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Sometimes Noli wonders if he should confess his feelings to Seven, to tell him how his heart sings violently in a symphony of love every time he sees him nearby, how, beneath his mask, hidden like a poorly kept secret, his cheeks warm when their fingers brush by accident.
But when he remembers how much he loves their friendship, he does nothing but discard those thoughts as fleeting, unreachable things he must let go of.
—It’ll pass.
He thought once again as he traced Seven’s features under the dim light of his old laptop.
He didn’t even care if it was about a project, a new code, or even a script they would exploit all week—what mattered was that he,
was with him.
He couldn’t help but imagine, on that bittersweet night, that somewhere, even if far away and unreachable, they would be together.
…
…
Ha…!
That would be freaking weird, wouldn’t it?
«It would really be freaking weird…»
He agreed, more to himself than anything else.
Still, the comment didn’t go unnoticed by the ever-alert ears of 226w6, who stopped immediately once the words made sense to them.
“Hmm.”
Dolor then imitated them, almost bumping into them for the second time on the trip.
He had been far too lost in thought. That wasn’t like him at all.
What was wrong with him?
Still, he asked.
“Something wrong? Are we there already?”
And there was no reply, just a slight flick of their ears.
He never really knew what it meant, though it must have been something trivial, given how often they did it.
“Do you need my help? What's the problem, a river too deep? A path too steep? You could just say it and I—”
“Dolor.”
They spoke so naturally.
With such a simple tone.
Nothing like an order, more like a compliment—oddly… therapeutic?
Something so gentle he didn’t know how to respond.
How could he be sure they were referring to him? Si—226w6 had never addressed him with...
Such, softness.
In fact, he was so confused that he turned around at least twice looking for some other Dolor they might be talking to.
There was nothing particularly interesting, just trees and a faint, delicate scent of roses.
What an idiot. He probably should’ve just stayed quiet and let the moment pass and—
“Earlier—”
They began.
“Did you say something?”
And Dolor said nothing.
Not then, nor in the next ten minutes that passed like an eternity.
He just stared.
Expressionless, in his old knight's armor.
And just when 226w6 decided to let it go as a slip, Dolor replied, softly and almost inaudibly, as if trying to hide it:
“Yes.”
But he corrected himself.
“I mean! I say a lot of things, of course I said something!”
They simply looked at him, as if waiting for something more.
“What exactly do you want to know?”
But they didn’t respond. Not this time.
This time, the slight nod was enough to say everything.
Dolor just followed them.
And so they passed through the beautiful rose bushes, carefully avoiding every branch, past an old twisted oak they observed for a few minutes before continuing, until finally, after a small detour, they arrived at an open field—wide and fragrant, where flowers spread out elegantly.
But before he could say a word, a pair of violet orchid petals hit him in the face.
The scene was, to say the least, embarrassing—attacked by an orchid. Who would imagine?
They simply laughed, and his cheeks felt strangely warm.
“So then”
He began, brushing the petals away with his hand.
“Why did you bring me here, 226w6?”
They smiled, and Dolor felt his heart clench, even if he probably didn’t have one.
Still, they didn’t answer, just narrowed their eyes and continued, ignoring his question.
“You know, Dolor,” they continued softly, sitting in the tall grass that tickled their fingers like tiny needles.
“Years ago, before you came back to life, there was nothing here but cold frost and wilted flowers.”
Dolor blinked in surprise at the statement.
“And now, it’s a beautiful field, one with a radiant future ahead. Do you notice the difference?”
He really didn’t notice the difference at all.
He thought sitting beside them might help.
It didn’t. Something must be wrong with him.
And they, getting no response, just smiled.
They weren’t cruel, they didn’t leave him for not understanding.
They understood him in a way no one else ever had. Dolor wasn’t a bad man.
“You must wonder sometimes why, among all the things one can do in this world, making the world pretty again is my favorite, right?”
Dolor didn’t reply with words; a slight nod was enough.
“...Good…”
They nodded.
Letting the wind strike their antlers, and the sun—growing ever more distant—bathe their face in its soft golden glow.
Dolor’s heart felt a little warmer just from the view.
They didn’t need to say another word to explain why making the world pretty was their favorite thing.
He understood. He truly understood.
They were the best masters he could’ve ever wished for.
And his heart beat with love for them. Even so, they said nothing.
Was it too soon, right?
…
Even so, with as much care as he could muster, and fingers trembling against the leaves, he plucked a beautiful red carnation from the colorful field.
He held it in his fingers for a few seconds and offered it to them. He didn’t know the meaning, he just went with the beautiful color.
A lovely scarlet that matched their eyes perfectly.
226w6’s cheeks flushed and their legs trembled.
It was like a silent love confession that was still heard—and they heard it clearly.
So clearly that, as he searched for another pair to give them—
More as an offering than a gift—
They kissed him.
And his body felt warm without needing the sun.
They would be his sun.
No further explanation was needed to return the feeling, even if it was awkward.
They would make it work.
They cradled his head in their arms and pulled him close, deepening the embrace.
And everything was warm and sweet enough.
Because, even though he couldn’t feel their lips through the armor, he leaned in, closed his eyes, and enjoyed the moment.
Imagining what it would be like to really kiss them—for, in the end, he was just a knight in borrowed armor.
And knights always end up with the princess in fairy tales—and he was not one.
And Six was no princess.