* This boy was my fav from day one, and he’s gonna be your fav too with all the sweetness stored inside his body
* He’s a little awkward because he’s generally on the quiet and shy side, and this will typically be something that stays the same throughout the relationship
* He loves giving gifts, specifically flowers. With every gift he gives, there will always be flowers. Unless, that is, you hate flowers. Then he subs them out for anything else you’d prefer.
* Prefers coffee shop dates to dinner dates, but will happily oblige in fancy dinner dates if it makes you happy
* All in all, he’s always trying to make you happy. Do try to return the favor, it will trigger the warmest smiles from him that will melt your heart
* Loves cuddling, prefers to be the smaller spoon, but as long as you’re both entangled together he’s good
* The best at taking care of you if you ever fall ill. Knows home remedies and recipes to get you back up and functioning. Plus more cuddles that inevitably get him sick. He still wants to cuddle tho
* He likes making you laugh and smile, seeing the brightness on your face usually ends up making his day ten times better and he will bend over backwards just to see you smile
* Likes to keep PDA behind closed doors, but will indulge in the occasional hand holding if he’s comfortable, aka around the Glaive Quad Squad
* Would adore having a pet with you, and is probably the one who brings it up at first. But can you really say no to him?
* Speaking of, boy has an impressive set of puppy eyes that he knows how to use. It’s like a secret weapon or something, and I swear you will not last long when he whips those things out
* Will read or sing you to sleep if you ask him to. If that doesn’t help, he’ll stay up and talk with you till you both pass out.
* Big fan of pillow talk and could go on for hours, but you usually fall asleep before then, which is fine, it gives him a chance to admire you without it being awkward
* Will often just stare at you from across the room. It’s kinda intense the first few times you catch him because he keeps staring and he doesn’t even notice you’ve caught him. He just carries on with soft admiration in his eyes
* Doesn’t often get jealous easily. He places the utmost trust in you, and also expects that in return. It’s one of his most important qualities
* Honestly, all Pelna wants is to make you as happy as can be. He’s probably doing a fantastic job, but he still needs the reassurance at times
Notes: I was actually listening to two different songs while writing this, but chose to use the lyrics for the first song I was listening to. The title is a reference to the other song
Warnings: Minor Violence
Song: You are the Reason
The war had spread. You'd know. As soon as the wall went away, Niflheim was ready. And now you stood amid the dusty wreckage of your war torn home, listening to the last desperate cries of the living.
“The Kingsglaive,” someone uttered.
You glanced up, the sting of lingering smoke watering your eyes. “What?”
“The Kingsglaive. They’re fighting the Niffs, and they’re recruiting
That was all that needed to be said.
~
The Glaive slammed on the ground, back arching and stomach heaving up the past hour’s lunch. A chorus of other Glaive’s--the veterans, you had been told--erupted into laughter, leaning against the rails and nudging each other.
You glanced over to the Captain, who had only born a scowl throughout the training. It seems your little lot wasn’t looking so good.
The new recruit brushed himself off, huddling off to the side to allow the next unfortunate recruit to give it a go, all to a chorus of taunts.
“Aw, better luck next time!”
“Still looking a little green aren’t you?”
You flinched when the Captain called out your last name, gesturing for you to take up your Kukris. It seemed that you were the unfortunate recruit to go up next.
Eyes pricked hotly against your back, watchful of your every move. You took up the Kukris, weighing the blades in your hand and staring down the stone wall you were to warp to. The veterans had made it look so easy. Just fling the dagger and the rest was taken care of. From what you had seen, it wasn’t like that at all.
“Any day now!” a voice called out, followed by several other jabs and laughter.
You gritted your teeth, taking a deep breath to still the thoughts of your mind and the sneers of the others. You raised the blade, flinging it in the direction of the rocky pillar, letting your body do the rest, as instructed.
They had tried to describe what it had felt like, but no words could do it justice. It was the sensation of jolting awake right before you were about to fall asleep, looped endlessly. Your body was pulling itself at the seams, painfully so, and the colors that invaded your vision were both indescribable and innumerable. It felt as if you were lost in the sensation before you remembered the purpose. Just as you recalled it, one hand met the surface of the cool rock, the other coming to grip the dagger.
It was spinning--the entire training room--and you swayed unsteadily, fighting for purchase against the rock. Nausea swirled in your unsteady gut, but you swallowed it back down, not letting it escape the confines of your stomach.
A few whistles and shouts greeted your ears, but it was a false sense of security. The closing of your eyes was what did you in. Grip slipping from both the rock wall and the blade that had found refuge, and the sensation of weightless falling greeted your body. You hadn’t anticipated that this was the way you would find your death.
A spark of dazzling blue, and instead of concrete meeting your back, warm arms encased you. They were solid and gently laid you down on the ground.
“You all right?” The voice that encouraged you to open your eyes was soft with a pleasant lilt.
Gentle, probing brown eyes met your own, and you were falling all over again in the most loving of ways.
He must have been uncomfortable with the silence and the intense look you were giving him, because he filled it with a half chuckle, rubbing at the back of his neck and breaking eye contact. “I was never a big fan of the whole warping initiation either.”
And like a fool you continued to stare and gawk before uttering a soft, “Yea…”
He seemed to perk up at the response, adding in a soft smile. You had thought you’d be able to keep your food down, but that smile was stirring up your stomach all over again.
He thrust a hand into your face and pulled you to your feet. “Pelna,” He offered, still holding onto your hand with his own. “Pelna Khara.” Soft brown eyes, dark curly hair. He was the beginning of the end for you.
~
Turns out Pelna associated with a circle that was far too high profile for you. At least, from what you had heard.
The other recruits, the ones that had made an unspoken bond to each other to weather the training together, whispered about each of them whenever they could. They were in awe of these people in a way that the Lucians could never understand. They were the true heroes, the ones that were fighting for homes that had been lost, the ones fighting to reclaim what had been wrongfully stolen. And in a way, you started to believe in them too.
But despite the rumors, you’d find your eyes tracing sketches over his face anyway. He had captured your attention and held it selfishly ever since his hand had met yours. He didn’t even know that he was the object of your affections, and likely never would. Too high profile for that. But your pining would continue, despite your best efforts. Admiring him from afar was the best that you could do to stifle it, but at times you wondered if you were making things worse for yourself.
It was made especially worse when a few weeks into your training he actually started to acknowledge you. You were sure that had he not caught your eye and given those soft smiles with those brown eyes and dark, curly hair that it would have passed. But here he was, offering a smile and an awkward half wave upon meeting your eyes from across the training room. The amount of times he had done so each time he caught you staring was immeasurable, and each time it was just as embarrassing, if not more so, than the last. He probably thought you were some sort of stalker tracking his every movement.
But if it was the only form of contact you could have, then so be it. It would have to do until the silly, little crush fizzled out.
~
It didn’t fizzle out.
It wouldn’t fizzle out.
Like a stubborn thorn, it stuck to your side, and every attempt to pull it out only managed to push it in deeper. Especially on the day he came to speak with you.
Gone were the days of lonely pining and longing looks from your end of the spectrum with a simple question. He was all dimples, soft gazes, and stutters when he requested your presence later that night at a rundown place where the friends he had made gathered together to release the stress of the days.
And it was here where you began to make them your friends too. Nyx was, well, an enigma, to put it plainly. You had never known a more quietly cocky man, balanced only by his loud, but humble companion, Libertus. Crowe was simply the icing on top of it all, but also the base holding them all together, bringing her smart, albeit sarcastic remarks and audacious personality
Luche, ever stoic and bitter, occasionally joined in the conversation, but remained as tight lipped as ever, except for the occasional chuckle.
Tredd showed sometimes, his flirtatious remarks being murmured in your ears promptly followed by a smack on the arm by one of the others.
And finally, Pelna. Sweet Pelna.
Just as anticipated, he was as quiet, but dimply. So dimply among the people he called friends. You don’t think that same smile ever crossed his face when within the Glaive headquarters. Here, he was free from the responsibility laid on the shoulders of a soldier, and the war was forgotten as long as they were here, this bubble that protected them, allowed them to forge friendships, and maybe even something more. You hoped so, at least.
~
You swore you could place his actions as affectionate, but that could never be guaranteed. At least not with how subtle he was. At times it was difficult to tell friendly gesture from romantic gesture, and sometimes there didn’t seem to be a difference. Pressed side by side, it just seemed as if he had grown on you and enjoyed your presence as much as he did the others’, if not more.
There were looks shared around the table when he took his place at your side, but nothing more was said.
It was sweet and pure infatuation that brought his hand to gently rest upon your own, and you could feel it shake just the slightest bit as he tried his hardest to look anywhere but at your stacked hands and face. Soon, you entwined your fingers with his, clutching tightly, so as not to let a moment escape.
~
The first kiss you shared was one of soft lips and chaste pressure against your knuckles. It was promptly followed by more handholding each night. And for a while that was all there was. It could be considered platonic for the way that Pelna simply was, but the way his eyes melted and his shoulders relaxed when he found your fingertips was anything but a friendly gesture. At least you hoped it was.
The second kiss you shared was a press of lips against a stubbled cheek, one that had taken Pelna off-guard and had him flopping for a solid three minutes before he had taken your own face and pressed a pleasant kiss to your own cheek.
And from there, it was history. The most dazzling and bashful of smiles meeting one another across the room, eyes that playfully bounced off of each feature before meeting in a melting and tender gaze. It was a love that you had never known, one that was far too splendid to be available to one such as you. That much you knew.
~
You weren’t sure for how long Drautos has been recruiting the Glaives, or why he had targeted you. But he did, and the pressure was all too intense. The gazes of those you had come into the organization with and even those that you had not, they were all pressing down on you at every moment, pushing your own free will away.
And you supposed that they were the reason why you had accepted the offer, had pledged yourself to the cause and had kept it well hidden from the others. You weren’t the only one. Luche had sent a lethally cold gaze your way when you took your designated spot next to Pelna, a warning that passed over the heads of everyone else present. They were under the pretense that they were safe here. How wrong they were.
The propaganda, you were sure that’s what it was, was like a vice around your throat. A constant reminder of what the King had taken from you, the homes that had been lost, the families buried under the rubble and left to rot. If he was so powerful, why hadn’t he stopped it? Never before had these thoughts crossed your mind, but they were invading every crevice, some spat from the mouths of the King’s own Glaives.
It was incredible how far the hatred had spread and how it had penetrated the ranks. Everywhere you walked, glances were made, not the warm looks from your lover, but anxious and angered ones. The dynamic was changing, and you were sure that the fragile string that held everything together was about to snap.
And snap it did, with a backlash that sent you reeling. Sent everyone reeling.
You were uncertain as to what exactly was to happen when the order was given besides chaos. And that’s precisely what happened on that Niff ship. Friend against friend, brothers and sisters turned to fighting one another in the blink of an eye when the order was given.
One hand countered the strike sent your way, the other plunging the blade into the soft flesh of your opponent. You had seen him once or twice around the headquarters, but it was all meaningless now. It was as if you were running on autopilot, never once resting. If you did stop, you worried it would all come crashing down around you and the consequences of the actions you had taken would strangle you. Their eyes, despite being partially hidden, were what had done you in the most.
Fortunately, you had yet to find the warmth of familiar brown hues, and you were grateful. For now.
~
The rational part of your brain, the one that had tried to stop you before you began, was chiding as you rushed through the dark. Dawn would be coming soon.
Those empty soldiers, with hollowness etched into their shapes had come in shipments. They housed everyone, Glaive or no, even the ones that had pledged themselves to Niflheim. There was no safe harbor anywhere, so all that was left was to run. How you had made it thus far was a feat incredible all by itself. And when you believed yourself safe, you let your weary bones slink against the wall, a hand resting against your chest, where the erratic pulse of your heart pounded in your brain, a dismal reminder for all you had wrought.
Where is he?
I hope he made it out.
Astrals, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did this to you.
An aching sob ripped from your throat, before being quieted by a hand over your mouth. It was useless to do this now. You had to keep moving, however tired your body, however tired your heart.
When the sun arose in the sky over a smoked city lying in destitute, you were sure that you had made a mistake. Whatever you had sacrificed was not worth so much destruction. You had expected… you didn’t know what you expected.
You stumbled through the ruins, over the pieces of rubble before you reached the peak and slid down the other side. The sight that greeted you was almost peaceful, only interrupted by the already dead body of your captain and Nyx, whose body was fading and flaking away.
“Nyx?” You breathed, finally glad to see a familiar face. “Where’s Pelna?” He was the only thing that had been on your mind since it all began.
Nyx turned just the slightest bit away from the sunlight, revealing the damage done to his body. You wanted to ask what had happened, but Pelna’s wellbeing came first.
Instead of offering a worded response, Nyx shook his head tiredly, more pieces of him drifting on the wind, shedding colors of dawn in their wake. He was either too tired to respond, or too far gone.
Your legs finally gave out from underneath you, and you were too tired to do anything but have tears leak out of your eyes, dripping onto stained concrete.
Once he faded completely, body dissolving into the rays of sunlight that gleamed ever brighter, you realized you were now alone. You didn’t even know how he had died, where his body was laid to rest. It could be buried under the concrete, just like everyone else.
I don't wanna fight no more
I don't wanna hurt no more
I don't wanna cry no more
Come back, I need you to hold me a little closer now
He asked you first—and nearlytripped over himself doing so. He’d definitely have to have his eyeon you for A While before he does, and preferably would like to besome kind of close to you first. (He’s a bit of a sucker for theFriends-to-Lovers trope, you see. If “Friends” exists in Eos,he’s forever lowkey salty that Joey and Rachel didn’t gettogether in the end.)
It’s not the end of the world ifyou’re not terribly close, but definitely expect him to fumble withhis words and actions more. I wouldn’t put it past him to haveprobably rehearsed, multiple times, what and when and how he wasgoing to ask you. (He probably does this even if you are friends, but it’s a weird balance of even more comfortable and evenmore nerve-wracking. He really doesn’t want to ruin whatevergood-natured relationship he has with you.)
In fact, that’s exactly how it endsup happening. You caught him. Rehearsing. Out loud. He looked alittle mortified when he turned at the sound of you clearing yourthroat and saw you standing there, but he recovered fairly quicklywith that boyish smile of his. Or, he tried to. You didn’t have theheart to tell him that he looked nervous as all fuck. (You did havethe heart to tell him yes, with a sweet smile youhad a hard time fighting, and at least he was able to wait until youwere out of sight and earshot before he gave one of those subtlevictory punches.)
He’s pretty traditional when itcomes to first dates—dinner, coffee (or tea for him), and awalk—but it still makes your heart flutter when he picks you upright on time, leaning shyly against your doorway with a bouquet offlowers in your favorite color. But it’s like, the kind of shythat’s endearing, and he knows it’s endearing,and he’s doing it entirely to charm you.
He offers you his arm at first, to beall gentlemanly about the whole affair, but eventually theconversation you fall into is so casual that you don’t need to. Ittakes time, but the more you talk to him, the more comfortable youmake him feel, and the more he feels like he’s on a level playingfield with you, instead of putting you on some kind of pedestal. Andthe even more fortunate thing is that the silences don’t feelawkward in the slightest. They make you feel like you’ve known himfor years beyond reality, even if you’re already friends; it makesyour hand slipping down to take his feel like a smaller deal than itprobably should be. It makes it feel like home.
He will, absolutely, without a doubt,argue with you about footing the bill(s). Not necessarily because hethinks the men should treat the women to a date (and in fact, one ofthe things that endeared you to him was a salty comment he made onceabout how pervasive heteronormativity is sometimes), but just becausehe feels like it’s the polite thing to do. You honored him byagreeing to a date, so in his mind it’s only right to repay you forit. You might have to remind him that it’s not a transaction; hedoesn’t have to pay you for going out with him,but you both know it’s more complex than that.
Eventually you strike up a deal: hepays for dinner, you pay for coffee/tea and dessert. It’s not anentirely balanced agreement, but it’s one thatyou’re both happy to come to. It’s how you find out his favoritetype of cake—Victoria sponge—and that he cradles his cup of teain both hands when he drinks. There’s something quietly beautifulabout the whole thing when the cafe’s an hour out from closing andyou’re the only two customers left, talking and laughing in hushedtones in the corner.
There’s a part of Pelna thatbelieves in love at first sight, and an overwhelming majority thatbelieves that it’s supposed to punch him in the gut when he leastexpects it. It happens, as it turns out, when you smile at him,utterly genuinely, from across the table, and tell him you’rehaving a wonderful time. And that you’d like to do this again if heever has time.
He walks you home, all the way to yourdoor—it’s a matter of respect for him, and he also wants toensure that you make it home safe. There’s a lot of scuffed heelsand cleared throats as you’re fumbling with your keys, and from theway his gaze lingers to the way he jams his hands in his pockets it’spainfully obvious that he so badly wants to kiss you good night.
But he doesn’t. He, respectfully,lets you go, and says good night with his words and a little waveinstead, and stays until you close and lock your door.
It’s only after you’ve taken maybethree steps into your apartment that there’s a knock at your door,somehow nervous and insistent at the same time. When you open it,he’s standing there, eyes burning just as fiercely as they werebefore. The only word on his tongue is a breathless, “Hi,” andyou’ve barely gotten out a greeting of your own before he kissesyou, soft but full of conviction. His hands, half-callused, cradleyour face the way he cradled that cup of tea, and his lips move withpractice. Every moment of pulling away is absolutely reluctant, andhe’s still out of breath when his lips ghost against yours, likethey’re begging for another kiss and holding him back all at once.
He whispers “good night,” again,with that smile that has your knees knocking, and this time heactually lets himself go, so that you’re the one lingering in thedoorway, watching him leave. Because as much as he wanted to kissyou, he certainly won’t stay over on the first date. Even if hewanted to.
One last detail: he texts you when hegets home, so that you know he’s safe. Then he texts you again, ifonly to say, I’d like to do this again, too.
