Work Text:
The bass from Diluc's sound system thrummed through the hardwood floors of the Ragnvindr mansion, but Eula barely noticed. She'd been nursing the same red solo cup for the past hour, watching Rosaria flirt with some girl from her sociology class while Kaeya disappeared into whatever drama he and Diluc had going on this week.
She was considering calling an Uber when she heard it.
"Okay, okay, just... let me try again."
The voice came from the partially open door of what looked like Diluc's study. Eula glanced around—no one was paying attention to her anyway—and moved closer.
"Lisa, I've been thinking about this for a while now, and I..." The voice paused, frustrated. "No, that's terrible. Lisa, you know how much our friendship means to me, but lately I've been feeling—ugh, no."
Eula found herself leaning against the doorframe, oddly captivated by this stranger's crisis. Through the crack, she could see a blonde girl pacing in front of a massive bookshelf, gesturing at her own reflection in the window.
"Lisa, you're the most beautiful, intelligent person I know, and I—" The girl stopped abruptly. "God, I sound like I'm proposing."
Despite herself, Eula snorted with laughter.
The pacing stopped. The door opened fully, revealing a flustered blonde with the kind of effortless beauty that probably made professors forget their lectures mid-sentence.
"Oh. Hi. Sorry, I didn't know anyone was..." The girl's cheeks were pink. "How much of that did you hear?"
"Enough to know Lisa's probably going to let you down easy," Eula said, taking a sip from her cup.
The girl's face went from pink to red. "Excuse me?"
"Lisa Minci, right? Brunette, kind of ethereal, hangs out with that Albedo guy?" Eula pushed off the doorframe. "She's not into women. Not romantically, anyway."
"And you know this how?"
"Because I asked her out freshman year." Eula's smile was sharp. "Got the whole 'you're wonderful but I just don't see girls that way' speech. Very gentle. Very final."
The blonde stared at her. "Oh."
"Yeah. Oh." Eula stepped into the study. "Also, your speech needs work. You sound like you're accepting an Oscar."
"I'm sorry, are you trying to help me or destroy my self-esteem?"
"Can't it be both?"
For a moment, they just looked at each other. Then the blonde laughed—actually laughed, not the polite kind.
"Jean," she said, extending her hand.
"Eula." She shook it, noting how Jean's grip was firm, confident despite her obvious nerves. "And for the record, I wasn't trying to destroy anything. Just... saving you from some awkward conversations."
Jean sank into one of Diluc's leather chairs. "Great. So I've been psyching myself up for weeks to confess to someone who's never going to feel the same way."
"Welcome to college," Eula said, settling into the chair across from her. "Population: everyone's confused about everything."
"Right, because I'm obviously some naive freshman who doesn't understand how attraction works." Jean's voice had an edge now.
"I didn't say that."
"You implied it."
Eula raised an eyebrow. "I know what that means. I'm a college student, not a moron."
Something shifted in Jean's expression. The defensiveness faded, replaced by what might have been amusement. "Sorry. I just... I hate feeling stupid."
"You're not stupid for having feelings for someone."
"Even if they're the wrong feelings for the wrong person?"
Eula considered this. "Especially then. Those are usually the most honest ones."
The music from the party seemed muted here, creating a strange bubble of intimacy in Diluc's study. Jean was quiet for a long moment, studying Eula's face like she was trying to solve a puzzle.
"You don't really want to be at this party, do you?" Jean asked suddenly.
"What gave it away?"
"The way you're sitting. Like you're ready to bolt at any second."
Eula glanced down at herself—Jean was right, she was perched on the edge of the chair, tension in her shoulders she hadn't even noticed. "Parties aren't really my thing."
"Then why come?"
"Rosaria dragged me. Said I needed to 'socialize with humans occasionally.'" Eula made air quotes. "What about you? This doesn't seem like your scene either."
Jean gestured vaguely toward the door. "My roommate Amber thought it would be good for me. She's probably out there doing shots with people she met five minutes ago."
"And you're in here practicing love confessions."
"And you're in here avoiding people."
They looked at each other again, and Eula felt something click into place—recognition, maybe, or understanding. Like Jean saw the same thing in her that she saw in Jean.
"So," Eula said, settling back in her chair properly for the first time. "Tell me about Lisa."
Jean blinked. "What?"
"You were working up the courage to tell her how you feel. That takes... something. Tell me about her."
"I thought you said it was pointless."
"Doesn't mean the feelings aren't real." Eula crossed her legs, genuinely curious now. "What is it about her?"
Jean was quiet for so long Eula wondered if she'd overstepped. But then Jean started talking, slowly at first, then with growing animation. About Lisa's laugh, the way she made everything seem effortless, how she could make even the most mundane conversation feel like an adventure.
And as Jean talked, Eula found herself watching the way Jean's hands moved when she got excited, how her eyes lit up when she described something she cared about. Found herself thinking that whoever Jean was really meant to fall for was going to be very, very lucky.
"What about you?" Jean asked suddenly, interrupting her own story. "Anyone making you practice speeches in empty rooms?"
Eula felt heat rise in her cheeks. "Not lately."
"But there was someone?"
"There's always someone," Eula said carefully. "Usually someone completely unavailable."
"Like Lisa."
"Like Lisa."
They fell into comfortable silence, and Eula realized with surprise that she didn't want to leave. Didn't want this strange, honest conversation to end. When was the last time someone had looked at her like Jean was looking at her now? Like she was genuinely interesting rather than just... prickly.
"Can I ask you something?" Jean said.
"You've been asking me things for the past twenty minutes."
"A real something. Not small talk."
Eula's pulse quickened. "Okay."
"Do you think..." Jean paused, seeming to gather courage. "Do you think sometimes we convince ourselves we want things because they seem safe? Even when they're not actually what we want?"
The question hung between them, loaded with implications Eula wasn't sure she was ready to examine. But Jean's eyes were steady on hers, waiting for a real answer.
"Yeah," Eula said quietly. "I think we do that a lot."
Jean nodded slowly. "I thought so."
The silence stretched again, but it felt different now—charged, like the air before a storm. Eula was acutely aware of everything: the way Jean was looking at her, the space between their chairs, the fact that her heart was beating faster than it had any right to.
"Jean," she started, not sure what she was going to say.
"Yeah?"
Before Eula could answer, the door burst open and a brunette with a red bow bounded in.
"Jean! There you are! You have to come see—oh." The girl stopped short, taking in the scene. "Sorry, am I interrupting something?"
Jean straightened, the spell broken. "Amber, this is Eula. Eula, my roommate Amber."
"Hi," Eula managed, trying to ignore the disappointment settling in her chest.
"We were just talking," Jean said, but her eyes lingered on Eula's face like she was memorizing it.
Amber looked between them, clearly sensing undercurrents she didn't understand. "Well, there's karaoke starting, and you know how Venti gets when people don't participate..."
"Right," Jean said, standing. "We should probably..."
"Yeah," Eula agreed, but as Jean reached the doorway, she found herself saying, "Actually, wait."
Jean turned back, eyebrows raised.
"I was thinking of heading out anyway," Eula said, trying to sound casual. "Want to get some air? This party's kind of..."
"Overwhelming?" Jean finished with a smile.
"I was going to say loud, but sure."
Jean glanced back toward the party, then at Amber, who was practically vibrating with excitement about karaoke. "Go ahead," Jean told her roommate. "I'll catch up later."
Amber's eyes darted between them again, clearly curious, but she just shrugged. "Don't let Venti guilt trip you into singing 'My Heart Will Go On' again!"
Once Amber bounded back toward the chaos, Jean looked at Eula expectantly. "So. Air?"
They slipped out through Diluc's back door, escaping into the cooler night. The contrast was immediate—instead of pounding bass and shouted conversations, there was just the distant hum of cicadas and the soft rustle of wind through the trees surrounding the mansion.
"Better?" Jean asked, settling onto the steps of the back deck.
"Much." Eula sat beside her, leaving a careful space between them that felt both respectful and charged with possibility.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, looking up at stars barely visible through the light pollution from campus.
"So what do you actually want to do?" Jean asked suddenly. "Like, after all this." She gestured vaguely toward the mansion, but Eula understood she meant college, maybe life in general.
"You mean besides avoid parties?"
"Besides avoid parties."
Eula considered the question seriously. It wasn't often someone asked her that—really asked, not just making polite conversation. "I want to travel," she said finally. "See places that don't exist in textbooks. Document things that are disappearing before they're gone forever."
"Like what?"
"Languages. Traditions. The way my grandmother used to cook before she had to adapt everything for American grocery stores." Eula picked at the label on her cup. "I'm majoring in anthropology, but everyone acts like that's just an excuse to avoid getting a 'real job.'"
"That sounds incredible though. Like actually meaningful work."
"What about you?" Eula asked, deflecting before Jean could see how much the validation meant to her. "What does Jean want to do with her life?"
Jean was quiet for a long moment. "I want to help people," she said finally. "I know that sounds generic, but... I want to work in policy. Environmental law, maybe. Figure out how to make the system actually work for once instead of just protecting the people who already have everything."
"That's not generic. That's terrifying."
Jean laughed. "Terrifying how?"
"You actually believe you can change things. Most people give up on that by sophomore year."
"Maybe I'm naive."
"Maybe." Eula studied Jean's profile in the dim light filtering from inside. "But maybe that's not a bad thing."
They fell back into silence, but it felt different now—deeper, more intentional. Eula found herself acutely aware of the space between them on the step, the way Jean's shoulder would brush hers if either of them shifted even slightly.
"You know what's weird?" Jean said after a while.
"What?"
"I've been so focused on Lisa, on this idea of what I thought I wanted... I haven't actually talked to anyone like this in months." Jean picked at a loose thread on her jeans. "Really talked, I mean."
"About what you actually want to do with your life?"
"About anything real." Jean glanced at her. "Most conversations at college are just... surface level. Classes, parties, complaining about professors. When's the last time someone asked you what you actually care about?"
Eula considered this. "Honestly? I can't remember."
"Right? It's like everyone's so busy trying to seem interesting that no one actually tries to be interested."
"Except you just spent twenty minutes asking me about anthropology."
"Because it actually is interesting." Jean shifted to face her more fully. "You light up when you talk about it. Like, you get this look in your eyes when you mentioned documenting disappearing cultures. Like it's not just a major, it's something you actually believe in."
Eula felt heat rise in her cheeks. "Most people think it's impractical."
"Most people are boring."
They shared a look, and Eula felt that click of recognition again—not romantic necessarily, but something deeper. Understanding, maybe. Or just the relief of being seen clearly.
"What about your family?" Jean asked. "Do they get it? The anthropology thing?"
"My family..." Eula's smile turned wry. "Let's just say they have very strong opinions about 'practical career choices.' What about yours? Are they supportive of the whole 'change the world through environmental law' plan?"
"They think I'm too idealistic," Jean said quietly. "My dad keeps sending me articles about corporate law salaries. My mom keeps suggesting I minor in business 'just in case.'"
"Just in case you decide to sell out?"
"Just in case I realize I can't actually make a difference."
There was something vulnerable in the way Jean said it, like she was admitting a fear she usually kept hidden.
"For what it's worth," Eula said carefully, "I think the world needs more people who still believe they can change things."
"Even if we're naive?"
"Especially if you're naive. The alternative is just... accepting that everything's broken and always will be."
Jean was quiet for a moment, looking out at the dark trees surrounding Diluc's property. "Is that what you're afraid of? That you won't be able to preserve the things you want to document?"
The question caught Eula off guard with its perceptiveness. "Yeah," she admitted. "Yeah, I think about that a lot. Like, what if I spend my whole life trying to save pieces of culture that are already too far gone? What if I'm just... collecting ghosts?"
"But what if you're not? What if even saving fragments of something matters?"
"You're very optimistic for someone who was practicing breakup speeches an hour ago."
Jean laughed, and the sound was bright and genuine in the quiet night. "Maybe I'm having a good influence on myself. Or maybe..." She paused, seeming to consider her words. "Maybe talking to someone who actually listens changes your perspective."
They fell into comfortable silence again, and Eula found herself studying Jean's profile in the dim light. There was something grounding about her presence—steady, thoughtful, real in a way that felt increasingly rare.
"Can I ask you something personal?" Jean said suddenly.
"Haven't you been doing that all night?"
"More personal."
Eula tensed slightly. "Okay."
"What about when you're not buried in textbooks?" Jean asked. "What do you do for fun?"
"Fun?" Eula raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"Come on, you must have hobbies. Something that isn't academic."
Eula was quiet for a moment, like she wasn't sure if she should admit it. "I dance," she said finally.
"Dance?"
"Ballet. Started when I was five, never stopped. There's a studio downtown where I take classes when I can afford it." She shrugged, trying to play it off as casual. "It's probably stupid for someone my age."
"Are you kidding? That's incredible. I can barely walk in a straight line."
"What about you? Besides saving the world through legal briefs."
Jean laughed. "I run. Like, a lot. Sometimes I think I'm training for something but I'm not sure what. And I read—not for class, just... everything. Fiction, poetry, random articles about things I'll never need to know."
"What kind of poetry?"
"The kind that makes you feel less alone in the universe."
"That's very specific."
"That's very honest."
They shared another look, and Eula felt that growing sense of understanding deepen. Jean wasn't just pretty and idealistic—she was thoughtful, genuine, someone who read poetry and understood why that mattered.
"Dancing and running," Jean mused. "We're both trying to move, just in different ways."
"That's surprisingly profound for someone who's had two beers."
"I've had three, actually. Which makes it even more impressive."
Eula found herself laughing—really laughing, not just being polite. When was the last time someone had made her genuinely laugh?
"We should probably head back," Jean said eventually, though she made no move to get up.
"Probably," Eula agreed, also not moving.
"Amber will wonder where I went."
"Rosaria will assume I called an Uber."
"But we're still sitting here."
"Yeah. We are."
Jean smiled, and it was soft and genuine and entirely focused on her. Not the smile of someone trying to be charming, but the smile of someone who was simply, genuinely happy to be where she was.
"This was nice," Jean said quietly. "Getting to know you, I mean."
"Yeah," Eula said, surprised by how much she meant it. "It really was."
Finally, they did get up, brushing off their clothes and heading back toward the house. But as they reached the sliding door, Jean stopped abruptly.
Through the glass, they could see into the living room where the party was still going strong. And there, in the center of it all, was Lisa—laughing and animated, surrounded by a mixed group of guys and girls, clearly having the time of her life. She had her arms around two different people, spinning between conversations with the easy confidence of someone who knew she was the center of attention.
Jean stared for a long moment, and Eula watched her watching Lisa, trying to read her expression.
"You okay?" Eula asked quietly.
Jean was silent for a beat. Then she turned away from the window, but something in her posture had shifted—not heartbroken exactly, but thoughtful. Maybe a little melancholy.
"Yeah," she said, though her voice was softer now. "Yeah, I think so. It's just... seeing her like that. So happy and carefree. She really doesn't need me complicating her life with feelings she can't return."
Eula felt a protective instinct she didn't entirely understand. "Hey," she said gently. "You weren't going to complicate anything. You were going to be honest about how you felt. That's not the same thing."
"I guess." Jean rubbed her arms like she was suddenly cold. "It's stupid, but seeing her... it feels like the end of something, you know? Like I've been living in this fantasy where maybe someday..."
She trailed off, looking lost in a way that made Eula's chest tighten.
"You want to get out of here?" Eula asked impulsively. "Like, actually leave. Not just go back to the chaos."
Jean looked up at her, surprised. "What?"
"There's a 24-hour diner about ten minutes from campus. Terrible coffee, decent pie. Very conducive to processing the end of fantasies."
"You don't have to—"
"I know I don't have to." Eula's voice was gentler than usual. "I want to. Unless you'd rather go back in there and pretend everything's normal."
Jean glanced back at the party, then at Eula, something shifting in her expression. "You really want to sit in a diner at midnight talking to someone you just met?"
"I really want to sit in a diner at midnight talking to you," Eula corrected. "Someone I just met who happens to be more interesting than anyone in there."
Jean's smile was small but genuine. "Okay. Yeah. Let's get out of here."
They slipped around the side of the house instead of going back through the party, and Eula texted Rosaria a quick explanation while Jean sent something to Amber. The night air felt crisp and clean after the stuffiness of the party, and as they walked toward campus, Eula found herself stealing glances at Jean's profile.
"Thank you," Jean said suddenly.
"For what?"
"For not making me go back in there and pretend I'm fine. For... this." She gestured between them. "Whatever this is."
"This is two people who didn't want to be at that party anyway finally doing something about it," Eula said. "No big deal."
But as they walked through the quiet streets, she couldn't shake the feeling that it was a bigger deal than she was admitting. That something was shifting between them, something that had started with eavesdropping and honest conversation and was becoming something else entirely.
Something that felt like the beginning of everything.