Chapter Text
Ballister’s POV
They are about 13 (Ballister) and 12 (Ambrosius)
"For never was a story of more woe / Than this of Juliet and her Romeo"...
I was halfway through the line when my focus slipped. I glanced away from my book and over to the boy pressed against my side.
Ambrosius Goldenloin was fast asleep.
I felt myself smile. He’d been hanging out in my dorm for about an hour, since everyone else had lessons, and we were each other’s only friends.
We’d been talking and laughing, but I decided to read about ten minutes ago, and Ambrosius had been reading over my shoulder, but I guess he’d fallen asleep.
I dragged my eyes away from him to the old grandfather clock. It read, 3:40.
My eyes widened. Oh, dammit! Everyone’s lessons were going to end in five minutes. I needed to get Ambrosius back to his dorm. We weren’t allowed to hang out with anyone until after dinner, which was at six.
I shook him. “Ambrosius!” I hissed.
He grumbled, barely lifting his head. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled, and—of course—buried his face into the curve of my neck like that was a normal thing to do.
My entire body went rigid. Heat blasted into my cheeks.
“Ambrosius! Wake up!” I shook him again, and, finally, his eyes slowly opened.
“W-what’s happening?” he asked with a yawn.
“You need to get back to your own dorm. Now!”
“Why?”
“Lessons are ending! We can’t be together! Move your butt off my bed and run!” I shouted.
His eyes widened, then narrowed in confusion. “Why? We didn’t do anything.”
“That’s not the point!” I pushed at his shoulder. “We’re not supposed to be with anyone until after dinner. Now move!”
He groaned dramatically, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Fiiiine.”
“Ambrosius—seriously—”
“I know, I know.” He hopped off my bed, wobbling a little from sleep. “See you at six-thirty?”
The casual way he said it — like it was a given, like being with me was already the highlight of his day — made something flutter in my stomach.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Go!”
He grinned, waved, and sprinted out.
I let out a long breath. That was way too close. If anyone caught us… I didn’t even want to imagine the punishment. We already got teased for being inseparable. Ambrosius… Well, he didn’t help that image by acting like he was in love with me all the time.
Sometimes I wondered if he actually was.
And sometimes — though I’d never say it aloud — I wondered if I felt the same.
I shoved my face back into my book, forcing my heartbeat to slow.
AT DINNER, THAT NIGHT
Mashed potatoes. Lots of mashed potatoes. I focused on them very, very intently.
Because if I looked up, I’d meet Ambrosius’s eyes from halfway down the table. I could feel his stare like a warm beam of sunlight. I resisted the urge to peek back.
When I finished, I handed my plate to the maid, and quickly exited, speed-walking back to my room.
Back in my dorm, I sat on my bed with my hands in my lap, trying (and failing) not to imagine what Ambrosius would say, or how close he’d sit, or—
A soft knock.
Ambrosius was peeking his head inside the dorm. The second he saw me, his entire face lit up. “Hiiiii!” he whispered loudly as he bounded across the room and threw himself onto my bed.
“You’re late,” I said, even though he absolutely wasn’t.
“By one minute,” he huffed. “I was being stealthy.”
“Uh-huh.”
He smiled again — big, bright, genuine. My heart tripped over itself.
“Please tell me you’re not going to read again,” Ambrosius whined.
“I won’t,” I promised. “I finished that book. I’m getting another tomorrow.”
“Good,” he said firmly. “No reading when I’m here. Your brain needs fun.”
I rolled my eyes. “We can talk.”
“Sounds good to me!”
We settled comfortably, our knees brushing. I couldn’t help sneaking a glance at him. His smile was… nice. Too nice.
He caught me staring. “What?” he asked softly.
I swallowed. “Nothing. Just… I have a question.”
Ambrosius sat up straighter. “Ask.”
“Do you…” I bit my lip. “Do you like anyone? Like, have a crush on someone?”
Ambrosius’s ears turned red. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason.”
That was a lie, and we both knew it.
He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “I think I do. Maybe.”
“Oh.” My throat felt tight. “Do I know them?”
Ambrosius immediately looked like he wanted to sink through the mattress. “I… would rather not say.”
“Fair enough.”
“Do you like someone?”
My heart jumped into my throat. “Maybe.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You’re not going to tell me either, huh?”
I shook my head fast enough to get dizzy.
“Maaaaybe we should change the subject,” Ambrosius suggested, after an awkward silence.
“Please do,” I answered.
We fell into easier conversation after that, talking about the Director, sword drills, the kid who fell asleep in archery class last week… but the whole time, every time he leaned in, my heart sped up.
And I didn’t know what that meant yet.
But I had a feeling I would soon.