Sebastian's bed was, without a doubt, the coziest, bounciest bed I'd ever laid on. Not even my own could compete. The sheets, cool against my skin, felt like they'd been made for napping—perfectly inviting and just shy of magical. If Sebastian weren't busy kicking my ass in Tekken, I could have easily drifted off right then and there.
"Looks like you still suck," Sebastian remarked with a smirk, his tone as casual as if he were commenting on the weather.
I turned to him, thoroughly offended. "Hey, give me some slack here! I can't exactly go pro in under a month, can I?" I hissed, gripping the controller tighter.
"Just admit it—you're hopeless. Not even divine intervention could save you now," he shot back, his grin widening as he poked at my pride.
"That isn't fair," I muttered, pouting like a child. But Sebastian didn't bother replying, just let out an exaggerated sigh before dropping his controller beside me. With zero ceremony, he stood, shuffled over to his bed, and flopped down face-first into the mattress.
"Well," he mumbled, voice muffled by a pillow, "nothing's fair. And I'm tired."
He tugged the covers over himself, but only managed to wrap them around his upper half, leaving his legs sprawled out and bare. The sight made me snicker. He looked ridiculous, half-buried like a kid playing hide-and-seek.
Feeling the sting of defeat still fresh, I switched off the TV, making sure to unplug it before joining him on the bed. It was small—too small for two people, really—so I had to scoot closer to avoid teetering off the side.
That movement caught Sebastian's attention. His head snapped up, and he gave me a look of surprise, his cheeks faintly pink.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion—or maybe something else I couldn't quite place.
I grinned, leaning back with a dramatic sigh, my hands tucked behind my head. "What does it look like? I'm resting. Obviously."
Sebastian shifted uncomfortably, pressing himself closer to the wall to create some distance between us. "I didn't say you could lie on my bed," he muttered, his voice thick and unsteady.
"Aww, would you really deny your close friend a place to rest?" I teased, turning my head to look at him. His glare was weak at best, half-buried as he was under his blanket.
"That's not—" He stammered, cutting himself off before averting his gaze entirely.
"Wait a second," I said, catching the faint blush that spread across his cheeks. "Are you shy?"
His eyes snapped back to me, wide and indignant. "I'm not shy!" he retorted, but the way he buried his face deeper into the covers said otherwise.
I chuckled, rolling onto my side to face him. I hadn't noticed it before, but now that I was paying attention, he looked… uncomfortable. Not annoyed or angry, just—awkward. Like he wasn't used to sharing his space.
A pang of guilt hit me. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" I asked softly, already starting to sit up. "I can move. The floor's not so bad, anyway. I just wanted to rest for a bit before heading home."
Home. Where work and responsibilities waited for me. The thought made me want to sink back into Sebastian's ridiculously cozy bed and stay there forever. But I didn't want to push him, not if it meant making him uneasy.
Before I could fully rise, I felt his hand on my elbow, stopping me.
"No—it's fine," he said, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. His gaze was still fixed somewhere else, anywhere but me. "You can stay. You look tired."
I paused, studying him for a moment before lying back down. "You're tired too," I pointed out, turning on my side again to face him.
That comment seemed to fluster him even more. He glanced at me briefly, then shook his head with a huff, as though trying to brush off the concern. "That's normal for me," he muttered.
I couldn't help but laugh. "Fair point," I said with a small grin. "But seriously, you should do something about that. You know, now that I'm here to make sure you don't starve to death."
I throw him a playful wink, but Sebastian only rolls his eyes in response.
"It's become a habit at this point, I suppose," he says, leaning back against the pillows with a sigh. "I've come to love sleeping." A small, fleeting smile tugs at his lips, softening the usually sharp edges of his face.
Lately, he's been smiling more often, hasn't he? It suits him in a way I never expected. There's a strange, almost disarming youthfulness about it that reminds me just how young Sebastian was when he was turned—a boy frozen in time while the world around him grows and ages. His family, his friends, everyone he once knew… they're moving forward. And he's stuck here, ageless.
I wonder how he truly feels about that.
"What are you going to do this semester break?" I ask eventually, breaking the quiet between us.
Sebastian's expression twists into something unreadable, his brows knitting together slightly before he mutters, "Sleep?"
That earns a loud laugh out of me—sharp and sudden, like I couldn't hold it back even if I tried. "Oh, come on, are you serious right now?" I tease, clutching my stomach as the laughter bubbles out.
Sebastian glares at me, though there's no real heat in it. "What else can I do?" he shoots back, his voice dipping into something quieter, almost defeated. "Maybe I'll help you and Shira. Then again…" He pauses, his jaw tightening before he continues in a softer tone. "I've barely helped with anything these past few weeks."
His words are laced with disappointment, the kind that makes my laughter fade almost instantly.
"Hey, don't do that," I say, my tone firm but not unkind. "Missions like this? They take months, sometimes years. Did you really think we'd wrap this up in a week?"
Sebastian doesn't respond right away. Instead, he exhales slowly, his eyes fixed on some distant point beyond the room. "No... I suppose not," he murmurs, almost to himself.
"And what about you?" he asks after a beat, his gaze flicking back to mine.
I hesitate, biting the inside of my cheek. "Well…" I start, dragging the word out as if it might soften the blow. "This isn't final, but—I think I'll head back to the academy for a bit."
Sebastian sits up abruptly, the movement so sudden it startles me. "You're going back?" he asks, his voice higher than usual.
The disbelief in his tone catches me off guard, and I let out a small, nervous laugh. "Temporarily!" I add quickly, lifting my hands as if to calm him. But the explanation doesn't seem to do much. The frown etched into his face only deepens.
"Semester break is three weeks," he says after a moment, his voice low and measured. "You'll be gone for three weeks then…"
The weight in his words is impossible to miss. He's upset.
A bead of sweat trickles down the back of my neck, and I shift uncomfortably under his gaze. "Yeah? Me and Shira are needed at the academy," I say, trying to keep my voice light, though I can feel the tension creeping into the room. "With no real updates on the mission and… well, the lack of High Mages in Zaudseth, they've called us back. We're needed there."
I sigh, hoping the explanation will be enough, but the way Sebastian's eyes dim makes my chest tighten. He leans back slowly, his head tipping against the couch as he stares at the ceiling.
"You only told me now?"
The question stings, his voice so quiet it almost feels like an accusation.
I wince. "Sorry," I say, dragging the word out with an awkward laugh to soften the blow. "My mother mentioned it a few days ago, after I gave her the scarf I bought. It wasn't finalized then, but I guess she's made up her mind. So… yeah. I guess I won't be seeing you for three weeks."
Sebastian doesn't say anything. The silence stretches, heavy and uncomfortable, until I sigh again.
"And I can't bring you," I add quietly, feeling the need to fill the void. "You've got a life here, Sebastian. You can't just—"
Before I can finish, his hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist. The suddenness of the movement pulls me forward, so close I can feel the cold brush of his breath against my cheek.
"I'd like to come," he says, his voice low but steady, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my heart stutter.
"Eh?" The sound escapes me before I can stop it.
—
Later that day, I was tucked away in my office, hunched over my desk as the scratch of my fountain pen filled the quiet space. I'd been working on a report for hours, the words blurring together on the parchment. I barely noticed when Shira slipped in, a steaming cup of tea in her hands.
"Tea," she said simply, setting it down on the corner of my desk. I looked up, startled out of my thoughts. My hand relaxed its grip on the pen, leaving a faint smear of ink on my fingers.
"Thanks," I murmured, reaching for the cup. But Shira didn't leave. Instead, she pulled out the chair across from me and sat down, her sharp eyes studying me.
"So," she began, her tone casual but laced with curiosity, "he wants to come, huh?"
I blinked at her, momentarily confused. "Sebastian?" I asked, taking a sip of the tea.
"Mhm." She leaned back, crossing her arms. Her expression was unreadable, but I could tell she was gearing up for one of her infamous interrogations. "Did he tell you why he's so eager to tag along?"
I set the cup down and shrugged. "Not exactly. But I think it's pretty obvious. He loves the magical side of the world. Always has." I allowed myself a small grin at the thought. Sebastian had the wide-eyed wonder of someone still enchanted by magic—a rare quality these days.
Shira, however, didn't seem convinced. She raised an eyebrow. "What is he, a child?" she asked, her voice dripping with skepticism.
I couldn't help but laugh. "What's with you and Sebastian? You two are like cats and dogs. Lay off him, will you?" My grin widened as I leaned back in my chair. "I honestly thought you'd have warmed up to him by now."
Shira rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "I don't have a problem with him," she said, though her tone suggested otherwise. "But that kid is too weak for my liking. Tsk." She turned her head away, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
I couldn't suppress my grin. For all her grumbling, I knew Shira cared—she just had a funny way of showing it.
"Sure, sure," I teased lightly. "Whatever you say."
She shot me a glare but didn't argue. Instead, she changed the subject. "Shouldn't you be packing by now? You've been sitting here all day."
I glanced at the half-finished report on my desk and sighed. "I'm just about done," I said, signing the paper with a flourish. Then, with a flick of my fingers, the parchment burst into blue flames, disintegrating into ash before it could hit the desk.
Shira rolled her eyes at the display. "Showoff," she muttered under her breath.
"Guilty as charged," I said with a grin, standing and stretching. "Alright, I'll get to packing now. Happy?"
"Ecstatic," she deadpanned, though the corner of her mouth twitched, betraying a hint of amusement.