Title: Sunday afternoon naps
A/N: For Sanguine Songbird, I wanted to do a fluffy Annette/Lysithea piece. May the two workholics figure out a life/work balance.
Summary: Annette liked lazy Sunday afternoons. In the warm sunlight, drowsiness refused to let her do anything but rest. Unfortunately, Lysithea didn't seem to understand the word 'relax'.
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There was something inherently relaxing about Sunday afternoons. Lying on a couch, book in hand, warm sunlight washing over Annette and dragging her into a drowsy, half-awake state; no matter what anyone said, there was absolutely nothing better than that.
"Maybe we should try imbuing the objects with elemental magic," Lysithea mumbled under her breath as she flipped through her research notes.
Well, correction. There was one thing better than that: the days Lysithea finally allowed herself to relax and they both lay on the same side of the couch, curled into each other as they drifted away. Instead, they were sitting on opposite sides, their legs intertwined as they went over boring research notes. Annette huffed, blowing a stray lock out of her face as she eyed her workaholic girlfriend. Even without her secondary crest, she'd have gotten that white hair early if only because of all the work she did.
Annette poked Lysithea's thigh with her toe. Her pink eyes blinked owlishly as she looked up. "Yes?"
Let's take a break. Despite thinking those words for the past half hour, Annette instead asked, "Did you try using music like I told you?"
In all honesty, she was probably just as bad, if not worse, than her girlfriend. After all, she had a notebook in her hands as well, crammed to the margins with research ideas and avenues for magic. It was little wonder their mentor Hanneman even had any work to do, between the two of them.
"Of course not," Lysithea scoffed, rolling her eyes as she always did whenever Annette suggested something creative and god forbid fun. "What do you want me to do, bring Dorothea in and ask her to sing to a plow? It's ridiculous."
"What's ridiculous is that you don't think we can use art to guide magic," Annette argued back, chasing the sparks in Lysithea's eyes. There was just something about their fiery debates that thrilled her to her core, like they'd pushed each other to a cliff and were daring the other to jump. "We already know that it can have a healing influence, why not other ones?"
"It only has that effect on people, not objects," Lysithea pointed out correctly, raising a brow. She leaned closer, her notes forgotten now as they ran down a well-worn path. Her long hair was mostly tied up, to keep it out of her reading, but, as they argued, a few strands escaped her scrunchie. "Objects can't hear, can't feel—music can't change them on a fundamental level."
"It doesn't have to! Besides, you haven't tried." Annette crossed her arms and raised her brow, challenging her. "We might have to modify the notes or maybe even create a brand-new style. That's what trials are for."
"Or we could instead investigate the dragons and their connections to crests." Lysithea scrunched her nose as she always did whenever she talked about crests. It didn't matter that she researched them on a daily basis; the reaction was instinctual. Annette found it adorable. "If they're capable of adding elemental magic that way—"
"They also refuse to talk to us." Annette leaned in closer, smirking. It was the one wall in Lysithea's research, the one thing that could convince her to follow Annette's advice for once.
"That's…" Lysithea pouted. She made the same expression whenever Annette ate the last cake slice. "I'm working on it…"
"Then try out my idea in the meantime." Annette leaned closer, giving the full kicked puppy look as she pleaded. "Please?"
For all of her gruff stubbornness, Lysithea had a number of weaknesses and Annette had memorized all of them. Reluctantly, she nodded. "Fine. But only until I get mine started."
"Perfect." Annette leaned forward, pecking her on the lips. Lysithea blushed a bright red; she was certain her own face looked the same. Mercedes had teased them mercilessly for this whenever she caught them. "Thanks!"
"N-no problem." Still flushed, Lysithea leaned back onto her seat and picked up her notes to hide her face. "It won't work."
Satisfied, she sat back too and shrugged. "We'll see about that."
Once more, a silence descended on the room. The sun beat in through the floor length windows, warming Annette's skin. Paper rustled softly, Lysithea muttering something under her breath, and Annette almost wanted to make a ditty out of it.
"The sun makes me so drowsy,
and dull ol' paperwork feels lousy.
The sun's not helping any—"
Lysithea looked up, amused. "Annette?"
Sheepishly, she rubbed her neck. "Could we sit on the same side?"
Recognizing the code for what it was, Lysithea rolled her eyes. "This is why we get nothing done." Even as she said that, she still put her notes down, shifting to the side to let Annette squeeze in beside her. "But not for long, okay?"
"Sure, sure." Annette beamed, scrambling to her side. "Just for a little." She curled up beside Lysithea, resting her head on her chest.
"We can go back to work after." Lysithea mumbled, wrapping an arm around Annette.
"Mmm-mmm," she hummed, her eyes already drifting shut.
