Unique Kisses: Rollo, Che'nya, Neige

Unique Kisses: Rollo, Che'nya, Neige

Heartslabyul || Savanaclaw || Octavinelle || Scarabia || Pomefiore || Ignihyde || Diasomnia || Rollo, Che'nya, Neige || Honest Fellow

Rollo F. (no kisses)

“May I have a kiss, please? A kind word? Any form of attention?”

“Rather not.” 

Rollo does not lift his gaze from his book. He sits too far away for you to read the title — you're separated by the whole length of the coffee table on which the service with the steaming tea stands — but you wouldn't be surprised if he was reading something religious.

You have no desire to return to the Victorian romance, a heavy volume that spreads across your lap. Yet, there are twenty-five minutes left until the end of your reading hour, a meeting you arrange every day because books are cool. You feel like you will die of boredom in three.

Maybe not from boredom, but because of something that makes you unable to focus on the present moment. You feel bad about tearing your lover away from his reading, but finally, with a heavy heart, you get up, walk around the table and sit next to him.

Your thighs touch and you let your head fall against Rollo's warm shoulder.

Immediately, you feel a little better.

“What are you doing?” Rollo doesn't seem to share your enthusiasm. He tilts his head so he can measure you with his eyes. If you looked at him even briefly, you would notice that his eyebrows have dropped slightly in an expression of concern, and his gaze has become investigative, piercing.

You sigh slightly in response, too listless to lift your eyelids, and unwittingly play with the soft tassels of his outfit.

“Please, let's do something else. The weather is so nice today...!” Your plea resembles the lament of a preschooler, especially when you bury your face in his shoulder. By that, some tension from Rollo escapes. He takes his eyes off you.

“I'd rather finish the book.”

“Then at least let me stay here, by your side. I feel extremely lonely today.”

You squeeze even more into his shoulder, warming yourself a little. His rochet-styled uniform wears the distinctive scent of incense, honey and disappointment, a perfume that is even more charming in a room that smells of tea and books. You let yourself inhale it until Rollo puts his hand on your head.

And now, you are distracted.

“Did something happen today?” He asks in a quiet, noticeably caring voice. You often hear a similar tone at night when you two return from evening prayer — whether you go there for God or for him — and Rollo is more inclined to care about everyone. Now all his attention is on you. You are a tad too intimidated and tired to respond. You only shake your head. “Well. Then let's go for a walk.”

That instantly enlivens you.

“Re... Really? You're not joking?!” You need confirmation because Rollo Flamm seldom changes his plans. You've already spent so much time with him that you can't imagine him missing a lesson for no more important reason than a bad morning attitude. And you considered yourself to be a rather imaginative person.

“You should already be aware of my lack of humour.”

You are. The little threads of romance in his body must have awakened, and you feel almost guilty for labelling him as the stiffest student in NBC. And since Rollo is being so gracious today...

“Then, can we hold hands?”

Your question throws him off balance, and you are ready to call off your request when he suddenly starts correcting the folds of his outfit to distract you and focus on staying carefree.

“...I apologize, but I might need some more time. I need to get accustomed to all that… romantic...” He starts, but then you grab his hand. The words of protest die on his tongue. He swallows the remnants of them as he grunts. “Alright. At least you won't get lost.”

(...No kissing before the wedding, though). /hj

Che'nya (insufficient kisses)

“Strawberry.”

“No.”

“Raspberry then.”

“Also no. But you're almost there.”

Che'nya presses his lips to yours for the eighth time, and you cover the label of the drink you're holding in your hands even more tightly.

Your boyfriend has decided he can guess the taste of the orangeade you're drinking. You think he knew exactly what you were drinking from the third kiss: you shared a favourite range of fizzy drinks, and there was never any indication that you intended to change it. Che'nya would have forced you to convert back if such a thing ever happened.

“Hm~” Your boyfriend hums under his breath as he moves away from your face. When you look at him unmoved, he smiles broadly. “Cher- Chestnut”.

“Duh, you already know the answer.”

“So it's a Cherchestnut?”

You sigh, and Che'nya’s smile spreads even further across his face. His white teeth flash softly as if he hasn't eaten the entire basket of cakes you baked for him and his friends' first thing in the morning.

“Now you're just being mean,” you cross your arms to have Che'nya feel accused. He leans back in his seat, and his smile does not disappear from his face.

“Am I?”

“Aren't you?”

“If I were so sweetened by your presence that my senses were going mad, would my mistakes be ‘mean’ too?” When he says this, he sits up straight and leans beside you. He takes two steps onto the bench and sinks down into your lap, facing up — and by that — facing you.

He reaches out to touch the locks of your hair falling towards him.

“Are you a madman yet?” You ask, leaning towards him with your lips pressed together in a line.

“Am I? Or am I not? Who are we all anyway?”

“I know you're an annoying boyfriend. I don't like you from now on. Oh from now on, I don't like you,” you snap your fingers, and Che'nya smiles broadly. You try to push him off your lap, but he gracefully turns before you manage to do so and then wraps his arms tightly around you.

“My love will cover the two of us,” here he places his hands on both your cheeks and kisses the corner of your mouth. You try to swat him, but then he starts to disappear. His lips and words remain last with you. “But now it is time to withdraw. I feel a strong antagonism towards me here, and I shall take my leave.”

Neige L. (the most common in a world of uncommon kisses)

Neige loves kisses.

For this reason, you find it hard to believe that he can't write a few sentences about them on his Magicam. You don't know how to prove it, though, because Neige has photos — beautiful footage from a recent photo shoot revolving around the theme of picnic and spring — that he needed to publish soon. They were now lingering in his gallery on his phone, waiting for Neige’s inspiration to strike.

“If I wasn't here, would you also have such a problem with a short description?” Your question sounded like an insincere accusation, to which Neige replied with a smile.

He had long since put his phone away in his bag. He always put it away when he wanted to give you one hundred per cent of his attention, but the subject of the photo kept hovering over the two of you because your boyfriend said he needed inspiration.

Every inspiration follows experience.

You're ready to help him any time, but not joshing with him first.

“I wouldn't write about them then. I would come up with something about spring or beauty...” He says, peering out of the wide window of his room. The view is lovely, full of greenery. Spring is coming. “But now that I have you, I can write about something as beautiful as love.”

“...Poser.”

Although that's the title you hail him with, Neige no longer responds. He cannot divide his attention, and what occupies him now is you, your face, your beautiful sparkling eyes, the shape of your ears, the lobes of which he runs his fingers over until they reach your jawline. There they stop as his attention shifts again: to your lips, the soft, smooth lips that he loves to kiss so much. And he kisses them, and everything around him loses meaning.

...

“How did it feel?” He asks, pulling you back onto the sofa. You sigh lightly.

“Is that survey to create an ideal description for the photo?”

“That's for me too. For contemplation.”

Neige looks at you with anticipation. When he sees that you need to think, he takes his eyes off you and pours fruit tea into the two cups in front of you, on the coffee table bordering a sofa.

“I don't know how to describe them. Either way, it's your job to think of something, so don't dump it on me,” you finally state, picking up the cup you've been given. You take a sip and decide to deflect the question. “And how do you feel, Neige?”

“Indescribably,” he says as he can't describe it either. Neige puts his hand over his heart and when he looks you straight in the eye, you are perfectly able to pinpoint why his fans love him so much - he looks princely. Neige sighs quietly. “I think I'm going to have to go with this spring because I don't know how to describe all the things that are bubbling up in my chest. I'll have to think about it longer.”

You pat him on the shoulder.

“Good luck with that. If you don't come up with any ideas, I can link you some fanfictions with nice descriptions.”

“Thank you, they will come in handy.”

“...They can be works with you, right?”

“...Ah.”

Unique Kisses: Octavinelle!

Heartslabyul || Savanaclaw || Octavinelle || Scarabia || Pomefiore || Ignihyde || Diasomnia || Rollo, Che'nya, Neige || Honest Fellow

Azul A. (butterfly kisses)

„That's a very unfair deal,” you mutter, wrapping yourself more around Azul's arm. You are stopping him from writing down your potential contract and he is remarkably eager to delay everything when you are trying to persuade him so hard, despite the pen in his hand. “All I ask is that you quiz me before the test. Does it require such a formal agreement?”

Azul's chair cracks softly as he straightens up. You don't loosen your grip, but you are sure that if Azul ever wanted to, he could manage to get out of your arms. Apparently, he doesn't want to—or he doesn't care or mind—and with this small gesture, he is making you hope.

“Everything has a price,” he says before you can come up with something like 'good deeds of a good boyfriend' to throw at him. “You already get a discount because of our relationship... And another fifteen per cent for those kisses, which are also a form of contract, [Name].”

...And maybe that is the reason why he doesn't want you to leave. The kisses are the only ones of their kind, something Azul would always want to get for helping you. When you press your lips to his neck or the corners of his mouth, that touch always makes him feel that it's still insufficient. It is only a foretaste and Azul feels as if a ghost has fallen in love with him, but worse because this one is lovely and warm and has already learned to tease Azul with its pranks.

“What if there was more?” Another kiss lands on his cheek, which has acquired a bit of colour over the past several minutes. Azul doesn't flinch, even when you deliberately delay moving away from him. “Can you manage to bring it down by a hundred per cent? I'm poor this month.”

Azul sighs, and the air escapes his lungs completely.

He is losing the façade of the carefree businessman, an act he started putting up since he knew what are you up to.

“Their value decreases with each use,” he says, shaking his head. He adds: “ There would have to be a thousand of them.”

“Better to start sooner than later, no?” You smile. “Come on... I'll pay my debt.”

Another three kisses come by. One—at his temple, near the grey eyes that glitter in the elegant lighting in Azul's study—and another—at the corner of his mouth, which trembles—and a third, almost on his lower lip. All these points suddenly seem to burn on Azul's skin and he has to restrain from touching them.

Your next kiss has been already blocked by Azul's gloved hand, as he presses his index finger to your lips. You look at him with surprise, and although his face turns even redder, he manages to utter his next sentence without his voice breaking down.

“Do you think it will be so easy to bribe me?”

You smile even wider.

“Yes,” you embrace his face with your hands. His skin is soft and kind of warm, but you are sure he is melting as much as you are just by that touch. “Because something like that would definitely work for me.”

Jade L. (stopping kisses)

“Hello!” Your smile makes you stand out very much from the crowd of other passing students, even more so than the hands you raise to wave to your boyfriend. You shine with your charm and Jade wonders why no one else notices that brightness. “And bye-bye!”

He smiles amiably, watching you disappear around the next corner. Another ringing of the bell fills the school corridors and Jade decides it's time to hurry to his classroom. On the way he passes Floyd, throwing him a quick smile. Then, he starts to wonder what the next lesson is going to be. Or whether it will be more important than Monstro Lounge duties. Or mushrooms.

Probably not. But he is going to pay attention anyway.

This is what all your mornings would be like until Jade decided to put some more effort into it. Dramatic effects, one could say.

“He-”

...?

Your greeting is muffled when Jade grabs you gently by the collar of your uniform and, in a fluid but powerful motion pulls you closer.

You bump into him, and he enhances the accident; he leans in, lifts your chin and kisses you.

You feel his hand going down your back and stopping at your waist, but the centre of your attention gravitates toward his other hand, which roams and teases your skin near your neck, leaving such a gentle touch. Under Jade's fingers, you shiver.

Then, his lips claim yours.

…

Red isn't Jade's favourite colour, but he likes some of its shades on you.

Red skin at the corner of your mouth, crimson blushes all over your face and scarlet lips decorated with glossy cosmetics.

Jade moves away. He smiles his everyday smile and it pains you so much that he is so quick to recover after something that knocked you completely out of balance.

“Could I have a change of greeting, please?” He asks, intertwining your fingers with his. He pulls a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, which he leaned into. “The sight of you is always lovely, of course, but I feel a little distant when we pass each other so quickly in the corridor...”

…

You are still in the corridor.

You are reminded of that when some random student whistles in your direction. Jade smiles mockingly at the student, who could have been a phantom, quickly disappearing into a crowd with an equally mischievous grin.

“Yes... Yes,” you answer. You put your hand to your chest and rest your head against Jade's chest. His heartbeat isn't as fast as yours, and you confirm it once more Jade puts his arms around you. “Wait, give me a minute. My heart's about to jump out...”

The cruel man laughs warmly.

“Hm. You'll have to get used to a different pace of living, don't you think?”

Floyd L. (stolen kisses)

“I'm hungry, Floyd,” you knock his hand off, and it once again began to wander over your shoulder. “Let me eat my breakfast, please.”

“Awh...!”

Floyd whines. His wordless lament is filled with clear disappointment and stubbornness. You don't believe that only eight attempts to push him away is going to change anything though—Floyd Leech hasn't even considered leaving you alone, still sitting next to you.

You wouldn't have used such a method if his company didn't equate to an inability to eat anything during the meal break; either your food was the one vanishing or it was you, disappearing from a canteen, while dragged behind your favourite, but a little overbearing sea boy.

You shift your attention to your plate again. You haven't managed to get any school-legendary sandwiches, but you had got your hands on some fruits and crackers, and Floyd (graciously) has shared with you some of the jam he had taken himself. You promised him you'd spend the whole afternoon with him in exchange for it, but apparently, it still isn't enough.

Or he just likes annoying you.

You grab the first cracker, and it isn't until you bite into it that you realize how hungry you are. You thought that skipping last night's dinner was a good idea, but the quiet (loud, in your ears) rumbling of your stomach for the first few hours of the class made you rethink your choices.

You reach for another handful of crackers, biting into them along with a cut piece of an apple.

Floyd watches you in surprising silence until you eat half of the food you have.

Your hand, along with the cracker you've been about to put in your mouth, meets a wall in the shape of Floyd's head. His face is right in front of yours, a wide smile on it, even though you had almost crushed the cracker on his cheek.

Whenever Floyd kisses you, you are aware of the unusual facial proportions, not ordinary between humans, but more common in sea creatures. His tongue is long and his teeth sharp. His lips are slippery, but that is more due to the sweet soda he drank earlier because you sense the vivid taste of oranges in his kiss.

Oranges...

Ah, now you remember. You are supposed to have breakfast. 

You scold yourself for being distracted. Floyd may have an uncanny ability to monopolize your attention, but you still want to believe that in your relationship, both of you have equally similar power.

Floyd doesn't let you move away—the hands on your back and shoulder are there to prevent that—but you manage to turn your head just enough to catch your breath and try to push yourself away from him. Floyd is very fond of sabotaging you with his lung capacity, using every opportunity to take your breath away, but right now you are too focused on the clock, which shows that the break will be over in seven minutes.

“Not now!” You would have apologized to him for your dryness, has it not been for the fact that he started it, is now starving you, and is still smiling with amusement. You snort, clasping your hands over the fruit on your table. “I must have energy for our afternoon. And if these breaks don't convince you, give me a pass or food vouchers to Monstro Longue and I promise to comply.”

A short announcement of a tiny surprise! Within a few weeks, I will post seven, each for a dormitory, fluffy works (not related to the "How to win a heart of..." series). Every NRC Twisted Wonderland boy will be there, so don't worry! I've written all scenarios by now, but I am in the middle of correcting and translating them. I hope it will be a heartwarming reading for you all! (Hearslabyul scenarios will be released in a short while... Savanaclaw scenarios are under correction...)

Unique Kisses: Scarabia!

Heartslabyul || Savanaclaw || Octavinelle || Scarabia || Pomefiore || Ignihyde || Diasomnia || Rollo, Che'nya, Neige || Honest Fellow

Kalim A. A. (shut-up kisses)

You lost the thread ten minutes ago.

You are on the decorative veranda of the Scarabia. You occupy large pillows with hand-embroidered floral embroidery. In front of you is a tray with refreshing, sour drinks and plates of sliced fruit prepared by Jamil. Kalim scarcely touched them, for his story takes all his attention.

There is a chessboard with pawns on it. You were supposed to play another game with Kalim, but he had made his last move a good ten minutes ago. You want to finish this round. You are winning, but to beat your boyfriend again in this game you need his attention. And return his focus to very, very good placement of your pawns.

It is hard to stop him from talking. Kalim is too excited about today's event for you to easily shift the conversation to your board game.

You love listening to him chatter. He has an emphatic and effusive voice and describes everyday life with a happy, optimistic perspective.

Aside from his stubbornly focused attention on the conversation, the problem is that Kalim keeps changing the subject. His sentences are clusters of basic slogans, quotes, and exclamations, and that's...

Well, you'd like to learn how to read minds just to be more involved in his story.

When you try to get his attention, he apologizes and paraphrases the last part of his speech in no better form. After two sentences, he forgets about your note. The beam on his face makes you only nod at him as he gloats about the next part of his story.

“Kalim…”

“I didn't know what he was going to say then. But then he surprised me. Because, you know, they say that Octavinelle students are very hard to deal with, but that one seemed nice! I met him... when? Oh, I remember! Because the day before, Jamil and I went to get a cake on their new menu! It was wonderful! We can go there tonight so you can try it too. It tasted very much like the shortcake Jamil had prepared... like, two weeks ago, maybe?”

“Kalim.”

“Oh, I'm sorry! Back to the topic. After that meeting, I mean, the next day, when I asked Mr Crewell for help on this project, we went to the library to learn about this effect... what was the name...? De... De... Dea...? I don't remember! Ah! And on the way to the library, we met Rook, who-”

“Kalim.”

“Yes? Just listen to what he told me! He-”

You bite your cheek to keep yourself from sighing. If you want to finish your game, you must get his attention the other way.

You reached him, needing to come closer on two pillows. You touch his shoulder, and he pauses for one second. It takes two more before you press your lips to his. You can almost feel the words die on his tongue as he gasps softly.

He wants to say something. He opens his mouth, but you are the one in control. You silence him again by moving closer to him to occupy him with a kiss.

It only lasts three seconds.

Kalim lost the thread.

You drift away from him. And just before you is a rare sight of a wordless Kalim. A cheery smile slowly spreads across his face.

You tap the chessboard, and for the first time in an hour, you're sure that Kalim's attention is solely on you.

“Let's finish this round first, okay?”

Jamil V. (movie-like kisses)

“It's a truly beautiful sunset…”

The sky is already orange, with shades of red - and finally warm navy blue – that are beginning to appear in the further stripes of clouds. The colourful ombre of the sky pleased not only artists but also passers-by…

“There's no one here but us…”

…Two passers-by. Jamil tried to create such an atmosphere by putting Kalim in the hands of his family. As expected, he immediately suggested that Jamil should take a vacation, because the next party was being held in his large house and created for Al-Asim's closest family.

When Jamil knew he will be free for at least one night, he decided to go somewhere with you. One of the choices was the beach you are currently on, which you have strolled around for almost all day.

Time flies when talking to a loved one.

“The sea is heaving in the wind...” you add, squeezing his hand a little more. You feel Jamil's grip on your fingers tighten in response. You take a deep breath, taking in a lot of sea air in your lungs. "It seems too good to be true. Should we suspect that Floyd is about to jump out of the water or...?”

Jamil shakes his head. His other hand touches your cheek, and the tips of his fingers draw subtle, invisible marks on your skin. "Don't think about it. Focus on me. On us.”

He doesn't need to use hypnosis, and his wish gets granted anyway.

It was hard to think about that when his gaze and the way he covers your mouth are filled with attention and greed.

The purpose of this whole spectacle of emotions, which rage even more as his hand slowly trails down your back, is to make you want to take another step. And to make sure that he is in control and that he doesn't even need to use his magic on you. If you were hypnotized, you wouldn't know what command he uttered, but now you are fully aware of his every move. You don't even have the willpower to prevent it.

So you give in to it, even though you tell yourself that next time you will be the one in control of that kiss. You don't like the wicked smile on Jamil's face as you gas for air.

The Prince Charming's spell breaks as the corners of his mouth twist mischievously, though, in a few minutes, Jamil will still be playing nice guy when you will walk across the beach again... No, he won't be playing—he will put into the moment everything that he can give himself.

“Ach, weren't going to take pictures of the horizon?” Jamil asks and you wonder how he could change his tone of voice to this... normal tone, in seconds. You narrow your eyes at him. "Why are you looking at me like that? Should I help you take it? Your hands seem a little shaky... Ah, or would you rather admit that I've thrown you off balance, hm?”

Rollo Flamm x Reader || Rhythm

Warnings: Understated jealousy (?), Reader can’t dance (wants to, though), provisioning of unrequired love, female reader.

The girl that dances atop the stage is really pretty.

It’s not you, and with some kind of regret, you concede you’ve never properly learned to dance.

The girl is more beautiful than the starry night above the City of Flowers because she feels like a dream. Stars will be tomorrow too, but her? No one knows, so all eyes are on her, to balm each’s heart with her sight.

Her steps are graceful and the way she moves is enchanting. It’s not an easy choreography either - with so many jumps and twirls and turns - but she makes it seem so because a smile never leaves her face. The fabric of her dress follows her faithfully, and you imagine she will look incredible in every photo taken of her.

“She’s so… beautiful,” someone next to you breathes with awe.

You believe Rollo thinks so too.

Even if the thought of never being looked on like that stings, you can only blame yourself as he didn’t want to come here at all. When you suggested checking out the show that is being held in a Topsy-Turvy Event Hall, Rollo scolded you for distracting yourself. It might be a Friday evening when most of the students are already headed to the dormitory, but the work of student council members is never done. Before the weekend, at least.

Your whingeing has been guerdoned: Rollo agreed on taking a break. He was hesitant while doing so, and almost annoyed at the cheery smiles that appeared instantly on three faces, yours, the vice president’s and a school treasurer’s. The papers and cups of cold tea were left instantly, and in the next few minutes, all four of you were heading down the staircase.

…

A square is crowded every season with tourists, so neither you nor Rollo is surprised that the two other students got separated from you before even reaching the main stage. You are thankful for their attentiveness because it allows you to be alone with Rollo.

“They are selling enchanted drinks again!” You exclaim, pointing to a stall with indigo macrame hung around a tent. Some attractions were opened at certain seasons a year, and you remember the elixirs being a hit last year.

“It looks like so,” Rollo states flatly. “I wonder why people are so fixated on this kind of never-lasting things.”

Knowing Rollo is a man of harsh words, you brush off his comment.

Blue potion with edible glitter — you are sure it’s edible glitter because most of the useful mixtures are rather lustreless — catches your eye. It looks like a piece of starry sky tucked into a glass bottle. It’s also supposed to help you with your studies if you drink it, so it’s even more magical.

“Would you like to try one? This one helps you focus… But, yeah, I guess you already can do that perfectly,” you pick up the next vial. “Oh, after drinking the yellow one, you should be able to sing more professionally! And the green one is for rhythm… I would need that one. Yet, the most interesting one here is-”

- a love potion.

Even the vial is heart-shaped. The mixture inside is either pink or purple, you can’t really define it because of the amount of bubbles that constantly stir the mixture. You might not be the best alchemy student ever, but even you know that that potion has some enchanting aroma that might bind your senses.

Maybe that potion is your only chance ever to get with Rollo. Your heart is heavy at the thought of enchanting him to love you.

“I have no intention of buying anything,” Rollo’s curt voice slings you from your thoughts. He takes vials from your hands and puts them back, any moment ready to push them out of his mind. “Anything but croissants. I can treat you to one of those.”

…And that’s how you get free food, dear students.

“Will you? Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You would love to hug him, Rollo is… Rollo probably wouldn’t appreciate this kind of gratitude in the middle of the street. Or wherever. It’s hard to imagine Rollo being happy about a hug as he seems unused to physical contact, yet that might be a reason why you should try to open him up.

For a last moment you think about the enchanted concoctions, but Rollo turns around and you need to catch up to not get separated from him.

Way to his favourite bakery Rollo knows by heart. He guides you through the crowd and it’s easy to follow him as he stands taller than most people, the distance being even larger when you count his hat. He glanced over his shoulder to check if you were still beside him after you get out of the most crowded area.

“We’re here,” Rollo announces as if you hadn’t been accompanying him to the bakery whenever you had a chance. He strides to the counter, where several types of croissants under a glass cover are creating a delicious exhibition. “Choose whatever you like.”

It's a very tempting offer, and you decide to take it once you glue yourself to the glass of a counter.

“I…” You start, pointing at two specific desserts. Two croissants with your favourite fillings are too delicious to pick between them. “Can I get two? I will treat you something in return, once I'll have money on me.”

“You’ll get a stomachache,” he says curtly but slides his card to a lady behind a counter that picks up another baking for himself, halfway dipped in chocolate and topped with cut-dried strawberries. “Be careful. They’ve been just taken out of the oven, so you’d better don’t burn yourself.

“Thanks.”

You let yourself bite into the device, as you take another turn, this time the way leading into the main square. There is a grand scene that is always used for music performances.

There is one being held, a solo.

You glance at the dancer, and they look around the crowd. You think there are your two missing clubmates, and beckon Rollo over.

“Hey, there are—”

…

Your surprise silences you.

Rollo stays planted on the ground, eyes on the dancing girl with something like awe. You know that look. You caught a glimpse of it many times on the surface of the glass in student consul’s showcases; your face, so desperately stretching in a soft smile, not to look suspicious.

For the first time, you didn't like the idea of love at first sight.

…

You know where it’s time to step out. Many negotiations you held with people on behalf of students of NBC sensitised you to their expectations and what you should do.

You smile weakly, before gently tapping Rollo on his arm. “I… will get going.”

But Rollo, amazingly, has already shaken off from mysterious enchantment. If you could only do so as easily, permanently. “Are you sick?” He asks, and when you avoid his eyes, his tone voice drops half a tone. “What happened?”

“Nothing, it’s… Can… I… just go?”

“What happened?” Rollo repeats. His eyes scan you, the first time quickly, and when he doesn’t find anything visible, he gets more alarmed, actually looking stiff. “Did you actually burn yourself? I told you to be careful.”

You don’t know what to tell him but start with a measurement that doesn’t bring him any relief.

“It’s not that, Rollo. I…”

“Do tell.” He insists, although if you said a word, you know he wouldn’t question you any more about this. But he would find out in some other way, and he might think you don’t trust him enough - and this implication you really want to avoid - and… “Tell me.”

…And you want to believe that he’s worried for you.

You stare at the ground, and clasp your hands behind your back once you notice their subtle shaking. Why are you reacting this way? Ahh… “I just don’t enjoy dancing. I think I will just return to school and finish organizing the documents…”

“You’ve always liked to see people dance though.”

So he has noticed.

“I don’t have a talent to dance myself.”

“You just need to learn,” he says, his tone softer than you’ve ever heard him. And as you’ve been listening to his voice o lot, you think you might’ve imagined it. Rollo glances at his watch and urges you to come with him. “It’s almost time to ring the bell. Let’s go. I will help you.”

…

You don’t like climbing the bell tower, and going up hundreds of steps isn’t something easy even with Rollo as your motivation. It’s the anxiety that keeps you going.

“I didn't buy the enchantment, though,” you break the silence, and Rollo looks over his shoulder. He is one step in front of you, and he probably slowed his pace to let you catch up to him easily. He’s a master of climbing stairs and ladders after all. “To dance. The bell won’t do anything if… I don’t have any magic on me, no?”

“Don't depend on these kinds of things,” he grumbles. “If you do, you will never achieve anything. For example, if you drank the potion, of course, you'd know how to dance. But just for tonight.”

You question his motivational quote. “But isn't the magic helpful sometimes?”

“It makes one fully depend on it.”

And the conversation ends here because you’ve reached the top platform. Rollo opens the trapdoor and holds it for you. As you step out, you’re immediately hit with a breeze of cold air, but it’s more kind of refreshing than freezing.

Once the trapdoor is closed, Rollo awaits, frozen for a clock-measured minute and three seconds.

And then he rings the bell. It takes much force to move it, and you are almost sure Rollo doesn’t even boost his strength with magic. But, what’s unexpected, this one time he uses magic to repeat the movements of the bell and have it ring on its own.

DING- DONG.

DING- DONG.

DING- DONG.

He leaves it to ring at the same tempo and turns to you. The magical earplugs in your ears only moderately muffle the sound of the bell. No music from the Topsy-Turvy Event Hall reaches you anymore. You can only hear the rings clearly, and wouldn't hear Rollo if he said anything.

He doesn't even try to, and without even a shred of a smile, he takes your hand in his.

DING- DONG.

His right hand wraps around your waist, and the fingers of the left one intertwine with yours. He stands taller than you, mighty, righteous. His gaze lingers on you as if he judges you.

It’s never a fair judgement, because the slightly offbeat of his heart drives his reason senseless.

He takes the first step to the back, and you follow along.

DING- DONG.

Rollo's movements are fluid and graceful, yet precise and purposeful. He leads you with ease, his body guiding yours. Waltz is a dance that emphasises the partnership, but with you not knowing the steps, it feels to you like some sort of majestic tango.

You’re overpowered within the first seconds of dance.

DING- DONG.

DING- DONG.

Step, step, DING, turn, step, turn, DONG.

You know your cheeks are flushed, and you blame the height and cold wind for it. Maybe it is a tiring dance, and you believe it’s acceptable to be this tired yet happy if you are dancing for all of eternity. It feels like the bell started to strike the omnipresent tempo a lifetime ago.

Rollo knows when your waltz-tango should end. He stops the chime with a fluid movement of his hand, magic stopping the well-kept rhythm from a bell.

BA-DUM, BA-DUM.

Your heart maintains the tempo. Even if each beat is strong and loud, you worry about how it will come to a halt at any second.

“I’m surprised,” he starts, sounding unsurprised but kind…-ish, “that you aren’t in a dance-related club yet.”

You cock your head to the side. “Is this a… sarcasm?”

“No. I think that musical-related things would suit you better. You could dance on that grand stage we approached earlier.”

“Like that girl?”

Rollo frowns. “What girl?”

…He doesn’t remember? How could anyone forget for a second about a person one has fallen for? You couldn’t. You can’t. You’re dumbfounded.

“A dancer. On a stage. Today.” Rollo looks more confused with each suggestion. “She was dancing to a… fast music in a flowy dress?”

“Ah,” finally, recognition sparkles in his eyes. A wave of relief is followed by anxiety, but Rollo shrugs your both overwhelms off, with a flick of his hand. “Yes, like her or… even better. The piece she danced to would fit you if you only embrace your passion. I think your performance would be more dreamy.”

You chuckle.

“If I would do that, what would you do without me in the student council club?” By this slight teasing, Rollo stiffens a little. You place your hand on your chest. “But as your right hand, you can’t get rid of me so easily.”

You swear you see him smiling subtly, and it’s no trick of light.

“As my right hand, you have the power to do whatever you want.”

“Then I want to stay.”

“Hm,” Rollo ponders. As you notice his gaze, you feel as if he’s contemplating which future holds the best fate for you. He lowers his eyelids, sighing slightly. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” you smile. “But if I hold any power like you say, I would like to use it to have you dance with me again.”

“Strange request,” he says curtly but doesn’t deny your request. His follow-up question makes your chest fill with warmth. “Do you know any dances? Except for waltz,” he says as if you could call your ‘waltz’ anything other than pretending to know how to dance.

“Macarena?” You suggest and he looks at you sceptically. In response, you flash him a bashful smile. “No?”

He sighs but takes your hands in his.

“Let me teach you, then,” he says, slowly. “Let’s start with a proper greeting,” but his greeting isn’t proper, because he doesn’t look at you. Because he avoids your gaze, you can have a shameless view on his red face, that must match the temperature with his quickly warming up hands. You always thought Rollo’s hands were cold, until this moment. “An elegant bow…”

He bows and you lift the brim of your skirt in response, trying to copy the fluidity of the curtsy.

He brings your hand up so carefully as if it is made from the thinnest glass, and presses his lips to your knuckles. So cliche, so old-fashioned, but chivalry isn’t dead as it fills you with energy, surprise and some embarrassment that makes you want to live this moment forever. “And a kiss.”

“Now I’m charmed,” You laugh softly, a smile on your face, yet you were mentally prepared to faint. You wonder if doctors would detect you lovesick if your heart actually stopped. “What’s after that?”

Rollo glances up at you, his eyes brighter than ever. He brings you closer to him.

“Let’s talk about rhythm.”

How to win the heart of jack how?

How to win a heart of Jack Howl?

a/n: Dearest Anon, I hope you are still here. I tried my best to write a good story. I hope you and every other reader will enjoy it!!

1. Get him to act as your boyfriend.

You don't know who that boy from Savanaclaw is, but at the moment, you can't care.

Your step hastens unwittingly, and you find yourself running towards the white-haired boy in a gymnastics shirt. He must be returning from daily training because even Mr Vargas doesn't torture his students so early in the morning. You glance at him once more, and you're sure that he will be a perfect fit for a plan you got into.

His ears twitch at the sound of your resilient steps, and he sharply turns your way before you bump into him. Of course, you would have slowed your pace and avoided any accident, but he catches your arms and stops you abruptly. You wonder how strong he may be if he didn't even budge.

"Uh... [Last Name]-senpai...?"

He looks at you with a slightly concerned look.

Oh, so he does know you? Wonderful.

"Hello there," you breathe out, gently getting out of his arms. You hope that being so winded doesn't leave a terribly unfortunate impression. "I… I know that we hadn't really talked with each other—yet—but I would… really, really appreciate it if you could help me with something."

A boy glances at you with vary.

You consider yourself lucky that he doesn't brush you off.

"…What do you need me for?"

You put on the most charming smile you can afford.

"It will sound really stupid, but… could you please act as my boyfriend? Be my fake date?"

…

"What?" A boy stutters the question. Before you can answer, he scrutinizes your surroundings. "Is someone stalking you?"

You shake your head energetically.

"No, no. I… just got into a bet with my cousin. And, well, to summarize the two-hour talk I may have told her that I will bring my boyfriend to a family dinner…" You watch how his expression changes slightly. Falls. "…But, obviously, I wouldn't drag anyone to my house. So, I was thinking about going with someone there and ' breaking up' in a few days. Oh, and I- I can pay you for your help!"

Your hands link in a plea.

"I-" Jack can't find any words he could offer you. Should he help you or just leave…? "[Last Name]-senpai, I really don't know what to say…" He trails off. "…Why me?"

His question animated you. You throw your hands in the air and wave in his general direction.

"I mean, look at you!" You exclaim, hoping a great amount of enthusiasm in your voice will work in your favour. "You seem like a hot, reliable guy. Kind. Charismatic."

Jack looks stunned. "Ah? W… What…?"

"You look exactly like the person I described to my parents!" You don't stop talking. His sudden bashfulness makes you speak even more confidently. "Please, if you aren't dating anyone right now, help me!"

…

Jack's eyes are avoiding yours as he scratches his nape. The silence stretches between you two, and you feel your heart sinking with regret each quiet second.

But then he coughs.

"…I don't like this idea," he mumbles, and his gaze meets yours. You notice the rosiness on his cheeks. The blush probably appeared because of the awkwardness of this situation and not because of a sudden crush on you, though. A pity. "But you look… desperate. You've got the spirit, and I will have you in debt. So… I will try helping you."

"Ah!"

You can't hide the smile that spreads on your face. You jump to Jack and pull him into a tight hug. He tenses under your sudden touch and lightly tries to push you off.

"Thank you so much…!" You cry out. After wiping a dramatic tear, you step back from him. You lower your head when you feel your face heating slightly in shame. "So… What is your name?"

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2. He's still not convinced. Do something.

The bright screen of his phone has his undivided attention. A beautiful moon in the sky is already forgotten even as it's dazzling in its full beauty tonight.

His eyes skim through the chat. The last message you sent was dated five hours ago, and he hasn't been able to push it to the back of his mind. It still clung to him when he listened to lectures and exercised. Now, when he had done everything he had planned for today, and it was getting dark, he can't stop from pondering.

He scrolled to a top of a chat and began going over the conversation for the tenth time.

Chat: [Name] sent you an invitation. Accept to friends?

Chat: Jack accepted an invitation. You're friends now!

[Name]: Hi Jack!!

[Name]: Thank you so much again for agreeing to such a weird deal hahaha

[Name]: Can we meet tomorrow during lunch break to talk about it?

[Jack]: Sure

[Name]: [happy sticker sent]

…Should he regret his decision? But, if he was to turn down your offer, you would have a serious problem, no? Maybe that's what you should get for lying—a lie always has short legs—but…

Jack can't bring himself up to call the whole thing off.

It's not because he is too shy to walk away from that situation. Maybe he doesn't want to leave you by yourself since you picked him from over three hundred students in NRC. And maybe he likes helping people. And your help - he has you in debt, hm - in his studies might be crucial in the future.

Or so he hopes.

Ping!

His heart skips a surprised beat when a sudden message appears after the sticker message.

[Name]: …I see you are still online

[Name]: Can't stop thinking about that chat? Hehe

Jack's fingers hover over the screen before he types a reply.

Jack: I can.

He lied.

Jack: That all just happened so quickly

[Name]: After sleeping, you might feel easier with that idea

[Name]: Tbh I doubt I will be able to sleep right now

[Name]: Soooo

[Name]: Wanna play something?

He doesn't even have a short moment to consider your offer before another notification pops up.

Chat: [Name] invited you to play a game of UNO CARD. Click here to join in!

…

Jack sighs.

And taps the link.

He will go to sleep soon. He can't miss his morning training, after all.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

3. Be a helpful upperclassman.

"Ah. It's that vending machine."

"[Name]-senpai…"

You lean against the cold metal, and Jack slowly looks at you. He heard your steps but didn't react until you made your presence too obvious to ignore. You smile cheerfully at him, not minding the stiffness he treats you with.

"Just [Name], Jack-kouhai," you tease and take two steps to stand next to him, facing the front of a vending machine. Behind the glass, colourful cans reflect the bright lights of corridors' chandeliers. "I see you have a problem here."

There is a bottle of pear-flavoured water trapped between the glass and a lower shelf, where lay packs of biscuit cookies. It doesn't seem to be stuck too hard to give up hope of getting it out, but neither are the other items on the machine. Everything is attached too loosely.

You believe that if you tried to tilt the whole thing, a bottle wouldn't be the only thing that would fall down.

"There are three ways you can get out your precious water, Jack," you hold three fingers in front of him. "You can buy something from a higher shelf—but both things can get stuck—you can punch the machine (gently, Jack, gently), or try reaching that bottle from below… Although it will hurt when you try to squeeze your arm through the window you usually take your drink from," you count solutions on your hand as you talk and then smile at Jack with anticipation.

"…I will go with buying something else, then." He looks like he'd rather give up on the water but still pats his pockets and takes another coin from his pocket. "…I don't have enough to buy anything more right now... Can you wait here while I go for my wallet?"

"No! …Can I have your change?"

…Well. With a grunt that resembles a resigned sigh, he hands you a coin.

You put it in the machine, along with several more you had on yourself, and tap a button next to the big pack of jellies on the highest shelf. With a soft clack! candy lands on a bottle, and with a hard crash, it makes it to the end. With a bottle.

It feels like a big victory when you squat to take both items out.

"We won!" You announce, throwing him his water, and then spare no time to open the jellies. "You can take half of them," As you shift the pack toward him, Jack hesitatingly takes a handful. You grin. "See? Having such a great upperclassman as me is an ultimate investment in life."

"Is that so," Jack ponders. ...Somehow, he feels entertained by your show. If you 'asked out' Ace Trappola instead of him, he would be your perfect partner in this kind of antics. "By the way, senpai, could you check an essay I've done? I need to turn it in tomorrow. That would be even more helpful than help with a vending machine."

The look he gives you says that he doesn't think you can correct his work to make it score top marks. You know you can't do that too.

"……..Heh."

So much for trying to be a helpful senpai.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

4. Get to know him.

"Do I really need to answer these questions?" Jack sounds concerned, and you can't help but chuckle at the hesitance in his voice. "They are weird…"

You take a sip of your drink. It is sour but in a very pleasant way. Well, you couldn't really expect less from the special item on a Monstro Lounge's menu. Even the occasional, time-limited and experimental dishes are quite tasteful here.

Jack sits across you, with his arms crossed as he studies the two-paged paper quiz you handed him. At his left, there is a glass of refreshing lemonade you insisted on paying for. Your fake-and-still-unsure boyfriend in question hasn't left yet, so you guess that treating him was a great idea.

"It's an instant way to know someone. I came up with the idea."

"That's the matter…"

He almost scowls, and you grin at the statement.

"We need to know some basics about ourselves. I wrote my questions for you on this sheet of paper," you point at a thin file in front of him, and shift another one in his direction. "And you can write anything you want to ask me here."

Hm.

Jack isn't sure if he wants to know anything particular about you. Anything more.

"…Okay," he replies, eyeing you carefully. Then, with a pen in his hand, he begins to write his questions for you.

It takes him several minutes to fill the page. When he hands it to you, his firm, right-slanting handwriting flashes at you. Your lips curve as you note that it fits him very much.

But then you start reading the questions.

And your smile drops.

"I can't answer these questions, Jack," you protest, and Jack squints his eyes at you in confusion. "I have no clue about the names of the muscles I focused on when we had a Vargas Camp," At your comment, he starts deflating, and you pause in a second. And then, after rereading the questions again, you pout sulkily. "…Couldn't you ask anything about my great personality?"

"…Then, is there anything I need to know before 'dating' you?" Jack scratches his neck, dropping his gaze at a lemonade before him.

"Now you make it sound as if I was dangerous," you laugh, but you can feel how your voice is a little strained. Just a little bit. "Either way, I won't tell you! You're getting me in a two-in-one special: you get precious me and my darkest secrets. It's a great deal."

"It's not."

You wave your hand as his response is as if it was physically brushed away. "The real question is: do I need to know anything about you?"

Jack huffs, but when he closes his eyes, you know he thinks about it seriously. It doesn't take a long while for him to speak up again.

"I think… I'm a pretty normal guy," he says and looks at you as if he wanted your reassurance. Your mouth 'no', and by the glance he sends you, you know how unimpressed he is. "I might not reach high standards if you or your family have any."

If he was sitting next to you, you would pat his arm, but you can only playfully step on his shoe under the table. You tap it twice, and when Jack looks up at you, a full grin plasters on your face.

You laugh. "You're good to go. I think you are more than living up to my parents' unfounded low expectations of my boyfriend."

"…Now I wonder why so."

"And you will keep on wondering. You won't ever hear this story~." You hum. "Well. Maybe one day."

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

5. Have faith in yourself. (It doesn't need to be justified).

"Now we turn left…"

"It's on the right."

"It's left."

"Right!"

"It's left."

"It can't be left! On the left we have mandragoras..."

"We just passed the alley where they were, [Name]."

Jack sighs. Moving around the botanical garden shouldn't be this hard. You two have been there many times, but now the corridors stopped looking familiar as new roots started taking over the paths. It was a time for flowers to blossom.

Going there was a mistake. You can't even remember what were you going to search for here, but if you asked Jack, he would probably remember.

You don't want to ask him, though.

"Well, you can go right, and I will go left," you huff, crossing your arms. "We will see who will get out of here before the lunch break ends."

You turn around on your heel, and as you step to the left aisle, Jack catches you by the back of your shirt's collar and quickly jumps next to you. Then, by standing back to you, he grabs your arms from behind and pushes you forward. You began taking shaky steps towards the right alley.

"No," says Jack. "We will have a joint PE lesson. Both of us need to eat something before that. Let me guide, [Name]."

"I don't have a choice anyway," you note that although his grip on your arms is steady and would be hard to break out from, it isn't painful. It's almost gentle as he forces you to go ahead. "And don't assume I don't know the way…!"

"I hear the voices of others. I will find an exit faster," he says. "Bear with me, and we'll get out of there."

"…If we don't, you will have to admit publically that your sense of orientation sucks."

"Then, shouldn't you do the same if my lead is correct?"

You slowly start to recognize the plants and where you two were.

He is guiding you correctly.

"…No."

Jack hums, and you can tell he's amused by the disappointment in your voice.

"Then I will keep it a secret to myself."

"I have a great sense of orientation, just- not today!" You protest as you tug on his sleeve. He doesn't stop pushing you so slightly to guide you two to the exit. "Don't remember this kind of lies, Jack."

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6. Cheer on him.

"Here's water."

"Thanks."

Jack takes cold water and sits down next to you. A bench is sturdy enough that it doesn't squeak, even as you sit in the middle of it. With no problem, he takes off a cap you struggled with—he doesn't need to know this, however—and quenches his thirst.

He also accepts the towel your hand him with "thanks".

"You are going to have a match with RSA in two weeks, right?" Your question sounds more like a statement. Jack wonders if you would show up at his training if it wasn't for it.

"Yeah."

"Our school will have a whole day without lessons just to watch it."

Jack nods.

Maybe if it wasn't RSA, it wouldn't be the deal it is now. But you can count only on one hand the NRC students who don't feel competitive when the academy is mentioned. Even the people who aren't going to play, behave as if they were going to, with their cheering and hyping each other.

Cheering… NRC students will have to prepare some banners to support their team. And practice the cheer itself. Probably Pomefiore students will have to engage. They might not be very interested in sports events, but they won't let RSA beat them in terms of aesthetics.

Maybe the strong rivalry isn't that bad at all.

"By the way…" You trail off and don't speak again until Jack looks at you. "Even though we will be cheering on your team, all of my cheers are dedicated to you."

"Khe-"

Oops.

Jack chokes on his water in surprise, but when you move with concern to pat his back, he moves away, coughing into the crook of his elbow, and putting up his other hand to stop you. He eventually stops choking and sighs deeply.

When he looks up, and when you get to see his face, you notice a faint blush on his cheeks. His eyes crinkle wary. "…Are you trying out a pick-up line?"

And you tried being encouraging.

"No! I wanted to be supportive!" You protest. "Would you like it to be a pick-up li-?"

"No thanks," he says curtly. Then, clears his throat, and after making sure he can hold your gaze, he starts paying attention to his voice, to not have the next words come out as a mutter. "…But thank you for being here."

…

You smile softly and can feel your heart warm up.

But you ruin the atmosphere as the mischievous grin spreads up your face and meets your eyes. "Are you trying out a pick-up line, hehe? Don't look at me like that. I would very much like it to be."

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

7. Have fake dates.

"Did you know that couples usually post some photos from their dates?"

You don't look up from your screen when you say it. Jack glances at you, who has been coming to his room whenever you had a chance. You started taking his bed as yours. He always grunts as you do so, but you noticed that a blanket you brought with you on a colder day is always folded and overhanging the headboard.

"What do you mean?" He asks, not stopping flexing his arm with the dumbbell. You turn the screen of your phone towards him, showing a Magicam profile of a girl he doesn't know.

"Like, uh. We should get some material to convince everyone that our relationship is very entertaining," you say, scrolling through the posts.

There are lots of pictures of said girl and her boyfriend. From amusement parks, oceanariums, festivals, bookstores, restaurants… You look at Jack as you got to the last image. "They look happy. And enamoured with each other."

Jack thinks about something.

"Do you think just posting photos is enough to prove the 'trueness' of our relationship?"

You grin. "That will convince introverts. All the people who didn't see us."

Jack actually laughs. "Right," he says, and as his voice steadies, he returns to doing his exercises. As you think the topic is ended, Jack speaks up so quietly that he almost mouths his words. "Then we can get… a few."

His eyes are intensely glued to the floor when you look at him.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

8. Talk about the rules. (Find out whether you can fake a kiss. (Fake kiss?)

"Are we ready?"

Jack asks, for the last time correcting the cuffs of his shirt. A suit he picked fits him; it's similar to the uniform he wears every day, but it's even more elegant. He leaves it unbuttoned, and whether he was wearing a tie, it would cover the little buttons of a white shirt he wears underneath.

He doesn't, though, but you don't say anything. You can't really say anything, because he looks so astonishing that something similar to awe grips your throat. Jack looks gorgeous. Not only in very classic clothes but also freshened up. His hair is puffier than usual, and you would love to play with it if it would ruin its tidiness.

You also dressed yourself up. You thought you were unusually pretty tonight, more than ever.

Jack doesn't agree but doesn't deny it either. He just stares at you, and by the way, his chest expands and stops, you start to wonder if he stopped breathing.

But he finally breathes out, and you don't dare to check if he has a desired blush on his cheeks or not.

You start walking toward the hall of mirrors, where one could take you back to your family home. Your home.

"Once again, leave all the questions related to romance up to me," you say, winking at him. "I read so much fanfiction I can come up with a realistic, heartwarming backstory of our relationship immediately."

"Don't tell them anything weird."

He says so, and you chuckle.

"They will probably tease us, so don't be shy to ignore them," you continue. By the time, you are standing before a big mirror. Its surface shines brightly, and in a brief moment, an image of your hometown is already displayed. Your house is close, very close. "And… just be yourself, you're charming."

"…If you say so," Jack says. He looks as if he wanted to say something, and you wait before he speaks up with hesitation. "Shall we hold hands?"

…

You didn't expect that.

But you aren't going to refuse.

You intertwine your fingers with his and grin. Your heartbeat rises once more again, and you know, that it won't slow down until you return back. Jack squeezes your hand back.

"Next step in our relationship, I see," you say with a smile. "You have warm hands."

You stand there for just a little while, stopping Jack from going through the mirror, but it's too long as another thought crosses your mind.

"Wait. Do you think they will ask us to kiss?" Stupid you, stupid you, stupid you, stop talking, stop talking, stop talking, laugh to cover the awkwardness and throw the topic away. You laugh. "No. They wouldn't. Never mind, don't think about that."

Now you try to go through the mirror. Jack's hand, which still holds yours, stops you midway. You have no choice but to look up at him and confront the gaze he wishes you didn't see.

"…If the situation will be tragic enough, we can do it," he says and coughs. "But it might be awkward, but I don't think I could fake a kiss."

"Neither could I," my chest will explode in a moment, you note. Somehow, you grin with mischief, but it isn't as malicious as you wished it to be. "So our very unfakeable kiss would convince everyone."

"Stop wishing for it to happen."

"I haven't been wishing! But well, maybe I might start doing so. Someday. Sometimes. Ah, let's just go!"

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

9. Lose the previous reason to date.

The dinner went well.

You never once regretted choosing Jack as your partner in crime, but now you were so proud of yourself, as your mother talked happily with Jack, and dad listened to their conversation, sometimes commenting.

Your cousin was actually convinced about your relationship with Jack. She even offered to have a double date and recommended places interesting enough to have memorable dates. She felt happy for you, and it was warming your heart but also freezing it by turns.

You had to politely brush all her offers off because… Well, Jack agreed to be your date until today.

You've been painfully aware of it, as Jack's hand holds yours since you left your house.

Even when you got to the mirror, where no one from your family could see you anymore… Even when you got back to school, your hands were still linked, but you didn't want to point it out. Jack could have backed out and it was the last thing you wanted.

But everything must have an end.

"Thank you," you breathe and smile slightly at him. Looking him straight into the eyes beyond your strength. You part your hands very slowly before you turn to get to your dormitory. "Goodnight, Jack."

…

As Jack turns and walks back to his dormitory, he can't help but think about a single thing. Even the dinner he was stressing about him the whole day has been already forgotten.

The next morning you will wake up, and you two "won't be together".

Jack scowls.

If you ever have been.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

10. End the play.

"Thank you for your hard work~," you smile cheerfully when getting to his room. For the last time as a "partner", if you still hold that title. You put a glass bottle on his desk. "I've got you a pear compote, so you won't have the heart to throw it out."

"I… wouldn't do anything like that even if it wasn't it," Jack says, and doesn't move away when you sit on the bed next to him. He can smell the light perfumes you wore today and almost feels the warmth of your body, sitting so close to him.

There is a silence between you before you decide to break it.

"So… that's it, huh?"

You smile, and something in Jack breaks again. He feels as if was falling, but expected the fall itself… Since he met you properly, he knew you will part your days in a few weeks.

But if he could lengthen the time…

Even if it meant sacrificing the part of his pride…

He would try anything.

His face is covered with blushes, and his mouth twists with embarrassment when he notices how lame is the only excuse he can come up with now.

"Can-" He doesn't stutter but fights with his words. How can he say what he wants so you will understand? "Can we pretend for a little more? I'm sorry, but I told my mother that I have a partner, and she's excited to see you."

…

"So a next dinner!" Your hands clasp with enthusiasm, but you know you need to hold them to stop them from shaking. You need to keep calm and be a cool senpai. "Then, we are continuing our fake dating, hehe?"

Jack purses his lips, and to your surprise, he aggressively shakes his head.

"We can't. She will know if it's fake," he says in a dead-serious tone. Your mouth curls in a smile you try to cover with your hand.

"So we should be serious," you conclude, imitating the voice Jack used just before. And then you stand up from bed and make your way so that you are just before him. You put your hands on your sides. "But I am waiting for a proper confession."

Jack sighs softly.

"…You're making this hard for me," he says, but stands up. The morning rays of sunlight come through the window and enlighten his figure. His eyes shine with gold, and somehow you can't look away from them."…And it's weird because I wouldn't like it if you stopped complicating things." He puts his hand over his heart. "I simply want to stay by your side, now and… in the future… That's the only thing I wish now."