AN: I suppose this can be a Valentine's Day gift XD So, enjoy~

Chapter 9:

Flavio was grateful when he was able to return to his room at the inn and flop onto bed. His shift at the restaurant was as busy as usual, by the week of birthday celebrations standards at least. What day was it? Oh, they should be halfway through the week now. Good. The week from hell was almost over. The birthday dinner party was their next biggest hurdle.

The dinner party…

A raging blush flashed across Flavio's cheeks and he covered his face with his hands, smothering a groan as he rolled onto his side.

He could not believe he did that. Something so…bold. Agree to wear, no, model a ball gown for Fafnir's eyes only? What was he thinking?! Well, that was the problem, wasn't it? He was not thinking. Fuelled by jealousy. Stupid jealousy.

Flavio pulled his hands from his face and stared up at the wall next to his bed. He remembered the look of sheer astonishment on Fafnir's face when he looked, no, stared at him. Eyes wide and mouth agape. He truly looked like a man who had just seen a sight so magnificent that to attempt to put it into words would only succeed in diminishing its beauty.

He did not seem to be acting…

B-but he was not going to do it again!

He certainly was not going to be wearing that thing Grisandole suggested afterwards. Some of those garments could not possibly be called dresses. Or clothing for that matter!

Strangely enough, directly after that Fafnir got a nose bleed and they had to cut their shopping trip short. Fortunately, Grisandole had his measurements. She apparently noted them when she was fitting him into that dress.

Flavio groaned as he rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face into his pillow. He was going to be cringing about his jealousy motivated decision for the next week, wasn't he?

Their suits and dresses for the dinner party would be ready on time, though they would also take a day or two for readjustments and alterations to the suit she had chosen for him for the occasion. Thankfully, she had kept to their end of the deal. Though, she just had to add that his would take the longest out of all of them.

He was not that skinny!

The floorboards just outside his room creaked.

A slow, all too ominous creak. A careful and deliberate footstep.

Flavio lifted his head from his pillow and looked over at the door as that becoming all-too common feeling of dread washed over him.

It was them.

It was definitely them.

Not again. Please, not again.

Flavio slowly rose from the bed, his eyes focused entirely on the door. It was locked. The walking cane was in place, acting as another deterrent. But was it enough? Enough for someone so determined?

What should he do?

It could not continue. He could not keep putting up with this. But what could he do? How many more rejections could his unwanted admirer take before they grew angry?

Flavio tensed as a shadow blocked the light at the bottom of his door. He had endured such a sight numerous times before, but it always made him flinch. Twitch in barely concealed fear.

He waited for a knock, for the attempt to test the doorhandle. To test the sturdiness of the lock.

Yet, the figure only stood there.

What…?

A strange sound accompanied a force so fierce that it rattled the sturdy wooden door. It was so suddenly, so forceful that Flavio jumped backwards half a foot and his heart leapt into his throat.

That…definitely was not a knock to gain his attention. That was something else. Did his all-too persistent admirer punch the door in frustration?

Whatever they did, they likely regretted their actions as they soon turned and hurried away. The footsteps definitely left, much to Flavio's relief. Though, there was a tinge of anxiety, too. He hoped that 'knock' did not arouse Fafnir from his room.

The beam of light under Flavio's door remained broken, however. Meaning that his unwanted guest left something behind. Just for him.

Flavio was fairly certain he knew what it was.

Man, he used to like flowers.

He needed to get them before someone else saw them.

Just as he had done several times before, Flavio carefully opened the door. His gaze was downwards, toward the floor in anticipation of yet another unwanted and unwarranted vase of flowers. But a shimmer of light from the corner of his eye quickly caught his attention and he immediately glanced over.

Flavio's eyes widened.

A knife.

A knife was embedded into the door of his room. Silver with a black leather handle. Etched into the otherwise unmarred, stainless blade was a name crudely scrawled. His name.

His world grew narrow as he focused in on that knife. It…could not be real, could it?

He raised a shaky hand toward the threatening weapon, mindlessly intent on pulling it from the wooden door, but he pulled himself back before his fingertips brushed against the handle. Should he even touch it? No, he had to. He could not leave it where it was. He could not afford to let Fafnir see it.

But he also did not want to touch it.

Thinking quickly, Flavio plunged a hand into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief he kept on him. He wrapped the small piece of cloth around the handle and hastily ripped it out of the door. It was wedged in tight, so whoever it was that stabbed it into the door did so with intent.

Lucky Flavio had locked the door. He did not want to even think about what could have happened if his…aggressive admirer made it inside his room.

As he stared down at the knife in his hand, he noted that there was another object lying at his feet. A sight he was growing to fear; a vase of flowers. Pretty pink ones, ironically. He was in no mind to determine which flowers they were. Not when his attention was focused on the knife that literally had his name on it.

A loud laugh from someone downstairs snapped Flavio from his trance and he snapped his head up. He did not have time to stand there like a statue. He needed to get back inside his room, with his…gifts. Before someone saw him. Saw everything.

Flavio snatched up the flowers and hastily dropped it upon the chest of drawers that was close by, while he kept a firm grip on the knife. As soon as he was inside, he hastily closed the door and locked it.

He paced into the centre of his room and began to walk around in circles, knife still in hand.

It had his name on it. Etched into the blade by another sharp implement. Another equally sharp knife. It would have taken time and patience. Not something done in a quick fit of anger.

But someone was angry.

And he had angered them by not accepting the flowers.

With shaky hands, Flavio wrapped the knife in the handkerchief. He could not bear to look at it a moment longer.

It was a threat. There was no doubt that it was a threat. But what, exactly, was it promising?

Flavio glanced over at the chest of drawers. At the pretty pink thing that sat atop of it. Maybe the flowers could offer a hint into the mindset into the one behind everything. A feeble attempt, probably. But he needed something.

Ensuring the knife was wrapped tightly within the handkerchief, Flavio placed it into the bottom drawer. With the rest of the…evidence.

Flavio approached the flowers slowly, as if they were a treacherous animal, carefully peering through the pink petals in search of the foreboding white card. And it was there, pressed in the middle of the green stems.

It was only as Flavio reached into the flowers that he realised that they were in fact pink roses. And the card was positioned so that he would injure his fingers as he attempted to retrieve it.

Malicious intent, no doubt about that.

'Accept the flowers.'

That was all that was written on the card. Three words. It was not a plea. It was not a request. It was not even a suggestion. It was a demand, leaving off a silent but ominous threat of violent repercussions if he did not comply.

Who…?

Who was sending the flowers? No, who was sending the threats? And why? Why were they so intent on him? What had he done to deserve any of this?

There was going to be an escalation in violence. The knife was just the start.

What should he do…?

A sharp knock at the door made Flavio jump a near foot in the air.

"Flavio?"

Fafnir's voice immediately drew a huge sigh of relief from Flavio and he felt the tension he had not realised he had been carrying in his shoulders release. It was amazing how Fafnir's voice and presence always brought a feeling of calm, no matter the situation.

But his anxiety soon retched up once more.

Crap, he needed to hide the flowers!

Where-? The bathroom!

Flavio snatched the vase off the chest of drawers and dashed into the bathroom. As silently as he could, he dropped the flowers into the bathtub, tossed in the card, and pulled across the shower curtain to hide it further. He sent out a silent prayer that Fafnir would not need to use the bathroom for any reason as he darted out.

"Hey, Faf," Flavio greeted, hoping to appear casual as he opened the door.

Fafnir stepped inside and turned to closed the door, immediately locking it. Always aware and mindful of Flavio's security. Ever since childhood. Flavio was not entirely sure when it started. In all honesty, it did not matter. Not when he needed that sense of protectiveness. Even if Fafnir did not know why he needed it.

"Are you all right?" Fafnir suddenly asked him, his hand gently brushing against Flavio's cheek, concern prominent in his voice and face. "You look pale."

Flavio's mind unwilling drifted toward the knife that was hidden in the bottom drawer of his desk. To the words etched upon the otherwise flawless silver blade. "I, ah, yeah. I'm fine."

He was now, at least. He felt better. He honestly did. Having Fafnir with him, he felt safer. He always did.

"Just exhausted from the restaurant," Flavio continued. "I can't wait for this week to be over."

"The dinner party is in a few days."

His next biggest hurdle. Flavio was not looking forward to it. He was a social person, to the regular, everyday guy. Not to those who are of the gentry, who were sure to be invited to the party.

He was going to be an anxious mess.

Fafnir reached up and gently curled a strand of Flavio's hair around his finger. "You know, you really did look beautiful in that dress."

Flavio's blush was fierce. "Are you making fun of me?"

"No. I mean it. You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?" Fafnir pulled back his hand, gently allowing the strand of Flavio's hair to slip through his fingers slowly. "Midnight blue really does look good on you."

Flavio stared back at Fafnir in return. Such a comment should have provoked feelings of embarrassment or indignity. It warranted a reaction where he bristled and shrilled in sheer mortification. It was a joke. Clearly, it was a joke.

But it was not a joke.

A compliment. A sincere statement, one he truly believed in.

"At the party, are you going to dance with Arianna?" Flavio blurted out; his question desperate.

"I don't want to," Fafnir replied quickly, reassuringly. "I don't want to give the wrong impression."

Flavio took a stumbling half-step forward. "Please don't. I wouldn't be able to stand seeing it."

"Hm." Fafnir tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, a small smile on his lips. "I'll just have to step on your feet instead."

That drew a small laugh from Flavio and he smiled. "I doubt we'll be allowed to dance together. But…we can both fumble our way through it, I suppose."

A bellowing laugh from someone out in the hallway startled the two of them, successfully and unfortunately breaking the reverie that the two had found themselves in. The two shared a brief look as they listened to the sounds of two, perhaps more, loud explorers as they rumbled up the hallway outside. Quite clearly drunk, but jolly all the same, as they staggered toward their rooms.

"Oh, um, I-I have something for you," Flavio said as he walked over to his desk and a picked up a medium sized sachet.

"Oh?"

Flavio turned and presented it to him, depositing it into Fafnir's open palm. "Yep. Don't let Regina know, though."

"What is it?"

"Chocolates."

Upon returning from their rather eventful shopping adventure, Flavio was immediately sent to the task of making chocolates once more. After what he had endured, he decided that he deserved a little treat. Him and Fafnir. So, he acquired a few pieces for them to enjoy later.

After all the hard work they had accomplished at the restaurant already, they deserved a little treat.

Fafnir smiled as he curled his fingers around the chocolates. He reached out with his other hand to takes Flavio by the wrist and tugged him toward the bed, where he promptly flopped down, pulling Flavio down with him. Of course, Flavio was not about to decline.

"Regina has no right to complain, after working us through the week from hell," Fafnir said, his back against the wall.

"I am done with the restaurant," Flavio said as he flopped down next to Fafnir, curling comfortably up against his side. "I don't want to talk about that. I want to talk about something else. About what we'll do. You know, after the dinner party. For Christmas. The two of us, I mean."

Fafnir rested the chocolates on his chest and picked one up. "Hm, good question. What do you want to do?"

"Well," Flavio watched as Fafnir popped the piece of chocolate into his mouth, anticipating his reaction. "I've heard all sorts of good things about the Christmases in Lagaard. I would like to experience them with you."

Fafnir's response was positive, to both the chocolatey treat and to Flavio's suggestion. "Yeah."

Flavio reached over and plucked up a piece of chocolate of his own. "That's right, I still need to get you a gift."

The corner of Fafnir's mouth twitched into a knowing half smile. "I'm still working on it."

Bemused but amused nevertheless, Flavio lightly thumped Fafnir on the chest. "Alright, continue to be mysterious."

Fafnir shifted to slip an arm around Flavio's shoulders, pulling him closer against his side, positioning him so that he could rest his head upon his chest. "It's my present to you, too."

Flavio took a moment to get himself comfortable, which was not difficult, being pressed against Fafnir's side. "Is it now?"

"What do you think of Lagaard?" Fafnir suddenly asked. A question that was honestly rather surprising.

"Hm? I quite like it. The people are friendly, hard-working, and eccentric. Though, ask me that question again when we deal with one of those notorious blizzards."

"Could this possible be a place you see yourself settling down in?"

That was another surprising question.

"Well…" Flavio idly brushed his thumb against the material of Fafnir's clothing pressed against his chest. "Depends."

"On what?"

Flavio lifted his head from Fafnir's chest and looked at him. Into his eye. "Whether you're there or not."

After Ginnungagap…

Fafnir curled his arm tighter around Flavio's shoulders, drawing him closer. "That's a given."

There was profound determination in Fafnir's voice. That steadfast stubbornness that could be both vexing and reassuring. At that moment, however, it was comforting.

"Then, yeah," Flavio said. "I could see myself settling down here."

With Fafnir by his side.

But…he could not. Not yet.

There was something he needed to deal with first.