dress. Your middle twitched, already dripping wet again.

"Verso...", you whispered.

He looked up at you, kissed you in a way as if he was desperately trying not to go insane. Impatiently, he thrust his hips towards you, wanting to feel more of the pleasant pressure of you on his cock.

This time you couldn't denied him this wish and let yourself sink onto him with all your weight. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, he exhaled deeply, then inhaled again, trembling as he held you by the hips.

Now it was you who was getting impatient. You slid back and forth in his lap, rubbing your dripping wet flesh against his now completely hard length. It was like you were grinding against a piece of wood.

"Give me a minute.", he pleaded hoarsely, still unable to look at you. "I just... I won't be able to last long... like this... ma foudre."

But you couldn't wait a minute longer. Without thinking about what the consequence might be for both of you, you slipped a hand between his legs and gave it a good squeeze. Clenching his teeth, he pressed into the palm of your hand, growling.

The fastening of his trousers opened without any problems and even when you closed your fingers around it, no protests were heard. Quite the opposite.

At that moment, Verso seemed like a hormone-driven teenager again. The little noises that kept escaping him sparked small flames inside you that quickly spread into a fire. Your head was glowing with heat and it was dripping between your legs.

You took some of your saliva to wet his length with. The tip was already so swollen that it sent a shiver down your spine when you positioned it at your entrance.

"(Y/N)...", he groaned again.

Lovingly teasing, you gently bit his lower lip and pulled on it.

"Have you ever wanted to do it?", you asked him, your voice clouded with lust. "Be honest. Have you ever wanted to fuck me?"

Impatiently holding his breath, he had to hold back from thrusting his hips upwards. The tip of his cock was already pushing your dripping folds apart. Warm, teased flesh greeted him.

"You know the answer.", he pleaded, eyes fixed on you, silently whimpering for mercy. "Ma foudre. Please..."

You smiled.

"Say it.", you breathed against his lips. "I want to hear it from you. Verso."

Groaning, he let his eyes fall shut.

"I want you.", he finally confessed. "I've always wanted you. I wanted you when we were teenagers, I wanted you every day since we started duty together. I wanted you when you were gone and I wanted you when you returned. Putain! I. Need. You."

All at once, he pushed you down on him. Gasping, you threw your head back as his rock-hard cock pushed into you. Burning warm flesh welcomed him, dripping walls chocked his length.

A surprisingly loud moan could be heard from him as Verso finally got what he had probably been wanting all evening. Your middle throbbed. You couldn't suppress the urge to grind against him.

It made your clit react. The little bundle of nerves got irritated as it rubbed against his skin. Still sensitive from the orgasm before, you flinched, your inner walls tightening.

He gritted his teeth in surprise. Fingers clawed at your hips.

"Don't move.", he begged, struggling for breath. "Merde... I can't stand it."

He buried his face between your tits. Your legs were already trembling. You could hardly think straight. It was strange but finally having sex with him, finally knowing how his cock felt inside you was enough for the first time. Your lust dripped out, messing up his trousers and sticking to the insides of your thighs as you grind your hips into him.

He still tried to get you to slow down but quickly fell for the warmth of your flesh and the way your walls closed around his length.

"Ma foudre.", he sighed. "I can't..!"

Sighing deeply and letting your eyes roll back into your head, you let yourself get lost in the heat of the moment.

"Verso!", you moaned his name.

Through clenched teeth, he gasped. And all at once your bodies melted into one big hot mess, ruining both your clothes.

Chapter Text

Tired, you opened your eyes a crack. It was still dark, the stars shining into the room through the large windows. Sleepily, you turned your head.

Verso was lying next to you on his stomach in bed, his upper body exposed and one arm draped over you. Snoring softly, he smacked his lips in his sleep as you stroked his tousled hair.

Carefully, you pushed your legs out of bed and went in search of one of the many bathrooms in the estate.

You stumble along the long corridor on tiptoe. On the way, you stopped and bathed in the silver light of the moon. Verso's white shirt hung off your shoulders. It still smelled of his perfume and some wine.

It was only at this moment that you realised how well you had slept. In his arms, the nightmares were black and no fire seemed to haunt you. It was refreshing, safe. Breathing in deeply, you closed your eyes.

Silence.

"So you found your way back. Quicker than I expected.", a feeling of ice crawled through your veins. "And you managed to find him as well. Congratulations."

As if struck by lightning, you pulled Verso's shirt tighter around you, hiding your nakedness and wrapping your arms around your body. Fortunately, the hem was long enough to reach over your thighs.

"Aline.", ashamed, you tried to hide from Verso's mother. "Good evening."

She greeted you with a modest nod of her head. It was strange, but she wasn't wearing clothes to sleep in, but instead a dress as if she was planning to leave.

Aline was a woman of advanced age. Her hair had once been the same colour as her daughters': red. Over time it had faded, now it looked dusty brown. But the expression on her face was still sharp.

"How was your absence? Refreshing, I hope.", she asked, looking out of the window. "Is everything all right with them? As far as it goes..."

You frowned in confusion. Aline had always been Verso's mother to you, kind and a bit of an adult role model. But she had never taken a parental role and you weren't considering her a friend.

"I... was injured on duty. Just a few scratches.", your gaze wandered down your legs, a few scratches and scars left from the unfortunate incident. "But I'm alright. Verso was quite the help."

Her eyes wandered over your body. She seemed taken aback, took a deep breath. Then she shook her head.

"You start to forget.", she said, turning towards a door. "So it's starting. Inevitable."

"Pardon?"

She pushed the door open and looked back. Your eyes met and for a brief second it felt like she was disappointed. Or pleased. It was hard to tell.

Without a word, she invited you to come with her. You hesitated. At the same time, there was this feeling slumbering inside you. She knew something you should know.

Aline had always been a clever woman and was partly responsible for Verso being the man you fell in love with. And despite all that, there was something else. If it had felt like you didn't belong in this place for the last few weeks, now it felt like she was a stranger too. As if you both came from the same place that no one wanted to return to.

So your feet carried you in her direction. The door slammed shut in your back. Walls of books rose up before your eyes, a room full of paper and ink. The thought made your heart race.

It seemed so familiar. As if you were finally home. But you didn't want to be home. Not if no one was waiting for you there.

"Sit.", she offered.

And you did. Your fingers started to itch at the sight of the many books. Something in the back of your head started to sing, a soft melody from a sirens lips.

Gaze wandered over your body. You could still feel the last effects of the alcohol, a slight sensation of ecstasy left that Verso had given you mere hours before.

You felt a little dirty knowing that Aline knew what you had done with her son. Or what he had done to you. At the same time she seemed rather unimpressed. Almost as if she had been able to tell that it was bound to happen at some point.

Like destiny.

With a sigh, she let herself fall down in the chair opposite of yours, folded her hands in her lap and took another deep breath.

"You seem tired.", you noted.

Somehow it felt appropriate to talk casual to her. Almost as if the two of you knew each other in a way nobody else did. You understood her. She understood you. One way or another.

"I am. Keeping all this together. It is draining.", she smiled thinly. "But I am also happy. For just a few minutes of the day my heart beats again. I feel alive. Just for a bit. It's better than this emptiness. The knowledge that I am visiting a room that is frozen in time."

"A piano that will never be played again.", you added, your eyes wandered out the window into the night. "I... what is this? Why... are we talking like this?"

Your gaze found her again. She didn't look at you like friends. She didn't even like you. But you were connected by something that was far stronger than trust: understanding for one another.

"You are loosing yourself in this world.", she let the tips of her fingers wander over the cover of a book while a soft expression of disgust crossed her face. "When was the last time you wrote?"

A bolt of lightning chased down your spine. All the hairs on your body stood up straight while goosebumps enthralled you.

"Writing?", you asked as a feeling of longing roamed through your veins.

All of a sudden you remembered the scent of freshly pressed paper. You remembered the feeling of cold ink sticking to your fingers.

"Yes.", she locked eyes with you. "You are a writer after all."

Chapter Text

All of a sudden, the world seemed to collapse over your head. Tiny scraps of parchment rained down on you while ink devoured the colours. You could feel it, feel it tingling in your fingers. Suddenly there was that chant you'd had in your head since childhood, a chorus of your heritage calling you to take up the quill and devour pigment.

"I am...", trembling, you clutched your aching head, fingernails digging into your forehead so deeply that they left little crescents on your (S/C) skin. "I am a writer. I am... a child of ink and words."

Goosebumps enthralled your entire body as your blood began to turn black as ink and your skin turned to paper, yearning for words.

You remembered who you were. What you were. Why you were in this place and what had happened.

"The fire...", your voice was barely a whisper.

Aline's eyes narrowed. There was nothing to suggest she was surprised at what was happening to your mind. At the same time, there was a sense of duty in her eyes.

"I forget too.", she said. "Sometimes I forget too. That this world isn't real. That nothing we do corresponds to reality. That..."

Her words faltered. She swallowed hard, pressed her thin lips together.

Your whole body trembled. A weight settled on your chest, pressing your skin and bones together until you could barely breathe.

"He- he isn't either.", tears welled up in your (E/C) eyes. "He's not real either."

Without a word, she shook her head. But the expression in her eyes had so much more to say. So many things remained unspoken between you at that moment.

And yet. You understood each other. You grieved together. In that moment, you were two sides of the same coin. Although something was burning on your soul.

"What... what happened?", tired and staring into space, you let yourself sink into the armchair as if the cushion could swallow you up. "I was... gone?"

She nodded. The woman sitting in front of you was real, just like you. The rest of this world was not. All at once it felt like a realisation that could destroy the existing.

"You were inside the canvas for a long time.", she breathed in deeply, letting her pale eyes fall shut. "We've been in the canvas for so long. I can't remember how long."

"Is there such a thing as too long?"

A mild smile twitched at her lips. She looked old and although she was old compared to you, she had no reason to look that way. As if she was barely alive and only holding on to one more life. She was tired, worn out. The life was draining out of her but she refused to leave.

"One can get lost in the worlds behind the canvases.", she sighed. "There were those who never came back. And those who did thought reality was false and the painting was real. They longed to return. And then they never came back either."

"I'm not afraid of getting lost. And I don't want to go back either.", your voice trembled. "There's nothing worth going back for."

She nodded.

"Maybe not for you.", she said. "But I have something. Should have something."

A tiny shred of a memory crossed your mind. Alicia. She had been real, had trusted you. And to thank her, her brother had died. The man you had loved, in the real world and in every painting Aline could have painted of him.

"You were sick. Decaying.", her voice was suddenly firmer, as if she just needed to take a breath. "Your body was at its end and your mind lost itself."

You squinted your eyes.

"I... didn't want to go."

"No. But I made you."

A snort escaped you. For some reason, the thought that she cared about you amused you. Macabre to think that you were only in this place because you had begged her on your hands and knees.

"I lost time with him. He thinks I've left him."

"I couldn't freeze time in the canvas. I have a lot of power over this world but even here there are things beyond my control."

You looked at her with narrowed eyes. Her face resembled a mask. You knew it wasn't true. She was a painter and could do whatever she wanted. When she wanted to, she created people and let them do whatever she wanted. She could change their memories like she had done with Verso and everyone else.

They all thought you had gone away to do something when she had banished you from the canvas. And now you even remembered the exact moment.

Verso had been standing next to you, holding you in his arms while the blood ran out of your nose. He had had that look of despair in his eyes. And then Aline had turned you into golden petals.

How you had come back was hard to say, but you knew it was only because she had allowed you to. Had allowed you to return.

"What do you want?", you finally asked, rubbing your face.

Sweat shimmered on your forehead. She was watching you.

"You should return.", she finally said. "Back to reality."

You laughed.

"And you?", anger overcame you only to be extinguished the next moment by a wave of tiredness. "You've been here so much longer than I have."

"I'm a painter.", Aline gritted her teeth.

"You lose yourself in the canvas too, Aline. And one day what almost happened to me will happen to you. You will die, here, in this world. We both will.", you gifted her a thin smirk. "I am not only willing but also ready to do so. I might even yearn for that moment."

Her eyebrows twitched.

"Here I can see my son."

A tired smile spread across your lips.

"And what about your daughters?", you asked. "What about your husband? What about those who remain?"

Anger flared up in the paleness of her eyes only to be smothered by tears the next moment.

"You promised you would look after him.", she hissed. "No matter the cost. Time flies faster inside the canvas. A few decades here are days in the real world. Verso is immortal here. You will pass away. Maybe even before you're considered old."

"I will. And when I die, sooner than I have to, I will. He'll hold my hand for that. And... maybe...", your gaze fell on your finger, where the feeling of emptiness had eaten into your flesh.

"He wanted to marry you in the real world.", she rose. "If he wants to do it here too, then I won't stand in your way."

Chapter Text

A headache plagued you when you woke up in Verso's arms the next morning. Sunlight kissed your cheeks as his warm body pressed against yours. The breathing of his chest pressed into your back, your heartbeats merging into one.

With his face buried in your neck, he snored softly to himself. Carefully, you lifted your hand and caressed his dark hair. He wasn't real. You remembered that, even if it was painful. The real Verso had died in his sister's place.

And yet. It didn't matter that he had been made out of paint and grief. Your heart loved him. Your flesh desired him. To you, he was all you had left and that was enough to be real.

Slowly you turned in his arms and breathed a kiss on his forehead. He pulled a face, grumbled softly but his eyes didn't open. He continued to sleep while you slowly traced the contours of his face with the tips of your fingers.

He was so calm that it seemed almost unreal. The real Verso, at least the one made of flesh and bones, had been a little twitchy in his sleep. But Aline couldn't have known.

This world was wonderful, just what Aline needed to overcome her grief. And she had given you a second chance. Maybe even a whole life of what could have been. It was worth dying for.

"I love you.", you whispered as you buried your face in his hair.

The smell of shampoo and wine still clung to him. He grinned tiredly in his sleep. His eyes opened a crack, pale blue shimmering in the sunlight.

"Hmmm...", he grumbled with his typical crooked grin. "That's one way I like to wake up."

Without hesitation, he reached towards you and planted a kiss on your lips. It wasn't shy or insecure, it had exactly the same desire in it as the kiss he had pressed you against the cold wall with the night before.

Little hairs stood up on the back of your neck. Goose bumps spread all over your body while your heart skipped a beat.

"Come here.", gently but firmly he turned you round and pulled you into his arms.

Your back nestled against his hairy chest, he placed his chin on your shoulder and kissed your neck. The hairs of his beard tickled you.

"Mon chou.", your fingers found his hair and stroked through the thick waves. "You seem quite needy this morning."

While the tip of his nose pressed against your neck, he smiled.

"I'm always like this.", he kissed your neck again, then your shoulder. "At least with my beloved."

At the word, a small lightning bolt ran through your body. You didn't notice that your chroma materialised it and let the electricity travel over both your bodies.

Verso flinched in surprise, a small flame flaring up from his hair. The blue flash dyed the red the same colour, fusing them together and turning them into one. It only lasted a second, but in that moment you could feel how close you were now.

Your fingers dug into his arm, leaving small prints of your nails. He was real. He was real to you, the only thing that remained. All that remained. And as long as you could hold onto him it was enough.

"Je t'ai enfin retrouvé.", you whispered with a smile and tears gathering in your (E/C) eyes.

He kissed your shoulder and you dwelled in the feeling of his lips on your (S/C) skin, the slight scratch of the beard hairs and the warmth of his breath next to your neck.

A smile lit up your face as you turned to meet his gaze. You had to chuckle.

"You look like you've been through some rough times, mon coeur.", gently, you let your fingers wander along the lines of his jaw.

Like a cat, he let his eyes fall shut and pushed himself into the touch, savouring the feeling of your fingers gently holding his face.

You wondered for how long he had wanted this. It almost seemed like he felt this was a dream come true. Perhaps Aline had painted him this way. Perhaps the longing he embodied came from a fraction of the real Verso.

You faltered at the thought. Real.

How was it possible that he wasn't real?

How was it possible that this wasn't the life you had planned together?

A feeling of pain overcame you, deep and lurking like a kind of disease that brooded inside your innermost until it was time to feed on the despair.

If he wouldn't have went to safe his sister, if you had agreed to run away the night before, everything would have been fine.

At least for the two of you.

Instead you had pleaded for him to have just a little more patience. Your heart had still hoped there was something left to fix. Even though it had been foolish you had wanted to say a final goodbye to your brothers.

It hurt to now have what you couldn't. It hurt to know that this was just an illusion, a breath of what reality could have been but never would be.

And yet.

In that moment you felt at ease. Your mind was at peace with the knowledge that this was just a dream. A painfully wonderful dream that would never end.

At least not until your time within the painting was over.

Deep down you wondered if Aline would one day decide that you weren't worthy of her escape no more and would force you out just like she had done before.

It was odd, but you didn't even remember how it was to return. You did not remember what you had done or how you had felt.

Reality felt more like a dream than the life within the canvas did. Perhaps that even was the case. This was your reality now.

All of a sudden a soft bush of hair brushed against your cheek.

"Don't frown, ma foudre.", Verso whispered in his raspy, sleepy voice. "C'mon. Let's have some breakfast."

Chapter Text

"You really want to go out for breakfast now?", you asked with a smug smile as Verso dug through his wardrobe for some clean clothes.

As expected from a man in his thirties still living with his parents, his room was a mess. Not entirely but just enough to raise some questions.

Back in the day your group of friends had joked that he had the most clothes out of all of you and in this moment it showed a little. Some of his white shirts were tossed on the floor while his collection of boots and suit shoes were scattered around.

The bedroom was connected to another room in which he had kept a kind of clean state. A piano occupied most of the space, a paint set and an old train play set made of wood.

You still remembered how you had played with it as kids. He had been obsessed with it.

Smiling to yourself, you had to realise that these memories were fake. You had entered the canvas as an adult woman and had never known Verso as a child. Not really.

The friendship between the two of you was a lie although not the love. As your eyes found him, halfway disappearing inside the large wardrobe, your heart skipped a beat.

Yes, you loved him. And that could have never been fake. All of a sudden you wondered if his love for you was fake, just a symptom that his mother had painted him to have.

But did that truly matter?

It was selfish to think this way but in that very moment you did not care if his feelings for you were a lie or not. All you felt was relief because he was with you. You could touch him, hear his voice, his laugh and see him smirk his incredibly charming, crooked smirk.

"Not go out.", he pulled his head out of the wardrobe, holding a white cotton shirt in his hand. "The kitchen is downstairs."

Chuckling, you raised one eyebrow, tilting your head.

"You can't cook.", you noted.

He let out a soft huff. The dark strands of his hair were all messy from the night before. That was a thing you remembered as clear as day, you sitting on him while he looked like he had to hold on for dear life.

It made your cheeks burn to fantasise about all the times you would do it to him again.

"I can try to make us something edible.", he shrugged, tossing one of his shirts at you. "As much as I hate to say it, put some clothes on and I'll show you."

Huffing, you grabbed the shirt and threw it on but not without flashing him in a teasing way one last time. It almost made him pounce on you. The look in his eyes was so savouring that it chased heat through your entire body.

You wanted to kiss him again.

"So what do you plan on making me?", you asked, letting your feet dangle off the edge of the bed.

"Whatever your heart desires.", he walked towards you, grabbed your face with both hands and placed a kiss on your forehead.

You smiled softly.

"You really are a sweet talker.", teasingly, you gave him a push to the chest. "Did it ever get you anywhere?"

He tilted his head with a grin.

"Into someone's pants, you mean?"

"Hmmm."

He took a deep breath, leaned back and braced himself for the consequences of the words he was about to say out loud.

"It got me into yours.", Verso said.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned back and let yourself fall back into the soft sheets. They still smelled of your bodies connecting, were warmed by the light of the sun.

The golden strands fell through the large windows and illuminated the room, kissed your (S/C) skin and made the way too deep cutout from Verso's shirt seem rather inviting.

At least enough for his eyes to start wandering. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, wondered if this was just his reaction to something new or if he truly was this obsessed with you already.

Thinking of it, you hadn't specified your relationship yet. Although it seemed the two of you were pretty much on the same page.

You loved each other. You wanted each other.

"You got into my pants because I think it's adorable how much of an idiot you are, mon chou.", you chuckled, pointing at him. "And you happen to be quite handsome when you're drunk."

The look on his face changed, for a brief moment he seemed to consider pouncing on you with all his weight. Instead, he leaned down, his shadow swallowing you whole and breathed some sweet words against the sensitive part of your neck.

"Only when I'm drunk?", his knee slid between your legs, gently creating some more space for him to slip between them. "C'mon now. Give me some compliments. My ego needs it~."

He lowerred himself onto the bed, hus crotch applying pressure to your middle. It was hard to tell if this was on purpose or not. But it was easy to say that it coaxed a soft reaction out of you.

"You seem to be in need of something entirely else.", you whispered into his ear, giving it a soft nibble. "Quite the stamina you have. Where was it last night?"

He huffed.

"You're so mean."

"Of course. It's not like we can't work on that. We've got time. For once.", your fingers found his hair to play with some of the strands. "But right now I'm hungry. If you don't mind."

Verso placed a kiss on your collarbone that was showing between the layer of white cotton he had given you to wear.

"You look good in my clothes.", he noted. "Maybe wear them more often?"

Rolling your eyes, you pushed his face away and slipped out from under him. Heat pulsated between your legs and the urge to sit on him raged inside your stomach.

"I know you'll complain once I start only wearing your clothes."

He gestured towards his overflowing wardrobe.

"Plenty enough for both of us."

Chapter Text

With a tired smile, you sat at the counter in the kitchen wearing only Verso's shirt and watched as he struggled a little to get the basics of cooking right.

Even if it wasn't actually funny, you found it quite amusing to see him so helpless. It suited him, although a little conceited and very sure of himself, he was in no way capable of surviving on his own.

"Are you sure you don't want me to help you?", you asked with a yawn.

Rolling his eyes sarcastically, he pursed his lips and threw some butter into a pan. He hadn't even prepared anything yet, no batter or anything he wanted to fry. The butter would burn. But he would find that out for himself.

"A little faith in me, okay?", he propped himself up on the tabletop with both hands and gave you a very confident grin.

A snort escaped you.

"Trusting you with fire or creating something edible is like putting a knife in a child's hand.", you blew a kiss in his direction.

He rolled his eyes.

"Your lack of trust pains me, ma vie.", theatrically, he put a hand to his forehead and sighed so deeply that you had to laugh.

"You would have made such a good actor.", resting your face in both hands you watched him pour eggs, milk and sugar into a bowl and then start mixing.

"Right?", he glanced over his shoulder. "The theatre would have made me a leading actor. I would have been in the leading role everywhere. And I can play instruments. Leading actor and musician. That actually sounds pretty cool."

You chuckled.

"Why didn't you ever try?"

He snorted.

"Maman would have killed me. All those private lessons with the sword, magic classes and a degree in politics and then her son becomes an actor?", the grin on his lips was so wide when he turned to you that your heart leapt.

It was so similar to the original. You hastily shook off the thought. He was the original. He was the only one.

And yet. Aline had created him as a copy, so perfect that you couldn't tell him apart from the flesh and blood version. She really was a powerful painter.

A shiver ran down your spine. Goose bumps spread all over your body. This world was hers. She was the goddess of all existence in this place. And you were just a visitor, tolerated until she changed her mind and no longer wanted you in her realm.

How would she react if she knew that you had once again claimed her son for yourself?

Anything was possible in this place, a second chance was realistic. You loved Verso and he loved you. You could live together, get married, grow old and so much more.

How much could you take before Aline decided enough was enough and banned you from the canvas again?

The thought alone made your heart tighten. Inhaling sharply, you had to press a hand against your chest to keep from losing your mind.

Verso frowned.

"Are you alright?", he asked.

Butter started to sizzle in a hot pan. The scent of it made your head feel dizzy. At the same time a cold shiver crawled down your spine, goosebumps grew all over your body.

This wasn't real. Nothing was real. He wasn't real.

Were you?

A thin strand of blood dripped from your nose. It ran down your (S/C) skin, wetting your lips with the taste of iron and raw flesh.

"(Y/N).", all of a sudden there was the feeling of a hand grabbing your shoulder.

It was a soft touch, warm and so gentle it made your mind return to the present. Still with a sense of being lost you let your gaze wander up while a thin strand of blood dripped from your chin.

Verso's eyes gleamed with worry. His lips were slightly parted, just like they always were when he tried to calm his breathing. Small wrinkles spoiled his face.

With a soft smile you took a deep breath and reached out to caress his beard. The small hairs tickled the inside of your palm.

If he was but paint and mourning why did he feel like Verso?

Again, your heart pulled together. Perhaps it would have been better not to talk to Aline. Now you looked at him and felt terrible for seeing him in a different light.

Or did you?

"I don't care.", you whispered, your (E/C) eyes turning glassy.

Again, he frowned. One hand reached out to feel the temperature of your forehead. As he did not get what he was looking for Verso gently caressed your cheek with his knuckles.

His skin had texture. The way he touched you was just like back then. There was no difference between him and the man you had lost.

"Verso.", a tear ran down your cheek. "I'm... sorry..."

"Are you alright?", he grabbed your face and let his forehead fall against yours.

The bridges of your noses brushed against each other. It was such a warm, gentle kiss of bodies that it made your eyes flicker. A sigh escaped your lips.

"I'm fine.", you huffed. "I... feel terrible. I..."

"Maybe we should get you back to bed."

You shook your head.

"My mind is tired... not my body.", you knew that it would remain this way from now on.

Until the time you had been granted inside the canvas had run out. But you didn't mind. Not anymore. Or ever.

He was a person worth dying for.

And if being with him meant dying then you would accept this price to pay.

"Just a little longer.", you weren't sure if you said there words to yourself of Aline, or whichever powers ruled these canvases.

But it was a request of desperation and love equally. You wanted, no, needed just a little more time with him. Just this one life you wanted to be with Verso.

"Just... one lifetime.", you kissed him.

Chapter Text

"Feeling better?", still a hint of worry audible in his voice, Verso leaned over your shoulder.

You sat at his vanity table, washing your face and tidying up. Sure, everyone had parties hard the night before but you did not want to step outside while looking a mess.

Not even a hot one. Just a straight up mess.

Chuckling softly you pushed his face away. The warmth of his breath caressed your cheek. It made your skin grow goosebumps in all the right ways.

The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, mixed with the remaining smell of alcohol and the usual scent that the Dessendre family manor had. It smelled like home. It felt like a warm hug, like something the real world could or would have never given you.

In this place there was no war. You'd be able to create a life order peace for one another. With one another.

"I'm alright.", you smiled, your chest lighter and your mind accepting the truth. "I'm... at ease, actually."

He frowned a sly smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth. He was such a cocky bastard and yet it made your heart fluster every time.

"At ease?", he breathed a kiss to your temple. "I didn't know you were troubled."

You hesitated for a moment.

"Do I have to tell you everything?", you leaned back as he walked behind you to fetch some proper clothes for the day. "Now that we're..."

"A couple? Soulmates? Locked in for life?", he teased. "Absolutely. Tell me everything, down to the last tiny detail."

You huffed.

"Where do I start, mon chou?", you pretended to think for a moment. "Not long ago I had a met up and it earned me a nasty infection and-!

He threw a shirt at you.

"I got the hint!", Verso pulled a face. "You're so mean."

"I'm not."

"You just want to hurt my ego."

"I don't."

"You're making me jealous."

You paused, a sly grin on your face.

"I am?", slowly, menacingly, you turned to meet his gaze.

Verso threw back his head, strands of his bouncy dark hair trembling at the movement. The look he gave you was something between hurt pride and actual annoyance.

"You've had others before me, didn't you?", he turned away at the question, almost as if he wanted to avoid hearing the answer.

A soft sigh rolled off your lips.

"Why ask in the first place?", your gaze traveled towards your reflection in the mirror. "You've had others."

All the memories you've had were fake. Or perhaps not. You did not know exactly how things worked inside the canvas but you were quite confident that your life had started once you had entered this world.

Everything before that was just... an illusion.

Even the childhood memories of the two of you. The many days and nights of training and adventures as rebelling teens when you had snuck out of the safe walls of Lumière to explore the continent.

Or maybe you had been reborn and the life you had lived had been real. It was hard to tell.

His jaw clenched as Verso's bright eyes wandered through the room.

"I did.", he finally said. "But... I- uhh.... Don't think worse of me."

He threw a glance over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of your reaction. Verso was, by no means, insecure. If confidence was a person it would have been him. But in this split second as your eyes met you could see fear in him.

"I already think the worst of you.", you teased.

The edges of his mouth twitched for a smile but faltered.

"I know.", his voice was soft but it was much less the man he was and way more the boy he once had been. "I love you. I've always loved you. And only you. Everything else was... teenage curiosity? Weakness of the flesh? I... it's hard to describe but... I never considered Julie your competitor. Because she's not. No one compares to you. No one."

You eyed him from the corner of your vision.

"What you did and didn't do before this...", you gestured between him and you. "It doesn't matter. It's your business."

"It's a relationship.", he clarified, not leaving space for misinterpretation or misconceptions.

You smiled, your chest filling with a kind of warmth that had once carried you through the coldest of nights.

"It is."

He nodded to himself.

"Good.", he muttered.

"Good."

"Yes. Good."

"Mhm."

For a brief moment silence settled between the two of you. It was a little uncomfortable but in your mind this moment was just right to address another elephant in the room.

Taking a deep breath you turned in your seat and let out a deep sigh as you tilted your head and looked directly at him.

"You do realise you gotta move out now, don't you?", you asked.

Surprised, Verso lifted his eyebrows. His gaze traveled around the room for a moment, large and spacious but also unmistakably a former children's bedroom.

"I guess this small bed won't cut it for the two of us, huh?", he asked with a smile.

You frowned.

"I will not climb through the window for the rest of this relationship.", you protested. "Or feel embarrassed when I think about the possibility of your parents being able to hear us."

He huffed.

"I'd be more concerned about Alicia and Maelle. My poor babies can't be traumatised this early in their lives."

You pulled a sarcastic face.

"They're sixteen. I'm pretty sure they know what we did."

Shocked, he sucked in a sharp breath.

"They're only sixteen!", Verso frowned.

You rolled your eyes.

"They're already sixteen, Verso. They're practically adults."

"They're my baby sisters."

"You're overreacting...", with a smirk, you leaned forward in his direction and eyed him in a serious manner. "You need to move out."

He sighed. However you could tell it was just for show because there was a slight twitch visible in the corner of his mouth.

"Maybe I already did that.", he winked. "Wanna see?"