Chapter Text
Every day starts off like clockwork, a routine that might as well be carved in stone. Regardless of whether it’s a weekday or the weekend, Felix gets up at 6:00 am – a run, followed by a shower, breakfast and the first set of pills he has to take for the day. Usually, class follows soon after. He thought moving out and living on his own would throw him off at first, but he’s thrived instead, much to his relief. It’s one more thing he can throw in his old man’s face, that he doesn’t need his help like the man had initially thought.
Rodrigue’s tone had been careful, almost hesitant. Annoying. “Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere closer to home? You got into Faerghus University, they have a good –”
“I already told you, old man. I’m leaving.” His tone had been clipped, marked with finality, the same way it had been every time they’d had this conversation.
“I'd rather be close by just in case you need help,” Rodrigue had sighed. Felix hadn’t dignified his words with a response, only a glare.
At the moment, he found a good amount of satisfaction in proving his father wrong, until he remembered that the old man was still paying his rent. Well, he’ll have his full independence soon if he gets his way. If everything turns out exactly how he wants it to, he’ll never run into anyone he knew Fhirdiad ever again.
Before leaving his small apartment, he checks the calendar pinned to his wall and examines the different colored marks. He’d always preferred keeping his reminders on physical paper. There was something about using his phone for task management that he dislikes for no particular reason. In any case, there was nothing due today or in the next few days – school related or otherwise. There’s only a note with a small happy face and flowers next to it that says lunch with Annette.
So far, she’s the only person at Garreg Mach he can tolerate for more than a few minutes. They don’t share any classes, so she makes a it a point to see him at least once a week, and as much as he pretends not to, he enjoys spending time with her. Lunch today might not be so bad.
-
He’s ten minutes early to his morning class and is annoyed to see someone already sitting in his usual spot, asleep on the cool surface of the desk. What’s more, it’s three weeks into the semester and he’s never seen this guy step foot in this class. He’d remember a mop of red hair like that. With a scoff, he settles for the seat right beside the stranger and waits patiently for the professor to come in.
History has never been his favorite subject, but the core curriculum demands that he take it and as a student with an undecided major, he might as well get these classes out of the way. And so, he listens to the professor drabble on about medieval plagues. It’s only towards the end of the class that he begins to pay any attention at all, as soon as the professor mentions the word assignment.
“… as is stated on your syllabus, this essay is worth 40% of your grade and replaces the final exam. You will be placed in pairs and will choose a royal line and time period and analyze the sociopolitical landscape. I expect anywhere between 40 and 45 pages.” There’s a collective groan from the entire class, only made worse by the phrase due in three weeks. He shifts to the next slide on his PowerPoint presentation to reveal a list of names – their assigned partners for this. Honestly, Felix would rather have an extra week and do this on his own. He wonders who his partner is.
"Felix Fraldarius... Hey, you know who that is?"
There it is. Felix's answer. The redhead next to him was Sylvain Gautier - his partner for the next three weeks or so. Fantastic. He gets probably the laziest person in the class thrown onto him. Now he has to write a 40-page essay in three weeks by himself, he can just feel it.
"That would be me," he answers dryly.
A smile spreads across Sylvain’s features, and it only takes a few seconds for Felix to notice that there’s something… off about it. "Oh great, that saves me a lot of trouble. I'm Sylvain, nice to meet you?" He extends his hand, expecting Felix to take it. Reluctantly and with a frown, he does.
"Charmed." He can't help the sarcasm that drips from his tone.
Despite seeming to notice the redhead - Sylvain's - smile doesn't falter. "Come on! We've gotta work together, right? Might as well try to get along,"
Felix doesn't dignify that with a response. Again, Sylvain is nonplussed.
"So! Wanna meet tomorrow and get this started? I can do 3 or 4 is that works. If not, how's Saturday?"
Felix considers for a moment. He has his appointment with Manuela tomorrow around noon. She's always fickle with her schedule, sometimes early, sometimes late. He should be done before 4, though. The trouble would be the 40-minute commute to campus afterwards. He could do Saturday, but honestly, he doesn't feel like spending one of the few free days he has with this guy. Besides, the sooner he gets this over with, the better. He has one other option.
"Could you come to my apartment downtown?" He offers.
Sylvain looks surprised for a moment but nods. "Sure, I can do that. I'll give you my number and you can send me your address," he says.
Felix nods and hands over his phone. He isn't entirely comfortable with having a stranger at his place, but if it saves him from an inconvenience, so be it. The lesser of two evils. Besides, it's not like there will be a repeat of this, he tells himself.
"There, all done! See you tomorrow," he says, handing Felix back his phone and having the audacity to wink at him before he turns around and heads down the hall.
Felix looks at the new contact in his phone and holds back a grimace.
Sylvain :D Gautier
Yeah, this'll be a long three weeks.
-
Annette waves at him, trying to get his attention at the overly crowded dining hall. Going somewhere off campus would have been easier, but unlike him, Annette has meal plan money to spend. With his tray in hand, he heads over to the spot she’s saved for them.
“I thought you wouldn’t come,” she says as she sits.
He rolls his eyes. “You say that every time.”
“Well, not every time. Just the ones where you’re late,” she says.
“I’m not late.” He is. Only by five minutes, but he is. Loathe as he is to admit it, the history project has him in a bad mood. He found himself wandering around campus to try and take the edge off and lost track of time.
Annette sighs fondly. “Whatever you say. Anyways, what’s up with you?”
“Nothing,” he replies simply. He takes three pills from his backpack and downs them with a glass of water. Much to his relief, Annette has never asked what they’re for. That’s one of the reasons he likes her – she doesn’t pry. At least not when it comes to anything serious.
“As always, you’re a pleasure to have a conversation with. Hey, have I told you about this girl I met? Her name’s Mercedes. She’s really sweet. I think you’d like her, she’s a junior in the nursing school, but she’s my TA for bio. Hey, are you paying attention?” She waves a hand in front of his face. “Hello?”
“Yes,” he says.
“Yes what?”
“Yes to whatever you were saying,” he adds.
“Oh really? What was I saying?” She asks, eyes narrowed.
“Something about nursing?”
She considers his answer for a moment. There’s something about her scrutinizing look that makes him think that she sees right through him. “Hmmmmm. You’re in a bad mood.”
And there it is. In the few weeks they’ve known each other, she’s already picked up how to read him. There’s no use in answering or brushing her off. Part of him doesn’t even want to. Maybe I just need to vent.
“You can tell me,” she says, her gaze softening.
“I got partnered with an absolute idiot for an essay worth almost half my grade.”
“Oh yeah, that’ll do it. I had tons of those in high school.” She nods sympathetically.
“Three weeks and I’m going to have to do this entire thing on my own,” he grumbles. Yes, they’re meeting tomorrow, but he already expects Sylvain to derail the entire purpose of it and distract him with inane conversations for three to four hours.
“But hey! Maybe he won’t be so bad. You could make a new friend,” she suggests.
“I doubt it. What’s even in this?” He steals the pudding cup right from her hand and stares at the label.
“Hey! Give it back!”
He intentionally keeps it out of her reach.
“This is a one-way ticket to diabetes, you should top eating these.” Still, he lets her have it back.
“Awww, you care about me. Oh! Shit, I’m late. Sorry I have to cut this short, I have a meeting, sort of,” she explains. She gives him a kiss on the cheek as a goodbye and heads off – much like before with Sylvain – before he can say anything. Odd as that is, he doesn’t pay much mind to it and finishes his meal peacefully on his own.
-
He dreads today. He really does. He has a feeling that Manuela will be later than she usually is and then there’s Sylvain. He wishes he could fast-forward to tomorrow. Maybe for once he can stay in bed today and ignore the rest of the world. He could call Manuela and say he feels sick. Scratch that, the woman is insane enough to come here and knock down his door. With a sigh, he gets out of bed to start his daily routine.
It’s about 3:30 when he gets back to his apartment. He still has a little while. In other words, he has half an hour to make a dent in his research and get started before his afternoon gets derailed. No time for stalling. He has enough discipline to at least do that. He logs into GMU’s online catalogue and gets about 20 minutes in before his bell rings.
“Hey! I’m on time, right?” He asks as Felix lets him into the apartment.
“Yeah, you’re fine.”
Eyes full of curiosity, Sylvain scans his apartment with little trace of shame. He whistles, somehow impressed by the small one-bedroom space. To be fair, Felix has decorated it nicely and keeps it clean. “Wow, you have a nice place. Beats living in the dorms,” he says.
“I suppose.”
“Then again, your commute must be a pain in the ass. You have to get up really early to make it to history,” he adds. He’s moved on to pace towards his kitchen. Thanks to the apartment’s open concept, as the realtor had put it, he can still see Sylvain from where he’s sitting.
“I’m used to it,” he replies absently.
“You’re not much for conversation, are you?”
“Not when I have something to do,” he answers. It’s clearly something between a jab and a way to try and get them started on this thing. Instead, Sylvain lets out a chuckle.
At that moment, something catches his eye. He moves towards one of the counters with purpose and Felix already knows what he’s seen. He clenches his teeth and gets up.
“Oh, what’s with the pharmacy over? Hey, any of these Adderall?” He asks. He has the audacity to pick up one of the bottles and examine the label. Quickly as he can, Felix tears it from his hand.
“Keep your hands to yourself. That’s none of your business, you fucking asshole,” he seethes, eyes narrowed. This was a bad idea, but then again, he already knew that. He just didn’t expect it to go downhill in the first five minutes.
“Ok, I deserved that. Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I just – sorry,” he says, nervous and, well, genuine as far as Felix can tell. “Look, let me start over.”
“What?” He asks, anger momentarily replaced by confusion. The underlying annoyance he’s had since Sylvain walked in, though? That’s still there.
The aforementioned redhead walks towards the entrance and closes the door behind him. A few seconds later, Felix hears a knock.
“Hi, I’m Sylvain Gautier, it’s a pleasure to meet you and I look forward to working with you,” he says as soon as Felix opens the door. “I also promise to keep my hands to myself and mind my own business.”
Felix rolls his eyes, but the anger surprisingly fades and is replaced by… something. “I – fine, come back in,” he says.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ve never stepped foot in this apartment,” Sylvain says, a nonchalant smile playing on his features. Felix cocks an eyebrow at him but lets him be for now.
“Fine, lets get started. I already have some research, if you want to take a look at it. If not… I don’t know take your laptop out and do whatever.”
“I’m shocked that you think I’d be a deadbeat partner,” Sylvain says as he takes a seat and reaches for Felix’s laptop.
“Well, you hadn’t stepped a foot in class once since the semester started,” he says, typing in the password. The multiple tabs are open on his browser, each relating to a different member of a royal family line long since erased from the world.
“Hey, that’s not true! I went the first day,” Sylvain refutes.
Right. The first day of class – coincidentally the only one he’s missed, thanks to a brief scare that landed him in the ER for most of the day.
“Besides, there’s no reason to go. It’s not like they take attendance,” he adds.
Felix rolls his eyes. “Right, because it’s not like you need the material to study or anything.”
“Exactly, you get it.” He doesn’t. He has no idea how Sylvain will get the other 20% he needs to pass. Then again, that’s not his problem. “Still, if you do have some Adderall on your hands…”
“What Adderall? I thought you said you’d never been here,” Felix says, a small smirk playing at his features as proof of a forgiven faux pas. What possessed him to joke about it, he doesn’t know.
Sylvain laughs and smiles back at him, this one different from the ones he’d seen before, this one actually reaching his eyes. It clicks that that was what was off. His smile seemed like something practiced and worn unconsciously. He decides that he likes this one better.
“I’m making myself some coffee. Do you, I don’t know, want anything?” He asks. It’s common courtesy, drilled into him by his father at a young age and one of the few things that actually stuck.
“I’ll have some coffee, too.”
They stay in silence, not quite comfortable but not entirely awkward either. To Felix’s surprised, Sylvain seems invested in what he’s reading, so much so that he doesn’t lift his gaze from the screen as he takes a sip of the drink Felix placed in front of him. Instantly, he grimaces and coughs.
“How can you drink this? No milk? Sugar?”
“I’m not going to go fix it for you. If you want coffee, drink it as is.” And that’s as far as his courtesy goes.
Sylvain’s disappointment is clear in his frown, but Felix won’t budge. Realizing this, Sylvain goes back to reading, musing to himself out loud and taking the occasional note before his eyes wander off to the other side of the room.
“Hey, you play?” Sylvain asks, motioning to the guitar sitting in the corner of the room – and old Les Paul that Felix couldn’t bear to part with when he left home. Home. Such a strange thing to call that place. “Right, too many questions,” Sylvain amends.
“No.”
“Hm?”
“You asked whether I played. I didn’t, I used to sing.” Felix elaborates. The words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them, like water leaking through an old dam.
Sylvain’s eyes widen. “Like… in a band?” His tone is dazed, almost… hopeful?
“Yes?” He’s almost startled when Sylvain slams his hands on the table.
“Join my band.”
“What?”
“Join my band!”
“No, why the hell would I do that?” He asks. The very idea is appalling.
“Come on! We need a lead singer,” he insists.
“You barely know me. Besides, you haven’t even heard me sing. My voice could be shit for all you know.”
“You don’t seem like the type of guy who’d like about this sort of thing. Besides, you said you used to be in a band, right? That means you have experience.” Sylvain is doing his best to show his reasoning. While the point is somewhat valid, it’s superficial. If this guy has a band, what’s to say Felix will even get along well with the other members? Hell, what’s to say he’ll get along with the man in front of him?
“I - no, I’m not looking to join a band, so drop it.”
“Nope, can’t do that,” he says simply.
“You know I could just kick you out of my apartment,” he says.
“But you won’t,” Sylvain counters.
“And why’s that?”
“You want to get this project done as much as I do.”
Ok, fair. He’s right. “You’re insufferable. If I say I’ll think about it, can we get back to why we’re here?”
“That depends, are you actually going to think about it or are you just saying that to shut me up?” Sylvain asks. Cocky bastard.
“…”
“Thought so. I’ll get back to work, but please think it over? You don’t have to join right away, just come by one of our practice sessions. You’ll like the rest of the band, promise!” His tone is pleading and if Felix has an accurate read on him, he won’t drop this. He might stop asking today, but he’ll bring the subject back up, he’s sure.
“Are they as annoying as you are?”
“Now you’re just being mean,” he says, exaggeratedly offended. Felix rolls his eyes.
“… I’ll… think about it. Maybe,” he settles for saying.
“I think that’s as good an answer as I’m gonna get,” Sylvain smiles. He’s rocking the chair back and trying to balance a pen between his nose and upper lips. It’s only a moment later that the chair tumbles back onto the floor.
Yeah. He’s an idiot. But maybe working with him won’t be so bad.