Disclaimer: Not mine

Tea Time Comes Around

Naoji's fingers quaver beneath the weight of the tray he carries to Ludwig's room. He stiffens his thumb over an elaborate handle to steady it; Ludwig would not appreciate wet saucers. Particularly, perfunctorily, he counts the gaps between doors and walls until he reaches his destination. "Yes?" Ludwig's voice is muffled but Naoji hesitates anyway before stepping inside.

Ludwig smiles through half-lidded eyes and he inhales the fragrance before murmuring, "Your tea always calms me, Naoji," and drinks. Naoji nods, as if glad.

Tea making is a woman's job, back in his country. It is custom for the wife to offer it to her husband, and the act of courtship is little more than cups of tea pressing back and forth between a couple. Ludwig's cup clinks against its dish and he frowns, seeming disturbed. "Is there something troubling you, Naoji?" This is a demand, and Naoji's heart flutters beneath its adamance.

"No," he says, immediately, then, "Yes." Ludwig's brow rises eloquently. Naoji reddens. "I love you," he blurts. And then, feeling as if no more harm can be done, adds, "I've loved you since you first discovered me. Since you first drew me into your world."

Ludwig blinks; his face is now carefully guarded. "Ah," he says, and murmurs, "Is that so."

Naoji nods, and feels the blood burst to life in his cheeks. He bites his lip and does not bring his eyes to meet the gaze that burns upon his face. "Naoji," he hears, and releases his lower lip in favor of the other one. "Naoji…" he hears again; it is soft and delicate, like a lover's hand. He hazards a reckless glance upwards.

Ludwig's eyes are blank. "Naoji, you make my tea."

Naoji swallows. He feels small and foolish. A door closes gently but firmly within him.