What Use Is An Assistant?
Aventurine X Gn! Assistant Reader (Romantic)
Words: 1.8k
Warnings: N/A
A/N: This is more so focused more on him and his feelings than any actual romantic acts.
I had an ending in mind as I was writing this, but I could not write it down for the life of me, so I just scrapped it.
"He needed an assistant," they said. He couldn’t continue gambling so recklessly, they said. He was sufficient, but not in an ideal way.
But he’d like to disagree; he's not dead yet, which is a positive, and his gambles work out just fine. Sure, he gets an injury here and there from how primitive his opponents turn out when they lose, but he’s fine. He doesn’t need—
“And this is [Reader], your new assistant,” Jade introduces you to him. “Treat them well, will you? We wouldn’t want you to lose them, would we?”
He lets out a hum of mock contemplation as he looks at you, his new ‘assistant.’
“An assistant is unnecessary, don’t you think so, Madam Jade?”
Jade lets out a laugh as if what he said was a joke. She pats your back and gently nudges you to head towards him. “That would be true… But Diamond would say otherwise.”
When you finally move to stand in front of him, he waits patiently for you to greet him. If he can’t avoid this, might as well enjoy the time, right? Knowing how his past assistants have been, he wonders how long it’ll take for you to give up on him and get fired.
“U-uh…” You nervously look back at Jade like you’re hoping for her grace to save you, but all she does is nod at you so you can continue.
“I-it’s… a pleasure to meet you, Director Aventurine.” You take the time to give him a small bow. “I look forward to assisting you.”
Oh wow, that’s quite new for him. People have never bowed down to him. It’s always a hand on his body. Well… At least this isn’t uncomfortable, that’s a plus.
He motions for you to stand straight again, and you quickly do. “Then let’s hope you don’t mess up, right? I would hate for you to disappoint me.” He feigns a pout at his last sentence, acting like it’ll be a crime to do that.
In response, you quickly nod your head to reassure him that you don’t mess up. “There’s no need to worry about that, Director Aventurine. I’ll do my very best to be of use to you.”
“Let’s see about that…”
.・゜゜・・゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟﾟ･｡
So far, you’ve been doing a far better job than most: you’ve been there at his meetings, you’ve been at his every beck and call, and you’ve been an excellent assistant. A few mistakes have been made here and there, but it’s never been without an immediate apology from you.
He wouldn’t admit this, but he’s starting to like this arrangement: to have someone do whatever he asks… He likes that. No matter how difficult his tasks are or even how ridiculous they are, you still do them.
But this wouldn’t be him if he went without at least trying to get you to break your eagerness and quietness.
He’s a little cruel when it comes to it; that much he can admit, but he doesn’t particularly care enough to change how he does things. And even if you had a problem, you couldn’t really complain, could you? Compared to him, you were a nobody—a word against him would get you in trouble.
He can be as difficult as he wants, and all you can do is bear it.
.˚₊‧༉︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.
“Hmm…”
He looks at the multiple stacks of papers you put on his desk with a contemplative expression.
The organization is perfect. Everything is topic coordinated; there are no creases on any of the papers, it looks visually perfect, and there’s no misplacement.
If it were given to anyone else, you’d be praised, and the stacks would be taken. But he’s not ‘anyone else.’
“It lacks organization, try again.”
“… Pardon?”
Your expression changes to one of surprise when you hear his words. You shake your head a few times to check if your ears are working properly.
“It lacks organization. I’m not satisfied.”
Again, he says his sentence.
Don’t get him wrong—there’s nothing wrong here. But he’s not just going to say that; he’s going to make sure you end up tired with him, and then he’ll give you a new task immediately afterward.
For what, you may ask? You already know why.
“I… I’ll check to see if there are any problems, sir. My apologies for the inconvenience.”
Quietly, you take one stack of paper and move it to a table in the corner of his office.
Thankfully for you, he allowed you to have a corner to yourself so you don’t have to run around for every task he gives you. The constant noise of opening the door and closing it was slowly getting annoying, at least to him. So he just straight-up gave it to you.
“Thank you, my dear assistant~”
And just like that, he goes back to his work.
.・゜゜・・゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟﾟ･｡
Midnights in Pier Point have always been a dream to look at; Aventurine has always taken the time to admire the skyline when he was stuck in his office.
There were far too few lights that were emitted during this time of the night, so the stars and the sky were visible to the naked eye.
It was majestic, the kind that would take the air from your lungs just so you could focus on the present moment. And it has always worked. No matter how much you’re used to the sensation, the feeling, it always works.
Aventurine isn’t the only one to say this; he’s had his fellow Stonehearts admiring the skyline with him. He could be in a disagreement with any of them, and one look at the skyline would silence all available parties.
How could people like them, the very people who are so evil, admire the colors that stroke the sky? Even he wasn’t sure.
But one thing he was sure of…
He was exhausted at the moment. So, so exhausted.
His wrist hurt from writing so much; his voice hurt from the endless talking he had to do with clients and ‘partners’; his body hurt from the constant movement and endless travel he had to endure.
All he wants to do is close his eyes and sleep as much as possible, but considering that he’s at his office and not home… He can’t really do that. So all he can do is close his eyes and hope that it’ll automatically fix his problem, but that’s impossible.
Though it doesn’t hurt to hope for the impossible, does it?
*Clink*
A glass of… something is placed on his table.
‘What is it…’ He wonders to himself. He opens his eyes and glances at the object of his confusion.
Ah, it’s a glass of water.
He moves his gaze to look at the person who got the glass, and it turns out to be you. At that, he raises an eyebrow in confusion.
"Why did you bring this now?" he asks quietly, watching for your answer.
You look around the office like you’re expecting someone else to interrupt, but no one’s here. "Well, I noticed that you were tired.”
“I think that’s obvious, friend.”
“I know that, Director." You scrunch your eyebrows together at his teasing. It’s obvious that you didn’t appreciate the comment, “But just… Never mind, please drink some water to rejuvenate yourself.”
Rather than argue, he takes the glass, eyes lingering on the glass for a moment as if he’s waiting for a joke to come from you. But nothing does. So hesitantly, like he’s expecting the drink to have poison in it, he drinks up.
Weird, no one’s done something as simple as handing him a glass of water…
‘Hah, let’s see what else you’ll surprise me with.’
.・゜゜・・゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟﾟ･｡
Ever since that day, you’ve been doing more and more acts for him. Nice acts, to be specific, and it rattles him. But he’s not used to showing anyone that he can be surprised, which includes you.
Which means all your acts of kindness are accompanied by teasing comments. On some of his… worst days, it’s accompanied by nothing. No words, no comments, just silence. And thankfully, you understand the silence, so you leave him to be.
But one thing is unfortunate for him: his mind has begun to think about you. About your acts.
No, not in a romantic sense. He’d dread that if it ever happened. But in a way that is difficult to explain even to himself, something is itching at his chest every time you walk past.
Perhaps he’s sick; that’s a possibility. But he rarely gets sick thanks to his luck.
Ah-hah! Got it!
Has he contracted a rare disease? An unknown disease?
He’s checked that, and…
No. "You’re perfectly fine," said his doctor.
Uhh, what is this feeling supposed to be?
Anger?
No… He’s long since forgotten how to feel anger.
Hate?
That’s not possible. He hates the IPC; he hates Schneider, yet what he feels when with you isn’t similar to his hatred towards the corporation.
Eh, it can’t be that important if he doesn’t know about it. He’ll try his best to forget about it, but he has his doubts when it comes to that.
.˚₊‧༉︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.
He didn’t know why he did such a thing, but he bought you a bunch of gifts: jewelry, clothes, utensils for your house, etc.
He is Aventurine; after all, he wouldn’t be him if he weren’t over the top with what he does and gets.
He was, at first, expecting it to be easy. Just give the multitude of gifts to yourself and call on a day. But that was way too far off.
As he looks down at the multitude of things he has gotten for you, he can’t help but feel nervous for some reason.
Is it too much? Is it too little? Will you like them? Will you not like them? Do you even need them?
What if you got confused and asked him why you got all this? What excuse would be good enough for you?
He buys everyone expensive things; he doesn’t doubt that you won’t get greedy about it like everyone else. But… At the same time, it’s also just meaningless. Would you even appreciate it, knowing that other people have gotten the same things that he’s gotten you?
No…
He wants you to appreciate it. He wants to let you know that he appreciates what you do for him. The gifts are meaningful, they’re there to show his gratitude for you.
This is too hard—he’s getting way too nervous for such a simple and regular thing for him.
So instead…
He picks up his phone and calls the people he’s gotten every gift from.
He’s going to give back everything he has gotten.
You’re not greedy. You’re not like everyone else. You don’t need this much of anything.
A simple gift is enough. One gift will be enough.
…
Right?
