Archive of Our Own

It was pouring. Endlessly and relentlessly striking the earth and those who happened to be outside. And of course, of course, I had to be caught up in this onslaught of rain. Well, that's what London gives you I suppose.

It was my own fault really.

This morning the sky was grey and that afternoon when I went out to shop a storm was brewing. I should've known better to grab an umbrella or a coat or something. But no. Why am I so forgetful? Why did I trust London weather at all?

I should've known better. How could I be so careless?

As the rain continues to pour, my clothes got heavier. My hair is wet.

God, how can I be so stupid?? Always so naive, thinking I had enough time! Thinking that I could look forward to this next chapter in my life, and things could only go up?? Nature is literally telling me, no! It reminds me of my shortcomings. My failures. My faults.

I can feel the wetness seeping into my shoes. My socks. Every part of me feels soaked.

This is what I deserve! The weather's right in it's cruelty.

It felt like an actual weight was pushing down on me. Threatening to crush me completely. As if I hadn't already completely surrendered to the dispair.

I looked at the plastic bag I was holding in my right hand. It was supposed to be the dinner I was going to prepare, but now I'm not sure if I'll even make it to the station to get to my apartment.

Lifting my head, I glanced around to see where I was. The houses stretched to the end of the street, and I realized I wasn't even close to the station. I gulped, shaking with the chill. Then I looked at the house number adjacent of the sidewalk I was currently taking.

Standing straighter, I recognized a house a few doors down. I sighed.

I hadn't meant to see him just yet. I certainly didn't want him to meet me like this! But, I guess I'll just have to drop in now. Maybe get warm again, then set out to my new apartment once more.

Such a shame, it would have been a great surprise, me greeting him in high spirits and catching him off guard. How flustered would he have gotten? Shaking my head with a sigh, I continued to his home.

Now standing on the stoop, I hesitated for a bit. But eventually, I raised a fist to the door, and knocked softly.

It was for those few seconds I felt the anxiety build up, my heart getting heavy. I didn't hear his faint "Hold on a moment please!", being wrapped up in my uncertainty.

Maybe this wasn't such a-

Then, the door opened.

And standing there, was a man I knew well. A very good friend of mine, his presence carrying one of my closest held secrets to my heart.

He was wearing what he usually does, minus the brown overcoat and green shoes tucked to the side of the small entryway inside.

His eyes glimmered with recognition instantly, pleasantly surprised, a smile curving his lips.

"(N)! I didn't expect to see you so-"

He stopped himself halfway through his sentence immediately noticing how drenched with the rain I was. And how I was shaking.

"Goodness, are you alright? What are you doing out in this weather?"

I gulped again, hand going to hold my arm. I tried my best to give an innocent smile as I responded. "Hey, Hershel! I was supposed to surprise you with a visit tomorrow, but-"

A clap of thunder suddenly interrupted me, and Hershel moved aside. "Nevermind that dear, please, come in and out of this storm!" He ushered me inside quickly, closing the door behind me as I entered.

His house always felt cozy. Maybe a little cluttered with books, newspapers and such, but I would never point it out as that was a trait I myself was guilty of. Standing in the entrance of his home, I could see the front room a little down the foyer. Next to the front door he had his coat rack, brown coat hanging up upon it.

I exhaled, eyes closed as I set my grocery bag down next to the coat stand. "Thanks Layton."

Coming to stand ahead of me, he turned to face me and got a better look at my disposed appearance, getting more concerned. "Oh my, you look much worse for wear!"

Glancing over at him, I quickly avoided eye contact, sight falling to my shoes as my hand went to hold my arm. I almost chuckled in spite of myself. "..I underestimated the weather.."

Hershel immediately noticed my tone of voice, blinking and standing straighter. He observed my hidden downcast expression, suddenly recalling how my eyes seemed puffy and irritated. His expression became a lot more softer, realizing. "Are-. Have you been crying?"

My head snapped back up. I should've known he noticed! I sighed sharply, shaking my head slightly, forcing a reassuring smile. "I-It's not a big deal, Hersh, just the rain."

Hershel took a pause, a hand going to hold the rim of his hat, glancing up and down my stance. He spoke his mind. "Well, excuse my bluntness, but I think it is certainly a deal. I'd hate to see you so upset (N)."

I blinked with surprise, even though I wouldn't expect anything less of his reaction. Briefly I glanced away, feeling a warmness run through my cheeks. I let my arms fall to my sides, as Layton waved to follow along. "Here, let's go get you warmed up." I could've sworn his hand ghosted mine...

After slipping off my shoes I followed him to the front room, and the professor gestured for me to sit down on his fairly large sofa. "Sit here, I'll get you a towel."

I chuckled as he promptly shuffled out of the living room and down the hallway, retreating his steps briefly to go pick up my groceries along the way and taking them to the kitchen.

Looking around, I noticed the large fireplace, a warm looking chair in the corner, and a decorative rug on the floor behind the sofa. I also took note of the entrance to the kitchen on my left, attempting to distract myself from the chill I was getting from my wet clothes. I realized, surely I was getting his sofa wet too.

Before I could react though, the professor returned from the hallway with a dark blue fluffy towel and came over to me, handing over the piece of cloth.

I found a smile making its way onto my lips as I took the towel. "You're a lifesaver Layton."

He chuckled a smidge, readjusting his hat for no apparent reason, a grin being returned. He was relieved to see me smiling. "Well, I strive to please."

For a moment he found himself awkwardly standing there, unsure of what to say or do next as I tentatively dried my hair off with the towel.

I felt the silence between us settle, and spoke up first, setting the towel in my lap. "So..."

Finally I gave a light chuckle, turning my head to him, raising my arms up to my shoulder length. "Surprise! I'm back in London!"

He let the mirth rumble out through his lips, eyes glinting with familiarity. "It is good to see you (N). I was even more pleased to receive your letter speaking of your return."

"That's good to know. It's good to see you too Hershel. Despite the circumstances, heh." I responded lightly, subtly pointing down at myself.

Feeling more relaxed he let out a breath, the words coming easily to him now. "I'll make some tea for us. Any preferences this evening?"

I responded as he turned, making his way to the kitchen. "Some Chamomile tea sounds nice."

"Of course." He already knew I was going to say that.

I stood briefly walking closer to the crackling fireplace, holding my hands out to take in the warmth. I sighed, more relaxed this time. I felt immensely grateful to know Hershel as much as I do.

The warm feeling washed through me again, and my heart reminded me of my feelings.

I breathed out a laugh, standing up and looking over to the kitchen. I sauntered over and into the kitchen finding Layton turning on the stove, a kettle filled with water settled on a burner.

"Need some help?"

He turned slightly, giving an honest smile. "How kind of you to offer, although, I believe I've got it under control."

I just nodded, putting my hands behind my back. "Okay then."

As Layton perused the cupboard for the correct tea bags, he inquired on my previous mention. "So, why have you come back to London? You never specified a specific reason as to why."

"I kept it pretty vague didn't I?" I laughed a little. He found the tea bags, and a small jar of honey, bringing them over to place next to the stove.

"Yes, however I do like you making things a puzzle for me."

I grinned, walking over to him, standing to his right side. "I try my best. But I'll never be good at puzzles like you or Luke." Briefly his movements paused, a distant look to his eyes. I continued, steering away from my previous comment, rubbing the back of my head. "Actually, I came back from America to open up a music studio here."

He looked back to me. "Really? In London? I'd thought you'd stay in America for a venture such as that."

I leaned back against the counter behind us. "A change of scenery can be great for a creative mind."

"Absolutely." He nodded.

This time, a comfortable moment of quiet passed through as Layton eyed the kettle, then gazed back to me.

He gave a hearty chortle, a cheeky smile tempting his lips, tipping the rim of his hat up to meet my eyes better. "Though, if I didn't know any better, I'd assume you came back just to see me."

A pink blush blossomed across my cheeks, and I averted my gaze, glancing away timidly.

He stifled another chuckle, gesturing a hand. "I jest, I jest."

Nodding, I felt a small smile creeping up my lips as I crossed my arms. For a moment I was quiet. Then, despite myself, I mumbled a chuckle, cheeks feeling warmer as I thought out loud. "Well, you may not be wrong."

Hershel was slightly caught off guard by the confirmation, blinking in surprise then turning his head away and tipping his hat to hide his eyes. The two of us stood in awkward, sheepish silence for a while, looking away from each other.

He turned his gaze back to the kettle, and I sauntered to the sink & kitchen window, looking out to the downpour.

He stole a glance back at me and noticed I was still shivering. Not enough to be obvious, but was enough for him to catch.

"Do you feel dry yet?"

His calling pulled my sight back to him, concern written on his face again. I shook my head, not bothering to hide it. "My clothes are still pretty soaked if I'm being honest."

The professor held his chin in thought, assessing the facts and staring at my current state. Then he made a decision, lowering his hand. "Go on to the washroom to tidy yourself. I'll take your wet clothes to dry."

I blinked in surprise. "Ah- but, what would you have me wear while they're drying?"

Another stretch of thinking went by, glancing up and down my stature. Then, he spoke slowly, almost embarrassed to suggest out loud. "...I suppose I can find some spare clothes of mine for you to wear."

I suddenly felt my neck warm up considerably, teasing my cheeks. My breath almost hitched with a snappy anxiousness. "Wh-what? You don't have to do that Hershel."

He nervously fidgeted in place, shaking his head and struggling to meet my eyes. "No, no, it's okay. I insist. I-I wouldn't want a lady such as you to catch a cold is all."

"Are you sure?" I blinked, a slightly clenched hand raised up to my chest, wondering if he was okay with his own suggestion.

He took a subtle moment to compose himself, standing a little straighter and finally meeting my gaze with an encouraging smile. Hand in habit going to hold the rim of his hat. "Certainly. Now go on, when you're finished our tea will be ready for you in the lounge room."

I almost let out a sigh at his insistence. Then, I finally smile small back, turning away and walking out of the kitchen to the bathroom in the hallway.

When I left the room, Hershel let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, shaking his head. He finds his senses quickly, looking back at the kettle, which was not boiling yet, before nodding and briefly walking off to his bedroom.

After a minute of standing in the bathroom, door closed and shed of my wet clothes, I took a moment to take a deep inhale, then exhale through my nose. Putting my hands on my heart, I did so again to calm my nerves.

It's only in his gentlemanly nature to ask such a question. I know better than to think I can slip my troubles by him so easily. Then again, he's had pretty good practice about that on himself.

I ponder about the embarrassed expression he gave after that comment I made. About his sudden anxiousness. About the comment he made before all that.

I could've sworn his hand brushed against my wrist again when he looked to me. When he looked away, before I went over to the kitchen window.

I shook my head, lowering my arms back to my sides. I take a long stare into the mirror at myself.

Stop reading into it. He's not ready. Won't ever be available anyways...

I'm sorry Hershel. This... These feelings are selfish of me.

Would it be better to never speak of them? Or.. should I let myself receive the gut punch I know would be coming?

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"(N)? Have you dried yourself off?"

I flinch, not expecting his voice to interrupt my thoughts. I picked up my wet clothes, then walked over to the door. "Uh, yeah, yeah I have."

I lightly touch my hand to the doorknob, and crack open the door a smidge, so he can only see my face.

I'm once again met with warm eyes, though the rest of his facial expression is not helping to hide how flustered he actually is under the surface.

He glances down to the clothes in his hand, gesturing them to me. "I found some garments you should be able to fit."

Setting my wet clothes beside me, I take the dry clothes from him, still actively anxious about him offering his laundry. "Thank you."

In an attempt to offset it, I chuckle lightly, picking up and gesturing my wet clothes to him. "I don't suppose you'll take these for me?"

He chuckled back, nodding and taking the soaked garments from my hand. "No problem. I'll get these in the dryer for you."

A shy smile finds its way to my face, and I shut the door a little still looking at him through a smaller sliver than before. "You really are such a gentleman aren't you?"

Hershel feels a warm, tingling sensation crawl up his neck. For a split second he stared at me with a look in his eyes I couldn't name. "Always charmed to." And with that, I shut the door and he hurried off.

After taking my wet laundry to the wash room, the knots in his stomach were thankfully interrupted by the whistle of the kettle from the kitchen, and he scuttled to make himself busy with preparing the tea.

He had given me sky blue sweatpants, and a candy red undershirt from a different outfit. They smelled nice, a comforting scent of detergent and a hint of earl gray tea leaves.

After changing, I stepped out of the bathroom with a fresh feel, taking a calming breath and smelling vanilla chamomile tea in the air. I smile despite my remaining anxiousness about the situation and saunter into the living room.

He's waiting for me at the sofa, a small tea cart in front of him, kettle steaming and two cups with their respective saucers sitting next to a small jar of honey. When he sees me, a light flush crosses his cheeks, but he tries to play it off, grinning small. "Ah, you look much more comfortable now."

He gestures to the sofa, then the small cart. "Come, have some tea."

As I come over to the sofa to sit, he starts pouring me a cup, and absentmindedly comments. "How lucky it is that you're a similar size to me in clothing."

I stifle a chuckle, sitting down next to him and raising up a flat hand up to our almost matching heights. "Being a little short has it's advantages after all, huh?"

He laughs softly, stirring a spoonful of honey into the steaming cup. "Indeed. That reminds me of a puzzle, actually.."

And so he went on describing a height puzzle involving flowers, and me attempting to solve it as we sipped our tea.

He shared a few more puzzles, chatting lightly for a bit.

Eventually, my cup ran empty, and I set it back down on its saucer, then back onto the cart. I shoot him a grateful look as I do so. "Again, thank you Hershel. I don't know what else to say."

He immediately sets down his own cup to physically gesture to the kettle, silently asking me if I want more as he responded to my thanks. "Don't mention it. I'm only doing what's right of me by you."

I shake my head no to the gesture and he grabs his cup & saucer again. A moment of quiet passes while he takes a sip.

Hesitantly, he lowers his cup to his saucer, meeting my eyes. "So... Why were you crying?"

I flinch, then try to find an excuse. But Layton reads my expression quickly, lowering his tea to his lap, turning a little to face me better. "Please don't try to hide it (N), I saw how distressed you were at the door."

A hand goes to hold my arm, and I glanced away, eyes downcast. "It- was just the rain getting me down Hershel, that's all."

He sits up straighter, a concerned frown drawing down his lips. "That's all?"

I sighed heavily. Seems I can't keep much from Hershel. Frowning, I rubbed my arm and kept my gaze away from him. "Just... Feeling the rain pelt down on me made me feel so.. helpless. It made me think about how much of a fool I was. First it was just small things.. I should've brought an umbrella with me. Should've worn a thicker jacket or a hoodie at least. But as it went on.. I was beating myself up pretty bad for it... Among other shortcomings of mine..."

He set his tea down on the cart, and spoke thoughtfully. "You shouldn't let things out of your control get to you that much. It wasn't any of your fault. It was just an unhappy coincidence."

I took a big sigh, bringing my hands together to sit in my lap and looked over to his gaze. Attention set on me. "I know. ...I couldn't help it though."

He briefly thought it over, before sliding over right next to me and setting a firm hand on my shoulder. "We all have those days. However, that doesn't mean those moments can or should define you. You're much more than your doubts." He smiles reassuringly. "You're stronger than you know (N). That I can say for sure."

His kind, caring concern threatens tears to prick my eyes. He always knows what to say to me. How to say it. It's almost too much.

And suddenly, I lunged forward and enveloped him in a tight hug. He's caught off guard, but a soft smile quirks up his lips regardless. I bury my face into his shoulder, trying not to cry. He lets it happen.

I sniffle, speaking up quietly after a moment. "I'm so glad to be with you right now, Hershel."

He blinked, then hummed a chuckle, glancing to me briefly. He exhaled quietly, eventually timidly placing a hand behind my back. He glanced away. "Admittedly, I'm immensely grateful for your presence too."

He lets the hug linger on for longer then he meant to, but he's... Unbothered by it. He let me stay for as long as I needed to. And, his arm felt.. comfortable around me.

...He quite likes it actually.

Before he can pull me away, I let go first, sliding out of the hug. "What time is it?" I glanced around, still hearing the rain pouring down outside.

Layton checks his watch, and almost jumps in surprise. "Past 5:00. Oh dear, it's around supper time now."

I stood up from the couch, pointing down a finger to him. "Well, now it's your turn to sit back Mr. Gentlemen. Because I have a dinner plan!"

I move across the living room as I speak, the professor hastily standing up from the sofa. "I had just bought some groceries to make dinner for myself when I got home, but since I'm here I'm willing to share!"

"Now, (N), that isn't nece-"

I interrupted him, already out of the living room and voice fading into the kitchen. "I'm already on my way to the kitchen and you can't stop me Layton! I'm making us dinner whether you object or not!"

He blinks, then just sighs. He smiles a little, fingers grasping onto his hat again. 'Good to see you in high spirits again I suppose.'

His expression flattens into thought, and he glances up to his hat.

Lately he's been trying to make an effort to wear it less, to let it rest sometimes. In fact, he had only put it on when he heard my knocking at the door earlier. Sauntering into the entrance of his home, he looked over to the coat rack. His coat was hanging up, and now next to his green loafers, were my shoes. He glanced up to his hat again, and slowly rises his hands to it. Gently he took it off, and brought it down to his chest to stare at it. He gazed to it for a long while.

Then, a warm voice spoke up in his thoughts.

'You have to stop following my rose petals Hershel.'

He took a sigh through his nose, smiling softly. He spoke in a whisper.

"I know."

Closing his eyes, he gave a chaste peck to his hat, in remembrance.

"Thank you."

He was more sure now. She would want him to be happy. Wherever it was found.

Gently he set his hat to hang on the coat rack, and took a step back, standing tall. His smile sad, but hopeful.

'I'll take good care. Like I wish I could've for you..'

And he made his way to the kitchen.

I was in the middle of prepping a pan to fry in, and a pan to cook my steak in when Hershel walked into the kitchen. He noticed me busy, glancing to the groceries I had spread across the counters next to the stove. I hadn't turned around yet but I had heard his footsteps.

He nervously coughed into his fist to get my attention. I turned around to finally see him.

He skewed a grin. "While I know I can't talk you out of cooking now, it wouldn't be very cordial of me if I didn't offer my hand in assisting. You're still a guest here."

I blinked. Immediately I had noticed he had taken his hat off, but didn't make it a big deal. I've seen him with his hat off before, so it wasn't too surprising. More so, I was surprised he decided to hang it up now. I shook it off easily, and simply smiled to him. "Okay then."

As he walked over to me, I grabbed a potato from my ingredients and turned back to him, grabbing his hand and placing it in his palm. "One question then; do you like skins or no skins?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter to me." He shrugged, half-trying to ignore the sudden energy that traveled through his hand.

Turning back around, I pointed to the counter with 3 other potatoes and a chef's knife set upon it. "Cut these into cubes for me then, would you please?"

He shook it off quite quickly, and got to work with a smile. "It'd be my pleasure."

He did as he was told, and helped tidy the kitchen as I went along. He shared some cooking puzzles with me, and I actually got one right this time. I joked around a little bit and even got him to laugh. The rest of the time he hovered over my shoulder watching me fry the potato squares on one burner, and saute two steaks in butter on the other.

His posture was relaxed, and multiple times he offered his help to me. I could've sworn he stared at me a few moments longer than he normally would. When I catch him, he glances away. It's easier to read his expressions without his hat on. And honestly, it was cute.

He's always cute.

Yes, Hershel Layton has had a special place in my heart since I've known him. What started as just admiration had grown considerably, and it was too late to curb my feelings. But feelings for him.. were touchy. Fragile almost. And despite being personable, he always held his own heart close to his chest. Especially considering...

Often he's so stubborn in disregarding his emotions. Helping out anyone else instead. And I always wanted him to give himself a break. But that wasn't about me. It would be selfish to expect him to harbor these feelings I have for him, hidden behind my heart.

...A stubborn fool can continue to hope for now I suppose.

Carefully he took the potatoes out of the oil, and set them on a rack. He followed my instructions to season them, then went back to look at the steak I was almost done with. He hovered behind my shoulder again, and abruptly spoke up.

"I must say, this looks delicious love."

My heart skipped a beat at that.

Immediately he realized his slip, and flushed a little, stuttering to correct himself. "I-I mean, it's- it- the dish looks lovely-. I mean to say."

I blinked, then smiled a little, glancing back to him. "I'm glad you think so Hershel. Is the dining table ready?"

He abruptly realized, turning around to said table on the other side of the kitchen. "Oh! Goodness, I almost forgot! I'll get on that quickly-"

I chuckled to myself as he went to prepare the table, turning back around to my food which was now done and just needed to be plated.

Perhaps a foolish clock still chimes twice a day.

After a bit of fixing up plates and turning everything off, dinner was ready, and we both sat down to enjoy the fruits of our labor. He even offered to grab a bottle of wine, but I politely declined. I wasn't ever much into drinking any types of alcohol really.

We chatted pleasantly, a comfortable atmosphere all around.

..

"Didn't you leave some drums here last time we visited?"

Hershel had inquired about the last time I had come to see him, incidentally leaving one of my drum sets somewhere.

I laughed after swallowing the last bite of my steak. "Ha, I wouldn't be surprised if the full drum set was still up in your attic or something!"

He was smiling, confirming the fact. "Yes, Luke and Flora would frequently ask about trying them out, and each time I would have to decline them."

"Goodness knows what damage Flora could've done to your eardrums!" I playfully exclaimed, then going to take a drink of my water.

His smile grew smaller, hand daintily holding his fork a little off the plate. "She's got a feisty spirit.. they both did really..."

I noticed his mood damper, setting down my glass. I sat up straighter, nodding. I hesitated picking up my fork to finish off my potato pieces. Instead I spoke, looking to him with a contained curiosity. "I noticed she's not around... Did she finally move out after all this time?"

Hershel answered, hand feigning his head. Hat habits die hard I suppose. We both paid no attention to it though as he talked. "Yes, shortly after Luke left to America she said she wanted to go out on her own. Be her own independent woman."

"I'm sure she's doing great." I replied, eating a piece of potato.

He concurred. "She got herself an apartment in downtown London. Last she said, she's been active and happy."

Another moment of eating, before I spoke, setting my fork down on the now empty plate. I had to approach this calmly. "Have you gotten letters from Luke?"

I watched as a fondness sparkled in his eyes for a split second. "Oh, of course. Every week he writes to me. About his new school, new friends... His town sounds like quite an adventure." Again the light in his eye dulled a tad, though so subtle that the average observer wouldn't notice. Lucky then I could easily catch his changes in mood.

I hesitated my next sentence, settling flat hands to the table, beside my plate. I glanced away briefly, a little tense, before looking back to him with gentle concern starting to leak through my body expression. "...Have you gotten any more letters from your brother?.. Or, have you tried to write to him?"

He glanced down at his almost empty plate for a brief second, before glancing back up. "Surprisingly yes. I thought that first one he sent would be his last. But it seems his travel companion has been encouraging him to write more when they stop somewhere for a while on their travels. In fact I got a letter from him Tuesday after last."

That made me feel a little relieved. Hershel took a pause, eyeing his drink glass before elaborating further. He smiled small. "I.. did finally get a chance to send a letter to him. Apparently he's been following my own mysteries through the paper."

That drew up my lips a little, and I relaxed my posture. "Even after all this time, big brother is still watching over his little brother. Even in the smallest ways."

Hershel grinned a little more at that, before his smile wilted. His thoughts drifted. "I wish we could connect again in person.. It's been quiet since-"

He stopped, setting a hand down on the table. And immediately I sat straight again. He doesn't stop himself like that so suddenly unless something was wrong.

I had already suspected something was up as soon as we started talking. And I had a feeling I knew what it was. Something I've seen him experience before, and something he was stubborn to admit to.

My right hand slightly curled up against the table as I hesitated. I silently inhaled through my nose, leaning a little forward.

"...Are you going to be alright? Are you alright?"

"Pardon?"

I expressed my deeply caring concern out loud, keeping soft eyes on him. "It's pretty obvious to me Hershel. Your brother is indefinitely on a fantastical globetrotting journey, your guardianship of Flora has come to an end, and your apprentice.. nay, your friend.. has moved far away, onto new independent experiences."

Finally, I cut through my hesitation, reaching my hand over to place it atop of his. ".. Anybody would be feeling dreadfully lonely after their loved ones carry on without them."

That pinged his heart, a long-off sadness crossing his eyes. And I suddenly realized what I inadvertently brought up in his memory. Crap.

I fidgeted, growing anxious. "I-. I didn't mean to indirectly bring up-"

"It's okay."

He cut me off, gently.

The air felt heavy, and for a beat no one moved. I thought about removing my hand, but I didn't. He didn't move his hand either.

The silence was palpable.

Hershel had his eyes glued to the table, and I gulped. It looked like he was gathering his thoughts. So, I patiently waited for him to speak again.

"I.."

He shrunk, nodding once and finally admitting. "I feel stuck in time almost. As if I'm a spectator." He slowly pulled his head up to meet my empathetic eyes. "Everyone around me is going on to do bigger and greater things. And that's fantastic! I'm immensely grateful to see them growing up. Yet, here I am, stuck in the present. Stagnant."

His voice got quieter. Hesitant to say. "Is this strange? To feel like..."

"You've been left behind?" I finished for him.

He ashamedly looked back down at himself. "If you wish to put it like that.."

I shook my head, posture relaxed and understanding. "No, Hershel. It's not strange. I know exactly how you feel."

I presently laced my fingers around his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, leaning forward a little more. "Hey... I'm here now. I'll be open to talk to. I know you're.. difficult with opening up but.." I smiled, our sights meeting. "You don't have to hide your emotions from me. A true gentleman wouldn't bottle them up and close himself off."

His sitting posture rose, and he felt his heart swell. Which only further confirmed the answer to this internal puzzle. Finally he grinned, feeling much better with my affirmation. "I suppose you're right.." He briefly glanced down to the table, to our held hands. Then back up to me, squeezing my hand back. "You always know how to put a smile on my face."

My heart fluttered. I reminded myself to curb my enthusiasm, but for this moment, I ignored it.

Eventually we fall lax back into dinner, and we both helped to clean up afterwards.

He kept staring at me. Sometimes trying to hide it, other times not trying to bother to. It again made the butterflies dance around in my stomach. Why was he doing that? Could it... No, come on (N), you saw what happened when you accidentally brought up-. He still grieves. His heart is still solely reserved. And will be for the foreseeable future.

Damn my hopeless romantic heart.

Sometime while washing off the dishes, Layton abruptly spoke up. Like he was ruminating over something.

"Do you remember how we met?"

I snorted a laugh, putting away the now folded tablecloth. "Ha, I do."

He chuckled at his own question, finishing up the last dish, then turning to me. "Well yes, I was partly unconscious for the first part of our meeting."

Nodding, I recalled how I met the short gentleman. "Yeah, I know! I'll never forget it..."

(FLASHBACK)

I was two months into a 6 month student exchange program at one of the universities in London. I was driving back to the flat I shared with a few other students. Being one of the oldest there, I strangely tended to be out more often than my peers. It was raining that day. That dreadful day.

I was slowly driving down the road, when I could've sworn I saw someone in an alleyway. Wait, were they laying down in the alleyway? They didn't look like a homeless person... Curiosity got the better of me and I had to turn back around to go see.

Parking on of the side of the street, I got a better look into the alleyway. And there, laying on the ground, was a man. He wasn't moving. Rain pattered down on him relentlessly.

Immediately I thought the worst, gasping. "Oh my God." Without skipping a beat I unbuckled, swinging open the car door and hurrying out into the sidewalk and up into the alley.

I almost shouted out loud, running up to the man. "Oh my God, sir! Sir are you okay?!"

I knelt down, shaking his shoulder. No response. Before I let myself panic, I checked his pulse with my fingers.

Barely there.

Okay, now I'm panicking.

And if it couldn't get any worse, I noticed a large dent in the back of his head, just below his top hat. How the hat was still on, I had no idea.

Carefully I raised my hand to touch it, and then-

Red. Red in his hair, on my fingertips!

Oh God! "He's bleeding!"

This was bad. Very bad. What the hell happened to this guy??!

Immediately I knew what I had to do. I couldn't stand around here, stores were closed, I couldn't recall any phonebooths in sight. Regardless, this guy was bleeding from his head! How long has he been here? He can't be dead yet, he still had a pulse. But not for long, if I don't do something now!

I held his head up as I turned him over, his face pale, breathing shallow. I stood up a little, sliding my arms under his neck and knees.  "Okay..okay, don't worry guy, I'll- I'll get you to the hospital."

Grunting, I slung the man over my shoulder, knees buckling. Just get to the car...

Huffing, I brought him over, setting him down in the passenger seat, adjusting him so that his head was tilting up. Glancing around the car, I took my sweater and bundled it, wrapping it around his injury. Again, I briefly marveled at how his hat stayed on his head through all this.

Focus (N), focus! This is not the time!

I strapped him in, and shut the passenger door, going back to the driver's side and climbed in. Where was the hospital again? Oh right!

I buckled myself in, turned the car on as quickly as I could and sped off. Minding any potholes or bumps in the road. Sometime during that tense drive, I suddenly heard a delirious mumble from the short man. It almost incoherent, but I caught a name.

"Claire..."

That punched me in the gut. Who the heck was Claire? Why did he sound so... sad?

I couldn't dwell on it, his life was at stake! He was once again silent for the rest of the drive.

I got him to the hospital, and he was brought to ER immediately.

I remember a nurse asking me, "Do you know him? What's his name?"

I was just as startled as she was. "I-I don't know! I just found him on the street like that!"

I stayed in the waiting room. I couldn't just leave. I had as many questions as anyone else. Maybe, there was something at the alley I missed?

After a couple of hours, a doctor came to speak to me.

"It's a good thing you got him here when you did. He's suffering severe blunt force trauma to the head, massive amounts of bleeding. He would've surely died if you didn't arrive when you did."

My heart hurt. Oh God, he really was that close.

He went on, "severely bruised ribs, splintered femurs-"

I listened, but halfway through the words became noise. I felt sick to my stomach. I nodded, trying to keep my attention on the doctor.

"Is.. is he.. going to be alright??" I dreaded even asking.

"He's going to be in intensive care to get treated, if all goes well he should be alright. More or less."

More or less???

"You're sure you don't know who he is ma'am?"

I shook my head quickly.

"Most likely, it's looking like an assault. We'll need to contact the police."

I swallowed. Of course. "Do your thing. Please, save his life."

The doctor looked at me funny. Like I shouldn't be so frazzled over a stranger. But that's just me. I can't help but be so worried.

"We'll do what we can ma'am." He disappeared into the corridors.

I knew I had to calm down. But Jesus it was difficult.

What time was it? Past midnight surely. I knew I should've gone to the flat to rest.

Then I remembered my earlier internal inquiry. Maybe I should investigate where I found him for clues.

Classes be damned! A man's life was hanging by a thread, and I just needed to know who he was!

I arrived back at the alley. It was eerily quiet now, the rain had stopped. Only illuminated by the shadows of lamp lights. I looked around, not finding anything. The pit in my stomach grew. What happened?..

Later that night the doctor told me the good news: that his injuries were being treated thoroughly. But the bad news?

He was in a coma from the head injury. Great. Just great.

For the following week I visited the hospital every day. Sitting, waiting, wishing, hoping. I felt a sense of.. duty to the man.

On the third day, they allowed me to see him. And they had learned who he was.

His name was Hershel Layton. He was a newly appointed professor at Gressenheller University, 27 years of age.

Wow. A professor at 27? Impressive. Just 5 years older than me. I wasn't studying at Gressenheller, that's probably why I didn't recognize him.

They weren't sure how long he was going to stay unconscious. Poor guy.

The day he woke up, it was an afternoon. Two weeks from when I found him. I wasn't there. His parents were though. As soon as my classes were over I headed to the hospital as usual. Checking in, then going down the hallway to where his room was.

I started hearing a conversation from his room, slowing my steps.

"If you could excuse my asking, but, how did I get here anyways?.." A soft, rich, smooth voice.

Followed by the doctor. "A very flustered young lass came into the emergency room practically carrying you on her shoulder. Almost fell down she did!"

Then an older man's voice. "A woman?" Immediately followed by an older woman's voice. "Would we happen to know her?"

I walked at a snails pace, realizing who at least one person the doctor was talking to.

"No, she didn't even know who you were."

"What?"

"She saved your life kid."

The older lady, I'm assuming is his mom, spoke again as I slowly came up to the open door. "Wow... Did she ever say why?"

Yes, an older lady and gentleman sat on two chairs beside the younger gentlemen's bed, said man having been laid at an angle. The doctor began speaking, before noticing my presence at the door. "No, she- Oh, there she is."

I blinked, standing straight, eyes wide. When his gaze met my own, I almost gasped. His pupils widened a tad, before becoming softer, almost awed. Soon, Hershel broke the silence, an awkward grin worming it's way onto his lips.

"Um, hello Miss."

After a moment of shock, I let out an audible breath I didn't even know I was holding, relief flooding my features & stance.

"Oh thank God you're awake."

A beat, before he chuckled despite himself, looking down at himself. "Indeed I am."

The doctor came up next to me, holding a clipboard. He nodded. "Ms. (N)." Briefly he told me what he told Layton's mother & father. "An update on his condition shows he's healing steadily, however he'll still be in the hospital for another week to observe the healing process."

I nodded, suddenly feeling very out of place and shy in this room.

The doc walked with me over to the gentleman's bed and parents. He spoke to Hershel first, introducing me. "Mr. Layton, this is (FN/LN), the woman that brought you here."

He was still staring at me with that awe in his face, it dimming into something more tender. "I'm... Not quite sure what to say. You saved my life Ms. (N). I'm indebted to you."

Immediately I shook my head, feeling very humbled. "It was just the right thing to do. And please, just call me (N). I'm not one much for formalities."

I had my attention then turned to his parents as his father spoke proudly first, smiling. "You saved our boy, young lady. That is no small feat."

"We're just as grateful dear." His mom concurred.

A warmness tingled up my spine at their gratitude, bowing my head a little in appreciation and placing my hands together in front of me. "Thank you, then."

The doctor grinned a little, happy to add on to the pile. "It may also be pleasant to know then that Miss (N) has been visiting you everyday in the afternoon for the past two weeks as well to ensure your recovery."

Now that surprised them.

Hershel was dumbfounded.

All three Layton members seemed to sync up. "What?"

A hand went to hold my arm, timidly glancing to my shoes.

Hershel's gaze came back to me. "You've.. come to see me? A complete stranger to you?"

I felt a lump forming in my throat. That same warmness from before threatening my cheeks. "Well.. Yeah."

Another moment of silence, before Hershel spoke again, quite puzzled. "Please excuse my daftness, but, why?"

I tilted my head back up to him. I spoke slowly, trying not to look back down or away out of bashfulness. "I.. felt it was only right. To make sure you'd be okay. When I saw you in that alleyway, I... I don't know. I felt I just had to help. I felt it wouldn't be right to not check up on you."

"And what an admirable thing you did." The doctor nodded.

His surprise melted into a warm smile, and he raised his hand to tip his hat to me. More thankful than words could say. "...Thank you."

Suddenly he realized. "Oh dear! Where's my manners? My name is Hershel Layton. It's nice to meet you (N)."

I blinked once, then smiled. Must be a gentleman then. I walked closer to the bed, raising a hand out to shake. "Likewise, Hershel."

He seemed pleasantly surprised at the gesture, but returned it all the same.

I was introduced to his parents, and we got to know each other a little bit before the doctor said visitation was up. Hershel promised that he would thank me more formally later, and I attempted to wave it away, just grateful he was alive and well. However, I quickly learned no one's more stubborn when it comes to chivalry than a true gentleman.

After he got out of the hospital we met at a small café, and got to know each other better. We really hit it off and a beautiful friendship was formed.

I even helped tidy up his office when I drove him back to Gressenheller. It took a little bit, but he eventually opened up to me about Claire, and what happened with her. I offered to help, but he declined, saying that saving him from the aftermath of an assault was enough. We grew close, and I learned all his ins and outs. Especially that he struggled with the feeling of loneliness. And I did my best to make sure he never felt lonely as long as I was in England for my studies.

Even after that we kept in touch, sharing every adventure, every twist and turn. He could trust me to keep his secrets, and vice versa. I eventually met Luke in person, and we also grew fond of the other as well. The young boy wrote to me about the town of St. Mystere, Of Folsense, of the fake future England.

Hershel had also called me about Claire. It was a close, private moment, and I made sure to just listen.

Back to the present. Hershel met me walking into the living room, and I had stopped to turn to him.

"Why do you ask?"

He seemed to tense up a little, before taking a big inhale. He slowly let out an exhale, attempting to relax his nerves. He kept his hands to his sides.

"When I found out a complete stranger had saved my life, I was in awe. Quite frankly it was the most pleasant surprise. You know, for a silly, absurd, moment I thought that.. you were an angel sent to me from Claire."

I blushed at his soft earnestness. Chuckling a smidge, glancing down to the floor. "Hershel.. that's.. too sweet of you."

He took a step forward, close to me. He continued. "I'm not finished. When Claire said goodbye, she told me I'll stay strong. And, I have. But.. I wouldn't have gotten this far if you weren't here to help me. Even in the smallest of ways." I smiled small.

Then, glancing down, he hesitantly took my hand in his. That made my heart jump. I looked back up to him. He stared at me with a thoughtfulness. "I know... that Claire would want me to be happy. To find happiness while I'm still here. I've thought long and hard about this for a while, and after being able to properly say goodbye... I think, I know, she'd encourage me to follow my heart. What I'd want..."

At that, a faint dusting of red gently colored his cheeks. I started to blush too, not wanting to believe what my heart was telling me. He brought my held hand up to his chest, flush getting more and more noticeable. "(N), the fact is... Throughout all the times we shared, all the puzzles, all the things we've told each other... All the comfort..."

There's no backing down now.

He took a breath, eyes locked with mine, and told the truth, blush blooming prominently.

"...I've fallen in love with you. And I want to love you. Fully, truthfully. I want you to know that."

My irises widened. He-he just-. He just said-

"...You do?" I responded slowly, eyes glistening. I still can't believe this. My eyes dart across his face.

He lowers our held hands, giving it a gentle squeeze. His free hand going to his heart, clutching his palm. "Yes... And I'm ready, if you feel the same. Do.. do you feel the same?"

I could feel the wetness pricking my eyes. He meant it.

Abruptly I let his hand go, and instead wrapped my arms around his shoulders, almost letting out a cry of relief. He twitched at the sudden contact.

My tears fell. I spoke out loud. Opening my heart. "I love you Hershel. I love you. I never wanted to say... I never thought you'd love me back this way..."

Finally, he let arms wrap around me. A fully reciprocated embrace. He grinned softly into my shoulder. "But I do (N), I do. I had to wrestle with my mind for a while, but I'm certain it's love. And I want to feel this. I want you. You deserve the world, and even if I couldn't give everything I wanted to to Claire... The least I can do is give my everything to you. I think she'd want that."

"Hershel..." I'm breathless.

He gently pushes my shoulders away to meet my eyes. They're shining, but not just because of the happy tears I just shed. His are shining too.

"I love you (N). I love you, for you."

He leans me onto his chest, and I can't help but giggle. "That... Makes me happy."

For a few minutes, this is the embrace we share.

Then I pull away to meet his sight again. I feel myself blush lightly as I bashfully ask an inquiry.

"Um... I don't know if this is asking for too much, but... C-can we kiss?"

Now that makes him blush. He's amorously surprised, and for a few seconds he's stunned. Then he starts to chortle, a playful glint in his eye. "My, aren't you so forward?"

My cheeks practically exploded into red, and I began stuttering. "I-I mean, we don't have to if you don't want to-"

He gently interrupts me by slowly cupping my cheeks with his hands tenderly, and with that action I fall silent in surprise. He speaks fondly, properly answering my question.

"Of course we can. I would love to share a kiss with you."

My jitters melt away at his touch.

We both lean in, and our lips meet.

Sweet. Sweet, tender, loving. He tastes faintly of warm caramel. My heart sang a symphony, and his heart soared to hear it. He couldn't imagine he would ever feel this way again. And yet, here it was. It was real. It was his. And mine.

We depart, and I can see the love in his eyes. I bet he can see the same in mine. I'm not sure which one of us started to giggle, but we both ended up giggling together, just happy. When the giggles die down, he pulls me back in for another kiss, and I happily oblige.

I can't believe it. He loves me. He loves me!

All this time, his feelings grew too...

I think I'm gonna cry again.

But I don't. Instead I drown myself in the soft, plentiful kisses from him, and he enjoys it just as much as I do.

Finally he departs this time, lightly breathy and humming with chuckles. He grins. "Now, what do you say we have some tea after I check your laundry?"

I hold in my laughter. It's always tea or puzzles. "It'd be just lovely Hershel." I slide out of the embrace, and intentionally smirk at him. "And we can share puzzles too."

That makes him beam long and wide. I know him so well.

It's late now. The rain has pittered down to a light spritz. My clothes got dry, and I changed back into them. I make a joke about couples sharing clothes when I hand his back to him, and it gets him pretty flustered. God he's so cute when he's flustered.

Hershel decided to drive me home, and we had light conversation on the way. He finally arrives at my apartment, and for a moment neither of us move.

I unbuckled myself, and glanced over to Layton with a soft smile. "Thank you Hershel. For everything."

He gives the same smile back. "No, thank you. You're the spark I didn't know I needed."

Opening the car door I winked, playfully shooting a finger to him. "A zesty spark!"

He fondly rolls his eyes, watching me stand out of the car. He waves. "Meet you tomorrow love."

I happily sigh internally, and wave back. I shut the door, and he drives off into the night.

I then dreamily sigh out loud. Getting caught in the rain today didn't turn out that bad after all.

Sometime...

It's an early morning. The sun is barely peeking over the horizon.

Hershel Layton was visiting a place he'd barely been to. Well, he's been avoiding it most of the time. Not to say he's never been here, he's visited before.

He holds a bundle of flowers in his hands. Walking up the path, names were hidden in dark blues and greys.

Eventually he stops in front of a certain name.

"Hello Claire."

Carefully he places the flowers down in front of her headstone. He steps back. Then, he speaks, a happier shift in his pupils. He grins, small.

"You were right. I do have another to love. I promise she'll be loved as much as you were."

He bows his top hat out of respect, as another pair of hands sets a bouquet of flowers down.

I step back to join Hershel in solidarity.

As we were, the sun peeks over her headstone, illuminating her resting place.

I smile sadly, but stand tall. My hand intertwines with his. I think out loud for both of us.

"We'll honor you... Always."