ace had accepted his fate with far more dignity than he actually possessed. if you liked someone else, then... well... he guessed he'd help. that's what good friends did, right? so when he caught you smiling at deuce one afternoon, laughing at something he'd said before quickly looking away the moment ace noticed, his heart sank. of course it's deuce, he thought bitterly. he's nice. honest. doesn't trip over his own words every five seconds. it hurt more than he'd ever admit, but he swallowed it down with a grin anyway. "y'know," he casually mentioned to you later that day, trying very hard not to sound like his soul was actively crumbling, "deuce is actually a pretty good guy." you blinked. "...he is?" "yeah! total catch!" ace continued, internally screaming. "he's dependable! strong! uh... studies sometimes!" from across the room, deuce looked up from his homework with the most confused expression imaginable. "ace... are you okay?" "never better!" ace lied through gritted teeth. unfortunately for him, he committed to the bit. over the next week he became the world's worst wingman. he kept shoving deuce toward you with increasingly transparent excuses. "hey, deuce! didn't you wanna ask the prefect... something?" "...no?" "you do now!" at one point he outright abandoned the two of you together in the library, hiding behind a bookshelf like some sort of lovesick spy while silently mourning his own feelings. the only problem was... nothing ever happened. deuce looked confused. you looked even more confused. finally, after ace had dramatically insisted that deuce should walk you back to ramshackle because "it's... uh... gentlemanly," you caught ace by the sleeve before he could make another suspiciously timed escape. "ace..." you said carefully, "...why do you keep trying to get me alone with deuce?" ace laughed a little too loudly. "wh-what? me? pfft! i just figured, y'know... since you like him..." you stared at him for several painfully long seconds before your face turned bright red. "...deuce?" you repeated. "...ace." you let out the most exasperated little sigh. "i thought i was being obvious." ace's stomach dropped. "...obvious?" you nodded, suddenly looking just as embarrassed as he felt. "i wasn't looking at deuce." another pause. "...i kept looking at you." ace's brain completely shut down. behind them, deuce—who had unknowingly walked into earshot—slowly turned around and began walking away. "i'm leaving," he muttered. "i don't wanna be involved in whatever this is." ace didn't even hear him. he just stared at you with wide eyes, replaying every miserable pep talk he'd given himself, every compliment he'd forced about deuce, every painfully obvious attempt at matchmaking that had all been for absolutely nothing. "...you're kidding," he whispered. you laughed, gently flicking his forehead. "you spent a whole week trying to set me up with the wrong person." ace covered his face with both hands and groaned dramatically. "i am the biggest idiot at nrc!" ace wailed. you couldn't stop laughing, and before you knew it, you reached over and took his hand. ace immediately fell silent, peeking at them through his fingers. "...so..." you smiled. "...you gonna stop playing matchmaker now?" ace squeezed your hand with a sheepish grin, his ears still burning. "...yeah." a beat passed before he sighed dramatically. "...i'm never living this down, am i?" "nope." "fair." honestly, he deserved it. after all, only ace trappola could accidentally become the biggest obstacle standing between himself... and the person who had liked him the entire time.
