Chapter Text
“Mr. Lyney, you shouldn’t have.”
The mirth in Wriothesley’s eyes made Lyney’s ears twitch back, eyes narrowing.
“What are you talking about, Your Grace?”
“The rose,” Wriothesley replied easily, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve always been more partial to lavender myself, though I appreciate the gesture regardless.”
Lyney glanced down at the flower he held in one gloved hand, half-forgotten as he’d rushed to meet the Duke and a few Fontainian officials. A gift from some admirer or other as he’d slipped out the stagedoor after a matinee. It was a common enough occurrence, given his profession.
“Oh, of course,” he said, cocking his head in faux-thoughtfulness. “You know what rainbow roses signify, don’t you? Passion, romance…unfortunately, traditionally they’re gifted to people on the…prettier side of things.” He let his eyes rake over Wriothesley’s broad form, eyebrow raised pointedly, and then made the rose disappear with a flick of his wrist, laughing at the look on Wriothesley’s face.
“You know, if the roses are awarded based on beauty, your admirer really ought to have brought a bouquet,” Wriothesley said, something like a smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at Lyney.
Lyney felt himself flush, steadfastly ignoring the way the larger man’s muscles flexed beneath the taut fabric of his shirt as he crossed his arms.
“You think you’re awfully charming, don’t you?” He scoffed.
The other officials arrived just then, cutting off whatever (no doubt witty) retort the Duke had prepared. Lyney took a seat far from Wriothesley, observing the proceedings carefully and only speaking once or twice to subtly shift decisions in favor of preserving certain Fatui resources. He could feel Wriothesley’s eyes on him, though, conscious of the fact that his careful maneuvering didn’t go unnoticed, even if the Duke allowed it. At one point, toward the end of the meeting, lavender eyes flicked up to meet ice blue, and he watched Wriothesley blink in surprise, flushing slightly and stuttering before he turned away to address the harbormaster’s concerns about some aspect of rebuilding.
Interesting. It didn’t mean much, really - few people were immune to Lyney’s charms, at least superficially. He knew the effect he had, played into the way his body and attention could distract and disarm. But it was odd that someone as smart as Wriothesley would be affected, even for a moment. He must be off his game.
The meeting ended some time later and Lyney hung back a beat, waiting for Wriothesley to turn and shake someone’s hand before he passed by his desk, slipping out the door without a word.
He left too quickly to see Wriothesley’s reaction, the older man biting back a grin as he picked up the single, half-wilted rose that sat atop a stack of unfinished paperwork. There was a classified report missing from the stack, which he noticed immediately; but he couldn’t bring himself to care much as he filled a tall glass with water and set the flower on his desk.
