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Madeleine admires the way Espresso takes care of himself.
The mage is as meticulous about his appearance as he is with his research.
Precise and exact. Never too much, never lacking, always just right.
Madeleine supposes that should be a given. Espresso’s reputation as the Republic’s renowned coffee wizard exceeds him, many have said. It wouldn’t do to present oneself in any way less than perfect, especially not when he has to appear in front of hundreds of young impressionable students who look up to him with respect and admiration. Espresso would hope they pick up his impeccable taste in fashion along the way.
He dresses immaculately in dark colours. And from what Madeleine knows thus far, he only seems to own clothes in varying shades of black.
It’s easy to end up looking monotonous and flat as a result of a rather limited colour palette, and so to avoid his overall appearance from being dull, Espresso has a penchant for adding a tasteful pop of pastel to his attire. Madeleine makes it a game every time he sees the mage to identify which magenta accessory he’s wearing that day.
Bedhead hair can be a nightmare for some, and Espresso knows this all too well. Which is why he makes it that his hair is properly styled every morning, ensuring that not a strand is out of place throughout the day.
It doesn’t matter if he’s only staying inside his lab or if he’s running errands around the kingdom grounds, Espresso is never without his trusty hair brush and hair jelly when dawn breaks.
(Those occasions when Madeleine catches a long thread of gold in his inky dark hair are considered good omens to the knight. He would be smiling widely throughout the day.)
His nails are trimmed and manicured, always painted a shiny coat of black polish and never a chip in sight. Some days, if Espresso allows it, he’d let Madeleine paint them for him.
(Those occasions when Espresso lets out the most beautiful laugh at Madeleine’s poor attempt at trying to keep the polish from bleeding out are signs that he’s brightened up the mage’s tiring day.)
He hardly shows any skin too. Madeleine feels that’s important to point out.
Though he doesn’t know how to explain it, there’s something alluring about being treated to rare peeks of bare skin from someone who dresses so conservatively.
Usually it’s when Espresso is sitting with his legs crossed on his plush leather seat while examining some papers, the hem of his slacks would ride up to reveal the small patch of skin between pants and socks. Sometimes Madeleine has the luck of witnessing a flash of bare wrists when the mage leans over to pick something up from the ground. If Divine Grace allows it, a gush of strong wind from the north would lift Espresso’s robe just enough for Madeleine to see more than his ankles.
(Those occasions when it happens, Madeleine deems himself the most blessed Child of Light in all of Earthbread.)
Every day is a new coordinated outfit that has been thoughtfully chosen by Espresso the night before. He would have them neatly placed on the chair next to the floor length mirror.
There are of course rare days where Espresso forgets to lay out his clothes the night prior. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, Madeleine gets treated to a nice show in the morning.
Perhaps it’s not as pleasant for Espresso as it is for Madeleine’s ogling. Not when he’s pacing about in a rush trying to find the right clothes.
Madeleine wakes up that morning to sounds of Espresso’s annoyed mumbling and the distinct noise of clothes hangers clattering against one another.
His eyes flutter open, vision still bleary from sleep as he turns to his side where the sounds are coming from. Madeleine instinctively reaches out an arm to find Espresso, but all he gets is the feeling of cold rumpled sheets under his palm.
“Espresso?” He calls out.
He doesn’t get an immediate response, only the sounds of shuffling feet against the wooden floor greets him.
Madeleine props himself up on his elbow, while his other hand to rub the fuzziness out from his eye. He blinks and squints, a smile slowly forming when Espresso’s fretting image comes into view.
It takes a moment for the other cookie to register that his name is being called. Espresso turns to the bed from his intent staring at the closet, his expression one of surprise.
“Ah, good morning Madeleine. Did I wake you?”
Madeleine gives him a sleepy grin. “No, but the rough treatment towards your clothes did.”
He has to fight down the urge to laugh when Espresso turns visibly sheepish.
Espresso pushes his glasses up, fingers fiddling with the thin temple.
“My apologies, I forgot to prepare my clothes for today.” He sighs, turning his gaze back to the open closet. “I was invited to give a talk on runic transmutation today at Parfaedia. Seems I was so busy with preparations that I’ve forgotten to pick out my clothes.”
Madeleine eyes the clock. “It’s still early though, there’s no need to rush.”
His words go unnoticed by Espresso, who has already gone back to rummaging through his closet once more.
Madeleine sits up on the mattress and stretches his arms, the satisfying cracks of his back joints makes him feel more awake now. He gets up from the bed and slowly pads towards where Espresso is.
He can hear Espresso’s mumbling as he stands close behind the mage, and despite seeing how the other cookie is occupied with his clothes, Madeleine still wraps his arms around Espresso’s waist, pulling him close against his chest. The mage does not resist his hug, but instead melts against Madeleine’s hold as the blond starts peppering kisses on his cheek.
“Is that what’s gotten you so flustered?”
He watches the way Espresso’s shoulders sag. The mage replies dourly without breaking away from his current task, hands still lifting the clothes hanger side by side.
“I just can’t seem to make up my mind on what to wear today.”
Madeleine can’t help but chuckle. He leans in to give Espresso another quick kiss to the cheek before releasing him.
“Would you like some help?”
That seems to get Espresso’s attention, he turns to look at Madeleine with a raised brow.
“You’ll just say I look good in everything.”
“You do though, sue me.” Madeleine laughs.
Espresso’s eyes linger on the clothes in his hands as he hums, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“I suppose having a second opinion is better than being stuck in a dilemma for an entire morning.”
He misses Madeleine's triumphant grin when he promptly turns away.
“I have a few pieces picked out already. I’m just unsure which combination looks better.” Espresso begins, lifting a finger to tap at his bottom lip.
“I need something a bit different from what I usually wear. The lecture will be held in the auditorium, I would think the occasion calls for something dressier.”
Madeleine nods despite the other’s eyes being elsewhere.
“Well go ahead and bring them out. I promise I’ll do my best.”
As Espresso is considering which outfit to try on first, Madeleine goes to pull up a chair and place it near the floor length mirror. He slumps down, all the while watching Espresso make hurried steps to the waffle changing screen with an arm full of fabric. He will never cease to finds it amusing how his partner still feels the need to be modest around him.
Sounds of fabric rustling and zippers hissing could be heard, but they’re muted to Madeleine’s ears.
When Espresso emerges from behind the screen, Madeleine’s pupils are fixed and dilated as he takes in what he’s seeing.
He is dressed in a long black robe that’s cinched at the waist with a thin belt, the fabric is textured and thicker than the ones Madeleine sees him usually wear. It doesn’t swirl around his ankles with the slightest turn. A pink silken cravat is secured around his high collared shirt, the rest of it is neatly tucked into the robe. Underneath it Madeleine can see ironed slacks and a pair of shiny oxfords.
It’s a bit more formal than what Espresso normally goes for. Fitting for a school visit, he feels.
“Your thoughts?” Espresso asks. He goes to stand in front of the mirror, turning to his sides as he inspects the coat and his hands brushing away any lint that may be stuck to the fabric.
Madeleine brings up a hand to rub at his chin. He likes this one (he likes seeing Espresso in any outfit), and though it’s quite suitable for giving a lecture in front of the entire school, he feels it’s a tat too stuffy.
“It’s a bit too stiff.” Madeleine says with a careless shrug. “I’m not an expert on this, but I do feel there’s more room to play around considering this is just a presentation.”
Espresso takes one last look at the mirror and nods. “No, you’re absolutely right about that. I’m not going to some broad meeting with the other mages after all.”
He walks pass Madeleine and disappears behind the waffle screen again.
Madeleine waits patiently for Espresso to change into his next outfit, sounds of fabric rustling and zippers hissing bounces off the wall of the otherwise quiet bedroom.
The mage emerges in a black trench coat this time, the length of it ends just past his knees, much to Madeleine’s pleasant surprise.
He cannot tell for sure what Espresso wearing underneath the thick coat, but judging from the muted fuscia necktie, he can guess that Espresso might be wearing a simple black button up inside.
A capelet is thrown around his shoulders and secured with two pink diamond shaped pins that are connected by a thin silver chain. His dark slacks have been tucked into a pair of knee length boots, the leather gleams under light shining through their bedroom window.
Madeleine likes this one too. Though the silhouette of it is different from what Espresso is known for wearing, it’s a refreshing alternative look on him (exceptionally handsome, Madeleine would say. But then again, his Espresso is always handsome).
Compared to the last selection, Madeleine prefers this one more. Yet, he feels something is missing.
He shakes his head and offers Espresso an apologetic smile. “I like this one too, a bit more than the other one, in fact. But I feel it’s still lacking something.”
Espresso looks down at his boots, his eyebrows knitted in concentration. He doesn’t ask Madeleine to elaborate, he too seems to share the sentiment, though he can’t quite pin point what exactly is missing.
“You have a point. Even with my cloak on, I would feel under dressed...” He sighs. “No matter, I have one last set. Third time’s the charm, they say.”
He goes behind the changing screen again before Madeleine could verbally agree with him.
Madeleine leans back against the chair, a fond smile on his face.
It’s truly so endearing how serious Espresso is about this.
He can’t say he understands, what with the blond only ever seen in either his blessed armor or poet shirts. But he can try to support Espresso’s endeavors and help as best as he can without being heavily biased.
(An impossible feat that he is aware of. It’s the thought and effort that counts!)
The crisp sound of heels clicking against the floor brings Madeleine’s consciousness back from the clouds. His eyes light up when he sees Espresso again.
Instead of a one piece dress or robe, Espresso has on a dark blouse with an intricate lace collar.
He has forgone his tie for a white jabot, but the signature pink accent remains in the form of a jeweled brooch that sits perfectly in the middle of his shirt collar. His shoulders have been covered by a capelet jacket that is entirely unbuttoned, revealing his detailed lace shirt. The blouse itself is neatly tucked into a long high waist skirt that hugs his hips down to his thighs and flares at his ankles.
Madeleine’s eyes linger a tat longer on Espresso’s legs. It doesn’t help that beneath it is a pair of heeled oxfords.
The overall silhouette remains the same as what Espresso would wear, and in the style that Madeleine is most familiar with--modest but stylishly flattering. But Madeleine finds the third outfit most satisfying out of the other three options.
His smile returns, and he nods firmly.
“This one.”
Espresso lets out an inquisitive hum, tilting his head slightly as he regards Madeleine before turning to look at himself in the full length mirror.
“Why this one in particular?”
Madeleine’s smile turns sheepish, almost bashful.
“I’m afraid I can’t give you another answer besides the fact that you look great in in.”
“I had expected something like that.” Espresso says drily.
He continues to inspect his reflection for any crease or discoloration. It’s been a while since he’s worn this particular blouse, he can’t be too sure if any moths have gotten to it.
“But if I may be honest...”
Madeleine’s voice catches his attention, and Espresso turns back to face the paladin.
Raising an elegant brow, he prompts. “Go on.”
Madeleine doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reaches out to pull Espresso in close and proceed to wrap his arms around the mage’s hips.
Espresso allows himself to be pulled along, curious as to what Madeleine will do next. He stays there, caged between Madeleine’s thighs and strong arms as he looks down to meet with the blond’s intense gaze.
Madeleine’s lips quirked upwards into a lopsided grin, and Espresso can see the slightest glint of mischief in those deceivingly innocent blue eyes.
“I quite like how your legs are elongated this way.”
Espresso almost wheezes out a laugh.
“And though you will be wearing a cloak when you leave the house, I for one at least know how lovely you look underneath it.” Madeleine continues in an easy tone. “The dress accentuates your thighs and hips. It makes me glad you have an extra layer on when you’re out and about...”
This oaf...
Espresso bristles, but the cause of it stems not from anger. He would much prefer it if Madeleine thinks it is though. With how hot his face feels, Espresso hopes the blond mistakes it for anything but embarrassment.
How is one supposed to respond to that? Espresso doesn’t understand how he never is able to counter Madeleine’s painfully earnest and straightforward ways.
He doesn’t like not having the last word out, especially when it’s concerning Madeleine. But in this case, he has no other choice but to begrudgingly change the subject.
Espresso clears his throat and quickly adverts his eyes elsewhere.
“Hungry?” He suddenly asks.
Madeleine shakes his head, that stupidly fond smile of his is still present.
“I think I’ve had my fill. All that eye candy can get me through the day!”
Espresso rolls his eyes and scoffs. His forced grimace could not stand against Madeleine’s cheesiness, he’s come to learn. He fails to stifle his laugh, so he turns away from Madeleine and smacks at his arm.
“Well in any case, thank you for helping me pick out my clothes. I should get started on breakfast now before I do my hair.”
He places his hands on Madeleine’s biceps and slowly takes a step back, fully expecting the blond to let go as he does so. But Madeleine only pulls him closer in his embrace, the sudden action makes Espresso stumble forward.
“Wait, let me do your hair.” Madeleine pauses, pressing his lips together before continuing. “If you’ll allow it.”
Oh?
Espresso knows better than any other cookie in the kingdom just how adept Madeleine is at hair care, so he’s not one to doubt the blond’s experience in hair styling either.
That’s how Espresso finds himself sitting in front of the dresser, his hands folded primly on his lap as he watches Madeleine work from the mirror.
Madeleine is always gentle at handling his hair, even during mornings where his bedhead leaves him looking like a blueberry bird’s nest. There’s no harsh tugging or forceful de-tanglement of even the most stubborn knots.
His messy hair would always become inexplicably pliant under Madeleine’s fingertips. Espresso wouldn’t be surprised if Light magic came into play somehow. Maybe that’s what makes it possible for Madeleine to grow his hair into that shocking length.
Espresso closes his eyes and allows himself to better take in the sensation of soft bristles scraping against his scalp, along with the feeling of Madeleine’s fingertips stroking across the nap of his neck.
“Done!” Madeleine announces in a voice that’s full to the brim with pride.
Espresso blinks open his eyes and peers into the mirror. A ghost of a smile appears on his lips when he sees his reflection.
“The blue doesn’t quite match with the colour scheme I have on right now but...” Espresso’s tone is light and laced with rare playfulness.
Madeleine’s smile grows as he watches Espresso reach out a hand to fiddle with the ends of the ribbon.“I suppose I will allow it since you’ve so graciously helped me with this ponytail.”
He slowly gets up from the dresser chair, patting down any creases that might have formed on his skirt before stepping away from the antique chocolate furniture.
“Now then, breakfast.”
He is stopped from leaving the bedroom once again by Madeleine. The blond has his hand over Espresso’s shoulder, who is a mere step away from being out of the door frame. The mage definitely wasn’t expecting this a second time, he turns around and his curious gaze is met with Madeleine’s soft expression.
“No, let me. It wouldn’t do to let cooking fumes stick onto your clothes.” Madeleine says. “Not when we’ve spend quite some time deciding on which for you to wear.”
He makes a very reasonable argument there, Espresso must admit.
“Alright. I suppose I’ll get my materials ready in the meantime.”
And with that, Espresso leans forward on his tiptoes to give Madeleine a kiss on the lips. He does not miss how the other smiles against him as his kiss is reciprocated with fervor.
A bit too much fervor, in fact.
Espresso quickly pulls back and gives Madeleine’s cheek a firm pat, huffing in mild annoyance as he watches the blond wince. His hand linger on the other’s face still, fingertips brushing against high cheekbones, the action gentle in contrast to the harsh smack earlier.
With some reluctance, he retracts his hand and turns to leave, the sound of his heeled shoes echoing faintly into the corridors.
Madeleine remains standing on the same spot until Espresso’s footsteps have gone silent, only then does he finally react. He rests a hand on his hips as he rubs at the back of his neck with the other, a crooked grin stretching across his face.
“I deserved that.”
He promised to make breakfast, so he best get a move on lest Espresso has to leave with an empty stomach.
As Madeleine looks around the bedroom for the shirt he wore yesterday, he ponders of an imaginary scenario where he’s granted permission to gift Espresso with clothes of his own colour palette.
Would Espresso allow it? Madeleine thinks he would looks good in a combination of white and gold. But who is to know for sure until it happens before his eyes.
One thing’s for sure though.
Madeleine really must find a chance to indulge Espresso with new clothes in the future.
End.