Work Text:
March was in the forge, making a new pickaxe for Y/N. He was in the zone, in a realm of total concentration—but then, Olric's voice broke through it.
“You really like Ryis, don’t you, little bro?”
March jumped in surprise and turned around, annoyed. “You almost made me drop the casting mold!” he snapped.
“Sorry!” Olric said with an easygoing laugh. “I was just thinking over some things, and it occurred to me how often I see you hanging out with him. And how happy you look when you’re with him, too. . .”
“What’s your point? Match asked, feeling defensive.
Olric smiled. “I just think it’s sweet, that’s all! It’s good to see you’re making friends with the new guy.”
March nodded, thinking for a moment. He knew he could take Olric's word at face value—as much as he loved his big bro, the guy wasn’t the brightest bulb around. Olric probably had no idea what he really felt about Ryis. How March wanted to be more than just friends with the carpenter. . .
“March? You ok?” Olric asked cheerfully.
March shook his head, returning his focus to his work. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “I’m gonna get back to work.”