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Wriothesley's hair looks terribly fluffy sometimes. When Lumine sees him sipping tea with Sigewinne by his side, her fingers fidget with the need to card through it. Not that she would.
It had also struck her through every single meeting they'd had. His outfit is terribly distracting. The black fur, the chains that don't seem to serve any function, the Leather Boots. Lumine is understandably fixated on the leather boots, partly because it's kind of funny that they're platform boots. Like he needs the extra inches to look intimidating.
There's also. Well.
Lumine isn't blind, okay? Wriothesley wears many layers, but they are also very TIGHT. Now, not to say she's had fantasies of cupping that fantastic ass (she has) or that she was left speechless when he stood by her side and she could clearly see, from his profile, how fucking big his pecs are (he could wear her bra if he wanted to, what the fuck) but... wait, what was her point?
Anyway, Lumine really wants to touch Wriothesley. And she's a weird motherfucker, so it's not like she's horny, like any other normal piece of shit would be, oh no. She wants to pet him. She wants to run her hands up his vest and work out the knots in his shoulders. Wants to caress each and every scar and watch him tense up, waiting for her to pry, and then relax when she moves on. Wants to massage his stupid handsome face, and look in his breathtaking fucking eyes, and kiss is archons blasted nose that was sculpted by the gods themselves.
How can a man, scarred and probably traumatized (because when is a vision user not dealing with PTSD?) and also tough and rough, be so.... so.... pretty and funny and LIBERATING to be with? The worst thing about Wriothesley isn't anything she just mentioned. Not his tits and ass, not his questionable fashion choices, not his salt and pepper hair, and not even his unjustifiably sexy scars. It's that he makes Lumine laugh.
Yes, his voice is the most dangerous part about him (bar perhaps his fists.) Higher tone than she'd expected coming out of his mouth when she saw him, but also lower than than it appears at first. There's this... rasp to it, almost a drawl, that's downright hypnotizing. And he must know that, or he wouldn't control his pitch so effectively. That "ah, Miss Clorinde... my door" nearly made Lumine lose her shit laughing. Let her remind you, her and Lyney had their nerves frayed because they thought his siblings were about to be fish feed, and the man playing the villain nearly made her LAUGH with something that doesn't even pass as a joke.
That's a statement to how powerful his voice is. And he uses it for random bullshit. 40% of what he says is "tea" and Lumine is fucked.
"I... see," Neuvillette blinks at her in disbelief over his glass- oh, pardon me, chalice of water. He's bewildered by her rant, and- well, she WOULD feel bad, but he made the mistake of asking her what was troubling her and it was all downhill from there.
"And you... that is to say, there's a concern that he would object to you voicing such thoughts out loud?"
Lumine looks at him. Really looks at him, and Neuvillette seems to shrink under her gaze. Okay, she feels a little bad for that, is she glaring? Stretching her back, she sighs deeply, "your Honour, if I had to voice such thoughts to him, I assure you. I would spontaneously combust on the spot, a mere water stain in Fontaine's history books, and you would never see me again."
Neuvillette forrows his brows thoughtfully at that, "well, that would not be good. I quite enjoy your company, Miss Lumine."
Lumine's hands fly to her chest with a pained sound. She can't with this guy. He's way too fucking precious. He also stands to attention at her action, leaping to his feet, and she's weak.
She raises her hand, signaling him to sit down. When she looks back up, he's like a puppy at the heel of his master. Criminally adorable fucker.
"Neuvillette, when you say stuff like that... well, I don't think you realize what a hazard it is to my heart."
He blinks quickly at that - again, lock him up, this shouldn't be allowed, "my apologies. Is it some sort of condition, or..?"
She can't help but chuckle at that, taking up her own chalice and drinking deeply, "yes, it's called the chief justice is so unexpectedly cute that it makes my heart melt-ite. It's an acute disease, I fear."
"Forgive me, did you say it melts? I will call for a doctor-" oh, great, now she'll have to wrestle the phone out of his hands. Just what she needed.
And that's how his secretary (was her name Sedene? It's not Liath, right?) Found them basically fist fighting over his desk, but she digresses. With her help, the situation deescalates -but not before she also misunderstands the turn of phrase.
"Ahh... that makes sense. With the current situation, it's only natural that Monsieur Neuvillette would panic. Please, avoid using this turn of phrase next time, Miss Lumine."
"Right, thanks, sorry," she watches, absolutely drained, as she waddles away. Cute. Neuvillette clears his mouth, still embarrassed, "Miss Lumine, I fear I still don't fully understand what you meant when you said that. Why use that term at all?"
"Well," Lumine could just say it's the norm and call it a day, she's not his preceptor, but oh well, "Neuvillette, what do you feel when the Melusines are around you?"
"Pardon?"
"Don't you feel a great warmth?," she hugs her chest, "or like your heart is so full that it'll burst?"
"I'm not certain what you-"
"Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette! There's a letter for you!"
The two sit quietly as Sedene lets herself back into the room, and puts an envelope on his desk. Lumine respectfully looks away as Neuvillette opens it, though it smells familiarly foul-
She hears him take a sharp instake of breath, and sees him clutching his chest like he's in pain, his eyes closed. Lumine gets up and circles his desk, an inkling of what might be on the page.
It's a drawing of two Melusines and Neuvillette. The crayon is garish to the point of being grotesque, and yet, there's an inherent charm to it.
"I see..." Neuvillette says meaningfully, slipping it back in it's envelope and slipping it in a desk drawer that is already chock full of similiar envelopes. Lumine smiles.
"Your honour, I'll bring you something to store those better next time."
"There's no need," he says simply, but she would bet good mora that he's already looking forward to it.