#✏️〰odorawrites

[odoraful]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐌 𝐩.𝟏

zayne's last dream has left him shaken and he hopes to meet you again to reconcile his fears

content: dawnbreaker!zayne x reader; a direct continuation from zayne’s anecdote 'still in the dark'; ~1k words a/n: spoilers for ‘still in dark’ so if you haven’t read it yet be warned! read part 2 here reading bgm ♫ Prologue V - The Weight of History's Presence

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Though it had been days since that last dream, the shocked expression on your face has since haunted Zayne. 

You aren’t Dr. Zayne. Who are you?

He’d been afraid to fall back asleep again since. Those dreams he once coveted so much, desperately hoping for your warm embrace, now became a source of fear for him. In every fleeting moment you shared, he thought he’d done everything right. He played the role of that smart and reliable partner just for you. 

It had all been perfect until that last dream. 

The days from then on stretched endlessly like taffy. Zayne filled in his time doing anything he could to silence his fears. He thought often about activities Georgie would have enjoyed and made himself plans with the young boy in mind. Trying new sweets at the dessert shop, reading beside the jasmine flower field in the plaza, watching the sun set from his apartment window. Detective Ivan seemed to have kept his promise, and the public whispers of Dawnbreaker fizzled away, leaving Zayne free to carry out his duties in complete anonymity. He’d sometimes finish his day off with a visit to Georgie and his mother’s graves. During the night, he’d stay awake for as long as his body could handle until he was overcome with fatigue, passing out wherever he sat.

He found that no dreams would come if he slept this way. 

The impracticality of this type of living did not faze Zayne until he stared at his own reflection in the mirror one day. He had heavy bags under his eyes and a pallor to his face that made him almost unrecognisable to himself. He gripped the edge of the sink, a sudden nausea making his head spin.

It was foolish to continue like this. He needed to see you again. 

Perhaps he should try and talk to you without the guise of this doctor. If the dream had allowed you to speak out, then surely it would give him the same ability. He would explain himself to you, prove that he was the person you loved. These dreams he had since he was a child had shaped his entire worldview. He moulded himself to be yours. Surely, with your presence in these dreams also, they must mean something to you too. 

Yes, that would be the most sensible course of action. 

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For the first time in a while, Zayne gave himself a proper night routine. Though, the flavourless nutritional liquid he downed for dinner did little to quell the anxiety in his stomach, and washing his face with cool water could not banish the heat from his cheeks. 

His mind was filled with rehearsals of what he would say to you as he laid in bed. In his periphery, he made out the dim, red glow the numbers of his alarm clock casted across the dark room. Zayne read in a medical fact sheet that it took a person around fifteen to twenty minutes to fall asleep. Turning to look at the clock, the numbers that read 23:18 dazzled his vision. 

He closed his eyes, the afterimage of the red numbers remaining behind his eyelids. His final thoughts were a plea to the stars above to let him visit you again, before he let his subconscious pull him deeper.

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Zayne did not know how he arrived here, but he now stood on a gravel path beneath archways of curling shrubbery. The greenery was well manicured with small white flowers. As he inhaled, he was surprised to find the light scent of jasmine in the air. A small piece of familiarity that calmed his senses.

Stepping out from the shade and onto grass, he realised the dream was set in a garden. Benches were scattered around to provide viewing seats for the flowers, which, Zayne noticed, seemed to only be variations of different types of white flowers. Close by, there was a river dotted with clusters of lily pads and white petals that gently drifted along the surface. A bridge over the river led to a green roofed pavilion suspended atop the water. Zayne was so accustomed to his own drab and dark world that it almost hurt his eyes to gaze around this idyllic scene. The sound of indistinct chatter surrounded him, however, there were no signs of other people around no matter where he turned, save for one person he spotted standing on the grass.

Zayne exhaled a shaky breath.

A pale blue dress that stood out against the flowering white buds flitted around your legs, though his own clothes did not rustle against any breeze. Sunlight illuminated your skin, though he could not feel any warmth from its rays. His dreams had strange ways of carefully crafting his desires. You had an expectant expression on your face, glancing about in search of somebody. Zayne’s feet felt like dragging weights as he forced himself to walk, fighting off his fear of closing the distance. 

Your expression turned to delight when you saw him approaching. You waved at him, grinning. Something twisted inside him. How long had it been since he’d seen that smile? 

He put up a hand hesitantly in greeting. 

You began to walk, almost skipping towards him. Zayne almost backed away, startled by your enthusiasm. 

Only metres apart now, you suddenly froze, eyes going wide. Zayne didn’t move a muscle, feeling his own body lock up. The background chatter dissipated, as you opened your mouth to speak. The world turned silent as if in anticipation for the words you were about to say. 

“It’s- it’s you again.” 

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[odoraful]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐌 𝐩.𝟐

zayne finally meets with you again in his dreams, though he is unprepared to face the harsh truth

read part 1 content: dawnbreaker!zayne x reader; a direct continuation from zayne’s anecdote 'still in dark' (spoiler warning); 2.2k words; angst :( reading bgm ♫ It is The Nature of Dreams to End (Julia)

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It took a few seconds for Zayne’s brain to register that he should reply to you. 

Stop staring with your mouth agape. Say something. 

The words were lodged in his throat.

You fidgeted with your hair, eyes turned downwards. “Excuse my manners. I should stop addressing you incorrectly and ask for your name.”

Zayne cringed internally. A great start — he now gave the impression that he was deliberately ignoring you for your supposed impoliteness. 

“No, please, it's alright.” The sentence tumbled out of him. “My name is Zayne.” His arms remained glued at his sides. 

“It's the same as his… everything is the same,” you murmured, shaking your head in disbelief. Your brow was in a deep furrow, as if you someone had given you some incalculable equation to solve. He could tell that a million questions were flooding your thoughts right now. 

“If it’s any consolation,” he tried his best to give a reassuring smile, but he felt his lips tremble as he lifted the corners of his mouth, “I also have questions about how we’ve come to meet.”

You raised your head, finally meeting his gaze. In all his dreams with you, he'd never seen such worry on your face. He felt a crushing urge to take you in his arms, smooth a hand over your hair, whisper in your ear that he was here for you, that he was here to protect you. Instead, he squeezed his fists tight.

“Then, should we go somewhere more comfortable and have a talk?” You offered, turning around to face the pavilion suspended on the river. You lifted a hand to shade your eyes. “The sun is too bright to be standing outside.” 

Zayne nodded. It would be too embarrassing for him to say that the golden sunlight targeting you was likely a product of his own subconscious. Moving to your side, the two of you headed towards the bridge leading to the pavilion. As he walked, Zayne relaxed his fists, feeling the sting in his palm from his own digging fingernails.

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Your eyes went wide with alarm. “Humans that slowly transform into wanderers? That’s horrifying.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, goosebumps forming on your skin.

Sitting now on the bench that lined the inside of the pavilion, the two of you conversed about your respective worlds. With embarrassment, he mentioned how he dreamt about you since he was 12. You laughed at how shy he was getting, as he turned his head away from yours, not wanting you to see the break in his coolness. When you spoke, he acted as a dutiful listener, despite having already extensively researched the fabled Linkon City. It felt surreal to hear your experience first hand. It made him feel less crazy to hear everything he learned was true. 

“And are there hunters to help control this? To keep everyone safe?” You asked. 

Zayne inhaled a long breath. He looked out past your shoulder at the shimmering river. He turned solemn, his eyes unfocused. 

“I don’t know of anybody in my world who has an evol, as you’ve called it, besides me.” 

He felt no pride in owning this power. It was a burden he shouldered since he was a child. Yet, he understood the gravity of the responsibility forced upon him. If he abandoned this role, what would become of his world? The cards he were dealt gave him a singular purpose in life. 

That was until you entered his life. 

You remained silent, digesting the information he had given and what it implied. Zayne felt acutely aware of every one of his senses. The rhythm of his breaths, the weight of his hands clasped in his lap, the stiffness in his posture. 

“You save people’s lives.”  His eyes shifting back to you, Zayne unexpectedly saw a wistful look on your face. “It reminds me a lot of my Zayne.”

This should have been the part where you condemned him, like everyone else in his world. Called him a monster, a killer, nothing but a story to scare children into behaving well. If he wasn’t mistaken, the faint smile on your face was one of admiration. Never had he seen himself as heroic. Those few words you spoke made him crumple. He placed his head in his hands. Not only that, you said it reminded you of your Zayne. 

He heard the rustle of your dress beside him as you sat closer to him. Your legs almost flush against his. If he leaned barely a millimetre to his right, your arms would touch. 

“I want to know,” he started, finding his voice again. “In the past, you never realised I was someone else. What changed in that last dream?”

Humming in thought, you tapped a finger on your chin. “I’m not too sure about it myself.” You began to chuckle sheepishly.  “I do have a working theory, but I would need to…” Your sentence trailed off. Zayne stared at you, confused. You seemed to shrink under his gaze. 

“Is it alright if I…” Biting your lip, you fidgeted with your fingers. “Touch you?” 

What kind of theory is this? Zayne could never guess your next move. Freely speaking your mind, acting on your first instinct, these were traits so foreign to him. Your unpredictability was something he loved and feared.

“Of- of course,” he blurted out, less composed than he would’ve liked to show. He prayed his cheeks didn’t betray him by turning bright pink. Turning his body towards you, he rested his hands on his thighs, waiting for what you would do. 

You reached a hand and gently cupped his cheek. 

Unable to contain his reaction, Zayne let out a shuddering breath at the contact as he leaned in. The casual affection that was so natural for you to show completely overwhelmed him. As you leaned in, your eyes slowly examined him, moving up and down his face. All Zayne could do was yield under your attention. Despite no words being exchanged, he felt more vulnerable to you than ever before. 

He grasped your hand, holding it against his face. You felt so real. How could his mind conjure something so tangible? The shape of your knuckles, the creases on your fingers, all of it was warm and alive under his cool touch. He was certain that if he touched the underside of your wrist, he would feel your steady pulse. 

“Zayne.” Your voice was a hesitant whisper. “You’re hurting me…” 

Caught up in exhilaration, Zayne didn’t notice how tight his grip had become. Your fingers were being crushed together by his. He immediately released his hold, cursing inwardly at himself. What was he thinking? Your Zayne wouldn’t have done that. He wouldn’t have been so aggressive, so overly emotional. 

“I remember now.” Feeling your breath graze his skin as you spoke, he fought off the urge to shiver. “I started to notice that there was something about your gaze…” Your eyes softened with sympathy. “There’s no warmth to it.”

Your hand trailed down his cheek to his neck. “And when I touch you.” Tingles followed wherever your fingers went. “You tense up everytime.” Emphasising your point, your hand rested on his shoulder, forcing him to relax his muscles. “Almost like you’re scared of me, somehow.”

No, this wasn’t how it was meant to go. He had expected you to say something trivial — his appearance was slightly off, or he had just forgotten to say or do something that was an obvious tell. These were easy fixes for him.

Zayne screwed his eyes shut, defenceless against your pity.

After all these dreams living in snippets as this doctor, this perfect version of himself, he still couldn’t get it right. No matter how well he could copy, from watching all those medical show episodes or tasting as many desserts as his barren world could offer, there were fundamental things about himself he couldn’t change.  

“I-I don’t understand.” He said, strained. He felt like a child again, terrified of making the wrong move. “I thought I did everything right.”

“You did!” You exclaimed. Bringing your other hand to his other shoulder, you gently squeezed them. “You treat me so kindly whenever we met, but my Zayne is the one back in my world, in Linkon.”

Your hands withdrew from his shoulders. “And in any case, this-” You gestured around, “- is just a dream. I might not even remember this exact conversation when I wake up. I don’t think I’m even real in this-”

“Don’t say that.” He snapped. 

His voice seemed to reverberate around the garden. The severity of his tone silenced you instantly. 

Sitting still was too restricting for him now. He ran a hand through his hair, needing to move around. He stood up, nausea swirling at the pit of his stomach. Rubbing his eyes with the edges of his hands, he saw stars in the vision. 

To hell with composure.

“I’ve known you for so, so long.” It was difficult to speak when every word constricted his throat. “Do not tell me that you’re not real because then everything I’ve worked towards would be for nothing.” 

You cocked your head, confused. “Everything you’ve worked towards?”

Sparing himself the shame, he stayed quiet. He wouldn’t tell you how he spent his entire life in a fruitless endeavour to become the person you loved. It was a shattering realisation he arrived at. He was nothing but an imposter, a poor imitation. He could never be your Zayne. Desperation bubbled rapidly within him. The pressure reached a tipping point. 

“You told me before that you’d always stay by my side" His tone wavered, struggling to keep stable between his quickened breaths. "Don’t leave me, please.” He pleaded, face contorting with agony. This loss would be more painful than any Abomination strike to his heart.

Your eyes were downcast, shoulders slumped. “Of course I can meet with you again, but I don’t think I can stay with you forever.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “I’m so, so sorry, Zayne. It- it just doesn’t feel right for some reason.”

The floor of the pavilion swayed under his feet. The tranquillity of the garden felt more like a mockery now than a solace. Why did you have to see through him? Could he have prevented this from happening? Seized by his own racing thoughts, he didn’t even detect you moving towards him. You encircled his waist with your arms and he crumpled into the hug instinctually. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. Nobody would be there to comfort him when he woke up. He’d share his misery with only the birds that nested at his window in the mornings. So, he savoured the feeling of your hand rubbing his back soothingly, letting your warmth consume him.

”Perhaps there’s an equivalent version of me in your world.” He could just hear your voice over the thumping heartbeat in his ears. “If there’s me and my Zayne in Linkon, then shouldn’t there also be someone for you?”  

A version of you? He couldn’t begin to process what you were saying. No one could replace you, it was a ridiculous suggestion. How easily you would brush him aside like this.

He dared to look at your face once more. There was no contempt in your expression like he thought there would be. There was genuine care in your eyes. Of course, you were always the hopeful one. 

“It’s not too late for you to find out who you truly are, Zayne.”

That was the last thing he heard before he was abruptly pulled from you. 

Dreams seldom have satisfying endings to them — bouncing from one scene to the next, blurring beginning, middle, end, and finishing far too soon. And so, like the snapping of thread, he was flung back into the waking world. 

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When Zayne awoke from previous dreams, he’d always feel at peace. However, this time he jolted awake, gasping for air. Taking in deep breaths to steady himself, he saw the blankets had been kicked aside onto the floor. Sweat slicked the back of his shirt and beaded down the side of his head. 

Zayne sat up against the bed head, letting his head roll to the side to gaze out the window. The sun was just beginning to rise, the landscape outside diffused by pale blue light. A bird flew up to the sill, hopping curiously on the ledge. It then settled down, legs disappearing into its feathery body. 

He opened the drawer of his bedside table and wearily reached for his journal and pen. With a heavy heart, he scrawled down everything he could recall about the dream. Where he was, what you wore, what you said. The occasional lilting chirp from the bird cut through his pondering.

“Another version of me.”

Could there be someone like you in his world? Someone who would want to spend time with him? He’d never thought to talk to anyone else, he only ever needed you. 

He finished his final sentence, the writing almost unintelligible.

“Who you truly are.” 

When he wasn’t chasing down the person in his head, when he wasn’t trying to be someone else, who was he, truly? 

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a/n: thank you for reaching the end xx 🥹 you've hit the surprise author note! i'm putting it here this time cuz i didn't want to detract from the main story with all my yapping at the start! i thought the bgm had a title fitting for my interpretation of dawnbreaker zayne's arc, and it does have the appropriate melancholic vibe to it :') this was my first time writing something longer and angst-ier, so apologies if it reads awkwardly D: i will continue honing my writing! i wish you a lovely day or night <3

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[odoraful]

𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐆𝐎 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄?

your classmate wants to go on a blind date with your crush and asks you to organise it ! how will you navigate this tricky situation?

content: modern au, ft. genshin characters x reader, 1.3k words a/n: this felt like a cheesy shojo plotline so my imagination just started running 🏃‍♀️

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˗ˏˋ꒰ PROLOGUE ꒱ˎˊ˗

“Could you please set me up with him?”

Your classmate has their hands clasped together, their eyes pleading at you. You mentioned off-handedly how you were close with the guy given the high honour of ‘campus crush’. Since then, they’ve been hounding you to arrange a blind date. 

Trying not to show your exasperation was getting more and more difficult. Every conversation somehow ended up having him in it. It was also even harder hearing them infatuate over someone you had liked for so long. Yes, you know the way his eyes light up whenever he gets excited, and how handsome he is no matter what he wears — you get that loud and clear! However, you knew they wouldn’t stop until you had at least tried to set something up. 

“Alright!” You lift your hands in surrender. “I’ll see what I can do.” You say, resignedly. 

Your classmate tackles you with a side hug, cheering with excitement. “You’re my hero! Thank you!” 

You pat them on the arm. Perhaps this was actually a good thing.  You’ve spent too long pining after your close friend, and his popularity meant he could easily find someone to be with. It wouldn’t be hard for him to fall for someone nice and approachable like your classmate.

Staring off into the distance, you wonder just how you’re going to approach this. 

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꒰ wanderer, xiao, cyno, kazuha ꒱

“No.” 

You barely finish the question before he abruptly answers, not even looking up from his laptop screen. The clicky noises from his typing punctuating the blunt response. You were visiting his place for the day to get some work done together. Though, you devoted more time to trying to find a way to ask the question rather than focusing on your tasks. 

Crossing your arms on the table, you lean in, trying to gauge exactly what kind of reaction he’s having to this. “Come on, you don’t even want to entertain the idea of finding a partner?” 

He sighs, fingers going still. Sensing this topic wasn’t dropping anytime soon, he closes his laptop screen halfway to get a better view of you. 

“Why would I want to meet someone new?” 

His sudden attention towards you made your thoughts scramble, and the response you had ready fizzles away. He rests his face in his hand, head tilted. Hair tousled slightly, eyes shining with curiosity — it's enough to cause your breath to stutter. You could curl up with embarrassment at how your cheeks still grew hot when he looked at you a certain way. 

Maybe I should have just texted him about this… 

“W-well it’s not just about meeting a new person, there’s the potential for falling in love as well.” 

He lets out a soft chuckle, sounding unconvinced at your words. Your heart sinks a little. Did he really not want to find a partner? It was just more evidence of your one-sided love. 

“I think I have all the people I need in my life already. And besides…” He turns his head, darting his eyes away from your gaze. “What if I already have someone I love?”

The air stills. 

Trying quickly to compose yourself, you exaggerate a gasp. “You like someone and you’ve never told me before?!”

Covering your mouth with both hands, you press your fingers together to stop them from trembling. 

He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I have for a while now.”

Now is the time for you to curl up with embarrassment. You couldn't believe it. All this time he had a crush on someone. You knew your chances were slim to begin with, but this really hammered that point home. You need something to distract you right now. 

Picking up your phone, you quickly unlock it and swipe to find your message app.

“I’ll text my classmate that you said no to the blind date for obvious reasons.” Your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes as you jokingly say, “And then you should go and actually ask your crush out so they don't think I’m lying.”

With your eyes averted from his face, he hangs his head, exhaling a shaky breath. You're about to press send on the message when you hear him clearing his throat.

“Okay then.” Looking up, you notice an unfamiliar shyness on his face. “(Y/N),"

Realisation hits you. This had to be a dream right? Your body reacts before your thoughts can even catch up — heartrate quickening, stomach fluttering. There's no way the next words out of his mouth would be-

"Would you like to go out with me?”

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꒰ childe, lyney, wriothesley, kaeya ꒱

His eyes go wide, before a smirk emerges on his lips. “A blind date?” He pops a spoonful of cake in his mouth, a pause for emphasis. “With who?”

You take your own spoon and tap away his one from taking another big piece. You thought the best chance to ask your question was when there was something sweet in front of him. Plus, the lively, unintelligible chatter and the whirring of the coffee machine in the café served as good background noise for any potential awkwardness on your part. You already feel a twinge of envy at how interested he seemed. 

“One of my classmates. We met at the start of this semester.”

He folds his arms, eyes narrowing at you. “Describe them for me. I need to know more about their personality before I make any hasty decisions.”

You roll your eyes. “Now doesn’t that defeat the whole ‘blind’ part of the blind date?”

“It doesn’t have to be detailed! I just wanna know what they’re like.”

Acquiescing to his wishes, you describe your classmate. You didn’t want to betray them, so you told him a faithful account of what they were like — outgoing, lively, sweet. The more you recounted details about them, the more you realised how perfect they would be with him. Once you finish your pitch, you take a piece of cake for yourself, scooping extra whipped cream from the top. Anything to make the lump in your throat go away. 

He hums in thought, then nods to himself, coming to some kind of conclusion. 

“Sorry. They don’t really sound like my type.”

Huh? You stare blankly at him.

“But they’re so nice! You would look so good together!” Your unexpected passion at defending your classmate causes him to lift a brow. “And besides, I didn’t realise you had a type.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” He says, matter of factly.

You busy yourself by aimlessly playing around with the remaining piece of cake with your spoon. Of course everyone has someone they gravitate towards. Even you, and that person was sitting right here. 

You’re almost afraid to ask this question, but your curiosity gets the better of you. “Well go on, what kind of person do you like then?” 

Almost like he was waiting for you to ask, he becomes animated as he talks. “Well, they need to be fun to hang out with, and definitely have similar interests as me.” 

He eyes your face and smiles.

“And I find it cute if they’re a little clumsy. Especially when it comes to eating cake. For example, they might have some cream in the corner of their lip right-” 

He reaches his hand towards your face. Your brain malfunctions when he lightly rests it beneath your chin and swipes a thumb over the outside of your lips. Pulling his hand back, you see remnants of the whipped cream you ate. 

Does this mean he...!? You repeat over and over in your head. The feeling of his touch lingers on your skin, tingling.

He grins at your dumbfounded expression, licking the cream off his thumb. “-here.”

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[odoraful]

𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬?

blade piques your auntie's interest when you visit her shop to run some errands.

content: blade x gn!reader; blade & reader are friends (they secretly like each other); a little humorous :) ; 723 words a/n: *drops my first hsr fic and runs away* i might write a part 2 resolving the shenanigans that occur here if there's enough interest!

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Blade had barely spoken a word this entire outing. Not that it was unusual for him, however, his wordless, watchful demeanour made every passer-by shrink away. It appeared to others that he was less of your friend and more of a guard dog. Despite the names of the Stellaron Hunters being cleared, just the sight of him with his stony stare was of automatic suspicion among the Xianzhou Loufu. 

He folded his arms and leaned against the side of the building, watching you converse warmly with a merchant selling metal working supplies. 

“An apprentice in the Artisanship Commission?” The merchant said in awe. “I remember when you were-” she placed a hand to the side of her hip, her voice dripping with fondness “-this big and dreaming about joining the commission, and look at you now!” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Blade saw the merchant lift a hand and ruffle your hair. Despite the slight resigned look on your face as you leaned into the touch, you still laughed. To see someone as capable as you be treated like a child was an intriguing sight. His gaze travelled from your upturned lips to your hand smoothing out your tousled hair. 

“Thank you, auntie. Expect me to visit you a lot more often nowadays.”

She tsked and squeezed your cheek. “Ai-yah, you should already be visiting me more.”

You noticeably grew bashful at her words. Luckily, your auntie’s disapproval vanished quickly. “Now you just hold tight, I know exactly what your junior apprentices need.” She crouched out of sight below the countertop and rummaged through the storage, the sound of tools clinked against each other. 

You turned towards Blade and gave a thumbs up with both hands. He acknowledged you with a single nod. The grin on your face was too bright, almost blinding. You turned back to speak with the merchant.

Blade stared at the back of your head. Your smile was gone too soon.

Despising the ache he felt, he shook his head, keeping those strange, simmering feelings within him at bay. 

“Boyfriend! Are you going to help carry this?” The merchant’s voice pierced through his musings.

Boyfriend...?

There was the tiniest waver in Blade's blank expression. He saw her gesture towards a wooden storage box on the counter, one hand on her hip. 

You collapsed onto the counter. “Aeons, you don’t have to yell out like that!” Your hands covered your reddening face. “And he’s not my boyfriend.” 

No matter how well one may hide it, family members had a heightened sense for when young people were in love. Highly amused by your reaction, your auntie pushed a little more.

“You know he’s watching you as if I’m going to steal you away or something.” She leaned in closer and mock whispered, “Is he one of these crazy possessive types?”

“Auntie!” Your eyes turned into saucers in shock. “He’s not.”

She lifted both her hands with a cheeky, knowing grin, as if to say ‘you don’t have to tell me, I already know.’

Blade was surprised at the familiarity of the look. It was one he often saw on Kafka, with her naturally sassy countenance. She had that exact knowing smile when she had asked him about the details of his sudden excursion during his downtime today. He angled himself off the wall to walk to your side.

“At least get to know his name, it’s Blade.” You said, firmly.

“Ohh Blade, huh?” The merchant’s critical eyes trailed up and down, assessing the man who had wooed her niece. “Hm…a tough guy name. What do you do?” 

“You are referring to my occupation?” Blade asked. 

Your auntie wasn’t expecting such a deep, gravelly voice that it made her physically jump. You scrambled to pick up the wooden box, heaving it into your arms. Blade head jerked to your movements in alarm. You tried to back away at a fast enough pace that etiquette would allow when exiting a conversation. 

“Thanks auntie, but we really need to go now. Love you!” You frantically gestured at Blade to follow. 

Your auntie bellowed with laughter. “Alright then, make sure you visit me again soon! You too Mr Blade!” She called out as you scurried across the market square. A puzzled Blade followed beside you, attempting to take the heavy box from your hands.

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