Archive of Our Own

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It all starts with Sylvain, as most terrible things do. If you asked Ashe to name every terrible thing Sylvain’s ever started, he’d need a few more hands on deck, and even then he’d be forgetting some of it (A lot of it. He would be forgetting a lot of it).

So, keeping this in mind, Ashe braces himself for the awful murderous intent that he knows will most likely be swirling through his brain when said ginger swings the door open to their little store and yells, “Hey, Ashe!”

“Oh, dear,” Mercedes says blithely from the front counter as she sets her book down and slips her reading glasses off. She sounds wholeheartedly unenthused. “Good afternoon, Sylvain.”

Sylvain grins as he strides up to her and lifts her hand up rakishly, pressing a kiss to her fingers. Mercedes giggles even as she methodically slips her hand out of his grip. “Why, you don’t sound very happy to see me, Mercie!”

“Really, now?” Mercedes replies, giving him a sweet smile. “I wonder why that is…”

Ashe sighs as he steps off the last rung of the ladder, dusting off his hoodie and picking up his book from where he’d left it on the roof of the shelf across from him. Sylvain’s eyes light up when he catches sight of Ashe. “Is there something you needed, Sylvain?” He asks politely. “If you want some herbs, I’m afraid you’ll have to order them online.”

“Fifty percent off on our potions as well!” Mercedes says cheerily, opening her book again. “Big summer blowout, as they say!”

Sylvain blinks at Mercedes even as their friend continues reading. “Mercie, it’s fall,” he points out, looking a little anguished. “Plus, you can’t just make Frozen references like that!”

Mercedes kindly ignores him. Ashe decides to take charge as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sylvain,” he says. “Do you need anything?”

Sylvain shrugs easily. This tells Ashe that Sylvain doesn't, in fact, need anything. “Just wanted to check up on you! Is that so bad?”

Ashe stares at him. Sylvain stares back with a grin plastered onto his face. Ashe continues to stare.

Sylvain breaks after approximately twelve seconds, and Ashe wonders if he should draw a rune for that and declare it a new power.

“Fine, okay,” Sylvain mutters, looking peevish as he scratches the back of his neck and drums the fingers of his other hand on the counter. And then he utters the words of absolute doom, the start to this entire damned-in-advance thing—“I have a proposition for you.”

one 🍰♡

Ashe is pretty sure this is where he should say something like You’re probably wondering how I ended up here, but first, some guidelines, because Ashe is courteous and wouldn’t want anyone to go through what he goes through on a weekly basis. So, because of that:

Crash course—Witchcraft 101—Rule one: never, ever say no to a necromancer.

Why? That’s a good question. Necromancers like to get their revenge in the most unconventional of ways, such as, for example, raising a sinister army of the dead for practice and accidentally unleashing them upon their target of ill intent. Not like Ashe thinks Sylvain would ever do that, because a) Sylvain’s an idiot, but he isn’t batshit crazy (a theory that Ashe has yet to really prove) and b) it’s also highly illegal in the laws of magic. It’s a smart move on his part, really.

No, Sylvain would prefer to take his revenge in his own, simple way—as in, using spirits to scare the living shit out of everyone he can get his hands on, but specifically Ashe and Annette, because he’s just an asshole like that. It’s a routine that Claude, an illusionist down the street, finds absolutely hilarious and so he joins in as much as possible—and if there’s anything worse than rule one, it’s rule two: never say no to a necromancer and an illusionist when they’re together.

If it hadn’t settled in already, Ashe is mildly terrified of Sylvain. Perhaps that’s the Too Long; Didn’t Read of this entire fucking mess, because Ashe is fairly sure he resigned himself to Sylvain’s will as soon as he stepped into their store. And so, here he stands outside a small, recently-built bakery just off of the neighborhood, with some flowers in hand and anxiety absolutely eating him alive.

But he can’t stand out here any longer, so he looks at the flowers Sylvain ordered for him and says, “We’re really in it now, you guys,” and opens the door to step inside.

It’s seven am on a Sunday and they live in a sleepy town, so the bakery is understandably empty, save for an exhausted-looking girl he doesn't recognize on her phone in a corner booth. It’s cute, really, and maybe Ashe would appreciate the soft tones of the bakery and the smell, pleasant and sweet, if he weren’t currently about to launch himself headfirst into a fit of rage. 

The girl behind the counter is petite with long white hair and the kind of jeweled pink eyes that clue Ashe in to the fact that she’s probably a major rune witch, which doesn't surprise him in the slightest—witches everywhere tend to be drawn to their community, which is why there’s so many of them there in the first place. She raises an eyebrow at him and closes her textbook, pushing it off to the side with a smile. “Good morning!” She says. “Welcome to Ordelia’s breakfast bakery!”

“Um, hey!” Ashe says, shoving as much cheer into his tone as possible. He really didn’t want to get up this morning just for this, but Sylvain had insisted that it was necessary because he thought there would be too many customers if Ashe went around noontime. Fuck capitalism, is what Ashe wants to respond with, but he digresses.

The girl looks overly excited to see him and seems completely unaware of it, which Ashe finds undeniably endearing. “I’m Lysithea!” She says. “I moved here only recently with a couple of friends. I go to the university in the city, but I live here now. What’s your name?”

He can’t help but smile. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Ashe! I also attend Garreg Mach, but I’m mostly enrolled in online classes. Majoring in literature, and all.” He eyes her carefully. “Rune witch? We have a lot of those here.”

Lysithea looks a bit embarrassed as she laughs. “Um, yeah, actually. How’d you know?”

“Your eyes,” Ashe answers, and Lysithea blinks. She must be new to this whole thing, which means Ashe can go ahead and assume she’s younger than he is, at least. “I mean, I don’t know what kind of rune witch you are, of course, but it’s just a tell.”

“I see,” Lysithea hums. She reaches out to her textbook to slide it back to herself and opens it up, and Ashe realizes it isn’t really a textbook, but a book of basic dark spells—and then she wrinkles her nose when she realizes he’s staring, and Ashe promptly looks back up at her. “I’m a necromancer,” she explains, and ah. That makes sense, in a way, what with her pure white hair and the runes on the back of her hand, something Ashe can’t quite place. 

“We have a few necromancers here!” He says. “Hubert and Sylvain. I can introduce you to them if you want.”

Lysithea’s eyes light up. “Would you really?”

“Yeah!” He grins at her. “I mean… well, they definitely have… personalities. But there’s no reason to be intimidated by either of them, really.” He decides not to mention the fact that Hubert is, indeed, one of the most terrifying people he’s ever met, and Sylvain may be easy on the eyes but he definitely isn't easy on the heart, because Ashe is trying to make a good impression here.

Lysithea smiles back. “That sounds nice.” Then she blinks, like she’s realizing where she is, and gasps. “Oh! I should be asking you if you wanna buy anything, I’m so sorry.”

It’s the moment of truth. Ashe winces. “Actually…” he lifts his bouquet of flowers up. “Um, this might sound weird, but… a friend wanted me to give this to, um, a certain boy who works here.” He lowers his voice. “I think his name might be Felix?”

(And so this is where it all truly starts—Sylvain had looked around the clearly empty store as if someone was hiding behind a shelf or something before leaning forward and straight into Ashe's personal space. He'd stood there and looked into Ashe's eyes for a beat too long, right before saying—“His name's Felix, and he's the love of my life.")

"There's no way he's the love of your life, Sylvain," Ashe said disapprovingly. "Stop idealizing true love."

"I'm not idealizing anything!" He'd protested. "I'm just—you just gotta meet him, and then you'll see. And you will.")

Now, Lysithea’s eyes widen as she does her best to suppress a smile. “Oh, Felix would hate this,” she hisses gleefully, which makes Ashe’s heart rate accelerate to terrifying levels as she leans back and yells, “Felix! Get over here!”

“Should I be afraid?” Ashe asks weakly, and Lysithea giggles.

“Nah,” she says. “Well, maybe your friend should be afraid, but I digress.”

Ashe breathes a sigh of relief until he realizes that means Sylvain will haunt the house they share for weeks on end, and his heart promptly attempts to exit his mouth.

When Felix steps out of the back, Ashe immediately understands what Lysithea meant, because his caramel eyes are fierce even through the amount of ingredients splattered around his light brown apron and the ridiculous smear of dried dough on his cheek, which Ashe would laugh at if Felix weren’t glaring at him sharply. His deep blue hair is tied up into an odd sort of side ponytail, and his lips press together impatiently as he glances between Ashe and Lysithea. “What is it?”

“Customer service skills, Felix!” Lysithea chastises, hands on her hips. “We talked about this!”

“I don’t recall that ever happening.”

“That’s probably because you fell asleep three minutes into my pep talk,” she mutters.

“Ah.” Felix nods quite amiably. “That would make sense. You’re pretty boring, you know.”

Lysithea pinches the bridge of her nose for a moment before she collects herself. “I’m not even gonna say anything to that. That would be stooping to your level. Anyway,” she snaps when Felix smirks and opens his mouth again, “Ashe, this is Felix. Felix, this is Ashe. He’s come with some flowers for you!”

Felix’s mouth makes a little o as he glances at Ashe and then down at his hands holding the flowers, clasped together so tightly Ashe is surprised the stems haven’t snapped apart yet. “Uh, for me?”

“Yes,” Ashe squeaks. His voice cracks embarrassingly and Lysithea hides a bark of laughter behind a poorly constructed cough. He glares at her before clearing his throat. “Um, I have a friend! Who… well, he wanted to give this to you. Um. A warm welcome of sorts?”

Felix wipes his hands on his apron and comes around the counter to stand in front of him, and Ashe is soothed by the fact that they’re the same height, at least. “Your friend wanted to give me a warm welcome by having you personally send flowers to me instead of doing it himself?”

It’s said with so much derision in his tone that Ashe signs himself off to the angel of death in advance. “Yes?”

“Well,” Felix says dryly. “You can tell him I’m already taken. Also, I’m allergic to carnations.”

Rest in peace, Ashe, he thinks to himself mournfully. Rest in peace. “Is that so?” He manages to get out. “God, I’m so embarrassed. I’m sorry, he’s just—um, Sylvain’s just like that.”

Felix rolls his eyes. “I can tell. I’ve seen him around. Tell him I’m not interested.”

“Alright,” Ashe chokes out, “he’s gonna kill me for this, isn’t he.”

Lysithea wrinkles her nose at him. “Why would he kill you? He should’ve come here himself if he wanted to talk to Felix so badly! Which I can’t quite understand, by the way. Why anyone would want to talk to Felix is beyond me.”

“You’re such a piece of shit,” Felix mutters. Lysithea sticks her tongue out at him.

Ashe is about to explain that Sylvain’s an arcane necromancer and he really doesn't want to be haunted as a joke for the next month—especially since Halloween is happening in a little over a month—when the door to the back pushes open again and the tallest guy Ashe has ever seen lumbers out. He’s dark-skinned with white hair and smile lines around his eyes even as his lips twist into a little disapproving frown as he glances between Lysithea and Felix before looking at Ashe. “I hope you two aren’t arguing in front of a customer,” he says in the kind of tired, knowing voice that suggests this has happened before.

His voice is deep, calm, and it sends an involuntary shock down Ashe’s spine. His brain decides to inform the rest of his body that Hey, this guy’s fucking attractive, and Ashe starts feeling his cheeks heat up of their own accord when the man turns his kind eyes back on him. “I hope they weren’t bothering you,” he says.

“Of—of course not,” Ashe manages to stammer out, wincing internally at how his voice shakes. “I just—I was probably bothering Felix here, actually.”

“You absolutely were,” Felix agrees apathetically, looking him up and down. “I’m so fucking irritated.”

“Felix, shut up!” Lysithea snaps before turning back to the man, who blinks at her. “We weren’t doing anything. Ashe just wanted to give us a warm welcome! Um, meet Ashe? Ashe, this is Dedue. He’s our best baker.” She gives Felix the stink-eye as she says this, and for a moment Ashe wonders if she’s who Felix is taken by, before Felix’s eyes twitch towards the knife left out near the back. Yeah. Definitely not it, in Ashe’s opinion.

Unless... that’s what they’re into. He gets effectively distracted by that line of thinking by Dedue smiling warmly at him, and he melts into the cracks of the wood flooring. “It’s nice to meet you,” Dedue says politely.

“Nice to meet you too,” Ashe says, before glancing down at the flowers and back up at Felix, who blinks lazily, like a cat. It’s only then that Ashe notices the strength rune on his wrist, too, and he thinks, fuck. “I should just… bring these flowers back.”

“Obviously,” Felix drawls. “I mean, do you want me to have an allergic reaction?”

Dedue sends Felix a look before coming around the counter and wiping his hands on his apron, holding a hand out for the flowers. “I will take them,” he says. “I’ll leave them out on the back. It fits the color scheme.”

“Of course!” Ashe says with a beam, handing the flowers over. “That’s… that’s totally what we were going for.”

“I’m sure,” Dedue says amiably. His hands are warm and calloused when they brush over Ashe’s as he takes the flowers, and his fingers tingle. “Would you like a snack before you go?”

“I… I guess I wouldn’t complain,” Ashe says, and Dedue smiles at him. Felix gives them a deadpan look and Lysithea grins from ear to ear, and Ashe thinks, Yeah, I’m fucked.

two 🍰♡

Ashe has to break the news to Sylvain the next morning over tea and breakfast at Dorothea’s little cottage, meaning Sylvain is essentially about to get publicly humiliated and it’s all Ashe’s fault. So much for following rule one, he thinks to himself mournfully. “Sylvain,” he says in the kindest, sweetest, please-don’t-cry-or-scare-me-tonight tone of voice he can stand to muster up, holding his cup of chamomile tea up to his lips and staring down into the liquid contents as Sylvain looks at him hopefully. “Before I tell you this, please know that I love you and appreciate you for who you really are, and I’m proud of you for coming as far as you have.”

Sylvain blinks at him as he stabs a pancake with his fork and stuffs half of it in his mouth in one go, and Ashe has to bury his grimace under a pained smile. “Um, sure,” he says after he’s swallowed, and Ashe thinks, at least he has some manners. “Love you too, man. What’s up?”

Ashe gulps. Makes eye contact with Dorothea, who sips her tea serenely and dutifully refuses to help from where she stands behind her counter, and looks back at Sylvain, who squints at him carefully. And then he just decides to say it. “You know that guy you wanted me to give your flowers to? The one at the bakery? He, uh.”

Sylvain continues staring at him. Di immortales. There is no possible way Sylvain can’t already understand what’s about to come out of Ashe’s mouth.

He smiles at Sylvain and takes a sip of his tea, basking in the warmth that washes over him before he realizes that he can’t put this off any longer. “Felix is, um, well. He’s taken, actually.”

Sylvain stares at Ashe. and he stares, and he stares, unblinking all the while, and Ashe wonders if this is really it. If this is Sylvain’s final stand, because the ground underneath his feet can only hold up for so long, and then he thinks, fuck, he’s gonna unleash his undead army at me and promptly has to stop himself from panicking.

“He’s taken,” Sylvain says slowly, voice going a little dark, and now even Dorothea looks a bit worried.

Ashe manages to squeak out a pathetic-sounding “Y-yes, he is. He liked your flowers, though! Although, um… um.”

“What.” Sylvain’s face is carefully blank.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Ashe says weakly. “I really, really shouldn’t have said that. But he just… happened to be allergic to the white carnations. He took the flowers anyway, though.” He refrains from mentioning that it was Dedue who took the flowers, because he doesn't want to stomp on Sylvain’s heart any further than he already has, and any thought of Dedue sends nerves through his stomach like he’s an embarrassing pre-teen all over again and not a self-taught charms and herbs witch.

Sylvain’s left eye twitches. “I see. Alright. Well, thank you for telling me.”

“You know, Sylvain,” Dorothea says from her kitchen, dropping her cup into the sink, “this side of you is perhaps more terrifying than if you’d actually gotten angry.”

Sylvain pouts down at his food. “I don’t even have a right to get angry,” he complains, running a hand through his hair. “I tried to shoot my shot and it didn’t work out, I guess! He’s attractive as hell, so I’m not surprised. But ugh , man. How do all the cute guys manage to be taken? They’re either into a stupidly specific standard of men, they’re straight, or they’re fucking taken .”

“Sylvain, you’re literally into men as well,” Dorothea points out. “You’re bisexual yourself, so?”

Sylvain turns a grin on her. “Aww. Does this mean you find me cute, Dorothea?”

Dorothea’s girlfriend chooses just then to step into the cottage. Edelgard’s light brown hair falls over bare shoulders, her white sundress flowing along with her as she carries a few bags of what Ashe decides are either groceries or poisons. Edelgard gives Sylvain a look that suggests he should probably shut up. “Good morning, Sylvain,” she says. “Breakfast here again? I had assumed you had your own place of residence.”

“Don’t sound so condescending!” Sylvain jokes. “You wound me! No, Ashe and I just need our own respective ingredients, and Dorothea offered us breakfast.”

“That is not how it happened,” Dorothea protests, a hand on her hip. “I’m pretty sure you begged me for food that I was already making for me and Edelgard, considering, well, you know. This is where we live.”

Edelgard smiles fondly as she kisses Dorothea’s cheek. “My girlfriend’s just so kind, isn’t she?”

“She is,” Sylvain demurs easily. “You guys are so lucky to have each other.”

Edelgard sighs, choosing not to answer him as she nods her acknowledgement at Ashe. “Good morning, Ashe,” she says warmly. “How are Mercedes and Ingrid doing? We’ve been busy over here with harvests and orders, so I haven’t had time to catch up.”

“They’re fine,” Ashe says with a smile. “Mercedes has been testing out new healing spells and using Ingrid as practice. Can I have some of the base for our potions?”

“I might have some of the ingredients in my bag already,” Edelgard mutters to herself as she rummages through the bags before she lights up. “Aha! Basic potion stuff here, Ashe. I even got some extra tea for you. Sylvain, you’ll have to look for the incantation book somewhere.”

“Thank you, Edelgard!” Ashe says satisfied with the bag she hands him. “You’re so considerate.”

Sylvain pouts. “Not to me,” he complains. “You never have the incantations book.”

Dorothea takes a bite out of her pancake and doesn't even bother with swallowing her food as she says, “I’m pretty sure that book is with Hubie.”

Sylvain grimaces. “Uh… yeah, not happening. I guess I’ll have to pass on it today. Let’s head out, Ashe.”

Ashe is an optimist, meaning he easily assumes that the subject is dropped as they walk out together and down the path leading back to their house. He’s wholeheartedly wrong, which is disappointing.

“You have to tell me who he’s with,” Sylvain begs not even fifteen seconds into their walk. “I need to know!”

Ashe sighs, hunching his shoulders against the cold. Sylvain keeps walking, unaffected by the mid-autumn chill, and it only makes him look more arrogant. “Don’t be weird, Sylvain.”

“This isn’t being weird. This is just pure and honest curiosity, you feel me?”

“Not really,” Ashe says dryly, and Sylvain pouts. “Look, Syl, I don’t even know who it is. He just mentioned he was taken, alright?”

“You suck,” Sylvain says with a huff. “I guess I’ll just have to find out myself.” It’s said almost threateningly, and Ashe’s bad vibes sensors are about to go off before Sylvain takes out his phone and opens his Instagram. “Social media stalking is a power in and of itself, don’t you think?”

Ashe is so, so tired. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

It’s blissfully silent for the next few minutes, save for Sylvain’s cheerful humming as he scrolls through his phone and the crunch of leaves beneath their feet, the rustle of the bag in his hands and the whistle of the wind through the trees. And then Ashe finds himself thinking about his bakery visit yesterday again.

Ashe has never been able to discern whether or not he’s a love at first sight kind of person. He knows he probably looks the part, but it’s never really worked out that way from him—or maybe he’s just never had the chance, save for the insanity-induced three-week crush he’d had on Sylvain when they first moved together last year. Or maybe he’s just traumatized from that moment of misplaced judgement. It doesn't really matter, anyway, because he knows he’s already got a crush on Dedue, and it’s a bad one.

After Dedue accepted the flowers from him, he’d offered him a few cakes he’d made, and Ashe—well, he’s not a whore, but who knows? It’s really not his fault Dedue checks all of his boxes without even trying, with his broad frame (and broad’s an understatement) and deep voice and warm eyes and the way his large hand had felt on Ashe’s back as he carefully ushered him out of the back because the bakery was getting busy and Ashe had a quiz to take anyway—

He’s well and truly screwed, he thinks to himself mournfully. Well and truly screwed. He gets pulled out of his thoughts when Sylvain gasps and abruptly stops walking, reaching an arm out to drag Ashe back to him when he attempts to keep going on without him. “Ashe,” he hisses, practically glaring at his screen and then turning his eyes up at Ashe. “You didn’t fucking tell me Felix’s boyfriend is Dimitri.”

Ashe blinks. “Uh, sorry,” he says, not feeling very apologetic. “Wait. I don’t even know who that is?”

Sylvain stares at him incredulously for a moment. Then he drags a hand over his face before he starts walking again at a brisker pace, leaving Ashe to jog after him, damn his short legs and Sylvain’s unnecessarily long ones. “Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd,” he explains slowly as they exit the woods, like Ashe is a child, “Is in my one of my criminology classes. He’s my teaching assistant.”

“Oh,” Ashe nods. “So going after him and Felix would be unethical, since you’re a student. So you won’t.”

“What?” Sylvain side-eyes him. “You’re crazy if you think that’ll stop me. You do realize I’m a teaching assistant too, right?”

Ashe sighs. “Disappointed but not surprised,” he mutters.

Sylvain dutifully ignores him. “I feel like I’ll strike gold if I’m careful,” he murmurs to himself. “Since I already know the both of them… I doubt Dimitri has a good impression of me, though.”

Ashe winces. “Can you really blame him?”

“You’re right,” Sylvain agrees. “That doesn't mean I can’t give him a better impression of me, though. Felix too. I just need to figure this out! You’ll help me, right?”

He walks into the grocery store backwards as he says this, and the doors slide open behind him automatically. He’s giving Ashe a pleading look, and Ashe groans. “Sylvain, you’re kidding me. You know I have my own things to worry about, right?” Such as a certain cute baker down the street, but he isn’t going to tell Sylvain that. If anything, it’d just make everything worse than it already is.

Sylvain’s lips twist downward. “We all have our own things to deal with, you know,” he says wisely, as if he’s seeking genuine advice and isn’t suggesting Ashe be his wingman as he pursues two people who are already together. “C’mon, we’re best friends, aren’t we? Like, you’re my ride or die, man.”

“I’m sure,” Ashe mutters flatly as they wind over to the bread and cereal aisles. “Look, don’t you think this is weird, though? Like, they’re already together, Sylvain. You can’t just push your way into their lives like that. It feels manipulative.”

Sylvain grabs a box of flakes and says, “Good point. But what if I just wanted to be their friend?”

Ashe sends him a withering look. “Please don’t even start,” he says. “You so obviously want to get into their pants, it’s actually ridiculous.”

“It’s not nice to assume things about people, Ashe,” Sylvain accuses with a raised eyebrow.

Ashe feels bad almost immediately, a shitty combination of being too nice and the way Sylvain timbres his voice just enough to make him feel a shock of pity for him. Ashe sometimes wonders if Sylvain’s just a demon in disguise, because it would explain his ability to hook Ashe around his fingers despite Ashe being a self-proclaimed independent young man, and it would explain his abnormally powerful necromancy powers. “Don’t say that,” he protests. “You know that isn’t what I’m trying to do! I’m just… predicting future behavior based off past behavior.”

Sylvain gives him a look. “That’s literally the definition of an assumption, Ashe.”

“It’s not my fault!” Ashe exclaims—perhaps a little too loudly, because it makes Ignatz, currently organizing one of the shelves, jump back a little and send his glasses askew. “Oh, gods. Sorry, Ignatz!”

“You’re all good,” Ignatz says politely, fixing his glasses again and nodding at Sylvain. “Um, hey, Sylvain.”

“Good morning!” Sylvain says cheerfully, before dragging Ashe away. “That’s not the point,” he says, addressing Ashe. “The point is, I need you to help me, Ashe. Please. You’re way more likable than I am, and you’ve already officially met Felix. I mean, I met him too, but he just glared at me when I tried to say hello, so see? You’re just so good at this kind of stuff!”

Ashe drags a hand over his face. “He was using the extent of his customer service skills, Sylvain,” he points out. “I’m pretty sure he’d say the same exact thing to me if I tried to talk to him outside of his work environment.”

“No,” Sylvain says stubbornly. “You’re the one, Ashe. Please? I won’t haunt you for the rest of the year!”

He hates how genuinely appealing that sounds to him. “That’s literal blackmail,” he hisses anyway, because he needs to be strong. He can’t just fall over for Sylvain’s every whim and need, because that makes him look weak-willed and that cannot happen over and over again like some vicious cycle.

“It’s a negotiation,” Sylvain pleads. “C’mon, it isn’t that deep, Ashe! Just for a few weeks, please?”

Ashe doesn't even get to further his protests, because just then he catches sight of a broad figure and white hair pulled into a small bun at the nape of the guy’s neck, and he whimpers, “No. Not here, not here—”

“Huh?” Sylvain asks, bewildered. “We can talk about this later, if you want—”

“Shut up,” Ashe hisses, which effectively shuts Sylvain up, because Ashe is rarely ever that rude. Dedue starts to turn around from where he’s standing with a cart at the end of the baking supplies aisle a few aisles down from them, and Ashe squeaks, shoving Sylvain into the aisle and almost knocking him into the shelf as he attempts to get in, but it’s too late—Dedue’s already caught sight of him, and he’s already waving and coming over and Fuck, fuck, why is he coming over—

“I will turn your own corpses on you if you say a word,” Ashe says to Sylvain as Dedue approaches with who he thinks is Annette in tow. Sylvain stares at him, wide-eyed and almost a little hurt. Almost being the key word. “Just be quiet and stand there for two minutes. Two minutes, Sylvain.”

“Two minutes sounds like a long time,” Sylvain informs him, before clamping his mouth shut when Ashe gives him his sharpest glare. It probably isn’t that sharp, judging from the way Sylvain’s eyes still glimmer teasingly, but listen. He’s doing his best.

“Ashe!” Annette exclaims, looking far too happy to see him. “I didn’t expect to run into you today!” She’s holding a box of cereal in one hand and a carton of orange juice in the other, her almost offensively bright pink hoodie swamping her form. 

“It’s nice to see you here,” Ashe says genuinely, because he means it. “What’s up?”

“Nothing really. The other day I came here and got milk, and then I realized I don’t have cereal or orange juice, so I had to skip breakfast,” she says with a pout, before glancing up at Dedue and gasping. “Oh! Have you met Dedue yet?”

“We’ve already met,” Dedue says for him. He’s smiling sweetly—and maybe that’s just how all of his smiles look, so Ashe really shouldn’t be so flustered, and yet here he is anyway. “Good to run into you here, Ashe.”

“Absolutely,” Ashe squeaks, and he hears Sylvain’s little irritating huff of laughter from behind him. “Uh, you too!”

Annette blinks at the both of them. “You guys already know each other?”

“Yeah,” Ashe says quickly, because he’d really prefer not bringing Sylvain up at all. “Yesterday, at the bakery. I, um, had some flowers.”

Dedue raises an eyebrow knowingly. “They were not his flowers, however.”

“That’s true,” Ashe says with a pleading look that he hopes conveys his worries. “Because they’re yours now!”

Annette looks between the two of them with a confused little frown on her face. “Um,” she starts, “so you gave him flowers that weren’t yours? Because they’re Dedue’s? So… you gave Dedue his own flowers? I don’t think I comprehended that correctly, you guys.”

Dedue chuckles. “It wasn’t like that. Ashe had flowers from his friend that he meant to give to Felix, but Felix was allergic, so I just took them instead. They’re out in the garden now.”

So much for telepathically communicating with him, Ashe thinks to himself with a sigh. Annette snorts and shakes her head, and then says—“Why does that sound like something Sylvain would do?”

Ashe wants to bury his face in his hands when Sylvain immediately pokes his head out from over Ashe and says, “What’s that supposed to mean?” in a petulant tone.

“I said two minutes,” Ashe hisses, and Sylvain rolls his eyes.

“She’s making an attack on my dignity here, Ashe. A man’s gotta defend himself!”

Annette beams at Sylvain like she didn’t just insult him. “Hey, Syl!” She says cheerfully. “You look as cute as ever today!”

“Aww, stop it, Annie,” Sylvain demurs on reflex, before he catches himself and scowls. “Wait, hey! You can’t just distract me like that!”

Annette sighs defeatedly. “It was worth a shot,” she mutters to herself.

Dedue looks back and forth between the two of them, clearly lost, and Ashe decides to fill him in, because it’s far too late now anyway. “Dedue, meet Sylvain,” he says, “also known as… the guy that wanted to give flowers to Felix.”

“Oh, hey!” Sylvain says, holding a hand out and grinning almost maniacally at Dedue, who takes his hand firmly but with a confused, guarded look in his eyes. “Nice to meet you, man. You’re friends with Felix?”

“Yes,” Dedue confirms with a nod. “We’ve known each other for years. We met through Dimitri. Felix’s boyfriend.”

“Oh, so you know both of them, huh?” Sylvain says, his grin widening as he sends Ashe a side glance that makes Ashe promptly want to sock him in the face to get him to shut up. “That’s so cool! I know them too, I just… uh, I didn’t know they were together.”

He sounds almost sheepish now, talking to Dedue. It’s all made worse by the fact that Ashe knows Sylvain isn’t sorry in the slightest. Dedue seems to know this, but he doesn't say anything about it as he nods slowly. “At least you know now,” he says in the kind of voice that suggests he doesn't expect Sylvain to stop his advances anyway, and Sylvain beams.

Ashe secretly adds Good observer of character to his checklist of turn-ons, and then checks it off right away for Dedue. “Well, now that we all know each other,” he says, before Sylvain can potentially say something embarrassing, “Sylvain and I have to head out.”

“We do?” Sylvain asks, giving him a bewildered look, and Annette snickers.

“Yes, we do,” Ashe says with a forceful smile. “You have an appointment at two pm.”

“But it’s only ten in the morning?”

“You have to save your energy,” Ashe practically hisses out through his teeth, and briefly wonders why the gods cursed him with a guilty conscience strong enough for him to restrain himself from stomping on Sylvain’s foot. Or maybe that’s just the way Dedue eyes them calmly now, like he’s watching two cats playfight. “Right? Can’t have you drained afterwards.”

“Lots of things make me drained afterwards,” Sylvain says a matter-of-factly, and Annette gasps.

“Sylvain! You’re making a terrible first impression!”

“Right, right,” Sylvain says seriously, before he looks back up at Dedue. “Sorry about that! I’m just super comfortable with them, so things just slip out, you know?”

“If they slipped out,” Dedue says dryly, “then they were in your head in the first place.”

“That,” Sylvain says, sounding shocked as Annette starts to laugh and Ashe gapes at them, “is a really, really good point.”

I want to marry you, is what Ashe almost tells Dedue, before he bites his tongue and says, “We should probably go,” instead.

Dedue hums, turning his eyes on him, and Ashe can practically feel his involuntary flush. Gods, he hates this whole love-at-first-sight thing so much. “I’m sure you do,” he says. “Lysithea says she would like to see you again, by the way.”

“Really?” Ashe says, softening immediately. “I’ll come visit you guys when I’m not busy, then.”

“That sounds nice,” Dedue says. He keeps his eyes on him, and his gaze is so intense it almost sets Ashe on fire. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Aren’t you guys free right now?” Sylvain starts to say mischievously, silencing himself with a not-so-discreet punch to the arm from Annette.

“Yeah,” Ashe squeaks. “I mean—appointment, remember? Um. Okay. See you later?”

“As you already said,” Dedue says, and Ashe tries not to shriek like a schoolgirl at the small smile playing at his lips.

Sylvain snickers to himself as Ashe spins around on his heels and starts marching in the opposite direction. He doesn't have to jog much to match Ashe’s pace. “You’re going the wrong direction, you know,” he informs him teasingly, and Ashe shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket and huffs. 

“You go buy your stuff, then,” he mutters, still valiantly marching towards the door. He thinks he can feel Dedue’s gaze burning into his back, and chalks it up to him being absolutely crazy.

Sylvain snorts, coughing when Ashe turns to give him a glare. “Alright,” he says, almost placatingly. “You go ahead and head out. We’ll talk about this later.”

“No.” Ashe winces. “Let’s not. Please.”

Sylvain must be feeling a little more merciful than usual, because he just rolls his eyes before he turns around to head towards the registers.

And then Ashe makes the grave mistake of craning his neck over his shoulder one more time, just to check. As soon as he catches sight of Dedue, the other man turns to him right away, as if sensing his presence, and Ashe whips his head right back around as his cheeks flame. 

He wonders if Dedue can read minds. And then he realizes that would insinuate Dedue knows about whatever this stupid crush is, and he runs out of the store, almost knocking into Ignatz again. The green-haired boy yelps and jumps back just in time. “Sorry, Iggy!” Ashe yells as he leaves, and Ignatz sighs, fixing his glasses again. 

“It’s quite alright,” Ignatz murmurs, but Ashe is already gone.

three 🍰♡

Ashe doesn't muster up the courage to actually visit the bakery again for nearly two weeks, and whenever he starts feeling confident enough in himself to do so, he realizes he’s swamped with work and has to forget about it.

Midterms come around the corner and thoroughly destroy him, and he manages to get them done in between filling out orders and harvesting with Mercedes whenever he can. Mercedes always cheerfully waves off his stressed-out apologies with a kind, understanding smile and the promise of treats in order once they close up shop, which is why Mercedes always wins the Best Friend For Life award. He keeps that thought in his head, because if Sylvain found out he’d lose his mind.

As for Sylvain, he upholds his promise to stop haunting their house with old spirit friends he’d made at the start of his necromancy training—back when he hadn’t quite learned to control his powers and it nearly overwhelmed him. At least, that’s what Ingrid had told him two months into Ashe and Sylvain moving in together, in a hushed voice as Sylvain cooked dinner for the both of them, cheerfully ignoring their conversation. Sylvain’s rune is one of the most arcane in existence—the rune of Gautier, meaning he’s one of the most powerful necromancers out there. But that’s something he doesn't like to talk about, despite Ashe’s fascination, because Ashe is a self-taught witch and still finds it so odd that people are just born with this power.

There’s a part of him that still lies wary of Sylvain, who Ashe knows fools around with men and women alike and sometimes (more often than not) hurts on purpose, and yet after years he still knows next to nothing about his past and why he acts this way—he just does it without preamble, mainly ignoring Ashe’s protests against waking up in the mornings to people in their kitchen. It’s annoying, because Ashe really does care about him. But he digresses.

The point is, Ashe decides once he isn’t as busy that he’ll head over to the bakery, half-hoping Dedue will be there and half-hoping… well, not that he won’t be there, but still. He finally sees an opening on a chilly Friday morning two weeks away from Halloween.

There’s an odd lack of decorations yet, considering this small town is filled to the brim with rune witches and self-practicing ones alike. It’s covered with a layer of glamour and illusion to keep actual suspicion away, and the main street is quiet as Ashe walks. The sun isn’t out today, so it makes everything look a little discolored, but Ashe still takes pleasure in all the sights—Claude’s shop is the only one with Halloween decorations, and Ashe already knows the man will enchant the witch next to the door with illusions to scare the little kids combing through the streets Halloween night. Marianne tends to her garden and gives Ashe a sweet little smile and a wave as he walks past, and Annette grins and yells, “Hey, Ashe!” from her front door.

When he reaches the bakery, the first thing he notices is the hooded figure in the garden, turned away from him. It makes him stop and stand uncertainly, bag slung over his shoulder—and then the hooded figure turns around, and Ashe realizes it’s Dedue. Fuck.

And trust his luck—trust his luck, for striking gold like this—because Dedue pushes his hood back and smiles at Ashe and then Ashe realizes Dedue’s holding a pretty orange cat in his hands, and gods his hands are pretty and big, and the cat looks tiny in his hands, and Ashe almost freaks the hell out.

“Hello, Ashe,” Dedue greets him with his same warm, deep voice, and Ashe’s lips pull up into what he hopes is a grin and isn’t some weird scrunch-up of his nose, because he’s trying not to cry right now. “It’s so early. We still haven’t opened yet.”

“Hi,” Ashe says, eyes still locked on the cat, who purrs and nuzzles it's little nose into Dedue’s palm. “I didn’t know! Should I come back later?”

Dedue shakes his head and then stands, holding the cat to his chest. “Of course not,” he says, and Ashe blushes despite himself at the teasing glimmer to his eyes. “We’d never turn you away. You can come in, if you’d like.”

“I would like that,” Ashe says, smiling as Dedue sets the cat on the ground just to hold the door open for him. “Wow, I guess chivalry isn’t dead, huh?”

Dedue hums. “I suppose not,” he says. “But maybe I’d just like to make a good impression on you.”

That sets Ashe’s nerves on fire as he blushes and steps into the bakery. “U-um,” he starts listlessly, and Dedue laughs.

“You’re easy to fluster.”

“Stop that,” Ashe mutters, staring pointedly at the wall. “You’re mean.”

“Am I?” Dedue says. “Interesting. I wasn’t aware.”

The bakery is indeed empty, Lysithea busying herself with counting change at the register as Dedue enters with the cat and sets it on a nearby counter. Lysithea looks up at them as they enter and smiles at Ashe. “Oh, hello!” She says. “It’s nice to see you again. Dedue, we just cleaned those counters.”

“The cat’s clean,” Dedue says, affronted, and Lysithea sighs.

“You’re turning into Felix,” she accuses.

The mention of Felix makes Ashe pause and look around for the blue-haired boy, mildly disappointed when he doesn't find him—and then he berates himself for even caring, because that means Sylvain has a chokehold on him.

He can’t believe he’s agreed to this. 

But, as if Ashe thinking about him made him manifest—or maybe that was just Lysithea mentioning him—, Felix walks into the bakery from behind him, hands in the pockets of his skinny jeans. He gives Ashe a cursory glance and Dedue a respectful nod as he makes his way behind the counter. “You have my cat,” he announces calmly.

Dedue says, “I do.”

“Why do you have my cat.”

“Because I was supposed to catsit him for you last night when you were with your boyfriend,” Lysithea says, “but he hates me! I think it might be all the death magic.” She looks almost sad as she says this, and Ashe feels a pang of sympathy, because necromancers tend to do terrible with animals that are, well, alive. “He’s taken a liking to Dedue, though.”

“Are you a witch too, Dedue?” Ashe asks, genuinely curious, because he hasn’t seen any runes on him. 

Dedue nods. “Garden witch,” he says. 

Of-fucking-course. “As if you could get any better,” Ashe mutters under his breath.

Dedue blinks. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly. “Um, does your cat have a name, Felix?”

“The cat doesn't have a name yet,” Felix says flatly. “I only got him two days ago.”

“And you haven’t given him a name yet?” Ashe asks, frowning.

“Felix has stated that he needs three to five business days to decide on the cat’s name,” Dedue informs him a matter-of-factly. “He takes these things very seriously.”

“I suggested he name the cat Rasberry, but he wouldn’t listen to me!” Lysithea complains from the register, and Felix sneers at her.

“I’m not naming my fucking cat Rasberry, idiot,” he snaps. “That’s childish.”

“I mean,” Ashe ventures, “you would assume… taking three to five business days to decide on a name for your cat is also kind of maybe a little childish?”

Felix stares him down. “Take that back right now,” he says very, very quietly, and Ashe gulps.

“I take it back,” he says immediately.

“Don’t take it back,” Lysithea snaps. “You’re giving him power he absolutely doesn't need, and you know it.”

Felix sniffs haughtily. “Shut up. You’re just mad cause you don’t get to name my cat.”

“Unfortunately,” Dedue says, petting the cat’s fur with utmost care, “Felix is correct.”

“‘Unfortunately’?” Felix says incredulously just as Lysithea glares and says, “Dedue! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

It’s honestly endearing, the way all three of them are so ridiculously different—he doesn't know much about Lysithea, but she seems focused on her goals and unapproachable in a sense. Felix has a facade of cold and rude at first, but he isn’t too intimidating; in fact, he reminds Ashe of some of the love interests in his romance novels.

And then there’s Dedue, who is, unequivocally, the love of Ashe’s unfortunate, witchy life. That’s an over-exaggeration, he knows, because they only met three weeks ago tops, but sue him for being an idealist.

Anyway, he digresses. 

“Since you’re here,” Dedue ventures, handing the cat over to Felix,” would you like to come help with me in the back, Ashe? There are customers due here soon, and we still haven’t finished with some of the snacks.”

Ashe grins. “Of course! I’d love to help you guys anytime.”

“See, Felix?” Lysithea says with an irritated huff as Ashe and Dedue make their way around the counter. “Maybe if you were more like Ashe, you’d be getting somewhere.”

“I’m not even going to fucking answer to that,” Felix says darkly, “so shut the fuck up.”

The bakery has a warm, sweet scent, only intensified in the back rooms. “We have some muffins in the oven right now,” Dedue explains as he flicks the light back on. It’s an odd type of mood lighting that Ashe assumes is expensive, but it fills the room with a kind of warm glow that, combined with the scent, makes Ashe hum contentedly. “Blueberry ones.”

“I love blueberry muffins,” Ashe says almost reverently. “Actually, I love all kinds of sweets! Meredes and I—I don’t know if you know Mercedes yet, but you should meet her, she’s so sweet—but she and I love to bake together.”

Dedue smiles. “Well, Mercedes sounds quite nice.”

“Yeah. Do you like sweets, too?” Ashe inquires as he grabs an apron off the hook and ties it around himself. “I mean, you’d better like them, since you, well, work here.”

Dedue chuckles, taking an apron of his own. “Correct,” he says. “I enjoy sweets, although I do prefer to eat more savory foods from my homeland. Felix is much of the same, actually, but he doesn't like sweets at all.”

Ashe snorts even as he files away the homeland information for later. “If he doesn't like sweets, why does he work here?”

“Lysithea is a good friend of his,” Dedue explains. “I believe he feels indebted to her for helping him out with something, although I’m not quite sure of what it was. It also means he has an excuse to go to Garreg Mach University with Dimitri, since he lives so close by.”

God, Ashe feels bad for using this time to interrogate Dedue for Sylvain’s sake, but he also wants to be a good friend—and he can’t help but wonder about Felix, who seems so down-to-earth, yet mysterious all the same. “Um, how long have you known Felix and Dimitri?” He asks. “If you don’t mind me bothering you about this, of course.”

“You aren’t bothering me at all,” Dedue reassures. “I met Dimitri when we were both fifteen years old.” He pauses, and then says quietly, “It was right after both of our families died.”

“Oh,” Ashe whispers, feeling a pang of empathy. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Quite alright,” Dedue says, but he sounds a bit pained. “We grew close almost immediately. Dimitri can be… awfully clingy, in all honesty, but it was nice to have someone around like that, if that makes sense. Felix had been best friends with Dimitri since they were young kids. Dimitri always told me stories of how sensitive Felix used to be, although when I met him, he was closed-off. Rude. Cruel, and so… we didn’t always meet eye-to-eye.”

Ashe tilts his head to the side as Dedue opens the oven and takes the tray of blueberry muffins out. “Wow, that looks good," he says absentmindedly, before snapping back to attention. "But anyway—isn’t that just the Felix of today you’re describing? Do you guys still not like each other?”

Dedue raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh, Felix has improved quite a bit since then, actually. His sharp tongue has never changed, but he’s become kinder… or at least, more open about it. He doesn't really hate anything and everything, despite what he says. He’s derisive, but warm. Scathing, but observant.” There’s a faint smile tugging at Dedue’s lips as he takes his oven mitts off. “It’s quite endearing, how Dimitri and Felix match each other. Your friend has noticed that too, has he not?”

“Sylvain, you mean?” Ashe inquires. Dedue nods slowly, and Ashe rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I guess so. I sometimes wonder if he aspires to be a homewrecker in their relationship, but he seems, erm, smitten this time around.”

Dedue makes a little funny noise at the back of his throat. “It’d be hard to tear Dimitri and Felix apart. Sylvain and Dimitri know each other, however. Dimitri’s told me about him.”

Ashe perks up. “Oh? Has he said anything bad?”

Dedue hums. “No. I believe both Felix and Dimitri are quite endeared by him.”

Ashe stares at him. “Now that,” he mutters, “is a first. Maybe Sylvain actually has a chance.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Good point."

They work for the next few minutes, Dedue directing Ashe on what to make and what to go out and set up in the front display, where Felix sits and studies with his laptop out and the cat in his lap. When Ashe gives him a weird look, Felix drawls, “I study computer science.”

“I had the cat in mind, actually.”

Felix sniffs. “I tried to put him somewhere else. He must think my legs are comfortable.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Lysithea mutters from the register, and Ashe hurries back into the back room as Felix whips his head around to glare at the white-haired girl.

“Ashe,” Dedue says some time later, as Ashe is kneading some of the dough, “why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

“Oh,” Ashe says with a hum. "Well, what would you like to hear?"

Dedue purses his lips. "Hm." It's silent for another moment, until Dedue asks, "What made you live here?"

"Proximity to school," Ashe says easily. "I've known Annette for a long while, and she was the one that brought up moving here. I didn't think I'd end up taking up a business and full residence, but I enjoy it! It's really—well, it's such a good life. I'm not quite used to it yet, though."

Dedue chuckles. "Understandable," he says. "Where did you live before?"

He'd been hoping to avoid this question, but Dedue says it so cautiously—with all the air of someone who's been asked this question too many times and doesn't want to be the one asking now. That, and the fact that Dedue had so easily told him what had happened to his own family, makes Ashe feel comfortable enough to tell him.

"My parents are dead," he explains, staring down at the dough and grabbing a cookie cutter. "They—we had a restaurant, as kids. The restaurant burned down one night when they were working late and we just happened to not be there."

It's silent for a heavy, heavy moment. When Ashe looks up, Dedue's stopped sprinkling sugar on the muffins, and his blue-gray eyes settle on Ashe. "We?" He asks.

Ashe has to swallow around a sudden lump in his throat. "Um, yeah. I have... siblings. A younger sister and a younger brother." A part of him wants to fill in all the intentional holes he'd created with this half-story, to tell Dedue about the aftermath of their parents' deaths and the cruelty of the streets and the fact that his siblings are safe and staying with his adoptive father at the moment—because a part of him trusts Dedue much more than he probably should considering the timeline of them knowing each other and the fact that the only people who know about these things are Annette, Mercedes, Ingrid and Sylvain. 

But Dedue must sense the hesitance, because he nods his head and gets back to work. "We are in understanding of each other, then," he hums.

Ashe smiles wobbly down at his cookies. "You're right, actually," he says. No condolences lathered in faux care, no surprise or shock or pushiness. It's so characteristically Dedue that he can't help but feel relieved and more comfortable than he's been in a while. 

Ashe isn't the kind of person to just say this stuff out loud so soon into a budding friendship (and, of course, even less so when it comes to a budding crush, but he digresses), but—"Dedue," he says softly, "I know we don't know each other very well yet—at least, we haven't known each other for too long—but you're a very comforting presence to be around."

"Is that so," Dedue says slowly, contemplatively. "I... appreciate that greatly. I am glad I can make you feel more comfortable. A lot of people have been..." he has to search for the word for a moment, before he picks up again. "A lot of people have been afraid of me, or they believe that I will cause them harm."

He can tell Dedue isn't very keen on talking about that just yet, so Ashe backs off, nods his head and smiles. "Well, you're so kind. I'm sure there's no real reason for people to be afraid of you!"

Dedue smiles back, soft and warm. "Thank you, Ashe. Perhaps this will sound rude, but you do... have an air of softness about you. It's in your face."

"Dedue," Ashe gasps, aghast. "Are you saying I have a baby face?"

"That's not what I meant," Dedue attempts to protest.

He should probably tell Sylvain what he's learned about both Felix and Dimitri, but he can't be fucked to bother right now as he grins and crosses his arms petulantly, paying no heed to the flour on his hands. "You totally did, Dedue," he accuses playfully, and Dedue rolls his eyes. "You're so rude!"

"I am not."

"Yes, you are!"

And if the extra treats come out a little later than they were supposed to, that's really no one's business but theirs.

four 🍰♡

“Sometimes I feel as though you only visit for the cats,” Dedue says calmly from behind him, and Ashe jumps and yelps in surprise, fumbling with Ares enough for him to leap out of his arms and onto the counter. Felix had finally found names for his cats—naming the orange tabby Ares, and another black-and-white cat Mars. He'd told Ashe he had another black cat named Boar in his boyfriend's apartment, although Ashe still doesn't understand why he chose to name one of his cats that.

Ashe turns around and pouts at Dedue. He’s holding a broom and his hairnet and apron are still on, making him look way more endearing than necessary—but that isn’t the point. “You scared me!” He gasps, a hand flying to his chest.

Dedue raises his eyebrow. “I work here, so I don’t understand why you’re shocked.”

Ashe rolls his eyes and sighs as he reaches out to Ares again, who begrudgingly climbs into his arms. “It’s late, okay?” He mutters.

“Indeed. You usually do not stay until closing,” Dedue points out, almost as though he’s prodding for an answer.

Ashe just shrugs. “I couldn’t come this morning, so I decided to stay here until closing, I guess? If you’re okay with that?”

“Of course,” Dedue says softly, reassuringly. “We’re never going to stop wanting you around. You help without needing to help, and you’re a delight to all the customers. We appreciate it.”

Ashe’s heart squeezes painfully in his chest, and he smiles. “...Thank you, Dedue. That means a lot to hear, actually.”

“I only speak the truth,” Dedue says calmly. “Would you like to clean with me?”

Ashe wrinkles his nose. “Ugh, sounds like a chore.”

“But it is a chore,” Dedue points out, sounding confused.

God, Ashe is so endeared. “You know what? Never mind. Where are your mops?”

Ashe has realized at this point that Lysithea’s bakery has, oddly enough, turned into a safe haven for him—his shop with Mercedes is one as well, as is his apartment (although he prefers it when Sylvain isn’t there to bother him all the time; not that he doesn't mind him around, but still, which unfortunately hasn’t been happening more and more these days), but it’s a haven in a different sort of way; and it’s almost turned into Felix’s cat cafe as well, what with his three cats everywhere.

“Although they aren’t very docile,” Dedue says when Ashe points out that particular observation. “I believe they cause more issue than benefit, but the customers like them... and so Lysithea lets them stay.”

It isn’t only Ashe who spends an inane amount of time at a place he doesn't even work at—he’s finally met Dimitri, who has a kind smile, broad shoulders, and keeps his long blonde hair tied back—Ashe really can't blame Sylvain for being attracted to him, but he still can't believe he's keeping his eyes on him anyway—, and has gotten to know him through tea time at the cafe when both of the people they specifically wanted to see are busy. Ashe is still intimidated by the air of poise Dimitri holds naturally, but the older man is kind and giving, so Ashe finds himself admiring him.

There’s Ingrid, too, who often stops by with Mercedes to pick up snacks together. Introducing Mercedes to Dedue felt like introducing a mother to a boyfriend (a thought that made him blush involuntarily, because he and Dedue aren’t even dating), but they’d warmed up to each other instantly. Lysithea had gasped as soon as she tasted one of Mercedes’ strawberry shortcakes and immediately started begging her to work there, to which Mercedes very reluctantly declined. “I might come and volunteer some help like Ashe here, though!” She’d said cheerfully, and Ingrid turned her knowing eyes on him.

Ashe loves his friends, but he wishes he weren’t so easy to read to them.

And then there’s been Byleth, Felix’s calculus professor. Ashe has seen her walk in and out of the bakery before driving off to the university more times than he can count over the past few weeks. She’s quiet, introspective, and more than a little intimidating, but she suggests a few tea blends for Lysithea to try making sometime, and they work so well that they sell out immediately. There’s Jeritza too, oddly enough—Mercedes’ older brother who also works at the university and leads the fencing club Felix is also a part of.

“This entire bakery feels like a Felix harem,” Annette muses one morning after Ashe drags her to grab coffee and doughnuts with him. “Like, everyone’s coming together for this one blue-haired strength rune witch with a bitchy attitude and way too many cats. Kinda crazy, don’t you think?”

“I’m not there for Felix,” Ashe says, affronted.

Annette takes a moment to swallow the last of her jelly-filled doughnut, which Ashe appreciates. “Right,” she says mischievously. “You aren’t there for Felix, are you?”

Ashe is a kindhearted person, which is why he doesn't kick Annette in the shin much harder than necessary. But he does entertain the idea, and he doesn't feel bad about it one bit.

"So," Sylvain says expectantly when he leaves the bakery. Ashe blinks at him, unfazed at the fact that he's just sitting on the curb at ten pm when he could just walk in and be perfectly fine. "Did you see him today?"

"See who?" Ashe asks innocently, walking down the street and sighing to himself when he hears Sylvain jump up and follow after him.

"Don't play idiot with me," Sylvain complains. "I'm talking about Dimitri! I haven't seen him in, like, a week."

Ashe sucks his teeth and shakes his head. "Lies," he says. "You saw Dimitri yesterday. He told me himself."

"Oh, so Dimitri tells you everything, huh?" Sylvain says from behind him. He sounds suddenly bitter in the almost-November cold, and Ashe freezes, and then turns around slowly to stare at him.

"What?"

Sylvain's eyes glint, his fiery hair dulled by the night. His nose is tipped red by the chill, and he shoves his hands into his pockets. "I mean, you're already best friends with, like, everyone." His lips tug into a frown. "I don't know how you get everyone to like you."

"Sylvain, we all love you to death," Ashe says quietly. "You know that, right?"

Sylvain starts walking again, falling into step with Ashe even though Ashe has shorter legs and slows down. "Sure," he mutters under his breath.

It's silent for a moment, the air still as they make their way down the street, Ashe resisting the urge to glance back at the warm lighting of the bakery. "Sylvain," he says slowly. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Sylvain's never really opened up to him about anything. He figures that's something specifically for Ingrid, in that they've known each other since they were small children and Ashe is really just his roommate who tolerates the people he brings home (mostly because more often not, that person is Claude, and Claude's genuinely nice when he isn't pulling his pranks) and pities his clients looking for closure enough to hide away in his room when they come over. 

So Sylvain stays quiet, and Ashe mentally berates himself for even asking. And then—

"I used to flaunt my necromancy around all the time."

Ashe whips his head towards Sylvain, eyebrows furrowed. "Huh?"

Sylvain pointedly stares down at the concrete as they walk, slowly approaching an intersection. "As a kid, I thought this whole ability to raise and talk to the dead thing was so cool. I mean, none of the other kids could see me do it, 'cause my parents kept dampeners on me so I wouldn't, like, go crazy, but sometimes I'd watch some skeleton hand with entrails hanging off of it creep out of the dirt on the playground and I'd think it was so cool."

"Well," Ashe says slowly, swallowing the disgust at that description, "it is pretty cool, Sylvain. At least in my eyes it is, even though it's kind of terrifying."

"Hmm," Sylvain hums. "These days I just wish I didn't have such an alienated power. And I've been having... some issues with clients." He sighs, drags a palm over his face. "I don't know why I'm telling you all of this, but my... interest in Felix and Dimitri doesn't actually have anything to do with being in love with them."

Ashe frowns and side-eyes Sylvain. The older boy has his hands shoved into his pockets, and his brows are furrowed. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"I," Sylvain says slowly, "Have a problem much bigger than falling in love right now. I mean," and here, he chuckles. "Felix and Dimitri are definitely hot. I won't even deny that. If they, like, wanted to invite me to a threesome—um, actually, let me stop right there. But... there's been something going on, and I need to figure it out, and it has something to do with them."

The tone of his voice sends chills down Ashe's spine. "Are you going to tell me what it is?"

"Nope!" Sylvain says almost cheerily, popping the p, and Ashe groans when he starts running across the intersection. When Ashe gets across to catch up to him, however, he levels him with a serious look. "I'll be able to tell you soon, but right now, it's my problem. But this whole hooking-up-with-two-people-who-are-already-dating sort of thing... it's—"

"It's something different, isn't it?" Ashe asks quietly. "That's why you were so keen on me getting information about them. But why—"

"No questions, Ashe," Sylvain says seriously. He doesn't meet Ashe's eyes when he continues stubbornly staring at him. "I'll worry about telling everyone later. Please don't tell anyone this, too. Things will happen on their own time. In the meantime, though, I'm still going to need information on them."

Ashe narrows his eyes. "And what if I don't want to get information?"

Sylvain wrinkles his nose. "Then... you don't have to? I mean, you spend so much time there that it's almost ridiculous, but I know you have other priorities." And then his lips curl up into a smirk, and his eyes flash as he starts staring him down, and Ashe flushes. "But I suppose that isn't any of my business."

"Ugh, Sylvain," Ashe groans. "Please stop talking."

"Fine, fine," Sylvain concedes, a small smile playing on his features. "I'll leave you alone, then."

He hears the unspoken order. You leave me alone too. He wouldn't say it unkindly, of course, but Ashe knows when to back off. He'll hear the rest of the story later.

"Let's go home, now," he says softly. "I can make dinner."

"Oh, thank fuck," Sylvain says, a relieved look in his eyes. Perhaps it's because they've dropped a subject that didn't even last very long in the first place but still holds an odd weight in the air. "Can you make stir-fry tonight? It's been so long."

"I was thinking pasta," Ashe says dryly. "I don't have the time to make a full dinner."

Sylvain pouts, and then says—"Hey. Look behind you."

Ashe makes the mistake of turning around on impulse. The first thing he sees is a grotesque face with no body attached, its face engorged with something Ashe doesn't want to guess at, eyes dripping blood, and then he sees that it's half-transparent. When he shrieks and turns around, bile bubbling in his throat, Sylvain's running off, his long legs taking him far. "Sylvain—" He squeaks and starts to run after him, the hair at the back of his neck rising with chills as he pointedly refuses to turn around. "Sylvain, you can't just do that!"

"I can do whatever I want!" Sylvain calls back.

"I hate you," Ashe yells. "That was—you're so—ugh. I'm not making you dinner!"

Sylvain doesn't reply as he continues running. Ashe runs after him until they reach their apartment complex and Ashe can safely say that that thing Sylvain most definitely summoned isn't running after him.

five 🍰♡

“Ashe!”

Annette has a cheerful grin on her face as she bumbles into the bakery, startling the air of peace with sheer energy only she can create. Hilda follows in right after, twirling her hair around her fingers as she looks around at the bakery with appreciative eyes.

"Hey, Annie!" Ashe exclaims with a beam. "And hello, Hilda. It's so nice to see you both!"

Hilda slides into the booth opposite Ashe, handing him her bag to put in the empty space next to him. "Hey, Ashe. Claude decided to not let me know that shop was closed today, so I've been hanging around Annie."

Annette sits next to Hilda, and then cranes her neck back to look at the line and a frazzled-looking Felix at the cashier register by himself. Frazzled-looking on Felix means there's clear murderous intent scrawled all over his face even as he quickly takes orders, and Ashe idly wonders how long it'll take for him to snap. "I wish there wasn't a line," she bemoans, and is on command, her stomach growls so loud it makes Petra glance over at them from where she sits on a high table studying. She waves at Ashe and then gets back to work. "God, I am so hungry!"

"Just, like, use your powers to stop time and get to the front of the line yourself," Hilda says distractedly as she scrolls through her phone.

Annette pouts. "That's not even my power! That's for Mercedes, and she's way too nice to use it in the first place. That, and all the dampeners around here would amount to way too much of a barrier."

The dampeners were all set up specifically to make sure rune-bearers didn't run amok. Of course, there are ways to get around that, like the amplifiers scattered around his and Sylvain's apartment—but that's all work-related, is what he uses as his excuse, because clients often come to apartment to discuss just how they'll talk to dead loved ones. Or something like that. Ashe doesn't like focusing on the details.

Hilda snaps her gum. "Wait. What's your rune, then?"

"Dominic, remember?" She says a little glumly. "I'm just a little better at elemental magic than your average citizen."

"Your elemental abilities are so good, though!" Ashe exclaims excitedly, leaning forward. "I admire elemental witches, seriously. I know there are ways to learn even as non rune-bearers, but I think I'm going to be stuck with charms, in all honesty. It's all way too much focus and way too much work."

Hilda wrinkles her nose. "Yeah. That definitely isn't for me." Her rune, Goneril, gives her somewhat of a strength-vampire-slash-telekinesis power that Ashe finds absolutely fascinating as well—but she rarely ever uses the strength vampire ability. Something about being too manipulative and crossing a certain line, which Ashe finds somewhat ironic.

Annette's eyes widen. "Your charms are amazing, Ashe! I always use the calming charm before exams and it works like, well, a charm!" She grins. "Ha. I'm so funny."

Hilda smiles at her. "You're too adorable, Annie."

Annette blushes. "Aww, so are you!"

It's a few more minutes of small talk and catching up before the line gets short enough for Ashe and Annette to head up and order something for the three of them (Hilda, quite characteristically, had asked them to bring her something to drink, and she'd pay them back immediately). Felix looks almost somewhat relieved to see Ashe, shaking his head in disgust.

"This job is really starting to make me hate consumerism," he mutters.

"You could always just quit," Ashe laughs. Seeing him now after Sylvain's half-confession makes him worry that he'll be found out for something he hasn't even done in the first place, but Felix and Dimitri are both completely oblivious. He'd asked them three days ago whether or not Sylvain had been keeping in touch with them, and Dimitri had raised an eyebrow and said I see him everywhere. Why, is there something wrong?

Ashe had dropped the subject. Better to leave Sylvain to his own devices that keep prodding at something that could grow if he said something out of line.

Felix grimaces. "Thinking about quitting is the only way I've gotten through my shifts," he sighs. "Plus, Lysithea probably needs all the help she can get, and so does Dedue, so quitting is kind of out of the question." He narrows his eyes. "Unless you wanna work here?"

"He already works here, with how much he hangs around," Annette points out with a sly grin.

"Right?" Felix says, rolling his eyes but not without the smallest smile on his face. "The things you people do for love," he mutters.

Ashe goes bright red, feeling heat creep down his neck, and Annette nudges him knowingly. "I'd like to order now," Ashe announces. "There's already a line behind us again."

That murderous glint appears in Felix's eyes again. "Fucking hell. I hate capitalism." When Annette giggles, he glares at Ashe. "Well? Get on with it, then."

They end up getting a slice of strawberry shortcake for Annette, boba tea for Hilda, and a chocolate muffin for Ashe. Felix curls his lips into a smirk as he tells Ashe to chip his card in, and Ashe quietly hopes Felix isn't going to mention who those muffins are made by and who proposed the idea of adding them to the list of foods they sell, and he stands there and prays and prays while the chip reads his card—

"You know," Felix drawls, "those muffins are always made by Dedue. None of us can quite get it as perfect as he does. He's the one who proposed they be added to the list of stuff we sell, actually."

Ashe stands there, absolutely mortified, while Annette tilts her head to the side with a grin. "Oh, really?"

"It's good, alright?" Ashe mumbles, and Annette and Felix both laugh. What an unlikely duo, he thinks as they walk back to their seats and Lorenz takes their spot, but he supposes it fits.

He's almost a little disappointed at the way he can't spot any sign of Dedue anywhere and knows he can't go into the back and say hello, because he's probably insanely busy. Hilda raises an eyebrow at Ashe once they sit back down, order number in hand for when their snacks are ready. "Why the dejected pout, Ashe?"

"Oh," Annette says mischievously, and Ashe quietly considers signing his soul off to the lord of the Underworld. "Didn't you know—?"

"Know how much I love the blueberry muffins here!" Ashe cuts in, overly cheerful. "But it seems they've run out, so I had to get chocolate instead." He gives her a pout. "So sad."

Hilda's nodding sympathetically until Annette huffs and rolls her eyes. "Don't listen to him, Hilda," she scolds. "I was going to say that his crush isn't around, so he's being all mopey!"

Hilda's nodding stops instantly, and she narrows her eyes, snapping her gum all-knowingly. "Oh, really now?" She says. "Ashe sort of hates how taunting her tone is, and then promptly wants to take it back because he doesn't hate anyone, including Hilda. It all can just be so—

Frustrating is the word he knows he's searching for as he sits there, Annette and Hilda staring back with identical smirks on their faces. He's seen the look around too many damn times over the past week to not see them as frustrating. "What're are you looking at me for?" He asks as innocently as possible.

"Oh, nothing," Annette says, her tone nonchalant. 

"Just looking at you," Hilda adds, smiling. "The one with the crush. You need to tell us who it is! I don't think I've ever been here before, so I'll need a name and Instagram handle."

Ashe flushes when he realizes that within the time span of them knowing each other (and Ashe subsequently being In Love), Ashe hasn't even thought to try to get his phone number. Hell, he has Felix's phone number at this point, although all they do is fanboy over Felix's cats whenever he randomly sends him pictures. It's ridiculously endearing, and he frowns to himself when he wonders what he'd text about with Dedue. "His... his name is Dedue," he says, faltering slightly. "Um. I don't think he has an Instagram?"

"Ew," Hilda mutters under her breath. "Boring."

Annette scrunches her nose up at him. "How is it that you mentioned him by name exactly one time, and you're already blushing?"

Ashe feels his cheeks heat up only further and grimaces. "Stop that, Annie. And him not having social media isn't boring! I don't even know if he does." He pauses. "I... don't even have his phone number."

Hilda raises her eyebrows in shock. "Wow," she says. "How have you guys even been communicating?"

"Um," Ashe starts. "Through... face-to-face conversation?"

"Big yikes."

Annette laughs. "You say this like your own girlfriend ever checks her texts," she points out, and Hilda breaks out into a radiant grin.

"Okay, okay, you're right. Marianne's getting better, though! I've been trying to get her to download Instagram, but she doesn't seem to want to listen."

"Social media isn't essential to life," Ashe points out.

Hilda rolls her eyes. "Ugh, Ashe. You sound just like her."

"Is that a bad thing?"

She looks contemplative for a moment. "Nah," she says. "I guess it isn't so bad."

"We're getting way off track here, you guys," Annette complains. "We were supposed to be making fun of Ashe!"

Ashe groans. "Annette."

"Let me be a gremlin," Annette says with her best attempt at a glare. "Anyway. Tell us more about Dedue."

Ashe grits his teeth. "You've already met him, Annie," he says.

"Well," says Annette all innocently. "Hilda here hasn't, duh! Come on, spill all the details!"

Hilda nods sagely. "She's right, you know."

Acts of violence are bad, Ashe tells himself. And then he inhales, and opens his mouth to speak.

"He's... well, he's. He's nice."

"Well, no shit," Hilda drawls. "I mean, you'd never go after anyone not nice."

"Stop being so nervous, Ashe!" Annette complains. "It's just us!"

"I know," Ashe groans, covering his face with his hands. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so flustered. He's just—he's kindhearted and looks at me like he can see straight through to my soul, which is weird but also, like, insanely attractive. He's good with people and cats and enjoys baking and cooking and is amazing at both. I'm not—well, I'm not an anxious person, but he reassures me constantly all the same. Also, he's handsome probably super strong and I mean, am I supposed to not like him? In any other universe where Dedue and I both existed in the same area and timeframe, would I still be interested?" He pauses, and then closes his eyes and braces his elbows on the table to rub his temples. "Oh, god. I'd totally be in love with him no matter what, wouldn't I?"

"Ashe," Annette says, suddenly uncharacteristically quiet, but Ashe barrels on.

"Annie, you were the one that told me to tell you everything," he points out, "so let me finish. Did you know he's a garden witch too? A garden witch! And I said, as if you could get any better, and thank god he didn't hear me—"

"No, Ashe," Hilda cuts in. "Open your eyes."

Ashe opens his eyes very, very slowly, and removes his fingers from his face, and that's when he sees it. A shadow elongating out across the table, and Annette and Hilda sharing identical panic-stricken looks, their wide eyes almost comical in another context.

And when Ashe turns his head, he sees Dedue standing there, their snacks balanced on a tray. His features are carefully blank, and he pointedly refuses to look Ashe in the eyes, and Ashe's heart promptly falls out of his mouth.

"I... have your order," Dedue says, sounding quite pained with this fact.

"Um," says Ashe. And then he does the only thing he can think to do. He runs.

It's surprisingly chilly out when Ashe pushes the door open and flies down the steps, completely ignoring Annette's surprised yelp and Hilda's "Ashe, wait!" 

In hindsight, he supposes his running down the street with Sylvain the other day was a prime example of foreshadowing, except it was nighttime then and Sylvain had summoned a grotesque thing to freak him out, and now it's daytime and Ashe is running from... love is his first thought, but he doesn't want to go that far just yet.

He's running from a chance at it, the first real, possibly attainable, kindhearted person he's met in a while that he thinks he truly, truly likes. The thought only makes the burn in his chest flame into something angrier. God, he's frustrated with himself.

He keeps running.

At one point he barrels past Bernadetta, who drops her bag on the ground with a shriek and then says, "Oh, Ashe, it's only you," but Ashe doesn't stop to help her even as he feels a small bite of guilt. He doesn't stop running, doesn't turn around until he reaches their apartment block and runs up to the second floor using the stairs and pushes himself into their apartment, slamming the door shut and leaning against it as he breathes heavily.

"Oh, god," he mutters to himself. "I am so over-dramatic."

"Ashe?" Sylvain says. He's sitting on the couch, his laptop in his lap and his glasses glinting from the artificial light, and then Ashe realizes Claude is sitting next to him with books strewn out everywhere. Sylvain's eyes narrow, scrutinizing him, and Claude gives him a small, worried smile. "Everything good there?"

"No," Ashe says despairingly, resisting the urge to slide down the door and put his head in his hands. "No, Sylvain, I am not okay. I need a few hours to cope with this, and then I'll make lunch. Maybe."

Sylvain worries at his lower lip, a crease between his brows. "You don't have to make lunch, man. Claude and I can make something quick. You go deal with... whatever you're dealing with."

Ashe starts towards his room immediately. "You're the best roommate ever, Syl," he announces, and Sylvain snorts.

"Sure, sure."

Ashe closes his door and toes off his shoes before he jumps onto his small twin-sized bed face-first. It's only then that he realizes that he forgot his jacket in the bakery, and he promptly screams into his pillow.

++ one 🍰♡

Halloween eventually rolls around, and Mercedes and Ashe make the executive decision to leave their shop open for trick-or-treaters wandering the streets. The floor-to-ceiling windows make it easy to spot kids excitedly running up to the store after seeing the sign pointing them towards free candy on the road. They alternate for a bit, Ashe trying not to squeal over the kids dressed in Pokémon costumes and Mercedes smiling sweetly at everyone who stands at the door. She's dressed as an old-timey aristocrat costume and carries her homemade sweets back and forth, and she giggles at herself whenever she passes the tall mirror off to the side. "I look absolutely ridiculous," she informs him gleefully, and Ashe laughs.

He's decided to dress up as an archer this year. His bow and arrow are completely useless because the arrow is glued to the bow itself, and his quiver of arrows all have blunt tips made to avoid impact. His shoulder plate has tassels hanging off of it that he mindlessly tugs on, and it's all colored blue, silver and tan, which he thinks works well with him.

After about an hour of trick-or-treating, Ingrid comes in. She's dressed in all whites and light turquoises, a makeshift sword attached to her him and what Ashe thinks is a real bow and arrow strapped to her back. "Hey, guys," she says. "Has it been busy? I'm gonna hang around here for a bit."

"Hello, Ingrid!" Mercedes says cheerily, pulling the younger girl into a warm hug as Ashe gives her a high five. "No, it's been pretty quiet. What are you dressed as?"

"A Hunter of Artemis," says Ingrid proudly. "Do you guys like it?"

"You look amazing," Ashe gushes. "You're straight out of the mythology books!"

"Beautiful as always," says Mercedes, giving her a sweet smile.

Ingrid blushes. "You guys are too sweet."

With another helping hand on deck, Mercedes sends Ashe off to the back to finish orders, packing herbs and charms and spellbooks. Halfway through, he gets a text from Sylvain saying gonna be late for food ashe im sorryyyy, and rolls his eyes.

are u hanging out with claude?, he sends back.

yes no maybe so

well, he types, a small smile on his face, have fun and stay safe syl!! don’t terrorize any kids. lmk when u start dating him pls.

It takes a few more minutes for Sylvain to text back, and Ashe blushes when he sees what he's sent. oh shut up. lmk when u start dating that dedue guy annie says ur halfway to marriage with. hes the one from the grocery store right? i approveee!!!

Ashe does not dignify that with a response.

Thinking about Dedue sends him into an anxious frenzy, ever since he... well, ran away. It's what he dubs the quintessential end to his love life, if the carefully blank look on Dedue's face, still imprinted into his brain, is anything to go by. He sees it every time he closes his eyes to blink. It's terrible.

It's terrible, and he never wants to think about it again. Therefore he mulls over it the entire time as he works, until Mercedes stops at the door and pokes her head in.

"Ashe?" Mercedes says, voice soft and careful, and Ashe looks up from where he's been packing a batch of peppermint tea leaves in with a migraine-soothing lotion into a box. "Someone's here to see you."

Ashe cocks his head to the side. "Huh? Who is it?"

Mercedes gives him a secret, knowing smile, and Ashe narrows his eyes. "Hm. I'll let you see for yourself."

Ashe isn't an idiot. He knows what that most likely means, and the possibility of it makes Ashe's head swim as he stands to dust himself off—and then he makes the mistake of Not Looking Where He's Standing, and knocks his head straight into the low-hanging light and groans when the pain hits.

Mercedes gasps. "Oh my goodness, Ashe! Are you okay?"

"Yup," Ashe says sullenly as the back of his head throbs. "Just peachy, Mercedes."

Ingrid's combing through a book on tarot when Ashe emerges from the back with Mercedes close behind. She looks up and then winks obnoxiously at Ashe. "Good luck out there."

"You make it sound like I'm walking straight towards my death," he mutters, but he appreciates the sentiment nonetheless. He's sure everyone's heard about the Bakery Incident by now, including Ingrid, but thankfully she doesn't bring it up. She gives him an understanding smile, and then he's opening their front door.

The soft chime of the bells is muted into the background in Ashe's head. Dedue's hair is loose, falling over his shoulders in silvery waves, and his earrings glint in the light of Ashe's shop. He's wearing a black trench coat and holds a bag in his hand, the other carrying something he doesn't recognize, and Ashe stares. He's beautiful. Ashe can't believe it.

"Hello, Ashe," Dedue says cautiously when he continues to gape. "How... are you?"

Ashe squeaks, and then slams the door shut.

"Ashe," Mercedes says reproachfully from the front counter. She's still smiling, but there's a furrow to her brows. "Why did you close the door on him?"

"I'm sorry!" Ashe yelps, and then promptly turns around and opens the door again, this time with a hard-earned sort of resolve that he refuses to give up on. I will not freak out, I will not freak out, I will not freak out—

"I am sorry," Dedue says, looking a little dismayed. "I... did you... should I go?"

"No, no, don't go," Ashe says, perhaps too loudly, because Dedue's eyes widen. "Um—I—frick, I just. I'm sorry. Needed a moment to compose myself. Um, what are you doing here? Wait, that sounded rude, I'm so sorry—"

"Ashe," Dedue says gently, "It is fine. No need to apologize. I only wished to speak with you for a few moments, but if you are busy, that is okay."

"I'm not busy," Ashe breathes, and Dedue takes a step back to allow Ashe room to close the door behind him. "Here, we can go to our little balcony. It's off to the side."

Dedue hums as he trails after Ashe. "Your garden is beautiful," he comments, and Ashe smiles to himself.

"Courtesy of Mercedes. We've been filling out orders so it's been really useful," he says. "And then during the winter we enclose it, and Sylvain knows a few warmth spells as well, so it all works out!"

"It's a peaceful environment," says Dedue. "And Sylvain...? I don't believe I've seen him for the past little while."

"Um, yeah." Ashe starts reaching up to scratch behind his neck as he runs up the small flight of stairs, and then realizes that he probably looks suspicious and immediately shoves his hands into his pockets. "Sylvain's been... busy."

"I see." Dedue doesn't press for details, which Ashe appreciates.

Ashe turns around to face Dedue, although he can't find it in him to meet his gaze as Dedue looks down at him with what he knows is a kind, contemplative look on his face. They stand in awkward silence for a few moments before Ashe starts, "So about the other day—" right as Dedue starts to say, "I—"

"You first," Ashe says, blushing furiously.

Dedue shakes his head, his eyes never leaving Ashe's face. "No, no," he says. "You may start."

"Um. Okay." Ashe drags a hand over his face and then rushes out, "I'm really sorry for probably creeping you out by talking about you when you were right there and i'm totally okay with you kicking me out to the curb and rejecting me but I just, you're really cute and you're really nice and I don't know what I'm supposed to do! And I'm pretty sure I ruined whatever chances I maybe probably had and I'm really sorry for running away and also I left my jacket there and I just—oh god, let me stop, let me stop." He inhales and finally lets his eyes flick up to meet Dedue's, who looks as though he's about to laugh. "Are you—hey! That's rude!"

"My apologies, Ashe," Dedue says, a sweet smile blooming over his features, and Ashe positively melts. "You are just so endearing."

"Don't say that," Ashe chokes out. "It's like you're trying to stop my heart."

"Perhaps that would not work out so well," Dedue agrees. "I have your jacket here, by the way."

He hands Ashe his blue jacket, and Ashe's eyes widen. "Oh. Thank you so much, Dedue. Again, I'm sorry for all this."

Dedue shakes his head. "Do not apologize. It is... sweet of you, to feel that way about me. I don't believe I've ever been the object of anyone's affections before." He pauses, and then frowns. "I am sorry for responding poorly. When you ran off, I thought that maybe... I had scared you off."

"That isn't the case at all," Ashe reassures. "I would never be scared of you. I suppose I was just scared of my own feelings and it overwhelmed me for a moment, but, um." He clears his throat. "I do care about you, and it feels fast, but I meant every word I said."

It's hard to tell in the soft lantern glow coming from the overhead light, but Ashe thinks there might be a red tint to Dedue's cheeks. "I... thank you. I came to tell you that I feel the same way about you, however."

Ashe's heart almost stops in his chest. "Oh my god, no. You're kidding."

Dedue tilts his head to the side, brows furrowing. "I am not joking. Why would I be?"

"Oh, my gosh." Ashe puts his head in his hands, his cheeks burning against his fingers. "God. I'm being such an idiot, I'm so sorry! I just... wow, I admire you so much, and this is a shocker."

Dedue smiles, and yeah, he's definitely blushing. "It is not so hard to like you," he says. "You are kind, and hardworking; endearing, in your own way. You care about your friends enough to inquire in mine when one finds interest in them, and you help around the bakery constantly."

"Stop that," Ashe mutters. "I think my face might actually be on fire, but, um, thank you so much. I think we're both just ready to heap praise on each other right now."

Dedue's laugh is melodic, lilting a little in the night air. It's hypnotizing. I might actually be in love, Ashe thinks to himself. "I suppose we are good for each other, then." And then his eyes widen at the implications. "Um."

Ashe can't help his laugh; and then Dedue's smiling, and they're both beaming at each other like idiots. He is so glad this isn't happening in front of Sylvain or Annette, because then he'd never hear the end of it. "God, you're too cute, Dedue." 

"Hmm," says Dedue, and then he's lifting up the bag, and Ashe gets the distinct aroma of something gooey. "I have this for you. It's homemade lasagna."

Ashe's stomach chooses just then to growl obnoxiously, and Dedue laughs again. "Really? You're—you're so nice, Dedue. I'll share this with Mercedes and Ingrid, and—" he shrugs. "If you'd like to eat with us too, that would be lovely."

Dedue's eyes soften. "I would, if you'd let me."

"Of course," Ashe whispers, and then his eyes flick unwillingly down to Dedue's mouth, and Dedue looks hesitant. "I... can... would you..."

"I," Dedue breathes, "have never done that."

I'm about to be this man's first kiss, Ashe thinks to himself, and has to try to fight down a smile, or maybe overwhelmed tears. "I should probably take you on a date first, shouldn't I," Ashe jokes, but Dedue seems to actually consider it.

"No," he says. "We can go on a date, of course. But right now..."

The mood is perfect for him—quiet, thrumming with life around them, the moon casting a certain ethereal glow onto the shine of Dedue's hair as he bends down, and Ashe has to go on his tiptoes to loop his arms around Dedue's neck as their lips touch. It's brief but electric, and soothing all the same. They pull apart, and Dedue's hands twitch awkwardly at his sides. 

"Wow," is all he says.

Ashe snickers. "I really did find the best of the best, didn't I?"

Dedue blushes, and Ashe just knows he has. He takes his fingers in his own, ignoring the burst of nerves it sends up his arm, and leads him back around to the front to introduce him to Mercedes and Ingrid. This, he thinks, is the best way he could've ended his Halloween.