Angst. Artemisia First Person POV, Canon-Divergence before First Contact (Tagging for spoilers just in case)
My other Artephelia Fics: 1, 2, 3, 4 <here>
I think I'm in love with Ophelia.
I realize this as she lies fast asleep on perhaps the last bed we'll share. Her long red hair rises and falls with her every breath, cascading through her pale skin. The blankets cover her, as if the world shouldn't be seeing the bare skin of a goddess. I tuck a strand of her wavy hair behind her ear so I can better see her face, her lips.
She's beautiful. So very beautiful, capable and charming. Gods help me. I'd wanted to kiss her since I first saw her.
The journey through Cordis, Desmontis and Spadia had been incredibly taxing on my body, but she's there. Ophelia had always been there for me. Even in the moments where Langley had already woken up. She had no reason to spend time with me by the fire but she's always there.
Soon, she wouldn't be.
Today is the day we split apart to cover more ground. Today, She and Langley would be going to Clavaria to delegate with the royals. Today, I'll go alone with an unconscious Alexander to Dechliant's central island to anticipate the rest of the surface world. Soon, I'll have to leave too. I have my own succession to honor, after all. Such is the nature of royalty. We have our own nations to rule and our own responsibilities to our people.
Despite myself, I caress her cheek. My heart aches with an insatiable longing. I'm in love with Ophelia. And there's nothing I can do about it. Even the Sun has places where she cannot reach.
"Whose love would endure that long? Honestly, he wouldn't blame them if they left to pursue someone else."
"But he did. Lester stayed. "
In the years since he'd gotten a mechanical body, Alexander has gotten used to waking up in the middle of the night for one uncomfortable reason or the other. Sometimes it's nightmares, memories of the past haunting him to sleeplessness. Other times he wakes up uncomfortable because the metal parts of him are making the rest of his body too cold. Usually, he'd go and take a short walk and by then he'd have enough blood rushing through his veins that he could fall asleep again.
But this time Alexander wakes up feeling comfortably warm. Both in temperature and feelings. It was so comfortable, so cozy that he almost fell asleep again immediately after.
He opened his eyes again to be greeted with the sight of Lester fast asleep, arms curled around him and legs entangled with his legs underneath the sheets. He smiles, almost a reflex at this point, he thinks, when it's about Lester. Alexander brushes wavy locks of hair from Lester's freckled cheeks, observes as the rest of his long hair rises and falls with his quiet breathing. Then, it finally registers to Alexander that neither of them were wearing any article of clothing underneath the blankets.
Ah. He flushes involuntarily as he remembers vague flashes of what had transpired a few hours ago.
Alexander looks at Lester sleeping peacefully on the bed. Their bed. After the luxury of being with Lester for the past year or so now, Alexander didn't know how his past self managed sleeping alone all those years ago. Now, every time he wakes up he gets kisses from a handsome man with his freckles looking like constellations whenever he smiles.
He truly, really loves Lester. Eight years ago, he didn't think he'd be able to say these words. Didn't think he even had the capacity to feel in a romantic way, much less this intimately with anyone. Indeed, for the first few weeks of their relationship, there was a time where it felt odd coming out of his mouth. Odd, but right. Alexander doesn't think that anyone else would make him feel this way other than him.
I mean, six years? Whose love would endure that long? Honestly, he wouldn't blame them if they left to pursue someone else.
But he did. Lester stayed.
Whatever goodness it is in him that Lester saw, Alexander doesn't know. But as the days go on, He's more and more inclined to believe that he's worth sticking around for.
Alexander leaned over the love of his life to kiss his forehead. He would do anything for this man if it meant he'd be happy with him. He settled back under the covers and held Lester closer to him and soon fell back asleep again.
So they say, in the unremarkable is where you find the universe sublime.
Langley wasn't anything special. He wasn't some son of a king or a wealthy businessman. Yet it couldn't have been any other man in Dechliant that could get him to unravel like this.
It was a frustrating, yet intoxicating how much of a spell he had on him. Langley was his antithesis. His tan, sun-kissed skin looks full of life compared to Alexander's pale, corpse-like pallor. His smaller, wiry frame looked diminutive next to Alexander's larger, muscular build.
Cool blue eyes looking down on warm purple ones. Rough, calloused hands grasped on elegant, pianist fingers.
Langley could be any other stranger Alexander normally would miss, yet it couldn't be anyone else. No one else could be this beautiful. It's not him to find comfort in dances with uncertainty, but finding his footing when duty calls is second nature to Alexander.
For now, he embraces the heady thrill that the free fall brings. One clandestine rendezvous at a time.
M Rating for bedroom allusions, nothing graphic though
Canon Divergent Oneshot Set during the lull between Act 3 and 4
Also crossposted on AO3
The dread that clarity brought in refused to settle down.
'Maybe because it's Alexander', Langley thought as he glanced at the man sleeping like a stone beside him. The Supreme Commander of Clavaria in the flesh right before him, literally. His imposing figure somehow remained intimidating, even without the uniform.
A hazy memory resurfaces from the inky depths of drowsiness. Langley couldn't help but grimace at the second-hand embarrassment. He'd never drank before, at least not like last night. But really, the most the alcohol did was fill his head with a warm, pleasant buzz and lower his inhibitions a little to act on desires that were already there. Drunkenness wasn't like how the romance books depicted it to be. He wished it was, so he wouldn't have to confront the truth that for the most part, he was in full control of his actions. He was in full control of the words that left his mouth.
'So,' Langley thought, flushing a little, 'What then, does that say about Alexander? What does it say about him when he was being--'
A murmur from a low, gravelly voice broke him out of his train of thought. Alexander had turned his head to face him. "Qui… vets..?"
Langley feigned confidence. If he was going to be mortified about this, he'll be damned if he wasn't going to bring Alexander with him, "I thought I ordered you to call me Langley instead." He said, a direct allusion to a specific memory.
Alexander turned his head away from Langley, but he could see a flush creeping from his cheeks to his neck. Langley felt smug. 'Hah, got em.'
It took a while before Alexander spoke again, "We slept together."
The urge to reply sarcastically was tempting. Instead he opted for a simple, "Yeah, we did."
A pause settles between them, the silence amplifying the tension to an unbearable degree.
Alexander glanced at Langley, narrowing his eyes, "We shouldn't have." He sat up and stared at his hands, blanket cascading off his chest to reveal his sculpted physique, "I... shouldn't have."
It was hard to get a proper read on what Alexander was really feeling. The room was dimly lit by moonlight flitering through the windows. Alexander wasn't making it easy either. His eyebrows were furrowed but his lips weren't scowling. A bonafide unreadable expression. The mark of a diplomat, through and through.
Langley frowned for the both of them. "Do you regret it?" He craned his head to look Alexander in the eye, "If you could redo and unfeel everything, would you?"
Alexander faced him head on. His brow more furrowed and lips thinned into a fine line, "What's your objective here? What is it you stand to gain from this?"
"I'm not looking to gain anything." It was Langley's turn to avert his gaze, "All I'm saying is, I still meant all the things I'd said. I thought you were-- still think you are attractive. I... wanted to see you disheveled, stripping off that military uniform. That the faces you were making looked so good with your undone hair." The word-choice was deliberate, despite not being verbatim. He's trying not to focus too much on the specifics. Even just by going off the blurred imagery of hazy memories was enough to get his blood rushing below the blankets again.
"I wanted you." Langley pressed harder. He sat up so that now he's eye to eye with Alexander. "I wanted. still want to make a mess out of you." The quick glance to his lips doesn't go unnoticed, and Langley feels an inexplicable warmth pool at his chest.
Alexander looks down and mutters, "You've already made a mess of things." If Langley couldn't see his lips, he wouldn't be able to know. It was barely audible.
He chose to point out another thing entirely, "You never answered my question."
Alexander inhaled sharply and sighed. "It'll be sunrise soon. Won't your associates be looking for you?"
"They'll be fine. I'm honestly still spent." Langley said as he'd returned to laying on his back. "Yours?"
Alexander glanced at the door, "They know not to enter my office until I've already went out for the day. Admittedly, I—" He paused, the look of someone realizing what they're about to say on his face. "I feel like I need more rest."
Langley gestured lazily, "Well... It's your bed, so..."
It was silence again for a while. Langley looked at Alexander intently from the soft pillows. He was right beside him and yet his eyes looked like he was miles away, deliberating every move. The moonlight casted on his troubled face made him look almost ethereal. The same moonlight that illuminated him as he tried to get him on his side. Langley's still not buying his crazy ideals, but damn. Alexander is gorgeous. Like a marble statue, in all ways. He honestly still doesn't know how he managed to get in his bed.
"I..." Alexander paused and looked at Langley's lips. Langley gave him a look of silent understanding. Alexander's throat bobbed as he seemingly swallowed down his hesitance "May I?"
Langley responded by propping himself up his shoulder to make it easier for him. Alexander put one hand on his cheek gingerly and kissed him softly. It was chaste, nothing like the way they made out with so much heat, hunger and want earlier in the evening. And yet, Langley's heart stuttered and filled up with warmth.
