AN: Let's face it, there's no way this doesn't come up at some point. Not with these two anyway :P Timeframe is kinda nebulous, but it takes place after Solitude and Solace but before All Good Things. And hey, under 1000 words again!

Dog-Eared

Generally speaking, Machias and Emma were rather diligent about staying on task during their joint study sessions. That being said…

"W-What do you mean you never use bookmarks?"

… well, no one was perfect.

"I don't see the need for them," Machias answered, shrugging as he turned his page over, apparently unbothered by the clear disapproval in her voice. "I can keep track of my progress just as easily by folding down a corner and I don't need to be concerned about a separate item that can be potentially lost. The advantages are self-evident, really."

She sighed, her palm coming to her cheek with a slow shake of her head. "I suppose I understand that logic, but… oh, dear. Those poor pages, getting all worn and creased before their time…"

He rolled his eyes. "If it's any consolation, I only do that with books that I own. Rest assured that you have nothing to fear should I ever borrow one of yours."

"That does ease my worries, though I still think you shouldn't be doing it at all." She frowned at him, her nose delicately scrunching at the very idea. "I'm surprised at you, Machias. I'd have thought you'd have wanted to keep them in better condition."

"It's not as if most of them were in excellent condition to start with. Didn't I ever tell you that the bulk of my collection either came from Heimdallr's used bins or from my parents?"

Judging by her sudden pause, it apparently hadn't come up. Machias had to admit, watching her expression gradually shift from mild indignation to reluctant understanding (after all, worn was worn) was a little more gratifying than it really should have been. Not that he'd ever let that particular tidbit slip, of course.

"No, never," she admitted, the censure in her voice having faded somewhat. "Knowing that does make it a little easier to bear. This makes me wonder, though – what do you do for tracking your progress in new books, then?"

He tried to hold his smirk back, he truly did.

"Memorize the page number, of course. Unlike some people, I don't need to rely on trinkets to keep my place."

Emma huffed and turned away at that, though not even her exaggerated theatrics could disguise the sparks of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Hmm. If you ask me, it sounds more like your renowned stubbornness at work more than anything else. I suppose this is just another habit I'll have to try and break you of, then."

"Feel free, though I'll remind you that you haven't exactly had a lot of success with your first attempt."

"I-I've gotten you to drink more tea!"

"Marginally. Meanwhile, my daily coffee intake remains unaffected."

"Well, that certainly explains the damage to your taste buds."

His attempt at an imperious glare was foiled before it could begin when he caught a glimpse of her biting her lip, and before long Emma's hands were covering her mouth in a vain attempt to stifle helpless giggles as Machias looked away, unable to keep a straight face himself.

He'd almost forgotten what it was like. It felt like just yesterday where it seemed like no one in Class VII would ever smile again, much less laugh.

"We've been reviewing for a little too long, haven't we?" Emma finally managed, her cheeks a healthy shade of pink.

"Normally I'd say something like that isn't possible, but in this case I'm forced to agree. Should we call it an evening for studying and head to Kirche's? It's getting late and neither of us have eaten, so…"

How he managed to say that without hesitation (or his trademark stammering) he'd never know, but the radiant smile she gave him in reply was enough to banish all thoughts of bookmarks from his head, replacing them with something far, far better.

"Hehe. I think that's a lovely idea."

It was perhaps no surprise that he'd eventually forgotten about that conversation, concerned as he'd been with other matters.

What was a surprise, however, was finding an envelope in his jacket pocket (adorned with his name in a flowing script he recognized on sight) informing him that she clearly had not.

"I hope you find the inclination to make good use of these, Machias. I'm not picky as to how."

She didn't bother with something as trite as 'see you again'. He was glad.

His gaze turned from the note to the two strips of artfully worn leather that had lain under it. One was decorated around its edges with crisscrossed forest green thread while the other showcased a vibrant purple, the slightly uneven stitching a telltale sign they were both handmade. Machias wasn't quite sure where she had gotten the tiny book-shaped charms that dangled from the tops of both, but he had to admit; they were a nice touch.

He shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning upwards, and somehow the weight of separation didn't seem quite so heavy anymore.

Amazing, that.

"Hmph. Awfully insistent, aren't we? Still, there's no denying that it'd be rude of me not to use them after you went through all this trouble…"