Brown hair and big brown eyes, your newest Boy was the epitome of beauty. But so had been the last one with his blue eyes and blond hair and the one before that who had the softest ebony skin you'd ever been so lucky to caress.

It had been a fun week with him, this brown eyed Boy. Normally you'd have ghosted him by now or he'd have been completely cool about it and not contacted you again. You kept him around because he made you laugh sometimes, which was high on your list of requirements in a partner.

But things needed to end. Not only because you were beginning to have painful cramps as that time of the month approached, ending any sexy times for the foreseeable future, but because this Boy said one of the worst things he could say. At one of the worst times.

A favorite movie of yours was a particular type of love story about friendship. You didn't really get romantic movies, but friendship made your heart swell. You were in the middle of watching it when the Boy said, "I bet your friends are cool. Will I get to meet them sometime?"

You paused the movie to look at him. He was talking during one of the best parts. And he wanted to meet your friends after only being with you for a week? Shiva, this wasn't going to work.

—

An email from the university tipped you off before you'd even had your morning coffee.

Due to inclement weather…

You tore back the curtain at the window of your living room. Everything was covered in snow so white you had to blink to adjust to the brightness. Gloves and scarf and one —no, two coats later— and you were tugging on your boots when Prompto called.

"Let's meet at that dog park," he said instead of greeting.

The dog park was located approximately between your apartment buildings. Neither of you had dogs, but it was where you always met if you weren't going anywhere in particular. "Of course."

—

The park was empty when you arrived. Perfect. A short cobblestone wall bordered the property, reaching as high as your shoulders. You stuck by that wall and began to make snowballs in advance to get Prompto with. That sucker had no idea what was waiting for him.

Except he seemed to have the same idea, popping up from hiding on the other side of the wall and pelting you with snowballs, one after the other. You tried to dodge them to no avail. He was just too good.

All you could see was his face over the wall and his hands that came up to grip the stone. He laughed loudly as you dusted and shook the snow off. His shit-eating grin only grew when you swiped snow from the wall into his face.

"Come face me on this side of the wall, you coward," you laughed.

With a hand held up, he uncovered the camera he'd been hiding underneath his scarf. "Just one sec. Hold still."

You didn't move, long used to his sudden pictures. Sometimes you didn't actually look terrible in them. You knew he was just trying to catch the drops of melted snow in your hair or something. Which made it easier to be in them. Photos weren't your favorite thing.

Once he was done, he climbed the wall rather than go all the way to the gate, landing next to you easily and giving you the dorkiest finger guns as if you were supposed to be impressed.

That Boy had been right, your friends were pretty cool.

—

Four hours deep into editing, you dropped your head onto your desk. It wasn't even halfway finished. Before you could properly edit, you had to arrange the data of each file and wade through all the scenes and outtakes. You couldn't stand to do this part of the job.

One day, when you were a successful director, you were going to pay a team of other people to do this crap for you. Until then, you could only dream and keep slamming coffee so hard that the porcelain of your mug clanked against your front teeth each time. It was the only thing keeping you awake through this boring process. Even though it was only three in the afternoon.

Your phone had been lighting up for the past few hours, beeping with notifications until you silenced it. Now, with your head on the desk, you looked at it as another little message popped up on the screen.

186 notifications on a photo you've…

The message cut off since it was only a preview, but you had some idea of what it was about. Prompto must've posted that photo of you in the snow on binstagram and tagged you in it. He always raked in the likes for his pictures. The idea that 186 strangers saw your face and decided they liked what they saw was a little weird, but who cared when Prompto was so proud of his work?

You opened the app to check it out. He hadn't sent the photo to you —you never asked to see them anyway— so you didn't know what to expect. It was a close up of you peeking over the stone wall, just your eyes and snow covered hair and hat. The caption read Winter Dweeb.

Bahamut's sweet buns, you should've known to expect this. He'd posted two other photos like this before. One last July of you holding a sunflower that obscured most of your face, titled Summer Dweeb. And of course, Autumn Dweeb had been taken in October, just weeks before meeting Noctis and the others. That one had been taken in a costume shop, a scary mask obscuring your face. You didn't mind them so much; a dweeb was probably the least insulting thing you'd ever been called.

You scrolled down the comments, knowing damn well that you shouldn't. The usual compliments on his photography. A few constructively critical comments. Among everything, you noticed a comment left by Gladio that simply said Juicy.

Poetic.

He'd been a mutual follower of yours for months now. You loved the ridiculous pictures he posted of different ways to eat cup ramen, and had commented on a particularly hilarious one with the word Juicy. Ever since then, he'd commented on every photo you posted with that word. It had been annoying at first, and you'd slid into his DMs with a cease and desist message. Then it had become one of the few constants in your busy life.

If a friendship could be defined by the comment of juicy on a photo of the litany of plants that were arranged on your balcony, that was what you had with Gladio.

On this particular iteration of the running joke, someone had replied to his comment with Is that any way to remark on such a nice photo? You didn't recognize this person coming to defend you. Not the username nor the vague image of a bookshelf they used as a profile photo. You couldn't even creep on them because their account was private. Not that you blamed them. Everything you did online was super private ever since— anyway, it didn't matter because you seemed to be catching the conversation en media res.

Gladio replied with an eggplant emoji.

The other person said Absolutely not.

Oh. You knew who it was. Duh.

He accepted your request to follow him just a minute later. Though he wasn't in a single photo, you knew it was Ignis because the most recent thing he'd posted was of the fireworks you'd watched from the library. He never used captions. Boring. Even so, you wasted too much time looking at all of his photos when you should've been editing.

He'd been to Altissia in the last year. Each photo was more beautiful than the last. You wondered if he knew Altissian, and decided to test it out.

—

You: (I see you've been to Altissia. Can you read what I'm saying?)

You typed it out in perfect Altissian and sent it with an alternative goal in mind. When he responded in kind, you were elated.

Ignis: (Yes, I'm fluent.)

You: (I'm not surprised.)

Ignis: (Knowing other languages is important for someone in my position. It's a bit strange that you know Altissian.)

You: (I had a lot of free time and no friends in high school.)

Ignis: (I see.)

Why did you say that?! Even in Altissian, there was no way the awkwardness of that statement would've gotten lost in translation. Switching to Lucian, you decided to just get to the point.

You: Are you free anytime this week?

Ignis: I'm afraid not. May I ask why?

You: I might've forgotten to have you sign the creative talent release forms before we filmed so I legally can't show my film until you give me permission.

Ignis: Mail them to my office. I'll send you my postbox number and the address.

You: You're a lifesaver, Iggy.

Ignis: When do you need them returned to you?

You: The application deadline is next month. No rush.

Ignis: The sooner the better. Prompto will be at the Citadel on Monday. I'll give them to him, if you trust that he won't lose them.

You: That's cool, thanks.

He never responded after that, but you were too busy wondering why Prompto was going to the Citadel to care.

—

At work on Monday night, Prompto handed the forms to you in a carefully organized folder that had Ignis written all over it. One glance inside at the elegant handwriting had you feeling like you were holding something terribly precious.

"Are you nervous?" he asked, watching you stuff it into your bag underneath the counter. He began to make more popcorn even though you had plenty. A roar of laughter from one of the theaters echoed down the hall toward you.

"Yeah, dude." You were so nervous about submitting the film with your internship application, you didn't want to think about it. Like, at all.

The past few days had been spent distracting yourself by wondering about Prompto's activity in the Citadel. If he was reconsidering the Crownsguard, you had no doubt that he'd make it in even without Noct's help. You just wished he would give you fair warning before ditching you to live that life.

—

"Why don't you start a blog to showcase your stuff?" Prompto leaned on the counter, his expression bored. Neither of you had anything to do. Mondays were always the slowest at the theater.

You rolled your eyes. "Prom, no one does that anymore."

He scoffed, flicking a popcorn kernel at you. "I just made one and it gets a lot of traffic, y'know. Easier than hauling around a portfolio."

Pretending to think about it, you put a hand to your chin. "Maybe." Everything you'd done so far, the few short films, the pile of unfinished screenplays and scripts, none of it was good enough to see the light of day. It was terrifying enough that actual Altissian filmmaking professionals were going to be judging your film.

Why did you have to make it about erections again? You were beginning to regret everything.

—

You: I should've made you go shirtless. Why did you have to be so fussy?

Ignis: What are you talking about?

You: I can't submit the film.

Ignis: Oh, I see. Why is that?

You: Because of a lot of things. One of them being your refusal to not wear a shirt.

Ignis: I'm afraid I don't understand what brought this on. You didn't mind before.

You: I know! I'm just freaking out a little!

Ignis: A little? If it'll ease your mind, why don't you have a viewing to get feedback?

You: Your advice is somehow even worse than Prompto's.

Ignis: Excuse me?

Ignis: I remain confused about how this is my problem.

You sighed and shoved your phone into a pocket. Business in the theater was picking up since a movie was starting soon. Better to not bother Ignis with your nerves anyway. It wasn't really his fault.

—

Prompto was sweeping and you were restocking the cups when he asked, "Just by looking at him, how would you rate a kiss from Gladio?"

You stared at him across the room. "I'd have to kiss him first. That's the rule. You can't rate it before you've tried it."

"Just guess."

"B+."

He paused, leaning on the broom and grinning. "That's pretty high."

"Why are you even asking?" You frowned at him. "I told you I don't like Gladio that way. He'd crush me during sex."

Prompto shook his head and went back to sweeping. "I only asked because he mentioned something today."

That piqued your attention. So whatever Prompto was doing at the Citadel had something to do with both Ignis and Gladio. It was definitely Crownsguard related stuff. Just great. You didn't mind, you really, truly didn't.

"Well, that's cool, Prom." You refilled the supply of straws a little roughly and tried to distract yourself. "If I had to rate the others, Noctis is probably a solid C and Ignis is definitely an F."

He surprised you with a light laugh. "Why so low for Iggy?"

You let a small smile slip onto your face as you looked at him. "Doesn't he seem like the type to either be a virgin or have a sex dungeon? No in between with guys like that." It wasn't fair to say that when he wasn't around to defend himself, but who's to say you were wrong?

—

It was your first time in such a classy speakeasy. The person you were meeting with was different than the usual type who took interest in you. He drew the chair out for you when you sat, complemented your dress even though it didn't quite suit the rococo style of the bar, and expressed how far his interest went by continually finding reasons to touch your hand that rested on the table.

He wasn't bad looking and clearly had expensive taste, but whatever cologne he was wearing had you holding a hand subtly over your nose every so often. Aside from that unfortunate factor, he was an okay date so far.

Only a quarter of an hour into your date, you were surprised to see a familiar face take seat at the table just behind the man you were hoping would take you home later in the evening. In what must've been the closest thing he had to casual wear, Ignis settled into his seat, opening a briefcase and pulling out papers and things while saying something to the server.

You couldn't believe your luck. Leaning your head just slightly to the side, you looked at him, and for a moment he didn't notice. When his eyes met yours, he paused, hand holding a pen as if he were about to write. He seemed to take in your situation, looking at the back of your date before returning his gaze to you. A small nod, then he was back to minding his own business.

You didn't return any sort of gesture, not wanting your date to know that your friend was sitting right behind him. It didn't appear as if the man noticed much, though, as he continued to talk about himself and his career. One cocktail in, and you'd already forgotten half of what he said because he came at you so densely packed with such dull information.

"I go outside the Wall and hunt in my spare time," he said, finally piquing your interest. "You could say I'm one of the best in Lucis, actually."

"Amazing." You pretended to be very impressed. "You must be an incredible fighter."

A small laugh seemed to come from Ignis, brief in nature. When you tilted your head a little to narrow your eyes at him, you only caught a small smile. He kept his eyes trained down at the files and papers he had spread across the table. The server came by, carefully placing his drink down on the only open surface. You found it a little weird that he came to a bar to do his work. It was his kind of place, you reasoned, eyeing the fanciful nature of the speakeasy. But still.

"I hate to brag, but yeah," the man said, recapturing your attention, though he didn't seem to have realized how often he lost it in the first place. "I'm good at three things, and I think it's because they're closely tied together. Fighting, dancing, and fucking."

Oh, so your date was a go right for it type. You could work with that. Bringing up the topic of sex was a pretty big move so early on in the date. Hopefully he pulled through on whatever promises he was about to make.

As he continued on, you found yourself looking at Ignis again. This time, he smiled directly at you. Nodding at your date, he rose a brow. What was that meant to mean? Did he think you were bombing it because you hadn't been able to get a single word in for some time? Because you kind of felt that way.

Shrugging slightly, you looked at your date again, humming as if you agreed with something he was saying. When he made a joke, you laughed overly hard at it, grinning widely to show Ignis how much fun you were having even if it was weird that he was right there during the date. Youweren't bothered or distracted by having a friend present. Except you were completely bothered. Not even Prompto had ever encountered one of your temporary partners so the circumstances you found yourself in were entirely foreign.

A vibration coming from your phone caught your attention. You'd hidden it in your lap under the table. Peeking at it, you caught a message that had you sending a subtle glare to the man behind your date.

Ignis: You have something in your teeth.

Pursing your lips, you excused yourself and went to the restroom to check if he was being truthful. You did have something right between your two front teeth. How embarrassing! And the man hadn't said anything about it.

You: Thanks, but can you go away and do your work somewhere else?

Ignis: I don't recall you owning this bar.

You: Come on, Iggy, I'm trying to have a nice time here. Seeing your face is ruining the sexy vibe.

Ignis: I'm so sorry that my presence isn't as intoxicating as that of the man who's cologne is an affront to society

You: It's not that bad.

Ignis: It is so. Aside from that, he's spent nearly an hour lying directly to your face.

You: What? Everyone lies on first dates.

Ignis: Do you?

You: Always.

You: You better be gone when I come out in a minute. I've been in the bathroom for way too long already.

Ignis: He hasn't even noticed you left. He's still talking and looking up as if in deep thought.

You didn't reply, returning to your table to find that Ignis hadn't been lying about this either. You sighed quietly, annoyed at how he was picking apart your date so skillfully. Normally, you'd be indifferent to people's quirks; Ignis pointing each thing out made them hard to overlook.

Your date was boring and had clearly invited you to this bar you couldn't normally afford to eat at because he was compensating for how boring he was. He didn't even notice when you sent off another message.

You: My date's ruined now. Thanks.

You watched Ignis read the message. A small frown formed on his face. He didn't reply, picking up the papers and things from his table and putting them back into the briefcase. He downed his small drink in one go, left a payment on the table, and stood up with a small stretch.

Unsure of what he was going to do, you tensed when he walked past. He didn't do anything. He left the bar. You turned in your seat, mouth slightly gaping as your eyes trailed after him. Straightening yourself, you looked at your still rambling date. Why had you expected Ignis to do anything anyway?

Several minutes passed, five becoming ten. The situation didn't get better with Ignis' absence despite what you'd told him. Probably because the date being bad hadn't actually been his fault. Another small vibration came from your phone, and this time you didn't try hiding it when you checked. Your date was as oblivious as he was boring.

Ignis: Have things improved?

You: Not really. :(

Ignis: Apologies.

You stared at the message, stomach grumbling because the food there was served in such small, expensive doses, and head aching from the boredom. Suddenly, you'd had enough.

Looking from the message, up to your date's face, you interrupted, "Hey, sorry, I actually have to go."

He looked disappointed. "Why?"

"Uh, emergency," you said. "My dog just… died… in a fire."

"Just now? I'm so sorry. Should I go with you?"

"No, no." You shook your head quickly. "I'll call you sometime. Thanks for, um… for the fun time. Bye."

You were outside before you even had your coat on. Sighing in relief, you took in your surroundings. You had the day free so you didn't necessarily have to rush home. Stomach growling again, you decided you'd backtrack to that dive you passed on your way to the speakeasy. They advertised having the best burgers in the Crown City.

—

The place was warm and crowded when you walked in. There wasn't an open table in sight, but you froze in the doorway when you saw Ignis sitting at a table with his things spread everywhere again. Feeling yourself drawn forward, as it always seemed to be with this particular person, you walked past crowded tables and took the only other chair sitting at his table.

He looked up, surprised to see you. "Hello. What are you doing here?"

You waved a hand to get the attention of a server. "I'm starving, and this is the only open seat in the restaurant."

Ignis looked around as if he hadn't noticed the busyness of the place until you'd pointed it out. "So it seems."

After putting in your order, surprised to see Ignis ordering a burger, too, you met his eyes in an unwavering look of indifference.

"How was your date?"

You shrugged. "Considering I'm here with you and not on my way to his place, you could probably guess."

Organizing his things, shuffling papers and putting files back into the briefcase, Ignis seemed to need a moment to gather himself. With the table cleared, he looked at you. "It's not so bad to miss out on an evening spent with such a bold liar as that person."

"Iggy, I already told you," you sighed. "Everyone lies on first dates."

He rose a brow. "I don't."

Looking at him, at his unbuttoned collar that showed off the necklace he always seemed to have on, at the piercing eyes behind his glasses.

"Because you don't have to lie to impress people." You lifted a finger and began to count things as you spoke. "You're a Crownsguard, which is a big deal on its own. You're a royal advisor, nobility, wealthy, handsome, well mannered." Pausing there, you scrutinized him. "You weren't made in a lab, were you? By a team of scientists looking to create the perfect bachelor?"

He blinked, mild confusion giving way to a chuckle. "I don't believe so."

Your food came, and as you tucked in, you said, "I bet you do lie. I bet you have to lie to play yourself down instead of playing up like everyone else does."

He swallowed a bite of food before answering quietly, "I wouldn't know. I don't have time for such things."

That did seem to be something Ignis had in common with your date. He was boring. It didn't matter how rich and handsome someone was. If they were married to their job, they didn't have much to offer when it came to dating. And Ignis seemed more than married to his profession. From what you could tell based on Noct's comments about him, his role as advisor was his bread and butter, his entire life force.

Which was why you suspected you were catching him working off hours at bars and restaurants on the weekend like this.

"Let's pretend," you said, coming up with a small idea. If Ignis was going to be your friend for long, you didn't mind helping him. And, gods, did he need help. "This is a first date. I'm going to play myself up, and you have to play yourself down. We can meet somewhere in the middle. It'll be good practice for you."

A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I don't think—"

"Great, I'll start," you interrupted, biting into a fry. "I'm a television director. What do you do for a living?"

He didn't look like he was going to humor you. Frown still on his face, he seemed to think it over, then said, "I'm a tutor."

You shook your head. "That's too low. Think bigger."

"A professor."

Smiling, you said, "Perfect. It's obviously a lie because you're way too young to be teaching at a university."

He looked away from you. "This is ridiculous."

That made you snort, a hand coming up to stifle it. "I'm directing that really popular show about dragons, you know the one?"

He nodded, eyes meeting yours again.

When he didn't say anything, you sighed a little. He needed a small nudge. "What do you teach, professor?"

Pursing his lips, he relented. "Literature." He continued before you could go on to your next lie. "Working in the entertainment industry, you must know plenty of famous people."

"Uh, yeah. I know lots of famous people." You were losing the plot, confused by his sudden directive. "My best friend is… Beyoncé."

He stared at you, and you stared at him. A small smile grew on his face. "Wouldn't that be too big a lie?"

Gaping a little, you tossed up your hands. "You threw me off! I didn't expect you to ask me anything." You grumbled and mumbled, ending the silly game to focus on eating your food. It was dumb anyway.

"Forgive me if I'm overstepping," Ignis spoke up after a short stretch of silence. "Are you so knowledgeable on the subject because you've been on many first dates?"

You didn't care if he knew about your dating habits. It wasn't something to be embarrassed over. With a shrug, you said, "Yeah. Every date I've been on has been a first date."

"So you lie in this way every time?"

When he put it that way, you felt like you should've been embarrassed. Which annoyed you. "Pretty much."

The look he gave you then was sympathetic, and you didn't get that at all because he was the pitiful one here, not going on dates and not knowing how to not be boring. He was working on a weekend, for Astral's sake.

—

He walked you to the nearest train station, telling you it was on his way home anyway. It wasn't. After waving goodbye and walking toward the turnstiles, you looked back to see him walking back in the direction you'd come.

After your failed attempt at teaching him the trick to first dates, the meal you'd shared had become quiet. He'd spent half of it writing things into that small black notebook he always seemed to carry. It hadn't been awkward so much as different. He wasn't exactly the same alone as he was with the other guys.

You wanted a friendship with him to work. Noctis had grown on you a lot recently, and Gladio was hard to hate. All that left was Ignis, who'd seemed pretty unapproachable until you'd realized how nice he actually was. Boring and stiff, but nice.

You crossed through the turnstile, thinking about the short walk from the burger dive to the station. He'd gone out of his way to walk you there. It wasn't like the area was dangerous. He was just that kind of friend who did small things to be nice, apparently.

Too bad you were the kind of friend who pestered others until they grew to like it. You really wanted the friendship to work, but you weren't sure someone like him could handle it.

—

Sick with a cold, you spent two days straight at home. Aranea dropped off some medicine and soup once you'd mentioned it to her in passing that you didn't feel well. She was a mystery, and you'd long given up trying to figure her out. You welcomed all the care you could get.

Marathoning a show Prompto had suggested, you lay on your couch in a bundle and intermittently used the fancy handkerchief you'd borrowed from Ignis to stifle your coughs. He wasn't getting it back anytime soon.

There was an insignia in one of the corners that you hadn't originally noticed. You examined it closely after a small sniffle. Yep, there it was. That same design that was on Ignis' pocket watch. The regal bird, the book in its talons, and the spiraling vines and leaves that circled it, it was a wonder how someone could embroider something so intricate.

Ignis had to expect this back. You rubbed the soft fabric between your fingers. Maybe you could just conveniently forget that you'd ever borrowed it. The damn thing was softer than a chocobo's ass. Your deliberation was interrupted by a loud growl from your stomach. When you reached the kitchen to make soup, you paused in front of the fridge.

Wait.

In all of its pretentious glory, the invitation to the New Year's Eve celebration sat wedged between a picture of Bokeh and a takeout menu. You took it off to look it over for a similar symbol.

But, no, the design on the invitation was completely different and much more recognizable as the symbol for the Lucian Kings. The one on the handkerchief was obviously Ignis' family crest or something similar. You'd ask him if you thought he'd actually tell you. Better to Moogle it to find answers.

You set it down on the counter and continued your task of warming up soup. The thing needed to be put away. New Year's Eve was weeks ago and you hadn't even went to the celebration. Awkward to have something like that on display for so long afterward.

While you waited for the soup to heat up, you looked at the invitation again and folded it closed. From your junk drawer, you found the envelope it had come in and put it back inside. Throwing it out completely was the best thing to do, but it was so fancy, it felt like a waste. It even had a wax seal on the back to keep it—

You blinked, holding the envelope closer to your face. The small, intricate design pressed into the wax seal was the same one on the handkerchief in your hand.

Interesting.

Either Ignis had lied when he said he didn't work in the Royal Mail department at the Citadel. Or something strange was afoot.

A succession of sneezes halted your detective work, but once you defeated the cold, you'd reopen this investigation and sleuth out just what the hell was going on.

—

Walking through a filthy showing room, you picked up trash. Prompto was on the other side, going down the parallel aisle and doing the same. You always had about ten minutes to clean the entire place between movies. And sometimes that wasn't enough.

You reached a hand into a cup holder for what looked like a wadded up napkin. It wasn't. Whatever it was, the goopy mess was sticky with clumps of things in it that you couldn't quiet discern. You gagged as it stuck to your hand, which you lifted to show Prompto.

"Dude! What is this?!"

Instead of helping in the slightest, he laughed and shrugged. "I dunno. Looks pretty nasty."

You sighed. "Is spring break in Galdin Quay worth this? I could be spending this time studying instead of working to pay for that stupid trip."

"Yes!" He was quick to answer. "Don't let the mystery goo hold you back!"

That was easy for him to say. He didn't have it all over his hand. You stomped to the exit, leaving the rest of the room for him to clean. If a beach trip was worth it to him, he could do it all himself.

You hated this job.

—

Free of goop, you helped Prompto make popcorn. It was like clockwork, working with him. Once the newest wave of people had filed into the cleaned theater, he turned to you with a grin.

"I almost forgot. Iggy's birthday is next week. We're throwing a party at Noct's."

You rearranged some condiments, only half listening. "He doesn't seem like the party type."

"He's not. It's more of a hangout, and it's a surprise."

"How old is he turning? Forty?" You paused in your task to feign a worried look. "Because he acts like it."

A wadded up napkin hit you as Prompto snickered."I thought you got along with my friends. What gives?"

"I totally get along with them." You knew you could just look up Ignis' age online, but Prompto was right there. "Just tell me how old so I can get him a card or something."

"Twenty three." Prompto shrugged. "But it doesn't matter. Don't bring a present. Gladio is stealing one of Iggy's cookbooks, and we're gonna try to make his favorite foods."

A smile crept onto your face. That birthday hangout was going to be a disaster.

—

You were, by all accounts, simply an amateur gumshoe. But after a bit of a search, you found the Scientia crest on some historical database and felt really proud at confirming your guess about what was embroidered on the handkerchief. You looked at it intermittently as you tried to find some connection between Ignis's family and the Royal Mail department, but there wasn't one.

Then you began to dig around in classical noble practice in general. It was entirely possible, and likely, that the wax stamp on the invitation meant nothing. But you were going to cover all of the bases first before tossing the suspicion away.

It was fascinating once you began to really delve into the information. Apparently Insomnian nobility had different rites of passage that they met as they grew up, and they had a lot of tricky etiquette practices that made you wonder how Gladio got by. Made complete sense why Ignis was such a stick in the mud, though.

The thing that struck you was the mention of how important a family crest supposedly was. It was used in most things, notably courtship, which was a process expected from men once they reached twenty three. Women were pressured even sooner when they became twenty. You rolled your eyes at how antiquated all of it seemed, grateful to be a commoner for once in your life.

Wasn't Ignis turning twenty three in a few days? This was the perfect ammunition to pester him with once you saw him. Just trying to imagine him courting someone was comical.

According to the information online, which you weren't sure you trusted, the sign of courtship beginning was when a person accepted a gift from another with their family crest on it. That made your eyes bulge. You looked down at the handkerchief uncomfortably. As much as you wanted to keep it, you needed to give that back to him as soon as possible.

Even if all of it was bullshit, you weren't going to take any chances.

—

You: Love that article about you in the Eos Daily today. Tabloids love making nobility look like fools, huh?

Ignis: I don't even recognize that magazine title. You should stop reading such things.

You: I only look at them when I am stuck in a long checkout line at the store.

Ignis: That's how they get you. Next you'll be believing in aliens and swamp creatures.

You: Too late.

Ignis: I'm not surprised. May I ask what the article was about?

You: Look it up yourself. I'm not your assistant.

Ignis: Perhaps, but you seem to have a knack for finding information about me, however untrue it may be.

You: So it's not true that you are going to be of courting age soon and plan to seduce the entire city with your cunning wit? Too bad they don't know how bad you are at first dates.

Ignis: Tell me you're joking.

Ignis: I can't believe this.

The little dots kept going as he typed, and you quickly replied to stop his sudden distress.

You: Wow I just made that part up. Are you okay?

Ignis: That joke wasn't funny nor was it good.

You: I didn't know you were so touchy about your love life. Gods, calm down. The article was funny though.

You: Apparently you are raising an army of Sahagin in the sewers to overthrow King Regis.

You: I'll send you the link.

Ignis: Please don't.

You sent it to him anyway.

You: The picture they used is hilarious. You look so pissed.

Ignis: I had dropped my car keys down a grate.

You: So that's why you're squatting over one?

Ignis: I don't squat.

Ignis: Riveting as this has been, I must go. You've interrupted my workday for long enough.

You: Fine. Be boring.

You: But you've totally been squatting. I can tell. ;)

You put your phone down on your desk only to pick it up again when a succession of beeps rang through the room. Gladio had opened a group chat with you, Noctis and Prompto. That was new.

Gladio: Nice

Prompto: what did u say 2 iggy?

You: What? Don't bother me when I'm studying.

Prompto: we saw ur profile pic on his phone like 2 secs ago

Gladio: The only other person we know who uses obscure memes as their profile picture is Noct and hes sitting here with us in the meeting

Why was Prompto even in a meeting with them? You hated not knowing what was going on.

You: What's the meeting about?

Gladio: Don't change the subject and just tell us why Iggy is so flustered

You: Wow, Juicy. Is he really?

Prompto: uh juicy?

Gladio: yeah, juicy, he couldnt focus on the meeting for a full minute thats when we caught him reading a text from you

Prompto: he looks mad at us :(

You: Ask him if he's been squatting recently.

Noctis: He's definitely mad now

You: Of course he's mad. He's totally not receptive to my flirting.

Prompto: don't flirt pls D:

You: I'm joking!

You were only kind of joking. To be fair, you weren't really flirting, but if that's all it took to make Ignis squirm, you liked your chances. He was such a dork that he only needed one mention of his ass to make him flustered? That was so cute you could barely understand it.

Noctis: Keep it coming and Iggy might forget to ask me about the reports I haven't read yet

Prompto: lol

Gladio: Hate to break this up but we're still in a meeting guys

You: Still curious about that.

Prompto: ill tell u l8r I promise

You left them alone then because you really did need to study, not to mention the loads of editing you still had to finish. An hour passed before your phone beeped again, and you tore your eyes from your opened books and the computer screen to see if Prompto was finally going to explain things. But no.

Ignis: You're insufferable.

There was an old Altissian saying that went something like "I protect myself from my enemies, may the gods protect me from my friends" and you were tempted to send that to him as a fair warning for the type of friend you were.

While you would've loved to get into another Altissian conversation with him, you were elbow deep into researching for a paper with no apparent end in sight. So you kept it short and silenced your phone after sending.

You: I think you mean charming.