You made it through finals in a haze of coffee, weed, and anxiety. The two exams you had to take weren't hard. You felt you could've drawn dicks on the essay pages and still passed, they were that pointlessly easy.
The hard part was sitting through all of the shittiest student films —including the one your own group made— and being forced to genuinely critique them as a final. You knew it was your lingering depression and grief over losing Bokeh coloring your mood, but you didn't care. You ripped everyone to shreds. Too many one liners. Bad dialogue. Cliches. Terrible camera work. You judged everything with pinpoint accuracy, knowing you were guilty of doing each thing yourself.
Everyone tried too hard. Everyone wanted to be the next big famous whatever when they left the university for the entertainment industry. Including you.
So three of your days during finals week were spent reviewing all of the most contrived pieces of motion picture art to ever be spat out of the so-called tormented minds of amateur filmmakers.
This was supposed to be the best art university in Lucis, yet this is what your peers came up with. The future seemed bleak.
—
On your way home after enduring the last slew of poor films, you were accosted by messages and beeps on your phone. Prompto had opened a group chat, and kept typing the same thing over and over. So he was in one of those moods today.
Prompto: lads its hang time
Prompto: hang time
Prompto: hang time
Prompto: lads
Prompto: its hang time
Noctis: The fuck
Prompto: it's been 2 long let's hang 2nite i have the new assassins creed
You: Too long? It's been a week.
Noctis: I'm down
Gladio: whats in it for me?
Prompto: u get 2 see ur faves
You: I can't make it. Sorry guys.
Prompto: wat but finals r over!
Ignis: I'll also have to decline.
Prompto: my plans r falling apart b4 me D:
You: Don't be so dramatic.
Gladio: why can't you and iggy make it? have something to tell us? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Wow, could he be any more on the nose? You knew exactly how to deal with this. Hopefully Ignis played along.
You: Yeah we're going on a hot date. Right Iggy?
Prompto: wat
Ignis: Indeed. We will be far too busy at the cinema tonight.
Prompto: WAT
You: Which movie?
Ignis: The new superhero film?
You: Try again.
Ignis: No? I only assumed since you enjoy comic books.
Noctis: I heard it was overhyped
You: I thought you'd want to see that political thriller.
Ignis: I do. If only I had the time to spare.
Prompto: wat r u guys really doing
You: I'm going to that year end party at the DKA house tonight.
Prompto: ew a frat party srsly?
You: It's free booze and you know they're all just film nerds like me.
Prompto: ya w/e :(
Gladio: hey don't worry shortcake i'll be there
Prompto: thx gladio i see who my real friends r
Ignis: Some of us have responsibilities. Perhaps another time.
You: Yep this party is a big responsibility for me dude. I need to get trashed asap
Prompto: fine ok
Prompto: but since u r ditching us, u have to tell me something about the new boy
Noctis: Not this
Gladio: new boy?
Prompto: her new boy! the one who broke the dry spell
Noctis: I hate this
Ignis: As do I.
Noctis: Yeah well you haven't had to hear about it for the past week
Prompto: u guys dont get it! its a big deal ok
You: It's really not.
Gladio: i'm game, tell us something good about this guy
So Gladio still wanted to try putting you on the spot. He couldn't actually expect you to say anything that would implicate Ignis, right? Chewing on your lower lip, you thought for a moment before replying.
You: He's super into feet and sucking toes.
Prompto: lol wow
You: He's always like yum yum let me get my mouth on those sweaty little phalanges baby.
You: You guys remember how he likes coffee?
You: I dipped my feet in Ebony for him… I was pretty much drowning in jizz.
Ignis: How delightful. I think you've said enough.
Gladio: No I gotta hear more
Prompto: shes lying
You: No shit. I never give details about the people I hook up with. What makes you think I'd tell you anything about this one?
Prompto: bcuz u said u have a titan sized crush on him
Your amusement dissipated at the sight of the message. You'd told him that in confidence! How could he just say that in front of the others? In front of Ignis! Somewhere, at that moment, Ignis was probably reading those words with his own eyes.
You: I'm praying for Titan to crush you right now.
Prompto: dude lo like this? just admit u want 2 keep him
You: Keep him? He's not a pet or property.
Prompto: u kno wat i mean
You: Keep talking and I'll tell Aranea about that nasty thing you did in my bathroom with that picture of her.
Prompto: nooooooo pls dont
You: I'm calling her now.
Prompto: then im telling noct u had a crush on him when u were 13
You: All the girls had crushes on him back then. It would've been weirder if I hadn't. Sorry, Noct.
Noctis: no big
Prompto: D: ! dont tell aranea or ill tell every1 about that sex dream u had last week
You: It's not as bad as the sex dream YOU had. About someone in this chat.
Gladio: this just keeps getting better
Prompto: im sry ok i just want 2 kno *sumthing* about this guy
You: It doesn't even matter. I'm hoping to have some other guy balls deep in me soon enough. Bye jerks.
You silenced your phone and spent the rest of the train ride home trying to convince yourself that you weren't freaking out about Prompto inadvertently telling Ignis that youmight have a crush on him.
You'd told Prompto that during a moment of deep admiration because Ignis had been there for you at a vulnerable moment. That's it! There was no truth beyond that now that you've had time and distance to separate you from the flustered woman you'd been on the way back from the countryside.
—
Between beer pong and body shots, you were wasted and feeling immensely better than you had all week. Your safety buddy, an acquaintance from one of your classes, had done a good job of keeping an eye on you all night. It was good that she didn't drink. It was also good that she was into girls because you'd been vibing with her more than any of the drunken fraternity brothers in the house.
She had an adorable laugh. When you tumbled into her bed at three in the morning, she giggled against the kisses you were desperately pressing down her neck.
"You're too drunk," she said, smoothing your messy hair out of your face. "Just get some sleep."
You pouted, seeing doubles of her in your vision. She was right. Her bed felt like a cloud, and she looked like a goddess with her bedside lamp lighting up her dirty blond hair like a halo. Her eyes were a bright emerald, and you were beginning to realize you might actually have a type.
—
You were kind of maybe a little mad at Prompto. Ever since he'd said you had a crush on Ignis, you hadn't seen or heard a single word from the man for days. It wasn't as if he hadn't always been busy. You just felt some type of way about it that you didn't really want to think about. You didn't care what Ignis thought of you or your alleged crush. It was his fault for being there for you and flirting with you and kissing you and—
You groaned, rubbing hands down your face. Today wasn't the day for thoughts like this. You'd signed up for a two day film contest held by the university. Everything was random —who your crew would be and the genre of your film— and would be decided right before the contest began. Then you'd have two days to write, film, and do post production. It was going to be fun. As long as the genre didn't end up being romance.
You were met with good and bad news when you made it to campus. The good news: the genre randomly assigned to your group was one you loved. Dark comedy. The bad news: the person you hated most, that toxic person you'd worked so hard to keep out of your life, was on your team.
—
The first couple of hours were spent quickly putting together a script. Everyone liked your plot idea, so you were the one stuck typing out every stupid line of dialogue the team came up with. Too many one liners. Typical. Every line couldn't be a dumb one liner, that ruined the effect, and it made no sense.
He insisted on going with you to the library to have the copies printed and organized. You checked your phone intermittently, avoiding any kind of confrontation. You wouldn't even give him friendly small talk. What could you possibly have to talk about? Being near him made you feel hideous.
Hopeful to distract yourself from the situation at hand, you flipped through your short list of contacts to find someone to talk to. Some kind of reassurance was needed. Some kind of mental block you could put up between yourself and this horrible person so that you could actually enjoy this stupid contest. Prompto was working, Noctis was probably still in bed, and you had no idea what Gladio and Ignis were up to.
You: Juicy, am I pretty?
Sending the message to Gladio, you stood quietly by as a printer shot out page after page of script. He stood next to you, crossing and uncrossing his arms as if he were the uncomfortable one. When you walked back, your phone chimed, and he took the copies from you without asking.
"I've got it," he said, shrugging when you gave him an annoyed look for finding a reason to touch you. You didn't need his help, but if he was going to pretend he had a considerate bone in his body, you weren't going to stop him.
Gladio: wow not even Iris asks me stuff like that anymore
You: Is that a no or a yes?
Gladio: hey you're as cute as the other guys if that counts
You: Thanks, that's totally what I was looking for.
Gladio: sorry juicy you're fishing for compliments in the wrong place
You: Yeah yeah. I'm just feeling ugly and needy today.
You put your phone away, meeting with the rest of the team and passing out the scripts. Maybe an assurance of your physical appearance wasn't what you needed to get rid of the slimy feeling you had around him. Gladio was terrible at giving compliments, apparently. You'd thought he'd be better because of all those lascivious romance novels he read. Flowery language and all that. But no.
—
You were stuck holding a boom mic, tensing every time he told you to do something. Because of course he had to take the lead, and everyone seemed to be miraculously charmed into letting him do it without issue.
When it was time to break for lunch, he put a hand on your shoulder, asking where you wanted to eat. You jerked away, eyes wide and glaring. He shared a look with someone else on the team as if there was something wrong with you. Then he laughed. It grated on you like sandpaper against an open wound. While you ate later, questioning why you'd even signed up for this stupid contest, he approached you alone this time.
"Sorry about earlier," he said with a scratch to his head. As if he were nervous about approaching you. What a joke. "I see my touch isn't welcome anymore."
"Just keep your hands to yourself," you spat. There was no room for patience with him. He didn't deserve it. "It's not that hard to respect boundaries."
He held up his hands. "I get it. We're professionals here." Sliding down into the chair across from you, he grinned. "It's nice working with you again."
You rolled your eyes. "It's just a two day contest."
He rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward. "We were always good at small projects. Your ideas, my direction."
Stabbing at your food with your fork, you sighed. Every part of you felt tense, internal screaming at his proximity. You didn't respond to him, but met his eyes in a dead stare as you kept eating.
"I saw your blog," he said. A smile stretched his face oddly. "Your film about fear and sexuality is impressive."
You'd known there was a chance he'd find it since your blog wasn't private, but you still felt as though your privacy had been invaded. You paused mid-chew, frowning and swallowing the bite almost painfully. "It's not that deep. Just a guy afraid of boners."
"Maybe." He shrugged and leaned back in his seat. "Still, I loved it. I'm sorry for not realizing how good you are at directing."
"Don't be," you bit at him, more tired of this conversation than angry. You, seemingly, couldn't have even a meal without him bearing down on you in some way. "It doesn't matter now."
Burying your attention into your phone, you ignored his presence. You tried willing him to disappear, not just out of your line of sight, but out of existence completely. Sadly, the gods didn't want to help you out with that one.
—
Feeling dumpy, you made a stop by Craigory's dorm for an edible —a cookie that you hid in your pocket— and made plans to eat the entire thing in one go and listen to loud music for the rest of the night.
Upon arrival home, you were ambushed to by Prompto and Noctis to make up for your terrible crime of ditching the them to go to a frat party. They forced you —though you didn't fight it one bit— to join them in going to a festival that only you seemed to have no prior knowledge of.
The most pressing issue you were met with was seeing Noctis in a sombrero and matching outfit. It was meant to help him blend in because everyone at the festival presented a mishmash of cultures in their attire, and you had to admit, it was working. He led you and Prompto through the festival with surprising excitement. You hadn't seen him in such a good mood since spring break and had begun to think he didn't enjoy anything anymore besides sleep and video games.
The streets were closed off in an entire district, crowds everywhere, giving you reason to gently grip the hem at the back of Prompto's shirt as you weaved through people from vendor to attraction. When you recognized one of the streets you were walking down, you pointed at a building not far away. "I love that tequila bar! Let's make a pit stop."
"Hell yeah," Noctis agreed, throwing up a fist that had recently been tattooed. The henna was still setting in, brown designs etched onto his skin.
"I don't think so, Prince Charmless." The back of his collar was grabbed by a large hand, and you followed the arm up to an amused Gladio. "Gotta keep you together for the big meeting with his Majesty in the morning."
Noct struggled a little, then teetered on his feet when Gladio let go. "When did you get here? And why?"
Pointing over his shoulder, Gladio grinned. "Iris wanted to check it out."
You let go of Prompto and pushed past them to get to the young woman. Even the smallest bit of estrogen would've been nice. Having mostly men as your closest friends was fine, but you wouldn't say any of them really understood you on a level that you bet Iris could if you got to know her.
When you caught sight of her, you were surprised to see that little boy you'd met at her home weeks before was at her side. Talcott, you remembered. So he was real.
They were a few yards away, talking to what you could only perceive to be some kind of shaman or fortune teller. He was dressed in showy black robes and wore a spectacularly tilted fedora. Upon better inspection when you grew closer, you saw that he was middle aged. It was kind of hard to tell. He gave off the feeling of being older, but you couldn't really place it.
"If you've an item, I could inspect it for curses for a small fee," he said to Iris and Talcott, waving his hand with a little flair. His red wine-colored hair was unique, and you wondered if he considered himself genuine, or if he just liked to swindle people prone to superstitions. He noticed you as you stopped next to Iris, his smile growing wider. "What about you, miss?"
It wouldn't hurt to have fun with it; you had some gil to spare. Digging into your bag, you held out the token, the shine of the festive lamps glinting off its golden exterior. "Pretty sure this is cursed."
He took it from you slowly, and you felt Iris poking you in the side with her elbow. One look over and you caught her mouthing hey with a smile before she walked off to join the other guys. Talcott was focused on the fortune teller who turned the compact over in his hands with considerable care.
"Oh, I sense a dark energy indeed." Rather than the grave tone you expected, he sounded almost amused. "This was a gift. From someone close to you."
You nodded. This was obvious stuff so you weren't impressed.
"This person is dangerous and adept in magicks." He looked down at Talcott as he spoke, and you knew then that he was putting on a show. "I would say… a level ten warlock with terrible intentions. He's out for blood."
Talcott gasped, and you smiled down at his shocked expression.
When the strange man returned his gaze to you, he continued, "He's also likely after your maidenhood."
Oh no, not your precious virginity. The guy would have to do better than that.
"But," he continued, drawing out a dramatic silence for several seconds. "He will first take away everything you hold dear."
That… surprisingly struck you. A faint remembrance of your dream about being married to Ignis and trapped inside coursed through your mind anew.
It was like the fortune teller could tell, a corner of his mouth curling with a smirk. "You've met with disappointment and grief recently. I'd say it was the machinations of this warlock."
He could probably read that in your expression. You'd been down on yourself and your life even before losing your chocobo. So you eased a little, telling yourself he probably gave this exact spiel to everyone.
"You're… afraid of something." He rose a brow, and you realized he might've been asking you to play along.
"Maybe," you said, shrugging. "So what can I do?"
He considered you carefully. "You could curse the person who placed this great burden upon you. Or you could make a wish."
"What's the difference?"
"A curse is straightforward, much like the nature of this object you carry." He offered the token back to you, curling his fingers over it right before you could pluck it from his palm. "Wishes are boundless but require effort to enact."
You furrowed your brow, hand hovering over his. You wanted your token back. "How does a curse work?"
"A verbal curse works anytime, anywhere, as long as you're near the subject of your vexation as you say it. Always begin it with 'may' and don't be afraid to chant."
Slowly, you nodded. That was probably the extent of this act. Taking out some gil, you handed it to him without counting. The compact was warm when you gripped it in your hand again.
"Thanks," you said. "I'll give it a try."
He took off his hat, placed the money inside, and put it back on. Shiva's tits, this guy was good at being strange. Like some kind of whimsical, charismatic mystery man with just a dash of creepy.
—
"I feel like I'm in an episode of Scooby fucking Doo," you whispered.
Iris walked in front of you, Noctis and Prompto giggling just behind, all of you sneaking down a corridor of the Citadel. The lights were off and all the shadows that shrouded everything gave you the jeebies.
How had you gotten here, and why did it feel like such a hard cut? You'd split the cookie in your pocket three ways with Noctis and Prompto after dealing with the mysterious fortune teller. Anything to get rid of that odd feeling after the so-called curse reading he'd given you.
Then you'd talked cactuars with Talcott. He thought your imitation of one was hilarious, the warbles you made while doing poses eliciting deep laughs that had him leaning on Gladio. Kids were great, actually, you thought. At least this one. So you may or may not have, for just a little while, used him in a here's-my-adorable-kid-brother scenario to pick up babes.
Ditching Gladio to look after him, the four of you walked eight entire blocks to the Citadel —legs burning, mind flying high, that's why it felt like time had skipped, you didn't want to remember the walk— because Noctis wanted to eat something that could only be found in the kitchens. Iris, not under the influence but young enough to think this was a good idea, led you through the massive building while the three of you laughed at literally anything and nothing at all.
Until the paranoia set in.
"I hope no baddies get us." Prompto had a hand on your shoulder.
Noct scoffed lightly. "Not if we get 'em first."
You looked back just in time to see a flash of light as something appeared and disappeared in his hands. What the hell was that? You'd never seen things while high before. Whatever it was tipped back the sombrero, which slid off his head and hit the floor with a muted thunk.
"Shit." He picked it up, and you stopped him from putting it back on.
"Wait," you said, touching the brim. "Oh my gods. Noct. You could use your hat is a weapon."
He snickered, hefting it in his hands. He seemed thoughtful, the darkness hiding his full expression.
"C'mon, we're almost there," Iris called in a quiet voice. She was already at the end of the corridor, waiting at the corner. She was grinning, but you could tell she was a little confused by everybody's behavior.
All three of you tumbled after her, bumping into each other and the wall you skirted. Prompto let go of your shoulder to pass you. Warm light emanated through small windows set in large doors. Apparently, that was the entrance to the kitchens because Iris stopped here and Prompto didn't hesitate to peek through one of the windows.
"Good call, Noct." His breath fogged the glass. "Iggy's in there."
Hearing that drew you toward the other window set on the other door. Luckily the doors were terribly heavy so the pressure of you leaning on them didn't send you tumbling inside.
In the warm glow of the kitchen, Ignis kneaded at something on the counter. Occasionally, he would look at a small notebook that was propped up by a cylinder of utensils. Concentrating and focused, his expression was a soft seriousness. He suddenly stopped, dusting off a flour-covered hand on the apron at his waist and turning the page in the notebook.
"Yeah, I asked him if he'd give it another try." Noct sounded close, right in your ear, and when you looked over, he was pushing past you, going through the doors.
Iris and Prompto followed, but you remained, hugging the door and watching through the window as Ignis looked up in surprise. Noct said something, looking at the pile of dough underneath Ignis' hands. As Ignis responded, the words of the conversation lost to you through the barrier of the door, Prompto prodded at the buttons on a large blender. When it came on, whirring loud enough that even you could hear it, Ignis stepped toward him and shut it off. You didn't know what he told Prompto, but the unamused purse of his lips made you smile.
Noct said something that had Ignis taking a baking sheet of little pastries from a refrigerator. That must've been what Noct wanted to eat so badly because it made him grin.
Iris peered around, then looked back toward you in the window. When she waved for you to come in, you shook your head. You'd rather be in the dark, empty corridor than in the same room with a level ten warlock who was after your blood and maidenhood.
Noctis bit into one of the pastries, saying something that made Ignis start. He frowned before shaking his head. Whatever their conversation was, Ignis appeared stern and Noctis aloof. So, pretty normal, you thought.
With a pastry each —Noct had several piled in his sombrero in hand— they left the kitchen. You stuck by the wall, certain that Ignis had no idea you were there. When the heavy doors closed, Noctis mumbled something around a mouthful of dessert that made Prompto laugh. They set off down the corridor, Noctis leading. You made to follow, but Iris took hold of your hand.
"I bet you wanna stick back for a bit, huh?" Her voice was a whisper, her smile sweet. "I'll tell the guys you're in the restroom or something."
You didn't think Noctis or Prompto would notice your absence at his point. Shaking your head as she let go of your hand, you followed her for a few steps. "Don't leave me here, Iris."
She giggled. "I'll be back in five minutes."
You frowned at her, and she misread it.
"Okay, ten minutes." She skipped off after the other two, leaving you alone in the dark.
Going back to the doors to get yourself into some light, you peeked through the small window again. Ignis was back at it, rolling the dough onto a circular stone. Ah, yes. Late night pizza. Is that something else Noct had asked for?
You had no intentions of going inside. Rather than the mellow feeling you were used to from this kind of drug, paranoia ate at you, your mind choking with thoughts on what the fortune teller had said.
He will first take away everything you hold dear.
Ignis paused, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a finger. His chest heaved with a sigh, broad shoulders stretching as he took a short break to look at the notebook again. With arms crossed, finger on his chin, he appeared contemplative.
He didn't seem all that evil. You knew the whole curse reading had been an act, but you still felt something very odd when it came to Ignis. Maybe the reading hadn't been that far off. Your luck had definitely been terrible since you'd decided to help him with his big lie.
A creak from somewhere in the darkness behind you stole your attention from the scene. Fuck. You were going to die. You should've known you were going to die in the Citadel. You did not like this place. How could things creak here, anyway? The floor was marble! Another creak had you scrambling through the door.
You rushed into the light of the kitchens, turning around as the door swung shut. Safe. You were totally safe now. Holy shit was that close
"Ah, hello. I'd a feeling you were with the others."
Trying to put on some facsimile of calmness, you looked at Ignis. Indifference, you told yourself. You were not afraid of the darkness outside the kitchens, and you sure as hell weren't afraid of Ignis. Even if he was a secret warlock or whatever. He was capable of magic...
You cleared your throat, dispelling your thoughts. "Yeah, I came to get a pastry."
He nodded as if that made sense. While he went to the same refrigerator as before to get one for you, you walked over to the beginnings of the pizza he was making. The dough was an interesting wheat color that you rarely ever saw outside the artisanal joints that boasted healthy foods. Mom always made pizzas with dough like that; it was one of your favorites. Ignis must've been on a lifelong health kick. He always seemed determined to impress the habit on Noctis if at all possible.
When you tried to take a peek at the recipe in the notebook, Ignis closed it with one hand while offering a pastry with the other. You expected a reprimand or a reproachful look for being nosy, but he avoided eye contact for a moment, taking the notebook in hand as you accepted the small dessert.
"Thanks."
"Of course." He placed the flour-dirtied notebook into a pocket of the apron and met your eyes. "How have you been faring?"
You held the pastry awkwardly with both hands, lifting it to chest height between you as a barrier. "Busy. You?"
He adjusted the tie of the apron at his waist, a small gesture you didn't recognize in him. He wasn't the type to fidget. "Much the same."
You looked at his dirty hands, at the flour that covered the apron and the dusty spots of it on his face. How could you ever be afraid of him? He was a complete dork. Holding the pastry in one hand, you reached up and gently wiped away the flour at his nose, then his chin. He froze at the gesture, eyes crossing for a second before he looked down at you in mild surprise.
You didn't say anything, dropping your hand and taking a bite of the pastry to keep from doing anything stupid. Giving him a thumbs up and a soft "Mmm" to show how great it was, you backed away toward the door. A counter got in the way, and you stumbled back. He caught you by the arm, righting you and leaving small smudges of flour on your skin when he let go.
"Careful."
You looked down at your arm, frozen for a second. The touch of his skin against yours for even that small bit of time reminded you that it wasn't Ignis that you were afraid of, but how he made you feel. Which was a lot of things. Too many things. Right now, it was predominantly discomfort.
"Um, thanks." You turned toward the door with the rest of your pastry and stopped just outside, letting it swing closed with a heavy sound that bounced quietly down the corridor. Waiting several beats, you peeked through the little window on the door for what you were telling yourself would be the last time.
Ignis had the notebook out again, writing something into it this time. You'd guessed it was a recipe book of some kind in the works. He did seem to like making them himself. Then, he looked at the uncooked pizza crust and sighed, taking off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. He must've messed up the recipe somewhere.
Again, you thought he didn't seem like much of an evil warlock. But you couldn't take your chances! Looks could be deceiving. You'd do a curse just to be safe. A little one. Very small.
"May your, um… may the…" You tried to think of a good one, thinking about the unwanted thrill you were still feeling at his soft touch. How dare he make you feel this way. "May it rain on you when you want to look your best."
There. That seemed good. You chuckled to yourself, jumping when you felt a hand on your shoulder.
Iris giggled at you, brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you doing? Did you even go inside?"
You lifted the bitten pastry as proof. "Yes."
She gave you a wary look, but it wasn't severe. "All of you are acting so weird tonight. Whatever you guys are on, I wish you woulda shared with me." She was joking, laughing as you both set off down the corridor.
You laughed along, not wanting to admit that you truly did need something to numb yourself most days, and you'd never share with her because you hoped she never needed it.
—
The second day of the film contest was spent entirely on post production. In a large study room at the library, you helped your team sift through what needed to be edited —all of it— and avoided him as much as possible. The project was coming together, and for something that was completely randomized before creation, you were a little proud of it. Even if he was part of it, too.
"Use keyframes to falsify a zoom on his face," you murmured to the Designated Editor, pointing at the footage on their computer screen. Your phone began to ring, but you were too focused on the task at hand to answer at first.
"That'll be intense," they said, following your advice.
"That's the goal." You stood up to answer your phone away from everyone. Closing the door to the study room, you walked between rows of bookshelves and kept your voice a whisper for anyone trying to study. "What's up?"
Ignis' voice was modulated, a pleasant change from the din of the study room. "Good afternoon. How are you?"
"Good." Oh, formalities, how you hated them. Slight embarrassment bit at you over your behavior the night before, but really, Ignis hadn't seen anything that strange out of you. It was the paranoia and silly curse that made you regret the edible more than anything. Ignis wasn't a gods damn warlock, and you couldn't believe you'd let that nutcase at the festival freak you out like that. "What about you?"
"Wonderful, thank you," he said, sounding surprisingly chipper. "I have something to share with you."
"Oh yeah?" You found yourself smiling, fingers trailing down bindings of old books on the shelves around you. "What's that?"
"The reason I've been working tirelessly, and the secret we've been keeping from you."
Your smile grew. "Finally."
A light breath of a chuckle came through the line, then he said, "Noct is getting married."
With a light gasp, you stared blankly at a book title. "Seriously?"
"Yes," he said, chuckling again. "It's to be in just over a month. The entire affair has been a struggle to plan and finalize due to Noct's wish to have it held privately rather than holding a large royal wedding."
It took a few beats for you to catch up to what he was saying. Noct was getting married. That nerd? He was so awkward, though. And so young. Then again, nobles were beyond backwards when it came to this stuff. He was still one of them, even if you kind of forgot about that sometimes. "Who's he marrying?"
"The Oracle's daughter, Lady Lunafreya of Tenebrae."
You gasped louder. "Oh my gods!" Someone hushed you, and you quickly made your way toward the spiral staircase in the center of the building to go to a different floor where you could freely freak out. "Is this some kind of arranged thing for an alliance or something? This is nuts, Iggy!"
On his end of the line, you could hear background noise, other voices and the shuffling of files. "In a way, yes. Noct is meant to marry her due to an agreement between our nations, but they're also close childhood friends. He took surprising initiative and proposed to her last year."
"Duuuude," you said, taking the steps down two at a time. "I can't believe this. He's getting married in only a month? I can't believe this!"
Ignis hummed. "I would agree if I hadn't spent the better part year organizing its success."
You stopped on the third floor, digging into your bag for your student card to use on the Ebony machine. "I have to know everything. When exactly is it and where—" Pressing buttons on the machine, you paused for a moment. "Wait, I'm invited, right?"
He waited for too long to answer. You took the Ebony and sat in a nearby chair, sipping it with a frown.
"We'll have to discuss it more in depth later, darling." Ignis' voice suddenly sounded taut. Along with the pet name, the change in his tone made your frown deepen. You let the Ebony warm your hand as you listened to the increasing background noise from his end of the call. He hummed again, as if you'd said something. "Have I mentioned how much I adore you today?"
You coughed a little on the coffee. "You're being creepy. Is your uncle there or something?"
He ignored your question. "Gladio mentioned something yesterday that gave me concern. I'd meant to say something last evening, but your gentle touch had inspired a bit of bashfulness within me."
Narrowing your eyes, you sent a confused glare into blank space as you tried to figure out what exactly Ignis was doing. It was difficult when the weird things he said were uncomfortable statements of endearment.
"Darling, I want you to know," he said, voice in an undertone. "Though incorrigible that you are at times, I find a dear friend in you. Perish the thought that you are anything less than brilliant."
You flushed, your glare melting. Obviously, Gladio had opened his big mouth to Ignis about your needy questions the day before. You'd already determined you didn't need those affirmations, but when they came so nicely worded from Ignis, you felt a deep warmth in your chest.
The background noise on his side of the call grew even louder. Then, you could hear a distinct voice. It was elegant, higher in pitch. Suddenly, his words meant nothing.
"Is that Mirum?" you asked, looking down at your Ebony with a flat stare meant for Ignis. "You're just saying nice things and calling me darling because Mirum is there, aren't you?"
"I'm certain I have no idea what you're talking about, darling," he said, sounding amused.
You huffed, smiling despite yourself. For such a well-bred man, he could be as big of an idiot as the others. "Whatever. I'm busy, so was the wedding news the only thing you needed to tell me?"
"I have one more." He paused, then said in perfect Altissian, "You're beautiful."
You blinked, then sighed. "For fuck's sake, Iggy, stop laying it on so thick or Mirum will hunt me down and throw a glove in my face."
"Such an old fashioned thing to expect," he said, sounding thoughtful. "Though, I suppose a duel would be quite the spectacle."
You scoffed. "I'd forfeit and let her have you."
You hung up and began the trek back to the study room. If Ignis wasn't going to give you any details about the wedding or let you know if you were even allowed to attend, you had more important things to be doing. Certainly more important than being a diversion from Mirum's apparently unwanted attention.
You'd been gone for longer than you would've liked, anyway. Who knew what the hell that scumbag ex of yours was doing to ruin the film while you were away.
—
"One of the actors in your movie, he had a pretty interesting accent."
Your eyes snapped up to his irritating face, one that you'd once thought was handsome. Designated Editor looked between you before going back to work. You debated whether or not to reply to his sudden and specific comment. If you did, you would actually have to endure a conversation with him. If you didn't, he'd keep finding other things to bother you about, and you'd get nothing done.
So you sighed. "What are you talking about?"
He smiled. Because you'd taken the bait. "The side actor who played the lover. I didn't recognize him, and he had an accent. Is he in the acting program?"
Oh, he meant Ignis. He was digging, hoping to find something he could use to hurt you. Of course he'd latch onto the sudden appearance of an unknown but attractive person in your life. You already had to blackout your mail and keep your contact information close to the vest. You weren't going to tell him a damn thing about Ignis, lest he find a way to bother the advisor, too, just for being your friend.
"No, he was a guy who just needed experience," you lied, shrugging.
"Really?" He hummed. "Weren't you with him in Galdin Quay?"
You tensed. He noticed. The smile on his face grew.
"I think you're confusing him with someone else," you said, maintaining a dead stare with him.
He shook his head. "I'm pretty sure it's the same guy. Does Prompto know?"
Your face scrunched into one of distaste. "Know what? That I have more than one friend?"
He pointed at you as if he'd just solved some big secret. "So you admit that he's not just some guy."
He was going to keep hassling until he thought he had something on you. The joke was on him. His opinions and assumptions meant less than nothing to you.
It was tempting to just let him assume Ignis was your boyfriend. That was the direction he was already heading in. Really, it would work in your favor because Ignis could easily kick his ass. But just because Ignis could doesn't mean he would. In fact, you'd bet if you ever asked Ignis to defend your honor or whatever against this guy, he'd be all "A gentleman would never do something so base" and he'd politely tell the guy to leave you alone, which wouldn't work.
No, you couldn't depend on him for this kind of thing. Even if that's essentially what you were doing for Ignis against Mirum.
Glaring at his ever smug face, you said, "It's none of your fucking business."
Designated Editor looked between you again. "What's… going on, guys?"
His smile deteriorating, your ex boyfriend shoved his chair back and got up from the table. "She's just being a bitch. Like always." He left the study room, a couple of the other team members following him out.
You took a long, deep breath. Two, then three. Then, you looked at Designated Editor. "How's it coming along?"
They looked at you for a couple of beats before nodding. "Good. We should be done soon." A few minutes later, as they kept working, focused on the computer screen, they said, "What was his deal, anyway?"
You shrugged, not wanting to think about it. You'd never known what his deal was, and it had taken you years to realize it wasn't your job to figure him out.
—
Sliding a token into the machine, the screen in front of you lit up and music began to play. You chose a level to begin as Noctis smashed buttons on the game next to you. Every so often, you sent a glance his way, and he seemed to get slightly more uncomfortable each time.
"What?" he finally asked, not looking away from the screen.
"I just—" Your character died and you slapped the console. "How did you know that you wanted to get married?"
He sighed, and you could see his face beginning to grow red. With a quick look at you, he shrugged. You'd known he wasn't going to talk with you about this, but Prompto wasn't saying anything either, which was irritating. They wanted to wait until Gladio and Ignis got to the arcade at some indeterminate time. Imagining Ignis in a place like this was hard enough. It was probably his fault they were running behind.
Trying your hand at the game again, you asked, "Did you get in trouble for the cookie I shared with you?"
"Nah. Nobody found out."
"Good. I've been worried some Crownsguard would show up, and I'd be detained for being a bad influence."
Noctis chuckled, and you couldn't tell if it was because of what you'd said or the awful noise your game made when you lost your last life. "Prompto would've been locked away a long time ago."
Crossing the arcade, you passed Prompto as he shot at pixelated daemons with exaggerated finesse. Something caught your eye. Inside a glass case behind a counter was an enormous flowering cactuar plush. It looked really soft and really cute. The flower on its head was bright pink. You suddenly wanted it more than anything.
You went to one of the attendants, pointing at the plush. "How do I win that?"
They spoke in a monotone, tilting their head toward a brightly lit console with a dance pad. "You have to get a perfect score on every song in Dance Party Blast."
That sounded too easy. You loaded your pockets with tokens, and prepared to dance until you dropped.
—
A third through the track list, sweaty, and exhilarated, you were startled to see Gladio standing next to the console. He watched you with amusement, leaning on another machine with his arms crossed.
"Hey, you finally made it!" you called over the blaring music.
"We got here two songs ago," he yelled back, smile broad.
A countdown began, and you scrambled to choose the next song. Gladio stopped you with a gentle hand on your arm. "Take a break. Let's eat."
You shook your head. "I'm on a journey right now. I have to get a perfect score on every song." Then, you pointed at the flowering cactuar plush. "To win that beautiful thing."
He looked at it and laughed. "Why bother?"
You put two hands on the railing at the back of the console. "Because I want it so bad." The countdown ended, and the Dance Party Blast mascot announced your scores. You sighed, climbing down and pouting at Gladio. "Thanks a lot."
He patted your back, but his expression was anything but sorry. "You'll have other chances."
You stopped by the same arcade attendant and pointed at the cactuar plush again. "How much to just buy that thing?"
They sighed, as if talking to you were the most laborious task, and said, "It's not for sale. No perfect dance scores, no cactuar."
You scowled. There was only one, and what if someone else won it first? No minimum wage arcade employee cared about a prize that much. "I'll give you fifty gil for it."
"It's not for sale," they repeated, crossing their arms.
Sighing, you joined the others at a table. "You guys better tell me everything that I wanna know. Or I'll be pissed."
Ignis adjusted his glasses, the bright flashing lights of the arcade reflecting off the lenses. "Is something the matter?"
"She's in love with a cactuar," Gladio answered for you, pointing at the large plush.
You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Wedding talk now. Am I invited or not?"
Next to you, Prompto nudged your side. "Actually, I wanted you to come as my date. That's kinda why…" He scratched his head. "Why I introduced you to these guys in the first place. So they'd know they can trust you."
"Oh," you said intelligently.
"Yeah." He looked uncertain. "So… is that cool?"
You blinked. No direct invitation felt a little rude given that Noct was definitely someone you considered a friend by now. Then again, being Prompto's date meant you wouldn't have to find one of your own. Smiling at him, you nodded. "Sounds great."
—
The wedding was being held at some private resort on an island in Accordo. Ignis tried explaining the importance of having it on neither Tenebraen nor Lucian soil so that blah blah can do blah , but you began to tune it out with the thought that you were actually going to Accordo. You could use your Altissian while you were there.
Knocking Ignis' leg with your foot under the table, you asked, "Do you think they speak Altissian on the island?"
His mouth parted slightly as he looked down at the table, then back up to your face. "Possibly. It may vary in dialect."
"I hate when they do that," Prompto told Noctis. "Do you know what they're saying?"
Noctis shook his head. "Never learned Altissian."
Ignis shot him a glance, then intoned to you, "I learned so he wouldn't have to."
You snickered. "Could you imagine? I bet he knows the swears at least."
Ignis smiled just slightly. "I've no doubt. Noctis often wasted his energy on useless things."
"He said your name." Prompto nudged Noct. "They're talking about you."
Noct rolled his eyes and shoved him lightly before getting up. "I'm ready to head out. Gladio?"
"On it." Gladio slammed a hand on the table as he got up. It made Prompto startle and slightly shook all the food wrappers left after your especially unhealthy dinner on arcade food. "Come with us, shortcake."
Prompto's brows furrowed. "Uh, why?"
"You're the best man. Gods only know why." Gladio rolled a shoulder. "We've got a few things to go over now that everything's official."
"Okay." Prompto got up, looking at you with a near pout. You'd both planned to stay longer so you could play something together before walking to work. You sent him an encouraging smile. There would be other days and arcades and walks together to work.
What there wouldn't be another of, you were sure of it, was the cactuar plush. Shooting it a longing glance, you sighed.
"I guess this is where you tell me to behave while I'm at the wedding and all that?" You rose an eyebrow. "Have a big speech for me?"
Ignis looked at you almost blankly for a moment, then smiled. Genuinely, and bigger than he had when the others had just been around. "While I do hope you behave during the processions next month, I'm remaining behind because I have an hour or so to waste."
Your face lit up, chest becoming lighter at the news. He had time to waste, and he wanted to do it with you.
With a quick peek at the cactuar, you asked, "Can you dance?"
—
Ignis claimed he could dance, but you saw no proof because he refused to aid you in beating Dance Party Blast. Another visit to that same attendant, and they told you that the flowering cactuar was for beating that specific game because the machine itself spat out a certificate of perfection once you won. You needed the certificate to get the manager to open the glass case that held the cactuar. And no, they still wouldn't take your bribe.
So you spent most of the hour trying to find a game Ignis would actually play. It didn't matter what you chose because he was exceptionally bad at everything, apparently.
An embarrassed little blush stained his cheeks when he'd failed to beat you at a fighting game for a third time in a row.
"It's a miracle. I think I've found something you're actually bad at," you teased, jabbing him with an elbow.
He adjusted his glasses, hiding a smile. "Would you like a dessert?"
You grinned, walking with him to the concession area. "To soften the blow of humiliation?"
"To keep your mouth busy so I no longer have to hear you gloat."
Oh, wow, he was just handing it to you by saying that. You'd been itching to flirt with him again to get rid of the lingering strangeness that seemed to sit between you. "I could think of other ways to keep my mouth busy. How much time do you have left?"
He froze for a moment, shoulders tense. When an attendant took your order for a milkshake, he seemed to relax and pulled out his wallet to pay for it. That was nice. You made a mental note to pay him back later. They gave you two straws, and when you both took a seat at one of the smaller tables, his soft blush had returned.
"Prom would say we have double the sucking power," you said, pointing at the straws. You were choosing your words carefully, yet without tact. Maybe he'd let you get away with more than one flirt today since you hadn't flirted in so long. "I wish they'd given us a spoon, though. It looks pretty thick." You took a sip of it. "Wow, it is kinda hard to drink." Looking up at Ignis, you snorted softly at his disapproving expression. "What's got you so stiff?"
"Are you quite finished?"
"I'm referring to blowj—"
"I'm aware."
Enjoying the milkshake, you maintained a stare with him. His blush had gone, and he seemed more admonishing than flirty, and you kind of liked that about him.
Your phone chimed from your pocket, so muted that you'd almost missed it. You pushed the shake toward him while you dug it out to check. Probably Prompto complaining about Gladio picking on him. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he had a crush on the guy sometimes.
Unknown: see you at the viewing tomorrow ;)
You stared at the message. You knew the number. It had been burned into your mind. You thought you'd blocked it, but that had been a different phone. Before you changed numbers. Before you got a new phone entirely because he had found you last August. He'd ripped it from your hand, demanding to know who you had left him for —it was Prompto, wasn't it?! that little douchebag!— and you had run away when he threw the phone into the street. Right into traffic. He'd yelled, and you'd just kept running.
You'd run so far, but it never seemed to be far enough.
He must've gotten your number from someone on the team. A sting of betrayal bit at you over whoever could've done that. But that didn't matter now. It was too late. He had your number, which meant he could harass you anytime he wanted now.
"Is something wrong?"
Your head snapped up to Ignis who gave you a questioning glance. The flirty, light feeling you'd had before drained from you, replaced with tension.
"No, I'm fine." You couldn't tell him. He'd be the opposite of helpful. He'd want to tell the authorities, which you'd tried already. They wouldn't take abuse or stalker cases without ample proof first.
The corners of Ignis' mouth drew down, his eyes narrowing. "Why are you lying?"
You locked your phone, gripping it tightly in a hand. "It's none of your business."
"If something so terrible has happened that it causes you to stop making sexual jokes at my expense, I'd like to make it my business." His eyes searched your face. "Please, tell me."
Your phone beeped again, and he glanced down at it. With a small bit of hesitation, you silently read the new message.
Unknown: Im so sorry for what I said last week, I promise Ive changed
Gods, his opinion of you must've been so low if he thought you would ever buy this. With an irritated expression masking the underlying fear you felt, you looked at Ignis.
"He found my number."
Ignis' brows arched over his glasses. "Who?"
You shrugged, not wanting to say his name. "My ex boyfriend. I'll have to get a new number now." Another beep from your phone, then another. You didn't touch it, covering your face with your hands.
"May I?"
You peeked between your fingers, seeing Ignis hovering a hand over your phone. What good could come out of him reading the messages, you'd really like to know. Ignis wouldn't be helpful here, but you knew he'd at least be supportive. Like he'd been in Galdin.
"Knock yourself out," you mumbled, chewing on the inside of your cheek.
He picked up your phone, unlocking it without even asking for the passcode —wow, you'd have to be careful with passwords around him from now on— and scrolled through the messages. His expression grew more grim by the second.
You sighed. "Is he calling me a bitch or a cunt this time?"
Ignis didn't respond, pressing buttons on your phone before lifting it to his ear. You dropped your hands, confused.
"What are you doing?"
He lifted a finger, then spoke in a common Lucian accent that gave you pause. "Hello, why are you sending my daughter filthy messages? She is crying, and I demand to know why."
You watched him in wide eyed confusion as he began to drum his fingers on the tabletop, listening to someone speak loudly on the other end of the call.
"Who the hell is this, and how did you get her number?" He paused, then, "She's only twelve years old, you disgusting— I'm reporting this to the police."
Yelling could be heard from the phone, and he held it away from his ear for a moment. He met your eyes with a small smile, and you had absolutely no idea what was going on. Then, bringing the phone back, he said, "If you contact my daughter again, I'll hunt you down. I have a friend who works in the Citadel— He knows people."
Hanging up, he handed you the phone and cleared his throat. "That should buy you a small window of time to change numbers before he attempts to trouble you again."
You looked from the phone to his face. "What just happened?"
"I pretended to be an angry father whose young daughter was being harassed. It always works when Noct's personal number somehow gets into the wrong hands." He rolled a shrug over his shoulders. "It's the last bit that truly sells it. A false threat either scares them away or makes them believe they've truly gotten the wrong number."
His common accent had been impeccable, if a bit disturbing without warning. You stared at him for a moment. "Thanks for that." Even though it had been bizarre, and you hadn't asked for help.
He touched the milkshake glass but made no move to drink it. "I should come with you to whatever viewing he spoke of."
You were already shaking your head. "I'm not even going now. Not if he'll be there." You'd known he would be there. He'd been on your team, of course he'd go to the damn thing. Coexisting with such a scumbag was something you had really wanted to try, but he made it impossible.
This film had been the first one you'd poured yourself into in any serious capacity since the one that had been rejected by the Altissian Academy. You'd really hoped to see the finished outcome, if only to regain a little bit of confidence in your abilities. The committee holding the contest might send you a copy, if you asked.
Thoughts of all the things you had to do began to reel in your mind. Get a new number, let Prompto and Mom know about said change, talk to the committee about the thing, do the other thing, and—
All thoughts, the incessant buzzing in your mind, came to a halting silence when Ignis reached across the table to touch your hand. He'd been holding the milkshake glass so his hand was cold over yours.
"I'll escort you, should you wish to go." His expression was gentle. "What is the viewing of, may I ask?"
You slid your hand out from under his and put it in your lap. "It's nothing. I don't need an escort. Don't be weird."
He frowned, leaning back in his chair and retracting his hand. "What would be so weird about seeing a film with me?"
"That's not the weird part," you said, suppressing a sigh. "It's the part where you think I need to be escorted. Like I need protection."
He didn't suppress his sigh. "That man is unstable. It would do him good to see you with someone else. Might give him reason to leave you alone for good."
"Fuck that." You scoffed, anger building up within you. "I don't want him to leave me alone just because some other guy has staked claim over me. I feel gross enough already."
His expression eased slightly into worried confusion. "Gross?"
"Yes!" Taking a deep breath, you looked at him for several seconds. Calmer, you continued, "You'd feel gross, too, if you had someone like that lurking in your life."
He seemed perplexed by this. "Why won't you let me help you? You had no problem pretending I was your lover in your hometown market. How is this different?"
You drew in a quick breath, at the reminder of that time, at the comparison he wanted to make. "That was just me being dumb. I was having fun. There's nothing fun about dealing with this guy."
His fingertips rapped against the milkshake glass. He stared you down. "I don't understand you."
"You wouldn't," you bit at him. "Unlike you, I don't try to hide my real feelings behind a fake relationship."
He let out a light huff. "I suppose I should take a page from your book and tell Prompto my true feelings so he can unwittingly reveal it to everyone in a group message."
There it was. He was, all at once, acknowledging your crush and confirming that he'd been ignoring it. He looked at you with a frown, a gloved hand leaving the milkshake to curl on the tabletop.
"You fucking wish," you breathed, your stomach dropping painfully into a pit. "Prompto was only saying that to bother me."
"Yes." His tone was droll. It hurt. "I do so wish for the affections of a person who openly invites anyone to bed for any reason."
You glared at him, your own hands on the table curling into fists. "You didn't have a problem with it when I was sharing a bed with you."
He tilted his head just slightly, eyes searching yours. "Precisely my point. I'm merely a single name in a long list of lovers you don't give a damn about."
You grit your teeth. "You're such an asshole."
He glared back. "And you have no self respect."
Your gaze slowly went to your hands, fingernails digging into your palms. You loosened the fists and looked at the flecks of indentions in your skin. Then, with a hard glance at Ignis, you stood up and left the arcade.