Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Did they open?” Lapis suddenly appeared behind Cairngorm’s chair, making them almost jump out of the seat.

“What the hell?”

Ignoring their complaints, Lapis picked up Cairn’s bag from the chair next to them and dropped it on the floor. They took a seat on the now empty chair, crossing their legs to catch Cairn’s attention.

“Did they open?” they asked again.

Cairngorm mumbled a couple of courses, as if they had not occupied the seat specifically for Lapis. It was impossible to find a free computer in all of campus today. They refreshed the browser again before groaning. They slouched in their chair, shoving their hands inside their hoodie’s pockets.

“No. For fuck’s sake, they said 3pm! I got better stuff to do than wait for registration to open.”

“Like?” Lapis smirked as they typed in their own password. Their fingernails made sharp clicking noises on the keyboard, joining in the chorus of students refreshing the same page over and over. They predicted it would not be long until the website crashed, as per usual.

“S-studying! Stuff, you know?”

“Do I?”

“Will you stop? I’m a very busy person and I hate this- this waiting. I didn’t sign up for a life of debt to have shitty wi-fi.”

“Anxious to learn new things, aren’t we?” Lapis refreshed the browser on their computer, typed a course name and hit enter. It got in: the registrar had started working.

“Fuck, this semester’ll be hell. Got two 200-level courses.”

“No, dear, you got two 200 courses and one 300 course,” Lapis finished uploading their schedule then they leaned over, their hair falling over in Cairngorm’s lap. They took hold of Cairn’s mouse and refreshed their browser too, adding a course to Cairngorm’s schedule. “You’re taking advanced stats with me,” they announced.

“What? Fuck no, what the hell, gimme that,” Cairn bent over to grab the mouse but Lapis was faster. They curled over it grinning like a cat.

“You need 3 math credits and I need a friend to bug. You should thank me.”

“I’m shit at math, I’m gonna fail.”

“Not if I do your final.”

“I’m not risking that. Gimme that thing back, I need to drop this class before all the easy courses are full.”

Judging by the curses of the students behind Lapis, it was already too late. But Cairngorm wasn’t paying attention to them. They bent over the desk too, trying to move Lapis’ arms to snatch the mouse from them. Lapis drew back, all too amused, they raised the mouse over their head, perfectly aware of the height difference between them and Cairn.

“Aw, won’t you do it for me?” they pleaded.

“Hell no. And don’t make a scene. Gimme that thing.”

“It’ll be fun. Ghost’s coming too.”

“What?”

“You gonna say no to some cute sibling time?”

Cairngorm hesitated. Lapis knew they would not allow Ghost to spend that much alone time with Lapis Lazuli. That’s what made it a full-proof plan. When Cairngorm sighed, withdrawing, Lapis knew they had won this match.

“Why stats?” Cairn asked.

“It’s a general elective.”

“Who takes advanced statistics as a general elective?”

Lapis grinned, giving Cairn back the mouse so they could complete the registration.

“You, me and Ghost.”

----

Ghost Quartz was filing the last book returns for the day. As a library intern, they had access to the best Wi-Fi of the university and they had been able to file and submit their schedule just as the students in the computer labs cursed the website for crashing twice. Not that Ghost would need the advantage, anyway. Mortuary Science wasn’t the most popular degree on campus.

They had just picked up some books to reshelf when they heard Lapis’ voice chirping a “hello” to one of their colleagues.

“How did it go?” Ghost mumbled when they believed Lapis had come close enough to hear them. They didn’t turn their head to look at their friend but kept walking to the designated shelf.

“Cairn’s coming,” they sounded excited. Ghost hummed in agreement as they placed one of the books in place.

“Of course they would,” and they would regret it as soon as they checked the average grades for advanced stats. Somehow that didn’t seem to bother Lapis at all, despite how much they cared about their gpa.

“It’s going to be fun,” Lapis chirped.

Ghost had agreed to add the class to their schedule almost as soon as Lapis asked them to. Just like Cairn, Ghost too needed to fulfil algebra requirements even if, under other circumstances, they would have thought of taking one more biology class or something related to chemistry. Maybe something easy to make a though semester more bearable. But they couldn’t say no to Lapis. Still, they still wondered why an English Lit major would be interested in statistics. Was it just to prove that Lapis could pass one of the hardest classes offered by their university?  

“Why the sudden interest?” Ghost dared ask.

In a flash of long blue hair, Lapis was in front of Ghost, taking the last book from their arms. They cradled it as a treasure, holding it to their chest with crafted charm.

“Do I need a reason?” they smiled, tilting their head to the side. Ghost’s next words died in their throat.

-----

“So how did registration go?”

Antarcticite groaned, resting their chin on the palm of their hands.

“It was okay.”

“Missed a class?”

“No, no, I managed to enroll in all the courses I needed.”

“Then what’s on your mind?”

Antarcticite sighed, getting up. They glanced at the clock again and then at all the empty seats of the classroom. 9 pm wasn’t a great time for club meetings but what choice do you have when it’s this or getting your club canceled?

Lapis thought Antarc should be content: they had managed to keep the lit club alive with sheer willpower and reputation. But something was definitely bugging them, something unrelated to the club and that the lack of members made harder to repress. Still, Antarcticite wasn’t used to talk about their problems and Lapis found it useless to pry. If Antarc wanted to talk, they would.

Just as Antarc was clearing their voice, resigned to start a meeting with an audience of three students, the door opened and Cinnabar dragged themselves inside the room, puffing and panting as if they had run all the way here from the other side of the campus.

“Fashionably late, aren’t we?”

Cinnabar shot Lapis a murderous glance before letting themselves fall on the nearest chair to catch their breath. Antarcticite cleared their throat again, visibly more relaxed now that the audience number had increased.

“So, last time we thought of bringing back the literary magazine-“ they began. They had a way to pace around the room in very composed steps, barely gesticulating at all. Lapis found it amusing but not as much as the student to their right.

“You look fatigued, Shinsha,” they whispered, hunching over to get closer to them.

“None of your business.”

“Why, were you doing something exciting?”

“None of your business.”

“Someone exciting mayhaps?”

Cinnabar flushed a deep red.

“Will you just shut up?”

Lapis chuckled, brushing a lock of hair behind their ear.

“My, nothing to be embarrassed about,” then they stole a glance at Antarc, who was still pacing, so absorbed in the task at hand that they had failed to notice that no one was paying attention anymore. Maybe that was among the reasons these meetings were quickly declining in popularity.

“They need a fuck,” Lapis mumbled, still looking at them. It was a pleasure to see Cinnabar’s complexion becoming even redder from the corner of Lapis’ eye.

“Or a partner. Possibly both,” Lapis elaborated.

“What’d you even know?” Cinnabar managed to reply.

“Did I hit a nerve?”

“No thanks, I’m fine.”

“But you were all worked up when you got in. What happened?”

Cinnabar sighed, crossing their arms over their chest. They stole a glance at Antarc too, just to make sure they would not be offended in case they had noticed the ongoing conversation. Such a kind, surly soul, Lapis thought.

“My new roommate’s a moron.”

“Oh, tell me about them.”

“Like, an actual moron. Stupid freshman. Leaves their stuff everywhere, doesn’t turn off the alarm when I’m trying to fucking sleep, speaks in their fucking sleep,” Cinnabar ran a hand over their face, “Loud. So loud, all the damn time. And they always have this stupid grin on their face like life’s amazing and the world’s sparkly with rainbows and shit.”

“Aw, someone’s in love,” Lapis chirped.

“It sounds like Phos,” Ghost mumbled, chiming in on the conversation. Their eyes were still following Antarcticite and they had even taken notes, but somehow they had heard the whole conversation.

“You know them?”

“They take visual comm with Cairn. They came over to study a couple of times. They’re cute.”

“See?” Lapis chuckled, “they’re cute.”

“They’re a moron is what they are. If you like them so much adopt them and gimme back my alone time.”

“You still get plenty of alone time, dear.”

“No,” Cinnabar shoved their hands inside their pockets, scoffing, “I’m here with you.”

“Guess we’re just that awesome.”

Antarcticite chose that precise moment to meet Lapis’ gaze and realize that no one had been listening to a word they were saying. The room fell into a deeper, more uncomfortable silence. It was heartbreaking, really.

-----

When Lapis Lazuli finally got home, it was almost midnight. Antarc had kept them long after closing hours to lecture them on the goals of the lit club and its legacy, and how concerned they were about its current state. Then they insisted Lapis review the timetable for the following meetings on the spot, because it made no sense to postpone to tomorrow what you could do today.

Under other circumstances, Lapis would agree with them, but they were tired and they wanted to break the news about the stat course to Rutile. At least, Antarc had the consideration to drive Lapis back to their place.

The apartment was eerily silent when Lapis entered. They could hear the whirring sound of Rutile’s computer in the dark and wagered if their roommate had fallen asleep on the keyboard again. Lapis threw their coat on the couch and made their way to Jade and Rutile’s room, with a mind of waking up the latter if they were already asleep. But Rutile’s face peeked out from the kitchen’s door just as Lapis was halfway to the bedroom, giving them a fright.

“Where have you been?”

“My, this light isn’t flattering at all to your eye-bags. I was hoping you’d catch some sleep.”

“And have you jump on me in my sleep again? Jade’s resting, it’d wake them up.”

Lapis leaned their weight on the kitchen counter, playing with their hair to mask their impatience.

“So considerate.”

“Of course,” Rutile poured two cups of coffee and offered one to Lapis with a smile, “they’re way more fun to argue with when they’re nice and rested.”

Lapis accepted it to keep their hands busy but didn’t bring it to their lips. It was too soon in the semester to start injecting caffeine into their body in the middle of the night.

“It’s gonna be hard. Don’t they have midterms?”

“Precisely.”

Lapis assumed Rutile was studying for some kind of midterm as well because they emptied they cup with the resignation of a desperate student. When Rutile reached for the pot and started refilling their mug, Lapis put down their own and cleared their voice.

“Anything you wanna ask me?” they offered.

“Anything you gotta tell me?”

Lapis chuckled.

“You really thought I’d chicken out?”

Rutile glanced up from their mug for a second, a flash of surprise crossed their eyes and it soon turned into amusement. They began to laugh, breathless, hoarse chuckles.

“God, you really- you did it?”

“Told you I would,” Lapis smiled but some part of them wished Rutile would take this more seriously, give them the recognition they deserved.

“Oh my God,” Rutile wiped their eyes with the back of their hand. Med students really were hysterical, Lapis thought. “Who knew you’d be so desperate?”

“Envious already? Wanna dare me to take film production next?”

“Damn. Calm down. Who do you think you are? You didn’t even do anything yet.”

“I enrolled.”

“Doesn’t prove anything. I said ‘romance.’”

“Pretty sure you said ‘fuck.’”

Rutile wheezed, leaning back on the counter. They glanced sideways at Lapis, their lips parted as if to say something witty, but in the end they gulped it down and offered their roommate a smile instead. A few thoughtful seconds trickled by and Lapis fought to keep their demeanor neutral.

“You’re just a kid,” Rutile mumbled eventually.

Lapis’ perfectly relaxed expression cracked. They frowned, their nails digging marks in their palms.

“So were you,” they said. Then they turned their back, ignoring whatever reply Rutile might come up with, and walked to their bedroom with brusque, rushed steps.

Chapter Text

The clicking of Euclase’s heels resonated faintly among the buzzing sounds of the corridor. As finals week approached, more and more students would be booking meetings with the professors and there was hardly a moment of peace both in and out of classroom.

Euclase should be content. After discussing a few book chapters with a student who had troubles with her final, they were free to go. Free to go back to their empty apartment. They would once again busy their mind by grading exams and ignoring the fact that their birthday was just a few months away. One more year spent doing absolutely nothing of relevance.

Every year they promised themselves to at least buy a cat to keep them company, but it only made them feel worse and in the end they did nothing of it. Maybe this New Year’s resolution would be to forget about it once and for all.

“Euc! Going home already?”

Euclase turned their head and offered a smile to Alexandrite, only to be surprised to see they had company. Their eyes dropped almost involuntary to Alex’s partner, Chrysoberyl, and to how their arm was wrapped around Alex’s waist. No matter how much work they had at the conservatory, they always managed to spend some of their time with Alexandrite. It was irritating. They made it look so effortless.

“Yes. I’ve got a few more projects to grade.”

“Lucky you. I’m stuck here till 9. Why do I always get the evening classes?”

“The president must know you’re a night bird, love,” Chrysoberyl commented.

“’m not,” Alex leaned into Chryso, pouting when their action was rewarded with a bright, playful smile.

“A cute, nerdy night bird.”

As usual, Euclase could do no nothing but stare as their colleagues kept up their banter, completely comfortable with having each other in their space. There was such a simple familiarity in the way Chryso would hold Alex, their wedding rings shining unobtrusively in the artificial light of the hall. Euclase diverted their gaze.

“Uhm,” they excused themselves, “I should probably get going.”

“Oh, sure, we’ll see you tomorrow,” Alex said. 

“Don’t overwork yourself,” added Chrysoberyl.

“I won’t,” Euc smiled again and waved them a polite goodbye.

They made their way around campus slowly, taking the long way out just to waste as much time as possible. They wished the board would let them give evening classes too, but there were only so many hours Euclase could work.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves on the lemon trees, the perfect excuse to linger in the courtyard a little longer. A small group of students was chatting in a corner of the garden, smoking and ignoring the new campus rule that had banned it from university grounds.

Euclase considered walking to them and tell them to put out their cigarettes, but somebody calling their name diverted Euc’s attention.   

“Professor Euclase?”

Euc turned their head to meet the smiling eyes of a tall, blue-haired student.

“Yes?”

“Hello, professor, good evening. I was walking that way and saw you by the lemon tree, all alone, and I thought I could come say hi.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I recall your name.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. I don’t think we’ve met before.” The student brushed a lock of hair behind their ear with a swift, elegant motion. “My name’s Lapis Lazuli and I’ll be your student next semester.”

Well, this was unheard of.

“Pleased to meet you. Is there something I can do for you?”

Lapis Lazuli tilted their head in a childish way. They started playing with their hair again, twisting it around their fingers just below their chin.

“Well, this is a little embarrassing,” they mumbled in a honeyed tone, “but I have to take Advanced Statistics with you next semester and everyone says it’s very hard. Do you have any tips for me, professor?” they cooed.

“Well, it’s Doctor, actually. And yes, the course can be demanding,” Euclase ventured, “but if you apply yourself I’m sure you’ll do very well. What’s your major?”

“Business Economics.”

“Then I’m sure you’ll find the course work familiar. Most topics are already covered in Introduction to Statistics and Calculus I, we’ll just be going over them in more detail. As long as you do the readings and the exercises, it’s going to be okay.”

“You really think so?” Lapis Lazuli curled their fingers around each other, as one would do when praying. Euclase felt they were trying to elicit some compassion from them; it made them uncomfortable.

“Of course. And if you need specific help, you can come see me during office hours.”  

“Thank you so much, Doctor. I feel impossibly relieved already.”

“Glad to be of assistance. Now, if you’ll excuse me I was on my way home. I suppose I’ll see you in class…”

“Oh, of course, do pardon me,” Lapis Lazuli moved aside, crossing their arms behind their back, but they soon reclaimed Euclase’s attention, invading their personal space yet again. “May I offer you a coffee to make up for keeping you?”

Euclase stiffened. They wound their scarf around their neck, taking a step backwards.

“It’s no problem, really. I should get going. Good luck with your finals.”

“Thank you, Doctor. I trust I’ll see you soon.”

Euclase turned their back and crossed the courtyard with long steps. The weight of Lapis’ stare clung to them until they were well off the campus.

----

Lapis peered around the doorframe looking expectantly at Rutile. Their roommate was bent over a 4 inches thick textbook, scribbling down notes in their cryptic handwriting. They turned a worn-out page, blatantly ignoring Lapis. The younger pouted, crossing their arms over their chest.

“Don’t you have anything to study?” Rutile acknowledged their presence with a monotonous tone, without raising their eyes from the book. They circled a couple of words in pencil.

“No.”

With a soft groan, Rutile ran a hand through their hair. They sighed, pushing their chair away from the desk.

“I’ll give you three minutes,” they conceded, resting their chin on the top of their hands.

Lapis grinned, they walked to their roommate and leaned their hip on their desk, careful not to touch any papers and elicit Rutile’s rage.

“Ask me if I have news,” they beamed.

“Why? I already know the answer.”

“Now I remember why you’re such a boring person,” Lapis mumbled, crossing their legs.

“No one’s forcing you to have this conversation.”

“I talked with them,” they blurted out.

Rutile answered just to amuse them.

“And how did it go?”

“Splendidly. The old geezer couldn’t take their eyes off this pretty face.”

“I thought you were trying to charm them, will looking at your face be enough?”

Lapis fought not to blush.

“Will you shut up? I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?”

“I hate you so much.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

Then their conversation was interrupted by the metallic sound of keys turning inside a lock. Jade walked inside the apartment cradling a bag of groceries, mumbling something against the cold. They arched an eyebrow as they absorbed the scene of Lapis and Rutile talking.

“Are you two arguing again?” they inquired.

“Why don’t you join us and find out yourself, old man?” Rutile said.

Jade’s face twitched in embarrassment.

“What did you just call me?”

“So age has already got to your hearing, I see. Maybe I should take a look?”

“We’re basically the same age!”

“That white hair over there says otherwise,” Rutile teased them, pointing at a precise spot on Jade’s scalp, which Jade rushed to cover.

“Why must you- ugh, why are you like this?” they spluttered.

Lapis’ enthusiasm dropped. They wouldn’t get anymore of Rutile’s attention now that they had someone else to bicker with and it irked them.

They made a mental note to go back to campus to kill some time and maybe find someone else to talk to. It was a pity they had no more papers to write: they should really make an effort to learn how to study slower. Or maybe take yet another extra class. Maybe film production.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. Later,” they said. They didn’t need to look at Jade to know they were blushing.

-----

Phos took another bite of their tuna sandwich, accentuating their pout with each, dramatic munch.

“It’ll be okay,” Ghost tried to comfort them, placing a flat, awkward hand on their shoulder.

Their friend groaned again expressing their deep sorrow and then slouched on the table, laying their arms in front of them. What was left of the sandwich lay forgotten between their fingers, in perilous balance at the edge of the desk. Cairn might have something to object about it, but Ghost let it slip.

“I’m so awkward,” Phos whined, “why am I wo awkward. They hate me.”

“I’m sure they don’t. You don’t look…,” they thought about it for a second, “hateable.”

Uncaring of the neologism, Phos launched themselves at Ghost, who was quickly realizing that Phos had no issues with physical contact whatsoever.

“Ghost, you’re such a good friend! I’m so lucky to have you. Please help me.”

“H-how?”

“I don’t know! But please help me anyway; I’m too cute and young to be a lost cause.”

Ghost furrowed their eyebrows in thought. Since the day Phos had confided them about their crush, Ghost had never had any reasons to doubt that it would go well. Not with all the visits Phos paid to the writing center, where Antarcticite worked. But apparently, those meetings had been more embarrassing than anything.

Cairngorm was right; perhaps Ghost really was of little help when it came to relationships. As Phos untangled themselves from Ghost’s frame, they made a mental note to check up a couple more manuals about human behavior, just in case. It pained them not to be able to help.

“Well, uh, what is it that you want?” they asked Phos, hoping to understand the nuances a little better.

“A functioning brain that can read and write proper English. Every time I see Antarc I want to combust and disappear.”

Interesting.

“Maybe Antarc can be a little intimidating.“

“A little?” Phos hid their face inside their hands, “the way they looked at me last time… Ghost you should’ve been there. No wait, on second thought I’m happy you weren’t. I couldn’t bear it if you started thinking of me as a moron too.”

Ghost brought a hand to their chin, thinking. They hadn’t known Antarc for long, the main reason they had joined the lit club, of which Antarc was president, was because it was in desperate need of members- and because Lapis had asked them to as secretary.

“I think Antarc comes off as intimidating because they take everything seriously. But they’re actually very passionate about a lot of things. They also like people who make an effort to better themselves.”

“Like, as in people who actually make an effort? Or just nerds?”

“Oh,” Ghost realized, “I guess you could say Antarc is a little bit of a nerd.”

“Awww they’re so cute!” Phos squealed in defeat, hiding their face between their arms, “This isn’t fair.”

“Why don’t you ask them to tutor you?”

“Nooo,” Phos whined again, “What if they say no? Or what if they say yes? God no, it’s too scary, I wanna be with them but that’s too scary.”

“Do you believe Antarc is scary?” Ghost asked, genuinely curious. They were learning so many things about Antarc from Phos. They had never pondered the possibility that Antarcticite might be scary; it made them rethink their whole character.

“I don’t know? I mean, I don’t mean it in a bad way, I mean, I don’t know!”

Phos looked at Ghost, as if what they had just said was their most eloquent explanation in life so far.

Ghost furrowed their eyebrows.

“I don’t understand.”

Phos groaned again, slouching on the chair.

“It’s just-“ they began, “They’re always so… so precise. And cool. And they’re calm and severe all the time. I mean, they call me Phosphophyllite! I can’t even write my own name and I’ve had it for 18 years! And they call me Phosphophyllite, and they can write it too! Beautifully! You should see their handwriting and the way they write. They get this concentrated frown on their face, but not like they’re scrunching over the paper, they’re actually very relaxed and cute, they just go like this,” Phos waved an imaginary pen in the air, imitating what Ghost assumed was the way Antarcticite would write on a piece of paper, “like they always know what they’re doing and there’s no way they could do it wrong and it looks like the easiest thing in the world until they look at me with their awesome eyes and they go ‘Did you understand?’ And I’m like ‘No, I’m gay and I’ve been staring at your hand instead of paying attention and also you’re handsome and I’m a potato please love me’ and argh- I’m rambling again! Ghost, I’m rambling, please stop me.”

“As far as Lapis told me,” Ghost recalled with perfect serenity, unfazed by Phos’ monologue, “Antarc comes from a very poor family. They might be an orphan, I don’t remember very well. So they graduated with scholarships. That could be why they take school so seriously?”

“You mean they did it all by themselves? They paid for stuff and college all alone?”

Ghost Quartz nodded, happy to be of help.

“Oh my god,” Phos breathed out, softly, “They’re… gosh, they’re so awesome.”

“Would this still make them scary?” Ghost inquired again.

“No. No it’s just me. I’m such a mess. Of course they’d be so serious about stuff, it makes sense. Ghost! Why didn’t you tell me sooner? They must think I’m more of a moron than I really am, now!”

“You never asked,” Ghost apologized quietly.

It didn’t make a difference for Phos. Their shoulders slouched again in defeat, Phos leaned their chin on their hand, in a pose that looked anguished and resigned at the same time, still clutching what was left of the sandwich in their other hand. It pained Ghost to see their new friend like this.

“Maybe if you show a little effort as well they could appreciate it?”

“In what? I can’t write. I’ll never learn. And there’s no way I can impress them now, after what you said. They’re way out of my league. I’m- I’m a potato! I’m just a stupid, long-legged potato. I got two brain cells and they’re occupied full-time crying over Antarc. My dumb brain’s useless!”

And then, as Phos kept on whining, an idea started to take form in Ghost’s mind.

“Don’t you like books? Or something that Antarc likes?”

“I like to hate my stupid self. We have that in common.”

“Why don’t you join the literature club?”

“Yeah, why don’t you join that bunch of losers so you stop living off my food?” Cairngorm grunted walking into the room. To make their point clearer, they grabbed Phos’ half-sandwich and made to throw it away, but Phos held to Cairn’s fingers, clutching their hand with force.

“Let go, you weirdo.”

But Phos’ other hand grasped Cairn’s wrist and started pulling.

“With what heart would you abandon a friend in need? Can’t you see I’m desperate?”

“Go be desperate somewhere else.”

“Gormieeee, you and Ghost are all I’ve left!” Phos wailed.

Ghost offered their sibling a sympathetic smile when Cairn met their gaze, but they would not help them get rid of Phos’ attention.

“Lapis is in the club too,” Ghost specified.

Cairn averted their eyes, suddenly very conscious of how they had just called them a loser.

“And it’s actually a good idea, I think,” Ghost continued, “Antarc’s the president and the club is in lack of members. I’m part of the club too, I can help you in any way I can.”

“And what… do I have to do to get into the club? Write stuff?” Phos asked.

“Read a few books, mostly. And listen to Antarc as they speak.”

“That I can do! I can do it all day long.”

“Gay,” Cairn mumbled.

“The meetings are over for this semester, but they’ll resume in January, when classes start again. You could come with me.”

With a smile that could rival the sun itself in brightness, Phos lunged forward again, crushing Ghost Quartz in a hug that made their limbs start going numb.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” they chanted, “I owe you!”

Ghost smiled as Cairngorm rolled their eyes.

“You’re welcome,” they mumbled.

Chapter Text

Lapis Lazuli was not in a good mood.

Patience was an art they had yet to master the finest extents, but as their low heels clattered sharply against the white tiles of the corridor, Lapis knew for a fact that the limits of their current level had been reached.

It was almost three weeks into the semester now. Three weeks of calculated efforts.

Long before this semester started, Lapis had taken the time to evaluate each move. The way their plan would unweave itself around the person of Euclase, the way each thread was meant to play its minuscule part, the way all of them would entangle to form a perfect tapestry. A beautiful, skillfully crafted picture that Lapis could feed their ego with and slam in Rutile’s face. And yet, for all of those threads to fall into place, Lapis needed to pull the first, most important string and push it to its proper place in the pattern. They needed Euclase to return their attention.

It didn’t really matter how, Lapis had a different moves planned for each position Euclase would take, but Euclase’s pawn needed to move. Lapis Lazuli had been trying for three weeks now, but the geezer was obstinate and Lapis was running low on patience and strategies.    

They looked to their right, where Ghost and Cairngorm were half-bantering, half-chatting about the class that had just ended and that had signed Lapis’ umpteenth failure. How Lapis wished they could complain about their situation, but that was a card they weren’t sure they could play yet. So they gulped down their frustration, tuning their ears to Cairngorm’s comments, ready to latch onto a complaint to let loose of some of their anger.

“-and that exercise too. It’s just- it’s tons of percentages about different shit just piled up till it doesn’t make any sense at all. What do I care about some random plane dude and their fuel tank? I’m not gonna waste my life building airplanes,” Cairngorm grumbled.

“It’s interesting,” Ghost commented.

“Yeah, well, good for you. Still not gonna calculate all that stuff. Mean weight my ass.”

“I think probability is interesting.”

“Do my homework then.”

“I thought Lapis was doing your homework.”

“Yeah,” Lapis nodded absentmindedly upon hearing their name.

“Why do you even care about this course?” Cairn asked them, “it’s just boring. And hard. You want plain boring, you go to classics. This is just a different level of self-hate.”

“Classics aren’t boring.”

“Well, Antarc is. And they’re a what? Latin? Naked dudes major?”

“Thought you’d be interested in naked dudes,” Lapis commented.

“Not the statues kind.”

“What about the ones at the mortuary?” Ghost inquired.

“Ugh, creep! Keep that to yourself.”

Ghost clutched their notebook to their chest.

“I wish they’d let us go. But they don’t take undergrads there. Only med students.”

“Lucky for Rutile,” Lapis mumbled, their mind was still going over the lesson that just ended, scanning words and gestures in hopes that they had missed some important sign from Euclase.

“Still,” Cairn resumed, “I think you’re just jeopardizing our whole semester. But okay, I guess, just know that if I fail this class I’ll kill you.”

“I’m doing your homework, am I not?” Lapis’ irritation was finally coming to the surface despite their best efforts, “Ask Shinsha to tutor you if you don’t trust me.”

Cairngorm grimaced.

“Ugh no, the weirdo.”

“I don’t wanna tutor you either, don’t worry.”

Lapis turned their head, surprised to meet Cinnabar’s eyes. They wondered how much of the conversation they had eavesdropped on, with that bad habit of theirs of creeping up on people.

“Cinnabar, what a pleasure,” they greeted them.

“Pleasure’s all yours.”

Cinnabar was an easy target to make fun of, maybe Lapis’ pent up frustration could finally find some outlet Ghost and Cairn wouldn’t notice.

“Join us? We’re going to the library,” they offered.

“Got stuff to do.”

“Is that what you call your new roommate, now?”

When Shinsha blushed one of their signature reds, Lapis felt immediately better about themselves.

“Can you not?”

“Why? I’m having fun.”

“Well, you’re wrong. I’m just their tutor.”

“You are?” Lapis looked at Ghost, their go-to information source for all things Phosphophyllite. Ghost nodded, while Cairngorm feigned disinterest.

“Phos’s failing precalculus, so I asked Cinnabar if they could help.”

“How can they fail precalculus? That’s high school stuff,” Cairngorm grumbled.

“Why did they ask you? I thought they lived with Cinnabar,” Lapis said.

“Unfortunately,” Cinnabar added.

Ghost shrugged, as if they couldn’t see a contradiction.

“I’ve known them longer. Plus, Phos didn’t know Shinsha’s major.”

Cinnabar raised their eyes to the ceiling.

“Ohh, I see,” Lapis cooed, “You kept it a secret from them cause your big, nerd brain’d scare young, innocent Phosphophyllite off. That’s so considerate. Please tell me when’s the wedding, I need to find you a good suit, you can’t go in those rags.”

“Ask Antarc,” Cinnabar cut them off, quickening their pace, “I’m already their roommate and their tutor. I believe this is more than enough, don’t you?”

Lapis turned to Ghost again, their eyes shining with a new source of frustration.

“Why wasn’t I updated on Antarc’s situation?”

“You never asked.”

“That’s cause they’re a lost cause, I-“

No. They had been a lost cause, now. With their beige grandpa sweaters and white shirts, 6am alarms and zero drinking, zero flirting policy. Lapis had even believed Antarc to be aromantic or something. The idea that Antarcticite might manifest an interest in a specific someone, and of that kind, had been simply foreign. It had fallen out of Lapis’ scope of predictions.

For once in their life, Lapis was at loss for what to say. They felt their anger slip out of their limbs in soft, unrelenting waves. The desire to tease Cinnabar and have them call Lapis an asshole or to flirt with Cairn to friendzone them again was simply gone, leaving a hollow sensation inside Lapis’ chest. Their throat felt tight.

Antarc and Phos.

Even somebody like Antarc was able to get a romance and here Lapis was, walking the fine line between ridicule and desperation, alone. Failing. Losing time. The prospect of winning their bet slipping away from their fingers with each week of zero progress.

Why were they failing? Why wasn’t Euclase behaving? They should be interested by now, they should be charmed, they should be pissed, annoyed, embarrassed. Anything! Lapis had tried everything they could.

They could already hear Rutile’s sadistic laugh as they put their scorn into words: “I told you. You have no idea what you’re doing.”

Lapis always knew what they were doing.

At this rate, Lapis would lose. They would lose. They would. They weren’t taking this seriously enough.

Lost in their thoughts, Lapis failed to notice that Cinnabar had left and that Lapis had fallen behind of both Ghost and Cairngorm, who were now chatting a couple of steps ahead of them.

Lapis stopped in their tracks, feeling dizzy.

“Excuse me,” they breathed out, “I forgot I must stop by the finance office. I’m afraid I can’t come with you today.”

Ghost mouthed a quiet “Oh.”

“We can come with you?” Cairn offered, crossing their arms over their head.

“Or wait for you,” Ghost specified.

“Oh, no, there’s no need. You two go ahead, I’ll catch up with you later,” and, without waiting for a reply, Lapis turned and walked away with long, swift steps.

In a matter of minutes, they reached one of the terraces of the stats building, welcoming the fresh air and the dark sky with relief.

Lapis always thought best when they were alone. Bugging other people was a great way to come up with new ideas or fragments of plans, but mulling by themselves was the best way to put the pieces together into something coherent, foolproof, brilliant. Something that would work.

Without thinking, they tightened their grip around the railing. They had underestimated this challenge and Euclase. They hadn’t made a sufficient effort to learn their character and pick apart their weaknesses and soft points. They had dived into this on the wave of Rutile’s failure and the belief that it happened because they possessed the charm of a groggy, sleep-deprived maniac who could only talk in boring quacks. But now that Lapis Lazuli forced themselves to think about it, Rutile also lacked the beautiful, blond hair that Padparadscha’s current partner had.

It never crossed Lapis’ mind that Rutile’s failure could be due to Padparadscha. Had Rutile taken the time to learn that their once professor had a weakness for blonds? Had Lapis taken the time to make sure Euclase liked long blue hair?

Lapis’ tactics had all been centered around playing the charming pet, because it worked in the past, it was easy, it was fun, it didn’t expose the true Lapis more than they were comfortable being exposed. But had they taken their time to be sure that it was really the best approach? Maybe they should ask Cairngorm or anyone else Lapis knew had a crush on them. What had made them fall? What would make Euc fall?

Lapis had jumped to conclusions. It was their biggest flaw: getting caught up in their own assumptions to the point of overlooking what was right in front of them. But luckily enough there was still time to make up for their carelessness. To succeed, however, they would need to spend more time with Euclase. Way more time than 1.15 hours twice a week. They’d need to study them carefully.

Despite that lucky meeting before winter break, that boring geezer had been virtually unapproachable outside of office hours or class. Lapis had the prof’s schedule committed to memory by now, but they still couldn’t seem to find a moment to meet with Euclase casually, outside of a professional environment, which made getting to know Euclase on a personal level all the more challenging.

There a clue was, Lapis realized. Euclase was reserved. Cold. Did it stem from a personal choice or from inadequacy? What did the rest of the faculty know about them? Were they shy? Aloof? Or maybe they genuinely liked their privacy; something that Lapis could relate to, actually. 

Discarding this last thought, Lapis picked up their phone, typing a quick note in their agenda.

Things were finally starting to fall into place. They’d need to pay a visit to the office of the registrar tomorrow morning.

--------

At first, Euclase had thought that Lapis Lazuli wanted to secure an easy A by becoming some sort of teacher’s pet.

To be even fairer, Euclase had tried to drown the memory of that awkward first encounter in maybe one too many glasses of wine during New Year’s eve.

It wasn’t like they had many more things to keep them company anyway and they still didn’t loathe themselves enough to come back home, in the country, to ask for companionship with their tail between their legs. Sensei and the others had better things to worry about and Euclase would rather not concern them further.

They might not be the most experienced teacher at campus, or of their department even, but Euclase had taught just enough classes to recognize a problem student when they saw one. When the new semester started again, they felt a pang of pity for Lapis Lazuli. How naïve could a young student be? Or how desperate. But Euclase had a reputation for being uncompromising and if there were a few accomplishments they could be proud of, being a fair teacher was among them.

Their class was hard, but not impossible. It was just. The top 20% of the students could still get an A. Lapis lazuli could be in that 20% if they worked hard enough. Euclase would not penalize them for trying the easy way out. Young people could do silly things.

Euclase had still been of this advice when they began the first Advanced Statistics class of the semester. As they welcomed the students, their eyes had scanned the crowd looking for a familiar face with motherly indulgence. There was Lapis Lazuli, sitting on Euclase’s left, third row of seats. They were chatting with what, Euc presumed, were their friends. They had looked at ease and not as unquiet as they had been before winter break. Maybe that small accident had been finals week’s fault after all. Anxiety had a way to mess up with students who didn’t know how to properly rationalize their time.

Putting on their glasses, Euclase had begun to take attendances, giving their routine explanation about course policy and grades. When Lapis Lazuli’s name came around, the student offered a small, innocent smile, and Euclase had assumed that everything had been finals week’s fault after all. They looked like any other normal student. And that had been Euclase’s biggest mistake.

Since that day, Lapis Lazuli never missed a day of class. Accompanied by their two friends, they were always the first to come, earlier than Euclase even, offering them a feline smile when they sat by their desk. They had moved to the front of the class, second row, a more central position. And since the class was small and the first row was usually empty, it was like Lapis had crafted themselves a forefront, private niche between them and Euclase, where the rest of the class wasn’t welcome.

More than once Euclase had been surprised by Lapis holding eye contact with them just for a little longer than what was socially comfortable, until Euclase had to divert their attention. And more than once Euclase tested Lapis’ preparation, trying, despite their efforts at being fair, to find them at fault, to find a logical reason to call them out. But Lapis’ tongue threaded around complex topics and systems with ease, jumping among concepts and asking sharp questions just a second before stumbling.

They would volunteer to solve problems, walking to the whiteboard with swift steps, brushing a long lock of hair behind their shoulder, still gazing at Euclase beneath long, dark lashes. They thrived in class participation. They would raise their slender hand often, lean forward on their desk like a tired cat, making Euclase’s uncomfortably aware of those extra two or three centimeters of proximity.

And they would always leave class last, their friends waiting for them outside of the room, and only after stopping by Euc’s desk to ask them something.

“That was a really great explanation, doctor, I’ve never heard anyone explain combinatorics like that.”

“Can I come by during office hours? There are a couple of problems I can’t seem to solve by myself.”

“I’ve been fighting with Chapter 3 for the best of two days. Oh, you have another class right now? It’s okay I can walk with you as we talk.”

“Awesome class today, doctor, how do I love the way you explain things. Have you always had an interest for statistics? Is there something else you like quite as much?”

Euclase had never considered themselves an attractive person, it was just the umpteenth part in a huge pile of insecurities that Euclase found pointless to dig up. Now they had a new uneasiness to add to their rich puzzle of fears. No student had ever attempted a trade of favors with them, not of this kind, and Euclase had no idea what to expect.

The better part of them knew that they should report this situation before it grew into something more complicated. But all they could seem to do in their uneasiness was pretend none of this was happening.

They ignored Lapis and all of their attentions, even if a smaller part of Euclase was sickeningly dependent on it, even at the expense of Euclase’s peace of mind and Lapis’ best interests. In the end, Lapis Lazuli wasn’t doing anything illegal and their flirty behavior might just be their usual self and not something they had crafted specifically for Euclase.

There was also the chance that Euclase was seeing things and misinterpreting friendliness. They were by no means an expert in this: relationships had always looked equally appealing and terrifying in their eyes. There was just so much to lose by putting yourself on the line like that. Maybe Euclase’s loneliness had finally turned into a full delusion.

These were Euclase thoughts until the morning Lapis Lazuli knocked on their office’s door again, like they had done almost every day since the semester started.

They had their signature smile plastered on their face, but their eyes shone with a different gleam than usual. They had news.

Chapter Text

“And what about the pink suit,” Phos beamed “like, is that symbolism too? Cause that’s pretty gay if you ask me, or wait, wait, what if that’s a metaphor, like the red door thing with Shakespeare? Is it a metaphor?”

Phos’ enthusiasm was almost enough to make them fall off their chair. Ghost chuckled softly as Antarc brushed a lock of short hair behind their ear, only to have it fall in front of their eyes again. They leaned closer to Phos to reread the passage.

“It’s- it’s hard to say,” they began, “I’ve never thought about Gatsby’s pink suit in that way, but I guess it’s an interesting point? Do you know aberrant decoding?”

“Abr- aberrant- uh, why, of course. And by of course I mean no, please explain, oh knowledgeable one,” Phos joined their hands over their head in prayer. Antarcticite’s cheeks flushed a light red as they cleared their voice.

“Maybe you will, I think you’re supposed to study some semiotics in graphic design. It basically means that a message can be interpreted in a variety of different ways. Even ways that weren’t intended by the sender. Or the writer, in this case. And they’re all equally valid, for the most part.”

“So I can say that Gatsby and Nick are canon and I’d be right?”

“More or less. You can say that in your own experience, based on your own cultural background, a man in a pink suit can be decoded as a signifier for homosexuality. It’s legit. But you’d need to take the historical momentum into account as well. So if you want to write a paper about Gatsby’s pink suit as gay iconography, you have to research 1920s fashion first. The same applies to queering characters.”

“Oh wow,” Phos breathed out, their eyes had never left Antarc during their explanation, “I think I’ve found my senior thesis. You’re a genius.”

“Not at all. It’s just a literary theory. But,” Antarc trailed off, as if unsure if they should continue, “If you’re interested in queer readings,” they mumbled, “there’s a whole literature on that. I could- I could lend you a few books.”

“Please,” Phos’ eyes were shining, “that’s so great. Hell yeah, I’m interested. But I’m not that great with big words…”

“It’s no problem. We could read something aloud during the next meeting… or I can read them to you.”

“That’s it. I’ve found them. My senior thesis and my guardian angel. What did I even do to deserve you?”

“I’m your tutor, I’m here to help,” Antarc shifted their gaze, “Actually, Professor Alexandrite is giving a guest lecture about Queer Characters next week, with the Queer Alliance club. We’re thinking of joining them as a club. You could come…”

“You mean Dia’s club? I had no idea, of course I’m coming! Why didn’t Dia tell me? We’re roommates! Hey, Shinsha!” Phos called out.

Cinnabar raised their eyes from their book, where they had been doodling anime characters for the last half an hour.

“Did you know about Dia’s club’s thing on gay characters?”

“Yes?”

“Goddammit! What’s this, a conspiracy? Are you coming? You could speak about your fanfics, it’d be great!”

“I-I’m not doing that,” Cinnabar spluttered, “And stop yelling.”

“Aw, don’t be shy. That one about the two anime ladies was very good.”

“Shut up! I’m never letting you near my computer again.”

“Nooo, I need to know if they’ll kiss in chapter 14.”

Ghost listened to the exchange with quiet interest. They bookmarked the passage with Gatsby’s pink suit while the other members of the club kept talking about fanfiction.

This marked Phos’ third meeting with the literature club and Ghost was pleased to see that they were holding up pretty well with the general atmosphere of the group.

Even if they struggled with reading more than a few pages at a time, Phos had quickly showed an adoration for stories. They could come up with the most creative interpretations and they were always open to hearing about new readings and views.

Antarc had been ecstatic about a new addition to the club and insisted the chapters be read out aloud during the meetings upon hearing about Phos’ dyslexia*. They even went as far as having their advisor provide a discount code for Phos to use for audiobooks.

Phos had brought a waft of fresh, chaotic air. Ghost had never seen Antarcticite behave so nonchalantly. A new trait to add to their character, Ghost mused.

“I think Tom and Wilson’d be cute together,” they chimed in on the conversation, scribbling down a couple of notes about the color pink. If every interpretation was more or less equally legitimate, they wondered what Scott Fitzgerald would think of Ghost’s interpretation of Daisy’s gate closing as a death omen.

“Does anyone die in this book?” they wondered out loud.

“That’s a spoiler,” Cinnabar answered, leaning their chin on top of their leg.

It was fascinating the way Cinnabar couldn’t quite seem to sit straight on chairs. “They’re like a cat,” Lapis had told them at some point. Ghost squinted their eyes, focusing on the almond shape of Cinnabar’s. They were quite hard to see beneath the cover of red hair, but one could still grasp the resemblance. Yes, Lapis was right. As usual.

“I don’t mind,” Ghost smiled, “I’m curious.”

------

“Would you say that pink suits are gay?” Ghost wondered out loud.

Cairngorm answered with their eyes glued on their phone.

“Is a gay person wearing it?”

Ghost thought about it for a second.

“I don’t think so.”

“Then no,” Cairn scoffed, “that’s queer-baiting.”

“Oh,” yet a new reading. Decoding texts truly was a never-ending pursuit, Ghost realized. That explained the existence of majors such as literature and classics. Studying would become pretty redundant if every book had only one possible interpretation.

“If you consider it queer-baiting, you’re assigning pink suits a queer connotation, Gormie,” Lapis’ voice interrupted Ghost Quartz’ musings, “Which means you believe the opposite of what you said. Always the contradictory, little minx.”

Cairngorm grumbled something about not being ‘little’ as Lapis ruffled their hair. They chuckled in reply, ignoring the complaints.

“How was the meeting?” Lapis inquired.

“Interesting.”

“Why weren’t you there?” Cairn pointed out.

“It conflicted with my appointment with the queen of England. Taking over the world takes a toll on my free time, but somebody has to do it.”

Cairngorm wheezed.

“Someday I’m gonna find out you were serious the whole time.”

“Why, I’m always serious, Gormie,” Lapis smiled before redirecting their attention to Ghost. “What did I miss?” they asked in a honeyed tone.

Ghost’s mind went over the events of the club meeting, looking for relevant bits about Antarcticite and Phos and the other members.

“Cinnabar writes fanfiction,” they mumbled to themselves as they recalled the conversation. Lapis Lazuli was unperturbed.

“Of course they would. Is it an interesting fandom, at least?”

“I don’t know.”

“A pity. Anything else?”

“You were blabbering something about queer readings,” Cairngorm said.

“Oh, yeah,” Ghost recalled, “We discussed Gatsby’s pink suit and Antarc mentioned a lecture with the Queer Alliance club. They said we should come as a club.”

Lapis’ eyes gleamed with interest.

“Splendid. How are you finding the Great Gatsby so far, dear?”

“I like it,” Ghost mumbled, “the different interpretations are interesting.”

“Right? There’s never a correct answer when it comes to stories. Everything can be rewritten and presented in a new way. It’s how books stay alive.”

“It’s what I’ve been thinking,” Ghost smiled, happy to see that they were on the same wavelength of Lapis. Even if they weren’t as well-versed as them in literature, Lapis’ comment gave them hope that they too could learn.

“Characters especially are fascinating,” Lapis added, “sometimes they shift and move just like real people, you have to unveil their secrets.”

“The guest lecture’ll be about characters, now that I think about it,” Ghost recalled, “Antarc mentioned queer readings.”

“Why, how fortunate. Would you like to attend?”

“Yes. I’d like that.”

“Same goes for me, even if I’m still not sure if I can spare an afternoon. But Gormie here can keep you company.”

Cairngorm raised their eyes from their phone. They had dissociated the moment the conversation had taken an intellectual detour and they had fallen a couple of steps behind Lapis and Ghost.

“What?”

“I distinctively recall you mentioning naked dudes among your interests not even two days ago.”

“This has nothing to do with it! They’re a bunch of nerds, hell no.”

“Cairn, sweetie,” Lapis murmured brushing a lock of hair behind Cairngorm’s ear, “you really need work on expanding those tiny horizons of yours, yes? And being a nicer person. Would you abandon your sibling and me just because you’re scared of a few big words?”

Cairngorm diverted their eyes, shifting on the balls of their feet.

“Ugh.”

“So you’re coming?” Ghost asked Lapis.

“Maybe. Is your new friend coming too?”

Ghost nodded.

“Antarc invited them and they seemed interested. I think they’re enjoying the book too.”

“You wanna spy on Antarc and the moron?” Cairn raised their eyebrow.

“Nonsense. I’m pursuing a degree in literature if you didn’t notice. And I happen to be quite interested in what Professor Alexandrite has to say.”

“Are you taking their philosophy class next semester?” Ghost inquired.

“Oh, no, but they always raise such good points,” they smiled, something enigmatic in the way they pronounced their sentence.

----

Not even fifteen minutes later, Lapis’ phone lighted up, beeping with a new email.

Smirking, Lapis Lazuli swiped the screen and tapped on the mailbox icon.

“Dear Lapis Lazuli,

In light of recent developments, I am writing to inform you that I would like us to have a private talk in my office as soon as possible. Please let me know about your availability so we can schedule an appointment.

With regards,

Dr. Euclase, PhD, CFA

Assistant Professor of Statistics and Economics”

Lapis must have fished their phone out of their bag with too much enthusiasm because Cairn’s eyes were on them again. They were obsessed, Lapis thought, hopefully the same would happen to Euclase too.

“What’s up?” Cairn asked, feigning disinterest. Lapis finished typing their reply, fingers running quickly across the screen.

“School stuff.”

Hiding their disappointment, Cairngorm didn’t press any further. They turned a page of their book and highlighted the first two words of the title before dropping the highlighter again with a loud groan. They’d never graduate with that attitude.

“Hard?” Lapis inquired.

“Boring,” Cairngorm answered.

“Why don’t you study with Phos? You share three classes.”

“They’re a moron. Loud.”

“You sound like Cinnabar.”

“Well, they’re right.”

Lapis picked up their own books, ready to leave.

“They’re a moron with two smart tutors. You could learn a thing or two from that.”

Cairngorm diverted their eyes, a little sheepish.

“I don’t need myself another tutor. I got you.”

Lapis’ body went rigid for a second as they put on their jacket. They were glad they had their back to Cairn. Cairngorm didn’t say anything else and Lapis bent forward to ruffle their hair, before the moment had enough time to become awkward.

“You should meet more people,” they mumbled.

“Damn. Phos does this too,” Cairn said adjusting their hair behind their ear stretchers, “and puts their finger inside my gauges. I don’t need more people.”

“Aw, that’s so cute!”

“Tsk. Where’re you going?”

“Sudden meeting with a professor. Pray I’m not in trouble.”

“As if. I’ll pray they kick you outta this school.”

“As they should,” and, waving Cairngorm goodbye, Lapis made their way out of the library.

It was a good thing that Lapis remembered the time of all of Euclase’s classes. Because they knew for a fact that they would be teaching Statistical Climatology in about ten minutes, which meant that they would still be in their office, just about to leave, and that they wouldn’t expect Lapis to burst into the room with so little notice. And Lapis had no intention of checking their email to read about Euclase asking them to come later.

They switched their phone off altogether and quickened their pace. They already knew what this meeting was going to be about and they had to play their cards well. Surprises, they were finding, were the only thing that seemed to pull that stick out of the geezer’s butt.

“Dear Dr. Euclase,

Thank you for your email.

It’ll be my pleasure meeting with you. I’ll be in your office in a minute.

Sincerely yours,

Lapis”

Lapis tapped lightly at the white door of Euclase’s office and waltzed in without waiting for a reply, showing off their brightest, most confident smile.

“May I?” asking for permission sounded almost funny.

Euclase jumped a little from behind their desk, where they were quickly shoveling papers inside a light brown bag.

“I’m teaching in about,” they glanced at the clock, anxiously, “7 minutes. I need to have a serious talk with you and we don’t have enough time now. I sent you an email.”

Lapis walked to their desk in quiet, stealthy steps, picking up one of the papers that had fallen out of Euclase’ bag.

“My phone died, I’m sorry,” they said offering the paper back to them, “but I’m free now. I can accompany you to class, maybe help you carry your things. I’m strong.”

Euclase scoffed, their fingers trembling almost imperceptibly as they tightened the buckles of their bag. When they raised their gaze to meet Lapis’, their eyes were unusually firm, to the point that Lapis had to repress a pang of uneasiness.

“I will be very serious with you,” Euclase began, “You’re not a business major. You’re not a student in need of homework assistance. You lied to me, and I don’t like liars.”

Lapis forced themselves to be steady. This was okay, this was how they had envisioned their conversation, they could do this, they would.

“I am not a business major,” they confirmed, “and I don’t need to be tutored. I have a 4.0 gpa and your class is challenging, I’ll admit, but not hard.”

This seemed to hit a nerve in Euclase, as if their pride was taking a direct hit. Fascinating. For a second, they looked more upset than angry.

“I know about your gpa,” Euclase went on, “I checked your record.”

“Was it interesting?”

“What game are you playing?”

Lapis’ attempt to bring the conversation back on lighter grounds failed, but this too was to be expected. That was what they wanted, after all: more information. Lapis wagered their chances, gambling on how this conversation could evolve, gambling on Euclase’s character from the new bits and pieces that Lapis was witnessing now, for the first time.

Childish. Prideful. Quick witted.

Reluctantly but unabashedly direct. Interesting.

“Can’t you see?” Lapis said, the words coming out with unexpected sincerity, “I want to get closer to you.”

Euclase scoffed.

“I’m not giving you a higher grade based on sympathy, and I’m not going to advise for a student who attempts the easy way out. In fact, I’m very tempted to report this whole situation to the College Board.”

Bitter. Lonely.

Disappointed.

“You won’t,” Lapis said.

“And why would that be? Should I remind you of this school’s rules?”

Scared.

Intrigued.

“Because you’re bored,” Lapis gambled again and the look that crossed Euclase’s face was their reward, as satisfying as hitting jackpot.

“And because you like me,” they concluded, too amused and too high from the game to stop now.

“A-are you insinuating-“ and here they were: embarrassment, shame, fear. Lapis wouldn’t let Euclase finish the sentence and put distance between them again.

“I am ambitious,” they interrupted, “I have plans for my future and I always get what I want. You were the same. You still are and that’s why I need you. I like you, as a teacher and as a person, and I want to know you better.”

Euclase diverted their eyes from Lapis just long enough to glance at the clock. They would be late, Lapis knew, and they would blame it on Lapis. Which was amusing, but also meant that Euclase had one more reason to keep thinking about Lapis until their next encounter.

“If you expect me to act in unprofessional ways you’re wrong. I’m giving you one last chance before I report this situation to the College Board. You can go to the registrar again, drop my class, and we’ll forget any of this has happened.”

“There is no need, because I won’t make you do anything unprofessional. You said you hate liars; here I am, coming clean like a repented sinner. I am sincere and I’m going to be sincere with you,” they caressed the last word, savoring the sweet taste of progress, “professor.”

“And I quite like your class,” they added on second thought, “it’s hard to find a challenging course outside of honor classes. I’m having fun,” and so are you, they thought, “so as you can see there is no need to trouble the College Board. It’ll be our little secret and I promise I’ll behave,” they giggled, “but it’s late, I’m terribly sorry for keeping you, I wouldn’t want to ruin your immaculate record. Have a nice class,” and with a swift motion, they stepped away from the doorway, leaving the way free for Euclase to cross.

Euclase walked out of the door without a second word, their expression impossible to crack even if Lapis liked to think that they were intrigued.

Riding the last bit of their wave of excitement, Lapis murmured an “I’ll see you in class,” and, when Euclase disappeared down the stairs, Lapis found themselves clapping and grinning like a little kid.

Chapter Text

Lapis Lazuli rushed down the stairs, feet barely gracing the steps, high on giddiness. They didn’t see Jade climbing up the stairs from the opposite direction until they bumped into them, almost knocking both of them to the ground. An absurd amount of papers and the entire content of Jade’s bag rained on the tiles and down the steps.

“What the hell?” Jade complained, placing a hand on the wall to hold themselves.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” Lapis hurried to pick up the papers that Jade dropped, too happy to notice that they were still grinning, “here, I’ll help you.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry, just- that’s dangerous. You shouldn’t run down the stairs like that, what if you injured yourself?”

“Relax, I’ll be safe.”

“Always running, always rushing, this school is full of weird people,” Jade grumbled as they put an alarming number of pens and stationery back inside their bag.

“Weren’t you rushing as well?”

“I’m late!” Jade justified themselves, “the prof was late so we started the exam late and then the student gov meeting finished late too cause the freshmen always have too many questions and now I’m late for the newspaper thing and- ugh! The finance office! I need to go to the finance office too! Argh!”

“Relax,” Lapis said, handing Jade back their papers, “it closes at 7, you got time.”

“Oh, thank God. What are you doing here by the way? Literature’s on the other side of campus.”

“Just a meeting with my new advisor.”

“You changed your advisor?”

“Why, people change advisors all the time.”

“Do they? I don’t know. I thought you liked yours. Uh, what’s their name again-“

“Rutile helped me reconsider. Actually, you should tell them. Professor Euclase is quite a remarkable teacher and I plan to spend as much time as possible in their company.”

“Uh? Why would Rutile- and doesn’t Euclase teach in stem?“

“And didn’t you say you were running late? I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

“Oh damn, yes! The meeting!” Jade exclaimed and then stormed up the stairs, holding their bag to their chest, “see you at home!” they shouted.

Lapis waved them goodbye as if through a haze, forgetting that Jade could not see them. They resumed their walking, humming under their breath as they jumped from one step to the next.

They were dying to tell Rutile. Jade had been quite surprised to see that Lapis had changed their advisor and Lapis hoped the same would apply to their other roommate. As far as Lapis was concerned, Rutile had never gone as far as getting Padparadscha to be their advisor in hopes to woo them, and that left Lapis confident that their own plan would not fail.

Still, a small part of Lapis was afraid that telling Rutile right away could somehow jinx it. Not that they were superstitious or anything, but wouldn’t it be so much better to tell them after Lapis was one hundred percent sure that Euclase wouldn’t call them out?

It would go well. Euclase had reacted well to the news and they had not looked utterly disgusted or outraged by Lapis’ proposition. From what little Lapis had been able to glean about Euclase from Alexandrite, their new professor would think twice before raising a potential scandal.

“Professor Euclase is quite the valid teacher and I plan to spend as much time as possible in their company”

And yet, the words Lapis had told Jade just a few minutes ago kept reechoing in their mind. There was something off about the way they bumped against the corners of Lapis’ consciousness.

I plan to spend as much time as possible in their company.

Despite Lapis’ best efforts, their good mood began to diminish. Spending as much time as possible with Euclase no longer depended on Lapis alone. They had exposed their hand, gambling everything they had, and, while they were convinced that it had been the logical thing to do, it still didn’t give Lapis a 100% confidence of success.

There was still a chance Euclase might report their little exchange to the College Board. Or refuse to be Lapis’ advisor, which was more likely.

As much as Lapis hated waiting, it was the only thing they could do at this point. The pieces on the chessboard had started moving and the next move was up to Euclase.

-----

Antarc will be happy, Lapis thought as soon as they stepped foot inside the class.

Sitting in small groups and munching on the chips that had been financed with the last money of the club’s treasury, there were no less than twenty people. Which made today’s guest lecture arguably the most successful event of the literature club in years. Or, at least, in the two years Lapis had known it.

Indeed, Antarcticite looked radiant, marching from desk to desk, placing leaflets down in that constipated brand of enthusiasm that was so characteristically Antarc-like. It probably didn’t graze their mind that three quarters of the people had come due to an interest in Diamond’s club rather than literature, but Lapis didn’t think it was time to burst Antarc’s bubble yet.

They scanned the crowd with a quick glance, looking for familiar faces, and their eyes narrowed on Phosphophyllite’s bright hair. They were chatting with Ghost and Cinnabar while Cairngorm was nowhere in sight. Quite the nerd date, Lapis thought when Phos raised their head to look for Antarc in the crowd.

“Ghostie,” Lapis waved, walking toward the group, “how is it going, darling? I see you’re in good company,” and, in lack of Cairn’s, they ruffled Cinnabar’s hair instead.

“Fuck you,” Cinnabar protested, adjusting their beanie back in place.

“And a good-day to you as well. Where’s Gormie?” Lapis inquired, crossing their arms on top of Cinnabar’s head. Cinnabar shoved them off, cursing under their breath.

“Canteen,” Phos answered, “‘I ain’t suffering an hour of nerding without some caffeine’” they quoted, making quite the skillful impression of Cairn’s voice.

“Silly Gormie,” Lapis commented, “now there’s no way they’ll be able to fall asleep when Alexandrite starts talking.”

Phos snickered, while Ghost’s lips formed a quiet “oh” before curling in a mall smile.

“I’ve heard great things about your fanfics, Shinsha. Will you read us something today?”

“Hell no, I’m just here for Dia.”

“Aw,” Lapis cooed.

“Diamond seems really excited about this,” Ghost explained.

“Oh, I feel them,” Lapis said absentmindedly, their eyes were focused on Alexandrite, who had just walked into the room. Lapis waved them a polite hello, reminding themselves to thank them at the end of the lecture.

Antarcticite exchanged a couple of words with Diamond, who indeed looked overly excited. They were dressed even more brightly than Phos on their best neon-postapocalyptic days. Practically clad in rainbows and pastels, their holographic jacket kept shining in the dark even after Antarc turned off the lights and started the projector. It made quite the contrast with Antarc’s beige grandpa aesthetic.

Antarcticite adjusted their tie in a rare display of anxiety and almost hesitantly turned their head toward the back of the class. Phos offered them two thumbs up and Lapis could not repress a soft pang of melancholy when Antarc’s lips twitched in response.

Cairngorm made their entrance only twenty minutes after the event had begun. The screen was blinking with pictures of Doris Day in fringes and cowboy hat and the sliver of light coming from the door split it just in the middle, separating Calamity Jane from the rest of the saloon’s occupants.

Lapis followed Cairngorm’s steps, pretending to ignore their presence, and made no comment when they dropped themselves on the seat right behind Phos, uncaring of the noise.

The screen flashed to a frame of Thelma & Louise and Diamond began to gesticulate furiously while Cairngorm grumbled a soft “Ugh, not again.”

“Ten bucks that Dia’d give a presentation only on that,” Phos snickered.

“Twenty says they did already,” Cairn said.

“You don’t wanna meet Dia on that ground,” Cinnabar mumbled.

“Nooo, don’t tell me I just lost money I don’t have,“ Phos whined.

“It’s not Thelma and Louise but it’s… a presentation,” Cinnabar lowered their voice.

“What, what? I wanna know,” Lapis chimed in the conversation.

“They keep it in a drawer inside their room. 300 slides, printed out. In color,” Cinnabar added.

 “I thought it was a legend!” Phos exclaimed.

“Nope, it’s very much real,” Cinnabar said, “300 slides of Johnlock conspiracies, with pics and everything.”

“You’ve seen it?” Lapis asked.

“And survived to tell the tale, yeah,” Cinnabar shifted their gaze, as if embarrassed about what they were about to say, “They actually raise good points,” they mumbled, “it’s just- ugh, it’s 300 slides. Printed out. I felt like my soul was about to leave my body just out of sheer exhaustion.”

“Aw, you do have a soul, then,” Lapis snickered, “but that’s interesting. Speak about dedication.”

“Yeah, I’m impressed. And terrified,” Phos mumbled.

“You should be,” Cinnabar commented.

“Antarc is going to speak about Arthur Conan Doyle too,” Ghost recalled.

“Tonight?” Phos asked.

Ghost nodded with serenity, as if unaware of the danger posed by an overly enthusiastic Dia.

Cinnabar grumbled a “ugh,” covering their eyes with their hands.

“Sweet,” Cairngorm commented, “we’re all gonna die.”

-----

Phosphophyllite slammed their book shut for the third time in as many minutes, banging their hands on the table.

“I got it!” they exclaimed, earning perplexed looks from the other people in the student lounge.

Cairngorm smacked Phos’ head for the third time in as many minutes.

“Cut it out,” they grumbled.

“Ouch! You’re just envious of the speed at which my superior brain can process infallible plans.”

“Yeah, your brain’s pretty darn fast at spitting out bullshit. But no.”

“But this-“

“And I’m not interested in hearing yet another stupid idea. I’m trying to study here,” they pointed out holding up a book. It would have made for a valid point be it any other person or any other book, but its immaculate pages told a different story, in which Cairngorm was apparently persuaded that, if they just kept looking at the same page long enough, its contents would magically be absorbed into their brain. Phos couldn’t blame them, it wasn’t like they hadn’t tried too.

“Gormie no, hear me out,” they pleaded snatching the book from Cairngorm’s fingers, “you know that tiny lemon tree? The one on the third floor terrace?”

“Don’t even think about it,” Cairngorm shut them off.

“You didn’t even let me finish this time!”

“It’s cheesy! And how’re you gonna get Antarc up there in the first place? Classics and Comm aren’t exactly close.”

“Cairngormie,” Phos began, “my dearest, most trusted, beloved bestest friend-“

“No.”

“-so compassionate and kind and smart. I know that from the pinnacle of your compassionateness you would never leave your cute friend in need, so you’d have no problem telling Antarc-“

“No,” Cairn said, crossing their arms over their chest, “Forget it. I’ll have no part in any of this corny shit. Keep your gay to yourself.”

“Gormieeee,” Phos whined, slouching onto Cairngorm as the latter desperately tried to pry themselves away.

“Ugh, what did I even do wrong? Just ask them out and get this over with.”

“So. Heartless. You think that’s easy?? I’ve been trying to flirt with them this whole time, they won’t even spare me a second glance!”

“Must be cuz you’re ugly.”

“Excuse me? You’re ugly! Have you seen this face?” Phos protested in an outburst of self-love, only to get back to whining the moment they began thinking of Antarc again, “they still won’t say anything. I’ve tried it all. I’m too damn cute to be treated this cruelly. They smiled at me yesterday, you know? Before the presentation. One of those damn beautiful smiles when their face goes all alight and angelic and perfect and they look so flawless and I feel like I could melt into a small puddle and just lay there on the ground, like a hot ameba with a single brain cell that can reflect their light forever and- wait, where was I going with this? I had a point.”

“You know what? Maybe you’re right and they hate you.”

“Cairn! How- how could you say something so horrible and so insensitive? I thought we were friends.”

“Think again.”

“Augh,” Phos cried out, “I’m so alone! Who’ll come to rescue this lonely ball of lonesomeness? Who’ll save this poor, friendless soul in need?”

“Literally just ask them out, it’s that easy,” Cairngorm sighed, picking up their book again.

“Says the one who asked Lapis out countless times.”

Cairngorm dropped the book in their lap. It looked like they were flushing, thought it was hard to tell.

“Wh-what? Who told you that? And that’s different, that’s a completely different thing.”

“How so?” Phos cooed, “You’re sooo head over heels for them.”

“And they’re not, simple as that. Peace.”

“Aw, my poor, poor unloved-back friend,” Phos said wrapping their arms around Cairn, practically engulfing their small frame, “they don’t deserve you anyway. But wait, do you mean that I should ask Antarc out cause it’s not like with you and Lapis and they might actually like me back?”

“Idiot,” Cairn mumbled, “did you see the way they look at you? Just thinking about it makes me wanna vomit rainbows.”

“Gormieee!” Phos squealed, “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me since I’ve known you. And that’s saying a lot.”

“Yeah, well,” Cairngorm grumbled, adjusting their hoodie back in place, “don’t get used to it.”

Phos paid them no mind, their brain reverting back to mischievous plans mode.

“But how should I ask?” they mumbled, “I can’t talk to them! I get too anxious, I’m only good at staring in adoration.”

“Creepy.”

Phos pondered about it for a second, mulling over inconsequential ideas for the time necessary for Cairn to pick up their book again.

“A-Ah!” they exclaimed, snatching it from Cairn’s fingers for the umpteenth time. Cairngorm cursed under their breath.

“Cairngorm!” Phos said, pointing their finger at them, “my most trusted, beloved, dearest etc. friend. Stop scowling for a second, come here,” they said grabbing Cairn’s shoulders. With unwavering precision, they started adjusting Cairn’s hair, trying to arrange it in a mock of Antarc’s hairdo, no matter how Cairn’s shorter bangs refused to fall in front of their eyes.

“I don’t like this,“ Cairngorm mumbled, perhaps too exhausted to fight back anymore.

“A little to the right, yes,” Phos mumbled, pulling at one of Cairn’s locks and earning an ‘ouch’ from them. “Now pretend you’re shy,“ Phos went on, “And good-natured. And soft. And handsome. Pretend you’re perfect like Antarc.”

“Why am I putting up with this?”

“Cause you love me. And I paid for your coffee,” Phos said, “Pretty please?” they added, joining their hands in prayer.

Cairngorm rolled their eyes.

“Fine. But I don’t make any promises.”

“Yes! Thank you! I owe you my life! Just act like Antarc, give me some feedback, tell me you love me or that you wanna elope with me, I don’t know. I’m desperate.”

“Okay, okay. Creep”

Phos took in a big gulp of air, trying to steady their breathing. They looked at Cairn, trying to picture Antarc in front of them but unsure where to go from there.

Cairngorm and Antarcticite looked nothing alike. For one, Cairngorm was much shorter and Antarc was fair skinned, not to mention their attitude and the way they dressed. Cairn was loose sweatshirts and ripped jeans where Antarc was, well, probably the only person at campus still able to pull off cream pullovers like it was 1945. And now that Phos thought about it, even Cairn’s hair wasn’t perfectly on point, the bleached roots still a shade too warm- not to mention that Cairn was all but looking at Phos in a good-natured way.

Phos clenched their fist, telling themselves to focus. They closed their eyes, forcing themselves to overlap Antarc’s face on Cairngorm’s, and it must have worked because, all of a sudden, Phos’ heart started pounding inside their ears and they were no longer able to find their words.

“Phos?” Cairn asked after the silence had stretched out for a couple of minutes.

“It’s okay, g-gimme a minute. Oh gosh. Oh boy. Oh gosh, how should I go about this?”

Cairngorm scoffed, crossing their arms over their chest.

“Just make it quick.”

“Okay. Okay,” Phos inhaled deeply, then began their monologue, “Antarc. Wow, uh, fancy meeting you here, how coincidental. How-how is it going? I- uhm, I was wondering- I mean, it’s been so nice hanging out with you guys and learn about literature and I’m super grateful for the help with school. Thinking about writing a paper doesn’t give me a panic attack anymore, you know? Which is… good, I guess. But yeah, uhm, hi. Hope you’re doing okay. I was wondering if maybe, like, you were possibly kind of thinking more or less the same and, uh, how do I put this? Like, you- you do so much stuff and you’re so amazing and like, I, I mean this is my opinion of course, but I’d fight everyone who thinks you’re not amazing, and I, as I was saying, I really have a good time when you explain things to me and spending time with you is so great and it always makes me feel like time goes by too fast, cause I could literally listen to you talk all day and so, like, if you don’t mind and you’re not completely and utterly repulsed by the idea, I was wondering if you’d maybe like t-“

And then Phos’ rambling trance was interrupted by an abrupt slap on their shoulder.

“Yo, kiddo.”

Phos squealed, opening up their eyes. Padparadscha was standing in front of them, hands on their hips and a serene grin on their face.

“What the actual- I just lost ten years of my life!“ Phos protested.

“Sorry, pipsqueak,” Padpa apologized, dropping themselves on the couch next to Phos, “Mind if I sit? I’m just outta class. What’re you kids up to?”

“Cairngorm was helping me ask the love of my life out on a date and you ruined it! Now, since I’m gonna be alone forever, I’m gonna move to your house and carry out the life of a depressed, bohemian loner, waking up at 5pm and drinking cheap beer for breakfast.”

“Oh, wow, better let you know Yellow copyrighted that lifestyle ages ago,” Padpa mumbled, crossing their arms behind their head, “Wouldn’t want to throw you into some legal fuss over cheap alcohol,” they chuckled, tilting their head toward Phos, “so, love troubles again? Is it Antarc?”

Cairngorm scoffed.

“Of course it is!” Phos cried out, “You think I’d have more than one love of my life? I’m desperate here, offer me some wisdom.”

“Sorry, sorry. Some people’re into that, y’know,” Papdaradscha snickered, “But okay, lemme see… Why the desperation this time?”

“They don’t have the guts to ask the nerd out.”

“Cairn!” Phos said wrapping their arms around their chest, in a defensive position.

“Oh, I see. Aw, no reason to fret,” Padpa mumbled, ruffling Phos’ head, “you’re a smart kid. You’re kind and you’re pretty darn cute, too, if you take it from an old pal. No reason they wouldn’t adore you.”

“Yeah, in fact they do,” Cairn commented.

“They do?” Phos asked.

“I told you they do! You have amnesia or something?”

“No but I like it when you say it. Do they?”

“Yeah, they do.”

“Oh gosh,” Phos squealed.

Padpa chuckled, crossing their arms over their legs.

“See? Just ask ‘em nice and straight. Be yourself and it’s gonna be alright.”

“But it’s haaaard,” Phos whined.

“Well, life’s hard,” Padpa conceded, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun, too. Or win a heart or two,” they added, rising to their feet. “Listen, how about I treat you kids to Chinese so you can find some courage among all the noodles? I was just ‘bout to go home and it’s my turn making dinner.”

“Sneaky, you don’t have to cook,” Phos commented.

“Right?” Padpa said, holding up their hand.

Phos high-fived them.

“I’m in,” they said.

“Me too,” Cairn joined.

When they walked out of university, the sky was a deep, dark blue, the air prickling Phos’ nose with the fizz of late winter. Phos didn’t realize how much time they had spent fussing over Antarc. Days sure were running fast, it looked like yesterday when they had stepped foot inside college for the first time, their roommate ready to kill them on sight for overstepping on the wrong side of the floor.

Now that same roommate read them out their fanfics and listened to them when Phos mumbled nonsense about the cool classics senior they had a very serious thing for. Phos’ stomach started doing twists and somersaults the moment their thoughts went back to Antarc, but it wasn’t too unpleasant. They just needed stop thinking about this, like Cairn said. They’d find their words when the time came and they’d wing it just like Phos did with everything in their life.

Chapter Text

Euclase finished running the marker over the whiteboard, writing down the last numbers of the date in neat calligraphy. From their position, they could still gaze at Lapis Lazuli from the corner of their eye.

The young student had been particularly good at hiding any sign of the conversation they had shared a few days ago and yet there was something in their posture, in the way they would play with their hair more often, that betrayed a hint of fretfulness.

Euclase smiled warmly at the class, savoring the feeling of purposefully avoiding Lapis’ gaze.

“We only have three more meetings before the first midterm so I urge you all not to miss class. As always, I’m available via email or during office hours if you have any questions. I’ll see you on Monday,” and with that they turned their back to the class to put away their papers.

They knew Lapis Lazuli would linger until the very last moment and Euclase had a mind to keep them waiting as long as possible. They shuffled the assignments they collected at the beginning of class with serene slowness, eyeing at Lapis from beneath their fringe.

When Euclase heard Lapis give up and get up from their seat, ready to leave, they decided to grace them with their attention.

“Please, stay,” they said, “I’d like to have a word with you.”

Lapis Lazuli stopped in their tracks, curling elegant fingers around their bag strap.

“Of course,” they smiled, “but I seem to remember you have class right now?”

“Indeed,” Euc conceded, remembering the first and only time they had been late for a lecture, “but we have a guest lecturer today so my presence isn’t required. You’re free on the other hand, so would you please follow me to my office?”

“Of course,” Lapis repeated, their smile perhaps a little less confident.

They followed Euclase in silence, their shoes barely making any sound against the grey tiles of the pavement. Euclase pondered their possibilities, then decided to resort to one of their few natural talents, surprising themselves when they felt the need to engage in small talk with a student.

“The temperatures are finally rising again, haven’t you noticed?” they began.

“I believe so,” Lapis said, “but I’m not particularly fond of spring.”

“Are you one of those people who prefer cold weather?”

“I don’t much care for temperatures, but it matches my aesthetic better. Long, puffy sleeves don’t always go well with the summer sun.”

“What about flowers?” Euclase wondered, “Flowers are nice.”   

“’Loveliest of lovely things are they on earth that soonest pass away,’” Lapis said, probably quoting a work that Euclase did not know. This irked them.

“Wouldn’t that match your aesthetic?” they pressed further.

“My, you’re already thinking about my aesthetic. How do you like it?” Lapis replied.

“I-“ Euclase glanced back at Lapis Lazuli, pushing back their annoyance for the way Lapis would always reply to a question with another question. Euc registered again their student’s attire, the way their long, blue hair would fall below their waist, draping around the puffs and laces of their cream shirt and vest like a curtain, full of convoluted thoughts. It gave them an otherworldly mannerism, as if Lapis had just come out of a romantic painting, the last immortal survivor of a time long past made of evenings spent playing the piano and composing witty poems about the state of the ruling class. But what did Euclase know.

They diverted their gaze quickly, “I believe you should wear whatever you like,” they ended up saying, disappointed with the dullness of their statement.

“Yes, wise words,” Lapis seemed to pay it no mind, “and are you fond of donning grey, doctor?”

“I don’t really care about clothes.”

“Oh, my, better leave that sentence in a neutral context. What about the weather, then? You seem to enjoy measuring the last breaths of the dying season.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way. I’m a meteorologist. Seasons are but the result of the Earth’s orbit around the sun and the Earth’s axial tilt relative to the ecliptic plane. They’re just a handy time division.”

“Such an analytical mind. But didn’t you say flowers are pretty just a second ago? Or that it’s about time the temperatures be rising? I believe I’m speaking with a summer lover right here, how coincidental.”

“Well, summer is nice,” Euclase conceded, fascinated by the manner Lapis lazuli weaved their way around a conversation, “it reminds me of home,” they mumbled and then regretted mumbling, but Lapis didn’t press the topic further.

They kept following Euclase to their office with docility, mumbling a soft tune under their breath when the conversation faded to nothing and Euclase’s mind began to spin and travel back to hundreds of kilometers away.

Slamming their bag on the desk with perhaps a little too much force, Euclase forced themselves to focus on the matter at hand, keeping their expression serene and neutral.

“Please take a seat,” they offered gesturing to a chair. Lapis brushed a lock of hair behind their ear, sitting perfectly straight. If they were feeling any kind of discomfort, it was hard to tell, which was a little disappointing. Up to the very last, Euc had hoped to stir some emotion inside Lapis’ tortuous mind.

“I heard you participated in a queer alliance event recently,” they began.

For a split second, Lapis looked taken aback, as if they weren’t expecting that topic.

“Why yes. It was in collaboration with the literature club, of which I’m part. Is it bad?”

“Not at all,” Euclase smiled, “I know for a fact that prof. Alexandrite’s lectures are extremely interesting. They possess an admirable richness of character and knowledge, truly.”

“Yes, they do.”

“Which brings me to the first reason I called you here,” Euc went on, fixing their eyes on Lapis’, “I hold my colleague in high esteem, but I hold the person of Alexandrite in an even higher esteem. Don’t you think it’s sad that you’d even think of using them for whatever little game you’re still playing?”

“I-“ Lapis stuttered.

“I trusted we had ourselves a deal. You’re a college student, smart, talented and held in high esteem by your teachers, and yet here you are, indulging your inner child. Curiosity is an admirable trait and questions are the foundation of growth, but the next time you feel like peering into my personal life you should come ask me. No reason to hide innocent curiosity, after all, right?”

“Of course,” Lapis mumbled, their face a mask of serenity.

“Excellent,” Euclase smiled, clapping their hands, “now we can get to the second part of this conversation.”

“There’s no need,” Lapis said, gripping the chair with both hands, making as if they were about to stand up, “I’ll be on my way.”

“My, how fretful,” Euclase mumbled, “you should invest more time on thinking about your future. All these extra classes you’re taking are completely unrelated to your career goals.”

The young student stopped in their tracks, confusion crossing their eyes.

“Also, a mind like yours is wasted on literature,” Euclase added, “don’t you think it’d be better if you put it to use for something that’d benefit society more? Or for something more profitable? You’re still in time to switch majors.”

“I’ll put my mind to use for something that’ll benefit my own damn self,” Lapis mumbled, “and my own self loves words, as you’ll have noticed. Nothing else?”

Now it was Euc’s turn to be taken aback. It was the first time they saw Lapis display the ghost of an emotion that didn’t look carefully chiseled. Such a selfish little minx.

“Yes,” Euclase went on, “I predicted you’d say something like this, so I sketched out a few possible career paths,” they said putting a few papers out of a drawer, “assuming you’re still set on working in academia, otherwise I’m afraid you’ll have to give me more time to prepare.”

“No, I- yes, I still want to. But what is this?” Lapis asked, accepting one of the papers Euc was handing them, “What are you doing?”

“My job,” Euclase replied, “I’m your advisor, right?”

----   

Lapis lazuli kept looking at the ceiling, blue eyes wandering across patches of white and brushstrokes in a monotonous succession of seconds.

They had their arms crossed over their stomach, mindful to keep their breathing as steady and silent as possible. They didn’t want to contrast with the pristine quietness of their contemplation.

White. Cheap. Dusty. Sandy. Those were all good words to describe the ceiling.

Lapis was good at observing things. The ceiling of their room for example could appear new to an unexperienced eye, but Lapis knew exactly where to look to find out the little corners where the paint was starting to chip. After all, they had spent countless hours staring at it over the years.

Lapis Lazuli was good at observing things and good at finding things worth observing. More than anything, though, they were good at putting these two talents together and create something new. There was nothing special about it, but one day Lapis Lazuli had noticed that people would awe at Lapis for it, they would call them genius, brilliant, shrewd. They would give them attention. That made Lapis feel special.

People like Cairngorm or Jade, for example, thought of Lapis as some sort of unpredictable mastermind only because they did not spend time themselves refining the art of connecting the dots. People like them were lazy, gullible, but still mildly satisfying to impress. They made for a nice public.

Then there were people like Ghost and Antarc who were simply hard to read. They too would call Lapis brilliant, but not explicitly. They would notice Lapis’ art, even admire it at times, or be wary of it, but they didn’t give it too much weight. They focused on Lapis as a person. People like them were more amusing to impress, relaxing to be around. 

A third category of people was those that Lapis found exciting to tease, like Rutile or Cinnabar. Those were shrewd in their own way, they possessed the potential to develop the craft of noticing and connecting details as much as if not better than Lapis, threading around concepts and feelings to reach their goal. They were sharp, and yet, for reasons Lapis could assume but not understand, they did nothing of it. These people chose to carry out their lives through different means. It was fascinating and dealing with people like these was straight up fun. It was challenging because they knew the art and they would notice it. They would judge Lapis, be suspicious of them, but exactly because of this, Lapis could see these people as equals.

Lapis’ eyes shifted to the top left corner of their ceiling again, locating another chip of paint.

Then there was Euclase and Lapis’ mind was fighting to allocate them within these set categories. One way or another, the name Euclase kept changing place, waltzing from gullible to good-natured, brushing the category of fun and then falling out of it with a mocking, condescending smile.

Because Euclase had seen right through Lapis’ hand and outsmarted them at their own game. Their soft-natured attitude, their aloofness and the way they’d fall for simpler tricks had thrown Lapis lazuli off, but Euclase was exactly like them. They had to be. They must.

Lapis let their thumb rub soft circles over their stomach as their mind reached the same conclusion again and again, no matter how many times they twisted the variables and shifted the focus of the single words. They breathed in and out, forcing their heartbeat to keep a steady rhythm despite their excitement. Euclase was like them. Not an equal, but a match. Something Lapis had not encountered yet.

It irked them to no ends. The easiness with whom Euclase had seen through what now looked like clumsy child play. Euclase’s condescending smile, the way they had thrown Lapis off only to lecture them about career paths and grades. It was like Euclase’s walls had gone up again after that first talk in their office, and now Euclase was prepared to predict and counter anything Lapis would throw at them. Lapis had been careless. It was irritating; though it was absolutely interesting.

Lapis would thank Rutile if only that didn’t mean waking up to Rutile’s smug grin everyday till graduation. But in the midst of Lapis’ boredom, they might finally have found something else than studying to busy their time. Euclase was new. They were fun. And Lapis was absolutely dying to know everything they could about their opponent.

Lapis Lazuli was still contemplating their next move when the door to their room creaked open and Rutile stepped inside. Lapis spared them a quick glance from below their glasses, registering Rutile’s mismatched clothes and the way they were leaning their weight on the doorframe, as if afraid to step inside Lapis’ room completely, or just in a construction of disinterest. Then Lapis’ attention went back to the ceiling and to the storm of thoughts inside their head.

“Are you feeling depressed?” Rutile ventured.

“I’m contemplating the vanity of human existence,” Lapis mumbled.

“Nice, tell me if you find something.”

“I’ve found that living is the specks of excitement that shine over the surface of the ocean of boredom.”

“Should I write that down?”

Lapis sighed.

“What do you want?” they asked.

Rutile shifted their weight on the other foot.

“Dinner’s ready, if you wanna eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Okay,” Rutile conceded, “I’ll rephrase: dinner’s ready, come eat.”

“You can eat with Jade,” Lapis said.

“You know Jade likes it when it’s all three of us. They say it looks like family.”

Lapis’ lips twitched in disappointment. Rutile had the potential to come up with a better excuse.

“And how do we love to make other people happy, uh?”

“Don’t,” Rutile stopped them.

“Truth hurts.”

“Dinner’s ready,” Rutile repeated, “Do whatever you want. Like always.”

“Uh, uh.”

Rutile didn’t say anything else. They lingered for a couple more seconds, as if mulling over words or just mourning lost hours of sleep. Lapis waited until their roommate’s hand was on the doorknob again.

“Rutile?” they mumbled.

“Yes?”

“How was the midterm?”

Rutile’s shoulders dropped down in a gesture that looked of both exhaustion and satisfaction.

“Tiring” they smiled.

“You’re a smart quack,” Lapis stated.

“I know.”

“Good.”

The silence stretched out again, lighter than before. Rutile let go of the doorknob with a soft gesture, they turned toward Lapis again.

“Are you okay?” they asked.

“I’m splendid.”

“Listen, I know you’re still set on that stupid bet and, honestly, I don’t even want to know, but you’ve been acting odd lately. I thought you were supposed to be a bitchy bastard.”

“You wound me,” Lapis retorted, “I’m a bitchy royal.”

Rutile chuckled, shaking their head as if Lapis’ words were enough for them to believe that things were alright. Then they turned their back to their roommate and left, leaving the door open so that Lapis would have to get up either way, and maybe walk to the kitchen and keep them company. Jade was possibly the mildest and most genuine person Lapis knew, and yet their undivided attention was enough to make cynical Rutile uneasy. It was funny.

Lapis had not lied, though, they had never felt so splendidly. And they were thankful to Rutile for their mood. So thankful, indeed, that they sprang up from their bed with a graceful groan and waltzed to the door.

They shut it with smug satisfaction and then went back to their bed. Favors, Lapis Lazuli believed, were only to be returned.

----

Ghost was lost observing their sibling draw. Cairngorm kept tracing swift curves over the paper, eyebrows furrowed in a soft frown, so different from the way Cairn used to scowl their way through life. Cairn’s right hand lay relaxed in their lap while the left would weave the pencil over the page, the wrist flicking with calm satisfaction every time a new picture came to life.

Starting from the same diagrams and graphs Ghost was trying to emulate, Cairn’s hand had moved from the top left corner of the notebook to the bottom right, sketching what looked like dragons and possibly demons, uncaring of the soft smear of graphite they were leaving behind.

Ghost took another bite of their cookie, their eyes shifting back to their own homework. They wished they could draw like that: their graphs always looked wobbly and full of half-erased, over-lined shapes, but it pained Ghost to erase a full picture, it felt like they should at least hold onto the ribbons of eraser or it would be a waste for the picture to be born in the first place.

“Do you think it’s good enough?” they mumbled, holding out their notebook for Cairngorm to see. Cairn raised their eyes from their art, their brows arching back to their usual angle.

“I don’t know,” they said.

“Maybe I should make the axes thicker?” Ghost wondered, “Can you read the numbers?”

“Leave it be, any thicker and it’ll look like a Greek cross or something.”

“Oh,” Ghost looked back at their paper, disappointment creeping its way through their face. Why a Greek cross would be considered bad, they wondered, trying to pin point how thin the line diving artistic and mathematical symbolism run. Eventually, Ghost noticed the translucent stains of grease they had left on the paper after touching it and puffed their cheeks. They decided to focus their attention back on the numbers, those were easier to understand at least.

“Where’s Lapis by the way?” Cairngorm mumbled after a few minutes.

Ghost finished scribbling the solution to one of the problems before offering a shrug as answer.

“Dunno,” Cairn went on, ”it’s like- I mean, don’t you think they’re acting weird? Like, I don’t know, like they’re avoiding us,” they puffed, “Pisses me off.”

“They’re studying. Probably.”

“And we can’t study together?”

“We did yesterday,” Ghost pointed out.

Cairngorm grimaced, running a hand through their hair.

“Why do I even talk with you? You never notice stuff.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. It’s good you’ll be working with dead people.”

“Grieving families aren’t dead people.”

“Oh joy, that’s even more thrilling.”

Ghost didn’t reply, instead they broke a little piece of cookie and put it in their mouth, letting it melt slowly.

Cairngorm twirled their pencil around their fingers like a child, tapping their feet against the ground impatiently as they would do when they wanted to press a topic further. After a minute or so they seemed to find some sort of resolution, their shoulders slouched.

“You think they hate us?” they mumbled without looking at Ghost.

Ghost’s lips twitched imperceptibly.

“We’re family,” they stated with undisputable authority, as if it was an unquestionable truth. This seemed to put Cairngorm at ease again.

They snatched one of the remaining cookies from Ghost’ side of the table, earning a glare from their sibling.

“Alright,” they conceded as a piece of chocolate fell in their lap.

Chapter Text

Euclase’s midterm was a masterpiece of calculatedness, timed exactly to be executed in 65 minutes of full attention, and designed in each of its smallest components, from the smile with which Euclase welcomed the students in to the amiable way they clapped their hands and asked everyone to switch their seats.

Lapis lazuli counted five different rows of tests. They followed Euclase’s steps as they surveyed the classroom, dividing anything that looked ever remotely like a group. They handed test 1 to Cairngorm, second row to the left, test 3 to Ghost, bottom right of the classroom, and test 2 to Lapis, assigning them a new seat behind the teacher’s desk.

It was both a privileged and penalized seat in Lapis’ view, one that made them stick out from the rest of the classroom in a way that was hardly to be intended as flattering. Still, it was as if Euclase themselves had picked Lapis out from the other students, as if they had a reason to further separate Lapis from the group. Sitting on the other side of the teacher’s desk made Lapis’ fingers tingle with a subtle sense of power.

Lapis Lazuli would have liked to ponder about the meaning of the seats’ disposition more, but Cairngorm reclaimed their attention barely a couple of minutes after the test had started, ungracefully dragging Lapis back to their time and place. Puffing their cheeks, Lapis chose to ignore them: Cairn could bear with the panic another while.

They scanned the class one last time, drinking in the sight of students shoving their hands in their hair and writing down numbers and words furiously, then they lifted their gaze and were met with the piercing stare of their teacher.

Euclase was standing in the middle of the back of the room with a serene expression on their face, hugging a few spare exams in their arms. They were the epitome of neutrality, with their signature grey suit, their grey eyes, their grey hair parted in the middle, the way it fell in plain streaks just above Euclase’s shoulders.

Lapis found themselves thinking, not for the first time, that Euclase’s figure was all but imposing. They were average in just about everything: an average teacher with an average job in an average college, with average height, average weight, average hair length, average age. Even from their position right in the middle of the room, Euclase seemed to exert themselves in the art of occupying as little living space as possible, waltzing away from the spotlight with calculated attention. And yet, Lapis realized, they possessed an innate ability to radiate authority that was difficult to mask.

From their neutral position, Euclase’s eyes were taking in the whole room, registering and analyzing each small movement of their students, each hushed plea for help. Calm, gentle authority, subtle power.

It was in Euclase’s movements, in the very care they put into appearing average. In the way their hands would curl with precision around the papers, in how they measured their steps, in Euclase’s gaze, which was currently focused on Lapis.

Euclase brought a hand to their mouth, whispering a cough as if they did not want to disturb the students, but Lapis knew it was a signal for them to start working on their own exam.

And yet, Lapis felt like a soft fever was rushing through their body and they were unable to divert their eyes from Euclase. They were not quite sure what to blame their uneasiness on: it was just another exam, an average test for an average class, nothing Lapis’ mind couldn’t handle.

Euclase coughed again, letting their eyes travel around the room for a second before fixing them on Lapis once more. They mouthed a silent “get to work” to Lapis Lazuli, a muted advice that was somehow enough to doze Lapis off their daze.

They tightened their grip on their pen, their fingers tingling, and they forced themselves to look down on their paper, feeling heat rise to their cheeks and forcing the emotion down to analyze later. 55 minutes and still a full exam to solve, they scolded themselves, plus one or two ducklings to nurse. This could just have turned into a challenge, but, as with another one, it was a bet Lapis had no intention to lose.

-----  

Something akin to phantom pain was wrapped around Lapis’ wrist, a memento of a few minutes too many of distraction. In the end, Lapis had managed to complete the exam just within the assigned time, their pen rushing all the way from the first to the last page, bonus questions included.

Of course they would never admit to this, it was hard enough to admit it to themselves, not even now that Cairngorm was still riding on the last waves of their hysteric crisis.

“I hate you,” they repeated for no less than the fourth time, “I hate you so much.”

Lapis tried to smile, they had been forcing themselves to focus on a feeling that wasn’t related to Euclase or to their class, and Cairngorm’s incompetence offered them just the right amount of ego boasting to mend their pride.

“Love you too,” they mumbled, fishing a couple of coins from a pocket inside their vest.

“Really, you’re an asshole. I know you saw me and Ghost, why did it take you that long? I didn’t choose this fucking class. I didn’t sign up for any of this. I’m tired.”

“I told you we had the same row. How can I tell you the solution if I don’t solve the problems myself? The least I was expecting was a thank you.”

“Thanks for fucking up my life, yes, thank you very much.”

Lapis Lazuli chuckled. Cairn was all bark and no bite. Someone who barely grazed 5 feet tall without heels and who kept vomiting swears and anxieties like that was just cute, if not comedic. Lapis’ pride was feeling a little better.

“Here,” Lapis put a steaming cup in between Cairn’s hands, “you’re most welcome.”

They walked to Ghost, who was presently chatting with Cinnabar, perfectly aware than Cairn would follow after Lapis and that holding a cup of hot chocolate would prevent them from gesticulating too violently.

“Nah, it makes sense,” Cinnabar mumbled against the knee they were hugging, oblivious to the most basic rules of composure in public places, “convergence doesn’t imply it has an asymptotic distribution. I think you got that one right.”

“Oh, I’m glad,” Ghost replied, “I was so worried.”

“I- I mean,” Cinnabar flushed, “I’d still be wrong, I didn’t do that exam, what do I know. So yeah, dunno, talk with the prof or something.”

“Troubles?” Lapis inquired, taking a seat beside ghost.

“Just one hard problem,” Ghost mumbled, “number 7.”

“Aw, you could’ve asked me. Or Gormie.”

“Fuck you,” Cairngorm mumbled, still visibly livid despite the hot chocolate.

“You were busy writing,” Ghost explained, “and it’s okay. I remember studying it the day before, I wanted to see if I could figure it out on my own.”

“Such a mature cutie,” Lapis’ lips twitched bitterly as they pat Ghost’s head. They turned to Cinnabar for reassurance, “was it hard?”

Cinnabar shrugged, their cheeks tinting red now that they were into the spotlight again.

“A-a little,” they commented, “but I think Ghost got it right. Probably. I mean, I don’t know.”

Lapis nodded. They were growing tired of the topic and tired of hearing how everyone was having a hard time in a class that was never meant to be a general elective.

It was to be expected, Lapis told themselves, exams were like that: people loved to complain about them before and after they were done, even if there was no point in doing so. It wouldn’t change the results, just like it didn’t make sense for Cairngorm to keep bitching about how hard statistics was. It was pointless and it was far too late in the semester to drop the class; they should just accept reality and move on. Yet, Ghost had never complained about anything and here they were, talking with Cinnabar rather than Lapis. It left a mysterious bitterness in the back of Lapis’ throat.

“How was your exam?” Ghost inquired, dozing Lapis off their thoughts.

Lapis mulled over it, processing the weight of different adjectives for a couple of seconds.

“Manageable,” they decided. Then they fished out a book from their bag and shut the outside world out.

---

The light of the sunset spilled across Euclase’s desk in stripes of gold and red. Euclase hit enter once more and replied to the umpteenth email, fingers and eyes hurting from hours and hours of incessant typing.

The manuscript of their latest book was coming along nicely, at least, and it would be coming along even more nicely if their colleagues on the other side of the country could send their data in time for a change.

Euclase pinched the bridge of their nose, releasing tension and fatigue in a long, soft sigh. They closed the lif of their mac with a resolute tap and convinced themselves that they deserved an internet-free evening. As they mulled over how much guilt they would have to handle by taking so many hours off, Euc’s eyes dropped on the pile of exams they should have started grading. The papers looked back at them unperturbed, their red-free pages silently judging Euclase’s lack of perseverance.  

Euclase drummed their fingers on the wood, praying that the pile would disappear. They were halfway through Vivaldi’s “Spring” when they accepted that it would not happen anytime soon and, with a groan, they grabbed the first paper and a red pen and started scribbling down corrections. At their third exam, Euc heard the door of their office creak open and Lapis Lazuli waltzed in, the sunset framing their blue hair like a glittering, red crown.

“May I?” Lapis asked after closing the door behind them. Euclase spared them a second glance from over the papers.

“Is it something the matter?” they asked.

“Mayhaps.”

“Is it urgent?”

“Depends,” Lapis shrugged, “would you listen to me if it was not?”

“Depends.”

“Oh, I see you’ve played before,” Lapis grinned like a cat. They bridged the distance between the door and Euc’s desk with a couple of steps and dropped themselves on a chair with the same satisfaction Euc would expect from someone who had just found a throne to sit onto.

“Mine is an A+,” Lapis said, gesturing to the papers, “one less to grade. You’re welcome.”  

“I’m glad you’re so confident about your knowledge of statistics,” Euc said, not quite sure that Lapis was lying.

“I'm glad you're glad about my knowledge of statistics.”

“It’s my job.”

“Mh,” lapis rested their head on the palm of their hands, uncrossing their legs. They would look just like a flirty school-girl if not for the way they kept looking at Euclase, with a distinctive brand of detachment that was just pure Lapis, “Is it all there is to it?” they cooed.

“I’m also your advisor,” Euclase added, ignoring Lapis’ tone in favor of tracing an elegant C+ on the paper they had just finished grading.

“So you don’t like me at all?”

Euclase’s pen took a detour, staining the next exam with a scribble of red ink. They frowned, silently cursing their hands.

“Lapis, please. I don’t understand what you’re trying to say,” they sighed.

“I think you do. You’re smart, professor.”

“It’s doctor.”

“Professor sounds cooler.”

“I am not even an adjunct,” Euclase explained, “doctor is the appropriate term.”

“Don’t you think appropriate things are boring?” Lapis crossed their legs again, making a dismissive gesture with their long fingers, ”Rules are meant to be broken.”

“Rules are meant to guarantee a more efficient and cooperative existence within our society.”

“Or to guarantee those who made them a better spot within said society.”

“Have you come here just to discuss politics?” Euc sighed, “As you can see I’m busy.”

“You’re always running away,” Lapis whined, drawing closer again, “I like that. Why are you running away?”

“You know that's not the case.”

“I bet it’s interesting. Won’t you tell me about your life? I’ll tell you about mine. Wanna hear about that one time I hacked my highschool’s website to shorten winter break?”

“No I don’t. And I’d rather you don’t go around sharing stories about how you broke the law. Especially not in an academic setting, I-” Euclase pondered about their next words, formulaic sentences running through their mind in strings of orderly pleasantries. They should just push one beyond their lips, like always. One more polite word to save face and be a good teacher, but, somehow, they were so tired that burying their interest for what Lapis had to say made them feel nauseous. Instead, they let the next sentence slip.

“I want to finish grading these papers, go home and rest. This has been a long day.”

“How’s that?” Lapis clung onto the minuscule cracks of Euc’s mask with an expert eye, and the fact that they looked genuinely interested didn’t help Euc’s cause.

Euclase sighed, pushing themselves away from the desk and buying some distance between them and the new object of their discomfort. They didn’t know why but there was something about Lapis that made them want to keep talking, even if they knew they should not, even if they had refused to do it over and over again. Maybe it was in Lapis’ brand of interest, an intellectual curiosity more than a desire to empathize. Maybe Euc simply wished they could do that as well.

Lapis’ eyes where glittering in the sunlight, their mouth gently curved in a tiny smile, as if this was the most interesting lecture they had ever attended, even if Euclase had not started talking yet. Even if Euclase had nothing valuable to say. An audience. Lapis was an odd audience. Maybe that was it, in the end. Euc had ended up as a teacher so they wouldn’t have to keep looking for a real audience, so they wouldn’t have to expose themselves to have someone listen to them. If they kept talking now would they be using Lapis or would it be Lapis using them?

“It was just a long day,” they tried again, “nothing interesting about it.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Lapis dodged Euc’s sentence, “What happened?”

Scoffing, Euclase felt their ego take the wheel, unperturbed by Lapis’ bluntness, and they found themselves talking.

“Well, I had a boring faculty meeting this morning and apparently the course catalogue for the next semester has to be redesigned, so I have some new syllabi to write and just two weeks to do so. Guess what I do with my time isn’t a priority for the board. Then emails, emails every day, it’s never enough. I’ve lost count of all the emails sent and answered since this morning, they just keep piling up and I’m still behind on a few of them. Then a graduating student asked to anticipate their meeting with me because they cannot come over tomorrow, for some mysterious reason they couldn’t tell me. The world might end or something, I don’t even want to know. But I had to proofread their masters’ thesis because this is my job and because how can you eat lunch when you’re supposed to help your students and earn your salary? It took so long. Their data was all over the place. I finished just a few minutes before your exam started. That was probably the most relaxing part of my day. A room full of silence. 75 minutes of bliss. But we’re also working on a new book, so I had to tend to that as well, later. My colleagues are late in sending me data for the next chapter, so we’re falling behind on the schedule, which the president of faculty doesn’t like even if it’s not up to me. Now I’m grading papers and talking with you, and tonight I have to think of some topic for a conference panel next week, maybe sleep, maybe think about how I should have become a farmer instead,” Euclase stopped themselves before their rambling became a recount of their whole life rather than their day. It was embarrassing the way they were vomiting words in front of a student, why didn’t they stop?

“So yes,” they mumbled, straightening their back, “a- a lot of boring little tasks.”

Lapis nodded, but made no comment. Euc thought that if they had given Lapis a pen and a paper before their monologue started, Lapis would have started taking notes.

“On a side note,” Euclase cleared their voice: if Lapis was going to ignore what had just happened, Euc would too, “You should probably consider all of these things if you really want to make a career in academia. Are you sure you like this kind of daily routine?”

As always, though, Lapis didn’t answer the question they were being asked.

“Why would you rather be a farmer?” they said.

Euclase was at a loss for words.

“W-what?”

“The thing you said. I always thought primary sector jobs to be shit, but I value your opinion. I want to know what you think about it, maybe I could reconsider.”

“It was just a joke,” Euc ventured, “I’m very grateful to have a job in a field that interests me so deeply. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

“You don’t sound happy.”

“Well,” Euclase commented, “as I told you it was a very long day.”

“Didn’t you just say this is a common day? A day in the life?”

“Yes. You could say I’m just tired myself… No job is perfect, it’s part of the game,” Euc shrugged, plastering a smile on their face again, “Forgive me for digressing. I still have to finish grading these, though,” they put a protective hand on the exams, “If you don’t have anything pressing to tell me, maybe we can talk another time. You should go study.”

“I can help you grade them,” Lapis said and then added, before Euc could object, “You’ll be done early, I get to spend more time with you and then you can go home and rest.”

“That’s hardly appropriate. You’re not a teacher assistant and you’re not even in the stem department.”

“I can be your TA. Just for today. Our dirty little secret.”

“The number of secrets between you and me is escalating quickly.”

“Please,” Lapis pleaded, “You know I’m better at stats than 90% of your stem students.”

Euclase sighed.

“I can do this on my own, this is my job.”

“Same here. In a few years,” Lapis said, grabbing an exam from Euc’s hands.

“Not stats, I assume,” Euc replied, taking the exam back.

“Who am I to put a limit to the endless weaves and turns of life? Maybe math was my calling all along.”

“Was it?” Euclase asked.

“No,” Lapis grinned, “I’m literature’s bitch. But I want to spend more time with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a good person and I love helping people.”

“I’ve known you long enough to know that you’re messing with me,” Euclase chuckled.

“Am I now? How smart of you, doctor, I love that about you. And your laugh, too, it’s gracious.”

Euc scoffed, raising their eyes to the ceiling.

“Why are you always so blunt?”

“Oh, you want to know about me? Ask and you shall receive,” Lapis rested their chin on the palms of their hands, smiling, “I’m an open book”

“Okay,” Euc wasn’t even sure what they were accepting, they just knew they hadn’t talked this much in months, “Why do you always answer a question with another question?”

“Because some questions are boring. See? I answered. I told you I could play.”

“What would an interesting question be?” Euclase rested their chin on their hands as well, mimicking Lapis’ pose.

“Do you like me?” Lapis said.

“What?” Euc spluttered.

“That’s an interesting question,” Lapis pointed out, tilting their head like a cat, “Look how flustered it got you, professor.”

“I’m not flustered,” Euclase lied, “and it’s doctor. Are you testing my patience? I told you this is a busy day.”

“I’m trying to hit on you, isn’t it obvious?”

“I-“ Euclase was at a loss for words, “sometimes I can’t tell when you’re sincere and when you’re joking.”

“Sometimes, neither can I,” Lapis admitted.

“Are you joking now?”

“I wonder.”

“Do you?”

“No,” Lapis said, “No, I don’t.”

Euclase pushed themselves away from the desk again, crossing their legs.

“This is highly inappropriate,” they mumbled, trying to think about this with a cool mind.

“Yes.”

“Forgive me for stepping out of my place. You aren’t making this easy, though. I should truly ask you to leave and drop my class. In fact, I don’t think you should be here at all.”

“Yes.”

Euclase stole a glance at Lapis. They were sitting perfectly straight, with a confident expression on their face, as if they were keenly aware of all the remarks Euc could make about their words, as if they had expected them and discharged them one after the other days ago, until selfishness was all that remained.

This was Lapis Lazuli. Undoubtedly, one of the most peculiar students Euclase had ever had, and one of the sharpest. So young and so self-centered.

Euclase knew that trying to dissuade them would be pointless and, even if it worked, it wouldn’t do anything to help Lapis’ cause. Euc was still their teacher, it was their duty to educate and drive them, push them to become the best version of themselves they could be. If they gave up on Lapis, who would Lapis turn to?

Euc picked up a couple of papers and a spare red pen and handed them to Lapis Lazuli. They decided they would ignore the delusions of what was little more than a kid and focus on the cry for help of the future adult that lay beneath them.

“I’m going to teach you how to grade,” they announced.

Lapis’ eyes sparkled, the ghost of surprise crossed them for a brief second before they accepted the pen from Euclase’s fingers and began listening to them again.

Chapter Text

Lapis Lazuli’s eyes fixed on the page right in front of them until the words disappeared in a blurry dance of syllables. They shifted into numbers and graphs, into black and red notes, C+es and B-es, into Euclase’s voice.

“And here too, yes, we can’t let this slip by.”

Lapis blinked. All of a sudden, the hand with which they were holding the book in place had looked like Euclase’s. They could still see the professor’s fingers grasp the pen with precision, weaving sequences of corrections as their eyes evaluated a student’s worth with a glance. 

Their eyes, Lapis recalled , they are mismatched . Sharp, softly hooded, one grey and the other pale blue, like dirty ice and pristine ice, as if reflecting some inner conflict buried deep into Euclase’s soul. 

Lapis had been so close to them, Euc bent over the desk with grace, pointing with their pen to the corrections Lapis had missed, talking in that soft tone of theirs, motherly almost, each syllable dancing on their lips with authority.

They had been so close that Lapis had been able to count the specks of green and yellow in Euc’s irises. They had lost count at 13 and not because they didn’t want to be found staring, but because their attention had been drawn to Euc’s voice, to the speed of their mind, running over mistakes with simple confidence. 

“Your eyes,” Lapis should have said, “you have heterochromia. It’s beautiful,” but they had been unable to find the words and now they were staring at “Shakespeare’s complete sonnets,” 36 hours after their last meeting with their advisor. Their fingertips were retracing hendecasyllables as if they were words on one of those stats exams, as if they could retrace the ghost of Euc’s touch, grasp some of their essence, the echo of their voice.

Lapis grimaced, pinching the page with their nails until it left a mark between the last two lines of the sonnet. They should consider yesterday’s events as progress, but somehow they were not sure they were. More time, they needed more time and more occasions, but there was a limit to what office hours could accomplish, and Lapis was growing tired of the university grounds. 

They recalled the way the sun had tinted Euclase’s grey hair red, the glow it had given their mismatched eyes. It had made Lapis want to stand up, grab Euclase by the wrist and bring them wherever it was that Euc wanted, give them the sun itself if that was it, see them wander around the outside world like an animal freed in the wild, observe their reaction, hear them laugh, learn what would make them laugh. 

Euclase’s mind was a sealed casket of secrets, with walls of mirrors to deflect curious eyes and superficial questions. It was beautiful, pristine, cold, like Euclase’s eyes. It was meant to be stared at, to be unraveled, to be free.

Lapis Lazuli took out their phone and typed a quick message as their mind started mulling over how to properly word their next email. They changed their mind as they hit enter and figured they’d have better luck asking in person.

Throwing Shakespeare’s sonnets on the bed behind them, Lapis stood up, grabbed a jacket and walked out of the door. Jade’s words reached Lapis’ ears genuine and clear, barely muffled by the corridor’s walls. They were back at it again, bickering with Rutile.

“Sit down, you’re giving me second hand anxiety,” Jade said, slightly concerned. 

“I am sitting down.”

“But not in a proper way. What if you spill it? You look like a bird.”

“Is that a compliment?”

Rutile was currently sitting on the backrest of their couch, their knees at eye level with Jade, who was watching them with ill-concealed interest. Rutile took a sip of coffee, gazing at Jade from over their mug and chuckling when the latter diverted their gaze with a huff, puffing their cheeks.

“It means you’re a quack,” Lapis answered in Jade’s place, “a caffeine-addicted quack, to be more precise,” they added, pointing out Rutile’s cup with their chin.

“Jade made it. Wouldn’t it be rude of me not to accept?”

“Polite refusals are a thing, you know?”

“I’m keeping an eye on them, don’t worry,” Jade intervened, “and that’s decaf.”

“This is what?” Rutile spluttered, outraged, the contents of their cup not spilling all over the couch out of some unknown miracle.

“And you didn’t notice?” Lapis teased them, resting their weight on the backrest, beside Rutile, “Age’s really getting to you.”

“How could you?” Rutile said to Jade, ignoring Lapis.

“It’s for your own health; I thought you’d have noticed.”

“I’m a doctor, if I’m injecting soft drugs inside my system it’s because I know the effects and I like them. How could you?”

“It’s not finals’ week, you don’t need that much caffeine.”

“What would you know?”

“Aw,” Lapis cooed, “isn’t our old married couple just the sweetest? But before you get at each other’s throats, has that exhibition opened yet?” they asked, looking at Jade.

“The one about world war II?” Jade asked.

“No, Monet.”

“Oh,” Jade murmured, “Yes, yes I think it opened yesterday. We published a feature piece about it. You should look it up, it’s on the website. The Comm department helped design the interactive part of the exhibition, you know? And two Art History graduates curated the exposition, so we had to cover it, it was an amazing project. There are 24 canvas on show, some of which-“

“Enough, enough, I don’t care,” Lapis interrupted them, “Thanks, nerd.”

“Says who,” Rutile mumbled, still looking at their coffee with a mixture of resentment and tender pity, like a mother who had been betrayed by their firstborn.

Lapis pushed Rutile’s head down without a word. Rutile cursed, falling over. They grabbed the fabric of the couch with their nails, spilling the coffee over Jade’s pants in an attempt to retain their equilibrium.

“Rutile!” Jade exclaimed, clenching their fists, “I knew this’d happen.”

“Come back here!” Rutile said to Lapis, making as if they wanted to throw the cup at them. But Lapis turned their back to their roommates, opened the door and waltzed out of the apartment, humming Gershwin under their breath.

-----

Ghost was contemplating the little fort of anatomy and pathology books that they had built around themselves. Big and small tomes alternated themselves in a neat semicircle of two to four layers, each one of them unified by the pale lime green tag that marked them as property of the campus. Some of those books had seen one too many semesters and could boast twice Ghost Quartz’s age, if not more, but, despite their outdated contents, Ghost had still borrowed them for the sake of thoroughness, not to mention the illustrations. 

When they were little, Ghost would often ask Cairn to draw some of those illustrations for them, be it pictures of fungi from an old edition of a mycology manual or the minuscule details of a young girl’s lace collar in Victorian post mortem photographs.     

Cairn didn’t always oblige and when they did, they did so with one of their trademark scowls safely plastered on their face, lest anyone thought they were remotely enjoying their act of kindness. Yet, Ghost knew their sibling cared and they still treasured those drawings in a tin box back at home, along with each one of the two siblings’ milk teeth.  

The thought put a small smile on Ghost’s lips and their fingers went searching for the pile of flashcards about osteology and odontology. They were more determined than ever to do well on the upcoming test, they had always found the human body fascinating.   

They were about to scribble some more notes when their phone blinked once again with a text and they had to put down the pen. Lapis was waiting for them outside.

With a little reluctance, even if not as great as Ghost’s curiosity, Ghost rose from their seat and walked out of the library, leaving their anatomy fort and flashcards behind. It should be quick, Lapis had said, and, as a librarian, Ghost was supposed to be in charge of those books either way.

“Ghostie!” Lapis exclaimed when they saw them. They put their phone back inside their pocket and lunged forward to hug Ghost, who stumbled back a couple of steps, overwhelmed by the sudden emotion.

“Hi,” they mumbled, their cheeks tinting just the tiniest bit of red.

“How are you doing, dear?” Lapis chirped, “I can’t help but think I’ve been ignoring you lately. How careless of me.”

Ghost’s lips curved upwards another millimeter, happy to be right and happy to be right about something dear to them. The conversation they had had with their sibling was running peacefully through their mind like chamber music. 

“You said you were studying,” Ghost shrugged with simplicity. 

“Indeed,” Lapis nodded with energy, brushing a lock of hair behind their ear. They seemed unusually chatty; maybe Antarc had been right when they had commented that Lapis was taking too many classes. “Indeed I was,” Lapis went on, confirming Ghost’s suspicions, “campus-related issues have kept me busy for a while. Hope you’ll forgive me.”

“Of course,” Ghost offered them the same smile from before, feeling no pressure to ask for anything that Lapis was not ready to tell. “You were busy.”

“That I was, yes. But enough of me,” Lapis said, taking the first step of what Ghost assumed would be a short walk. It was a nice day outside, spring was making its shy comeback among trees and clouds alike and the fresh light felt pleasant even just to stand still in. Ghost’s mind travelled back a few steps to their anatomy books fort and neatly written flashcards. Maybe they should take their books out one of these days, study in the sun.

“How have you been holding up?” Lapis asked, interrupting Ghost’s reverie, “Any interesting news?”

“I have an anatomy and pathology exam coming,” Ghost said, “I was studying just about now.”

“No machine quite as fascinating as the human body, uh. Rutile’d be proud,” Lapis commented, ruffling Ghost’s hair with their fingers. Maybe they weren’t unquiet, like Antarc thought, or busy, like Cairn complained. They looked simply happy to Ghost. “Mortuary science and medicine have quite a few things in common, haven’t they?”

“Not really. We can’t go to the mortuary yet,” Ghost explained.

“Ironic, since you’ll be the ones working with dead people.”

“Yes. I think it’s not very fair of them. I’d love to learn something about autopsies.”

“And what of the two lovebirds?” Lapis went on casually.

“Phos and Antarc?”

“Those lovebirds, yes.”

“I talked with Phos yesterday,” Ghost recalled, “They have been studying with Cairn lately. They seemed very sad, they wanted to bring Antarc on a date I think but it didn’t look like they were very happy. Do you think there’s something wrong with them? Maybe they fought with Cairn?”

“Ghostie, sweetie, don’t you see? Your favorite dumbass is simply in love and being in love makes them nervous about which steps to take. It’s like chess, you see? And Phos is not used to playing; they’re the type of person who knocks the whole board off the table because their fingers won’t stop shaking.”

Ghost nodded, trying to imagine Phos and Antarc playing chess and Phos accidentally knocking the pieces off the table. Curiously enough, the first thing that came to Ghost’s mind was Antarc kneeling on the floor next to Phos to help them pick up the pieces. 

“Hell, even I’d be nervous if I dated Antarc,” Lapis went on, “Sometimes I really can’t understand what’s gotten into Phos. Maybe they truly are stupid.”

“Cinnabar says that all the time.”

“Shinsha likes to complain about a good old pain in the ass, but they blatantly crave the attention. No, I think Antarc must have some secret charms. Extremely undisclosed ones I assume.”

“Oh,” Ghost mumbled, curious. 

“Ghost, truth be told, I’m concerned about them. Don’t you think we should try to help?” 

“Cinnabar is in the chess club,” Ghost pointed out.

“Cinnabar has the social skills and tact of a porcupine with rabies. What does Cairn think?”

“They said they wouldn’t help Phos with any ‘corny shit,’” Ghost quoted, recalling their sibling’s complaint about a certain lemon courtyard.

“Then this leaves it up to the two of us,” Lapis said, “Aside from Cairn’s distaste for all things happy, I think they might be right on this specific occurrence. A straight up, romantic date could easily overwhelm someone as emotionally constipated as Antarc. They haven’t been on a date yet, have they?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Precisely,” Lapis nodded with conviction, “What Phos needs here is a more… subtle approach, finer, if you want. Intellectual.”

Ghost was perplexed for a second, but it made sense. Antarc and Phos had the literature club in common and they had met thanks to the writing center. It only followed that their relationship could develop thanks to an… intellectual attitude.

“Like studying together?” Ghost proposed.

“Ah, not quite,” Lapis shook their head softly, the corners of their lips raised upwards almost imperceptibly, in an enigmatic smile, it reminded Ghost of the day Lapis had asked them to enroll into advanced statistics with them. “Like bringing Antarc along in a low pressure environment and in a low pressure situation,” Lapis went on, “Something their nerd brain would genuinely enjoy and with enough familiar faces to forget that it was a date altogether. Like a group excursion, for example, but in an environment more suited to Antarc’s tastes.”

“An art gallery maybe?” Ghost suggested.

“Exactly. I see you follow me,” Lapis smiled, “Now, Jade has told me wonders about this new Monet exposition, and it’s our duty and pleasure as Antarc and Phos’s friends and club-mates to help them in this particular occasion.”

“Maybe we could all go together,” Ghost said, “as a club. I’d love to see those paintings of withered lilies.“

“See? You’re such a sweetie. I’m sure Phos will appreciate it as well, it’ll take some tension off their shoulders, they seemed quite nervous about this romance thing, didn’t they?”

“They like Antarcticite a lot,” Ghost smiled, “Should I go tell them?”

“If you have a chance. I’m sure they will be happy to come. I shall tell Antarc and a couple of teachers. If it’s a club thing we can’t not bring an escort. Cairn is welcome too of course, a little bit of culture will do them no harm. Hell, it could even do them good.”

Ghost chuckled.

“I’ll tell them about it,” they replied, “but won’t the presence of professors pressure Phos more?”

“Of course not. They’ll be talking with themselves. Nothing like a large group of people to hide a date. You’ll see. You’ll see the miracle of a large party splitting into smaller and smaller units until partnerships are formed, solid as rock.”

“Oh.”

“Do tell Cairn,” Lapis said again, brushing one of Ghost’s locks behind their ear, “I’ll let you know the date as soon as I can find an afternoon that’ll work for everyone. And good luck on your exam.”

“Thanks. Good luck on your campus issues.”

“Why, thank you,” Lapis smirked, making to leave, “I think I’m finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.”  

-----

Phos had been staring at the figure in front of them for a good five minutes. That is, the whole time since the stranger had stepped foot inside the student lounge. It wasn’t just the umpteenth, not quite unconscious ploy of Phos’ mind to avoid studying; there was something about the stranger that told Phos it was not supposed to be a stranger. Something in their mannerism, the way they stirred their coffee with methodical, counterclockwise movements, never changing direction. 

Grey hair, grey suit… grey face? Phos wished they could know. The stranger had turned their back on Phos before they could evaluate their features, and that was a good thing seeing how Phos kept staring at them. It had to be a professor, with their age and demeanor, but for them to be a professor Phos did not know, it meant that either they were teaching some obscure subject in an equally obscure and forgotten department, or they had just arrived or returned from an obscure country. 

Maybe this wasn’t Phos’ brain’s attempt to avoid studying another chapter as much as an attempt to avoid thinking about what Papdaradscha had said. Phos had never felt too confident in their abilities to ask Antarc out and they now felt paralyzed by the mere thought of speaking to them. It was a good thing they had managed to avoid the subject and Padpa lately, or they’d never hear the end of it. 

They had just begun their merry journey down the path of self-deprecation when Lapis Lazuli’s blue mane appeared at the door. A ‘Hi’ died in Phos’ throat as they watched Lapis wink in their general direction, mouthing for them to be silent, and walk long, confident steps toward the grey professor who still had their back on both of them.

Lapis put their hand on the prof’s shoulder and the latter almost jumped out of their seat.

“Professor!” Lapis exclaimed, “Fancy meeting you here.”

“It’s doctor,” the professor replied, catching their breath, but there was no annoyance in their tone, the words were actually lined with patience, it seemed to Phos, fondness almost. 

“Professor fits you better. You have just the attitude.”

“It’s not a matter of attitude, you know that.”

“Why can’t you simply take my compliments?” Lapis complained as if they were a child. They took a seat on the table in front of the professor, legs crossed, “Your indifference wounds me.”

The professor chuckled softly, putting their coffee down.

“Please, accept my apologies,” they said, “But this won’t change how things are.”

“How about this, then?” Lapis exclaimed, fishing what looked like a pamphlet from one of the pockets of their long trench coat. They offered it to the professor with a cheeky grin on their face, patiently waiting for them to examine it and give their response.

“An art exhibition?” the professor mumbled after scanning the paper quickly.

“An art exhibition about Monet as part of our lit club activities and as part of my senior thesis. When can you come?”

“Why should I come?”

“It’s for my thesis and I’m your only pupil, doctor .”

“How can art have anything to do with your thesis? You’re a literature major, and still a sophomore.”

“Why wait? And am I not taking stats? You know I’m an adorable, polyhedral fellow.” And that’s when it clicked in Phos’ mind. Stats. So that was the infamous professor Euclase Cairngorm kept complaining about, the impossible grader, the stone-cold heart bitch, the icicle prick and all those other not quite flattering epithets Phos had heard from Euclase’s students around campus, Cairn included. And it was true, they were aloof and composed, it was one of the first things Phos had thought upon seeing them, but they didn’t seem that unfriendly. 

“Why do you want me to come, Lapis?” Euclase asked again in a calm, patient tone, even if betraying some amusement.

“Ah,” Lapis chuckled, “I knew you wouldn’t fall for that, you’re truly something else.”

“Should I be offended?”

“Quite the contrary,” Lapis’ eyes were gleaming, doting, Phos was tempted to rub their own eyes, not quite sure of what they were seeing, ”I love that about you, you’re smart.”

“So why should I come, a proper reason this time.”

“Because I asked you to,” Lapis said.

“I have no interest in art.”

“And opinions like that are outrageous. That’s one more reason you should come.”

“You should go with your friends. I’m sure you’ll have fun.”

“I will,” Lapis retorted, “and there’ll be other professors as well. It’ll be like a school trip among colleagues.”

“That sounds a little disproportionate.”

“The more the merrier. Beauty is meant to be shared. It’ll be a soul enriching experience, and I thought you said you held prof. Alexandrite in high esteem.”

“They’re coming as well?”

“Of course. They’re our club’s coordinator. Are you going to leave them alone with a mob of silly school kids?”

Euclase shifted in their seat, as if the thought made them nervous somehow. Lapis stole a quick glance at Phos and shifted the focus of their speech. 

“Ghost Quartz and Cairngorm from our stats course are going to be there,” they added, “And we also have a new freshman addition to our club. This is your chance to extend your good influence to them. Speaking of the devil, here they are. Hi, Phos” Lapis said, waving at Phos, who was totally not expecting to be thrown into the spotlight like that.

They did their best to wave awkwardly in return, unsure of what to do or where Lapis was going with all this. Euc turned toward them right away, drinking in Phos’ face, teal hair, un-ironed shirt and messy papers with a single glance. Euc’s face was just as bland as Phos had expected it to be memorable, something that would imprint itself in the mind of terrified students, ready to curse their name in the dark of the night.

“Oh my, they’ve heard everything,” Euc mumbled, sympathetic, “I apologize for my student’s attitude, I hope it didn’t offend you or anything.”

“Oh, uhm, I’m… quite used to it?” Phos shrugged, awkwardness still radiating off their frame in waves.

“See? Look how desperate Phos looks,” Lapis latched onto it with amused ferocity, “So in need of a good influence after spending too much time with Prof. Papdaradscha.”

“Hey!” Phos exclaimed, but Euclase didn’t give them time to express their annoyance.

“That’s not very nice of you to say,” they admonished Lapis, like a parent, then they turned their head to Phos again, “Hello anyway,” they smiled, “I’m doctor Euclase, Lapis Lazuli’s advisor and advanced statistics teacher. Did you know about this club trip… Phos, right?” 

“Yeah, that’s the name. I mean, it’s short for Phosphophyllite but I can barely say it without choking so Phos is more than fine-“ they stopped themselves when they saw Lapis gesturing for them to cut it out, and, inexplicably, Phos did, unable to find a reason why. They didn’t owe Lapis. They weren’t even friends.

“And, uhm, about the trip-” they stuttered.

And that’s when Lapis mouthed, syllables mute and yet so blissfully clear: ‘Antarc wants to go. Explain later,’ and Phos clung to that one name, the one they would recognize everywhere, the one they dreamed of at night and could never get enough of hearing. Antarc. Antarcticite.

“It seems like a splendid idea,” they said, as Euclase’s plain features moved in a concealed display of disbelief.

Chapter Text

Cairngorm grumbled a curse under their breath for what felt like the seventeenth time that afternoon. When no one paid them any mind, as it had been the case for the previous sixteen attempts, they mouthed it out loud, doing their best to convey the exact shade that their bottomless boredom had reached after spending almost twenty minutes looking at the same, boring flowers.

“Fuck,” they exclaimed most eloquently.

Ghost brought a finger to their lips to shush their sibling but other than that, they seemed unfazed.

“Look at this,” they gasped, marveling at the umpteenth blurry display of what Cairn assumed were barely more than very colorful vegetables. “You can feel the pain of the artist as he’s losing his sight.”

“I can draw better plants.”

“It’s water lilies.”

“They don’t even look like water lilies!”

“That’s not the point, it’s impressionism. Look at the light, the sad maroons...”

Cairngorm scoffed, crossing their arms behind their head.

“It reminds me of the scorching fire of a burnt witch,” Ghost mumbled, absorbed in the picture. “The white could be their dress. Did you know they used to torture them naked and then put them in white robes before burning them? I studied it for history class.”

“Nerd,” Cairngorm supplied, gazing at the picture one last time before darting their eyes around the room, looking for the rest of the company. 

Truth be told, Cairngorm wasn’t really minding the exposition, not too much at least. As an occasional artist, they kept many a secret folder on their computer for references and ideas and, while they preferred the dramatic shadows and lines of late renaissance paintings, Monet’s studies on light were pretty cool. The curators of the exposition had managed to gather a decent ensemble of nice canvas and the interactive parts of the exposition were nice. One room was completely covered in flashes of pink and blue light, shifting to the rhythm of the music that filled the place, so that it gave the impression of walking underwater, among the lilies, when one stepped inside of it.

No, what unnerved Cairngorm beyond reason was the fact that they had blatantly been third-wheeled. Or fourth-wheeled. Padparadscha had disappeared as soon as Lapis had told them that Yellow Diamond had casually decided to visit the exposition as well. “You’re all grown ups, right? You’ll manage.” Chrysoberyl and Alexandrite had disappeared as well behind the excuse that the director was an old friend of Alex’s and they were dying to speak with them. Talk about adults. Euclase had followed right after them when Lapis pushed them along and Cairn found themselves stuck in this goddamned place with Ghost, Antarc and Phos, who had given them the puppy eyes because ‘you can’t leave me alone with Antarc just to go after the asshole who doesn’t love you back. At least one of us still has hope for a romance.’ Cairn told them to go fuck themselves but Ghost sided up with Phos too and by the time they were done arguing, they had long lost sight of the others.

Just to rub salt in Cairn’s wounds, Antarcticite mumbled something about impasto behind Cairn’s back, blissfully oblivious to the whole thing, and Phos squealed for the umpteenth time.

“You’re so smart, Antarc. Can you explain that to me?”

Cairngorm wanted to gag.

“Lapis owes me,” they mumbled, “they’re so dead.”

-----

Another wall of water lilies passed Euclase’s gaze as Lapis trotted along in front of them, following Alexandrite. 

It was funny. They all looked like a train of third graders. The director was paving the way as she gesticulated furiously left and right, commenting this or that other piece of the exhibition, Alexandrite followed suit and nodded every two words, dropping a comment here and there. Chrysoberyl was right behind them, following Alex's steps in silent adoration, and finally Lapis and Euclase tagging along behind them, to close the procession.

Lapis stole a glance behind their shoulders to see if Euclase was still there and Euclase suppressed a yawn to keep up their good-teacher façade.

It wasn’t like Euclase hated art. Their opinion towards it fluctuated between indifference and perplexity. They supposed art must have had a purpose when it was an actual job, regulated by gilds and such, back in the days of the great renaissance painters, but now it served no purpose at all, not without attaching itself to some billboard or by becoming a movie or a videogame. Art for art’s sake just sounded petty in Euclase’s mind. Some food for thought to chew on, but what did Monet’s pursuit of the perfect light at the expense of the Salon had to do with Euclase or the 21 st century? How did it have a use? How did it benefit society? 

It was just like literature.

“Wait-“

Speak of the devil. The student grabbed Euc’s sleeve, halting them just as Euclase was about to walk right out of the room and into the next. Euclase flinched, a little embarrassed. They hadn’t noticed that Lapis had stopped to look at one of the paintings.

“Sorry,” Euclase apologized, hugging their arm to their chest. There was something unsettling about the way Lapis had touched them.

The student didn’t seem to notice. They were bent forward toward the painting, long blue locks dripping like a dark curtain all around their face as they tried to drink in some deeper meaning, hidden beneath the colors.

“Wow,” Lapis mumbled under their breath, eyes half-lidded. They reached out with their hand, fingers moving slowly as if they wanted to graze the painting, glide over it and absorb its story. Thankfully, they stopped midair and Lapis put away their hand with reverence. Then they turned towards Euclase and grinned.

It was a strange expression on Lapis’ face. They looked younger somehow, even if they were already little more than a kid. They looked… pure. A child grinning mischievously but truthfully, a child who promised not to hide frogs in their teacher’s desk anymore but who won’t lie when asked about how much fun it was.

“What is it about?” Euclase asked, walking a step closer.

“What does it tell you?” Lapis replied, stepping aside so that Euclase could get a better view.

“I don’t know,” Euc shrugged, “What the title says, I guess.”

“Yeah, but how does it make you feel?”

Euclase took in a gulp of air and held onto it as they squinted to take a better look. Nothing changed: the painting was still a marine scene, with boats and seagulls and lots of colorful clouds. It was pretty, they wouldn’t deny it, but they failed to see whatever was that Lapis meant.

“Like taking a stroll by the harbor? It’s pretty,” they shrugged.

Lapis chuckled, covering their mouth with their hand. In the span of a second, that pure expression had left their face and their voice was back to the one Euc had gotten used to.

“Pretty, yeah,” they condescended, “How very eloquent, professor.”

“How would you describe it then?” Euclase retorted. Lapis wasn’t worth losing their patience over.

Lapis Lazuli smiled, they brushed a lock of hair behind their ear.

“A cage with its door squinting open. A child learning how to write. The artist learning the first sentences of a language he will be trying to master for all of his life. And failing. Because you can’t capture beauty. Hubris. That’s how I would describe it. Wishing for something you can never have, and yet you can’t stop trying.”

Euclase stood silently as Lapis kept on speaking. They moved their eyes from the painting to Lapis Lazuli to the painting again. What was Lapis even saying? 

“Don’t you think that’s a bit pretentious?” they said.

“Of course not,” Lapis chuckled, “That was extremely pretentious. But true. Are you upset?”

“Why would I be?” Euclase smiled, “You’re funny.”

Lapis Lazuli returned Euclase’s smile, their expression now similar to the one Euc had seen just a moment before. 

“Come,” Lapis said, “there’s another row of paintings waiting for my pretentious commentary and your STEM-induced indifference,” and without even looking at Euc, they grabbed their hand and walked toward the next painting.

Euclase looked at their conjoined hands for a perplexed second before gently wiggling their hand free- to which Lapis didn’t object. They looked completely enraptured, admiring what seemed like a very foggy-looking church.

“You must be familiar with this, at least,” they said in Euclase’s general direction.

“You misunderstood me,” Euclase replied, “it’s not that I’m unfamiliar with art. I just don’t see the point.”

“That’s scandalous. You should be ashamed of yourself. A person as brilliant as you…”

“I’m not brilliant,” Euclase shrugged, “I’m just good at my job.”

Lapis Lazuli turned towards them at that, their eyes shining with a fierceness Euclase had not expected.

“You’re fucking brilliant,” Lapis mumbled slowly, “You are the smartest, most shrewd person I know. You’re the most interesting. By far.”  

“What about your friends?” Euclase tried to change the topic, shifting their gaze on another painting.

“Will you be my friend, Euclase?”

Euclase stood still for what felt like an eternity, as if paralyzed. They must have gone wrong somewhere, the boundaries they had set, the ones they had reminded themselves to always keep up, must have slipped along the way and now Euclase was exposed. They were human, they felt human again. A single organism in a network of smiling, human dots, and Lapis was the one pulling the strings and trying to tie Euclase to them. It was so wrong.

“It’s doctor to you,” Euclase replied, their voice as distant as they could muster. They thought it would hurt Lapis, better now than later, but Lapis Lazuli simply chuckled, brushing it off.

“Alright, doctor. Will you be my friend?”

Euclase swallowed. The fog that surrounded the cathedral suddenly getting denser.

“You really do like me,” they mumbled . 

“Well, duh,” Lapis grinned, swinging their hair behind their shoulder, “Of course I do.”

“You know I’m never going to return your feelings.”

“I know. Do you?”

“What?”

“Are you sure you’re never going to reciprocate? How can you predict how you’ll feel tomorrow, a week from now, a month from now… Do you really know yourself that well? I admire you, professor.”

“Stop saying such things, we’re in a public space.”

“Oh, right, maybe we should go somewhere more private.”

“Stop or I swear I’ll fail you.”

“My, how cruel. What happened to professor fair?”

“And it’s doctor.”

“Doctor, professor, Euclase… what’s the difference? I like you anyway.”

“And stop saying that. I should have seen this coming when you invited me.”

“Oh, but you did,” Lapis smiled, “You totally saw this coming. You’re too smart to fall into my traps, but not disinterested enough to walk away from them. Instead, you deliberately waltz right into them, with an innocent smile on your face, and then you blame your poor professional morals and me for your selfish choices-“

“Stop it-”

“Truth hurts. But it’s okay. I love this about you. I do.”

“Well, I don’t,” Euclase cut them out.

“I’m sorry about it,” Lapis said, “I hope I can make you change your mind.”

“I’d rather you not.”

“Sorry for upsetting you. Let’s keep enjoying the exhibition, shall we? I think the guys left us behind.”

Lapis offered Euc their hand to take again but this time Euclase just kept on walking, stepping out of the room in silence. Lapis followed them, their soft chuckle reached Euclase’s ears unabashed and clear, making Euclase feel every bit of the fool they were. 

----- 

Phosphophyllite stole a glance behind their shoulders as Antarc kept nerding on about art. It pained Phos to diverge their attention, but they felt the increasing weight of Cairngorm's scowl looming over their head.

Phos felt so guilty for third-wheeling their friend, but what could a poor, lovesick Phosphophyllite do? They were just a simple-minded coward. Still, the stupidest, most clichey idea had just taken form within their pea-sized brain and, coward or not, Phosphophyllite thought they might as well follow it.

“Uh, Antarc,” they mumbled.

“Yes?” the other replied, turning towards Phos.

“Is it okay if we stop by the toilets? I’d like to, uh, freshen-up a bit?”

Phos didn't have the time to congratulate themselves that they were already mentally smacking themselves in the head. Who said ‘freshen-up a bit’ in the 21 st century? Why couldn’t their brain supply them with a decent sentence? But again, since this was Antarc they were speaking to, maybe being old-fashioned was okay. Wouldn’t want to shock them with juvenile slang or anything.

“Sure,” Antarc said, “Do you know where to go?”

“Of course!” said Phos, who didn’t have the slightest idea where to go, “Follow me.”

“Where are you going, guys?” Ghost mumbled, materializing behind Phos as if from thin air. Phos jumped.

“B-bathroom. Toilet. Be back in a sec.”

“Oh. Don’t get lost.”

“Wait, you’re leaving too?-“ Cairn started, but Phos grabbed Antarc’s hand and sprinted toward the next room.

“We’ll be back, have fun!” they waved and unceremoniously dragged Antarc away with them.

Now that Phos' sole braincell was in full gear thanks to adrenaline, their brain was finally free to concentrate on more pressing details, such as finding the bathroom. Or realizing that they had grabbed Antarc’s hand. And that they were still holding onto it.

“Ah!” Phos exclaimed, letting go of it as if it were poisonous.

“Phos, what’s wrong?” Antarc asked.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean. I didn’t think. I mean, I never think but this time I should have thought and-“

“Are you okay? You look hot,” Antarc said and placed a hand on Phos’ forehead to feel their temperature, “you’re all flustered.”

In Phos’ defense, they tried their best not to combust on the spot. Antarc had no right being this oblivious to social situations, or to Phos’ awful brand of idiot in love. 

“I’m- I’m fine, I’m great!” and boy were they. They were still in one piece, no signs of burns or of limbs suddenly crumbling to the ground. Phos should really pat their own back and congratulate their monkey brain.

“Is it something I’ve done?” Antarc asked.

“Nononono, of course not, how could it be? You’re perfect,” thanks, monkey brain, “I mean, I’m a mess- I mean-“

“Uhm, Phos,” Antarc mumbled, hugging their arm, “now that we’re alone. There is something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“W-what?”

Phos’ face must have been speaking words because Antarc diverted their gaze, looking uneasy all of a sudden.

“Maybe this isn’t the right place and time, after all. I’m sorry. I just figured I should be sincere.”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry,” Phos rushed to save the situation, “I was just surprised, is all. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, well, more like ask you, for a while too and- but, you go first, please.”

“Oh,” Antarcticite nodded, “What is it?”

“You go first,” Phos insisted, holding their breath and hoping the universe would mercifully kill them before the moment came. 

“I like you,” Antarc said. 

Phos stared.

Truth be told, it was so unfair the ease with whom Antarc said it. Matter of factly. How dare they be so perfect. It looked so easy. So easy that Phos choked on their breath.

“Phos,” Antarc rushed to help them when Phos started coughing, “Are you okay?”

Phos was fucking great. Who needed oxygen anyway? They tried to reassure Antarc with a gesture but Antarc picked that moment to place a hand on Phos’ shoulder and Phos doubled up in a new fit of coughs. Fucking great, just like they said.

“Yes,” Phos finally managed to croak, “Yes. God. I’m fine. God.” 

“Maybe you have a cold. You were hot before, too. You should go home.”

“No!” Phos protested, “Sorry. I’m fine. Like, woah, I’m fine. Never been finer.”

“I don’t understand,” Antarc mumbled.

“Uh, how do I put it,” Phos breathed in, running a hand through their hair, “I’m so damn happy. And confused. And I feel like I’m about to vomit up rainbows and no- before you ask, it’s not a bad thing. I promise. Cause, you know, I never thought I’d hear that from you.”

“You’re starting to worry me, Phos.”

“I like you too,” Phos blurted out, “like, a whole lot. Like I could choke on it. Speaking of which, I think I just did. Like I wanna hold your hand and go to another ten nerd exhibitions if it means being with you, like I could suffer through reading a thousand books or write a million essays just to spend time with you while you correct them. Like I could seriously start to appreciate nerd stuff even with my pea-sized brain. Like… like I like you. A lot. A whole fucking lot. And I need someone to hit me in the head cause you like me. Like, you like me? Me? The idiot? This must be a joke, there must be a hidden camera somewhere.”

And just like that Antarc did the most adorable, beautiful, breathtaking thing Phos had seen them do so far. And that was saying a lot because everything Antarc did was adorable, beautiful and breathtaking. Pure show-stopping amazingness. 

Antarc started laughing. 

A cute, adorable chuckle at first, and then they put a hand over their mouth and their shoulders started shaking to the rhythm of their laugh and oh god, here went Phos’ judgment. Every thought suddenly disappeared from their mind and they felt every bit of the lanky, lovesick goo they knew they were for the beautiful nerd in front of them.

“You’re cute,” Antarc chuckled, “I’m happy.”

“No, you,” Phos replied, “you’re so fucking cute. You have no idea. It’ll give me a stroke someday, and I’ll be happy about it.”

“I’d rather it didn’t.”

“Eh, I’ll live.”

“I’m glad,” Antarc said, readjusting their sweater now that the fit of laughter had died down. Then they did another adorable thing and offered Phos their hand to take, “shall we continue?”

Phos looked at Antarc’s outstretched hand as if it was a mirage and could disappear any second. With every bit of courage left in their body, they took it, feeling an electric tingle run up their spine as their whole being was overcome with giddiness. They must have had the stupidest smile plastered on their face because Antarc smiled again and Phos’ heart skipped another beat. 

They spluttered some very eloquent gibberish and followed along as Antarc carried them wherever it was that they had in mind.