Jervis Tetch paced nervously down the narrow aisles of a quaint, dimly lit antique shop nestled between towering brick buildings. His mind raced as he scanned the shelves, his eyes darting over teacups, silverware, and odd trinkets that had no business being in such a place. But his mission was clear: find the perfect gift for Jonathan.
Jonathan Crane wasn't the easiest person to shop for. Jervis had learned that over the years. His boyfriend, after all, wasn't one to indulge in simple pleasures. Books on psychology, research notes, and the occasional morbid fascination with the human mind—those were Jonathan's typical areas of interest. But Jervis wanted to give him something different this time, something special, something personal.
He stopped in front of an old wooden cabinet, the faded glass revealing the contents within. A curious grin crept across Jervis's lips as his eyes fixed on a small, ornate music box. Its delicate gold inlay shimmered faintly under the store's flickering lights, and the intricate carvings on the lid seemed to tell a story, though what kind was left to interpretation. He carefully opened it, and a soft, haunting melody filled the air. It wasn't cheerful; it was melancholic, mysterious—just the kind of tune Jonathan might appreciate.
"This is it," Jervis whispered to himself, his heart quickening with excitement. He could imagine Jonathan sitting in his study, the music from this box playing faintly in the background as he scribbled down his latest theories on fear. The thought filled Jervis with a warm sense of satisfaction.
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a few crumpled bills, and approached the old shopkeeper, who eyed him curiously but didn't say a word. After the exchange, Jervis hurried out into the cold evening air, clutching the gift tightly in his gloved hands.
The walk back to their shared apartment was brisk, but Jervis hardly noticed the chill. His mind wandered to how Jonathan would react. Would he smile? Laugh? Maybe even be a little surprised? Jervis had learned to appreciate the small moments with Jonathan—his subtle gestures, the soft way his eyes would light up when he was pleased. It was in those fleeting moments that Jervis found his joy.
Finally, he reached their door. With a deep breath, he pushed it open and stepped inside, greeted by the familiar scent of old books and leather-bound volumes. Jonathan sat at his desk, hunched over a pile of papers, completely absorbed in his work.
Jervis hesitated for a moment before approaching, then gently cleared his throat. "Jonathan," he said softly, his voice trembling just slightly. "I have something for you."
Jonathan looked up, his brow furrowed in mild curiosity. "A gift?" he asked, his voice as clinical as ever but with a hint of intrigue.
Jervis nodded and handed him the carefully wrapped music box. Jonathan took it, his slender fingers deftly removing the paper with care. His eyes fell upon the ornate box, and for a brief moment, Jervis saw a flicker of something in Jonathan's expression—something soft, something appreciative.
He opened the lid, and the haunting melody filled the room. Jonathan's eyes closed for a moment, and a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"This... is quite thoughtful, Jervis," Jonathan murmured, his voice unusually gentle. "It suits me."
Jervis beamed, his heart swelling with pride. "I thought it might remind you of… well, us. Complex, a little haunting, but beautiful in its own way."
Jonathan's eyes met Jervis's, and for a moment, the cold, analytical mask Jonathan usually wore seemed to melt away. In its place was something real, something vulnerable.
"Thank you," Jonathan said quietly. It wasn't a grand declaration of love, but coming from Jonathan, it was everything Jervis needed to hear.
Jervis leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Jonathan's temple. "Happy early anniversary," he whispered.
And for that evening, the music from the small box played on, its melody weaving through the air, binding them together in their strange, beautiful world.
...
After Jonathan set the music box aside, its haunting melody still softly playing, Jervis took a step back, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
"There's more," he said in a sing-song tone, his fingers lightly brushing Jonathan's hand before disappearing into the kitchen.
Jonathan raised an eyebrow, intrigued but also amused. He wasn't used to Jervis going to such elaborate lengths for a simple evening at home, but tonight seemed different—Jervis had clearly planned something special.
A few moments later, the smell of rosemary and garlic filled the room as Jervis returned, carrying a tray with two plates of perfectly seared steak, roasted vegetables, and a bottle of red wine. The warm candlelight on the small dining table flickered gently, casting soft shadows across the walls.
"Dinner, prepared by yours truly," Jervis announced with a flourish, setting the plates down. "I know you've had a long day, and I thought it might be nice for us to… unwind a bit."
Jonathan stood, the weight of the day's work still heavy on his mind, but the sight of Jervis so excited, so eager, melted something inside him. He had a reputation for being cold and distant, but Jervis always managed to see through it. He always made an effort.
"You didn't have to go through all this trouble," Jonathan murmured, but there was an undeniable warmth in his voice, the closest he came to showing genuine affection.
Jervis gave a soft chuckle, his eyes twinkling as he poured the wine and took his seat across from Jonathan. "For you? It's no trouble at all. Besides," he added, leaning forward slightly, "I enjoy spoiling you now and then."
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the sounds of cutlery against porcelain and the faint music from the box the only noise. But it wasn't awkward—it never was with Jervis. There was something peaceful about their quiet moments together. Jervis would always find a way to fill the silence with his energy, whether through a well-timed joke or the quiet sound of his laughter. Jonathan, meanwhile, found himself unwinding in ways he never thought possible.
"This is quite good, Jervis," Jonathan remarked after a few bites, his analytical gaze momentarily shifting from the food to his partner. "I assume you've been practicing?"
Jervis grinned, pride filling his chest. "I wanted to surprise you. And you know how I am with surprises—couldn't resist."
Jonathan's lips twitched into a small, rare smile. "It's working."
The meal continued, the soft hum of the music box still playing in the background, creating an atmosphere of intimacy. Jervis reached across the table, his fingers brushing against Jonathan's, and they sat in companionable silence once more, the connection between them needing no words.
As the night wore on and the food was finished, Jervis rose to clear the table. But Jonathan stood, stopping him gently with a hand on his arm.
"Leave it," Jonathan said quietly, his gaze softer than usual. "We can deal with it later."
Jervis blinked in surprise, but then nodded, his heart skipping a beat. Jonathan was never one to indulge in the moment like this, and it felt… different. Special.
Together, they made their way to the living room, where the music box's tune continued to play, now mingling with the crackling of a small fire Jervis had lit earlier in the evening. The room was warm, cozy, and filled with a quiet, shared peace.
Jonathan sat down on the couch, and Jervis joined him, nestling close. Jonathan's arm found its way around Jervis's shoulders, pulling him in as they both sank into the soft cushions. They didn't speak much, but Jervis didn't mind. Just being here, feeling Jonathan's warmth beside him, was enough.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Jervis broke the quiet with a gentle whisper. "Do you ever think about how far we've come?"
Jonathan's eyes flickered toward him, his expression thoughtful. "More often than you might think," he replied. His voice was low, his guard momentarily down. "I'm not… accustomed to this sort of thing, Jervis. But I'm glad we have it."
Jervis's heart swelled. He knew Jonathan wasn't one for grand declarations of love, but in his own quiet way, Jonathan always showed how much he cared. It was in the small gestures, the lingering looks, and the way he allowed Jervis into his carefully guarded world.
"I'm glad too," Jervis whispered, resting his head against Jonathan's chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling him into a sense of calm.
Jonathan ran a hand through Jervis's hair, a rare tenderness in his touch. "You always know how to surprise me."
Jervis chuckled softly, tilting his head up to meet Jonathan's gaze. "That's because you're worth the effort."
They sat like that for what felt like hours, the fire crackling, the music softly playing, and the world outside their door fading into the background. In these stolen moments, everything felt right, even in their strange, dark world.
Jonathan pressed a soft kiss to Jervis's forehead, and in that simple, quiet act, Jervis knew that no matter what else happened, they had this—this love, this warmth, this moment. And for them, that was enough.