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As close as the Chief Justice and the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide were with one another, they hardly ever met outside of official business. Hence, they both make it a practice to outline specific administrative agenda before requesting the other's presence. If the other party ever senses that it's simply an excuse to have idle chit-chat over tea and water, well…neither of them go out of their way to point it out. However, it's one thing to allow a professional meeting to devolve into casual conversation naturally, but it's a whole other thing to conjure up a misleading meeting plan as a pretense for some far out hidden agenda. This concern weighed heavily on Neuvillette, but in a rare instance, he prioritized his previously unnamed feelings over his sense of propriety.
"Wriothesley, please forgive me for wasting your time," he told himself as he sealed an envelope containing the letter of invitation he planned to send to the Fortress of Meropide.
~~~
"Did you summon me solely to sing praises for the new price list I came up with? I honestly thought you'd have a lot more questions."
Maybe Wriothesley shouldn't have said that, seeing how the sparkles in Neuvillette's eyes died instantly.
"If you want, we can discuss a potential budget increase for you with your latest contributions to Fontaine society in mind. Who knows how many more Wingalets you could commercialize?"
"Huh…if that's the case, why don't we just discuss it after I draft the proposal? You'll need a lot of time to prepare for how demanding I'll be."
Just as expected. Neuvillette knew the conversation would come to a halt once he invokes a topic that the duke is not prepared to report on yet, due to his incredible meticulousness which goes underappreciated by many. (And for the record, he thinks Wriothesley is only as demanding as he should be, with all his bold requests still being fully reasonable and sound.)
"No worries. I'll be looking forward to it. In the meantime, there's a personal matter that I've been meaning to confide in you for the past few weeks. Now, if you will excuse me."
Neuvillette was overtaken by a wave of both nervousness and excitement for what he was about to do next. He stood up from his designated seat and carefully walked over to the small couch for guests where the warden was seated, and plopped down beside him. He'd been harboring the desire to feel their thighs and knees touch ever so slightly, along with feeling the refreshing coolness emitted by the cryo vision wielder. If only his judicial robes didn't have protruding structures from the shoulder area, then even their shoulders could have brushed against each other. What a shame. But one should not be mistaken in thinking that Neuvillette chose to relocate entirely for the sake of getting physically close to Wriothesley. An important consideration is emotional closeness, especially for the conversation he's about to start–closing the distance between two people is simply a way to communicate one's intentions more clearly, or so he's learned from observing the way humans behave.
Wriothesley may have been equally thrilled to finally have those long, slender, elegant legs brush against his own, bringing about a tingling sensation at those points of contact and making his heart skip a beat, but such a silly little pleasure wouldn't distract him from ensuring that all of Neuvillette's personal and professional boundaries are respected. Thus, he decided to move further to his left so that he was pressing closely against the armrest already. He didn't expect the judge to notice his adjustment and scoot over to him, practically squishing him into a corner. Huh, maybe the physical contact was intended after all.
Neuvillette took a deep breath before saying something seemingly inconsequential.
"To begin, I wish to admit that I deeply regret cutting short our meetings such as when I visited your office to address the death threat sent to Kiara and when I briefed you about the new changes to the judicial system after we averted the nation's crisis."
"Don't dwell on it too much. It's not like you missed out on anything important–the blend of tea I would have served you is something I sent to your office three months ago, and as for our conversation, I probably would've talked your ears off about some random feature article I read that week. It's understandable that you'd want to make better use of your time."
"Oh. You make it sound as if I view visiting you as an inconvenience to myself. That cannot be further from the truth. I always look forward to entering the duke's office and my sense of anticipation only builds up further and further with each step I take ascending the stairs leading to your desk, then I am finally rewarded with the sight of your beautiful face and the sound of your charming voice delivering a warm greeting. If my choices were purely governed by selfish desires, I would not hesitate to schedule 96-hour meetings with you every single week. That's probably why I made it a point to visit you after Fontaine's flooding even though I could only spare you less than an hour of my time."
If one were to take Neuvillette's words at face value, they'd easily come across as some kind of confession of romantic feelings. Yet because it is the ever impartial iudex himself uttering these words, Wriothesley can only assume that there's a different intention behind them. Guilt, perhaps? But why overcompensate for it to such an extent? The flattery is beyond necessary–like 96 hours, really? Even if Neuvillette's physical constitution allowed him to miss sleep, he'd most likely be sick of Wriothesley's "beautiful" face and "charming" voice after a four day long meeting.
"Alright, alright. Of course I know you enjoy my company to some extent. I just meant to say that I don't mind you leaving early. I've never taken issue with it before, so what's behind this new concern of yours?"
This entire time, Neuvillette had his gaze turned towards his hands folded on top of his lap, but the duke's statement made him quickly snap his head to face the person he was talking to, and his eyes seemed to narrow in scrutiny.
"You misunderstand. I'm not attempting to apologize. I wish to share with you some insights I gained from that conversation we had in your office after that inmate Domenico was placed under solitary detention. It's been a while but I wish to revisit it."
"Ah, so you want to continue that conversation? Was that the one about your everlasting impact on Fontaine?"
Upon hearing this, Neuvillette turned back to staring at his lap and his fingers started tapping restlessly.
"Yes. Since you kept on insisting that I am no longer an outsider, I started to gain a heightened awareness of my own…human-like emotions. Am I correct in inferring that you believe I am capable of feeling such things?"
To most Fontainians, including Neuvillette himself, it makes perfect sense to ask such a question as a result of how he presents himself in public. Wriothesley, however, is someone who has had that query answered before he could even ask it–the iudex's silence and the obvious hurt brewing in his otherwise intimidating gaze as the young pugilist confessed to his crimes were key pieces of evidence pointing towards the existence of Neuvillette's hidden emotions. Thus, the notion of a stiff and apathetic Neuvillette is completely absurd to him.
"Does it matter what I think? You already know for a fact that your emotions run quite deep," he replied with a tone of fond reassurance.
"I see. If that's the case, then I would like to share with you something I have been experiencing recently or rather, not so recently if the bigger picture is accounted for. Well, regardless…"
The prison's manager was trying to recall what exactly he'd done that made the ever stoic and eloquent chief justice so flustered. Hopefully, this nervousness wasn't attributed to him directly. Although, if in case it was, he'd be ready to apologize anyway.
"Relax, Neuvillette. Whatever it is, we can discuss it reasonably."
"My mind can't stop replaying the scene of you praising me on behalf of Fontaine's people–how you referred to me as the symbol of the law, how you lauded me for always making the right judgment despite you…well, you know what I mean, and how you gave me credit for transforming the nation over time. It all felt so overwhelming. In fact, the feeling never seems to subside."
Ah, who would've known this is what Wriothesley would be needing to apologize for, except he won't do that. He can't be disingenuous and retract something he fully meant.
"I understand what you mean but it wasn't my intention to make you feel uncomfortable. Everything I said is factual. If you're worried about me flattering you, you can simply ask someone else for their opinion, but you'll probably get flustered hearing the exact same words of praise coming from them. I can guarantee you, my opinion is shared by the vast majority of Fontainians–97%, give or take."
Neuvillette seemed to squeeze his hands together even more tightly.
"That's exactly the point I was trying to make before you inserted yourself."
"Oh, I didn't realize you weren't done speaking. I'm so–"
"There's no need to apologize. I keep having to pause to compose my statements properly in the midst of my incredibly cluttered thoughts. For now, what I will say is this: While I suppose you are correct in suggesting that almost every citizen of Fontaine will likely praise me in the exact same manner, I will nonetheless prefer to hear it from you above anyone else. Compliments from you mean so much to me. How could I not feel overwhelmed when receiving your praise is the equivalent of being crowned with golden laurels? How could I remain unaffected when a desire I didn't know I possessed had been fulfilled?"
This time, Wriothesley knew not to interject despite the awkward silence and his brewing impatience. He didn't mind that Neuvillette was taking his time to express himself because responsible speech is always a sign of good etiquette and a strong grasp of social situations. The problem was that each word that came out of Neuvillette's mouth so far had been torturous, continuing to delude the poor warden into believing that the symbol of justice himself was beginning to reciprocate his feelings. But that's impossible, so he was left on edge, waiting for the iudex to clarify his statements and break his heart once and for all. He knew the pain was inevitable, so all he could do was silently beg for Neuvillette to cut to the chase to avoid prolonging his agony.
"Upon further examination, I believe this feeling is not a standalone occurrence but rather, it seems to be one of many interconnected experiences. For instance, I tend to read your letters to me first thing in the morning and compose my responses to you after all my work has been completed so that my day would be bookended by pleasant feelings. Whenever I drink the tea you send to my office, I always wonder if by any chance, you are indulging in the same pleasure all the way down in the fortress. Every time I hear your name mentioned by a Palais Mermonia staff or any random passerby, I gain an inclination to eavesdrop on their conversations in anticipation of hearing praise for you. I must also admit that it takes me three months to plan for the perfect birthday present to give you, and you know already that I typically send more than one item on the occasion. And your sweet smiles–from barely noticeable smirks to wide grins–when I picture them in my mind, it feels as if rainbow roses are blooming in my heart."
After Neuvillette finished his little spiel, he turned his gaze to the person beside him and gathered up as much courage as possible to look him straight in the eye. His pupils were dilated, in awe of those icy indigo eyes before him. Wriothesley barely understood why the person he'd been admiring for several years was so particularly fixated on that feature of his considering how plain his own irises look, but he couldn't resist the silent plea behind those precious gem-like eyes, asking for permission to continue to indulge in staring.
At this point, someone as perceptive as the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide would be a fool to miss out on the implications of Neuvillette's recent statements. Interpreting them as anything but an admission of romantic feelings would be utterly delusional–which is surreal considering he'd previously believed that hoping for his long-time crush to return his feelings was delusional and he kept on cursing himself for gradually developing such an intense yet unattainable desire. The iudex of all people, really? How could he ever deserve the privilege of receiving the affection of the most important individual in Fontaine now that their archon had given up her divinity? Well, he still really is undeserving of such a thing but nonetheless, Neuvillette seemed generous enough to grant him that secret wish.
"With all the evidence I've gathered, I have no choice but to arrive at the only correct conclusion. From the looks of it, I can tell that you finally understand the point I am trying to make. However, let me make this very clear, without room for any alternative interpretation: I am deeply in love with you, Wriothesley."
Although Wriothesley wielded a cryo vision, he was the one who seemingly froze in place after hearing Neuvillette's firm and confident declaration of love for him. Or even worse, he felt like an ousia-powered gardemek forced into a helpless state by an annihilation reaction resulting from a pneuma attack. And yes–he did just compare receiving a confession from the love of his life to being hit by a pneuma attack. How should he even respond to such a comment? If he were to attempt honesty, he'd say…
"So what prompted this?"
Oh no, he said it out loud, didn't he? What ever happened to his sense of propriety? Well, at this point perhaps, the judge would finally be brought back to his senses and retract his statement so they could go back to normal with only him pining over Monsieur Neuvillette as it should be.
Instead, Neuvillette doubled down.
"I will gladly explain. It's no secret that you are the single most responsible, skilled, and efficient administrator the Fortress of Meropide has ever had and each one of our dealings has never failed to put me at ease, but I initially thought of you as only that–a competent colleague. However, I realized that even after I put an incredible amount of effort into unearthing your records and compiling your merits to present a strong case to justify bestowing the title of duke upon you, these details were never enough to satisfy my curiosity about you. Criminals who turn out to be kind aren't unheard of, but I had yet to encounter someone who was not only compassionate and helpful but also a visionary with such a clear view of the world that could surpass even mine in some instances, someone who possessed the power to influence a great many people aided only by the strength of their will. And not to mention, there is no shortage of Fontainians attempting to befriend and flatter me, whose true motivations are indiscernible for me yet with you, I was always under the impression that your words were completely genuine and carried no ulterior motive so it became very easy for me to discuss both important and lighthearted matters with you. While others attempted to become closer to me, it was I who always sought to approach you instead. As much as records can attest to your flawless conduct as an administrator and the purity of your character, reading them always pales in comparison to being in your presence and conversing with you. Nearly all questions I had about you were met with such pleasing answers that warmed my heart and even the uncomfortable details of your past stirred my feelings of sympathy deeply. When my feelings grew rather intense because of you, it was only a matter of time before they started to take on a romantic nature. It was a gradual process so please forgive me for not being able to determine the exact moment in time when I realized this, although our recent conversations in your office gave me a renewed sense of conviction about my feelings for you. My explanation is far from perfect, but I hope you accept it. By that, I mean I do not expect any form of reciprocation from you. I simply wish for you to acknowledge that my feelings for you are true. Please believe everything I say, that's all I ask. The reason why I am telling you all of this is because I believe I owe you my honesty at the very least in exchange for all the encouragement you've given me."
"Neuvillette, you know I would never ever doubt your word. The fact in and of itself just seems very difficult for me to believe. Believing in the prophecy about Fontaine's fall has proven to be far easier than believing that the iudex himself would profess his love for someone like me."
The judge's shoulders visibly tensed up, appearing as if he was admitting to guilt. A major motivation behind him confessing to Wriothesley was to make him understand just how precious and beloved he is despite him seemingly believing otherwise. It was a shame to find out that his supposedly sweet words only managed to reinforce the duke's self-doubt. Well, Neuvillette probably deserved this reaction. He hadn't been a great romantic prospect anyway.
"I understand your sentiment very well. The prophecy was believable because you started to notice undeniable signs that proved its existence. Meanwhile, I failed to properly showcase my love for you, which is why my confession came as a surprise. I sincerely apologize for my oversight."
Impulsively, Wriothesley might have agreed to Neuvillette's assessment of the situation but as soon as he started recalling important interactions between them, he realized this was far from the case.
~~~
Over a meeting about reducing the amount of red tape in processes shared by the Palais Mermonia and the Fortress of Meropide, Neuvillette seemed to perk up all of a sudden and excused himself from his seat, rushing quickly out of the door. He then came back holding a round tin canister and opened it to reveal tea bags contained in it, separated into eight categories.
"How would you like your tea this time?"
For some reason, Wriothesley thought of messing with Neuvillette as a way to discourage him from going out of his way next time. Of course he does love tea to such an abnormal extent, but the idea of inconveniencing the iudex bothered him.
"If it's masala tea, you need to steep it in milk and I'd prefer two teaspoons of refined sugar. However, as for gyokuro, I prefer a cold brew. If you're gonna serve me Earl Grey, might as well add citrus peels and lemongrass to it while you're at it. And if it's lotus tea, don't do anything fancy at all. I could go on, actually."
He initially hoped that Neuvillette would close the tin can, scold him, or direct him to some lowly staff. Yet for some reason he said,
"I will take note of these guidelines. Please take your pick and give me detailed instructions for the preparation. I hope you choose only one kind of tea today so I won't make any mistakes in the preparation process."
Wait, what? Did he catch that correctly?
"Huh, you're doing it yourself? I was just joking. I'm not that particular about the way my tea is prepared. It was clearly an exaggeration."
"Oh, I see. Well, regardless, I'd love to serve you as my way of extending my gratitude to you. Please don't feel embarrassed. I bought these for you exclusively. I also have stock of imported water all over Teyvat, so I can steep your chosen tea in water from its nation of origin."
Wow, was he really this pleased about purchasing an incredibly expensive tea set for only one person? Well, it seemed to be the case seeing how he was smiling so sweetly, his eyes glimmering with anticipation. How could Wriothesley refuse now?
"Alright. I'll have the lotus tea, then."
"One tea bag only?"
"... I suppose you can steep two tea bags in twice the amount of water then serve it in a teapot. Thank you, by the way. You didn't really need to go out of your way."
"It's my pleasure," Neuvillette responded with a fond smile.
————
In the past year, Sigewinne was wrapping gifts for Neuvillette, Clorinde, Chevreuse, Navia, and other acquaintances for one of Fontaine's national holidays and Wriothesley closely took note of her preparations, even making some suggestions.
"Tsk tsk, have some of your patients taught you to adopt a gender bias? You've packed cosmetics and perfume for all the women and none for Neuvillette even though you know he uses them," he remarked teasingly.
"But Your Grace, I don't want to give him new lipstick and perfume when he hasn't finished his old stash yet!" the head nurse clarified.
"I know, I know. I was just kidding."
"Wait…if I may ask, Your Grace, how do you know of Monsieur Neuvillette's collection of cosmetics? He doesn't use those products in public."
"Well, obviously, I've seen him use them whenever we hold our one-on-one meetings in his office. His lips appear bright blue and the entire room always smells of Pluie Lotuses. It's gotten to the point that walking along the coastline reminds me of him. It's good you picked those out for Neuvillette. They suit him quite well."
Luckily, Sigewinne was sweet and rather innocent enough to not call him out on the fact that he paid an excessive amount of attention to the specific beauty products his crush uses, much like a stalker would (and to ignore the fact that the duke thought the lipstick was blue when it was very clearly yellow). She didn't bother connecting the dots that also completely slipped Wriothesley's mind–which was that the iudex only wore cosmetics around him.
————
Although Wriothesley was madly in love with Neuvillette's glistening eyes, he'd readily admit that oftentimes, they appear rather…creepy? No, intimidating is probably the better word but seriously, when he's fixated on something, the way his stare bores a hole into your soul does feel rather terrifying.
And no, it's far different from the look he has on his face when he's presiding over a trial, which appears as serene as still waters, and his fiery gaze when he delivers his final judgment. When he truly stares at something, his pupils are blown wide and the intervals between his blinks are unusually long. In this state, his thoughts seem indiscernible despite seeming so intent on fixing his gaze on a particular object nonstop and in some sense, it even looks like he's spacing out.
Wriothesley knew this look because he'd caught Neuvillette staring at him multiple times whenever they had their personal meetings. It often takes the iudex a long time to realize he had been staring at his guest despite already being noticed whereas most people would avert their gaze immediately. Meanwhile, Neuvillette only blinks and looks away from Wriothesley once he's called out on it verbally. Many times, the warden hesitates to even mention anything about it because Neuvillette's expression of shame comes across as rather pitiful. However, after so many instances of these, curiosity got the better of him.
"Listen Neuvillette, I don't mind you staring but I've caught you doing this several times so it's natural for me to want to know the reason behind this. I'd rather you tell me straightforwardly than have me guess your concern."
As expected, the person being confronted raised his tension-filled shoulders and let out a slightly shaky breath.
"I qpologize for the misunderstanding. I don't have any problem with you or whatever you're doing at the moment. Truthfully, my staring occurs automatically without me realizing. I can't help myself."
The Chief Justice never lies, but the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide can sometimes tell when he hides part of the truth. But at the end of the day, he realized that he didn't want to prod further.
"Hm, it's alright then. No worries."
~~~
A minute after hearing Neuvillette's apology for not displaying his love so openly, Wriothesley shocked the confessor in question by snickering out of the blue and shaking his head.
"You should be glad I'm neither a detective nor a lawyer because it seems that my investigation skills are worse than I expected."
"Hm? Pardon me, I don't understand what you mean."
The prison administrator took a deep breath and turned his head to lock eyes with the person talking to him.
"Upon recalling some of our past interactions, I can see now that you were consistently dropping hints about your affection for me. It should have been obvious to me but I was either too dense to understand how these pieces of evidence were linked or I kept ignoring the signs subconsciously."
"If that's the case then…is it correct for me to infer that my advances were unwanted?"
Neuvillette sounded so hurt and dejected, as if he could do nothing but accept his cold fate. If Wriothesley wasn't already madly in love with him at this point, he would change his mind immediately and reciprocate readily–not out of pity, but due to being deeply moved by this melancholic beauty. Luckily, he didn't even need to be persuaded anymore.
"Please be honest. I would prefer a sincere rejection far more than a positive response that is only forced as a result of any feelings of guilt," Neuvillette continued.
Huh, he seemed to already discount the possibility of Wriothesley reciprocating his feelings with full honesty. But why would he? Neuvillette is too stiff, serious, and inexpressive. He's too particular, too bland, too overworked, too distanced, too cold. From what he understands about human customs and beliefs, he would be a very unideal partner. He knew already that he'd likely end up being an emotional burden to whoever he becomes romantically involved with hypothetically, and yet he dared to still impose his feelings on an unsuspecting target. Why can't Wriothesley take part of the blame in this? He was far too attractive for even the most impartial figure in Fontaine to resist. Well, not that Neuvillette would pursue that line of thinking beyond a fleeting moment because of how utterly foolish it is.
"Hmmm, since you often ask me about human sentiments, let me put it this way: it's quite common for us to remain oblivious to hints of romantic interest coming from the very people we're attracted to. I mean, it doesn't always happen but it's not such a rare phenomenon. It makes sense if you think about it. When you start viewing the love of your life as a star guiding you from the lofty heavens, you end up believing that they're unreachable–that this radiant star in the sky isn't meant to descend upon you. Simply put, it's hard to believe that someone you love so much would ever reciprocate your feelings when it seems like they're too good for you."
"Oh. I see. Thank you for informing me, however, I feel as though you're stalling before answering my question. I would appreciate your straightforwardness."
Wriothesley sighed frustratedly.
"Don't you see what I'm implying, Neuvillette? That I could hardly believe your words when you were confessing to me just now, exactly because I've loved you so much that I thought my feelings were becoming inappropriate, excessive, or downright unacceptable. That was the natural progression of things, stemming from my long-standing belief that you were a symbol of hope ever since that fateful trial. When I was younger, I used to be easily infatuated with anyone who extended the littlest bit of concern to me. I was obsessed with this one girl who gave me a bandage back then, but it only lasted a week. I believe you were the first person I truly admired for your inherent characteristics. You don't even need to do anything for my sake–your existence alone proves to me that there is always a piercing bright light within a sea of darkness. All this time, loving you felt satisfying and enriching even without your reciprocation. In fact, reciprocation never even crossed my mind, so imagine my surprise when I heard your confession just now. Nothing could've prepared me for that."
Neuvillette let out a pretty little gasp at this. Wow, was he really that surprised that the person he adored would admire him back? The judge should know that he is magnificent enough to have anyone he wants.
"Mmm…is that really how you feel under that tough icy exterior of yours?"
"Heh, it seems like we both equally struggle to believe our feelings are reciprocated. But I understand you're a judge who puts evidence above all else. So, do you require me to prove my love for you, honorable iudex?"
Alright, the chief justice seemed to grow more successful in sensing the hidden intentions behind the duke's words. In this case, he picked up a faint hint of flirtation laced in Wriothesley's proposal of "proving" his love. Just what exactly did it involve? Well, as excited as he was to find out the answer, he first had to make something clear.
"There's no need. Your sweet words of reassurance are proof enough, and I am not inclined to question your sincerity, especially when you go out of your way for my sake. I can't be more grateful. Yet I am still rather curious–what would you have done if I did request proof from you?"
"Naturally, it would depend on what you plan to ask of me. If you wish to give me twelve labor-intensive trials to put my love to the test, who am I to deny? I'm the one seeking your favor."
The chief justice shook his head furiously at the notion.
"I would never do that. I'd hope to make your experience of loving me pleasurable rather than burdensome. Isn't that how it should be?"
Pleasurable…in that case, Wriothesley immediately thought of something. No, was he even allowed to suggest such a thing to the iudex himself–something borderline sacrilegious? Well, considering the many strange things he'd brought up during their official meetings, Neuvillette should be unfazed by his ridiculous ideas. If both of them cringe after he brings it up, then so be it.
"Ah, in that case, if you don't mind how cliché and simplistic this comes across, would you be amenable to kissing?"
Neuvillette remained frozen in place, as if Wriothesley accidentally encased him in cryo using his vision. To him, that made sense. The sheer brazenness of his offer must have been shocking and the ever-polite judge was struggling to quickly think of a way to reject it without sounding offensive. He didn't mind. Honestly, he never took the idea seriously anyway. To ease the person sitting next to him, the duke added,
"I understand your hesitation. In and of itself, it's a weak form of proof since some people don't mind kissing strangers. But as for me, I can't stomach the idea of initiating such a gesture with anyone else aside from you. It doesn't matter whether you accept or refuse–you can at least take my willingness as a sign."
"Please correct me if I'm wrong, but according to popular customs, it seems as though the act of kissing on the lips can arise in various circumstances and carry multiple meanings. For two people who are not in a relationship, a kiss may either be an expression of intense but temporary feelings of passion or a signal to commence courtship. Personally, I am partial to the latter."
Wriothesley couldn't stop himself from letting out a little snicker at that statement. Who in the world would treat Neuvillette like a fling? He of all people deserves nothing less than utmost devotion.
"We're on the same page, Neuvillette. You didn't need to specify. Besides, kissing me won't feel all that great in and of itself if there's no deeper meaning to it. I lack experience with this and I have chapped lips to boot, so be warned."
It was now Neuvillette's turn to crack up, laughing just a little bit louder and longer than he intended. Of course, it's a known fact that he has a strong disdain for anything dry, ranging from fried food to the desert's sand, but Wriothesley's offer was far too irresistible to turn down. Even oceanids used to travel all the way through the desert leading to the Amrita Pool in the Vourukasha Oasis. They would endure the painfully hot and dry atmosphere for the sake of encountering something priceless and he would do the same. And as for inexperience…wasn't he the same anyway? Plus, being an exceptionally special case for the duke was a great compliment to him.
"You're saying that as if it's going to deter me. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to request you to please sit still. And…I apologize in advance for staining your lips with my lipstick."
Thus, Neuvillette carefully placed his hands on Wriothesley's shoulders and slowly inched towards him until their noses were practically touching.
"No, this won't do. How unbecoming of me. In my haste, I nearly forgot to ask: Wriothesley, may I kiss you?"
The warden smiled softly and shook his head.
"You may, obviously. Thanks for obtaining my consent, although I almost thought you weren't going to push through."
Upon getting the go signal, Neuvillette quickly tilted his head and closed the distance between them, letting their lips brush against each other. He then applied a little bit of pressure to give the kiss a stronger sensation beyond just a featherlight peck. They did open their mouths ever so slightly but that's about as far as they went this time. Romantic plays and novels would suggest that their kiss was far too lackluster, with neither of them attempting to savor the other's taste with their tongue and with Wriothesley hesitating to touch Neuvillette in any way out of a fear of crossing some other boundaries. But true romantics would know the true "quality" of a kiss is mostly determined by one's kissing partner above all else.
After they pulled away slowly, Wriothesley started genuinely wondering if his entire life since he supposedly woke up from the hospital as a teen was all a fever dream and he was actually still stuck in a coma. Even that seems more likely than being kissed by the symbol of Fontaine's law itself. How does that even happen?
As for Neuvillette, he considered that perhaps part of the reason why he was born in human form (aside from needing a pure vessel that could manipulate hydro because vishaps had evolved to use cryo and electro instead) was for him to experience this pleasure that was unique to them.
"So, how did it feel for you?" the warden asked in an uncharacteristically sheepish manner.
Neuvillette tucked a few strands of hair behind his right ear.
"Hmmm, I think I would liken the experience to the feeling of my thirst being quenched by drinking a tall glass of cool spring water after five hours of dehydration. How about you? Was it satisfactory enough?"
How does he even begin to describe it? Satisfactory didn't do justice to the sheer amount of passion present in that kiss. Yet other words like breathtaking, mind-blowing, earth-shattering, and other similar adjectives felt empty and trite despite conveying intense positive emotions. If Wriothesley were to be completely honest without worrying about cringing in disgust, he might have admitted that the kiss felt like a sign that his destiny had truly altered–that he was truly pardoned from his sins in every way possible or else the heavens would have never granted him this wish. However, since these sentiments still made him feel ashamed, he decided to mask it using his go-to technique of jesting flirtation.
"Well let me put it this way: if I were addicted to sinthe, I'd readily quit and switch to satisfying my cravings with your kisses instead."
"Hopefully, that's not to say a kiss from me triggers lingering adverse side effects…"
"Of course not, which is why I said it's a much better substitute for–nevermind. I shouldn't have made that joke."
"It's alright. Your wit has always been intriguing to me. Now if you will excuse me, I need to find something to wipe remnants of my lipstick off your lips, unless you want to retain proof of our kiss."
"It's alright. I have a handkerchief."
And so the duke pulls it out of a pocket deep inside his waistcoat and carefully dabs his lips, almost like how an elegant and dainty lady at a formal banquet would.
Meanwhile, Neuvillette can only imagine when the day would come when he can offer to wash stains away with his ancient dragon's authority over hydro. He hopes to come clean about it to the love of his life someday, but that's something he can leave to his future self. After all, he had already overcome his main hurdle, which was to confess his feelings for Wriothesley. He never would have expected to end up with the kind of romantic struggles that typical humans face, yet even the heavy burden of harboring undisclosed feelings seemed like a "happy problem" to him because at last, he was finally able to witness his true emotional range. And now, he's faced with a more pleasant "problem" of figuring out how to court the duke in a way that he deserves.
"To clarify, Neuvillette, is it safe to assume we're dating already? Huh, I never thought I'd utter those words one day."
"Of course. Do you want to have it in writing just like the certifications for your noble title?"
Wriothesley chuckled at the notion while shaking his head.
"No thanks. You do realize we probably have to keep this a secret between us."
"Mhm."
It was at this point that the iudex realized how long their conversation went on that his guest's tea had turned cold. That won't do. And so he picked up the tea connoisseur's little porcelain cup and drank its flat tasting contents instead.
"Oh? You could've approached me for a second kiss instead of going for an indirect one like a teenager would."
"I did it because your tea was getting cold. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to replenish the contents of this teapot."
So he took the teapot, placed it on a tray and walked towards the door until he paused in his tracks.
"I hope that while I'm away, you can think of something to chat about when I get back. I've hogged the conversation for far too long and I miss hearing you talk about whatever you've read lately. We may have undergone a major shift in our relationship just now, but we ought to stay true to our roots, don't you think?”
“Mhm. Thank you for everything, Neuvillette.”
“I should be the one thanking you for your acceptance of me. Anyway, I shall run along now so I can get back sooner.”
As soon as the iudex left his office, Wriothesley manifested a small ice shard with his vision and used it to pierce his left forearm lightly. Obviously, it stung and bled a bit but he was rather pleased by it. He needed that little wound to prove that this wasn't just a long, vivid dream he would eventually wake up from.