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Ayato's voice was mesmorising, Thoma knew that well. To be so close to the young commissioner—serving as his humble housekeeper—Thoma had heard many words of all colours and lengths come from Ayato. Ayato's words painted pictures that varied in composition; his tone hardly wavered, even in private—the years of hardset and towering expectations never leaving him fully. Even when Thoma held his master as he cried, Ayato barely made a noise, merely shaking lightly, yet clinging onto Thoma like his life depended on him.
Thoma was just happy to help. Happy that Ayato seemed to like him, and that he had a stable job and friends and could help Ayato refresh his never ending stock of boba and wealth and information. Ayato was a good boss, knowledgeable of his servant's strengths and weaknesses, and knowing when to make the most subtle changes—a slight hint of venom made others shake—while the sweet sugary undertones seemed to be only for Thoma. Thoma just assumed it was because he knew exactly what sweets Ayato liked.
"Do you expect someone to take advantage of you?" Ayato had asked him, closing the curtain and blowing out the candle. "Advantage?" Thoma repeated—confusion seeping into his voice, his head tilting, looking over to see Ayato's serious expression. "I’d hate to see you doing something you hate," Ayato murmured, voice silky as he strode over to Thoma. "You're simply—" Ayato inhaled slowly, a saccharine smile on his face, "—wonderful," he breathed out, his breath fanning over Thoma's face. Thoma laughed somewhat nervously, before he smiled hesitantly, "You'd be the first one I'd expect, master." Ayato smiled, a smile that was love-struck and scary and made Thoma want to run.
"Good," he whispered, leaning into Thoma's ear. "I’m glad you finally figured it out." Ayato lightly chuckled, leaning back and gently patting Thoma's hair. All Thoma could do was simmer in his thoughts, the faint scent of sakura and mahogany still clinging to him. "Huh," he whispered, finally setting everything into place. "I guess I was right."
Thoma had always assumed Ayato liked him a bit more than the other servants. He was always called to run his master's baths and clean his master's room thoroughly and make sure Ayato's every need and whim was fulfilled. Thoma didn't mind, he never minded housework or making people happy—it made him happy after all—but he just wished Ayato was more forward rather than just leading him along. He was so good for his boss, and yet he felt that he never truly got the recompense he wanted.
Thoma was cleaning Ayato's room, clearing off Ayato's main desk so he could clean it. As if to tease him, a group of papers slipped out of one of Ayato's books, and Thoma picked them up, skimming the contents–merely for the sake of organisation, nothing else. 'Possible Ways To Seduce Thoma', 'Thoma's Favourite Chores', 'Thoma's Least Favourite Chores', 'List Of Threats'. Thoma shoved the papers back in the book, cheeks flushed from what he had read. It was a number of lengthy lists, with many annotations and words crossed out and names and . . .
Perhaps it would be best if Thoma pretended he never saw anything. While this behaviour should be concerning—especially considering other incidents Thoma had with Ayato—it was Ayato. Kamisato Ayato who took years to show the tiniest bits of genuine emotion to his most trusted housekeeper and friend. Ayato who likely has never had a crush, considering his life and wealth and—
"–Thoma, are you done yet?"
Thoma turned around to see none other than Ayato, leaning against the wall. Thoma felt his face heat up, and he attempted to regain his composure. "Ah– no, sorry! I only had to finish wiping your desk, but I kept seeing little specks of dirt, or thinking of when I'll need to clean certain things again. I also was thinking about if the recent shipment we ordered has finally gotten here, and when it'll be ready to pick up." Thoma wasn't as nervous as he thought he'd be, but his voice still wavered, and he knew Ayato would pick up on it.
Ayato hummed, nodding slowly before approaching Thoma. "While I don't doubt that was on your mind before, your thoughts are clearly on other matters at the moment." Ah, Ayato truly was good at seeing through lies, his voice as calm as still water. "Thoma," Ayato's voice was gentle, making Thoma's head spin, "Do you not trust me?" . . . Trust? "I trust you, I really do. The question isn't if I trust you though," Ayato tilted his head, humming thoughtfully. "The question is if you trust me." A glimpse of genuine surprise was seen on Ayato's face, his eyes widening momentarily, only to narrow and flicker away.
"Ayato, you trust me, don't you?" Ayato inhaled sharply, closing his eyes, ". . ." Thoma nodded, eyes growing bleary. Even if he had heard Ayato, no matter what Ayato actually thought of Thoma, it wouldn't matter. Ayato clearly couldn't trust him, and that hurt Thoma more than a sword through his chest.