ayo, i'm sincerely tipsy on a two year old beaujolais (dry fruity french red wine) - would you consider writing something about sharing a good bottle of wine with zemo or laszlo?
Slight warning for canon violence and a little body horror, all canon to the show also look out for spoilers. Also reader works in the police department with Sara but no gender is specified.
Soft crackling filled the room, the heat of the fire kissing any bit of exposed flesh. You’d been sitting in front of the fireplace for the better part of an hour listening to John, Sara, Laszlo and the Isaacson twins spew facts out about the most recent murder. You sat staring into the flames rather than getting involved.
It wasn’t until a glass was pressed into your hands that you finally tore your eyes away. Seated across from you was Laszlo, himself holding a glass of wine. “Dr. Kreizler, should you not be working on the case?” You questioned.
The man hummed, swirling the liquid in circles with his left hand. “Unfortunately I must also relieve myself of the gruesome details from time to time.” A subtle nod drew your attention to the bottle of wine, the cork laying haphazardly to the side. You let out a breath.
“Laszlo, this is far too expensive.” You brought both hands around the glass.
The doctor huffed out what could only be described as a dry chuckle. “Relax, I assure you, it would have just sat and collected dust.” The shuffling of feet slowly drew out of the room and down the hall, leaving you with your frazzled companion.
Finally, you brought the glass to your lips, relishing in the luxury drink. “It is not often I see you so arbitrarily slack Laszlo.” You smiled as your gaze shot down to look at the wine, not missing the way his gaze softened. “Though, I suppose it is nice.”
A brief silence dusted the room. Mentally, you noted that it was likely the first time you’d been alone with the troubled alienist in which he wasn’t discussing brutal slaughter. Details you’d overheard started to slowly worm their way through your mind. Eyes removed. Hands taken. Mutilated-
“Do you play piano, my dear?” It was uttered so quietly you could have missed it. Your eyes met with the set of deep of umber ones adjacent to you. In honesty, you were sure he didn’t really care about the answer-- rather, he’d probably seen you begin to intensely focus and decided to step in-- but you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped.
You cleared your throat, downing the rest of the wine, ignoring the way it nearly made you choke. “I have dabbled. Afraid I’ve never had the time, working in the police department has made sure of that. I’m sure Sara could attest.”
“Well, what do you like to do, then?” Laszlo leaned back in his chair, taking an opportunity to refill his glass and pass you the bottle to do the same.
You weren’t exactly sure how much you spoke, or drank for that matter. What you were sure of, however, was that you’d seen a completely different side of Laszlo Kreizler. From then on, he was softer with he way he spoke to you and often invited you to spend evenings in his home with another bottle of wine and pages of evidence.
Curiosity radiated off of the rest of the little detective group, but John Moore was just glad that Laszlo could find the time to even slightly relax.
gracieabrams
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
gummygunk
yousharknotpass
pixelskylines
