Chapter Text
“So, you’ve never had chocolate?” You leaned against your kitchen counter. Romani was sitting on your kitchen table with a box of chocolate in his lap. His hair was getting longer now, down to his collar bones, he pushed it away from his face and smiled awkwardly at you. In the dimmed lighting of the sunset, it was even more adorable than usual. Soft, warm, and full of misplaced energy.
“No, not ever,” he admitted. He fiddled with the box and finally ripped it open and pulled out a single block of chocolate.
“Seriously, the more I hear about how depressing your childhood was, I wonder which asscrack of a country you grew out of. Like a dandelion in the pavement of hell.” Romani pouted and shoved the unwrapped chocolate in his mouth.
And the brat, instead of moaning in pleasure at the taste, swallowed much too quickly so he could retort, “I grew up in Israel actually.”
Well… you weren’t expecting that. Typically, it was a lot more like pulling the teeth of a hippo to get him to share anything about his past. Much less reveal where he came from. The bastard was cagey as fuck. If you pressed on this now… would you ever hear about it again? Would he ever feel comfortable enough to sit on your counter in your stolen hoodie and eat your chocolate?
You blinked. Romani dropped his pout and unwrapped another block of chocolate. He spent the time to taste it this go around, and as expected, he moaned in delight at that taste.
No. No he wouldn’t.
“Do you speak Hebrew then, Green? Took you more for a Latin guy, summoning demons out of toilets while conjugating ‘to be’ and things like that,” you offered. Romani choked and stared at you in what could only be described as utter confusion and concern. You smiled and took a block of chocolate from the box.
“You know, towel cape tied tight, Burger King crown on just right, plunger raised to the ceiling, toilet on fire…” you continued with the same jovial tone. Romani snorted and held the box close to his chest. You made room for yourself between his legs and rested your elbows on his knees.
“I think I like Hebrew more than Latin. Not as many Harry Potter references,” Romani said as he set the box aside. You shook your head and popped the chocolate into your mouth.
“What are you doing, Ritsuka?” Romani asked as he looked down at you. His hair fell from behind his ear again. His eyes were glittering like stars. His smile was sweetly amused and nervous. A pink blush settled high on his cheekbones. His bangs fell forward and a part of you almost envisioned a crown or leaning up to kiss him. You swallowed thickly.
“Thinking about how pretty you are.”
Romani lurched back with a surprised yelp; his hands covered his face in the same split second. You laughed and leaned away to give him space. You pulled away from him and dusted your hands of non-existent chocolate dust.
“Ritsukaaaa,” Romani whined. You snorted and punched his knee.
“You’re fine,” you said warmly. Romani pulled his hands away to glare at you with a most vicious pout. Like a cat. He was bright pink and flustered. Still… he didn’t move away or call you anything rude. And you’ve seen him pin a mugger to the wall for touching his limited edition vtuber backpack.
“That, and I’m thinking about making sure that you try everything,” you added thoughtlessly. Romani… even just chocolate was new. What else was he missing from modern life? Just what did his father do? Questions the damn rat wouldn’t answer even under a truth serum. So instead… showing him what the world had to offer, that would help him heal wouldn’t it? Help him distract himself from whatever he left behind in Israel? You could only hope.
But with a man who kept looking over his shoulder; how do you inspire him to look forward?
“Trying… everything?” Romani attempted to clarify. His hands fell to his lap, and he sat up straight.
“You know… food, movies, and dancing. Things like that.”
“I can dance.”
“You can?”
“Well… not well. I haven’t in a long time.”
“Then we can learn how to dance together. Just the two of us.”
“You… together?”
“Yeah. I want to try things with you, Romani.”
Romani smiled. Not even an ounce of nerves in his eyes. You smiled back.
“I’d like that.”