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lilimalia · 1 day ago

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PENPALS // alhaitham

SYNOPSIS... where a far overworked employee takes to participating in The Steambirds newest news program, 'Penpal System'. Only to fall horribly in love with your penpal buddy... who’s also someone you know?

CHARACTERS... alhaitham (al-haitham?), kaveh, sumeru npc's, nahida/kusanali, aether (traveller), 4ggrevate + more!

DISCLAIMERS... , female reader, 3.2 archon quest spoilers, small enemies to lovers, cursing, aether traveller, very nerdy + silly reader who is soo emotionally stunted, not proofread

BARISTA'S INTEL... posting this like a year after I pulled alhaitham during his first banner o7... Anyways this fanfic went through so many revisions I hope yall enjoy (alhaitham loml <3)

CAFE TUNE... love story // Indila

LETTER X: Promotion

Working with a boss who is self-sufficient and only prioritizes finishing his nine to five job may actually just kill you.

Even if he’s really, really, really, cute.

Ever since the "great all-mighty" Alhaitham and the hero nicknamed 'The Traveler' saved your "wonderful" Sumeru. A day with the notorious 'Acting Grand Scribe' of Sumeru's Akademiya typically goes like this;

You wake up from a half satisfying sleep, realizing you've once again spent your night face smushed across the hard cold wooden desks of The House of Daena's library. Students who had a life less toxicating then your own; stared, whispering a far bit louder then what they thought would be out of range. Your eyes droop in defeat, having given up frantically -well, to the onlookers, maniacally- explaining that your boss was an egotistical know-it-all that forced you to stay late nights. At some point, all reason to argue became needless months after serving as Alhaitham's secretary.

Staggering half-mindedly down the pavilion, Sumerian robes fluttering loosely around your body as you swipe them sleeves closer to your chest, you tilt your nose up to the aroma of fresh baking from the stalls below. A savory smell of spices licks at your senses as you wander closer to the trail of delectable food waiting for you. It barely takes more than a minute for you to come waddling into Lambad's Tavern

Your daily saving grace, as you peak through the windows, eyes shocking open.

Peering over the windows, you glance nervously side to side as you scour the filled tables for signs of silver flickering hair adorned with a snobby headset of golden. A relieving sigh flies past your lips when you find that no such person exists. At least... In the Tavern.

Although, a tall brunette man peers above the counters, wooden dishes in hand as he notices you. Chuckling knowingly as he serves his customers, watching you stalk his windows. Like a creep-

Goodness, sometimes you almost felt bad for Lambad...

Motioning for you to come in, relief overtakes as you stomp in satisfied, waving politely and flashing a sweet cheery smile at the regulars as you march towards Lambad's bulky figure, his muscles flexing as he waves happily.

"[Name]! It's been only half a day since your last visit! I trust you're still buried head to toe in paperwork? Come, have a seat!"

Graciously, he leans over the table, pulling out a barstool for you as he hunkers back, grabbing a bottle of something underneath.

"Archons grace, you're such a sweetheart Lambad... You're way too kind. You have no idea. Gods, sometimes, I don't even know if I'm dreaming or wide awake and still working this hellish job!! Pleaseee Lambad... You've have got to save me!" Rambling on and on, you thump on the stool, groaning instantly as you slump over the counter, stretching your hands over your face.

Pulling down your cheeks with your hands, a quiet dramatic sob leaves your drained face as you stare all sopping like at the man.

Pouring out a baby yellow drink out of the bottle, Lambad pushes forward a chilled glass, adorned with small chunks of Zaytun peaches. Your mopey eyes trail to the faint sweet smell, launching out to pull the drink in as you place your chin on it.

Ahh... Sweet refreshing cold.

"Oh wow... Sure sounds like you've been through a lot [Name]! Here, try this new peach lassi I came up with recently! It'll be sure to cheer up your stomach at the very least! We can't have Sumeru's best worker going around on an empty stomach now can we!"

Sipping at the drink, the smooth texture of the yogurt mixed drink softens down your throat. An icy touch following with as the sour sweetness beckons you.

Whenever hungry, overworked, and far to underpaid to give enough of a damn, you could always count on Lambad Tavern.

Lambad himself was so used to listening to your daily problems he'd had learn overtime how to soothe your bitter heart. A nice new treat and the bonus of a bar seat left you no room for complaint. Often, he'd make sure to leave a small key underneath a nearby bush, hidden safely in a stowed away box.

Months back, when your boss had first been appointed at his position, and those darn Akademiya scholars had deemed you the perfect candidate to be his dog, Lambad had requested the Kshahrewar Darshan students to craft a small box for the extra key. A distinctive little wooden keep, shaped like a leaf with several knobs pointing out like twigs. Upon his request, the darshan had taken extra care to make the box as interesting and interchangeable as possible.

It made for a good pass time as you spent dewy, chilled mornings, left locked outside your apartment (archons forbid you remember the akasha terminals password for it) as you spent your early hours spent on a bench. Leaning over your crossed legs, you'd nit-pick on the box for hours, fiddling with the pin tumblr locks as you held the box close. Listening for small clicks left behind as the springs allowed for one lock to unlock another.

Zoning back in, you come to notice the lack of sweet yogurt lassi left in your chilled glass. Droplets now trickling down the sides of your glass as they collect, condensation pooling over your stunned fingertips wrapped around from the time you spent spaced out.

"Are you back yet' scholar? You blanked out longer than usual this time around. Hey, you spent so long thinking about whatever caused you to mope this time around, that you forgot to even tell me!" Laughing hardily, Lambad swipes the glass from underneath your freezing hand. Glancing back questioningly.

Strange. You don't usually space out when you're around company.

"Sorry Lambad, I don't know what that was... I just- Well, it felt like I just got wisped away... Weird." Pulling back your hands, you palm over the residual water in your hand, wiping it away on the ends of your Sumerian robes, clothes taking on a darker tone from the soak.

"No problem, lady! It's alright, happens to the best of us. Hey, that does remind me of a story I've been hearing though! Lately, other adventurers and Akademiyian scholars have been boasting around..."

Leaning in over the counter, Lambad whispers, eyes narrowing they dart around nervously,

"I hear that Adventurer's Guild Katheryne has got her hands full with this new program. It's from Fontaine's Steambird! Called the 'Penpal Program'... Sounds fun doesn't it?"

"I- What does that have to do with anything just now! Lambad... Are you crazy?"

"No, no! Let me finish. What I'm saying is, folks have been so upset in their work they've been writing about it across seas to anonymous friends. I hear it wisps you away into your own little escape!" Chuckling, Lambad pulls back, reaching into yet another cabinet as he searches the crevices for something.

"So, you're just nuts... Great, my only genuine friend... Lost to weird media," letting out a sigh, you plop back down on the counter in defeat.

Maybe you really weren't salvageable... First the weird spiraling, and now this strange program.

"Aha! Found it! Here, just give it a try [Name]... I'm sure it won't hurt you! You could really use a friend that wasn't a tavern owner you know..." heaving out a pile of papers, throwing them down; a puff of dust erupts. Lambad reaches for the top paper as he passes you it, huffing as he reorganizes the rest somewhere deep in his storage.

"You know, I worry about you lady... Seems like all you've been doing the past couple of months is working your end off for Scribe Alhaitham!-"

"Sh, sh, sh! Stop! Don't! Do not say his name. Oh, so help me Archons-"

At some point during the long arduous navigation to becoming Alhaitham's secretary, a strange phenomenon found itself into your life.

Sadly, every time you or your friends had mentioned the annoyance of a man, it seemed he'd find his way into your conversation one way or another... Almost predictably.

In any case, it made for a horrible superstition that the mere mention of his name could even summon him. Making it almost impossible to carry your normal tangents about the woes you faced. The oh-so-treacherous life of a secretary under a selfish boss.

At your defense, you had learned soon enough to warn your friends of the weird illusion. Finding out that if you could just convince them to omit the use of 'his' nine letter name it would solve his convenient interruptions into your life. Archons, the lengths you would (and have) taken to ignore this mans absolute atrocious presence...

Unfortunately, that never was a foolproof plan.

"Sorry! Sorry! I apologize... Forgot about that weird notion of yours to for a second..." Chuckling nervously, Lambad looks around, leaning in close to whisper,

"He couldn't possibly be around at this hour though... Could he?"

Inching in closer yourself, you murmur;

"I promise you, he's everywhere. It's so creepy... you have no idea!... One time-"

"[Name]? Is that you? Does your shift not start at 9 o'clock on the dot at the Akademiya secretary?"

"Fucking shi-"

Jumping up from your seat, your hand slams violently onto the wooden table (ouch) as you hop haphazardly out of your stool.

Glaring at Lambad, you watch as he sheepishly backs away, happily taking to ignoring your stink eye as he hums over your menacing hate. Forcing you to turnback your attention to the (unfortunately) approaching silver haired man as he strides in full glory.

Alhaitham, the notorious boss.

The man who caused you great distress day and night as he looms over your scholarly papers that he pushed onto you. Taking to taunting you and criticizing your work as he knowingly clocks out at five pm on the dot.

God, even his stride and speech was tantalizing.

It took every flexed stiffened muscle in your body not to revolt and gag on reflex as your eye twitched.

"Oh!... Alhaitham sir!... How- cough- good to see you so early. Yes, I know when my shift starts sir. I was merely grabbing a treat before I went to slave away- I mean, work on the demands the Akademiya higher ups sent in last night." Are you being dramatic, maybe, perhaps even yes, gags ensue.

Perking up a questioning brow, his muscles flex as he pulls down the golden headphones that laid flat over his head. Silky smooth voice clear as he ignores your obvious frustration,

"Right. Well, be sure to come by my- our; office sometime during your shift. I've received peculiar news you may just want to listen to. If you're so willing..."

Everything about him speaks superiority over you, it's almost more irritating that he still insists on calling the office he'd obtain over his promotion "ours".

A small noticing you had gained as you listened to how silky his baritone voice was, projecting across any room in a great demand. A reeling pull that you couldn't let loose from your mind.

It never was clear why he insisted on claiming the office was both his and yours. After all, the large thing of a room was piled head to toe in work addressed to him, letters asking for him and his advice, gifts and bribes designated to partition his favor; not yours.

Shaking off the thought, you nod, knuckles tightened beneath your long robe sleeves as your jaw clenches.

"Right. I'll be sure to come by as soon as I finish my business here, sir."

With that, a small nod flicks his head as he turns, walking pridefully away without a single glance back, closing the door in triumph as you groan.

It haunts you, the way his voice rings through your head and whispers behind your back;

honeyed low, demanding.

...

When you arrive at the infamous office, exactly 10 minutes before your actual clock-in, it barely surprises you to find Alhaitham already refined and sipping on a mug of coffee.

His dreary eyes running over the latest edition of The Steambird as he ignores your entry.

Huffing, your own eyes roll over, used to his lack of acknowledgement as you take to waiting on the soft (oh so warm and comfy) couch in his office.

Puffing the pillow up, you plop exasperated on the inviting seat, making sure to irritate him with your loudness as you reach to grab a novel from the neighboring coffee table.

It takes a couple awkward minutes as you both sit in dissonance silence, both flipping through each others respective readings. A habitual dance that was often played until either you or him in his pride chose to cough artlessly.

This time, after finding his fill of the latest news, Alhaitham's cough rings through the silence. Your momentary peace, broken, as soon as it was obtained...

"Are you done with that novel? Come, we have important matters to work on and I'd rather not waste the rest of today lingering around."

Cold and harsh, you reply in return,

"Just hand over whatever it is you're pushing on me this time, archons, it isn't as if you'll actually work on anything that doesn't benefit your personal goals Alhaitham." A tsk leaves your lips, stomping up and over to his table angrily as you peer over his newspaper.

His irises pool in irritation as the greens of his eyes close, eyelashes following. Narrowing his eyes as he surveys you back, maintaining an unknown feeling between your connection of gaze.

As of late, many mornings were spent with moments such as this, awkward responses, short curt flickering stares of temperate interactions. Alhaitham remarking about some part of your "lack of efficiency" to which you'd reply with a snide off hand remark.

Looking into his eyes, it was almost tempting to leave their chokehold on you, a want to trail your eyes down his sharp jawline, the hallows of his neck, the curves of his muscles and collarbone down to where the black of his shirts fabric tightened, defining their shape.

It felt almost reachable.

Kissable.

An urge to kiss away that silly, vexing, knowing glare of his. The uncouth way he continues to stare, waiting for you to respond first. As if he wasn't the one constantly pushing you to your limit, killing your spirit with his very presence.

What would it take to wipe that cocky morality of his?

A kiss to his jaw? Or maybe right where his soft, supple looking skin meets with the fabric of his tight shirt? Or perhaps even the back of his neck, where you once noticed was covered with equally luscious hair, and wires that connected with his headpiece.

Woah.

Where did that come from? That's not right...

This is Alhaitham, scribe of the Akademiya, your employer.

The man you detested to see each and every day. So where did these sudden fantasizing thoughts come from?

"Tch, here, lately, the Akademiya has been writing to me about the work you have done for them. It seems the work you produce meets with their subpar expectations. Congrats. This is your notice of promotion and details of increased wage. Please, feel free to celebrate this... Achievement elsewhere. After, you have finished your shift."

A letter stamped with the markings of a green wax leaf pulls from the desk, held in the palm of his hand as he continues to stare.

All this time, Alhaitham continues to look into your eyes. Prying at your very heart.

"... Oh, t-thank you sir. I'll be sure to review this..."

Still thinking about that strange string of thoughts you had, relectantly, you grab at the letter. Pausing just short of his extended hand,

"Are you... Toying with me?"

"Huh? Are you so disbelieving that I could have supported this recommendation from the scholars? Do I seem like such a dimwitted employer to you?"

"No! No... You're right, never mind. Thank you Alhaitham... Sir."

His hand is cold as you grab at the letter, electricity shocks through your fingertips as they connected with his.

A tint of warmth tingles through your body, rushing out of his office without a second thought.

Nerves run hyperactive throughout your body as your stand, knees wobbling as your back presses against the large wooden doors.

Letter crumpled into your clammy hands, a strange fuzzy feeling bubbles.

His hands... Seemed inviting. But oh, the way he stared. His eyes, they felt so tender and fond as they glowed, looking at you longingly, or so you could name.

Could visions very well do that to a wielders eyes? Make them glow with an unnerving amount of affection?

Your palms continue to grow sweaty as you try to soothe your pacing heart, pulsing still zapping through every bone in your body. A strange uneasiness clouding your head.

It takes you several minutes stood outside his door, trying to comprehend what the strange fuzziness was, before you opened the letter.

At least, maybe the letter could bring some sense into your clouded judgement.

Indeed, inside of the letter contained faked sugary words as they lined the new contractual rules. A bunch of normal office regulations listing out alongside a congratulations as you finally skip to the bottom, seeing a place to sign. Besides lay the words "Administrative Assistant" bolded and in cursive. The combining of a very, very, long set of numbers attached to the title, issuing your new wage.

Oh, sweet archons, you’re going to be rich.

Letter I: Introductions

Lately, a strange new habit has intruded on his normal life.

He often finds himself thinking a little too long about a certain someone within his life. It frustrates him to no end, considering how much it plagues him and drives him away from pure concentration to get through his workload. Alhaitham ponders the possibility of divine interference, confused as he sips on his mug of coffee.

After watching you leave in a rush just the hour before, it oddly piques him how quick you were to run out after your promotion. Though he knows you hate his guts for some reason or another, a strange tingle tugged at his chest as he had watched you leave. Strangely, he could almost say the feeling was sadness.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the sad little feeling bubbling up in his pumping heart as he listened to the sound of your footsteps leaving without a second thought. How annoying.

You should at least have the decency to show your gratitude in front of him, instead of running away like he was the plague. Barely bothering to even smile at him when he had handed you the letter.

But... Your hands did feel nice against his own, a sharp zap of something eliciting through the mere touch you two had shared. He wishes that he could have been brave enough to grab at your hand, that weird tingly feeling of possessiveness as the thought of holding your hand twirled in his mind.

But only for a brief moment.

And there it is again- Moments like this were bizzare to him, for the past hour he had spent at his desk all he could think about was how your fingertips had grazed his own. An unusual sensation of what could only be described as joy as his mind danced around the idea of your hand in his.

A secondary thought of how confused you had seem peeks through, his eyes closing briefly as he tries to picture your face again. Rolling around the image of your confusion, hearing the saccharine tone of your voice thanking him as you had rushed out.

Was he really such a dreadful boss that a promotion seemed unlikely?

In any case, his eyes remain closed for a little longer, wrinkles adorned across his forehead as he tries to reimagine what he could have done wrong.

It's not as if he was some vile, inconsiderate man.

True, he had used the term 'dimwitted' and perhaps he had been known to be a little sharp tongued in the past. But it was all within sound reasoning. Right? …

Snapping out of his trance, his hand reaches for the tanned papers laid beside his mug. Bolden letters, inked in black, flowery design stretched out as it reads "Penpal Program ! hosted by The Steambird". Reviewing the contents of the column before placing his fingers around a random pen, itching to sign his name on the line. Perhaps taking the time to connect with people outside of simply you would anchor him back into reality. Anything that wasn't the constant cycle of you that replayed in his head.

It was unfortunate to say, but the amount of time he had lost in his work just thinking about what it would be like to spend his days with you really did affect his intellect more than he would like to admit. More unfortunate yet, even his 'friends' had taken notice. The bothersome room mate he housed, Kaveh, had found it amusing to make a game out of guessing what had gotten him so dazed as of late.

If it wasn't for the fact that sometimes, and only sometimes, Kaveh could offer decent advice, perhaps he wouldn't have considered the idea of figuring out one distraction with another... temporary one.

Afterall, why try and understand this vexing emotion when it would mean, he would have to confront you head on. Which sounds incredibly more irksome.

His room mate had been quick to point out this was not sound logic-

Kaveh did suggest, that perhaps Alhaitham could anonymously bring up this issue with a pen pal. A clean slate with no attachment to neither him or you, and could provide reasoning as to why he felt so... Unlike him. It would do him good to have someone to consult with, since, to his annoyance, Kaveh had stated he wasn't one to speak on his truths to anyone else, finding it annoying to deal with people in real life.

In his moment of brief intelligence, Alhaitham remembers him bringing up the mention that journalling and writing letters was a scientifically proven method of narrowing down how one feels. A key part that could help Alhaitham get to the bottom of his trance.

Though it peeved him that the blonde had been right, it was a good idea to journal his thoughts. It was simply a bonus that he would be receiving live feedback. Not that he would need it. Certainly, after taking some time to think it through these symptoms, it would obviously turn out to be he was right, and these feelings of butterflies were absolutely nothing at all.

Yet, fleeting memories of your face flash in his mind. Uncontrollable as he signs his name on the small contract slip below the newspaper. Thinking to himself how enchanting it would be to understand you. To peer into your vast thoughts, wondering if you too, ever contemplated him. Ever noticed him.

After spending nearly an hour ranting on to Lambad about your new promotion and massive paycheck, you find yourself in the establishment again, dwelling over a new dilemma.

Sitting on a stool in the Lambad Tavern once more, the lights flicker softly. Looking outside, the sky envelopes in a dark night. A chill breezing past your ankles as you scribble. The tiny noise of scratches and cups clinkering in the background as you squint your eyes.

Lambad peers over your shoulder, plates and cups alike stacked high on plates as his muscles flex to balance them. Raising a brow he looks curiously at the segment asking for your origins.

'Hello Participant! The SteamBird welcomes you to our new program. As of the new Inazuma border opening, our catalog figured it was time to branch out and bring together the people of Tevyat!

For suspenseful purposes, participants will not be allowed to reveal their true name. Keeping it a secret will be more exciting for both sides, don’t you think?

Below please list: age, gender, place of birth, and address for delivery.’

In your messy handwriting, out laid the letters spelling out the name of the nation of freedom.

"Mondstadt? I didn't realize you weren't native to Sumeru [Name]! Gosh... I have so many memories from sailing to Mondstadt. Tell me, did you move to Sumeru for your academics?"

It had been so long since you had been back to Mondstadt, having lived in Sumeru throughout your teen years, that the habit of writing it for documents was the bare minimum of what was Mondstadt-like.

"Oh! Yes, I did move here for the Akademiya. Actually, I left the nation so long ago I barely even remember what it was like..."

"Really? Well that's mighty interesting! Hey, you should write that on your first letter! I'm sure your pen pal would love to hear about that little journey!"

"Huh, wait. You're right, that is a good idea... Thanks."

Tilting your head, you laze over the blank piece of paper. The newsletter for the sign up stuffed to the side of the bar table as you glare at the letter.

Sigh, and so the writers block.

Existential dread looms over your head as you glare harder at the letter. Maybe, if you stare long enough at the paper it'll write itself.

It takes you eons to adjust, shifting in your seat as you tune out the sound of clinking dishes in the background. Your pen tapping just over the paper in essence as you try to scour for something to start with. In final, you decide on the simple message of hello and a few follow up questions,

'Hello friend! This is your exchange penpal, [alias]!

Nice to meet you. How are you doing? I hope for your sake you're doing well!

As an ice breaker, here's the basics on me, your pen pal. I am originally from Mondstadt, I'm a scholar, and I work tirelessly because my stupid boss thinks he can shove all his "lesser" work on me! Honestly, I moved from Mondstadt a long while ago to pursue a degree under the Haravatat Darshan... But it's been an upward battle ever since I was recommended (well actually, volen-told) to become the second hand for my department. Sorry, you're going to hear a lot about this boss... Unfortunately, he is a pestering constant in my life. Honestly, this would all be fixed if he was just a bit more understanding... Or maybe even used his annoying voice to communicate! It would be great if you had advice on how to get rid of him. Preferably in a corporate fashion, but I don't expect that at all! But enough about my silly world, who are you?

What do you do pen pal? Where are you from? What is your favorite subject to gloss over? Do you also suffer from daily troubles? Do you have any interest in studies or are you more of a physical person? That's totally cool too!

I'm not sure what else to write, but here's a fun fact? Maybe this can be our little thing!

Did you know, the first ever gear was created out of wood? At some point, a nation decided to use it for windmills and waterwheels. Though Tevyatian history doesn't really define where it originated, I've always considered the true contender as my home town! Mondstadt is so full of breezy winds and windmills it would be hard to think otherwise. '

Yours truly, [alias] :)

Adding on between the lines, your fingers release from the pen, stretching out instinctively before folding the letter, all marked with messy, clearly annoyed handwriting, before bringing the lip of the matching envelope to your tongue.

Carefully sliding the letter into casing, you grin with a thumbs up towards Lambad, who watches you in proud fondness. Returning the thumbs up, you skid the chair back, packing your stuff away quickly as you shove both the letter and the promotion letter into your pockets. Without a second glance back, you skip gleefully towards Katheryne's Adventurer's Guild.

Mid way, in all your excitement from finishing the days work, a part of your shoe catches in an uneven part of the road. In a moment, your whole body tilts, sending you crashing down in surprise.

...

You never touched the ground.

But, when you open your closed eyes, wincing for impact, your faced completely upright.

Not a single bruise nor scratch. Completely standing still as if you hadn't almost made a show out of your clumsy self.

"Oh! Are you alright? I hope you aren't hurt!" a small, child-like giggle.

Where is it coming from? Are you hallucinating?...

Maybe the excitement has gone to your head. Whipping your head around, you see no one. Not a single soul. Only the flickering yellow lamps as they illuminate the path in front of you, highlighting the stupid little dent in the road that had almost tripped you.

But still, not a single person, only a faint giggle that echoes in your ear in a whisper.

Strange...

Rubbing your eyes, you shake your head again. Looking around one more time in awe, trying to adjust your eyes in hopes of seeing whoever- whatever- was speaking to you. It takes seconds as you stand still, scanning your surroundings for any little detail.

Nothing but a small green leaf floats around.

Before long, you're scratching at your eyes again, pulling at your ears just to check if you were dreaming. You weren't, but still, an uneasy nerve sends a shiver down your spine. Urging you quickly to run towards the Adventerer's Guild to submit your letter.

It takes less than a minute to throw your short letter on the pile stacked on the counter. Scurrying off before that creepy child voice comes back and really proves you're crazy.

Stranger yet, the faint image of Alhaitham floats in your head, his blank expression bringing a sort of comforting solace in your head as you mad dash towards your apartment.

LETTER II + III: Personality (or lack thereof?)

When Alhaitham arrives home, the click of the door alerts a certain irritable blonde of his entry. A small tch leaves his lips as Kaveh furiously runs up to him, not a moment to spare between.

"Where have you been?! You took way too long, I almost died of anticipation!"

"Hmph. I was conducting business as usual, you would understand if you knew what it was like to maintain a constant job-"

"Why you! How dare you! You and I both know that I maintain everything in this house day and night!! Oh never mind that- Look, I got the letter for you from that Steambird catalog! Isn't this great?!" His face flushed red from exasperation, Kaveh practically pounces on Alhaitham, flailing the cream envelop, marked with a cute little wax stamp of flowers. Jumping up and down in excitement Kaveh pushes Alhaitham out of the door way. Too impatient to hear his response, instead taking to pushing him down onto the living room coach, shoving the letter into his hands.

"Are you perhaps concussed? It is merely a letter of simple exchange, why exactly are you so impressed Kaveh? Or is it that even bare socialite activities are foreign to you." Sneering playfully, Alhaitham's eyes glint with superiority as he looks at Kaveh, whose leg was practically bouncing in anticipation.

"Just- Why just open it! I want to know all about the unfortunate man-or women, who had to be partnered with you!"

It takes several minutes to settle his room mate down, much to his annoyance. Before ripping the envelope open to read your letter, admittedly, there was a twinge of hopefulness in his heart when the sight of blackened handwriting appeared out of the opening.

...

"Oh, sweet Celestia, they're relatable! And friendly too! Thank goodness for that!" Kaveh sighs in relief, taking the letter out of Alhaitham's hand to read over again at your letter. In his face a smile of childlike wonder as he considered the contents. Somewhere in his mind, he was grateful that the person wasn't some random old man... But rather someone who seemed to relate to his own situation and seemed quite young.

"Wasn't the point of coercing me into this... Silly letter exchange because you wanted me to get to know people and give perspective to my issues? This seems more like your own exchange rather than mine Kaveh." Sighing, Alhaitham yanks back the letter in force, glossing over its contents.

"Huhh?! You are so-... Okay yes- Fine! It was, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the experience with you. But... Come to think of it, you do need to write a response letter to them. Afterall, they seem friendly enough, and archons forbid you mess up this befriending too because of your pestering cockiness!"

"That is not true- I simply am-"

"Up up up! Shh. I do not trust the likes of you Alhaitham. So, as the most forgiving and kindhearted friend I am, I will help you give them in advice in return! Afterall, an annoying boss is probably not something you can relate to, can you." Snickering to himself, Kaveh quickly whips out a pen and paper, slamming it on the table in triumph.

"It seems like their problems are issues caused by their own neglect of setting boundaries. In fact, I truly believe I could come up with better advice then whatever you may have to offer. It would be so much easier if they would just try to avoid contact with their boss unless necessary."

"I cannot even believe you said that out loud. Never mind, you really do need help."

...

Within two exhausting work nights, an answer comes in the mail. Surprisingly fast for an international event. In anticipation, you rip open the nearly folded envelope, the postal stamp covered, hidden from any snooping. Unfortunately.

‘Hello [alias]. It is a pleasure to meet you.

For the purposes of our little exchange, you may refer to me as “σοφός(Sophós)”. I am not one for small talk, so I’d like to get through these formalities quickly.

As for my current occupation, I am currently an acting... (the hand writing darkens here, almost as if the writer paused to consider before continuing) manager for my workplace. It is rather easy if I may express. Many of the workers that interact with are simple in mind and can for the most part, handle themselves. Leading on, in response to where I am from, I choose to keep that confidential.

After all, did this program not specifically request us to hide or names as to add on to the suspense of interacting with an anonymous person?

It seems you failed to read clearly through the intentions of this program. It is alright however, that is an overlooking on your part which I will look over.

Moving on from this, I particularly enjoy reading long complex books which others cannot understand. I do not hold any preference towards what these novels may contain. However, often I find myself reading on the mechanisms of products more often than others. Privy to your Darshan if I must identify. Reading this, I think you can infer I am someone who enjoys academic knowledge rather than physical prowess. This would be an astute assumption as I am more often than not, researching and accompanied with a piece of literature at all times.

Of all your questions, I did save this for last, as I unfortunately find myself depending on a bit of outside advice. This is much to my own dismay, as I am always a person of rationale.

In the past months, I’ve found a strange phenomenon happening in the region where my heart lies. Whenever I meet with this coworker of mine, just seeing them sends this… Incomprehensible wave of pulses, they are uneven and not the usual beats per minute that my cardiovascular system would sustain.

It is also strange that alongside this symptom, I fail to focus on my perfect nine to five routine. Often, I find myself unwillingly dozing off, abnormal memories haunt me while doing so. Worse yet, these symptoms have also affected my [insert smart word for good brain] as I cannot focus and feel often lightheaded without a sensible pattern of reason why.

Now, it could be that these are physical issues that must be addressed by a professional, but I have reason to believe otherwise. Say [fake name] what is your insight on this dilemma? I would appreciate any thoughts you may have to give.

In appreciation for your counselling as for the spirit of this literary exchange, here is a fact about orthography. Of the undefined origins, researchers have suggested the reason that different nations of Teyvat write from left or right or vice versa could be cause of the material our ancestors once used to write. Example wise, how ink would drip down scrolls, so they needed time to dry. Afterall, our population has always been privy to dextrality. If Inazuman's wrote from right to left, the ink they used would have smudged under their clothes. Thus, leading to the change of writing furthest away to adhere to this problem.

It is a pleasure to work with you,

Signed, σοφός'

Wow, as much as life had taught you not to judge by first impressions, it was quite hard not to.

The letter you had received in turn felt very abnormally. Cocky. In a way, maybe it bothered you a bit more than it should have, but the way 'Sophós' wrote out their letter reminded you of a someone. So incredibly like someone and yet you couldn't put your finger on it.

The way they wrote though, was nonetheless entertaining, it was almost as if they were a shut in. And though judgement was not one of your mottos, it was honestly kind of cute how they seemed stiffened to write to someone. Honestly, it was surprising how it didn't provoke you. Thinking about it, a sudden realization comes to your head-

Aww- how sweet. It seems like your pen pal is inexperienced in the world of sociability. they were struggling with romantic feelings. Boy, was it hilariously dense for someone who seemed very smart.

Of course, it had taken you a moment too to realize what their symptoms were. But, for obvious signs of puppy love it felt so amusing to read about the tea. Heh, even the description of it all was so first love coded. To a tea. All covered under the guise of intelligence and yet your pen pal was reallyyy dense.

It doesn't take long before your quick to cozy up on your bed, a book on your lap as a surface to write on, as you click your pen. Looking down as you scrunch your face in concentration, giggling a little inside. (Maybe the interaction was healing a bit of the teenage girl you had burnt out years ago)

'Dear Sophós,

Wow! It sounds like you've got quite the life. Does it ever get boring? I sure wish I could be there in your position... A nice relaxing managerial job would make me feel so much better. Imagine the benefits! Unless of course, your coworkers are horrible and don't cooperate. But yours do so that's awesome!

Anyways, about your- as you said "cardiovascular" problems and memory issues. Fear not! I think you're just suffering under the common ailment of your "first ever crush"! Which is superr (you had made sure to bolden your words with several exclamation marks) cool! It's of course, nothing to be embarrassed about and it's totally normal!

I won't pry, considering this is all you asked for, but this isn't something you need to go to the doctors about! So don't worry. But crushes like yours have drastic differences in symptoms. I'm guessing yours has just begun to develop? Be careful! This illness can take down even some of the strongest! (a joking winking face follows suit)

If you want advice, I'd say just go with the flow! Do whatever you've been doing up to now, but hey, if this person you're crushing on seems to have flushed cheeks, or maybe suspicious behavior towards you to, that could be a sign of shared liking?

That's honestly all I can say... Not really someone who grew up involved in this! Still, a lot of good advice can be found in Inazuman novels! If you really want to move forward with this, read up on some of the weekly top choices for their romance novels!

Best of luck, just remember, consent is always key! Don't pressure whoever it is, give them space, but show your interest in small gestures! Maybe... like doing stuff for them? It's always nice to receive gestures from people :) whether it be gifts or freed up work!

Your awesome wingman, [alias]'

P.S Fontaine's leisurely otters will hold hands when they sleep so they don't drift off from each other! They also sleep on beds of native marine plants like we do on mattresses.

...

'Greetings [alias],

This is a very peculiar variable to reconsider into my life. Indeed, I fail to distinguish if this... Crush is a benefit for me or a burden. Can it be both? What do you think? On one hand, they motivate me to arrive at this hole of a job, but on the other, they seem to distract me from my duties as a manager of sorts. Perhaps, I could utilize these emotions to do otherwise?... I will have to research into this. It peeves me that a person such as I am struggling with these inexplicable feelings. However, now that I have solved the root of my symptoms, I feel as though I can properly move forward and decide from here.

I appreciate your help [alias]. In return, as for your qualms. Perhaps it would be best to consider that your boss is always going to be a constant. I think it is best to try and not dwell on what you can't fix and instead work on what you can do. For example, refusing to do work outside of the office, perhaps even coming in early to work with other workers to finish the days load.

This is all the advice I could offer, I find it quite difficult to relate to this situation, so I hope this suffices. I know you will be okay, simply try to remain above the average work and get caught up on what you are doing and beyond.

As for a fact, several of the fruits from native nations have been a biproduct of human trading. The revered sweet tangy peaches of Sumeru are actually native to the Liyue region, having been brought over a long time ago.

Much appreciated, σοφός'

Upon receiving the letter, a chuckle escaped your lips. Smiling at the sheer idiocy of the letter, almost dumbfounded at how obviously entrapped your pen pal was with their crush.

Perhaps this program was more interesting than any sort of office life drama.

...

Smiling to yourself at their feigned confidence, it wasn't surprising to you found yourself re-reading the letter you had recieved on the way to the office. (To think a new friend to bother was all it took for you to feel better about yourself)

Maybe staying up late to continuing to write letters back and forth between your pen pal was a stretch, but it did excite you. And the darkening of your eye bags was barely noticeable as your mood brightened by every interaction.

Although it was strange at how quick the mailing was to you still, you had come to terms with the fact that it benefitted you in talking with your new friend.

And of course, you had taken your friends advice very seriously. Out of respect for their help.

Still giddy at the thought of your letters, the clicking of your shoes against the marble rang a warning bell to your coworkers, all at their usual buzz as they stared. Of all mornings, today their whispers seemed even more noticeable to you. All of them murmuring under hushed turned heads about the smile you held walking. A curious comment caught from one conversation to the next, wondering why you were suddenly so cheerful as if your boss wasn't the debby downer Al Haitham.

This time, it didn't bother you at all. Instead, you found yourself even waving at your friendlier coworkers, greeting them happily as if this were a normal morning. Not even the thought of Al Haitham could bring you down from your new friend. The perfect pick me up following your new gigantic paycheck.

Dumbfounded, the gathering Sumerian scholars begin to fade out, returning your warm greetings as they scampered. Better not to ruin your cheery mood they feared. For the past weeks, they had found you abnormally happy, even to meet Alhaitham.

A melody humming from your lips, your fingers fiddle over the corner of the envelope, sealing the precious letter. Finding a giddy joy in a new friend you could console in and gossip with as you march up into Alhaitham's office.

Bursting in, your voice thunders out,

"Hellooo Sumeru! How are you sir? What needs to be done today Alhaitham? Hey,

"Stop. Wait [Name]." Alhaitham stands abruptly from his seat, raising a hand to pause you as you shut up immediately. Eyes widening as you took a deep breath of air.

Almost hesitantly, his hand drops to your shoulder, patting it, weirdly.

(Honestly it felt very nice to have that closure, but he doesn't need to know that)

His hand takes to guiding you to the coach, the one you often found yourself waiting on as he took his time finishing his morning newspaper.

Speaking of which, where was the newspaper? He wasn't laid back in his chair like usually reading it when you walked in, was he?

Plopping you down on the couch oh it's soft AND comfy-

"You... Seem out of it lately. For the past week, I have observed changes in your work behavior."

His voice (but mostly the soft... comfy... cozy couch) really did soothe you away from any argument.

"What is unusual for me is that you have been ahead of even me in our work. Every day I return to this office, I find that another scholar rushes in to give me more paperwork as typically instructed by the higher ups, only to atypically come back within the next day to see all my extra work gone"

Silence rings.

"Rightt...? Well, sorry if it bothered you Hai- Sir. I've been coming in early every morning to finish it. That way I don't have to stay late and you don't have anything to complain- ahem- I mean worry about," a lazy smile spreads across your lips as you drowsily glance up at Alhaitham. (That lack of sleep was hitting now)

His body looms over the back of the coach, broad shoulder bulging a little much as he crosses his arms. Glaring at you with an interested brow.

"Really? Is that so?"

(Something about a man with his muscles and his voice saying that to you did things they shouldn't do)

Every vein across his arms flexed a bit as he shuffled to ask, muscles flexing at every move, defined under the morning light peering from the window behind him. His silver hair reflecting god-like down on you as you continued to lean your head back, pulling into him until he leg was just barely making contact with the back of your head. The bare touch sending a heat towards your head that was utterly suffocating.

Laying like that, you could see the way his Adams apple moved delicately as he breathed, the way his eyes mirrored shades of greens to greys when the shadows moved.

A lazy, serene tension laid thick as thieves between the two of you.

Not uncomfortable you'd like to add, but sweet. As he stared it felt almost as if you could see his eyes shifting. From that stern scolding look, to, as seconds passed; soft, relaxing, worried, a dotting love somewhere in that sea of feigned control.

"Tch. Perhaps it would be wise to consider that work is not a mandatory activity outside of your assigned hours [Name]. Afterall, you just received that promotion bonus, what use is there in overworking yourself more than necessary?"

His voice turns slow, calculating, the same as his eyes when he looks at you, his whole body seemingly turns light as he stares. The way he looks at you now, you could have sworn you had him like honey in your hands.

Carefully, not waiting for your response, he moves to tuck back a piece of your hair that had strayed from the rest.

His fingers again, felt light, but home on your skin as they sent fluttering heat towards everywhere they touched.

Lingering to cup your forehead, and then your cheek, his eyes still watching in absolute infatuation, they fit perfectly against your face. Molding there like they were meant to be.

Gentle, inviting gestures of physical touch.

"As an official assignment as your acting sage, I am asking you to rest here until I return from an errand. Do you understand?"

"Mmm..." It was quite hard to protest when you could barely even find the will to keep your eyes open to look back at him.

Your head drops from it's stretched position, your body snuggling closer into the couch. Your eyes are starting to drift to a close, fluttering shut as his hand combes through your hair. Delicately pulling through where it could and letting go to return to your head. The whole motion setting you up for deep, deep, uncontrollable drowsiness.

By now, the morning sun had risen above Alhaitham's head, it's tender warmth cuddling to you as a blanket of sorts. The whole set up felt almost- no, was perfect for a reenergizing nap.

One that was well deserved you thought..

Blinking in intervals as you felt the warmth of his hands leave briefly. Quietly, a pressure draws over your lap, maybe a blanket? Who could tell.

His hands return to comb through your hair, still sending their tingling heat throughout your body as you murmured.

"Mmm, sleep well... [Name]"

...

Walking back to his desk, Alhaitham finds a sense of calmness eroding away at his pacing heart.

Just watching you stare up at him, doe like eyes following his hands like butterflies to milkweed. The very sight almost brought him to his knees. For a man made of a steel core, he's never once felt the way he did when you stared at him, looking back at him as if he was the only one in the world.

By gods, you made him feel so alive.

The way his heart raced was unlike anything else he's ever felt. The blood rushing to his head and without thinking, he was already reaching out, caressing your cheek gently with one hand, gripping the back of the chair with his other.

Sinfully, he wasn't sure if he could have handled holding the whole of you in both of his hands in that moment. Everything about you made him quake in his shoes, his body always felt so light. The scene replays in his head.

The every aching moment he spent, gripping at the back of the chair, careful not to disturb you, thinking how horrible of a man he had. Where was all his self control now?

All he wanted was to hold you. Grab you by the cheeks, but oh, so carefully, so preciously, because he couldn't ever think of hurting you. Gods no.

In the back of his mind, Alhaitham could only think, in a sliver of his mind, were the archons testing him? Begging in his core, the very urge to kiss you. Shower you in affection, hold you so dearly in his arms as he would feel you melt into him.

You were just so... Much.

The most he ever wanted.

Looking down at his desk, he grabs at the torn open letter, on top, a pinned checklist. Vaguely, the makings of your handwriting lay on top of the smooth paper.

Except, stapled to it, a checklist, small but noticeable in a light green color, written out in his writing.

How to win her over:

-Be consensual, but always remember consent

-Do stuff for her (Possibly lighten her workload?... She has been doing much as of late.)

-Read more romance novels. (A lot of this male love interests seem to give things with meaning, flower language and such. Perhaps a bouquet? Would she even like that?)

Staring at his checklist, he promptly scratched out the third item of the list. A flushing pink spreading throughout his body, palms unusually sweaty as he could feel his body heating up.

Gods, he was smitten. And it was all your fault.

Stuffing the checklist and letter into his pockets, he found himself stomping out, embarrassed at his flushed face. He'd be sure to not meet Kaveh on the way out, the architect would simply make a whole parade of it.

Stumbling out of his office, he miraculously found it in him to resume his stoic face, carefully closing the door as to not wake you.

He looks back one more time as the image of you floats in his head. This time, it comes with a smile.

...

The House of Daena remains to be the sole place Alhaitham finds enjoyable.

Having just walked out, a stack of book carries between his arms, light in his grasps. Before he could rush back to the office however, he finds a blonde (thankfully not Kaveh), a fairy, and Nahida, walking towards him.

"Alhaitham! Hello! How is the Acting Grand Sage doing? Wowee! It's been a while since we've seen you! What'cha up too?"

The voice of the floating little Paimon rapidly approuches, following behind the traveler waves, quiet as ever.

Tailing behind, Lesser Lord Kusanali follows, bumbling with a sweet smile as always.

"Hello Paimon, Traveller, Lesser Lord Kusanali I am more than well thank you. I was on my way back to the office actually. Coincidently, I am not off of work yet as it is still within my work hours. I was simply checking out books for... a coworker." Shifting to his side, he hides the title of his novels pressed to his leg. Carefully trying to keep hidden the titles and clear images of light colors, pictures of illustrated fictional characters holding each other. The titles even more evidence that they were in fact romance novels.

"That sounds wonderful! But please, we're long time friends now! You don't have to call me Lesser Lord. It feels... Well, ehe, unusual for what we've gone through"

"Paimon agrees, you don't have to worry about formalities like that Alhaitham!" Paimon laughs.

"We're all friends here aren't we? Your too stiff sometimes hehe... But! Anyways, those books look interesting. What are they about?" Peeps Nahida, her cheery tone matching exactly the way she looked, Alhaitham thought. Cheery, bright, and decorated with various Sumerian leaves.

His breath hitches, "Hmm. They aren't anything of interest. In fact, they're quite confidential for their intended purposes. Actually, I really must get these back to my coworker."

"Aww... Really? Darn! Well, since you're on your way back to the office, why don't the three of us all come down there with you? It'll be fun to catch up on your life Alhaitham! Maybe we can even say hi to Kaveh on the way!"

A breath of exhaust leaves his lips.

"We won't bother you too much! It would be so very interesting to see what you do Alhaitham" Nahida's voice pops in, traveller nodding along as the two press on. All three of them pushing into him, eyes glowing in curiosity. (Would it be a divine offense to reject a gods request?... Tempting.)

"Prettyy please? Oh grand acting sage sir?"

It seems his work evening would be lasting longer than he assumed. It also didn't seem like the three of them would give in anytime soon. Rather than later, he'd appreciate getting back to you before you woke up and started working again before he could say no.

Out of all his options, unfortunately, it seemed he would have to bring the lot with him.

"Huff, fine. But you have no need to call me grand acting sage. And do be mindful and quiet when you enter. I have a guest in my office who I urgently must tend too."

Before Paimon could open her mouth, Alhaitham made sure to turn quick on his heels and start speed walking towards his office. But even that was not enough to stop Paimon from asking questions of the guest, who it was, and if they were important to him or not.

The poor traveler had to keep holding Paimon back, threatening to eat her as dinner if she didn't hush up.

...

When you woke up, your body well rested, an eerie feeling followed suit.

"Holy shit."

Almost immediately after gaining full conscious, all of what had happened replayed in your mind. Painfully tracing over every single detail.

The way his hands had caressed your face.

Oh, great archons be damned.

Your fingers ran through your hair, pulling at it as you squealed into the nearest pillow. Absolute regret pulsing through your head as you remember how soft he had held you just hours before. Almost choking you in a burning heat that blew up in your face. Over and over you re-imagine it. Tenderly touching your own fingers to the places, he had caressed, longing for strange closeness again.

Footsteps gradually approach the grand doors.

"Shh... Please be wary of your voices. My secretary is asleep in my office as of currently."

The familiar deep voice of Alhaitham's rings out behind the door, muffled but still audible to your ears. The heat burns as fast as your heart's beat.

"Are we bothering them? We can always leave Alhaitham..."

A voice, deeper in tone, yet not one you remember, speaks up. Right as the door creaks open and Alhaitham peers in cautiously. Eyes narrowing in on you.

His stare stills you cold.

"Ah... It appears that she's already woken up. Never mind then, it'll be fine Traveler, come on in you all."

By the sound of his voice, and the slight twitch of his lips, you couldn't tell if he was bothered by the company or if he was enjoying himself.

It was a bit of place, watching as a young blonde man, hair beautifully braided back and adorned with simple clothes walked in, a nervous tap to his steps. Following suit... A very bouncy fairy? And a young girl? Adorably, she pokes her head first by the crack of the door, before seeing you and smiling brightly, feeling confident enough to skip in.

What strange company for Alhaitham. Admittedly, you never once thought to dwell in Alhaitham's personal relationships. You were always so busy finding him hateful and prude to notice if he had any actual connections with people aside from you and the workplace. It was quite the sight to see his assumed friends to be two younger children and a foreigner by the looks of it.

Alhaitham motions for the guests to take a seat on the opposing sides of you. Finding his way over to sit beside the man he called 'Traveler'.

A bit of your heart drops.

The whole couch was empty except for you, the couch he was sitting on with the Traveler was even more cramped then if he had sat with you.

(It's nothing, right? Immature noticing's is all)

"Well, Traveler, Paimon, Lesser Lord- ahem, Nahida, I suppose I should introduce you to my second hand, this is [Name]. An employee personally appointed by the Haravatat Darshan. They have... cough, well, been a great help to me."

"Oooh! Hello [Name]! Wow... Paimon's never heard Alhaitham compliment anyone before! You must be some sort of superhero! Paimon is pleased to meet you!" It takes only a blink for the squeaky fairy to get up in your face, zooming circles around your head as she studies your face curiously, a finger at her lip as she looks.

"I um- Thank you! I try my best really... It's a pleasure to meet you too Paimon. As for you Traveler! Are you the same Traveler everyone else has been gossiping about? Wow... It must be really tiring to travel around the nation like you do!"

"Oh, you don't need to flatter. Thank you, I try. I'm sure you must do a great amount to for Alhaitham. He is well... A very studious worker" Traveler nods, smiling as he turns to Alhaitham. The two sharing a secretive look.

Moments pass on, light conversation flowing between the five of you. The traveler and his friend bombarding you about all that you do. Wondering about your interests in mechanics, curious of your life's story.

Occasionally, the sweet young girl Nahida would butt in, asking about your thoughts the more obscure matters of the latest mechanical developments. 'What do you think of transversal waves Ms. [Name]? Have you ever thought about applying them too...' It surprised you how knowledgeable she was about mechanical waves and even beyond. Deep, thoughtful theories passing between you and her, a common connection you found, was that she often wondered about the makings of mechanical wears. It was nice, pleasant to feel welcomed after the momentary bitterness you felt. (It still lingered, but you found yourself dismissing it as childish.)

Alhaitham and Traveler seemed well content talking amoungst themselves of... Adventures. Something you never once knew about Alhaitham. Never would you have thought he was a man of travelling. Though it was common for Akademiya students to be well-rounded in every field, it left you a bit hollow that this fact had been hidden from you.

As the hour passed, it only grew. The silly backhanded thoughts in your mind. 'Who are they talking about?'.

'I've never knew his break from work was because of the Traveler...'

'Why is it so easy for them to talk to eachother?'

It was hard for you to wrap your head around their conversation. Passing phrases like foreign language to you. How was it they seemed smarter then you? Why did it seem they had known each other forever? What was it about their allure that made them so easy to feel frustrated for?

By the closing second, as much as you tried to listen to Nahida's remarks you could barely stop the way your eyes unwillingly travelled back to the way the two sat with each other. The pressed down cushions beneath them caving in, pushing their bodies towards eachother.

They seemed to know everything about him. More than you had ever gotten to ask him about. They knew about what he did in his free time... The things he hated. The books he reads. Especially the studies he liked talking about.

Why does your stomach feel funny? Your heart just minutes ago was beating far past its average rate, but watching the way Traveler and Alhaitham sat close had dropped it to a cold, fearful low.

An awkward silence passes between the room, your eyes to busy fixating on the way Alhaitham didn't bother to scoot away from the unnerving touch of bare fingertips.

Suddenly it feels a little too real all over again.

You knew this feeling. The dead pit way your stomach felt empty. The way your head felt numb, the way your heart stung. A dark, selfish, want bubbling in the place you held Alhaitham dear.

Being from a school of top-academics, it was expected from all the students to feel the inevitable complex about each other. The one they labelled the "inferiority complex". A hidden part of the system everyone ignored. A deep, pushed down hatred the scholars would often feel.

As successful as your life had been academically, never once had you learned how to deal with it.

The drowning thoughts that took over, telling you that everything you ever strived for wasn't enough.

There are smarter people.

A breath sucks through your teeth.

There are people with more awards.

You breath it back out.

There are people who have gotten visions, divined and noticed by gods.

Your mind fuzzes.

There are people, who are simply just better.

The air feels cold.

In truth, it was never explained to you how to defeat this dragon. This terrifying beast that told you things you knew somewhere in there was wrong.

Your worth shouldn't be compared to different situations.

You knew better.

Your worth isn't determined by the quality of your work.

You wanted to believe.

But every striving student feels the pain of being casted aside. Outshined by another child's brilliance. Their more outstanding grades, their more outstanding test scores, their more outstanding glow.

The Akademiya was no place for the weak minded. Not when there was so much to accomplish and so much more to prove. When put in a palace of the talent, you felt talentless. But it was never like it wasn't your only struggle. Other problems came along, and they fought with you, and they tugged at your heartstring and your mind, but in the end, your value in comparison, your life, and your inferiority were the one thing that stayed constant.

Maybe that was why, when he had shown up in your life for the first time, you found your aged wine, mulled with the crushed fruits bared from your nights of overwork, from what ifs, poured on top of his silky grey hair. Until it eventually soaked him, and all you could do was take of your shoes. Stepping over those same fruits, working over and over, day and night, crushing the new wine, all to pour back on his head.

And yet he still outshined your efforts.

Sitting on top of his throne of amaryllis. Glowing in color, brightening his everlasting superiority.

And yet your dry, mulled fruits, remained sad in color.

Comparison.

A part of you remembers when he had first walked into your life. A blooming young student you were, always outdoing the rest. Your every waking hour was spent on wishing for the wonderful, for true greatness. Ingenius discoveries and more.

But the moment he had taken your seat upon the throne, the fruits below had dimmed in color.

Yes, Alhaitham had always been as glorious as he was now. Everlasting genius he was. He sparked a flame in you to improve, to be better, to never fall behind.

But never once had he taken a notice to you. Never once had you found him talking to you. Instead, the months would pass by, and you would never once catch up again.

Every, single, class and award, he took rightfully his.

Stone cold face peering down at the shining medallions, a scoff upon his perfectly smooth and youthful face, before walking off stage, leaving you to take the ranks of fourth or fifth.

No matter what you did, he never did realize you were a competitor.

Never once did he even congratulate you, even at graduation, when the two of you stood side by side in class photo.

Maybe that's why when you had finally secured the job working for the Grand Sage, you were overjoyed. Even if it wasn't what you had imagined, you had finally made it a step closer to his pedestal.

But when you had introduced yourself, a sunny naive smile dotted on your face, he gave you the same disgusted face he had always given you.

His voice only came in demands from there on.

He didn't remember you. Not at all.

No, he chose to forget you.

...

It had taken you months for him to even remotely warm up to you, and longer days yet for him to talk about himself with you. At some point, the effort became nauseating.

You couldn't stand to even mutter his name.

So perhaps the Traveler was a better person than you were. A smarter person than you. Maybe they were in league with Alhaitham from the very beginning. Maybe to him, he thought the Traveller as someone of his level. A worthy ruler to sit beside his pedestal.

The feeling boils deeper, that sickening feeling of jealousy produced by those fruits of your younger years you had so desperately tried to hide.

(A tear threatens to trickle.)

"Ah... [Name]? Are you alright? You seem out of it right now. Do you feel tired again?" The Traveler notices the shift in your eyes. Your face having dropped a while ago, staring into nothingness.

"Ms. [Name]?..." The green in Nahida's eyes swirl a bit, a nervous worry across her face now, noticing you aren't responding.

"Oh. Sorry. It seems I'm not feeling too well right now Traveller, Nahida. I'm sorry, but it seems like I must leave for the night. It is after my workhours anyhow..." your voice sounds meek in comparison to the Travelers.

"Oh no... That's no good. Would you like one of us to walk you home? Maybe Alhaitham?" Nahida suggests. Oh, bless her sweet heart.

"That... Would not be very professional Nahida. If it is alright, there are matters I must discuss with the Traveler in private."

Again, you notice how there's a glint of catching eyes between the two men.

"Oh, but Paimon doesn't think [Name] should go home this late at night by herself! We spent so long talking it's near night already."

Your gut sinks a little more, embarrassment flooding through your system, "It's fine guys. I can go by myself! My home is just a walks away."

"It's okay! I can go with you [Name]! There is something I'd like to talk to you about too!" Nahida peeps up. Looking at her smile, something about her careful gaze felt almost motherly.

Quite comforting even.

"... Thank you Nahida. Sure, why not." There is no will in you to argue.

After short good byes, you leave, breath hitched as you fight the urge to look back at his silver eyes.

Your sure they must have looked beautiful, as they always had.

...

That night, after plopping down on the couch and thanking Nahida profusely, she thanks you, stating something odd,

"I hope you sleep well [Name]. You seemed troubled earlier. May the Archons watch over you."

Barely enough energy to spare, you find yoursef on the hard wooden floors. Chilling to the touch, but most welcomed compared to the humid weather.

That night, strange memories form dreams, merciless as they plague you.

Flashes of memories of you and Alhaitham, back from the Akademiya days switch from one to the next. Almost in parallel, you'd remember one scene, before a flash of change, to the perspective of someone else.

It was like you were watching yourself from your perspective to an outsiders.

And every time, without a fail, the change would take away Alhaitham. Instead, the outsider would murmur in frustration, low in tone, things you could barely make out. But a longing, desperate feeling, unlike the one you had felt away, would find its way back to the outsider, every time they would look at you.

It was weird.

When you woke, you could barely remember what the strange person narrating was saying. Still, the sun shines, commencing another day of work.

LETTER IV: Ghosting

By the time you arrive at the office, it is still night. The sun barely peeking past the horizon.

Your in no mood to work however. Instead, you take out the crumpled letter paper, rummaging for a pen, and sit down, writing out your thoughts.

'Dear Sophós,

I'd hate to cut welcomes short, I hope as always you are doing well, but I urgently need help.

Do you remember the boss I had talked to you about?

Well, it's been long since he's rude and terrible behavior. It's actually miraculous. Out of nowhere he has been acting all nice and well mannered! Even though it was off putting at first since well... He's never done that ever. It was very sweet and nice. (you pen out a cute drawing of rainbows and sunshine to emphasize). But... Another issue has started.

I feel weird around him.

Not just him specifically, but, when he was meeting a friend, this long standing issue I've had came back.

I started feeling all these horribly sickening emotions. Jealousy is what it was. Just from watching how close the two were. They acted as if they had known each other for years Sophós... Something about it really hurt me to watch. And they talked to each other so easily too! Do you know how frustrating that is? I had wished for that type of bare closeness with him for so long, but for this friend of his, it seemed so easy. So Sophós I really beg, how do I fix this? I know for sure it was caused from something, but I can't pinpoint what from... I know that I have felt it before, back in my Akademiya days, when often the other students would outshine me in my craft, so I know for a fact it isn't romantic possessiveness, but still, the feeling isn't the exact same and I don't understand why it's happening.

Can you help me pen pal?

It's bothering me that such trivial baby feelings are getting to me. I feel lost. Am I jealous because of their friendship? Or is it that maybe I think that friend of my boss's is far superior to me?

With immediacy, [alias]'

...

For days, you couldn't find it in you to confront Alhaitham. You knew for sure he wouldn't have known what he did wrong, but the thought of how he had been so trusting of the Traveler compared to felt to frustrating to confront.

You knew it was childish. But for days you ignored him.

Your own boss, who you had finally learned to enjoy company with, was now back to be strangers with you.

Worse, every day you would find yourself desperately checking the mail, wondering where Sophós response was.

Your only friend outside of your chaotic worklife, out of nowhere, had suddenly disappeared the moment you needed them the most.

Now you were only more frustrated. Spending days trying to ignore your boss and also waiting for your friends response had taken to much of your valuable time.

An aching anxiety stayed conjuring in your body. Surely your penpal hadn't already gotten tired of you right? You couldn't trust yourself to make reasonable decisions without them. You had never taken the time to understand your emotions throughout your schooling, and so maybe you were too dependent on Sophós to advise you.

Still you waited. Spending every waking hour of the job, waiting desperately for help from your friend while nervously dancing around the building, hiding from Alhaitham's calls of your name.

...

Alhaitham hasn't seen your face in days.

He's started to worry a long time ago. And the guilt eats him alive. That night, he had rejected to walk you home as he needed to ask Traveler, despite his ego, what to do about his feelings.

When Nahida had come back to see the Traveler and Paimon as well, he had further buried his high head to ask for help from the archon.

It took him everything to cover his flushed face, bright red as the annoying high-pitched fairy had floated close to his face, asking all sorts of questions about his interest in you. Clearly surprised as if he couldn't hold sentimental connections.

Tch, the nerve of them.

The following weeks though, it seemed you had taken it the wrong way. Moments, he would find you across the hall, having chocolates or flowers he had plucked stuffed in his pocket, wanting to sneak them to you, only for you to run away.

What annoyed him more was, by the second week, it was 100% clear and noticeable to the whole office he was being ghosted by his assistant.

It took him days on end to search for even the slightest sliver of your hair, only for you to find some convenient place to hide. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why you were upset with him.

It had even become noticeable to Kaveh.

By the Friday of the second week Kaveh had appeared at the office, under the guise of some Architectual project to yell at him again.

"You've forgotten your headphones twice now Alhaitham! What is the matter with you lately? By Archons Alhaitham we have mail piling up at home and I'm pretty sure your pen pal is waiting on a response right now!"

"Keep it down won't you. Listen, I have better issues to attend to of late. There are far more important priorities than the pen pal thing." He scoffs in annoyance, looking back down at his checklist and then to the stack of paperwork he had been putting aside.

Trying to find you in the massive building turned out to backfire, spending most of his time occupied by you had put him behind on work he could care less about. What worried him was that you had called in sick that morning. Something that had never happened even once in his term of office.

"Is that... Late papers?!... You-" Kaveh points dramatically, "have missing papers? Now there really is something wrong. Spill it. Now. I have to know what's been throwing off the almighty Alhaitham."

"I can practically hear the sneer dripping off your sentence Kaveh. Don't get too excited. It's just... Well. [Name] has been gone for the past days." His eyes flutter to anywhere else but the obviously dramatic jaw drop Kaveh had on.

"[Name]? Your assistant? Uh oh. What did you do this time? I knew it... You annoyed them to death with your attitude!"

"No- Before you continue, it was not because of me. At least, I don't believe so." His words trail off in doubt, feeling wrong even to him.

"Before you continue yelling in my ear, it happened to be I may have... Made her angry. But I don't know by doing what."

"Well then you've got to figure it out!... I'm tired of having to walk from here and back for the stuff you forgot. It's getting on my nerves! Tell me about the day before she started ignoring you, maybe that'll help your dense head."

...

Upon recounting everything to Kaveh, Alhaitham's guilt had only worsened.

It was not a feeling he was enjoying.

"She obviously was taking the hint you liked her! And then you up and left her to walk herself back?! What is wrong with you?!"

"I- I was talking to the Traveler about her. I would have never thought she could have been jealous from that..."

"Well, she clearly was! If anything, she probably thought, he was competition! You have to go fix this. Now."

"Kaveh, have you not retained any of the information I've given you. I have been trying, but she ignores my attempts to consolidate."

"Well... That sounds like a you problem! You need to figure it out. Maybe even arrange a date and finally confess like a man Alhaitham!"

The bickering between the two of them lasts for an hour before Kaveh stomps angrily out. A semi-conclusion reached as he yells for Alhaitham to get his act together.

"She likes you Alhaitham! So, get your crap together and tell her you feel the same!"

By the time the blonde's angry footsteps stop ringing across the floor Alhaitham feels the stress overflooding all over again.

For a man who prides himself in remaining calm always, even he couldn't cool himself down from the sheer embarrassment at his lack of romantic realization.

You liked him.

And the thought made him an absolute mess. His long fingers crunch around the nearest paper, the other hand folding over the bottom of his face, desperate to cover his bright rosy cheek. Uncharacteristically, he feels nervous.

Memories of your face that day floods into his head again. Dizzying him only further.

How unfortunately timed.

It takes him minutes to calm down, trying to shake your pretty face out of his mind. When it does finally happen, and he feels like he can breath again, his stoic face returns, letting go of the sad papers he had crumpled.

The checklist, still stapled to the letter you wrote, and a managerial essay you had written after surveying a project, all crushed together.

Looking closer, Alhaitham notices the little pictograms between each other line. Both on the professional paper and on the personal letter.

His brow raises, pulling the two items closer, he looks carefully at the writing. Looking at the way their addressed to him. The specific way that both show off similarities. The hand drawn emojis, the tilt in your letters, and the way your mannerisms showed in both of the papers.

Suddenly, he finds himself rushing out of his office, running towards your address. The street number coincidently returning to his memory from the very first day you had applied to be his second hand.

LETTER: INTERCEPTED

Gloom had taken over your body. The longer you spent moping over yourself, the more you felt pathetic and childish for even believing your friend and most (newly) trusted advisor would remain forever. Entertaining the wild possibility, you liked Alhaitham and that had caused all your pent-up jealousy wasn't even worth thinking about now.

Tissues now stuffed your trash, several scrapped up papers detailing letters to Sophós laid crumpled up and piled on the dining table. The pen long lost somewhere in the ground as you slumped over the couch.

Wasn't love supposed to be beautiful? The fabled spell uplifted you and made you feel powerful?

So why was it yours felt so different? For the past weeks you've felt a dry spell in motivation. A drought you've never experienced before, all to be replaced by loneliness. Your own pride eating you up inside as the thought of having apologize for your 'unprofessional behavior' felt like it would simply add on to your despair. Before you can continue sobbing to yourself, thinking about how far you had gone in life just to reach this point-

The doorbell rings.

You stay quiet. Praying that whoever it was would go away.

"[Name]... I can tell you are in there. Your usual shoes are still out here. I- Well, I wanted to talk about what has been going on."

The soothing sound of his voice brought you almost back to frustrated tears. As much as you missed him, a piece of you feels confused.

Still, you walk towards the door, the way you look like a sopping wet cat be damned.

When you open it, carefully, hesitantly, his eyes lock with yours. Just as they always have.

Naturally. Adoringly.

"Would it be wrong to ask if I may come in?"

Your voice seems to lose itself somewhere in the midst of it. Watching the way the sun shines behind his towering body, just as always, showcasing his presence over you.

You shake your head, opening the door wider to let him in. Parts of your head still screaming at you to keep your pride.

For the first time in a long while, you shut down the little girl who learned to be a prideful scholar.

...

An hour goes by, and then a second.

Alhaitham's sittin on the other side of the couch, still the one you are on, but far enough away to give you space to curl up in your blanket. Soft as it pretends to be your shield.

With a deep breath. You speak first.

"I'm sorry."

From there, it all spills. And gods, as flawed as he was, Alhaitham could tell you needed to let it out.

He sat there so patiently, maintaining that fierce eye contact that sent your legs limb as you explained every little detail. Afraid of any miscommunication killing what the two of you had left.

Minute after minute you explain how you had always had a complex over how you compared yourself. Talking out about how you had met him, how he had changed your perspective. How at first you hated him and now... Well. It sort of spilled somewhere in the mix. In some part of the whole messy confession, you had started crying, uncontrollable heart wretched sobs as you apologized profusely over and over. Scared for what he might do, fire you maybe? You wouldn't blame him. If anything, you deserved it for your behavior.

Still he waits. His eyes watch you carefully, watching the tears trickle down your face. The way your cheeks and nose turn red with scratches as you swipe away at the hot tears, stinging at your face.

In the midst of it all, Alhaitham finds himself reaching for the box of tissues placed on your table, handing you several as he sits back down waiting patiently for you to finish your sobbing.

It takes another hour to explain.

He doesn't interrupt at all in that hour. No comforting words, no consoling gestures. Instead he continues to sit, continuing to watch tentatively, which only brings you to tears again as you feel horribly guilty for keeping him waiting.

When there are no more tears to cry, you find that you're met with pure silence.

Then it becomes his turn to explain.

Fear returns when he lifts out the papers, showing them to you as he explains. Scooting in closer to your fetal body as he finds himself wanting to hold you.

In him, a rage boils over, to him, it's disgust. Not a hatred for you, but to him. He feels like he has failed you. For someone who claimed to love you, he certainly had not expressed clearly that he did. And so he continues to explain, taking time to watch how you react. Which, at this point, was barely anything.

Your eyes are swollen from crying and apologizing. He takes care to notice the way your throat seems to have swollen, the way you nod slowly to ensure he knows you're listening.

"I am sorry [Name]. I... Should have consolidated with you instead of being a coward. I was foolish in taking to a pen pal program instead of talking to the real person I cherished- No. The person I love."

Again, he finds himself dropping all the papers. Turning to you. Lifting up your swollen cheeks with both his hands.

"I am sorry."

Your eyes threaten to tear up again, a twitch of your nose as you sniffle. You look at him, facing him as he was, and suddenly, it feels safe again.

The burden of your guilt lifts a little, and though you don't have the voice to say, you launch forward, hugging him tightly.

He feels warm this way. His hands drifting down to around your waist. Their almost... Oddly placed. As if he isn't sure where to hold you.

So, you wrap your arms around his upper back, squeezing him gently as you sniffle into his shirt. The faint smell of books wafting from his clothes. In you, a chuckle escapes, finding the strange scent comforting. He copies the way you hold him. Taking to brush through your hair again. Detangling the long worn locks as he combs through, gently, lovingly.

He takes to laying his back against the couch's arm. Guiding you with as you lay on his chest. Staring up at the barren ceiling.

His hands continue to comb through your hair, stopping every now and then to pat it all back down from friction. His chest rising and slowly back down as you lie.

Slowly, you find yourself breathing alongside him, an occasional hiccup as the two of you lay quietly. Thinking about who knows what, but grateful the same.

He still smells like books, but you notice, a hint of woodland. Then, you notice how his fingers were long and nimble, combing through long sections of your hair with breeze. But the way he felt, lying underneath you, not a word to say more, felt domestic.

It made you feel alive again. It made you feel worth it.

He loved you.

He had said.

And you loved him.

Ever so tenderly, he turns your head up to him, your eyes finding each other's as they always did, so naturally, so full of love and a softness you had now come to realize had always been there. He lifts your face, turning it slightly as his eyes wander over all it's beauty. Archons, to him, you were beautiful.

To him, you were everything he needed.

He doesn't think before it happens.

Kissing you. Lips touching, just and warm and loving as his gaze on you. Sweet, brief.

He holds on, just a bit longer. Biting at your longer lip, nibbling. Pushing in, you return the favor. The taste of iron between the two of you. His arms snaking up behind your shoulders, pulling you down desperately as your legs turn into him, find their way around his hips. Desperately, you let loose for air.

"I love you." He says.

With a new found confidence, your heart beats faster. A grin on your lips as you mouth the same back.

Your lips find their way to his neck.

A groan leaves his mouth.

His legs buckle, hands pulling down your neck.

MEMORY OF AN ARCHON: Finale (will be pod soon)

BARISTA'S INQUIREMENT... hey guys!! merry christmas/happy holidays. I know I've been promising this one for a while and I had originally planned for more Christmassy content but... Life happens. I found myself revising and rushing at the end to post but I do hope everyone enjoys <3, there are a bunch of little secret messages/meanings I hid in here for interpretation! (my inbox is always open for speculation, questions,and discussion about fics!! )

word count. ~ 15k

tag list form !

©lilimalia... Please do not plagiarize, themes are edited by me, reblogs allowed, do not repost on any other platform!!

banner creds: to be added

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slaymitchabernathy · 2 days ago

Text

A Christmas Miracle

My dearest Soarynn, I'm writing to you with the grandest news I could ever bestow upon you. All Capitol troops will be returning home for Christmas. We'll be permitted to stay for one week before returning to our base camp. I know you'll want as much time as possible to plan for my arrival, although I am confident in your abilities to arrange for proper accommodations to be made. We will arrive on Sunday and there is to be a dinner on Monday night to commemorate our fallen comrades. I do hope you're well darling, not a single day goes by without me thinking of you. I cherish the photographs and letters you send me with all my heart, and cannot wait to have you back in my arms again. I do not know when our train will be arriving, so please, check the train schedules frequently. You are a constant light in the darkness of the Districts my love and I am anxiously waiting for the day when we can be together without worry or fear. I will see you on Sunday, please take care of yourself, my darling girl. Love, Coriolanus

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn nervously eyes her reflection in the mirror.

Does she look okay? Is her hair too shiny? Will he think she looks pretty?

"You look beautiful Miss Soarynn," her maid gushes, setting the hairbrush down on the counter, "Mr. Snow will be head over heels when he sees you at the train station."

Soarynn blushes, she's always been complimented on her beauty but his opinion is the only one that truly matters. Still, she appreciates the kind words, goodness knows everyone could use a kind word or two in these dark times.

Two years ago, war broke out in the Districts again. Soarynn had thought it was impossible, especially after the last war ended with the Capitol on top and the Districts on the bottom. Her husband, Coriolanus Snow had assured her time and time again that another war was impossible.

For once he was wrong.

The war didn't make its way to the Capitol this time, no, it remained in the Districts, and in an effort to contain it, the Capitol began sending troops to the wilderness of the Districts. Coriolanus was drafted due to his family legacy, his own father had been a general in the first war during the Dark Days and he was more than willing to serve his country.

Soarynn was less willing to watch her husband board a train and possibly never come back. Even though he assured her that he was simply there along with the other troops to impose their presence, she still wasn't convinced. They had been newly married and trying to start a family, why couldn't he stay with her where it was safe?

Coriolanus of course, saw it as a great honor to serve Panem and promised to write to her once a week and if allowed, make phone calls. Soarynn thought it was ridiculous, they lived together and now they were getting excited over five-minute phone calls.

Still, for him to come home for an entire week after being gone for so long was a treat as great as any and she wouldn't be taking it for granted. She had filled their week with lots of winter activities leading up to Christmas. She had the maids clean the penthouse from top to bottom, wanting everything to be perfect for Coriolanus.

She went out and bought him some new clothes, and...some new lingerie for herself as well. They'd certainly be busy at night.

"I certainly can't wait to see him again," she murmurs, reaching for her compact, "one week isn't long enough."

Being left alone in the Capitol had been hard on Soarynn. She used to spend nearly every moment with Coriolanus and now, she was on her own. She had turned to extreme measures, turned to something that galas and tea parties could not fix.

She got a cat.

She knew Coriolanus wouldn't exactly be thrilled but she was desperate for constant companionship. She glances out into her bedroom where her cat, Petunia, is curled up on her husband's pillow, sound asleep. She hopes they'll get along.

Coriolanus was used to a house with just the two of them and Petunia is used to a house with just the two of them.

There might be a war within the Snow household this week.

But they'll barely be home with what she has planned for them. At least that's what she tells herself.

Soarynn inspects herself one last time, making sure there's not a single flaw in her appearance. She wore light makeup today since Coriolanus has always loved her freckles so much. Maria styled her hair perfectly, curling it and then pulling back some pieces to tie with a bow. Soarynn grabs one of her favorite perfume bottles, one that holds a vanilla scent, and liberally sprays it all over herself. She wants to engulf Coriolanus in her scent.

She rises from her vanity stool and makes her way into the closet, the closet that feels so empty without some of his clothes in it. He'll certainly be glad to return with some new ones and Soarynn will be glad to wear his old ones. She often sleeps in his shirts, clinging to the scent of roses and something masculine that she just can't get enough of.

"Red or blue?" She asks Maria, pulling out two dresses, nearly identical to each other. Maria inspects both of them, gently touching the fabric, "I think the red one Miss," she tells Soarynn who nods in agreement, Coriolanus has always liked red.

"Perfect, will you please go fetch my coat and gloves?" She asks, unzipping the dress. "Certainly Miss," Maria gives Soarynn a small curtsy before leaving to go get her things and Soarynn slides off her silk robe.

She only looks at her almost naked self in the mirror for a second, reminding herself how lucky she is to be standing in a closet full of clothes with a household staff at her beck and call. She could be in the streets, starving and cold but she's safe and warm.

The war didn't affect everyone in the Capitol like it did last time. She remembers the first war, the bombs, her parents both dying, how hungry people were. This war has been different.

Only the lower and middle classes have been truly affected by it. Food has become limited but not scarce, there are ration lines but only for those who absolutely need it and Soarynn isn't one of those people. By marrying a Snow, she solidified herself in the upper class, in the elite. Every once in a while there will be a shortage of strawberries or meat but it's always resolved rather quickly.

If anything, the war has been a great inconvenience for her, disrupting her normal plans. She still goes to tea with her friends, still goes on shopping sprees, still gets pedicures every other week. Coriolanus didn't leave her with nothing. He suffered from the first war too, losing both his parents and a good bit of his family fortune. He spent the next ten years building his name back up and now, he's one of the richest men in Panem.

With his investments, business ventures, and connections, he left Soarynn to live a comfortable life of luxury. And the Capitol pays him to be at war.

It's the best-case scenario for a thing like this but she still wishes he didn't have to leave in the first place.

Soarynn shakes those thoughts off and slips into the dress. It's a very flattering look on her with a boat neckline that shows off a bit of her collarbones. It's sleeveless but she'll have her coat and gloves and it fits her figure perfectly, stopping right below her knees to show off her white high heels. With her hair and makeup done perfectly as well, she makes for a picture of sophistication.

Maria returns with her coat and gloves and helps Soarynn into them. Maria has been a godsend to Soarynn who had been quite overwhelmed once Coriolanus left. She's younger than Soarynn but very mature, always helping Soarynn manage in taking care of such a large apartment. She'll occasionally accompany Soarynn to the market if she needs to buy something specific and is always a good source of advice.

Soarynn had hired Maria right before Coriolanus left and she's been a loyal servant ever since.

"We'll be back later tonight," Soarynn tells Maria while searching for the right purse, "he'll want bourbon or whiskey, maybe both. And please make sure that the bath has been properly cleaned as well. He'll have lots of laundry that'll need to be done before he leaves."

Maria nods along to all of her words, "Yes Miss Soarynn, everything will be ready for Mr. Snow's arrival."

Soarynn picks a black handbag, leather and beautifully crafted, a gift from Coriolanus a few years ago when they were engaged, "Perfect. I'll call if anything comes up."

Maria walks her to the front doors and Soarynn buttons her coat, taking in a deep breath, "Enjoy yourself Miss Soarynn," Maria kindly tells her, "you deserve to have this time with your husband."

Soarynn smiles, she's right, she ought to enjoy every minute with Coriolanus rather than stressing about everything being perfect. "Thank you, we'll see you tonight."

Soarynn makes her way into the hallway and waits for the elevator, living in the penthouse is all fun and games until you're stuck waiting for the elevator. Coriolanus will probably remind her of a time when the elevator didn't work during the first war.

He's been doing a lot of that, reminding and remembering about what he went through the first time a war was brought to the Capitol's doorstep. Soarynn wonders if it's some sort of trauma response.

The elevator arrives with a ding and Soarynn steps into it, pressing the button to bring her to the lobby. She ends up being stopped on the eleventh floor where Mrs. Dolittle gets in, dragging her white, yappy dog with her. "Oh Mrs. Snow, don't you look lovely? Say hello to Mrs. Snow little Zeus," Mrs. Dolittle says to her dog Zeus who only barks at Soarynn.

"Thank you," Soarynn says to the older woman, "and hello Zeus, are you off for your afternoon walk?" Mrs. Dolittle hums and places a hand over her heart, "We're off to watch all of the troops come home, some of them are being brought in by trucks."

Soarynn's interest is piqued, "Trucks? Coriolanus is coming by train, I thought..." Her voice dies off and she begins to worry, has the schedule been changed? Is he not coming home today?

"Your husband will be coming by train because he's important dear," Mrs. Dolittle says before Soarynn can begin to spiral, "the rest of the troops are less important, or to put it plainly, less rich."

Oh.

Well, Soarynn can't argue with that.

"I see," is all she says before the doors open up to the lobby. "Enjoy your time with your husband dear," Mrs. Dolittle pats Soarynn's arm, "and if you have time, tell Coriolanus to pay us a visit so he can meet Zeus."

Soarynn knows for a fact that he won't have time or want to meet Zeuz but she smiles all the same and promises to do her best.

Soarynn walks out into the cold December air with a newfound energy inside of her. She's going to see her husband again, and for an entire week!

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn is giddy with excitement as she slides into the backseat of their car, "The train station please," she says, fishing her compact out of her handbag. She might as well check her reflection one more time, just in case something on her face changed from the elevator ride.

For their first wedding anniversary, Coriolanus gifted her a beautiful gold compact with a mirror and power inside. The power is her favorite scent, of course, vanilla. There's a beautiful rose engraved on the outside of the compact and even though they were apart on their anniversary, he still made the effort.

Soarynn applies a little more powder to her neck before glancing outside the car windows and she's astounded at how many people are milling around the train station.

"Looks like the whole Capitol's here," her driver remarks. Soarynn scans the crowd of eager faces, most of these people don't look like her, rich, but they might still be waiting for loved ones to arrive.

Her driver gets her all the way to the entrance of the station so she doesn't have to walk, "I'll wait right here Mrs. Snow," he assures her.

Soarynn nods and begins to make her way inside the train station. The glass pane ceilings let the natural light shine in and it's shaping up to be a beautiful day. The platform is even more crowded with hundreds of people pushing and shoving. Soarynn walks over to the schedule that's been posted on one of the ticket booths and scans one last time for her husband's train.

A Peacekeeper standing guard notices her, "Are you looking for a particular train Miss?" Soarynn shakes her head, offering him a polite smile, "I wouldn't want to trouble you, my husband is coming home today from District Five."

"Who's your husband?"

"Coriolanus Snow."

The Peacekeeper's eyes widen from hearing that name, that so very important name, "Allow me to escort you to the correct platform then Mrs. Snow."

Soarynn looks back over at all the people pushing and shoving, it does look very busy over there but she wouldn't want to impose. "I don't want to trouble you," she says sweetly, "I'm sure I can manage."

The Peacekeeper must not have a lot of faith in her, "I insist ma'am, please allow me to safely escort you." Soarynn jumps when she hears some shouting and looks back over to see that a fight has broken out on the platform, "Well if you insist," she quickly agrees.

The young man to his credit, gets Soarynn to the correct platform in one, safe piece, clearing a path for them the second people see his uniform. Platform Five is much quieter than the platform she just saw and Soarynn sighs, "This is much emptier," she notes.

The Peacekeeper chuckles, "Those other people don't know how to act, that's why they're all the way over there and you're all the way over here."

Before Soarynn can say anything else, the sharp whistle of an incoming train gains her attention. She looks around at the others waiting, mostly women like her, eagerly awaiting the arrival of their husbands. The train slowly pulls into the station, too slow in her opinion but she's excited all the same.

"How long has it been since you've seen him?"

"Two years," she answers, trying to look into the train windows, "two very long years."

It feels like a lifetime but she won't let that stop her from continuing to love him from afar. The train doors finally hiss open and several women rush forward in search of their loved ones. Soarynn being more shy and timid, stays back, looking for a head of blonde hair. It seems that all the men are dressed in their uniforms, donning their hats and coats, making it harder for Soarynn to see Coriolanus.

She watches several tearful reunions and can't help but wish for her own. More men spill out, some are greeted, some are not. Soarynn has heard the whispers about divorces left and right due to men being deployed. She can't imagine separating from Coriolanus because he's serving his country.

One man with tan skin steps off the train and he's looking directly at Soarynn, making her feel very self-conscious. He looks into the train and says something, pointing at her.

Soarynn stands up straight, her heart is pounding and there he is.

Coriolanus Snow is stepping off the train.

Soarynn is a woman who prides herself on following the unspoken rules of etiquette. No screaming, no shouting, no running in public or arguing.

She throws all those rules out the window the second he lays eyes on her. She breaks into a huge smile and runs towards him, not caring how improper it is.

Coriolanus doesn't seem to care either as he grins, opening his arms up. Soarynn shrieks and throws her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest, content to never let go of him again. Coriolanus wraps his strong arms around her and she can smell the roses, smell how manly he is, and how much she's missed him. Coriolanus groans and squeezes her tight, "There's my girl."

Soarynn might just cry.

She pulls away just enough to see his face, his handsome face. He looks the same as he left, prominent nose, beautiful blue eyes, full lips with a smile that still drives her crazy.

"I missed you," is the first thing she says.

He kisses her a second later, not wasting any time showing her how much he missed her as well. Soarynn sighs into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck even tighter to deepen the kiss. It feels so good, so good to have his lips on her again. She didn't realize how much she took this feeling for granted until he left.

Two years without a kiss good morning, goodbye or goodnight.

They're going to have to pry him away from her cold, dead hands when this week is up.

"Soarynn," he says against her lips, "I might have to take you with me when I go back because I can't go without this again." Soarynn laughs into the kiss, it looks like she's not the only one who's been lonely. When they finally break away from the kiss, his eyes meet hers and they hold so much love, so much devotion, the need and want to keep her safe no matter what.

"Look at you," he says softly, resting a gloved hand on her cheek, "still so beautiful and radiant. You look gorgeous darling, absolutely gorgeous, I pity the men who didn't get to come home to you today."

Soarynn giggles and rests her head on his chest, wanting to be as close to him as possible. She lets go of his neck and wraps her arms around his torso, he feels so strong under all these layers, "I missed you so much Coryo," she tells him, "thought about you every single day you were gone."

She feels him place a kiss on the top of her head, another thing she's missed, how affectionate he is with her. "You have me for an entire week," he tells her, his voice laced with authority and yet completely gentle and patient with her. Soarynn hums, closing her eyes so she can remember this moment for the rest of her life.

She's grateful that he doesn't pull away, force her to move because she really doesn't want to. She wishes she could freeze time so they could stay like this forever.

"You weren't lying Snow," someone says, causing Soarynn to lift her head. It's the same man who was looking at her when he stepped off the train, "I told you she's beautiful," Coriolanus replies, kissing her temple. Soarynn feels herself blushing, she hadn't even thought about Coriolanus bragging to his comrades about her but it sounded exactly like something he'd do.

Coriolanus is a proud man, proud of his family, proud of his success, and proud to have secured a fitting match such as Soarynn. He's never shied away from boasting about her beauty, her charm, and femininity. Of course, he'd talk about her to his comrades, show off her pictures proudly.

"I'll see you tomorrow night," the man waves before walking down to the exit. Soarynn looks up at her husband, "Who was that?"

While Soarynn's letters to Coriolanus have included all the latest gossip and news, his have been more about how much he misses her and hopes for her safety at all times. Rarely has he mentioned anyone he's worked with.

"Lance Parkes," Coriolanus tells her, "we're in the same barrack."

Soarynn hums, she'll have to ask him about all his friends although she'll meet most of them tomorrow night. "How was the train ride?"

Coriolanus rubs her side, "It was fine, quite long but we were in first class so it was much more bearable."

Soarynn slips a hand under his coat, feeling the rest of his uniform, "You feel so strong, and you look so very smart in the uniform," she tells him, earning her a pleased grin. "Strong hmm?" He teases, making her giggle, "I should've known you'd ogle me the first chance you got."

Soarynn gasps, playfully shoving his chest, "Oh, please, you're the one who likes to ogle." He really is, Soarynn is more likely to silently admire her husband whereas he isn't afraid to make her put on a show for him.

Whenever they go shopping he has her come out and show him every outfit, praising her sense of fashion. And whenever she comes home with some new lingerie, well...she gives him a more private show.

"Well now that you've mentioned it, let me get a proper look at you," he says, loosening his grip on her, "give me a spin darling." Soarynn glances around the now barren platform, apparently, their reunion was longer than everyone else's so she doesn't feel too silly spinning around. Coriolanus lets out a low whistle and nods, looking her up and down, "You've got the type of beauty men go to war for," he tells her matter-of-factly.

Soarynn merely shakes her head, she wouldn't want to be the cause for any man to go to war, let alone her husband. "Where's your trunk?' She asks, changing the subject to something not about her. Coriolanus turns and points at the one trunk that's left, "I've come bearing gifts," he tells her, causing Soarynn's lips to curl up into a smile, "You don't say."

Coriolanus hums, reaching a hand out for her and she gladly takes it, "I've thought about you every single day," he continues, "thought about what you were doing, if you were feeling alright, if you needed anything." Soarynn's heart might just shatter into a million pieces, Coriolanus has been on her mind constantly but she always wondered if she was on his.

She squeezes his hand, smiling up at him, "Well we have a whole week together, so let's make the most of it."

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn has forgotten how attractive Coriolanus is.

For once, the roles are reversed and he is doing the shopping while she lounges on a sofa and sips champagne. He stands on a small pedestal, looking at his reflection in the store's mirrors that show him every angle.

He had written once or twice about outgrowing some of his clothing which confused Soarynn since he was too old to grow taller. But now, she gets it.

He's bigger. Stronger. More muscular.

His shirts don't fit the way they used to.

He looks very handsome in what the salesman selected for him, black pants, perfectly tailored, and a simple white button-up tucked into the pants. They're shopping for a new suit for him to wear to the dinner tomorrow night but finding a shirt to properly fit him has posed a challenge.

The salesman presses his lips into a thin line when he sees the buttons threatening to pop off, "Still too tight?"

Coriolanus offers him a polite smile, "Just a bit."

The salesman waves his hand, "An extra-large then, I'll have someone bring you the proper size."

Soarynn resists the urge to jump off the sofa and run into the changing room with her husband, it would be quite scandalous, and also bad manners.

"Where has he been all this time?" The salesman asks, raising an eyebrow, "I see hundreds of men every day in here but he must've been hiding under a rock." Soarynn chuckles, she doesn't mind when women or men flirt with her husband or talk about him in front of her, at the end of the day, she gets to go home with him.

"He's been deployed," she answers, setting her glass down on the small table, "he's back for a week and he's in desperate need of clothing that actually fits him."

"Well, I can see that, he's doubled in size from the looks of it, let me go look for a few more shirts."

Soarynn looks around the store while she waits, watching people come and go, everyone is doing last-minute shopping but she did hers weeks ago. Then she got that letter from Coriolanus and her entire world turned upside down. She had been so excited, she cried tears of joy, her husband was coming back to her.

For a week but still.

A few minutes later, Coriolanus walks out with a shirt that fits him properly and that cocky grin she's grown to love over the years, "What do you think darling?" He asks, holding out his arms while giving her a slow spin, "Do we have our base layer down?"

Soarynn does her best to remain appropriate when looking him up and down but it's very hard, especially with his big hands, and his big arms, and thighs and...she's getting distracted.

"I think we do," she answers with an encouraging smile. Coriolanus nods, "Perfect, let's move on to suit jackets then."

꧁ ꧂

Two hours later, Soarynn is strolling down the street with her husband and two large shopping bags.

"He was a good salesman," Coriolanus says, pulling her a little closer, "although I do believe he was flirting with me." Soarynn laughs, Coriolanus is as charming as they come but he's always had a hard time deciphering when the same gender flirts with him. Women he can pick up on in seconds, but men confuse him greatly.

Soarynn simply sees it as a compliment if both genders find you equally attractive.

"He was definitely flirting with you," she tells him, looking into a few shop windows, "you've got a new look and people are bound to notice."

Soarynn nearly trips when she sees the perfect little black dress in a boutique window. It's strapless and somewhat short but she knows that with the right heels, she can pull it off. One look at Coriolanus and she can tell that he's already picturing pulling it off of her.

"Why don't we go in here?" He suggests, his voice slightly hoarse. Soarynn wraps her hand around his arm and pulls them towards the door, "If you insist."

They're immediately greeted by an eager-looking saleswoman who has bright red hair and very long eyelashes, "Welcome, welcome! What brings you two in today?"

Coriolanus nods towards the mannequin wearing the black dress, "The black dress in the window would look stunning on my wife."

Soarynn doesn't even have time to blush because this saleswoman is grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the fitting rooms, "Of course, it would! You just go right back here dear and I'll bring you a few sizes."

Soarynn finds herself mindlessly nodding to whatever this woman says and walks into the first fitting room she sees. She doesn't even wait an entire minute before there's a knock on the door. She opens it to find the saleswoman holding three black dresses, "I brought a few sizes, although this one will probably fit you best."

Soarynn takes the hanger into her hands and nods, "Thank you very much." Part of her worries that this woman might try to come in and help her so she quickly shuts the door. Soarynn takes a deep breath before taking off her own clothes and neatly hanging them on the hooks in the fitting room. She steps into the dress and pulls it over her hips.

It would look great if she could get the zipper up.

"How's it going in there?"

Soarynn grits her teeth while fighting to pull the zipper all the way up, "Fine!" She calls back, using one hand to balance herself against the wall, "If you need any help just let me know!"

Soarynn almost falls over, "That won't be necessary!"

Three minutes later, she's sweaty and has the damn dress on.

But it does look very good on her.

Soarynn opens the door and peeks her head out, the coast is clear. She can hear the saleswoman yammering away outside, talking her husband's ear off. "...and that's when I knew gluten wasn't good for me and...oh! Oh, you look fabulous dear!"

Soarynn brushes her hair behind her ears, she isn't very fond of being the center of attention but neither Coriolanus nor the saleswomen can keep their eyes off of her as she steps in front of the mirror.

She can see Coriolanus watching her, a longing, lustful look in his eyes and she feels a boost of confidence, "You have the legs for that dress," the saleswoman tells her, "doesn't she Mr. Snow?"

Coriolanus grunts, fidgeting in his seat, "She certainly does."

Soarynn does a quick twirl and she smiles, "I'll take it." The saleswoman claps, delighted to do some business on such a busy day, "Wonderful! As soon as you take it off, I'll ring it up for you!"

Soarynn turns to go back to the fitting rooms but Coriolanus is quickly rising from his seat, "Let me help you with the zipper darling, she mentioned it might be tricky." Soarynn knows what he really wants and he could care less about the zipper, "Alright," she says sweetly.

They both walk back to her fitting room and he's on top of her the second she closes the door. Soarynn gasps when he pins her against the wall, his lips latch onto her neck, "Coryo," she gasps, "we're in a boutique!" Coriolanus scoffs and squeezes her waist, "I don't give a fuck darling, now turn around and bend over like the good girl you always are for me."

Soarynn would be lying if she said those words didn't do something to her. Something to her body that's gone two years without him. His touch, his lips, his hands, his cock.

She turns around.

Coriolanus bends her over and she braces her hands against the wall, "Coryo we have to be fast," she urgently whispers, not wanting to get caught. Mostly because she really wants this dress. Coriolanus chuckles and kisses right under her ear, "I'm just having a little fun darling."

He expertly unzips the dress and slides it off her body, letting it pool around her ankles and he palms her ass, groaning, "Fuck I missed you," he says, "missed this perfect little ass, your pretty little moans, how soft you are. You don't realize how bad it is out there for us darling, no women, surrounded by District scum, only our hands for a quick release."

Soarynn whimpers when he pulls her panties to the side, his fingers graze her clit and she bucks into his touch. She hasn't been faring but better in the sexual pleasure department but she has her ways, the shower head, her fingers, she's made it work.

But nothing is better than the real thing.

A knock on the door startles her, "Is everything alright in there dear?"

Coriolanus sinks two fingers into her cunt and Soarynn can feel her eyes rolling back. It's such a delicious burn after not having sex for so long and she might just cum right now, "Fine," she stammers, "it's, it's fine, I'm fine."

"Could you just toss the dress over the door then?"

Coriolanus reaches for the dress and Soarynn lifts her feet so he can grab it from the floor. He starts pumping his fingers in and out of her cunt and her knees buckle. Coriolanus catches her, holding her against the wall, "Be quiet for me hmm?" He says in her ear, his voice husky. Soarynn nods, biting her lip.

Coriolanus tosses the dress over the door and starts pumping faster and faster. Soarynn's toes are curling, her breaths are ragged. She's going to cum, very, very soon if he doesn't stop what he's doing. "Please," she mumbles, "please, please Coryo."

He peppers the back of her shoulder with kisses, so gentle in comparison to his fingers slamming in and out of her, "Still so good for me huh? Still remember your manners." Soarynn whines when his thumb presses against her clit, she cannot have an orgasm in a boutique fitting room.

Right?

Her walls start fluttering, her body starts shaking and the wire inside of her is about to snap, "Give it to me," he orders, "be my good girl and cum all over my fingers like the little slut you are for me Soarynn."

That's all it takes for her to fall apart. She lets out a moan but he quickly slaps his other hand over her mouth, muffling any noise she makes. Soarynn twitches as her orgasm rides out, it's so intense, so good after so long. She can feel the stickiness between her legs, she doesn't know how she's going to walk out of her but Coriolanus has already thought this through apparently.

He brandishes a handkerchief from his coat pocket a second later and makes quick work of cleaning her up to the best of his abilities. Her legs are still shaking, how she'll be able to look that saleswoman in the eye is beyond her. "You didn't, didn't get to..." Her voice dies off when she sees Coriolanus shaking his head, a sweet smile on his lips, "If I'm going to fuck you, then I'm going to do it properly," he tells her, "and in the comfort of my own home."

Soarynn lets him place a kiss on her forehead before he leaves to go pay for the dress. She puts her own clothes back on quickly so she doesn't raise any suspicion and joins Coriolanus a few minutes later at the counter near the front of the store.

Apparently, he's revealed that he's visiting for the week because the saleswoman has her hand over her heart, "...just the noblest thing a man could do for his country," she says, her eyes drifting over to Soarynn, "and leaving your wife behind? You're a national hero Mr. Snow."

Soarynn keeps herself from rolling her eyes, Coriolanus certainly has done a great service to his country, but being called a national hero is a bit of a stretch. Coriolanus, of course, loves it and grins, taking the pink bag off the counter, "You flatter me truly, thank you so much for your help today." Soarynn nods along to his words and wraps her hand around his arm, "Yes, thank you so much for your assistance."

"Of course! Stop by anytime."

They bid the saleswoman goodbye and step back out into the cold, Soarynn immediately curls into Coriolanus who doesn't despise the cold the way she does. Maybe it's because of his last name, but the cold has little to no effect on Coriolanus whereas Soarynn hates it with all her might.

"You should wear that dress to dinner tomorrow night," he says, leading them across the street. Soarynn gives him a skeptical look, "To a dinner honoring dead soldiers? I don't think so. Besides, I already have a dress picked out for tomorrow night." And she does, it's navy blue and makes her eyes pop. He'll love it because he loves everything she wears.

Coriolanus simply hums and holds her tighter, "Whatever you want darling."

Soarynn cherishes those words for she won't be hearing them in a few days. She ought to cherish every moment with Coriolanus while he's here, every single second is precious.

꧁ ꧂

Later that night, Soarynn finds herself in a most domestic position, curled up in her husband's arms, naked under their sheets. She used to dream about moments like this, hoping she'd wake up to find him next to her, only to wake up to an empty bed.

His breathing is slow and steady, instantly calming her after a long night of passionate sex. Coriolanus could barely keep his hands to himself for the rest of the day after their little stunt in the dressing room. They still had to go to several stores and then to dinner before they could come home.

Coriolanus was more than pleased to be warmly welcomed by his household staff and a clean apartment. He wasn't however, too pleased when he discovered Petunia lounging on his side of the bed, surprised to see a man in the room she thought of as her own.

There was a clear rivalry the moment they laid eyes on each other, especially when she saw how handsy he was being with Soarynn. She had hissed and swatted at him while Soarynn tried to calm her down and fix the rift between her beloved husband and cat.

She ended up removing Petunia from their bedroom so they could properly reunite and after several rounds of passionate sex, Soarynn was more than pleased with how the day turned out.

Coriolanus presses a hand on her stomach, splaying out his long fingers, "I was thinking," he mumbles in her ear, voice laced with sleep, "we should have a baby."

That gets her wide awake. Soarynn pushes her hips against his, causing him to groan since he has yet to pull out, "A baby?" She whispers, thinking about the possibility of finally starting a family with Coriolanus. They barely had any time after they got married, war broke out and he was shipped out.

It's not like they didn't want a family, the penthouse is huge with so many empty bedrooms. Her mind drifts down the hall to the nearest bedroom, vacant and begging to have a crib inside of it. He kisses right under her ear and hums, resting his chin on her shoulder, "Mhm, if it weren't for the war then I'm sure we'd have at least one child by now. And I've heard rumors Soarynn, they're starting to pull troops out little by little. I'll be home before you know it, and for good next time."

Soarynn's heart is beating so fast, the war is ending?

Part of her doesn't want to believe him, but Coriolanus isn't one to lie, he hates lying and anyone who does it. "Okay," she says, finding nothing wrong with his proposition. He's right, if Coriolanus wasn't deployed then they'd certainly already have a child right now. These past two years have set them back and she's not getting any younger.

He wraps his arms around her tighter and groans, "Good, because I'm convinced that I already fucked a baby into you."

They both laugh, knowing it doesn't exactly work that way but she's past caring about logistics right now.

Her husband is home and that's all that matters.

꧁ ꧂

Much to Soarynn's dismay, the next few days flew by in the blink of an eye.

She and Coriolanus spent every waking minute with each other, from the moment they woke up to the moment they went to bed, they were together. Their friends had teased them about it at dinner one night, how inseparable the pair was but Soarynn found nothing wrong with it.

She and Coriolanus belonged with each other. How could they not see it?

Even now as he opens a present from under the Christmas tree, it's so evident to Soarynn that he's the one for her. His strong masculine aura mixes perfectly with her gentle feminine one. While he's effortlessly charming, she's endlessly graceful, making them the perfect pair once again.

Coriolanus grins when he pulls out several pairs of white socks, the ones he's always been so fond of since Soarynn met him. He's always been one to value routine and tradition, never straying from what he trusts which includes socks. "You remembered my letter," he says with a laugh, setting them down on the floor next to him.

Soarynn nods, in one of his more recent letters, Coriolanus had mentioned how worn out his socks were becoming. Soarynn was no stranger to sending him letters but packages were a little bit trickier. They required an outrageous amount of postage to start, and there was never a guarantee that it would actually be delivered. She's sent a few over the past two years and according to Coriolanus, he's one of the only men who receives both packages and letters from home.

Soarynn truly can't imagine not writing letters to a loved one who's away at war. She writes him a letter nearly every day.

"I did," she agrees, "once I knew you were coming home, I ran out to buy you some new ones."

They both sit in comfortable silence while snow quietly falls outside of the living room windows. Soarynn watches the tiny snowflakes fall from the sky, doing her best to think about anything but what tomorrow will bring.

The train that will take him away from her again.

She can't help but begin to fear the worst, Coriolanus getting caught in the crossfire, a bomb going off and taking his limbs off, a trap being set just for him.

Which is highly unlikely from what he's told her. He's barely seen any real action, just a lot of angry people who he has to keep under control with a gun. When Soarynn asked if he ever had to use it on anyone, he'd gone quiet. This war still affected him despite him acting like it didn't. And Soarynn doesn't want him to go back to it.

She can feel the tears forming in her eyes, they've had such a lovely week filled with dinners, parties, and quality time together.

She doesn't want it to end.

"Darling," he says gently, "come here."

Coriolanus opens his arms out to her and Soarynn sniffles as she crawls over crinkled wrapping paper until she's crawling into his lap, burying her face in his neck. He immediately slips his hands under her nightgown and wraps his arms around her waist, holding her tight, "We'll be alright," he tells her softly, "I'll be back before you know it, and then we'll start our own little family. How does that sound?"

It sounds wonderful, like a dream come true to Soarynn who's been so lonely the past two years.

"Nice," is all she mumbles, not able to find it inside of her to act chipper when she's not. Coriolanus rubs his hand up and down her back, calming her with the smallest of touches, "I hope you know how much I miss you," he tells her, "how every night I stare up at the ceiling and wish you were there with me. You're all I have Soarynn, you've been the greatest gift."

Tears freely flow down her cheeks after hearing those endearing words. She doesn't know if this conversation is making his departure easier or worse. "I love you," she whispers, "with all my heart I love you."

She doesn't know how long they stay like that, curled up on the floor but it doesn't matter.

Nothing matters when she's with him.

꧁ ꧂

The morning of her husband's departure comes with heavy burdens for both of them.

Coriolanus, who must face what lies in the Districts once again, alone and without the comforts of home.

Soarynn, who must return to normal life with a smile on her face, and without the comforts of him.

They both fake it incredibly well to their credit, smiling at those they pass by as they walk towards his train. Just a week ago Soarynn was getting ready to come to the station, putting so much effort into her appearance. She barely even brushed her hair this morning since she planned on running right back home once he left to cry in bed.

Coriolanus hands off his trunk to a train attendant and Soarynn watches the man carry it onto the train, already stealing parts of Coriolanus away from her. She looks around the platform and is somewhat comforted by the sight of many other couples sharing tearful goodbyes.

At least they can all be miserable together is what she's concluded.

"Keep writing to me hmm?" He asks, nosing her cheek in an effort to make her laugh. Soarynn nods but can't find it in herself to laugh like she usually does when he's being so sweet, "You'll let me know if you hear anything else about deployment right?" She inquires for the tenth time today. She knows it must be getting annoying but she simply must know that he'll keep her updated with these things.

Coriolanus nods and rests his forehead against her own, "Yes darling, the second I know for sure I'm coming home, I'll let you know."

She rests her hands on his arms, feeling him one last time, "I'm going to miss you," she mumbles, her voice carries more of a tremor than she'd like but it's hard to act brave right now. Coriolanus leans down and kisses her, so sweetly and gently. Soarynn returns the kiss with her own gentleness for this will be the last kiss she's given for a long time.

"Be careful out there," she whispers, not pulling away from the kiss, "I can't go on without you Coryo."

He wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her into his safe hold, "I will," he promises, pecking her lips once more, "and you take care of yourself hmm? I want you to enjoy yourself while I'm gone darling, spend time with friends, spend my money, all those nice things hmm?" A small smile forms on her lips and Coriolanus chuckles, "There's my girl, always smiling for me."

She knows this is hard on him too, to leave her, to willingly leave her behind goes against everything Coriolanus believes in.

But they'll be together again soon, she's sure of it.

The sharp train whistle pulls the couple apart, announcing that the train will be departing soon.

"Make sure to call me," Soarynn reminds him, clinging onto him for dear life, "and to write to me. And let me know if you need me to send you anythi-"

She never finishes her sentence due to his lips crashing onto her again, effectively shutting her up. Soarynn responds the way she always does, loyally and lovingly, letting him take the lead. Coriolanus brings his hand to gently cup her face while they share one last kiss.

Another sharp whistle from the train jolts both of them and they finally break apart from their last kiss.

"I love you," he tells her, looking down at her with those devoted blue eyes of his. So piercing yet soft and gentle when he's with her and only her.

"I love you too," she says, "and I'm so proud of you."

Coriolanus smiles, hugging her one more time and kissing her temple before he lets her go. Soarynn remains frozen on the platform while her husband strides towards the train, stepping through the door right before the train starts pulling away.

Soarynn waves goodbye with the other wives, with only eyes for her husband who watches her from the door. It's only when he's out of sight that she allows herself to properly cry.

She ignores the sympathetic looks she's given from the other women and trudges back to the car, alone this time.

She cries the whole way home and in the elevator. Maria seems greatly concerned but Soarynn waves her off, she'll be fine in a few days, she remembers being like this the first time he left. Part of her wishes she didn't have to go through this again, that he never came home but she's so glad she got to see Coriolanus again.

Petunia is still lying in bed where they left her this morning, pleased to have her spot back. Soarynn gives her a gentle scratch behind the ears, "Just you and me again," she says sadly. She ought to wash the sheets considering they had sex every night but she refrains from doing so, she'll wash them when his scent is no longer detectable.

Soarynn lies in bed for hours feeling sorry for herself and missing her husband, only venturing into their bathroom when she needs to use it. She walks past the countertops and then her vanity when she notices a small white box sitting on her vanity counter, wrapped in a red bow.

Soarynn reluctantly picks it up and unties the ribbon, letting it all to the floor where Petunia immediately takes it to play with. But Soarynn pays her cat no mind as she opens up the box, softly gasping when she sees what Coriolanus has left for her.

A pregnancy test.

And a note.

Never too soon to find out. Love, Coriolanus

Soarynn chuckles, they both know it's highly unlikely for her to already be pregnant but she appreciates the gesture. She holds the testing device in her fingers, "Might as well try," she mumbles to herself, walking to the small room where their toilet is.

It only takes a few minutes but Soarynn finds herself doing anything but looking at the results. She folds some laundry, fluffs out their bedsheets. Finally, she walks back into the bathroom and turns over the test.

She gasps when she sees two red lines.

She's pregnant.

Newly pregnant, barely pregnant, but pregnant.

She can't believe it. Coriolanus isn't even halfway through his trip back to Five and yet he's left her with a most precious gift. Soarynn rests her hand on her stomach, imagining what it'll look like in a few months.

She's pregnant!

She's going to have a baby. She's going to be a mother, he's going to be a father.

Oh, Coriolanus.

She'll have to write to him at once to deliver the news. She's only a few days along but still.

It's a Christmas miracle.

꧁ ꧂

To my dearest Coriolanus, I'm writing this hours after your departure. I simply cannot wait a moment longer to tell you the wonderful news that I'm pregnant! I know we spoke of it when you first came home but after opening the gift you left me, I'm proud to say that you're going to be a father. I will keep things quiet until I can visit the doctor but I just had to tell you. I miss you with all my heart my love, I pray for your safety and your quick return. Know that not a day goes by where I do not think of you my heart for you are all that I am. I love & miss you already. Love, Soarynn

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galaxyedging · 3 days ago

Text

This is for the Pedrostories Secret Santa Event.

For the lovely @baronessvonglitter

WC: 5.15k

Warnings: Smut. I don't want to give anything away, so proceed with caution.

Summary: The promotion to VP comes with a clause. Will a year in a small town change our readers' plans?

Featuring Joel Miller and Dave York

Christmas In Paris

“Honeymire, as its name suggests, used to be too waterlogged to expand on when the land was settled.” The opening that sounded great in your head doesn't feel right as you say it out loud. “Now that our surveys show that this is no longer the case, we're hoping to bring new life to the town.”

The rest of the presentation runs smoothly. All the data is there. It all points to a great investment opportunity, with high returns. Still, you can see the investors are on the fence. It's been a while since you'd pitched anything in such a rural location. Maybe it was time to switch things up.

“Look, I have to be honest, this goes beyond great projected profits for me.” Like a guarantee of becoming VP of Sales with a huge raise. “I grew up in a town like this. The memories of being part of a community and something bigger than myself helped me get where I am today.” Everyone knowing my business and thinking they had a right to talk about it drove me to the city. “This isn't just an opportunity to make money, it's an opportunity to make a community whole again, to bring new life to the area and give others a fresh start to theirs somewhere they can call home.”

The investors loved the talk of home and community.

Unfortunately, a little too much you think as you open the curtains in the place that had become your home for the last year. The investors handed over way more cash than the company had been expecting, and that figure had been staggeringly high. Your boss had offered you the promotion the next day but with a caveat, you were to move to the town to oversee everything personally. Once the project was finished, you would be welcomed back with a raise, enough to buy that penthouse apartment you'd been eyeing. Your whole future runs through your mind as you get ready for your day until you are abruptly jarred out of them by a grumpy yowl.

“Seriously? You're giving me attitude? You're not even my cat, you little freeloader.” You grumble at the little ball of mixed fur sitting haughtily in the middle of your kitchen floor. Still, you opened a tin of tuna and placed it in the bowl you bought just for her and refreshed her water bowl. “I'm seeing Joel today. I'm going to have him nail that cat flap shut.” You idly threaten as the ginger and black mottled creature eyes you. “Don't look at me like that. He's just a contractor I work with.” You project onto your four-legged companion. Although even the cat could see that things had changed between you and Joel lately.

Joel Miller had come highly recommended when you were looking for contractors in the area. After his daughters moved out for college, he downsized his business and moved north to be closer to them. He'd settled in the same town as his brother to spend time with his family, including his young nephews. You knew quite a bit about Joel. Divorced single father at a young age. He adopted one of his daughter Sarah's friends when her mom passed away. With his brother Tommy's help and sometimes hindrance, as Joel tells it, he built a great business. Aside from his daughters, Tommy was Joel's only close family left. His parents passed away in a car accident when Tommy was in junior high. Joel had pretty much finished raising Tommy and then started raising his own daughter. Joel was easy to talk to while you planned the finer details of the project. Sometimes well into the night, as you got sidetracked by enjoying each other's company. Joel no longer felt like an employee. He felt like something more, a friend or maybe…that potential spiral into no good thoughts is cut off by a heavy knock at your door.

Once your eyes adjust to the figure in front of you backlit by the morning sun on last night's fresh snow, you take in the well-dressed, broad shouldered man in front of you. He makes no secret of doing the same, removing his sunglasses to let his eyes travel your whole body. When his eyes finally reach yours, he speaks “Sorry to disturb you. I got here early, and the man at the gas station said to just knock here. I'm Dave, Dave York.”

“Oh, Mr York! Hi. Er, I wasn't expecting you….” You suddenly feel flustered. Maybe due to the abrupt arrival of your client or due to the fact that he is even hotter than his voice led you to imagine he was.

“I know, and please, Dave. I just woke up and decided to make the drive early. I figured I could get breakfast here and wait, but the guy assured me that you wouldn't mind me knocking.” Dave told you in earnest.

I bet he didn't. Gus was married to the owner of the diner. The two of them were the biggest busybodies in town. They both had plenty to say about a single woman in her forties.

“It's absolutely fine. I just haven't long been up. I haven't had my coffee yet, so doing business is a shock to the system.” You put on your brightest smile to put Dave at ease.

“Well, in that case, the least I can do is get you coffee. I was going to the diner anyway, maybe you can escort me?”

A cup of coffee had sounded innocent enough. Then Reba, Gus’ wife and fellow busybody, had gotten involved, and the next thing you know, you and Dave were eating breakfast together and chatting the morning away. You had to admit that even without Reba’s help, Dave was smooth and confident enough to keep you here. The attraction between the two of you was obvious. Dave flirted openly, though he managed to keep it subtle and classy. There was an air of mystery about him. Even beyond his CIA work, there was a cool reservedness under his charming facade. There was an intensity there, too. Sadly, there were not many men who you could imagine as your equal or, in this case superior, but you could easily imagine Dave dominating you…the third interruption to your thoughts of the day comes courtesy of Joel clearing his throat.

“Sorry to interrupt. I just didn't want to miss our meeting.” Joel lays on the southern charm as he introduces himself to Dave.

It doesn't take an ex-CIA agent to see it's stretched over an underbed of annoyance. Dave acts just as politely, even with the obvious tension in the air, as he gives Joel his own name and his hand.

After what feels like forever, it's your turn to speak. “My apologies to you both. Dave, it was lovely to meet you. You have your keys. Take your time to inspect the property and get back to me with any issues. I have a meeting with Joel, our very competent contractor, who can handle any last-minute requests for your home. Breakfast is on me, well, the company. Enjoy. Joel, let's head over to the office.” Without looking as you make your way to the door seeking the air that had been sucked out of the room, you can tell Dave and Joel take a moment to eye each other.

When Joel finally catches up to you outside, you offer him another apology.

“Don't worry about it. You were obviously busy entertaining your client.” The set of his jaw as he speaks makes you think about punching him in it.

Joel is an extremely handsome man, even with being at home in the same neutral toned flannel every day, you could see him being able to pull off a variety of colours, unfortunately for him envy green didn't suit. The short meeting was conducted in even shorter exchanges. There were no pleasantries or antidotes. No lingering after business was done just to shoot the shit.

It was barely noon when you got home, but you decided to take a long soak in the tub, hoping to wash away the discomfort of the morning. The bath worked to a certain extent. After some time relaxing on your own, you decide that whatever issue Joel had was on him, and Dave was free to handle it however he liked. Tying your robe at the waist, you watch the last of the bubbles drain and give the claw foot tub a quick rinse. The thought of a hot cup of tea and a book in your cosy chair leads you downstairs without even dressing. The water is simmering when you hear a rap on the kitchen window. You know who it is before you open the door.

“Joel.” You open curtly.

“Listen, I'm not too good with words, but I wanted to say sorry for this morning. I...damn it…I guess I got jealous when I saw you with another man. Lately, I've been thinking that maybe when the job is over, you would let me take you out on a date.” For a big man, Joel seems awfully small while he gets that all out. Adorably so. Part of you wants to kiss the little patch in his beard.

“You did alright with your words, Joel. Apology accepted. As for the date, you're right. I would have let you take me on one, but you know as soon as I'm done here, I'm going home. I have to admit this small town living was pretty nice for a while, but I have a career to get back to.” It was your turn to feel small, a career, and not much else.

“I'm from Texas. We drive hours for a football game. A few hours drive for a date with a beautiful woman is nothing.” The way Joel softens for you makes you melt.

All too quickly, you are aware of how close his broad chest is and how naked you are under your thin robe. Those large skilled hands could be on your bare skin in moments. The air shifts between you, throwing out more heat than the roaring fire in your living room. The times you've imagined Joel taking you in front of that thing on your lonely nights here was enough to make a sinner blush. As if you had slipped into a cartoon, the stream whistle blows on your kettle.

“I better…” You pull yourself away from Joel.

Not having those intense brown eyes looking down at you helps to clear your head. “That's really sweet, Joel. Maybe at another time, I would have jumped at the idea, but I'm going to have so much work to do. I have to get familiar with all of our clients, not just the ones I've handled. I need to research new investors and companies to work with. It's just going to be a lot, and I don't want to lead you on.” As if on autopilot, you pour the water over the tea bag, and it becomes the most fascinating thing in the room as you can't lift your face from it for fear of Joel seeing through you. It's not work that is keeping you from accepting his offer. It's fear. Fear of heartbreak, fear of something between you derailing your future plans, fear of so many unknowns.

“I know when to take no for an answer, but if you change your mind, I get good mileage out of my truck, and I keep the tank full.” You can picture the smirk on his face from his voice.

It breaks through enough to make you turn to him. Sure enough, he has that smirk that breaks into that dopey grin he gets after he makes a dad joke when you smile at him.

“I'll keep that in mind. Thank you for understanding.” It's not on the little bare patch, but you can't resist placing a kiss on his cheek.

The closeness of the two of you as you pull away draws your faces together until your lips meet a soft, tender kiss. When you pull away, there is a wordless exchange between you with eyes full of longing, regret, and understanding.

“I'll see you at work tomorrow.” Joel finally provides trying to make things easier on you.

“See you tomorrow, Joel.” You manage a smile for him before seeing him out.

Your tea, book, and cosy chair are long forgotten in favour of throwing yourself on your bed like some lovesick Disney princess. Instead of birds fluttering around you, self-doubt flies about the space of your room.

The ringing of your phone breaks you out of a slumber that you didn't realise had claimed you. Dave York’s name is on your screen. “Hi, Dave. How are you settling in?”

Half an hour later, you are sitting at Dave’s breakfast bar as he details a few changes he would like. “These are all very doable.”

Instantly, you regret your choice of words when you see Dave’s face. The look on it makes it very clear that he caught your double entendre.”Where are my manners? I have even offered you anything to drink.”

Dave moves around the kitchen like he has lived there for years. Something tells you that Dave would move around any space like he owned it. Including the space between your legs. The touch of Joel's lips on yours and the memory of the heat of his body has you feeling a way as you watch Dave's hands competently open the bottle of wine he retrieved from the cabinet over the fridge.

“Red? Or I have some chilled white?” Dave asks as if wine is the only choice.

“Neither, thank you.” You decline while Dave pours himself a healthy glass.

“Alright. You do seem a little tense. I thought it might help you relax. Is it anything to do with your contractor friend?” Dave's line of questioning has you blinking owlishly at him. “I don't mean to pry. He just seemed a bit put out this morning, with us enjoying each other's company, and you don't usually wear that cologne.” All you can do is sit there stunned. A little angry at the audacity, impressed by his attention to detail, a little relieved that it's out in the open. “Look, I know I just got here, but we've been speaking on the phone for a long time now. The way you handle yourself impressed me. Now I have a face, and body, to go with that I'm even more impressed. I enjoyed our breakfast this morning. I'd like to explore that connection further. If things don't work out with your Cowboy Contractor, you can call me. Or I don't mind keeping you company until they do.” Speechless. Speechless and aroused.

“You know….I think I will have that glass of wine.” No other thoughts enter your head until you have downed at least half a glass of the quality merlot that Dave hands you. “Thank you…for the wine and the interest. I would be interested too. I mean, in you, but I have work…and…and Joel and…I…have to be going to conduct work and…Joel…so goodnight.”

Dave seems amused by your rambling as you make your way to the back door. Smiling broadly, he throws a ‘goodnight’ through the narrow gap in the door before you slam it shut.

Taking to your bed seems like a great option again. Laying there fully dressed, the weight of the day drives you into the mattress. This was not what you needed. Not at this stage in your life or at this time of the year. Tomorrow, you were to help with the Christmas festival and entertain prospective buyers. How were you supposed to be a cheery, innocent Santa's helper when you had thoughts of a different type of ‘ho ho ho’ in your mind?

A quick ‘stress relief’ session, a shower, and a new pair of silky snowflake adored pyjamas have you more in the festive mind before you drift off to sleep.

The next morning is non-stop. Both Dave and Joel crossed your path. Dave exchanged morning pleasantries as he returned from a jog in the light snowfall. You remind him about the festival and how important it is. Joel is helping with the stage, so you managed to avoid any long conversation. Aside from your requests from Dave, to be done in the new year, there really wasn't much you had to say to him. He was only going to be here to set up anyway. Lunchtime rolls around, and your stomach pulls you home from the bustling town square to the leftover soup and remainder of yesterday's fresh bread. The drive to the new development was only a few minutes away. When you get there, you wish that it was longer, so you missed the full-blown display of testosterone on your neighbour’s lawn.

“I told you!” Joel spits.

“What do you want? A fucking medal?” Dave snarls back.

“Hey! What is going on?!” You call as soon as you jump out of your car now parked haphazardly on the street.

Both men visibly calm.

Joel speaks first. “The power is out for the block. Dave decided to hang some Christmas lights.” You can tell it pains him not to add some dig at Dave.

“You said the festival was important. I wanted to do my part.” Dave tries to appeal to your good nature and high standards.

“Which would have been great, I'm sure, if you hadn't overloaded the circuit board.” Joel grits out.

Dave moves first, turning squarely to Joel. Joel doesn't move an inch. He just calmly regards Dave’s stance.

“Enough! You can measure who’s is bigger later. Just fix this. Please.” The two of them morphed from scowling dogs to obedient pups at your words.

“We will.” Joel promises with Dave nodding in agreement.

Thankfully, both your stove and water heater ran off gas, so you are still able to eat and shower before changing into your ridiculous elf costume. White and green striped tights covered your legs, clinging to your curvy thighs. A green and red elf dress and hat made up the rest of the costume, and it was completed with elf ears and sparkly rosy cheek makeup.

At first, when you spot Joel and Dave through your window congratulating each other on getting the power back on, relief floods you. The day was back on track, and they seemed to be getting on well, bonus. Sadly, the relief is short-lived when they see you leave the house. The two of them exchange glances and acquire matching shit eater grins.

“Nope. I don't want to hear it. The power is on. You two aren't butting heads on the lawn. Do not ruin it.” You yell at them while scrambling into your car as quickly as possible before they spoil your mood with any jokes.

The festivities went well. The prospective buyers seemed overjoyed with the place. The current town residents seemed to approve of the applicants. Three new families are bringing eight children between them. The adults include a veterinarian, a teacher, and a nurse. Two well-off, quiet retired couples. The business woman was a no show, but she did travel a lot last minute as she'd told you. Santa proved very popular and you by association. It did warm your heart to hand out candy canes and see the children's happy faces. Best of all, Joel and Dave spent most of the day busy somewhere else and only turned up at the end of the day with some booze laden eggnog courtesy of Reba.

“Wow. That could strip paint.” You comment before taking another healthy gulp.

“Easy. We might have to carry you home.” Joel laughs before taking a cautious sip from his own cup.

“Please. I can handle my booze.” You scoff.

Dave raised his eyebrows in approval before raising his cup. “I'll drink to that.”

A few paint-stripped nogs later, the three of you amble home. You are in the middle flanked by your burly protectors.

“You two seem to be getting on better, or is it just the alcohol?” The alcohol has certainly loosened you up. There was no way you would poke the bear like that sober.

“We talked while we worked on the electricity.” Dave begins to explain.

“I don't think she needs all the details.” Joel tries to laugh the whole thing off. Dave doesn't take any notice as he carries on. “You and Joel clearly have a thing, and he was here first, so I'm not going to muscle in on his territory. We've good.”

Joel lets out a quiet ‘goddammit’ as you come to an abrupt stop. “Oh? We've good are we? You two have decided that? You have decided that Joel can lay claim to me since he's planted his flag?!”

“Really? I just thought you kissed.” Dave quips.

Joel looks like he wants to take a swing at the other man.

“So you two have decided who I want? Well, the joke is on you. I want you both.” Wow, the alcohol has just removed your filter completely. “I don't have time for relationships or dating, but it's been a lonely year here, and I want sex and if you two think you can just choose for me, then I can choose you both.”

The indignant tone in your voice is undercut by the bell on your hat tinkling as you fold your arms across your chest.

Dave stalks towards you like a creature in the night. “When you say both, do you mean at the same time? I mean, I'm game. I don't know about, Tex, here.”

The light brush of his fingers across your cheek makes you tremble. The touch adds weight to his words. That's all this is right now, words. They could just walk about, and nothing would come of it. Then Joel moves, too. With complete purpose, straight at you. The kiss he gives you now is nowhere near as chaste as the last one. It's a burning brand of his desire on you. It leaves no doubt of Joel's intentions towards you. When it ends for a moment, you understand what people mean when they say the earth moved. Until you realised Dave had swept you up in his arms. For a second, that little insecure voice worried about him carrying your extra pounds, but it was left in the metaphorical dust as Dave carried you easily through the snow to your door.

With shaking fingers, you try to retrieve the keys from your tiny green felt pouch. When you can't, Dave shoves the purse at Joel, who quickly opens the door while Dave gets his first kiss with you. It's a precision assault with his tongue. He knows just the right amount to use to have you breathless.

The two muscular men block your doorway for a moment when you pull them both in at the same time. Following your lead and using the momentum, the two of them press you into the wall opposite. Dave’s thigh presses between your legs as the two of them kiss your neck. Joel's work hardened hand is gentle as it cups your breasts in turn, thumbing each nipple as he goes. The arousal the action brings jerks your hips into Dave’s tensed thigh.

“You're needy, huh?” Dave teases with his words, and then his hands as he cups your mound. His fingers are spread just so to tease without giving you friction where you need it most.

“Please.” You whisper against Joel's lips as he kisses you once more.

Joel doesn't tease. His thick fingers hitch your skirt up and dive below the waistband of your tights and panties. The first sweep of his fingertips where you need him has your toes curling in your little elf shoes.

“So we're just diving straight in?” Dave shrugs as he drops to his knees.

His moves are no longer light, but they are just as calculated. Ripping the gusset out of your festive tights, he pulls your panties to the side and fills you with two thick digits. A quick come hither motion makes your knees buckle, and Joel pins you up with his hip. With you nestled into his side, Joel takes full advantage of exclusive access to your lips. These kisses are less urgent. He delicately gets to know what you like. Just as he does with his movements on your clit. He follows every whimper and moan changing his pace and pressure to suit. Dave on the other hand has found the spot he's looking for and is relentlessly pumping his fingers in and out. The noise is obscene in your picturesque little hallway. The cusses that spill from your lips as you come around Dave’s fingers are even worse.

“With a mouth like that, you're definitely on the naughty list.” Joel grins, his eyes full of adoration. They darken for a second before he whispers in your ear. “You need your mouth washed out.”

“I hear Paris is lovely this time of year.” Dave chimes in, in between licking your release off of his fingers.

With a plan in mind, the three of you end up in your bedroom. Clothes had all been shed on the way. Some you'd pulled off yourselves. Some had been torn off by others. Somehow, you had ended up on the bed looking up at the two beautifully naked men. Joel was broad and thick with a dark trail of curls leading down to his long, girthy cock. Dave was more lean but no less muscular. His hair was neatly trimmed around the base of his longer, thinner, curved cock.

After you take your time to appreciate them, you reach for them. They lay on either side of you. Their hands run over every inch of your plush flesh. As they kiss, lick and nibble their way over every curve until you are dizzy with need.

Eventually, Joel's hand skims between your legs.

“Fuck.” He breathes, returning his hand there to feel the wetness pooling.

Dave doesn't need any more feedback. He has you ready on your knees before you know it. His cock waiting at your entrance for any signal that you have changed your mind. The only signal you give him is sliding back down his length. You expect some smartass remark, all he gives you is a long moan as he fully bottoms out. You think you might get a softer side of Dave, until he starts thrusting hard and deep. He is so relentless that when Joel brings his weeping tip to your lips you don't even have to think about your movements, your lips just part around him and the movement of your whole body has your head bobbing around him. Only when his thick head nudges your throat do you think to bring your hand, lips, and tongue into play if only to allow you to breathe if nothing else. Dave’s balls slap against you violently as you cup Joel's gently kneading them. Joel whines at the act and threads his hand into your hair. It's more of a caring gesture than a dominant one. His thumb caresses the side of your head. Dave’s thrusts are maddeningly accurate. The pleasure is building rapidly. You don't know how much strength you'll have left once your orgasm hits. You can already tell it will be all consuming and leave you boneless. Desperately, you work Joel harder with your hand. It glides up and down his girth with ease from all the drool they have forced from you. Sucking him into your throat, you trace the thick vein of his shaft with your tongue. Your moans escalate and come out muffled. Dave grunts are pure filth as he nears his climax. Joel leaves you perplexed when he pulls his cock out.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart.” He pants as he starts fucking his own fist. “Is Dave making you feel good? Is he working my pussy right?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh, god.” You grip the sheets beneath you hovering on the edge of oblivion.

“Fuck. You know he's just getting a taste, right? That that little cunt is mine afterwards?” The groan that comes from Joel's chest makes you clamp down around Dave.

“Oh, shit. She likes that. Fuck. Fuck.” Dave's movements speed up clearly on the edge of spilling into you.

“Yeah? You like me talking about how that cunt is mine? Be a good girl and milk his cock for all it's worth.” Your body listens to Joel before you even process his words.

“Fuuuuck. Ugh.” Dave gasps as he fills you with rope after rope of his cum. He carries on thrusting until he's soft, driving his seed deep.

“Tongue out.” Joel groans.

You react just in time to catch the second spurt across your face.

“Oh. Ohh.” Joel's hand keeps fisting his cock until he is thoroughly wrung out. His cum covers your cheeks and chin.

As post orgasm clarity sets in, Joel silently hands you his shirt to clean up while Dave wanders off to find his clothes.

The Christmas festival in Honeymire seems like a lifetime ago. In reality, it has only been a year. The cosy chair that once looked out over the town now looks out over the skyline of the city. The view that your promotion bought you in your dream penthouse apartment. Everything had gone to plan. With maybe a couple of exceptions.

“Hey, Mama, we're home.” The familiar voice of your boyfriend calls from the front door while he kicks off his shoes.

“Hi, was my baby good? Were you a good girl?” You coo as you pick the carrier up to check on the furry occupier while she can't sculk away from your affection.

“She was great. The new vet gave her a clean bill of health. I had a hard time explaining why she's called ‘Freeloader’.” Joel kisses your cheek after hanging up his jacket.

“She eats my food, growls at me and has a weird way of showing her affection. What else would I call her?” You shrug.

“In my experience? Ellie.” Joel snorts.

You muse as you let your furry dependant loose. “They do have the same ‘cross me and I'll cut you’ vibe. Even if they are both adorable with it.”

Joel smiles broadly at the thought of the challenging teen who managed to get into environmental law. “Yeah. I'm just glad she's channeling that energy into saving the world.”

The prideful look on Joel's face makes you love him even more. You can't help but cuddle into him. “Speaking of, when are the girls leaving Tommy's after Christmas?”

Joel thinks for a moment. “The 29th. Why?”

Laying your head on his shoulder, you nonchalantly reply. “Nothing. Just Dave texted and asked if we wanted to spend New Year's in Paris.”

#pedrostories #pedrostoriesgift24 #secret santa #joel miller #dave york #smut

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