Finally in the boat of getting fixated on ships there's not a lot of content for, and two at once too??? Perenor and Sunspell my absolute fucking babies, but also hhhhhhhhhhhh
Marvin was 10 years old, entering into his first day at Ebon Hall. He clung to his backpack straps tightly, as if they'd keep him on the ground when he felt so ready to simply float away. The sights and the sounds and the smells of the school were all too much at once. And he quickly realised not knowing anybody here was going to make this so much harder, unlike the other students who were already in their cliques and friend groups, leaving him to flounder atop of everything.
His eyes roamed the classroom as he gripped the straps of his bag in misfocus, so the hand tapping at his shoulder was enough to make Marvin nearly jump out of his skin, rounding on the culprit with fear, then intrigue.
A kid about his age, with short locs atop their head, who was smiling at him like they hadn't made his ghost leave his body and return. Then before he realised what was happening, the kid was sticking their hand out to him and introducing themself, "I'm Sunday."
Marvin faltered for a moment longer as his brain got up to him and then he grabbed their hand back. "Marvin." For a young kid, their grip was strong as they shook his hand, holding it and leading him to a seat next to them.
The rest of their school year together went much the same.
Marvin was 13 years old, making a replica of his future magic necklace with Sunday when he was pulled off of Sunday's bed by the blanket he was lying on, their hand pressing against his head as they held it out of the way playfully, both giggling all the while.
Marvin was 17 years old, playing his handheld upside down on his couch with Sunday curled up on the next cushion. He could feel their eyes on him every so often, usually when the game they were playing together got particularly exciting--namely when it seemed Sunday was about to beat him, and then didn't.
"Oh, come on, you can't keep doing that!" he shouted, hanging his arms down to the floor.
"Do what?" Sunday asked, smirking and biting their lip. "Losing?"
"Letting me win! It's not fair if I get all the wins because you keep staring at me..." he said it only vaguely annoyed, but more confused, the question popping out before he could keep it in and he lifted his head to look at them. "Why do you keep doing that, anyway?"
Sunday shrugged, looking back to their own gaming device before peeking at Marvin and seeing their friend roll his eyes, then getting back to the game. They couldn't stop themself from looking again, at the way his growing hair fell to the floor in a mop of auburn, and his green eyes stared at the device, and his tongue poked out in concentration...
Marvin's eyes rose again, and this time Sunday didn't look away, their intent staring causing heat to flood to Marvin's face--he'd deny it was anything but his position hanging off of the couch.
Marvin was 22 years old, getting ready to graduate uni, smiling at his mum and Ramesses as he achieved his long-time dream, then turning and winking at Sunday as they took their diploma next--pride swelled in his chest as he watched them happily live out their dream as well, a blush settling on his face that he couldn't be bothered to hide.
Marvin was 28 years old, a full-fledged magician of The Magic Circle, thus leading him and his fellow magicians to danger more and more often, including good old, capable Sunday. That didn't stop the worry building in his stomach as he saw the attack headed straight towards them.
He shouted at them, but ran at the same time, suddenly lunging and getting them to the ground just in time. Their breath fanned his face as they tried to gain it back, their eyes wide as they stared up at Marvin. Their heart was pounding wildly, the sound filling their ears and blocking out the sounds of the fight around them; it felt like it was just them and Marvin in the world right now.
"I warned you," Marvin chided, before noticing the position the two of them were in, and he couldn't stop his eyes from flitting to Sunday's lips, the only thing visible of their face, his mind wandering even though they were in the middle of battle. But... they were hidden well enough, he supposed, carefully leaning down to kiss Sunday and revelling in the way he flustered them so easily, just like they had his whole life.
As he went to move off of them to help them back up, they grabbed his cloak and pulled him back down, kissing him fervently as if it was the last kiss they'd ever get.
Marvin was 35 years old, splayed out on the couch with his head in Sunday's lap, their soft hands running through his hair and lulling him into a calm as he hummed and enjoyed their company with Higgins on his own knees, petting the cat just as calmly, words forming in his mind that he shot out without thinking as he looked up at Sunday: "I love you."
