Chapter Text
“Now, just because you and Gideon are friends, doesn’t mean you can slack off on this hearing,” Cole fixed Harper’s collar, they inched away and guffawed loudly, cackling at the mere idea of it all.
There was simply no universe, friends or not, where Harper would ever turn down the chance to put Gideon in his place. No world where Harper would not revel in arguing with Gideon.
The case went well, Harper thought. They voiced this idea to Cole after the fact, and she just looked at them with a sidelong glance. They did end up getting a coffee at a nearby cafe though, celebratory, or pitiful, they couldn’t tell.
“Good job today, kid. I’m real proud of you.” Cole said once she’d sipped her decaf.
“Thank you! Do you think Mr. Aria will finally install the coffee bar I’ve been asking for?”
She snorted, “No shot. You’ve gotta be bringing in bigger bucks that this, kid, if you want an in house coffee machine. Mal’s got it in his head they rot without maintenance. You know we can’t be trusted with regular upkeep of that thing.”
Harper sighed, “Hey, I’ve kept my houseplant alive for a few months now!” Still, they had been forgetting to water it. And maybe Hazel had to remind them to water it every other week.
“Sure.”
The Megalopolis Law School was surprisingly quite festive in December, with holiday coloured bunting hanging from the buildings, Christmas lights wrapped around the Johannes Statue and a large Christmas tree instituted near the main entrance. Harper tugged their scarf tighter as they trekked across the snow laden campus. Their breath was visible in front of them, and when they finally made it inside a building, they were shivering, hands stuffed into their pockets. There was a Christmas party set up by a professor and some of their students, and Harper had been invited due to them being a TA of said professor. Hazel had convinced—more or less coerced, them to go. In the coat room, Harper took off their wool sweater and scarf, their casual attire underneath.
The event room was large and spacious, and tables and chairs were set up with food tables lining the walls. An empty stage was at the front, and a lot of people were milling around, and Harper couldn’t find a table that wasn’t occupied. There was more people than they thought there’d be. Was everyone here all TA’s? Statistically—
They got jostled from their thoughts when they bumped into a fellow student they vaguely recognized? The hollow eye-bags and ruffled dress shirt was common, so who knew. Unfortunately before Harper had the chance to inspect it a little further, a scalding cup of coffee spilled on their front.
“Ack, I’m so sorry!”
“It’s- it’s fine.” They watched as the coffee dripped slowly onto the floor, staining their button up shirt and potentially the floor. It scalded their chest, heat blooming.
The person scrambled around and ran off to the nearest table, returning with a napkin, trying to fix up Harper’s clothes, and inevitably making it worse.
Harper stopped them, “It’s fine. I’ll just… go—…"
“Harper, I’m so sorry! Professor Tabata really wanted to see you!” Oh, that’s where Harper knew them from. A freshman they TA’d for last semester. Teaching was a bold choice. Bold and… regrettable.
“It’s alright. I’ll go talk to her. I just need to—“ they gestured at their soiled shirt.
“Y-yeah of course. Once again I really need to apologize.”
Harper accepted their apology and walked away, trying to find the nearest bathroom while attempting to cover it up with hands. If only they had their scarf right now!
Gideon hated parties. Not in a cynical way, well maybe, but he hated the people who went to them, the people who hosted them, the alcohol. Of course he had said no when invited to his faculty’s Christmas celebration, and of course he was still forced by Tim.
His annoyingly chipper, not all there, potentially nepotistic coworker. He’d thought he was safe, but Tim had caught him at a critically vulnerable time. His… whatever it was, with Harper Hallo. And Tim being insidious and altogether nefarious had brought down his defenses to squeeze out a “yes.”
He had thought about not going, even attempted to; yet Tim showed up on his doorstep an hour or two before the event, and did not leave until he had put on some modicum of festive wear.
Gideon settled on a red tie, but wait, he was wearing green jewelry.
“You look great!”
Gideon gave him a side long glance, if he didn’t know any better, he’d think Tim was hitting on him. "Don't you have a partner? Where are they?"
"He couldn't make it!" Tim pouted, and Gideon was beginning to think this supposed partner hadn't even existed, after all, he'd never even met him.
"Okay, come on! We're going to be late."
"Parties are usually something you're meant to be late for, you know."
Tim rolled his eyes.
Harper pushed the bathroom door open, thankful it wasn't occupied. The stain looked much gnarlier from their point of view than when they looked at it in the mirror. It was still a vibrant shade of red, but maybe they could just twist it to the back? Harper frowned, and activated the faucet, and tried to scrub it out of their shirt. It made the stain worse, and now their shirt was wet. Christ, what were they going to do? Might as well go home—if only they hadn't promised to see Professor Tabata.
Goddamn it, they were tired.
Harper exited, finding puffed pastries on a table, and taking a few to eat. They'd really gone all out for this party. They spotted Gideon Smurton talking with another person across the room. Should they go up to him? he looked busy, but with Gideon, he might also just be looking for an out during the conversation. it didn't matter in the end, Gideon spotted them soon after, narrowing his eyes and walking across to them, leaving his friend alone.
"Hey… Gideon," his first name felt weird in Harper's mouth.
"…Harper. Happy Hanukah to you."
"Thank you! Merry Christmas, Smurton," well, it was nice when it lasted.
Before they could stew in an awkward silence for too long, Gideon's friend sidled up to them and held out his hand. "Hi! I'm Tim. It's so nice to meet you!"
Harper shook his hand, smiling, "I'm Harper, you're Gideon's friend? I didn't know he had those."
Tim said "yes" at the same time Gideon said "no."
Gideon shot an annoyed look at Tim, shutting him up, "We're coworkers."
"I see…"
"Hallo," Gideon crossed his arms.
"What?"
"You have a stain on your shirt."
"Thank you, Smurton, I hadn't noticed," they scowled.
"You're quite welcome."
Harper rolled their eyes, "Well, I'm going to go find a tablecloth or something to cover this with."
"Have fun,' he said dryly.
"Oh, don't worry, here," Tim suddenly took off his blazer, and passed it to Harper.
"Oh! Thank you," Harper put it on, buttoning the front to hide the stain. That was nice of him! "Wow, thanks, I really appreciate it."
"No problem," he beamed, "do you guys want to go get some drinks?"
"Yeah, sure—!"
Gideon butt in before Harper could say anything more, "I thought you were going to go hang out with your friends?" His voice hard.
"Hey," Harper frowned, "I don't mind."
Tim laughed, "Gideon, you are hilarious."
What the hell? Gideon wasn't hilarious, he was barely funny on a good day. Sure he thought he was funny, but Gideon hadn't even said anything close to a joke—
"Besides, I want to hang out with you guys! Harper said I could," he added.
"And we're listening to Harper Hallo of all people."
"Hey!"
Gideon ignored them, "You can get us drinks," he said pointedly.
Tim bounded away, and Harper turned to appraise Gideon suspiciously, "what was that about?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said coolly.
"Riiight," if Harper didn't know any better, they'd think Gideon was what… jealous? Of what? They didn't say anything more, leaving them to steep in silence. Harper adjusted their blazer, and Gideon very obviously did not look at them.
"What the hell happened, anyway? Tripped into a bowl of fruit punch?"
They snorted, "Someone ran into me."
"Wow." Gideon said in a tone that suggested he did not care whatsoever about the circumstances Harper gets themselves into.
"Yep…"
The two of them lapsed into an odd silence, not quite devoid of noise as the party still went on around them, but the bubble they were in felt especially ripe with… something. Not tension in the ways they usually had, but a different, almost intimate silence. "Nice weather we're having," They said.
"Shut up."
Harper couldn't tell if Gideon was laughing at them, or with them. They smiled in return, then collapsed back into quiet. Harper fiddled with their blazer sleeves, looking around. They found the professor talking with her colleagues near the drinks table. In mutual agreement, they crossed the large ballroom to where she stood.
She perked up as soon as she saw them both. "Harper, Gideon! I'm so glad you two could make it." She turned to the people she had been chatting with—more freshman, it seemed, "these two are my star students! They have such drive that you don't really see often," she beamed.
Harper and Gideon stood shoulder to shoulder, with Gideon shaking their hands, and Harper waving a hello. The warmth of his skin was wholly new to Harper—new, yet not unwanted. To be honest, Harper didn't have many friends that wasn't their colleagues, or their sibling. They smiled cheerfully at the three others, their stares wide-eyed, if a little wary as well. The two women were dressed in tasteful, bespoke pantsuits, the man was cradling a wine glass in his hand. Fancy indeed. (They had wine here? Where?) The ash-blond man eyed their blazer, which clearly did not match the rest of their outfit and was a bit too wide at the shoulders.
Ah, competition never gets better. Harper thought with bleak amusement.
"It's good to meet you three," Harper said, then caught the man's eye, who had devolved into staring with pure distaste, "Tears," they gestured at their shirt.
"I'm sorry?" His face did something funny.
"It was the tears of the opposing counsel that got onto my shirt, ergo, blazer."
Besides them, Gideon tried to stifle a laugh, succeeding, but his shoulder were slightly shaking, and he had to clear his throat before speaking again.
"What my classmate meant to say was, someone had spilled something on their shirt."
"Aw, it's so nice of you look out for them," The woman in the middle of the three smiled, she was especially young (could Harper say that? Granted, they were only 24 this month, yet the difference felt stark) and inexperienced. It must've been the shine in their eyes—God, when had they gotten so cynical? They banished the thought.
Gideon almost imperceptibly stiffened beside them.
"Yes, Smurton was so kind as to help me out, wasn't he?" They gave a sidelong look towards him, mischief in their eye.
"Of course," Gideon said smoothly, "I don't believe in things such as rivals. We should really be helping our fellow classmates out when we can."
"Well put!" Professor Tabata said,
Harper couldn't tamp down the laughter that came bubbling out. They played it off as a polite chuckle, "Smurton here is right! You should always be lending a hand when people are in need. Hostility just gets you nowhere."
Gideon elbowed Harper, too small for anyone else to notice. Harper elbowed back, slightly harder.elbowed them, too small for anyone else to notice, but Harper
He cleared his throat, "Agreed."
"I just wanted to tell you guys congratulations on your internships, and thank you for helping me out in class."
"It was no problem," Harper beamed. Gideon nodded.
"It was nice seeing you both," the professor smiled amicably, "And good luck in your second semester, you two."
Harper and Gideon locked eyes in a silent confirmation. They would do whatever it took to win valedictorian. Harper would win it, they felt it true, there would be no question about it. They were one of the best in their year, if not the best—because they had something the others could only dream of.
Passion.
Undeniable, effervescent, yet wholly vicious.
"Oh- and I almost forgot. Happy birthday, Harper."
Harper smiled politely and thanked Professor Tabata. They left the professor and the freshman, and went off to find the other things the party had to offer. With soft classical music in the background, Gideon hissed, "How did you manage to keep that from me for three years?"
"Because I'm just better," Harper's tone was saccharine, "Obviously I know that your birthday is August 3rd, because I'm the better frie- rival."
"If you're the better "frie-rival," Hallo, how come I know that your childhood dog's name was Buddy?"
"Jerk," Harper growled, as they approached the photo booth. Had Gideon noticed this was where they were heading? Harper hadn't. Well, they might as well take advantage of the fact that the line was short. They fell in behind a large group of dressed up students. And how had Gideon even found that out?
"Why didn't you tell anyone about your birthday?"
Harper raised a brow, "That's a bit presumptuous, Smurton, don't you think? I told my family."
He scoffed, "Of course. Because that counts."
"Why? Are you mad you didn't get to bake me a cake?"
"No," he huffed, "It just would've been nice to know."
"Surprise…?"
"It doesn't work now." The two of them moved up the line.
"You just lack the vision."
Gideon ignored that, "How come you don't celebrate it?"
"How do you know I do?"
"Because, Harper, I know you," he growled, "and you would carry around twenty birthday balloons if you did, and a pin that tells me exactly how old you're turning."
"I would not!"
"You absolutely would," he snorted, "You are prideful."
Harper burst into a laugh, "Me? Says you."
"I am prideful, but so are you. You're disgustingly humble, but not self-deprecating. You're proud of what you've done, and what you've achieved."
"Maybe," they said begrudgingly, "I just don't enjoy celebrating it that much is all. Being a twin made it hard."
"God knows I don't either."
"You don't?" Harper said, surprised, "You're so egotistical and all, though."
He scoffed, "Come on, Hallo, you've seen my parents."
"That is true."
Gideon threw them a glare, "Also, I use "prideful" for you, and you give me "egotistical?"
"Yes."
"Well, fine. I don't deny the claim."
Harper laughed, and they waited in silence, at the top of the line already. The group ahead of them exited the photo booth, doing pairs for the photos, and waited off to the side.
Gideon climbed in first, and Harper dragged the red curtain close as they sat side by side on the small bench, squished together in the tiny photo booth. It had red walls, grey checkered floor, and an opening in the wall for the camera. Above them were neon red and green Christmas lights.
"Ready?" Gideon said, clicking on the button. Ominous ticking rang out.
"Say happy birthday," Gideon turned to them with a smirk.
"Piss off," Harper huffed. The camera flashed before them.
Harper gasped, "You totally just ruined that ph—"
"Shut up, Harper."
The camera flashed again, catching Harper's glare at Gideon, and his smug little smile. Harper's eyes widened in horror, before settling. "Okay! Okay, this one's gonna be happy!" Harper exclaimed. They put on smiles, and Harper threw up a peace sign. The tick tick of the photobooth sounded after the camera clicked.
"Crap, how many do we have to pose for? Quick!" Harper and Gideon posed, back to back with each other, finger guns up to their noses. Harper tried to look cool and suave, while Gideon probably looked better while doing it effortlessly. Gideon let out a small chuckle afterwards.
The both of them climbed out after that one, because it turned out the photo booth took four photos.
They took their photos from the slit in the side of the photo booth after. Harper looked through them with a smile, "Merry Chr— HEY!" they spun to glower at Gideon, "You put bunny ears on me!" they gestured to the only photo of them smiling, Gideon's fingers coming up behind them, his smile wide, and Harper's oblivious.
He laughed, maybe as carefree as Harper had ever seen him. Some of their anger dissipated, then came back after Gideon's laugh went on for too long. He printed another set to himself before turning back to Harper, "Let's go over there," he pointed to the far end of the room.
"What's over that way?" They both started walking towards it.
"Hot chocolate bar."
Harper gasped excitedly, "No way!"
"Big hot chocolate fan I take it," Gideon said, as they dodged a pair of rowdy dancers.
"Only the biggest!" Harper glanced at his neutral face, narrowing their eyes, "Don't tell me you hate it, Smurton, that would that be too much. Even for you," they added.
"I don't. I've just never had it."
Harper jumped in front of him, "Shut up. There's no way!"
Gideon shook his head.
"You aren't pulling a prank on me, right?"
"No, Hallo. My parents just did martinis and stuff."
"What a horrible life you live," Harper said, genuine.
"Could be worse," he said, sliding his gaze to theirs as they continued walking.
Once they reached the bar, Harper took to enthusiastically putting all the toppings on theirs, a mountain of marshmallows making the liquid beneath not visible. They put a layer of whipped cream above, "the marshmallows are for structural integrity," they explained to the hot chocolate noob, then carefully placed more marshmallows in the whipped cream, a peppermint stick, chocolate shavings (fancy), chocolate syrup—much to Gideon's bemusement; "there's already chocolate, though. It's hot chocolate,"—and a pinch of flaky sea salt.
Gideon eyed it dubiously, holding his plain mug in hand, "That looks supremely unhealthy."
Harper rolled their eyes, "It's the holidays, I can have hot chocolate in peace," before Gideon could protest any more, they continued, "And what is that? That is the saddest hot chocolate I've ever seen."
Gideon looked down at his drink protectively, "It looks good as it is."
"It looks boring. Give it to me."
"You're going to put an obscene amount of toppings on it."
"The toppings are for the aesthetic, Smurton."
He scoffed, "There's no way that even tastes good."
"It does! Watch me!" Harper sipped at it, immediately getting half a can of whipped cream in their mouth—and salt, and bits of chocolate. They tried to hide their grimace, upper lip covered with whipped cream. They took another drink, actually getting to taste the hot cocoa this time, "Oh crap that's hot," they spluttered, trying to fan their mouth with one hand to cool down. They coughed, the whipped cream going down wrong.
Gideon stood, watching them, trying desperately not to burst out into laughter. He failed.
"F-fuck off!" Harper glared, taking another swig in hopes it would help. It did not.
"Holy shit," he shook with laughter, "You're kidding me!"
"It- tastes good," Harper said once they were finally able to. "Will you let me make yours now?"
"You have something," he pointed to their upper lip.
"Oh—" their hand reached up to brush it away, but Gideon was too quick. With his blazer sleeve he wiped off the whipped cream from Harper's mouth. They locked gazes, and Harper found blush rising up their neck, "Oh, uh—"
"S-sorry," Gideon said awkwardly, he pulled away, maybe realizing how little space there was between them.
"Your sleeve," Harper frowned.
"It's fine. Can't look worse than your shirt," he raised an eyebrow, and Harper found themselves chuckling, relieved to be out of that weird tension, "What do you know about shirts, Smurton? Give me your mug."
Gideon looked reluctant, but he eventually handed over his mug. Harper took a look at the three lone marshmallows pathetically bobbing on the surface and tsked.
"This is awful," they said.
"It's perfectly serviceable."
They got to work. They did something simple, whipped cream with marshmallows on top, peppermint and candy cane crushed bits, and two wafer sticks to drink out of.
"Aw, it's so cute," Harper cooed, "Try it!"
Gideon was about to sip on the edge of his mug, and Harper had to stop him. You'd think he never drank hot chocolate before—right. He drank through the "straw," looking skeptical.
"Bite some too after you take a sip!"
He did so, pondering for a few moments. Harper took a sip of their own hot chocolate, finally cooling down enough that it didn't scald their tongue.
Something like contentment made it's way across Gideon's face, and he nodded, "It's good."
"Hah!" Harper crowed, "I told you!"
Gideon rolled his eyes, then scanned the crowd. Harper did too, unsure what they were looking for, "I don't see Tim. Oh there he is!" He was doing something that looked like trivia in the corner of the ballroom, a group of people huddled into teams.
"He looks fine to me," Gideon said, "Follow me. Bring your hot chocolate."
"Alright?"
They walked against the wall, and Gideon stopped in front of a heavy metal door, glancing behind him then pushing it open. Harper, suspicious, followed behind him, taking a two flights of stairs until they pushed open a door leading out to the rooftop area.
It was lightly snowing, the blazing orange sun slowly setting behind the horizon. Gideon walked forward, and brushed the snow off the edge of the roof, his legs dangling over the side of the building. He patted the space next to him, also having been cleared of snow, looking out into the distance. Their breath was visible in front of them, but it wasn't too cold. They took the seat beside Gideon.
They sipped on their hot cocoa, cradling the cup in their hands. The city's skyline to the right of them was just starting to light up with the dusk, the silhouette of the monorail tracks visible against the skyscrapers. Harper gripped the edge of the building, fingers going numb through conduction and as snowflakes landed, but they found they didn't mind it. The party below wasn't audible from up here, and all felt still.
Harper slipped their tongue out to catch the falling snow, but didn't manage to catch any. They gave a short laugh of wonder.
Gideon tilted his head to look at them, the setting sun casting orange rays on his face—snowflakes on his eyelashes, and in his hair—"It's nice up here, isn't it," it wasn't a question, but an observation.
Harper's voice was soft, though they weren't quite sure why, "Thanks. We got to catch the sunset!" they said, giddy.
"Indeed."
They bathed in the sun's dying luminescence, Harper found comfort in knowing it will come again the next day. The air around them felt precious, as if the snowflakes were there just for the two of them. The tranquil expanse sat quiet with them.
"Happy 25th birthday, Harper," Gideon murmured.
"Aw, thanks, Gideon,"—their phone buzzed in their pocket, and they fished it out—"Oh, I think I have to go."
When are you coming home? Hazel texted. I ordered pizzaaaa!!!
Harper smiled, I'll be home in 20 mins. thanks!
Gideon watched them go as they waved bye.
Back at their apartment—coat and scarf acquired, though they weren't able to give Tim's blazer back—Harper knocked on the door before turning the key and entering. The lights were closed, they frowned, flicking on the overhead.
"SURPRISE!"
Wide-eyed, Harper stared at their family, colleagues, and friends. Banners were hung on their living room wall, balloons, and confetti was in the air.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARPER!"
Hazel laughed at the look on their face, "Pretty cool right? I got you distracted by that party." Harper engulfed their twin in a hug, "Thank you."
"No problem," they grinned, "I thought it was about time my sibling learned to enjoy their own birthday as much as I do."