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“Woah, someone’s having a godsdamn day,” Tiadrin snorted as Runaan landed next to her with a thud, sprawling out in the grass, looking up into the sky. “What the fuck happened? Was it your little assassin’s club or—“
“Please don’t call it that,” Runaan groaned, irritated.
“Did the killer spy gang kick you out?”
“Somehow worse.”
“Just tell us,” Lain huffed. It would have held more weight had he not had his head in Tiadrin’s lap, her hand pushing through his hair. “If something happened with the other assassins, they just don’t see how good you are--”
“It’s not the assassins! Nothing about assassins!” Runaan pressed his hands over his eyes as he shouted.
Tiadrin and Lain went silent.
“...well then, what the fuck is it?” Tiadrin asked, ignoring the Look her boyfriend was giving her. “Look, whatever shit happened, we’re gonna help you out. Did someone ‘dishonor’ you or whatever? Me ‘nd Lain’ll go kick their asses all the way to the Human Kingdoms for ya.”
“That’s not what happened!”
“Then will you stop being so damn cryptic and tell us?!”
Runaan sighed, loud and still irritated. “If I tell you, will you shut up?”
“Depends. If I shut up will you let me help you?”
“You are insufferable.”
“No, I’m Tiadrin and I’m one of the only two friends you have. Now tell us!”
Runaan sighed, again. “Fine. You--”
Tiadrin cut him off with a *yesss!* “Oh-- sorry. Continue.”
Runaan fought back the urge to just get up and leave. “So as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted,” He gave Tiadrin a smug look as she fumed, but kept silent. “You both know Ethari?”
“The craftsman’s apprentice, yeah.” Lain paused as his girlfriend stopped mid-nod to glare at him, and he shrugged. “I didn’t promise to shut up.”
“Yes, him. He, uh…” he trailed off and coughed into his fist.
“What’d he do, make you a bad sw-- oh.” Tiadrin, who hadn’t even gone a minute without breaking her promise again, realized the way Runaan’s face was flushing. “Oh. Oh my gods, Runaan, you—”
“With Ethari?!” Lain’s face lit up as he scrambled to sit up. Runaan stayed silent, not looking at either of them.
“What did he do?! How did he managed to get Mister ‘I don’t feel any emotions but Rage’--”
“He smiled!” Runaan groaned as his friends squealed. “He smiled at me, and he said ‘wow you looked really good out there,’ and how am I even supposed to respond to that--”
“Runaan and Ethari!” Tiadrin hollered, “Sittin’ in a tree! F-U-C-K-I--”
“Gods, you two would be adorable,” Lain’s hands were flapping in excitement, “Do you think you’ll ask him out?”
Record scratch-- both Tiadrin and Runaan stared at Lain, and then Tiadrin turned to stare at Runaan as well, unkempt glee in her eyes. “Well?”
There was a long pause, which remained unbroken by Lain and Tiadrin (for once).
“I-- well,” Runaan tugged at the grass.
Tiadrin waited a moment and sighed. “You’re telling me you’re training to kill people and yet ya can’t ask a boy out on a—”
“Assassinating people doesn’t require things like— like emotions, and cute boys!”
“I mean, it depends on who you’re assassinating,” Lain murmured. Tiadrin scoffed.
“Listen, Runaan. I said that if you told me the thing you were panicking over, I’d help you.” She showed off a toothy grin. “So now we,” she looped an arm around her boyfriend’s neck, “Are gonna help you woo Ethari.”