Dusk

He/him, fanfic writer (requests open)

[idiashroudshusband]

Loading… // Idia Shroud x Reader - Fluff

The dormitory of Ignihyde was silent, save for the soft hum of computer fans and the flickering glow of blue flames that danced in the darkness. It was past midnight—Idia’s favorite time of day. A time when he didn’t have to worry about forced social interactions or the suffocating expectations of the outside world.

And yet… tonight felt different.

You were sitting in his room, curled up on his bed, bathed in the soft neon glow of his monitors. One of Idia’s favorite animes was playing on a monitor, both of you watching it. Idia still couldn’t quite process how this happened. How you happened.

You, who somehow weren’t put off by his reclusive nature.

You, who laughed and payed attention at his ramblings about obscure game lore instead of getting bored.

You, who leaned close enough that he could smell the faint scent of your shampoo, making his heart rate skyrocket like he was facing a final boss with no HP left.

“Idia?” Your voice right next to him pulled him out of his spiral, and he jolted, nearly knocking over his energy drink.

“W-W-What?” He tugged his hoodie down over his face, soft pink flames sparking erratically at the tips. “D-Don’t sneak up on me like that! Critical damage to my heart gauge…”

You chuckled, resting your chin on your palm. “I’ve been here the whole time, you know.”

“Th-that’s even worse,” he muttered, burying his face deeper into his hood.

It had started with small things. You bringing him food when he forgot to eat (that wasnt just energy drinks and candy, though you did buy some for him on occasion), waiting for him outside the mandatory classes he had to attend, even when he insisted he was completley fine going alone, coaxing him out of his shell little by little. And now? Now you were in his personal space, sitting in his room, watching his favorite anime with him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

If this were an otome game, you’d definitely be on the true romance route, and that terrified him.

“…You okay?”

Idia stiffened when he felt your fingers brush against his wrist, hesitant but warm. He swallowed, feeling his throat go dry. His mind screamed at him to pull away, to hide behind his screen where it was safe. But he didn’t.

Instead, he let out a shaky breath and mumbled, “I just… I don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“Why you’re here.”

You blinked, tilting your head. “Because I want to be?”

“That’s—” His brain short-circuited. “That doesn’t make sense. I mean, I’m not exactly protagonist material. I’m not cool and confident like the other housewardens, I don’t do well in crowds, and I—” He hesitated. “I’m… kind of a pain to be around.”

You frowned. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is.” He forced a laugh. “I mean, I literally have a stat debuff in social situations. If this were a dating sim, my affection points would be so low that I wouldn’t even unlock the friendship ending-”

“Idia.”

You said his name so softly, so gently, that it stopped him cold. Before he could spiral further, you scooted closer and took his hand in yours. His entire system crashed.

“I like you,” you said simply, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. “Not in a ‘background NPC’ way, or in a ‘pity route’ way. Just… you.”

His throat clenched. His fingers twitched in your grasp, as if debating whether to hold on or pull away. The warmth of your touch, so foreign yet addicting, made his head spin.

“B-But…”

“No buts,” you interrupted, squeezing his hand. “You don’t have to be some overpowered anime protagonist. You’re you, and that’s more than enough. I like you for being you.”

Idia’s heart thudded against his ribs, his flames flickering a soft, pastel pink—his face dusted with a soft rosy blush. His mind still screamed that this had to be some elaborate dream, a rare gacha pull that he’d wake up from any second.

But then you smiled at him, patient and unwavering, and suddenly, for the first time in a long time… he didn’t mind the idea of stepping outside his comfort zone.

Just a little.

Maybe.

If it was with you.

I love writing silly cute fanfics about my favorite little guy <3333

[idiashroudshusband]

Spectral Circut - Idia Shroud x Reader / Fluff

It was a quiet, lazy afternoon at Night Raven College. The kind of day that begged for an escape into another world—specifically, the fantastical realms of anime. Idia Shroud had invited you to his room to watch some shows. Well, technically, you had half-suggested it first, and he mumbled something that sounded like “Y-Yeah, okay,” his hair flaring a nervous pink at the ends, before retreating to his room.

Now, here you were, standing outside the door of his dorm room, feeling your heartbeat speed up with every passing second. You knocked once—barely loud enough for a person to hear—but it was too late to back out now. You heard shuffling, the sound of something falling, and then his voice.

“Uh… come in. Door’s open!”

You opened the door to a room lit only by the soft blue light of multiple monitors and various tech around his room and the faint blue hue of his glowing hair. Idia was standing in the middle of the room, looking down and nervously playing with his hands, his hair blushed a soft pink tinge* “H-Hey…” he said softly, glancing up at you nervously. “Y-You actually came. I mean, of course, you came. We said we’d—uh, yeah.”

“Hey,” you replied, stepping further in, feeling a little awkward yourself.

There was a silence—comfortable but charged with something new and thrilling.

“I have- um… a few options,” Idia began, moving to sit down on the edge of his bed. “S-So, we could watch whatever you feel like. No pressure. I mean, it’s just, uh, anime. Nothing fancy.” He picks up his tablet and pulls up a glowing keyboard, one of his hands typing away at it as he pulls over the screen over his bed.

You sat beside him so you could watch what he was doing, careful to keep a respectable distance but close enough that you could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. The bed dipped under your weight, making the space between you shrink just a little more.

“What did you pick?” you asked, peering at the screen.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he scrolled through the list. “Uh, a few classics, some new stuff. This one’s a rom-com—wait, n-never mind, that’s lame. Maybe this action series? Or, uh, this one’s about video game worlds—totally not a self-insert thing!”

“I’m fine with whatever you want,” you said softly, smiling.

His fingers twitched, his eyes darting toward you briefly before looking back down. “O-Okay. Cool. Let’s start with this one, then.”

The opening theme began to play and you moved, sitting up against the headboard, settled into the pillows, feeling yourself relax. Idia sat stiffly beside you, his hands gripping each other like they might run away if he didn’t hold them tight enough.

As the first episode progressed, you leaned ever so slightly closer, pretending to adjust a pillow but really just trying to bridge the space between you. Idia noticed—of course, he noticed—but he didn’t say anything. His hair flickered pink, his cheeks softly flushing.

When a particularly funny scene played, you both laughed. The sound of your laughter together filled the small, dark room. Idia glanced at you again, his lips quirking into the tiniest, shyest smile.

“This… this isn’t so bad,” he murmured.

You turned to look at him, your eyes meeting. “Yeah. It’s nice.”

The anime continued, but neither of you really paid much attention anymore. Your hands were so close they were almost touching. Almost.

With a sudden burst of bravery, you shifted your hand slightly, brushing your pinky against his. Idia froze. His hair flared pink, looking away as his hair gives the room a soft rosy glow, and he quickly tried to compose himself, but the damage was done.

“S-Sorry!” he stammered, pulling his hand back. “I didn’t—! I mean—!”

You smiled gently and placed your hand over his, squeezing it lightly. “It’s okay, Idia. I’m kinda nervous too.”

His eyes widened, and then, slowly, he let your hand rest in his. His grip was tentative, his fingers cool but steady.

And as the second episode began to play, you both settled into a new kind of comfort, hearts racing but finally a little more at ease. The screen glowed, the characters moved, and in the quiet of Idia’s room, a small, sweet connection grew.

—————————

yeah uh i hope u enjoyed i love my silly little blue guy so muchh hes so skrunkly silly i wanna hold him and put him in a jar like a bug and study him cuz hes my pookie bear 😻

[idiashroudshusband]

Iridescent Flames - Idia Shroud x Reader / Fluff

It was a quiet evening in Idia Shroud’s dorm room—well, as quiet as it ever got, with the hum of gaming consoles, the beep of notifications from an in-game chat, and the gentle clatter of buttons being pressed with practiced speed. The room was dim, lit only by the glow of multiple screens and neon-blue fire from Idia’s ever-present hair.

You sat cross-legged on his bed behind him, as he sat on the floor in front of you, a floating pop up screen displaying his game in front of him, your hands sifting gently through the cascade of blue flames that danced like silk under your fingers. Despite the fact that it wasn’t hair in the traditional sense, it was oddly soft, warm, and surprisingly pliable. Idia had been skeptical at first when you suggested braiding it.

“You really wanna… mess with this?” he had muttered, fidgeting with the buttons on his controller. “I mean, it’s—uh—it’s not normal hair. It’s basically fire..”

“And it’s beautiful,” you’d countered, already reaching for the bright strands with an eager smile. “and I’m not seeing it burning me at all.”

Now, as you gently worked your fingers through his hair, parting it into sections, Idia sat cross-legged on the floor, fully absorbed in his latest dungeon crawl. His focus was split between dodging traps and managing his party’s health bars, but every so often, he made a soft sound—half a sigh, half a contented hum—when your fingers grazed his scalp.

"Hey, careful," he muttered as a sudden flash on the screen made him wince. "If you pull too hard, I’ll—gah!" He flinched as his character narrowly avoided a fireball. "Okay, okay, that wasn’t you. That was the boss. Totally the boss."

You laughed softly, leaning forward to press your forehead against the back of his head. "Relax. I’m not going to hurt you. And besides, I think I’m getting the hang of this."

"Yeah?" His voice dropped into a mumble, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink, the ends of his hair turning a soft rosy pink.

"Yep. Almost done with this braid." You twisted the final section neatly, securing it with a small hair tie you'd had on your wrist. "There. How does it feel?"

Idia shifted slightly, pausing his game to reach up and touch the neatly woven braid. The ends flickered like a candle flame, giving off a soft glow. His fingers lingered over the intricate pattern you’d created. His cheeks flushed, and a small smile appeared on his face.

"...It’s nice," he admitted, so quietly you barely caught it.

Your smile grew. "Nice enough to let me do another?"

A long pause. Then, a tiny nod.

"Just… don’t tell Ortho," he muttered, going back to his game. "He’ll take pictures and turn it into a slideshow or something embarrassing."

You giggled, already unbraiding his hair to do another hair style with his fire-blue hair. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

[idiashroudshusband]

Echoes in the Dark - Klance / Angst

The world felt wrong.

Lance McClain could sense it before anyone told him, like the wind had stopped breathing, the stars had dimmed, and gravity had shifted. The hangar of the Castle of Lions buzzed with activity as Blades of Marmora operatives disembarked their ships, moving with grim efficiency. But there was no sign of him. No sign of Keith.

"Where’s Keith?" he asked, forcing a laugh as he jogged toward Kolivan, who was speaking in hushed tones to Shiro. "Where is he? He promised he’d be back before the mission debrief."

Kolivan’s head turned slowly, his eyes heavy with a truth that Lance didn’t want.

"Lance," Shiro whispered, his voice low and broken.

Lance’s breath hitched. "No," he said, his smile faltering as he stepped back, his chest tightening with dread. "No. Don’t. Don’t say it."

Shiro took a step forward. "The mission was compromised—"

"Don’t." Lance’s voice cracked, louder this time. "He’s coming back." His heart raced. "Keith always comes back." He always manages to..

Silence.

Kolivan bowed his head. "Keith gave his life to complete the mission. He… saved us all."

"No." The word left Lance’s mouth as a whisper, then again as a growl. "No! He’s not dead. He wouldn’t just—he’s Keith! He doesn’t die!" His hands balled into fists as he glared at Kolivan, chest heaving. "You’re lying! Where is he?"

The Blade of Marmora leader remained silent, his sorrow a quiet weight that said everything.

Lance felt his knees weaken. His mind spun in a blur of memories—Keith’s smirks, his sharp comebacks, the rare smiles when Lance finally got him to laugh. His eyes squeezed shut, as if willing himself to wake from this nightmare.

"I didn’t… I didn’t even say goodbye," he whispered. His voice trembled, breaking into pieces as tears slipped free. "I didn’t get to tell him… how much he mattered. How much I—"

The words hung in the air, unfinished and broken.

Shiro placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder. "He knew. Lance, I promise you—he knew.”

Lance pulled away, shaking his head violently. "It’s not enough!" he shouted. His fists slammed against the nearest wall, his knuckles splitting on impact. The pain barely registered. "I should’ve been there. I should’ve—"

"You couldn’t have stopped him," Shiro said softly. "Keith made his choice. He did what he always does—he makes rash decisions on his own.. He protects people.. He always puts others before himself.."

"I didn’t ask him to protect me!" Lance choked out, tears streaming freely now. "I didn’t want him to be a hero! I just wanted him to stay! I wanted—" His voice collapsed into a broken sob as he slid down the wall, burying his face in his hands.

The room felt too quiet. Even the sounds of the others on the ship, the other members of the Blade of Marmora, all their noises were drowned out. It was too cold. The kind of silence where Keith’s warmth used to live, where his fierce presence had always kept them steady. And now, there was only the hollow space where he used to be.

Lance gripped his chest, the ache unbearable. "He can’t be gone," he whispered. "I didn’t tell him I loved him. I never told him.”

Kolivan stepped forward, placing something in Lance’s trembling hand. A familiar black and purple knife. Keith’s Marmora blade.

Lance clenched it so tightly it cut into his skin, as if holding onto it would somehow pull Keith back.

The stars outside the Castle burned bright, but all Lance could feel was darkness.

Yeah the Klace fans cant be happy and I’m here to contribute to that.

[idiashroudshusband]

Tranquil Tides - Neuvillette x Reader / Fluff

The soft melody of distant fountains and music filled the air as you strolled along Fontaine’s quiet canals, the city aglow with the warm hues of sunset. The waters shimmered, reflecting the golden light as you glanced to your side, heart fluttering when your gaze met Neuvillette’s. He walked with poise, hands clasped behind his back, the ever-dignified Iudex of Fontaine, but there was a gentleness to him this evening—a serenity that softened the usually stoic lines of his face.

Tonight, there were no judgments to be made, no trials to preside over. Tonight, it was just the two of you.

“You seem.. at ease,” you remarked, your voice breaking the comfortable silence between you. “It’s… different from the Neuvillette I usually see in the Opera Epiclese and in the city.”

He glanced down at you, the barest hint of a smile curving his lips. “It is rare that I have the luxury to enjoy such tranquility. Fontaine’s people are often turbulent with disputes, and my duty keeps me bound to their flow.” His eyes softened. “But this… this is a welcome change.”

Your cheeks warmed at the sincerity in his words. “I’m glad,” you whispered, feeling the rhythm of your heart quicken.

As you walked, the path led to a quiet pavilion overlooking the ocean. The view stretched endlessly, the horizon painted in shades of amber and violet. A table had been prepared—a simple but elegant setting with a pitcher, of what you assumed was water, and delicate pastries. Neuvillette pulled out a chair for you with a graceful motion, his every action measured and thoughtful.

“You didn’t have to go to so much trouble,” you said, sitting down.

“It was no trouble at all.” He sat down himself, pouring you both glasses of clear water, his long fingers moving with practiced ease. “I wished to create a peaceful moment. Fontaine’s grandeur can be overwhelming, but sometimes, the simplest things are the most meaningful.”

You watched the bubbles move in the glass, your heart warmed not by the drink, but by the man before you. “Thank you, Neuvillette. This is… perfect.”

He inclined his head, his expression serene but his eyes filled with something deeper—an undercurrent of emotion that he often kept carefully hidden. “It pleases me to hear that.”

The pastries were delicious, soft and very irrisistable. You took a sip of your water, savoring the quiet between you. The world felt far away, the only sound the lapping of water against the shore and the occasional cry of a flatcrest fulmar. You felt at peace in a way that was rare, as if time itself had slowed just for this.

“I must confess,” he said after a moment, his voice quiet but steady. “I do not fully understand the nuances of… courting.” His eyes met yours, filled with honesty and the faintest hint of vulnerability. “I have not.. done anything like this in my years being alive…But I find myself drawn to you, as the rivers are drawn to the sea. There is a calmness when we speak, a stillness that I do not often find in my duties.”

Your breath caught at his words, a warmth blooming in your chest. “You’re doing just fine,” you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips. “Being here, sharing this moment—it’s more than enough.”

Neuvillette’s gaze lingered on you, a rare softness in his expression. “Then I will endeavor to cherish it.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you sat together, the world a blur beyond the quiet connection between you. The waters of Fontaine might always be restless, but for now, in this fleeting, perfect moment, they were calm—and so was your heart.

[idiashroudshusband]

Homecooked - Jiaoqiu x Reader / Fluff

The door to your apartment creaked softly as you pushed it open, the weight of a long day hanging heavily on your shoulders. Your work had been particularly exhausting—staying overtime and you were absolutley beat. You just wanted to take off your shoes, lie down, and forget the world for a while.

But as you stepped inside, something was different. The usual silence of Jiaoqiu not being there was replaced by the warm, comforting scent of something delicious wafting from the kitchen, something you hadn’t smelled in months.

You blinked, taken aback. "Jiaoqiu?" you called out, almost wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you.

"Right here," came the soft response. Jiaoqiu appeared in the doorway, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his apron, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I hope you don’t mind. I thought I'd make dinner tonight."

You stood there for a moment, trying to process the sight. Jiaoqiu, the ever-diligent and caring individual, stood in your kitchen—an area you never expected to see him in, given his usual calm and scholarly demeanor. But here he was, his cheeks flushed with concentration, his eyes shut from his unfortunate blindness, holding onto the pot with a glove and stirring the soup.

"Jiaoqiu, you… cooked?" you asked, your voice betraying a mixture of surprise and curiosity. You couldn’t believe your eyes, wanting to know how?

He chuckled softly, his smile growing a bit sheepish.”I’ve missed being in the kitchen.." You look around the kitchen, and you see the spices out on the counter, in a line, all seeminly organized. The same goes for the utensils and pots, all having been organized in a way so he knows exactly where everything is. He had managed to find a way to do something he loves to do even when his unfortunate situation normally wouldnt allow him to.

Your heart warmed at the thought, and the tension you’d been carrying all day seemed to melt away. "You didn’t have to cook for me…but I’m really glad you did." You were estatic, smiling happily as you watch your husband work on making you dinner. He was careful, both of his hands wearing heat gloves, gently reaching out for what he needed, and using his foxian nose to determine he had the spice he needed.

You both stayed in silence, but you knew he still knew you were there with him.

As he finished cooking, the scent of the meal filled the room—a savory mix of spices, tender meat, and vegetables simmering together perfectly. Jiaoqiu carefully plated the dish and set it before you on the table, the presentation neat but humble, just like him.

"Go ahead, try it," he encouraged, his voice soft but filled with hope. He was praying he hadnt messed anything up..

You picked up your spoon, the first bite surprising you with how comforting and flavorful it was. The balance of flavors was perfect, the tenderness of the meat complemented by the richness of the sauce. It was the kind of food that made you feel like you were home, wrapped in warmth and care.

You sigh, letting out a hum if appreciation. "This is... incredible," you said, looking up at him in awe. "Jiaoqiu, I didn’t expect this.. its delicious. You’ve outdone yourself."

He blushed slightly, his smile growing wider. "I’m glad you think so. I spent a lot of time on it, and I wanted to make sure it was just right for you.. I’ve missed cooking for you..”

As you continued to eat, the two of you talked—about the day, about trivial things, about little bits of life that felt less significant but more intimate in the moment. It was clear this meant more to him than just cooking.

"You know," you said between bites, a smile tugging at your lips, "this is exactly what I needed. Thank you."

His smile softened as he tilted his head and turned towards you. “I’m happy to do it. Your happiness means a lot to me."

The night passed quietly as you finished your meal, Jiaoqiu staying by your side, content in knowing he had made a difference in your day. You realized that, in this small, simple act of cooking, he’d given you something far more valuable than just food—he had given you a moment of peace and a reminder that even on the hardest days, there was still comfort to be found.

[idiashroudshusband]

Forgotten - Lyney x Reader / Angst

The heavy velvet curtains of the Opera Epiclese were still fresh with the scent of excitement and the afterglow of applause when Lyney finally stepped into the quiet of the apartment. His signature grin was still painted on his face, a remnant of the show’s exhilarating finish. The usual magic, the lights, and the crowd(which this night, had kept him much longer than he expected-) had left him buzzing with an infectious energy—but something felt wrong tonight.

The air in the apartment was different, still and tense, and as his eyes scanned the space, he noticed the small, intimate setting you had created. The dinner table was set for two, candles melted down to the base of the holder, flickering softly in the dim light, a full, unopened bottle of champagne resting in a bucket of water, (it used to be in ice, but it was out so long it had melted) by the glasses. A vase of bright rainbow roses on the table were dull and not bright anymore. The delicate aroma of a meal that had long since cooled lingered in the air.

"Sweetheart?" Lyney called out, his voice an easy lilt, though it lacked the usual warmth. He didn’t expect to hear a reply, but his heart tightened anyway when no answer came. "I’m home."

He carefully made his way through the apartment, noting the absence of your usual soft hums, the quiet that settled like a weight. The door to your shared bedroom was ajar, but the sight that greeted him as he gently reached out to open it morefroze him in place.

There you were, sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands clasped tightly together. Your eyes were downcast, but even in the dim light from the bathroom, he could see the faint redness at the corners of them. His stomach dropped, and his heart faltered.

A quiet silence filled the room, and he stood there, his pulse quickening with every second that passed. You don’t move a muscle, you don’t note his presence.

"I'm sorry," Lyney started, his usual charm faltering as his gaze softened in concern. "The show went longer than I thought—"

"You missed it," you said, your voice quiet but thick with hurt. "You missed our night."

He froze, the words hitting him like a sudden gust of cold wind. "I—I didn't mean to… I got caught up with the performance, and then the crowd—"

"You promised," you interrupted, finally lifting your head to meet his gaze. Your expression was a mixture of hurt and frustration, and the flicker of tears in your eyes made his chest ache. "You promised we’d spend tonight together, Lyney. Our anniversary. Our first anniversary. We aren’t going to get another first anniversary. And you… you were so focused on your show that you didn’t even think about me."

The words cut through him, sharper than any trick he had ever performed. His lips parted, but no words came out. He stepped closer, wanting to reach out, to say something, but he couldn’t find the right words to fix what had already been broken.

"I tried," you continued, your voice shaking slightly. "I really did. I made all the arrangements, I set everything up... I waited for you. Waited for hours. But you never showed. Or maybe you just didn’t care."

His heart sank even further, his breath catching in his throat as he took a hesitant step toward you. "I do care. You know I care. I just… I didn’t mean for it to go this way."

But you didn’t respond, the quiet between you two becoming unbearable. The room seemed to shrink, and in the deafening silence, Lyney felt as if the illusion of his perfect world had shattered.

He had spent years perfecting tricks to leave people in awe, crafting illusions that made the impossible feel like reality—but nothing in his bag of tricks could undo the damage he’d done. No sleight of hand, no spark of magic could take away the hurt in your eyes.

"I just wanted us to be together tonight," you whispered, more to yourself than to him. "But now it feels like I’m just another one of your illusions—something that fades away when the lights go out."

Lyney’s throat tightened, his usual confidence crumbling. He knew he had made a mistake. In chasing the applause, the attention, he had overlooked the one person who truly mattered.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, stepping closer, his voice low, filled with regret. "I’m so sorry. I was selfish, and I—"

"You don’t have to apologize. I don’t want to hear it anymore," you said, your tone cold now, the distance between you both growing. "You’ve already made your choice."

Lyney stood there, feeling as though the weight of the world had come crashing down on him all at once. He had lost track of time, yes, but he had also lost track of what mattered. No matter how much he tried to fix it, the damage was already done. The trust, the love, had slipped through his fingers like sand, and he couldn’t make it stay.

"I’ll give you space," you whispered, standing up from the bed. "I think it’s best if we... if we talk later." You gather one of the blankets and take a pillow from the bed.

He didn’t know what to say, and the words that had once come so easily to him now felt foreign, heavy in his mouth. As you walked past him, heading for the door, he wanted to reach out, to stop you, to make things right—but he didn’t.

And then you were gone, walking to the couch on the living room, leaving him alone in the dimly lit room, surrounded by the remnants of what could have been.

He collapsed onto the bed, staring at the untouched meal on the table, the candles flickering out one by one as the silence swallowed everything.

He had no magic trick left to fix this.

[idiashroudshusband]

With You - Neuvillette x Reader / Fluff

The light of the late afternoon sun filtered through the large, stained glass arched windows of Neuvillette’s office, casting long shadows across the room. The usually imposing space, with its large displays of law books and towering shelves, now felt unusually peaceful. The echoes and the distant murmur of the Melusines and the Fontaine peoples’ happenings and goings about around the streets were muted, leaving only the soft rustling of papers and the occasional creak of the furniture from the rooms outside of his office.

Neuvillette sat at his desk, a rare break in his busy day. He leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, his usually formal demeanor slipping into something softer. The weight of his responsibilities was ever-present, but for now, it seemed distant. You sat near him on the plush couch in the corner of the room, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the calming atmosphere.

"You've been working so hard lately," you remarked gently, your voice a soft hum in the quiet office.

Neuvillette opened his eyes slowly, a faint smile curling on his lips as he glanced toward you. "As have you. But I suppose even I need a moment to rest," he replied, his deep voice laced with warmth.

You shifted, moving a bit to the side of the couch, and you pat the cushion next to you. The tall man nods gently, standing up and comes to sit next to you on the couch. You smile and lean on him, your head coming to rest against his shoulder. His presence was always so commanding, yet in this private moment, he seemed human—vulnerable, content. His hand instinctively reached out, draping over your shoulders, pulling you in closer.

For a long while, the two of you sat there, wrapped in a comfortable silence. Neuvillette's fingers lightly traced along the fabric of your sleeve, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his breath—slow and calm, as though the world outside didn’t matter for a while.

"You get tired from working so much, don”t you?" you murmured, your voice almost a whisper.

He hummed, a soft sound of agreement. "Perhaps, but when I’m with you, I dont feel it."

His words, spoken with such quiet sincerity, made your heart flutter. For all the burdens Neuvillette carried, in this small, private world between the two of you, there was nothing but peace. The weight of the world could wait a little longer.

For now, there was only this—an unspoken promise of comfort in each other's presence.