He finds you tucked beneath the broad shade of a tree, dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves and painting soft patterns across the ground. For a moment, he simply watches. Then, with a quiet huff, he walks over, he removes his hat and sets it aside, his sharp gaze flicking over your casual attireāfar too relaxed for someone who claimed this meeting was ānothing special.ā
A small present, cradled carefully in your hands.
He scoffs under his breath, unimpressed, almost offended by the sight. Of course you would do something like this. As you turn around, your face brightening the instant you notice him, you call out in greetingāsomething lighthearted, unmistakably you.
His eyes, however, narrow immediately, locking onto the gift. The wrapping shifts just enough for him to catch a glimpse of a single letter peeking through the folds.
His mouth opens before he can stop himself.
āYou too, seriously?ā
The words slip out sharper than he intends. Was something so trivialāso insignificantāas his birth date really worth this much effort? Worth your time, your planning, your sincerity? He doesnāt understand it, and that unfamiliar feeling makes him bristle.
But you donāt hesitate. Not even for a second. You grip the gift tighter. Your expression earnest, steady, unshaken by his tone.
āYeah, this gift is for you, you're the best thing that's happened to me, afterall.ā
The sincerity in your voice hits him harder than any insult ever could. His eyes widen before he can hide it, breath catching in his throat. Him? The best thing thatās happened to you? Of all peopleāhim?
āMeā¦?ā He trails off, almost inaudible, the word tumbling out more like a question meant for himself than for you.
You donāt waver. You simply smile and say it, clear and certain, like itās the most obvious truth in the world.
āYes, happy birthday, Wanderer.ā
Ts was really lazy I'm sorry gnag.......... I get school in like a day ššššš
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