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synopsis: It was your birthday, and so it was only natural that Kalim threw you the biggest party of your life. Things get hectic and you end up leaving to get some fresh air. Leona is right behind you—to give you your gift of course!
a/n: wrote this a while ago on my birthday & thought i'd share!
It was your birthday, and so it was only natural that Kalim threw you the biggest party of your life.
Between the acapella performance of several exotic birds that cost thrice over a single kidney and the tables and tables of delicious food and dessert in every direction, you couldn’t possibly fathom how Kalim’s parties could get more extravagant until you were told by a disheveled Jamil that you hadn’t even seen the worst of it. He had cited the Asim family’s tiger’s birthday party last year, held at their estate, and shivered unconsciously as he mentioned it, as though the mere memory itself sent a sour taste running through his veins.
Jamil had wrangled the birds from their cages and was conducting them in an effortless fashion to perform a rendition of the classic Happy Birthday song with what feels like the entirety of Night Raven College singing along. You could pick out most of your classmates' voices if you focused.
Riddle and Vil were difficult to hear since they were precisely on key, unsurprisingly. Deuce and Ace seemed to be in silent competition over whose voice was better, each growing louder and louder with each verse. Epel, deciding it was safer not to be the tie-breaker, chose to focus on not slipping back into his country accent as he sang. They sang a different version of the song back home and he was trying his best to avoid mistakes, lest Vil take notice.
Grim’s lyrics were muffled as he was already helping himself to one of the cakes on the side (there were several, of course) with Trey half-singing to you and half-reprimanding Grim on eating before you had even cut the first slice of the main cake.
(Not to mention the song hadn’t even concluded.)
Ruggie was helping himself to fifths and had a jovial skip to his step between each of the buffet tables as he, too, sang to you. Jamil had spent at least twenty-four hours alone preparing the food and Ruggie was not about to let a single morsel go to waste.
Jack shoved a whole tissue box in Rook’s direction, his tail beating back and forth behind him. Rook had taken the box from him without taking his eyes off of you and belted the lyrics straight into the tissue he was using to blow his nose. Birthdays are rather special after all; you only turn every age once, and the next one always comes sooner than you think.
The flash of Cater and Ortho’s cameras were directed towards you. One for pictures and the other for a video to capture every moment the night had to offer.
Later, when you go to look back at the photos, they are utterly Idia-less and you begin to think he never showed up. Until you spot him cartoonishly tip-toeing in one of the photograph’s corners to place his gift for you on the designated table without anyone noticing. Mission failed; Cater and Ortho never miss a single thing.
You didn’t know students at Diasomnia all too well but Kalim had insisted they invite them anyway. Unlike Idia however, they did not attend. Though Jamil surmises something happened to the invitation along the way. Perhaps sending the invite via carrier pigeon wasn’t the best way after all…
You could pick out Floyd’s voice from miles away, which wasn’t even a difficult task since he was singing so incredibly loud and off-key that he was throwing one of the macaws off its rhythm. Jamil argued with him while simultaneously attempting to conduct the birds. An impossible task, but impressive he was attempting anyway.
Jade remained unfazed with a polite smile on his face, and you could see his glinting eye in the dark of the room. Beside him, Azul’s gaze would shift to the cake and then back to your face several times, as if the cake was his temptress and he was trying his best to remain pious.
Kalim clapped along, oblivious to the chaotic tune but arguably the happiest of the bunch.
It all felt terribly awkward, like it always does when you’re the center of attention and don’t quite know what to do. You’re not really sure if anyone in the world knows what to do when people sing you Happy Birthday. But you supposed mouthing every other verse with a huge smile plastered on your face was enough.
Just as the song concluded, you looked over to the corner where you knew Leona was, and he had but a single second to absorb the way the shadows framed your face and memorize your grin, bright enough to rival the candles, before you blew them out and plunged the room into night.
The room promptly erupted into whistles and cheers and claps and you feel full and happy and utterly grateful.
The lights turn on, you cut the cake, slices of dessert are passed around, and the festivities continue as students laugh and eat and dance and chatter.
Except, the festivities seem to have forgotten that they need to end too.
At a certain point, you’ve laughed until your lungs threatened to collapse, eaten your fill and plenty more, danced to the point of your legs giving out from under you, and chattered until your mouth ran dry and refused to rehydrate itself. And the party still showed no sign of stopping, much less slowing.
Scarabia’s stamina should be scientifically studied because maintaining these energy levels while keeping guests entertained is absolutely impossible. Any time someone would even whisper they are thinking about retiring for the evening, Kalim would announce some wonderful game and the party would start right back up again.
You were having fun, but at a certain point it all becomes too much. The lights are too blinding, the body heat is too stifling, and music and conversation become difficult to separate. Your feet begin to slow and betray you and your stomach cannot handle another crumb.
It was nearly two in the morning and the acapella birds were flying around the room in disorienting circles and there were multiple students screaming about droppings on their outfits. At some point, Kalim left and re-entered riding an elephant, which promptly took up half the room and left you fighting against the horde of students who rushed closer, wanting to ride the elephant themselves. You’re not even sure how the animal fit in the room.
Is it rude to leave your own party?
Surely no one would notice if you slip out.
“Bye guys, thank you so much for the party,” you say to no one in particular and much too quietly for anyone to hear.
The thrum of the speakers ebbs away as you leave Scarabia’s dorm room. You practically float down the hall, your mind driving out the music and focusing instead on your footfalls. It’s significantly cooler outside the dorm, the temperature dropping by several degrees on account of there being no sweaty student bodies attempting a mosh pit pressed up against you.
Also, no elephant.
“Hey! Where’re ya goin’?”
Although, there is a certain lion.
You whirl around and nearly splatter against Leona’s vest. He was much closer than you realized. In his hands is a rather large, rather long gift wrapped in orange and black polka dotted paper. The music is still audible from here and you could see the lights in the room flashing various colors from the open door.
Your voice is surprisingly steady when you reply. “I’m just, uh, getting some fresh air.” You gesture in the general direction of away from the party.
“Ah,” Leona says simply.
Leona never exactly asks to tag along, nor do you invite him, but the two of you end up walking in the same direction with the unspoken and mutual agreement of getting some fresh air binding the two of you together.
When the two of you are finally outside and the chilly night air erects goosebumps over your arm, you feel refreshed enough to properly break the silence. “I’m surprised you stayed at the party that long, Leona.”
“Me too.”
There’s a boatload of silence before you decide you should probably address the elephant in the room.
(Not the real elephant, which is in Scarabia's dorm, but the metaphorical elephant of the huge gift Leona is carrying around.)
“Who’s that for?” You point to the present curiously, eyeing it as if you could divulge the contents with your non-existent x-ray vision.
“Crowley, obviously.” A beat passes and Leona coughs. “That was a joke, clearly.”
“I think maybe you should work on your delivery.”
Leona rolls his eyes and shoves it in your hands. “Cool it, herbivore. I got ya somethin’ for your birthday. Who else’s would it be?”
The two of you sit down on a bench en route to Ramshackle to properly and unhurriedly unwrap your gift. With much difficulty, you turn the box in hand and give it a little shake. It’s heavy, but the weight is unevenly distributed.
“Who wrapped this?” You ask, because whoever did so definitely mastered the impossible art of neat gift-wrapping. Also, because the longer you waited to open the gift, the harder Leona’s tail thrashed in anticipation. And you thought that was extremely amusing and very endearing.
“Me.”
You give Leona a look.
“Okay, okay! Sheesh, you got me. Ruggie and Jack also helped.”
You try to suppress a smile but fail miserably, and give into a laugh that mutates into snorts that have you gripping your aching sides. “H-how many N-night Raven College students…” you manage between huffs, “does it take to wrap a gift?!”
Leona stands up and the gift is promptly ripped from your hand. He holds it high above his head and definitively out of your reach. Your laugh stops immediately and you stand up.
“Keep talkin’ like that and I’ll just take the gift back,” he taunts, a mischievous smile playing on the corner of his lips as he looks down on you.
“Hey! Wait stop, I didn’t mean it!!”
The most surprising thing isn’t that it took three Night Raven College students to wrap a gift, but that Leona Kingscholar had asked for help to wrap your gift.
Leona doesn’t lower the gift by a fraction and instead holds your gaze steady, smirk becoming more evident by a minute.
You sigh and take a deep breath.
“Pretty please Housewarden Leona sir, I would like the gift back on account that it is mine and not Crowley’s and also I am very truly sincerely sorry for what I said. Your wrapping skills are exquisite and I wish to become your humble student and learn your ways if you would accept me.”
“Ugh, total overkill. Okay, whatever,” Leona scoffs. “Here ya go.”
He practically drops the gift on your head before taking a seat back on the bench. His ears twitch as he watches you unwrap the gift. Unlike the many underclassmen he’s seen on Christmas and other such holidays, you don’t immediately start ravaging the paper apart to get to the good stuff.
Instead, he looks on as you try your best not to tear the wrapping apart, taking your time to ensure you’re unwrapping the gift in the order he taped it in. You start on the side, your finger wedging itself beneath the tape and slowly but surely peeling it off before repeating the motion on the other side of the box, and so on and so forth.
Leona is not familiar with this particular method of unwrapping gifts. He’s seen Cheka tear through the paper with teeth alone, plundering past to reveal its treasures. It’s not a very time-efficient strategy, but nevertheless Leona found himself feeling a sort of fondness for the way you handle even the silliest things with such care.
It makes him wonder if you would treat him the same.
Tug too hard on even the sturdiest and thickest of paper and it, too, will tear. But you peel back layer by layer without aggression or hurry. You make gentleness look effortless, patience instinctive, as if you had all the time in the world to sit beside Leona under an increasingly starry sky.
“C’mon, I don’t have all night,” Leona grumbles, his tone lacking any real bite. “Why bother with something you’re just gonna toss in the end anyway?”
“I dunno,” you shrug. “Because you took the time to wrap it?”
It was well past two in the morning now, the birthday party a distant memory blurred by the kind of peace only night can bring. A light breeze blows past the two of you and it ripples through the wrapping paper, held firmly in Leona’s hands so it doesn’t fly away.
You stare at the shiny broomstick in awe. It’s made of dark wood and is slicker than sleek. The broom bristles are shiny and uniform, not a twig out of place. On the handle is your name engraved in cursive lettering, beside it, a star.
“It’s a new model,” Leona explains. “I imbued it with my magic so that you, magicless as you are, could ride it too. You're gonna have to come back so I can cast the spell again but it probably beats having to walk back to Ramshackle all the time.”
He’s over-explained, Leona thinks to himself. He can’t help it; he’s just not sure if you like it or not. Your reaction is puzzling: your mouth is clamped shut and your eyes are unblinking.
Maybe you didn’t like it? Or someone had already somehow given you the exact same thing?
Oh no.
Maybe you were afraid of heights!
Leona’s mind had jumped through several hoops, but the truth was it wasn’t any of those things. You were simply trying your best to gather your words without bursting into tears. Even Leona has his limits.
It was probably the most thoughtful gift anyone had ever given you.
Don’t cry, don't cry, don't cry, DON’T cry.
“Listen, if you don’t like it I can—”
“No,” you interrupt, placing your hand on his arm. “I love it. It’s perfect.”
Leona’s glad his heart is firmly welded into his chest, because otherwise it probably would have skipped right over to you. He can feel it thrum in his ears, echoing your very words throughout every vein.
I love it. It’s perfect.
“It looks big enough to fit two people. Can you take me for a ride on it?”
Leona’s heart seemed to stop beating entirely.
Can he take you for a what on what.
It’s true that the broom fits two people, but Leona didn’t consider himself into the equation when he commissioned it to be made. He had a cat in mind but it wasn’t him; it was Grim.
You hold the broom out to him with such sincerity, eyes full and twinkling like the stars above, sure he would never deny you. Not when the weather is so nice and clear. And certainly not on your birthday.
How right you are.
After crumbling the wrapping paper to dust and ensuring his heart had re-started, Leona tentatively takes the broom from your hand and swings his leg over the handle, just below your engraved name. You stand behind him and do the same without hesitation. Watching Vargas teach Flight class meant you spent a good chunk of your time observing and subconsciously internalizing what to do and what not to do, as well as the techniques and habits of various students.
For example, you knew that Leona likes to take off very quickly. Which is why you make sure to wrap your hands around his torso and hold on tightly.
Because you don’t want to fall off obviously.
By now Leona’s heart had gotten used to stopping and restarting, but his body had still stiffened just the slightest bit under your touch nevertheless. Leona kicks off the ground without waiting a further moment and the two of you take to the sky in a blur. You hold on even more tightly, if that was even possible, and fight back the scream lodged in your throat.
Half-sure your soul had taken flight and left your body back on the ground, you dare to glance down. Only, your body isn’t there. The familiar roads back to Ramshackle are grains of pepper to season the wide expanse of wilderness before you. The castle, framed by the night sky and wispy clouds, is even more magnificent from up here, and hauntingly beautiful. If you reached out right now, perhaps you would be able to touch the roof tiles?
Your hands stay firmly lodged in their place, wound around Leona and resting on his abdomen. They would not obey you even if you commanded them, in fear that letting go would also mean falling down. This was your first time on a broomstick after all. It would take some practice before you would be able to do this on your own.
Still, flying by yourself sounds a bit lonely. You also think it would also be significantly less warm. Your cheeks, stinging from the cold rush of wind, had found warmth in Leona’s back, so you leave your face buried there even as Leona begins to slow for the descent.
Ramshackle grows larger in your vision. You can see the warped iron fence, the splintered wood, and the crumbling chimney of the house you call home. It does look better on the inside, you remind yourself.
You wish you could say the landing went smoothly but it definitely didn’t and it was entirely your fault.
You feel brave enough, or maybe stupid enough, to extend your feet, thinking the ground to still be further away. Unfortunately, your feet skid the two of you to a forceful stop, and the broomstick violently jerks the two of you off its handle before landing soundlessly on the floor.
You scream as you land on something squishy and Leona lets out a pained oof sound.
“S-sorry Leona! That was my fault.”
“Geroff me!” Leona calls from below you. Maybe a few months ago he would have shoved you off without a care, but now he waits for you to prop yourself up on your hands and stand up before he does the same.
Picking the blades of grass off you, you let out a groan when you see they’ve left a stain of green in their wake. “Aw man! This was my special birthday outfit!”
“You always have next year.”
You smack him playfully and throw the grass you collected on his shirt. “You’re horrible.”
“I know, but you love it.”
“Yeah, I do.”
A silence overtakes the two of you, and the metaphorical elephant in the room has never been larger.
It’s strange, this silence. In its stillness it seems to amplify other senses. The scent of Leona’s cologne is still present in the air, even after a very thrilling broom ride. Leona can smell a hint of frosting on your own breath, and hear the pumping of your heart alongside his.
Would they get louder if he stepped closer?
They do, and the heartbeats quicken in sync. The smell of cologne and frosting is stronger now, mingling in the small space between his lips and yours.
You can’t think—you won’t. If not now, then it won’t be ever. Your heels lift and you press a kiss to Leona’s lips, lingering just long enough for you to feel him kissing back. His hand winds around your neck and his fingers intertwine themselves in your hair to push you closer, deeper.
It’s three in the morning, maybe almost four. You left your birthday party early and spent ten minutes unwrapping a single gift. You soared through the sky and tumbled down onto the ground and you kissed Leona Kingscholar with grass stains in your shirt and frosting on your tongue.
You’re a year older now; maybe not quite wiser. But you made it through yet another year, and that is a feat worth celebrating.
Leona Kingscholar knows when to give up, and he's given up on you.
He watches you talking to your friends across the courtyard. The redhead says something and you laugh, the sound carrying over. Leona scowls.
Ruggie notices and tugs at his arm.
“Leona, come on, you’re gonna make us both late. We’re making potions out of food in my next class, and I bet I can convince Professor Crewel to give me the leftovers.”
He grins, showing his teeth, and Leona lets himself be pulled down the hallway. He glances your way once more, and is startled to find you looking back at him. Your eyes widen and you turn away, ducking your head, but Leona can't take his eyes off of you, and he almost stumbles over a crack in the ground. Ruggie stops and stares at him.
“Leona…? Did you… just trip?”
Leona glares at him, trying to ignore the feeling in his chest.
“I wouldn’t be tripping over anything if that Headmage maintained the grounds like he’s supposed to,” he growls. “What’s he even using our families’ donations for?”
Leona stalks ahead of Ruggie, sneaking another look in your direction once he’s caught up. You’re gone from view. He pretends it doesn’t disappoint him.
~~~~~
Leona catches himself thinking about you, later that day.
He’s in a new spot under a tree in the greenhouse bushes, somewhere Ruggie might not think to check when he realizes Leona’s trying to skip class. The sound of your laugh is rolling around in his head, distracting him from his nap.
It’s not like you were even laughing at him. It was Ace, as always. So why can’t he get it out of his head?
He turns over in the grass, only to find himself face to face with you - wide-eyed, hair full of leaves, crawling through the foliage on your hands and feet.
“Oh,” you say, “hi. Um. Have you seen Grim?”
Leona stares at a particularly leafy patch of your hair.
“You’re crawling around in here for that stupid cat?”
You frown at him. He’s distracted by the flush in your cheeks.
“He’s not stupid. And besides, I’m his prefect. I’m responsible for him, so if something happens, Crowley’s going to get on my case about it. And goodness knows something’s going to happen if I’m not with him,” you say.
You pull your legs up and sit next to him, resting your face in your hands with a huff. “Why can’t he just behave?”
Leona watches you breathe, watches the flush of exertion fade from your face. You lean your head back against the tree and smile towards him.
“It really is nice in here,” you say. “I can see why you like it.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Oh, is someone tempted to stay here and skip class with me? I thought you were a better student than that.”
He means it as a joke, a reminder that it’s still the middle of the school day. He doesn’t dare to think you’ll actually skip class with him. After all, you have class with Ace.
Instead of hurrying away to make it to your next class before it starts, though, or scolding him for skipping, you bury your face in your hands.
“My next class is Practical Magic,” you manage. You almost sound like you’re crying. “I can’t do anything in it without Grim. I’m only half a student, anyway.”
Leona doesn’t like it when people cry around him, or put themselves down. Especially not you.
He props himself up on one elbow and reaches towards you. He wants to touch your face and tell you what he thinks of you. That as much as he tries to deny it, his heart skips a beat when you smile at him, and he’s never dared to think of someone as much as he thinks of you. That you’re a whole student, a whole person, with or without Grim.
But he can’t say any of that, so he just brushes a few leaves out of your hair. You look up, eyes vaguely rimmed with red.
“Thanks,” you say, “I have no idea how so many leaves ended up in my hair. It’s ridiculous, right?”
Leona smirks. “The trick is to not crawl around under a buncha trees.”
“Well, some of us have responsibilities we need to fulfill. And I don’t have a Ruggie to push stuff onto,” you say. You move as if to stand up, but Leona gets there first, holding a hand out to help you up. You blink at him.
“What -”
“I’ll help you look,” he interrupts. “I know a thing or two about wrangling dorm-mates.”
Your face softens, and you reach up and take his hand. Even through his gloves, he can feel your warmth. He shivers.
“That’d be great,” you say, hopping to your feet, “but I really don’t know where else he could be.”
“You asked those friends of yours yet?” Leona asks. “That Ace, and, uh… the other one.”
“Deuce?” you fill in. “No, I figured if I didn’t know where Grim was, they wouldn’t either.”
“Well, you’re all practically joined at the hip. He probably can’t tell you all apart. Come on, let’s go ask them,” Leona says, walking away without checking if you’re following. Before long, he can hear your footsteps on the path behind him.
“We’re not,” you insist, once you’ve fallen into step next to him.
He raises an eyebrow. “Not what?”
“Not joined at the hip. Me and Ace and Deuce, we’re not joined at the hip.”
Leona eyes you as he pushes open the door of the greenhouse. “You’re being pretty defensive about this, herbivore,” he teases.
You blush as you follow him outside, the sunlight painting your face an intoxicating color. He forces himself to stop looking.
“I just… don’t want you to think that’s all there is to me. That I don’t have a life outside of them. Does that make sense? I feel like that doesn’t make sense,” you say. You’re not looking at him either. Leona pretends it’s because you care what he thinks of you.
He’s just about to ask where you think your friends could be, when he hears a voice that grates on his nerves in an all-too-familiar way. Ace.
Leona fixes his face into a neutral expression before looking around for the boy - and the other, who’s surely with him. He finds them walking down the pathway towards you both.
You follow his gaze, and your face lights up at the sight of your friends, spawning an uncomfortable pit in Leona’s stomach. You grab his wrist and tug him towards them.
“C’mon, let’s go see if they’ve seen Grim!”
He follows you (what else is he supposed to do?), trying to fight the scowl creeping onto his face. He know he doesn’t have a chance with you, but that doesn’t mean he wants to be reminded. You grin at Deuce and a little bit more at Ace, more than Leona’s ever seen you smile in his own direction.
“Hey, guys!” you call. “What’s up?”
Ace’s eyes flick to Leona standing behind you for a moment before he says, “Nah, nothing. Just heading to class. What’s up with you, Prefect?”
You sigh, shifting your body a little closer to Ace. You’re still holding Leona’s wrist, but he’s sure you’ve just forgotten to let it go. You’re not holding it because you want to.
“It’s Grim,” you say, exasperated. “He snuck away from me after our last class and I can’t find him. He’s definitely off somewhere getting up to no good. So I wanted to ask if you guys have seen him?”
Deuce nods, eyes sparkling as he leans forward. Ace leans in too, forming the three of you into a comfortable triangle. Leona doesn’t think you’re doing it on purpose, but that makes his exclusion from the conversation almost feel worse.
“Yeah, we just saw him, actually. Just over there. He was trying to catch a butterfly in the courtyard, and Ace said -”
Ace elbows Deuce hard in the ribs before he can finish. “I said,” he continues, “that it was weird you weren’t with him, Prefect. If we’d known, I could’ve caught him for ya.”
You wave a hand. “Oh, no, it’s fine. Just knowing you saw him is a huge help.”
Ace shrugs, the tips of his ears dusting pink. “Anything for you, Prefect! Here, I’ll take you there. Besides, Leona-senpai probably has a class to get to anyway, right? You shouldn’t keep bothering him.”
Leona expects you to let go of his wrist now. Maybe take Ace’s hand instead, or link arms with him and Deuce and skip off towards the courtyard, leaving him to return to his nap. Instead your grip on him tightens.
“No,” you say. “Leona said he’d help me find Grim, so he’s going to help me find Grim. You guys can go ahead to class. We’ll go check the courtyard.”
Ace and Deuce blink at you, faces as surprised as Leona feels.
“O-okay,” Deuce says, “sure. Finish fast so you can make it to class on time, okay?”
You nod, hand still tight around Leona’s wrist as you pull him past your friends and towards the courtyard. He’s sure you can feel his heartbeat thrumming through his veins.
Leona tugs you to a halt around halfway to your destination. He shouldn’t even bother asking you this - he’s sure there’s a boring answer, nothing like what he’s imagining. But the question is burning a hole in his mind, and if he doesn’t ask you now, it’ll haunt him the rest of his days.
“Oi, herbivore. Why didn’t you want to go with your friends?” he asks.
You stare up at Leona, fingers shifting against his wrist.
“Well, I just - you said you’d help me find Grim.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you were so sad and alone. But when your friends are offering, you have no reason to accept my help over theirs, right?”
Except for that reason. The one he’d like to pretend doesn’t exist, the one he isn’t even bothering to hope is true. But he needs to ask.
You only hold his gaze for a few more moments before your eyes drop to the floor.
“I mean, it’s not like I had a real reason. Just more of a… feeling.”
“A feeling?” His feelings are all traveling through his bloodstream, perilously close to you. Your hand is warm against his wrist.
“Since I don’t normally get to talk to you, I kind of just wanted to spend some more time with you,” you say. You sneak a glance up at Leona.
He hopes his expression is unreadable. He’s not sure it is.
“Oh,” he says. “Spend time with me? Over time with Ace?”
You nod. “Yeah, I just… yeah. Between you and me, I think Ace kind of has a crush on me. And then Deuce is just super oblivious to it, and Grim is so loud, and sometimes I just need a break.”
You sneak another glance at him, pulling him along as you start walking again.
“And I like your company,” you finish. “It’s easy.”
Leona can’t help it. He laughs, somewhere deep in his throat, and speeds up so you're walking side-by-side, deciding not to notice the way your hand tightens a little on his wrist.
“I always got the impression you had a crush on Ace,” he tells you.
You blink and laugh a little. “Me? No, I - I mean, there’s nothing wrong with Ace, he’s very nice, it’s just that I - well, I like someone else.”
It hovers in the air between you for a moment, like a secret shared between friends in the dead of night. Like a hummingbird drinking from a flower.
Leona doesn’t ask who it is. He doesn’t feel the need to. Your fingers are tight on his wrist and if you don’t like Ace, that means he still has a chance. All he needs is a fighting chance.
You don’t let go of him when you reach the courtyard, when you see Grim holding a butterfly in-between his paws, seemingly at a loss for what to do with it, or when you pick him up with one arm and say, “Well, we should probably head to our next class.”
His heartbeat is dancing underneath your palm. Your fingers are warm against his wrist. He doesn’t want you to let go.
You stand together for another moment, Grim squirming in your arms, the wind rustling through the trees. Leona can hear his heart pounding in his ears. Finally you exhale and unwrap your hand from his wrist.
“I guess this is it. Until next time,” you say.
Leona leans towards you, wrist feeling cold.
“That a promise, herbivore? You know where to find me next time you need a break from those friends of yours.”
“Okay,” you say, face breaking into a grin, “yeah, sure. Um. That’d be nice. Thanks, Leona. For helping me find Grim and everything.”
“Yeah,” he says, “anytime.”
The image of you smiling at him burns itself into his brain. He’s still seeing it after you’re gone from view, after the bell rings for the next class. He pictures you at your Practical Magic class, sitting next to Ace and next to Deuce, smiling at them. The image doesn’t bother him. Because next time you get tired of them, you’re going to come find him.
Just remembered that Leona is basically a huge cat boy...
If you've ever owned a cat, you'll know that a big part of their love language involves grooming their loved ones. So yeah, Leona is going to wordlessly lick you when he thinks you're stinky and braid your hair when you ask him to. He takes excellent care of his own hair, so he has some hair oils and shampoos that he could lend to you, but he'll still insist on doing your hair for you.
Leona also expects you to groom him in return, otherwise he would feel offended. He spent all that time fixing your hair, and you won't even brush his in return? Very much like a demanding cat. How ungrateful.
Also another part of cat love language: sleeping together. He gets really cozy and comfortable when you're in his arms after a really long day. He might grumble about it at first, but his tail will curl around your waist and pull you close when you move away. Where are you going? Stay put, herbivore. He didn't say you could leave.
Leona likes laying his head on your chest, because hearing the soothing rhythm of your heartbeat lulls him to sleep pretty quickly. He's rather heavy, so good luck getting him off of you once he's snoring away.
Leona especially likes being nuzzled and scratched around his neck. It just feels nice. You smell nice. You might even catch him purring when he's unguarded, that low humming sound of contentment reverberating throughout the room. He'll stop once he wakes up and scowl at you for pointing it out, though. Stop asking so many questions, herbivore.
Leona had groaned and ranted against you sleeping in his bed all night. "There's no room," he claimed while sprawled out on a mattress wide enough to fit an entire Spelldrive team. If you laid down to claim the bed's edge, he'd kick you to the carpet or nudge you over the side and quickly pretend to be asleep. The hours he spent coming up with excuses and dirty tricks would have been better spent actually sleeping.
Many times he'd yawn and repeat, "what kind of herbivore willingly crawls into the den of a beast?" while keeping you at arm's length. Every time you thought he was out cold and snuck back over, he'd swat you away. It was a raging battle of endurance.
Yet when morning came, Leona sang a completely different tune. Perhaps it was the exhaustion of staying up late. Perhaps he was just done fighting his feelings. At some point he really did fall asleep, allowing you to take over one pillow and the fringed corner of a blanket. They were temporary luxuries.
You awoke with the heavy prince on top of you, each slow breath warm against your ear as he nuzzled his chin against your shoulder. His arm curled around your head. Strands of long, dark brown hair stuck to your lips. Sunlight poured through the windows, bringing the dry heat of the day with it. You could have cooled off by moving a leg if the prince hadn't hooked his own knee over your thighs.
"Leona...?" You whispered the name. The pressure of his chest pushing down on yours made inhaling an inconvenience. Your hope that he would wake up was successfully answered by a twitch of his ear against your cheek.
"Leona, I can't breathe." Though still half asleep and uncoordinated, you felt uncomfortable. The sensation of pins and needles danced in your hands, along the bottom of your feet, and you wanted to roll over. Leona's tail tuft began to swish lazily, trailing over the hem of your shirt. Bit by bit, it helped you wake. "I want to get up."
You strained to move out from under the mass of muscles, grabbing the mattress's edge to pull yourself up. Leona huffed and buried his face further against your skin. There was an odd sensation at the base of your neck. A little damp, a little sharp, and very warm. Leona gently nipped at your throat until you stopped trying to escape.
"Did you just bite me?" Though tired, you were now fully awake and could take in more of the situation. Leona responded with a sleepy grunt. You retaliated with a couple strikes to his side, weakly aiming for the only spots within reach. "You're hot! Let me up!"
It was the wrong course of action. Leona stirred, only to move his arm across your chest and lock both legs around yours. Fingertips grasped at the fabric of your attire. "Be quiet," he grumbled, turning his face towards yours. He knew you'd talk less if your chin had to fight the weight of his head.
You were more stuck than before. "I can't move."
"Should have listened when I warned you." You were nothing more than captured prey in the lion's embrace.
Leona's chest returned to a rhythmic rise and fall as the morning birdsong lulled him back to sleep. You were going to have to put up with his body heat for a few more hours.
Anyone who knew Leona knew that he was quick to anger but slow to act on it. But hardly anyone knew of his gentle side, the part of him that liked to take life easy.
a/n: hehehe the first of 10 fics!! it's gonna be all random because leona decided it would be >:( i was super excited to get this out weeheehee :))
w.c: 301 words
leona kingscholar 2023 birthday event masterlist
anyone who knew leona knew that he was quick to anger but slow to act on it. that his anger simmered, boiling under the surface of his skin, when his eyes hardened and his voice turned bitter and his eyebrows furrowed. anyone who knew leona also knew how to avoid his anger, which buttons never to push, placating him with ease while also simultaneously teasing- a comrade, a friend.
but hardly anyone knew of his gentle side, the part of him that liked to take life slow and easy, that liked to hold your hand and nuzzle your neck and pepper your face with kisses (romantic or not) under the larger leaves of the botanical garden, effectively hidden from view from most of savanaclaw’s students and nrc’s professors.
“stay here, where’re you runnin’ off to again?” leona groans behind you as he stirs, the sunlight overhead framing his glorious mane like a crown for a king. “hmm?” he insists, tugging you close to his chest and throwing an arm over you, instinctually intertwining his legs with yours. “you’re not plannin’ on running behind that crow again, are ya? i’ll eat you whole.”
“hardy har har, very scary, leona,” you respond as you roll your eyes, curling up into him and cuddling him, occasionally pressing kisses to the nearest patch of skin you could find. “i have homework, unlike this extremely intelligent and sleepy fourth-year-student-to-be.”
“sleep with me for a while longer and i’ll help you with it.” leona immediately responds above you, baritone voice rumbling deep within his chest.
“i feel like that’s somehow an violation of academic integrity.”
“look at the mouse using big words. ‘s cute,” leona hums as he smushes your face into his chest. “now sleep.”
