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It starts when Jamil and Azul get paired together for alchemy. At least, that’s what Jamil is telling himself. He’s hyperaware of Azul’s presence the moment he enters the room, tensing up instinctively. There’s a pep in Azul’s step that makes him basically float across the room and a dumb, dopey grin Jamil’s sure he isn’t even aware of.
Worst of all? He’s giggling.
The type of giggle that he heard come out of Najma this recent spring break, when she was telling their mom to “just give her a sec” while using the phone at dinner. That subtle giggle had filled him with enough dread that he actually nearly dropped his cup mid-sip, but Azul’s caused an entirely different emotion.
He’s less chatty than usual, curt and short with his greetings– probably because if he tried to say a word more than necessary he’d actually start rolling on the floor.
It’s fine. Jamil thinks. It’s annoying but it’s fine.
And then Professor Crewel proceeds to pair the both of them up for today’s lesson. Your expertise will show best with someone at your level, puppies.
Azul barely stifles a giggle again, which is incredibly dangerous, because he’s currently pouring the base for their potion into the beaker perched on the very hot plug-in burner.
He wouldn’t mind having roast octopus, but not at the expense of a hand!
The stress of watching Azul unsteadily pour, still wearing that dopey smile, one would think he’s doing this on purpose to get Jamil to show off, right? And then he’d go into his spiel about how Oh, Jamil, you’d fit oh so well in Octavinelle.
Well, needless to say, it’s working.
“Alright, give me that.” He says, snatching the pipette from the other’s hands before he can add anything more. “You’ve got decent strength in your arms, so why don’t you focus on grinding what we need?”
Azul’s little sugar-crusted daydream ends with Jamil’s salt-coated words. He pushes his glasses back up his nose and clears his throat, perhaps some shame in his eyes. Good. Jamil hopes he’s ashamed.
Then he makes the mistake of bothering.
“You’ve been like this since the beginning of class. What’s with you today?”
Azul nearly drops the pestle in another giggling fit. Are the tips of his ears turning blue?
This time, he doesn’t stop. Instead, he begins to peel away the top layers of his lab jacket, revealing his plain uniform shirt and… tie.
Agony. Despair. All those emotions tenfold, just collapse on Jamil like a pound of treasure from Kalim’s treasure room. Why? Because Azul is going to be impossibly insufferable for the next week, at the least.
Right in the center of Azul’s striped uniform tie is a little golden crown, a heart raised in the center.
“…You like my pin?”
Azul clears his throat, a dozen different ways to redirect the focus off of him while heat crawls over his cheeks. Under his partner’s steely gray eyes, which shine with genuine curiosity, he crumbles easily. He should work on that.
“Is it that obvious?”
“You stare at it a lot.”
Azul hums, still playing nonchalant. “I’m deathly curious about what its function could possibly be. Does it function as a signet ring would? Is it merely for status?”
Riddle appears to ponder the question, holding out the end of his ribbon. The ends were always uneven, due to the simple fact that it was designed to be a tie, and the weight of the pin pulling its end down.
“Signet rings aren’t practical when it comes to a family that practices medicine. My pin is just.. decoration, I believe.”
“Well, it suits you.”
Riddle smiles, eyes narrowing the way they did when he got cocky. “It does, doesn’t it? My outfits never do feel complete without it.”
He continues to hold the pin, rubbing the little raised heart with a thumb. “What about the Coral Sea? Do you wear jewelry?”
“Jewelry isn’t a foreign concept under the sea– it’s one of the few articles of ‘clothing’ it has to offer. Metals, especially with magic, are harder to erode than fabric..”
Precisely, there’s a spiral shell necklace he’s fond of amidst his collection of coins. Modeled after a famous artifact of the Sea Witch’s and reproduced cheaply everywhere for the sake of tourism, it was hardly anything unique.
“But pins and brooches, as you might expect, don’t exist. You may as well wear them as earrings– which, for a long time. while communication with land and sea was low, some wore them on their fins.”
“Hm.”
Azul watches Riddle flip his ribbon over and pull the rubber stopper off, plucking the pin off and revealing a round hole where the fabric was punctured. He doesn’t get the chance to ask what he’s doing before he feels a hand sharply tug him down by his tie, pulling it free from beneath his blazer and vest. His breath hitches, eyes drawn to Riddle’s rose-red lashes and focused expression.
Riddle pulls away, giving Azul’s chest a confident pat.
“Gold suits you.” A smile.
Curious, Azul pulls at his own tie, feeling a weight attached to its end. Riddle’s attached his pin to his tie, right at the center, in between two black stripes
“I trust you’ll return it to me by tomorrow.”
Not a question. Not exactly a demand, not with that smile– so how could one expect Azul not to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from bursting into a most foolish grin? Wasn’t he aware of the blatant implications?
“Oh, you flatter me.”
Riddle’s expression turns serious for a second. “Please do take care of it.”
He places a hand over his chest, feeling the round edges of the little crown pin brush against his fingers. “Of course I will, dearest. You can count on me to have it returned without a scratch.”
Jamil stares at Azul with a look that’s a cross between disgust and like he just took a big bite of a lemon. He pinches the bridge of his nose and merely sighs.
“You’re totally hopeless.”
Azul replies with another airy giggle.