Chapter Text
Dear Dion,
People may label your eyes as one simple color, but when I look into them I see shades and colors that only exist on you. Your very being enraptures me. I find myself a star lost in the orbit that is you, pulled in for all eternity. Your voice is a gravity, grounding me to earth, reminding me of the joys on earth.
I know reciprocation is little a possibility. Regardless, I shall stay in your pull, and selfishly, I hope you will share your light and warmth with an insignificant star like me.
"Aren't we a little old for silly love letters?" Barnabas snarked, plopping down next to Dion in the mess hall, broad shoulders bumping. Barnabas, who was never put together, was no different today with mismatched buttons and tie askew on his neck.
"I think it's rather sweet. Like a hallmark movie." Harbard purred, sitting beside Barnabas; in contrast, the silver haired man was always well put together, not a hair out of place, nor a wrinkle on his clothes.
Dion, all perfect teeth and hair and rich clothes, blond hair glimmering and honey brown eyes deep, looked lost in thought, ignoring the snarks of his questionable friends. "But... who would write me love letters? I didn't think I'd have any admirers who wouldn't just outright tell me. They're definitely not this eloquent or... sweet... either."
Barnabas let out a soft snort, opening his mouth for a scathing response, only to let out a choke as Harbard elbows him. Harbard leans over the table and Barnabas to peek at the letter, his piercing blue eyes flicking over the sweet words curiously. "You are correct in it being awfully eloquent. That may narrow down your potential suitor pool significantly."
The lean silver haired boy retracts to sit normally again, ignoring Barnabas' annoyed grumblings. "Say, Dion, do you have any clue as to whom it may be? You don't know many people."
Dion shook his head, combing blond hairs out of his face, still looking lost in his own thoughts. "No, I haven't a clue. I think I'll leave it be for now, give it time."
Harbard nodded, resting his chin on Barnabas' shoulder to look over at Dion, blue eyes searching. "And if you find out who it is? Is there any chance of romance in your heart? You're not exactly known for being sweet and sappy."
Barnabas huffed in annoyance but turned to Dion as well, the pair of blue eyes locked on his face. "I'm curious about that as well. Whoever wrote this seems to be the complete opposite of you on the romantic scale. I'd be afraid of hurting them."
Harbard shot his head off his shoulder, giving Barnabas a sly look that fell into place all too easy on his handsome face. "Nobody could love YOU romantically Barnabas, as rough and messy as you are."
Barnabas smirked, leaning towards Harbard's face intimidatingly. "That's not what you said last night."
As the two Waloeders bickered (not unlike an old married couple...), Dion sunk into further despair in his thoughts, Barnabas' words of 'I'd be afraid of hurting them' resonating in his skull over and over.
---
Lovely Dion,
The moment my eyes met yours I was lost in a world where only you are my future. When you walk by, flowers blossom in your wake and its almost as if you command all the light of the world in the way you glow. Are you certain you are not a child of the sun? Someone as beautiful as you, inside and out, surely must be alien. Our mere human eyes are not meant to witness the loveliness that is your existence.
I have seen you searching for me. I kindly request that you do not, for I am not ready for the fallout of my inherently bold actions. Please allow me the time to write out my feelings for you, and, hopefully, rally the confidence to stand in front of your radiance and not melt like the spring snow.
Dion sighed quietly as his eyes roamed the paper over and over, the looping, elegant cursive. His thoughts have been entirely consumed by this mystery admirer, oh so sweet in words, in ways Dion never thought someone may like him in. Dion's past relationships had all been trainwrecks, and that's describing it kindly. He most certainly has never been the reciprocant of extravagant romance, letters detailing the effervescence of his being. It, in a way, made Dion feel like a giggling schoolboy, wanting to kick his feet in the air and roll around as the bubbling emotions overcome him.
But Dion found himself to be unworthy of such admiration and love; none of his past partners treated him well, so why would he deserve someone so sweet, so smart, and so eloquent? He sighed again, running a hand through his hair, folding up the letter and tucking it away carefully into his backpack.
The blond leans back on the park bench, gaze roaming around him; people's dogs running around and playing, kids climbing trees, a squirrel sneakily stealing a man's pizza as he looks away-
All of a sudden, red and black surges in front of his eyes. His honey gaze travels upwards, landing on a mischievous face. Crystalline blue eyes glimmered towards him, framed by soft strawberry curls, all on a handsomely round face.
Dion jolted in surprise, but offered an easy smile, patting the empty spot next to him. "Joshua. I feel as if we have not had a moment to speak in years."
The lithe redhead gave a soft laugh in response, plopping down next to Dion and leaning back comfortably, red shirt clinging to his skinny form. His lips ever a soft, mischievous smile, the edges forever quirked. "Dion, we have philosophy together. This semester. I saw you all but two days ago. Don't tell me you're going senile already?"
Dion rolled his eyes playfully, knocking Joshua's shoulder, honey brown eyes locked on Joshua's. "Oh, stop it, you. You know what I mean. We haven't had a moment to hang out or spend time together in so long. Besides, I barely can wave at you when class is over before you sprint out!" The broad blond let out a soft laugh as Joshua's lips formed a pout. "What even is so important that you run as if your behind is on fire?"
Joshua huffed indignantly but melted into a smile easily, a hand waving in the air dismissively. "You know how Clive is. If I lollygag for a moment too long and don't arrive home exactly on time, he'll call emergency services."
Dion shook his head in good nature, an amused smile falling into place. "Ah, indeed, your brother's a bit of a helicopter parent. I cannot fault him much, you are a handful."
"What does that mean?!" Joshua exclaimed, surging forward to grab Dion's shoulders and shake him playfully, dissolving into giggles, forehead resting on Dion's shoulder. His soft curls tickled Dion's cheek, the permeating smell of cinnamon wafting from the Rosfield boy. "Well, what about you? Life treating you well?"
Dion sighed again, resting his cheek on Joshua's head, eyes closing. "It is the same as usual. My father is pressing for me to be better and Barnabas and Harbard are still pretending they don't want to bang each other." He pauses, hesitantly adding, "although as of late, I've gotten... romantic letters from a mystery person. That's new."
Joshua made a soft sound of acknowledgement, wiggling out from under Dion's head to excitedly meet his gaze, hands grasping his forearms. "That sounds exciting, Dion! What do the letters say? Do you like them, or do I need to hunt down a creep for you?"
The blond laughed lightly, shooing the Rosfield off of him, head shaking. "No no, nothing creepy or weird." He paused, smiling softly. "They're very sweet, very romantic. I like the letters a lot, but I am unsure if I should be receiving such high praise and love. I'm scared that if I know who they are, I won't be able to provide them with the same affections they send out."
The blue-eyed boy tilted his head, smile slipping off his face into a frown, eyebrows creasing. "None of that. You're marvelous all on your own accord, don't bring yourself down like that. And not everyone requires affections returned in the same way they give it out. Love languages and all."
Dion made a soft sound of acknowledgement deep in his throat, gaze growing distant as thoughts overcome his mind. "Yeah yeah, I understand. It's just hard to absorb, you know? It's hard to comprehend that someone may feel so passionately for me."
Joshua nodded dumbly then his mischievous smile fell back into place, crystal eyes glinting. "Do you have any idea who it might be?" He leaned in, knocking Dion's shoulder with his own. "Are you suuuure It's not Barnabas or Harbard fucking with you and trying to get a third?"
Dion stared incredulously at Joshua for a few seconds of pregnant silence before facepalming, his hand dragging down his face. "And how did you come to that conclusion?! No, I don't have a clue who it might be and, no, Harbard and Barnabas seemed just as baffled and intrigued as me."
The strawberry blond snorted in amusement, eyes trailing people walking by. "Well, I guess you'll have to be patient and wait then." He stood up suddenly, turning to Dion and giving a tiny wave, sly expression blanketing his face like second nature. "Well, Lesage, as much as I'd like to bug you about your mystery admirer, I promised Mid I'd help work out the kinks in her new project."
Dion stood up as well, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and meeting Joshua's crystalline gaze with a smile. "Ah, you're in deep then, I presume? I wish you luck with that."
Joshua shook his head with a laugh, running a hand through his soft waves. "You don't even know the worst of it!" He turned and began to walk away, peeking over his shoulder. "Don't be a stranger Dion, let's make time to spend together, okay? See ya!"
Dion watched wordlessly as his old friend ran off, lanky form awkward and gait-y in a way that was undeniably Joshua. With amusement bubbling and a happiness with uniting with an old friend, Dion turned to walk home, a bounce to his step.
---
Divine Dion,
You may feel like a tiny, insignificant grain of sand, but to me you are the crashing tide, irresistibly beautiful in its own unique way, even at its lowest moments. I fear that no one else has shown you just how heavenly your existence is... so allow me to be the one.
I think I'm going insane. I swear I see flowers blooming out of your chest, galaxies in your eyes, stars on the tip of your tongue, and the sun in your skin. You're the whole universe to me.
I may never find words beautiful enough to describe all that you mean to me, but I'll spend the rest of my life looking for them so that I can convey it to you. Can you be patient enough to wait for me to stand under your glow and find the words? I selfishly want to request more of your time. I understand time is but a finite thing; I promise to not keep you in the dark much longer.
Soft moonlight crept in through the open window, the biting chill of the night going by unnoticed by the blond bathing in the moon's gift. Under it his hair glows like a halo, his honey eyes sent into abysses, the gentle slopes of his features outlined like a painter's masterpiece.
Dion wiped away the glistening tears gathering at the edges of his vision, dark eyes roaming the letter over and over again as the claws over his heart seemed to tighten. Having just gone through another meeting with his father, Dion was left distraught and feeling low. He didn't mean to save the letter to read until night, but he was rather glad he did. The sweet, saccharine words were like a salve to his aching heart.
Dion no longer found himself drowning in self-doubt over receiving such kind and unabashed affections, but instead quickly slipping into the overwhelming sense of dread about falling for someone whom he doesn't even know. It gave a rush like a drug, but the weight of it all was terrifying. The mysterious letter writer could be a stinking old pervert for all Dion knew... and yet, in his mind, all he could picture is a smile as gentle as the words on paper, of steady, strong hands looping cursive intricately, touch soft and warm as a phoenix's down.
The blond man was not one known for his unshakable patience, yet in the wake of this shy writer, Dion found himself willing to wait a lifetime to find out who it is. Really, since the first letter, his desires for anyone else had been squashed entirely. His mystery admirer consumed all thoughts of his mind, day and night, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
---
It was another mundane Friday and Dion felt his attention span slip away in the mess hall as Barnabas and Harbard argued for the 48th time that week (Dion counted when he was in their presence. How did they even find so many topics to argue about?).
"How do you know that horses wouldn't like me?!" Harbard accused, a dainty finger held right in front of Barnabas' nose as the silver haired man stood up angrily. "You act so high and mighty, mister gold spoon, having probably ridden horses since you could fart."
Barnabas rolled his eyes, idly scratching the growing scruff on his face. "You're ridiculous. I know horses wouldn't like you because you're loud, abrasive, and you smell weird."
"I do not smell weird!" Harbard growled, apparently ignorant to the growing attention on the two men (as if this was not a daily feature film available for free viewing at any point). Dion sighed and zoned out again, the Waloeder's gradually mounting volumes a background buzz to his stagnant thoughts.
He was interrupted violently when a woman with short brown hair waved a hand in front of his face, looking annoyed. Her dark gaze gave him an unimpressed once over before she held out a letter to him, giving him no time to process. "Take it. Don't leave them hanging either, or I'll break your legs."
Dion looked up into her eyes in pure confusion, tentatively taking the letter. She scowled at him for another second then swept away before the blond could ask her name. He gaped after her for a second, honey gaze quickly slipping to the letter in his hand.
Barnabas and Harbard, aware to a fault, paused their silly segment to crowd over his shoulders, peeking at the still closed letter. "Oooh!" Harbard crooned, his silver braid brushing Dion's cheek. "Open it, open it! Wow, they even got someone to deliver it to keep anonymous! How intriguing!"
The dark haired man leaning over Dion's right shoulder made an affirming sound, pulling to stand up straight. "Not just anyone either, that was Jote. Her circle is infamously small. Only person that I've ever seen her with is Midadol."
"Ah," Harbard purred, standing up and putting his hands on his hips, head tilted in thought, "Aren't they dating? I always found them an odd pair but I can see how it can work..."
Barnabas and Harbard's sudden deliberation on who's dating who fell on deaf ears as Dion's heart pounded, drowning out all the sounds. With shaking hands he unfolded the letter, eyes roaming the sparse, gentle cursive.
My infatuation, Dion Lesage,
I want to know every corner of your being. I want to know what makes you cry, what makes you laugh, what makes you feel like nothing is better than the moment you're living in right then. I'd burn rivers and rebirth ash to flame, crack the skies open and expose the cosmos, just to have the key to the angel known as Dion Lesage.
In order to have my chance, I must tell you who I am. I am ready, and I can only hope you are too. Please, if you shall have me, let us spend a sunset together today, overlooking the local river. There's a hillpoint with the best view. You can't miss it.
I hope you shall be there as the sun begins to set.
Dion's eyes scanned the letter over and over again, not quite believing that finally he was being granted the opportunity to meet his mysterious writer. Anxiety washed over him like a blanket immediately, all the weird scenarios running through his mind at quadruple speed.
Harbard reached over the blond and snatched the letter unapologetically, wrenching Dion forcefully out of his dreary thoughts. He weakly protested and stood up to grab at it but Harbard was slippery and fast, looking like the cat that ate the canary as his blue eyes scanned the letter.
"Oh, ha, I see, I see." Harbard waved the letter freely, holding it back out to Dion who grabbed it carefully. The silver haired boy propped a hand on his hip. "Barnabas, I'm afraid Dion's going to end up in a relationship before either of us. Never thought I'd be in such a scenario, I must admit."
Barnabas threw Harbard a baffled look, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "Wait, I thought we were dating."
Harbard froze like a statue, blue eyes blowing out wide, small mouth wide open. "I- wha-"
For once, Dion was grateful for the Waloeder's antics. His anxiety melted away as his honey gaze flickered between the two, a boisterous laugh bubbling in his throat and escaping. The blond doubled over with a laugh, prompting the immediate anger of the two Waloeders, who were all too glad to focus their swirling emotions on something else.
---
Dion was, admittedly, early. An hour early. He was simply too excited for the events, practically jittering in place, and he immediately sent out when it was a somewhat reasonable time. His phone was blasted with encouraging messages from Barnabas and Harbard, the duo almost as interested in who it was as Dion was. They, of course, would never admit such, citing that they were 'excited to see him not lovesick and dazed'.
Dion fiddled with the small bouquet of wyvern tails and golden phoenix lotuses as he walked up the hill, the sun slowly dipping towards the horizon casting a golden glow on the man. A cool breeze tostled his hair and his blue button-up, going unnoticed by Dion as his heart pounded in his chest.
Upon cresting the hill, Dion was well prepared to wait for hours, having been too early. But he instead found he was not the one to arrive first.
A hooded figure stood on the edge of the hill overlooking the tumbling river, the black hoodie contrasting with the bright red phoenix wings printed on the back. They wore tight red pants, matching the wings. Dion, in a daze, realized that they were quite tall, definitely around his own height. They were skinny, lanky in a way that was unmistakable.
Dion knew them. Dion knew him. His fingers tightened around the flowers to make sure he wouldn't drop them in shock, calling out in a shaky voice.
"Joshua?"
The hooded head turned and crystalline blue met honey brown.