#this takes place in a nebulous timeline where ive taken canon and fixed it with a hammer

[mozukumi]

that klavier is such a nice boy, you know

Apollo and Thalassa were eating lunch at Paulette’s Cafe when it happened. The restaurant had opened less than a week ago, and had been generating quite a lot of buzz. Personally, Apollo thought the food was nothing special and the prices were ridiculous, but he had been enjoying the outing nonetheless. It was always nice to spend time with his…

With Thalassa.

He wasn’t ready to call her mom. Not yet.

But they were getting there. They tried to have lunch once a week, when their schedules permitted it.

Just as they were beginning their entrees, it started to play. In Pursuit of Justice, Klavier Gavin’s new hit single.

“What do you think of it?” Thalassa asked.

“It’s over salted and the spinach is undercooked, but it’s perfectly edible.”

She laughed slightly - less refined then he was used to seeing her. “While I am sorry to hear that, it is not what I meant. The song, Apollo.”

He considered the question as he took another bite of the salty spinach. He hadn’t consciously noticed the music until she pointed it out.

“It’s fine, I guess. It’s generic and inoffensive, but it’s nothing special,” he said. Almost begrudgingly, he blushed and added that “the vocals are nice, though.”

“Generic…? I do not know what ‘indie’ music you’ve been listening to, but justice and the law are not common themes in most modern music.”

“I meant generic for him. All of his songs are basically just ‘Wow, I love the law! Metaphor for sex via tort reform! Achtung!’. I think it’s great he’s getting the next generation into legal careers, but I’ve already drank the kool-aid. It doesn’t do much for me.”

She looked at him mysteriously. She did everything mysteriously, he thought.

“You give Mr. Gavin too little credit. I have collaborated with him in writing a song - he puts much thought into his lyrics.”

He thought she was giving him too much credit, but refrained from snarking. He could look up the lyrics on one of those explanation sites later. He took a drink of his water.

“He thinks quite highly of you,” she said.

He spat out his water in a cartoonish manner. “What?”

“I don’t understand why you are so surprised, Apollo! He is not shy in his feelings for you.”

Apollo pointedly chose to ignore her use of the word feelings. It was probably a translation error. She once told him that Borginian was a far less emotional language than English. She probably didn’t know the connotation that feelings held.

Even if she did, she certainly didn’t know how that connotation made Apollo feel.

“It was an abrupt change of subject,” he explained. “His lyrics don’t have much to do with his - his feelings for me.”

“Is that what you believe?”

Apollo begrudged, not for the first time, the fact that everyone in his life seemed to speak to him in riddles. Mr. Wright, Dhurke, and now her too.

“Yes, that is what I believe. What are you trying to get at?”

She paused before speaking. “It makes me happy to see that you have kind people in your life - people that care deeply for you. I wanted you to know how lucky you are to have them.”

Apollo felt embarrassed as she spoke. It was as if he was a 7 year old boy, and she was cooing about how many friends he was making in school.

But she never got to do that when he was 7. Perhaps it was only right she got to make up for lost time.

And Apollo had to admit - she was right. He was lucky to have Trucy and Ema and Clay and Klavier in his life. They were smart, funny, kind, and occasionally the biggest pains in his ass. He couldn’t ask for better friends.

Still - the idea of Klavier caring deeply about him made Apollo flushed.

“I know. I’m very grateful.”

-

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