Work Text:
Furina thinks that it isn’t possible for ‘I Love Yous’ to be saturated.
But ever since Neuvilette started saying it, she decides otherwise.
Furina is inclined to believe her uneasiness is justified. After all, romance is deeply intertwined with Fontaine’s culture; memories of its junctions would echo the same three words: I love you. It only seemed logical that, to Neuvilette who has seen the concept withstand for hundreds of years, it was easy pretense.
(And she admits— it’s a petty afterthought. But, for whatever reason, it continued to materialize.)
Because how could Neuvilette even love her? She was a weak fighter, she was an incompetent archon, everyone would cease to dissipate into water excluding her, and she can’t stop it, she couldn’t stop anything— and- and in the many years they have spent together, why only now, when she is at her lowest, has he vowed his affection to her?
Furina assumes then that his words of devotion were simply meaningless cues born of pity.
And she wouldn’t take it. No. Furina is prideful. She is an archon. This is the smallest thing that could ever occur in her life and she would overcome it easily. It’s just Neuvilette, it’s always been him. She knows him like the back of her hand.
Yet his glare pierces through her the same way it did the first time they met. It always does.
“Is something wrong, Lady Furina? You’ve been scrutinizing me for a while now.”
Furina blinks profusely, looking away in haste, “Nothing to be scared of. I was just… memorizing your features!”
Neuvilette nods.
He is a gentle sea. She is a whirlpool. Such is their dynamic— she is a mess, and he keeps her grounded. She works too hard, he offers her a hand. He works too hard, she drags her out his office and demands to watch an opera. Always something to offer to each other, always some boundary she’s fated to overstep. She is a nuisance, she’s aware.
It hurts to look at him again, so she doesn’t.
“Monsieur Neuvilette, it’s quite fine if you don’t love me.”
Furina doesn’t look. She’s afraid. His silence remains his hesitation, and she wants to cry.
His gloved hand brushes against her knee, stays there until she looks up at his face.
“Is it still fine if I do?”
Furina furrows her brows, “Of course, it is. But you don’t have to pretend.” she can feel heat boiling in her throat, and she curses human anatomy still being embedded in her physical form, “I admit, I am a bit unstable-“
“A bit?”
Furina gives him a warning glare, “-But I can handle my loneliness. I don’t need your affection. I’m perfectly fine by myself, Monsieur!”
She attempts to lace it altogether with a confident smile.
“I want to give you my affection,” Neuvilette withdraws his touch, Furina holds her breath, “But if you are uncomfortable, then I can cease it. The way I feel is something I’ll have more trouble in shifting, but it will suffice.”
“Meaning?”
“I love you, regardless.”
Furina’s lips tug themselves into a grimace, “You lie.”
Neuvilette raises a brow, “Are you perhaps doubting me?”
Furina scoffs, “You don’t! Stop lying to me!”
It’s immature. Furina doesn’t know why it was hard to believe. Why is it that she could easily accept the worship and admiration of many, and yet deny that who she loved the most? It was a laughable contradiction, maybe she lived for the irony.
It was easy to believe Neuvilette was desperate for her, and yet it was easier to think otherwise.
“Furina, I do love you.”
Furina wants to be strong. Furina wants to stop the conversation and believe him just then— but as tears pool to the corner of her eyes and her toes clench beneath her, something within her bursts.
“How has it been that you only love me now?! Why not then?!” Furina’s query turns to a loud whine; she feels none less than absolutely pathetic, “You say it everyday. Every single day. How can you never get tired of me?! How many plays did it take for you to think that THAT would appease me?!” hot tears start to stream down her face, she feels her throat dry up, she hates herself at the moment— all her in her impulsive and immature glory, “Just hate me! Just hate me! This is just the dramas we watched. I hate you!”
“Why would I lie to you?”
Furina yells, “Just now?! NOW?!”
“Lady Furina, please calm down…”
She tries to cease her crying, but only a dribble of snot trickles down her nose. She uses her hands to profusely rub it, and Neuvilette comes closer to her to rub her face with a handkerchief.
“I love you, Lady Furina. Please stop crying for me.”
Tears continuously stream down her face— whether it’s shame or pure sadness, she couldn’t quite tell. She just cries.
“I’ve loved you the day we met, and I want to spend every waking day with you.” Neuvilette comes closer, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, his handkerchief cleans her cheeks, and Furina melts, “If the world ends, I want to be able to enjoy everyday until then succumbing into you. And I never really thought I could lose you, so I never tried, and it was foolish.”
His gloved hands stay on her cheeks, his thumb prying away her tears, “Have you ever wondered why, in a hundred years, I’ve only ever chosen to be with you?“
She doesn’t skip a beat, “Out of obligation?”
“You underestimate how human I can be, Lady Furina.”
He kisses her forehead, Furina holds back a whimper, “I love you.” Neuvilette whispers, so tenderly he convinces Furina it’s true, “I love you.”
She parts her lips to refute, and yet the space between them slots perfectly against his own. She hitches her breath, and in between the pause, he whispers, again, “May I kiss you?”
She indulges him.
It’s a peck on the lips, feather light, but it sends Furina into a spiral.
Her heart aches, there’s a pit in her stomach, her palms are clammy, and she can barely breath. She crosses her legs, clings to her seat, anything to stay present in this moment, anything to become something to him, anything to be a tangible voice that yelled she loved him too.
Two inches apart, she finally makes a sound.
“Are you-“ she cuts herself off, coughing twice to remove the anxiety in her throat. Again, with her chin-up arrogance, “I can tell you’re very sure. So I’ll accept it.”
Her throat is still dry, but she doesn’t mind. She feels more human at that moment.
“I’m sure everyday. I wouldn’t lie.” Neuvilette backs away, a gentle smile graces his oh-so-strangely-handsome face, “How many times do I tell you I love you before you believe me, Lady Furina?”
A light blush flashes across her face, “Of course, I appreciate your devotion, Monsieur Neuvilette. But words lose meaning when one repeats it so frequently, does it not?”
He cranes his head, “Can’t it be that I just love you more each day?”