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You swear to the Seven this was not your intention.
You’re not complaining, sure, but you can tell Jamil is glaring literal daggers at your retreating back for taking his “teammate” away and leaving him alone to face the oncoming onslaught of takoage battles, so maybe he does have some choice words for you. Maybe you can try to placate him later by saying you simply gave him more room to maneuver on his own without the Draconian heir’s imposing shadow right behind him.
Jamil may have words, but Malleus sure doesn’t: there is a slight spring in his step as he walks besides you, you can tell. So used are you to him falling to your pace when walking together that you can tell when he’s speeding up ahead, even with the geta he has to use to walk over the thick, slippery snow. You’re not questioning how he’s managing—you’ve seen this man walk in heels tall enough to topple anyone else over, so it’s not exactly surprising how he’s managing to don his new kimono as if he’s been wearing one his entire life.
Must be a dragon prince thing, you think to yourself. You can’t help but miss the presence of his dragon tail, but the image of it, leaving a trail on the snow behind him as he walks… it's too cute.
You clear your throat to hide a giggle, the sleeves of your furisode being your saviour as Malleus’ piercing eyes turn towards you.
His head even tilts a little bit in curiosity.
“What’s so amusing, Child of Man?”
You have to crane your neck up to look at him even when he is not wearing heels, by the way. How unfair. “Nothing, nothing,” you pull your sleeve away, still smiling. “Just remembering how Grim tripped this morning and fell flat on a lump of snow in front of the dorm. He left a perfectly Grim-shaped hole in it, too.”
A deep chuckle reverberates from his chest, and you take the rewarding sound as a little win. “Ah, I see. I assume that is why he was trembling and hiding in your clothes when he entered the shop? He was never one to shake in my presence.”
“The cold got to him, that was all,” you wave your hand, now smiling at the memory as well. Malleus raises the green fan to his lips with a smile. He could run into a tree and still manage to look graceful, you think, silently admiring the sight. Even the fur decorating his shoulders and long down his back, trailing behind him, moves with flowing grace.
A gentle tap to your forehead makes you focus on the present again. You realize he’s just tapped you with his fan, looking a bit too delighted. “You’re staring. Is there something wrong with my attire?”
You know damn well there isn’t! “I, uh. No.” Smooth. Good job. “It’s just… it makes you look bigger?”
Malleus’ eyebrows raise and you purse your lips together. “Is that so?”
You grab the flow of the first thing that comes to mind and ride it. Just ride it. “Yeah, I’m used to see you looking less… bulky? That is not what I wanted to say.”
Less than looking offended, Malleus seems to be having the time of his life messing with you. “Try again, then. I know that is not what you have in your mind.”
Malleus can be a little too observant sometimes, just like he can miss the most obvious hints staring right at his face. You don’t mind it, it’s another thing you find cute and fun about the imposing crown prince, and you’re less and less afraid to let him know.
The both of you have been teetering that invisible line that’s drawn between you, after all, sometimes going as far as stepping over it: a brush of a hand, a gentle running of his fingers through your hair while you two sit together, your fingers tapping his thigh to get his attention.
Walks deep into the night as he goes on and on about gargoyles, invitations to stay up until late examining Ramshackle from the inside (and maybe tell him tales about your homeworld), stargazing until the Sun begins to rise... All of that and more, with him, feel like the line is, slowly, fading—like it’s drawn over the very snow you’re walking on at this exact moment, and every time any of you cross over it, a little bit of the line gets buried underneath the snow.
You give in and take a step.
There’s many plum trees blossoming around the snowy paths around this side of campus, and so an idea pops into your head: you veer off the walk into the grassy area, thanking your lucky stars for not tripping over yourself while doing so, and pull off a thin branch holding a few open blossoms. Malleus doesn’t keep your eyes off you while you do so, following every movement up to when you gesture at him to lean down a little bit.
He does so without complaining nor questioning. You adore him so, but that feels a bit too raw to say out loud just yet.
You reach up to his low ponytail, grabbing the loose edges of the white silk holding it together, and raise the small branch up to it. Carefully, you tie it in, making sure it’s safe and secure, and hoping it’s good enough not to break if he moves too much. All while trying to ignore how warm it feels when he is leaning too close to you. You think you hear him swallow, but for the sake of your own sanity, you tell yourself it might’ve been your own imagination.
When you pull back, looking satisfied (and definitely not flushing like a plum blossom yourself), Malleus blinks.
“There,” you say. “You look amazing, Tsunotarou. Like a deity from a far away land.”
To everyone else sans a few, he probably looks imposing and unapproachable. To his closest, he looks simply like Malleus, looking all the bit like the member of the royal family he is, authoritative, but still their gentle Malleus. One they would do anything for, you hold no doubt about it.
To you, he is indeed your Malleus, your Tsunotarou. A mysterious presence first, then friend second, and finally, a presence you know deep down you’d miss for the rest of your life if it were to leave.
Still too raw to say out loud.
Malleus, too, seems to be thinking of what to say. His neon green eyes are still fixated on yours, measuring, seeking for something, perhaps, but you can’t tell.
His gloved hand lifts slowly, running his fingers carefully around where the plum blossom rests decorating his hair falling over his shoulder. “A deity…” He mutters. “You’d think of me so highly? So untouchable?”
Ah. “No,” you quickly amend, shaking your head. A couple of students are walking not too far away, and suddenly you feel too exposed to talk. “Just highly, but because I admire you. I don’t know how else to put it… I suppose just like one admires the stars above, or the sunset or the dawn. That is as close as I can get. Should we keep going?”
Malleus hums. You have a feeling he wanted to hear something else, but you try not to dwell on it too much. When you start walking away, though—
“Perhaps this will help?”
Something covers your view, but not entirely. The world around you is blanketed by a white curtain—a veil—you realize.
Malleus is under it, with you. The rest of the world seems unimportant—like there is a barrier between the two of you and the entirety of this strange magical world you’re slowly growing to call home.
There are no more sounds, no more students talking. Just him under the veil, adjusting it to cover the both of you. Even with his horns, it is long enough to keep you and him almost fully covered.
“Go on. None can hear us here.”
You make a titanic effort not to bite your lower lip, so you purse both of them together instead, knowing that if you look at him, this time, the line between you might be fully buried.
You look down at your hands for a few seconds, you focus on the embroidery decorating your long sleeves, on the little purse hanging off your obi. In a moment of weakness, you let your hand press over your chest, begging your heart to calm down. You know what he is asking for: a hint, a word, a green light.
The worst part of it all is how hopeful Malleus is looking, despite his attempts to take the lead of the situation. It hits you like a punch.
This is not like anything you two have done before. Not the casual touches, not the soft moments of intimacy that can be read as close friends, no. Malleus is asking you to cross over the line to him fully, this time. Out of nowhere. Impulsively. Following the whim of his emotions. It’s not something he does very often.
Perhaps you should do the same, this once.
Slowly, you open your arms, and even with the cumbersome attires, you manage to wrap them around his waist. The words are still stuck in your throat, too deep and too vulnerable, so you decide to try and show him instead.
Today, Malleus smells softly like pine.
You’ve seen Malleus’ hands crush a coconut open once, and yet when one arm wraps around your waist, pressing your chest against his, it feels like the safest place in the world. Warm and solid. You could stay there forever.
“... Is this enough?”
This time you do hear Malleus swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the corner of your vision. You think you might pass out.
And then the soft press of something cold against the side of your lips, dangerously close, yet not quite there. The smell of pine grows stronger, enveloping you wholly just like he is doing. This is his answer, and this is when you realize Malleus Draconia of Briar Valley is struggling with words as much as you are. His hand presses against your cheek, warm and soft under the gloves before his eyes look down and begins to pull away.
You’ve been too still, you realize. Too shocked. Wait, come back—
You follow him before he does, this time pressing yourself against his lips, your fingers digging into the fabric of his kimono as you kiss him with a fervor you’re not sure you could even have before this. The second it takes him to realize is agonizingly slow, but when he finally does it’s like he himself steps and fully buries the damn line between you two.
He presses against you and you feel indeed like you are in heavenly hands.
Malleus’ fangs graze your lips, with his every breath against you feeling hot and heavy. Every sound, every rumble from him makes your legs grow weak, and you try to hold on for dear life as Malleus Draconia kisses you stupid under the veil he’s pulled out from Seven knows where. All you know is that nothing else matters but the press of him against you, the heat of his warm lips against yours, and your arms around him just like his own hold you close enough to make it hard to breathe.
You have to gently pat his chest to ask him for air, and he does pull back. For a second only, then he kisses you again, like it’s the only thing in his mind. You can’t help but huff out a nervous laugh, holding onto his shoulders this time as he leans against you further, pushing you back. You could fall onto the cold snow beneath you, but you know he won’t let you.
A small noise escapes your throat–and the moment it does, he presses against you harder.
You don’t know how much time passes. Perhaps it’s barely been a few minutes, but to you it felt like hours. Your lungs beg for air over and over and Malleus finally has mercy and pulls away (not that you really wanted it), but his arms do not let you move.
You do lean away a little bit, but to cover your burning face. Malleus’ deep laugh makes your heart stutter as you bury your face against his chest.
“... Is this what you wanted to hear?” You ask, muffled against his chest.
“Yes,” he answers immediately, his voice strained. “Yes, it was.”
Another soft press of his lips, this time against your forehead. Long, gentle fingers brush some strands of hair away from your eyes, and trail even lower to your chin, lifting your head up to look at you. You let him, raising your own hand to his cheek in a show of affection and maybe a little bravery. You’re rewarded when he rests his cheek softly against your palm, his eyes half-lidded.
Malleus looks completely, utterly enamored. There is a soft tint over his own cheeks. Soft, barely visible, but there. Everything makes your heart start racing again.
He doesn’t look like a deity, nor a prince. He just looks like Malleus, like your Tsunotarou, looking at you as if you’re the most important thing in his life at this very moment.
“I wanted to start this year with you by my side,” Malleus confesses, dropping a kiss against your palm. “... I did not know how to approach you about it. I find myself at a loss with you, sometimes. I am glad to see it’s not only me.”
You breathe out, trying to gain a little bit of your composure back. “I feel the same. About you—er, me—finding myself at a loss. I’m just not very good with words, sometimes.”
“Should I resort to actions more often, then?” And oh, you can hear the small tilt of his lips in his tone. You grumble and give his waist a squeeze in warning.
“Shush.”
“Hmm. As you wish.”
He kisses your cheek next. At some point you will have to try and get him back for this, you think. He is having too much fun, knowing he is turning you into a melting puddle with his onslaught, after all.
You’re not blind. You know you can get him to react too, it’s a matter of doing it (once you can do it without combusting yourself).
For now you take Malleus’ hand, not missing the way his grip hesitates slightly before lacing his fingers with yours. You have a little bit more time with him before he has to return to the store for his shift.
He leaves the veil fully over your head, falling on a soft flutter down your back. “You can keep it.”
You lean against him, unable to hold back your smile. There is a tingling warmth growing all over your body, and your heart feels like it’s about to burst. It’s perfect. He is. This moment is. Everything is.
You’re the happiest person in all of Twisted Wonderland right at this moment. “Thank you.”
With the way Malleus is smiling back to you, you dare hope he feels the same way as well. That and the small hint of a certain dragon appendage behind him that wasn’t there before seems to be telling enough for you.
Perhaps next time you can be the one to cover him with the veil and steal a kiss under the plum blossoms.
And maybe tease him about his dragon tail, now wagging slowly over the snow as it leaves a trail in the white path behind you both.