Chapter Text
Grian’s cave house is warm, cluttered, and echoey in a way that makes privacy feel optional at best. Lanterns hang from uneven stone, casting soft light over redstone bits, half-finished contraptions, and a table that definitely used to be something else.A high tinted window reflects light in a kaleidoscope way.
Pearl sits stiffly on a carved stone bench, tail wrapped tightly around her ankle, ears angled back in defensive precision. She is absolutely not fidgeting.
Across from her, Grian leans against a support pillar, arms folded, wearing the expression of someone who has uncovered a deeply entertaining truth.
“So,” he says casually, “how’s your friend?”
Pearl doesn’t even blink. “Which one.”
“The dragon tamer,” he replies, smile already widening.
Pearl’s tail tightens further.
“I am speaking to many individuals in a professional capacity,” she says. “Please be specific.”
Grian taps his chin like he’s thinking very hard. “Warm presence. Likes standing too close. Calls you hot.”
Pearl’s ears flatten instantly.
“I. AM. STRAIGHT!”
The words echo faintly around the cave.
Grian doesn’t react. He just nods slowly, like someone observing a fascinating natural phenomenon.
“Interesting,” he says. “Because your ears did that thing again.”
“They did not.”
“They definitely did.”
Pearl sits straighter. Her tail flicks once, then stills with visible effort.
“I am not experiencing a romantic inclination,” she says, very precise. “I am maintaining appropriate cooperative rapport with a colleague.”
“Uh-huh,” Grian says. “And the staring?”
“I do not stare.”
“You track her movement before she speaks.”
“That is situational awareness.”
“You adjust your posture when she walks in.”
“That is professionalism.”
“You stopped breathing last time she complimented you.”
Pearl freezes.
“…That was a respiratory pause.”
Grian bites back a laugh and fails spectacularly.
Pearl stands abruptly, beginning to pace the cave floor. Her canine feet make soft, controlled sounds against the stone. Her ears swivel with agitation, tail flicking sharp little beats behind her.
“I am not,” she says firmly, “developing a crush.”
Grian watches her complete two full pacing loops.
“You built a hut with optimal sightlines because she visits that area,” he says mildly.
“That was for safety.”
“You changed patrol routes.”
“Efficiency.”
“You polished your containment kit twice before seeing her.”
Pearl stops pacing. Turns. Points.
“IM NOT ATTRACTED TO WOMEN.”
A bat somewhere deeper in the cave flutters in alarm.
(maybe Tango?)
Grian holds up his hands. “Okay! Okay. Totally straight. Completely. No notes.”
Pearl exhales, regaining composure by force. Her ears lift again, posture resetting into perfect professionalism.
“…Thank you,” she says, dignified.
A beat passes.
Grian tilts his head. “So if she walked in right now and called you radiant—”
“She would not.”
“Hypothetically…”
Pearl’s tail gives one small, traitorous wag before she clamps it still.
“I would respond appropriately.”
Grian grins. “Define appropriately.”
Pearl opens her mouth.
Closes it.
“…I would acknowledge the statement,” she says at last, carefully.
Grian nods, deeply satisfied. “Mhm.”
Silence settles:comfortable, teasing,familiar.
After a moment, Pearl sits again, shoulders lowering just slightly. Her ears angle toward the cave entrance without her noticing.
Grian notices.
He says nothing,just smiles softly to himself.
Pearl clears her throat, folding her hands in her lap.
“I am,” she repeats, quieter but no less certain, “straight.”
Grian hums in agreement.
Outside the cave, the evening light shifts warm and gold and Pearl absolutely does not glance toward it like she’s expecting someone.
Not even once.