#this is not intended to set up‏‏‎ ‎dorothea as a love rival

[radioromantic-moved]

drabblecember: falling asleep somewhere that isn't the bed

finally had time to write and of course bernie had to be the first one with a fic. she deserves it. i know a drabble is supposed to be like. a couple hundred words but this is over 700 unfortunately </3 when the words flow they flow. (prompts list!)

summary: bernie and antigone the night of the ball (which apparently doesn't have a name? the‏‏‎ ‎white‏‏‎ ‎heron‏‏‎ ‎cup is just the associated event?)

There’s a knock at Bernadetta’s door. She startles, heartbeat speeding up. Oh, Goddess, I thought everyone was still at the ball! What if someone noticed I left early and I’m going to get in trouble? What if they think I’m not participating enough in Academy culture and I get expelled? I really really really don’t want to go home--

“Hey, Bernie. It’s just me. Sorry if I scared you.”

Her heart calms a little. It’s just Antigone. Reliable, kind, funny, admittedly-still-a-little-scary Antigone. She’s not getting expelled. (Tonight.)

“You doing okay?”

“I’m alright,” she manages to squeak out. “Just, you know…I--I’m really not good at these sorts of things, and there were just so many people and everything was so loud and it’s just so much calmer in here. S--sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. As long as you’re comfortable in there. If you wanted to come back to the party, I could save a dance for you, but if you need to take the rest of the evening to yourself, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Um. Y--you could come in, if you wanted?”

Antigone doesn’t say anything back right away, and Bernie panics. Oh, she’s really messed everything up this time, that was such a weird thing to say, why is she so weird all the time what is WRONG with her!

“I’d be happy to, as long as you’re okay with that.”

“Oh! Oh, um--okay, let me just unlock the door--”

She fumbles with her locks (she managed to get two extras installed) until the door swings open. Antigone steps inside and sits cross-legged on the floor. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be at the ball? You looked like you were having fun,” she says, sitting down next to them. It makes her nervous to look down to make eye contact with someone, but it also makes her nervous to look up to make eye contact with someone so in a perfect world she would just be the same height as everyone.

“I was! For a while there it was really nice! But after a few hours I just get kind of…all burned out on that stuff. Like you said. Too many people, too loud, all that. I was going to head home for the night, but I saw you had left and I wanted to make sure you were feeling okay.”

“I…I didn’t know stuff like that happened to you,” Bernie says slowly. “You always seem so…cool. And put together and exciting! You seem like you’d be the life of the party.”

An image rises quickly into her mind of Dorothea laughing at a joke Antigone told earlier in the evening and kissing their cheek. It makes her chest tighten uncomfortably, and she tries to ignore it. 

Antigone laughs a bit. “I know, right? You’d think! But the thing is…I like dancing, and getting dressed up fancy and all, but after spending a lot of time surrounded by other people I always find myself wishing I was alone with a book or some new invention. It doesn’t mean I don’t like them, just means…I need my own space sometimes.”

“Huh,” Bernie says softly. 

She smiles.

Antigone runs their fingers through their hair. “Do you mind if I take off this suit jacket? I’ve got on underclothes and all that--this isn’t a proposition, I’d never proposition you--just didn’t realize I was sweaty until now and now the texture’s making me wanna gnaw off my arms.”

“T--that’s okay,” stammers Bernie, a little caught up on the very suggestion that anyone would proposition her.

Antigone slides their jacket off. “That’s better,” they sigh.

Their eyes flit to a book half-hidden under her bed. “Whoa, is that the first book in the Frost Diamond Chronicles? I didn’t know you read those!”

“I didn’t know you did!”

“Bernie, at this point I’ve practically worked my way through‏‏‎ ‎Garreg‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎Mach’s whole library. Ask me about any title and I will have an opinion.”

She takes them up on their offer. 

It’s nearly an hour later that the conversation slows, and then no more words are spoken at all as Antigone leans their head on Bernie’s shoulder. She tenses at the physical contact, but it’s only half out of fear and half out of a strong, terrible desire for human connection she didn’t realize was quite so extreme until just now. 

As gently as she can, she tugs a blanket down from her bed and wraps it around the both of them. Then, slowly, gently, every-so-slightly shakily, she rests her head on Antigone’s.

As the lantern burns out, the two students fall asleep.

[radioromantic-moved]

drabblecember: falling asleep somewhere that isn't the bed

finally had time to write and of course bernie had to be the first one with a fic. she deserves it. i know a drabble is supposed to be like. a couple hundred words but this is over 700 unfortunately </3 when the words flow they flow. (prompts list!)

summary: bernie and antigone the night of the ball (which apparently doesn't have a name? the‏‏‎ ‎white‏‏‎ ‎heron‏‏‎ ‎cup is just the associated event?)

There’s a knock at Bernadetta’s door. She startles, heartbeat speeding up. Oh, Goddess, I thought everyone was still at the ball! What if someone noticed I left early and I’m going to get in trouble? What if they think I’m not participating enough in Academy culture and I get expelled? I really really really don’t want to go home--

“Hey, Bernie. It’s just me. Sorry if I scared you.”

Her heart calms a little. It’s just Antigone. Reliable, kind, funny, admittedly-still-a-little-scary Antigone. She’s not getting expelled. (Tonight.)

“You doing okay?”

“I’m alright,” she manages to squeak out. “Just, you know…I--I’m really not good at these sorts of things, and there were just so many people and everything was so loud and it’s just so much calmer in here. S--sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. As long as you’re comfortable in there. If you wanted to come back to the party, I could save a dance for you, but if you need to take the rest of the evening to yourself, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Um. Y--you could come in, if you wanted?”

Antigone doesn’t say anything back right away, and Bernie panics. Oh, she’s really messed everything up this time, that was such a weird thing to say, why is she so weird all the time what is WRONG with her!

“I’d be happy to, as long as you’re okay with that.”

“Oh! Oh, um--okay, let me just unlock the door--”

She fumbles with her locks (she managed to get two extras installed) until the door swings open. Antigone steps inside and sits cross-legged on the floor. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be at the ball? You looked like you were having fun,” she says, sitting down next to them. It makes her nervous to look down to make eye contact with someone, but it also makes her nervous to look up to make eye contact with someone so in a perfect world she would just be the same height as everyone.

“I was! For a while there it was really nice! But after a few hours I just get kind of…all burned out on that stuff. Like you said. Too many people, too loud, all that. I was going to head home for the night, but I saw you had left and I wanted to make sure you were feeling okay.”

“I…I didn’t know stuff like that happened to you,” Bernie says slowly. “You always seem so…cool. And put together and exciting! You seem like you’d be the life of the party.”

An image rises quickly into her mind of Dorothea laughing at a joke Antigone told earlier in the evening and kissing their cheek. It makes her chest tighten uncomfortably, and she tries to ignore it. 

Antigone laughs a bit. “I know, right? You’d think! But the thing is…I like dancing, and getting dressed up fancy and all, but after spending a lot of time surrounded by other people I always find myself wishing I was alone with a book or some new invention. It doesn’t mean I don’t like them, just means…I need my own space sometimes.”

“Huh,” Bernie says softly. 

She smiles.

Antigone runs their fingers through their hair. “Do you mind if I take off this suit jacket? I’ve got on underclothes and all that--this isn’t a proposition, I’d never proposition you--just didn’t realize I was sweaty until now and now the texture’s making me wanna gnaw off my arms.”

“T--that’s okay,” stammers Bernie, a little caught up on the very suggestion that anyone would proposition her.

Antigone slides their jacket off. “That’s better,” they sigh.

Their eyes flit to a book half-hidden under her bed. “Whoa, is that the first book in the Frost Diamond Chronicles? I didn’t know you read those!”

“I didn’t know you did!”

“Bernie, at this point I’ve practically worked my way through‏‏‎ ‎Garreg‏‏‎ ‎Mach’s whole library. Ask me about any title and I will have an opinion.”

She takes them up on their offer. 

It’s nearly an hour later that the conversation slows, and then no more words are spoken at all as Antigone leans their head on Bernie’s shoulder. She tenses at the physical contact, but it’s only half out of fear and half out of a strong, terrible desire for human connection she didn’t realize was quite so extreme until just now. 

As gently as she can, she tugs a blanket down from her bed and wraps it around the both of them. Then, slowly, gently, every-so-slightly shakily, she rests her head on Antigone’s.

As the lantern burns out, the two students fall asleep.