Chapter Text
It’s nothing, at first. A nonevent, something so insignificant that Vax doesn’t even bother to bring along Vex. Getting his cloak fixed by a run-of-the-mill seamstress doesn’t require more than a few silver, and won’t result in a thing.
At least, that’s what Vax anticipates.
When he walks into your little shop and sees you sitting behind the counter, though, things change.
You’re nothing extraordinary, really. In fact, the bags under your eyes, plain and worn clothing, and the deep lines on your face give the impression of a haggard seamstress, down on their luck. Still, Vax feels something looking at you, something he hasn’t felt in a long time. That kind of something that makes him want to earn one of your smiles, to soothe the frown on your face, to kiss you on those plush lips.
He blinks, frozen in place out of surprise. Sure, he’s a romantic, but it’s not like him to fall in love with random strangers, just because they’re a little pretty. Or, in your case, a lot pretty.
Shaking himself back into reality, Vax forces himself to walk confidently as he approaches your desk. You don’t look up, which isn’t too surprising; he’s always been sneaky, even when he’s not trying to. “Hello there,” he greets, rapping his knuckles against your wooden desk.
You startle, attention pulled away from the papers that he can now see are bills to focus on him. “Oh, uh, hi,” you greet, smiling politely as you stare at his chin. “How can I help you?”
Vax pulls out his cloak, the one that tore in his latest adventure hunting down some merc who’d pissed off the wrong people. “I was wondering if you could patch this up for me.”
When you take the black fabric from his hands to inspect it, your fingers brush against his. The gentle feeling of your somewhat calloused fingertips on his skin is like sparks lighting under the flesh, down to the very bone. He wants to feel it more. Fuck, this is already getting pathetic on his part.
Your eyebrows furrow as you inspect the ragged tear lining the side of his cloak, lip finding its place between your teeth. “I can have this finished by tomorrow night, for two gold.”
Vax grins, resting one of his arms on your desk so he can lean closer to you. “That sounds wonderful, Dear,” he hums, causing you to once again look up at him, surprised. The pet name had caught you off guard, but Vax can’t bring himself to regret it. You just look so adorable when flustered.
A small, shy smile lights up your face. “Oh, uh… thank you.” The slightly awkward response has you grimacing, but Vax doesn’t mind.
“I’ll be back tomorrow. Looking forward to it,” he says, slapping two gold pieces down on your desk. It’s tempting to throw in a wink as well, but you seem flustered enough already. Instead, he simply tosses a few more gold in your tip jar.
“Thank you, sir,” you say, hands seeming to fumble for a bit before you decide to reach one out in an offer for a handshake.
Vax doesn’t hesitate to give a firm shake, fingers clinging to you for half a second longer than needed. “Please, call me Vax.”
“Vax,” you hum, as if testing the name. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Vax.”
He grins, nodding his head at you before slinking out of the store, a slight skip in his step. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.
You stare after the half-elf who just left your little tailor shop. He was interesting, not at all like your usual clients, who pay the bare minimum and barely spare you a second glance. Vax was… nice. Charming, even.
Handsome, too .
That thought comes unbidden, but not untrue. He had been quite attractive, even you had to admit. A part of you had been tempted to… what? Make a move? Not likely, with your social skills.
Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Tomorrow, he’ll come to collect his cloak and you’ll likely never see him again. Just another customer.
A sigh rises out of your chest as you pull out a sewing kit and get to work on the fabric. The cut is jagged and difficult, but you’ve been a seamstress for years now. It’s nothing you can’t handle.
As you push the needle through the fabric, threading a clean fix, your mind continues to wander. Maybe… maybe you should have made some sort of a move on Vax. He’d certainly seemed flirtatious enough. Perhaps he wouldn’t mind. Perhaps he would even return your affections.
And then what? Happily ever after? No. He wouldn’t put up with you for long.
The thought makes you frown. No matter how much pride you take in disagreeing with the things your father might say, you don’t know if you can disagree with that one. There’s nothing extraordinary about you, no real appeal. You’re a poor seamstress with horrid social skills and an anxious cavern for a mind. Who’d want to court someone like that?
Surely not Vax. He’d been well dressed, charming, and attractive. Someone who would have no trouble finding a better partner, should he want.
You decide to put the thoughts of the roguish half-elf out of your mind, to the best of your ability. Nothing good will come from pondering on it, at the very least, not when you have bills to ponder on instead.
Once again, you go over your expenses in your mind, trying to find a way to pay rent this month. You’re only short a couple of gold, but after a few months of being short, you doubt the landlord will allow another month of too little pay. Allocating some of your clothing allowance could fill the gap, but all your outfits are beginning to fray.
Apparently, you’ll just have to work overtime for the next few weeks and hope that will cover it. It’s far from your favorite thing to do, but there’s not a lot of options. Worse things have happened.
The rest of the day brings only a few more clients, even with you staying open until well past midnight. You’re forced to close shop when you catch yourself falling asleep at your desk for the third time.
You don’t even bother to change before slipping into the small cot kept in the back room of your store, far too tired to do anything of the sort. Luckily, sleep comes easily, along with one final thought of Vax’s handsome features before you slide into a very welcome state of unconsciousness.