Chapter Text
Apollo of Ixia had many gripes about Blackmore Academy: the lack of serious academic diligence by his peers, the cafeteria menu being both bland and repetitive, and the stuffy tie he had to wear everyday. The tie was by far the worst offender in his opinion, it was stiff and took weeks to get used to. But he would be arrogant to not admit the school had its upsides: fencing, chemistry, and the library! It was no coincidence that when Graves mentioned that the two of them would need to meet up to work on chemistry projects Apollo had brought up the library immediately. It was always so barren and silent, especially after school, Apollo had loved the space and the quiet that accompanied it.
Of course introducing his comfort zone to his lab partner had seemed like a genuine mistake at the time as every Wednesday and Friday the two of them would bicker over anything and everything. It took months for the two of them to get along somewhat reasonably. Personally, Apollo was glad the two of them formed something resembling friendship, it meant labs went smoother, study time was more productive, and he wouldn’t have to beg the librarian to not ban the both of them ever again. That day was one of his worst and he would never like to experience a modicum of it for as long as he lives.
Despite all of that, the library had remained his favorite place and he slowly began looking forward to each Wednesday and Friday more and more. Today the two of them sat across from one another, ending their week by completing their chemistry homework that went over moles. It was a confusing concept but he was glad Graves was here, company eased the burden of learning in his experience. Which is why it was very alarming to him that she was beginning to pack her things up 45 minutes earlier than she usually would. He cleared his throat and she looked up at him, midway through putting her textbook in her bag.
“You’re leaving.”
“Very astute Apollo.”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance, “Yes but it’s 3:45 and you typically only start packing to leave at 4:30.”
Graves stared at him before turning to look back at the clock, then looking back at him.
“Why do you-” It was her turn to now rub the bridge of her nose as she sighed, “What is the point of this Apollo? Why does it matter if I leave early?”
He crossed his arms, tail swaying in annoyance, “I’m just curious Graves, no need to make a mountain out of a mole hill.”
She scoffed, shoving the rest of her things into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder.
“That’s coming from you of all people.” She gave a theatrical sigh, “I suppose I can settle the curiosity of the prince of Ixia-”
“Not a prince-”
“I have to go to theatre club, we’re preparing for the play next weekend so I need to be there early.”
Apollo was shocked, he thought all Graves did besides going to school was hang around various cemeteries. He did have to admit that of all the clubs in the school, theatre was the one which suited her the finest.
“You’re in theatre club!? Since when!?”
“Since before you came to this school, how did you not know that? It’s one of the few things people know me for.”
“Am I supposed to know what you do in your free time? I recall the last time I inquired about your personal life you told me to ‘piss right off.’”
Graves huffed in annoyance at that, “Since when do you actually listen to what I say?”
Apollo smirked, “The moment it became useful to throw right back into your face.”
Graves rolled her eyes and stood up, “Right, of course, I should’ve expected no less. See you around Apollo.”
Apollo resisted the urge to get the last word in and gave a noncommittal wave as she went to leave. Just as she was beginning to go she stopped right next to Apollo.
“Oh and heads up, won’t be showing up on Wednesday or Friday next week because of this. Hope you don’t mind going solo for the time being.”
And with that she walked away with a wave.
Apollo pretended to not feel dejected at the idea of not spending those afternoons with her.
—
Apollo ended up staying in the library much longer than usual, he figured he might as well study farther ahead so it’d be easier to catch Graves up when this play business was over. Apollo figured she wouldn’t do much studying on her own without him there to keep her in line. But eventually the sun had set and the librarian was glaring at Apollo from across the library. Clearly the older man wanted to close down for the night so Apollo took that as his cue to leave, giving the old man a polite wave as he left. The walk to the dormitory was short and pleasant, especially now that fall had set in with the cool air that came with it blanketing New York. The loud crunch of leaves beneath his feet gave his stride a crisp and satisfactory melody. Apollo eventually made it to his dormitory and entered the lobby. Before he could make it to the elevator the community board caught his eye. Right in the middle sat a flyer.
Much Ado About Nothing
It was for the play, the one Graves was part of. Apollo stood there for a beat before looking to his sides and over his shoulder for good measure. After confirming no one was around he yanked the flyer off the board, rolling it up and tucking it under his arm before making his way to the elevator. After getting to his floor Apollo hurried down the hall and quickly unlocked his door. Only after closing and locking the door did he unravel it and begin to read it. All it had on it was the dates and times for the showings but at least now he knew more beyond just Graves being in it. He did recognize the name of the play from when he was learning about human culture when he was preparing to go to Blackmore. If he recalled correctly this play was made by the same man who made the one he saw with his father sometime ago, Macbeth was the name of it if he recalls properly. Either way he hopes the play Blackmore was putting on wasn’t half as dark and tragic as that play was, he could use with less reminders of home. Graves would probably enjoy something as dark as that but Apollo doubts she solely decided which play the club was performing. Regardless of how dark the play may or may not be, Apollo was genuinely curious now. He looked down at the flyer in his hands and committed the dates to his memory before tossing it on his desk. He debated marking it on his calendar as well but deemed it to be unnecessary.
By the time he had finally gone to bed the dates for the play had been jotted down on both his calendar and his day planner, just to be safe.
—
Before Apollo had known it the weekend had come and gone and the following school week proceeded in typical fashion, sans being able to study with Graves. It was odd how much her absence in the library was notable to him when just a few months ago he would’ve certainly celebrated if such a thing happened. He personally wants to chalk it up to Stockholm Syndrome but he knows that’s not entirely honest or reasonable. The idea of admitting he missed spending time with her, even to himself, felt like admitting defeat. So to say Apollo was glad today was the end of the week would be quite accurate. It meant the play showings would be done by the start of next week and things would go back to normal. He doubted Graves would feel a similar way, she was likely dreading when they both would start meeting up again. The hazards of enjoying the company of someone who enjoys no company he muses.
Well whatever happens is a problem for Wednesday, as of now Apollo was tucked into the back of the school's theatre watching the play. He was rolling the stem of a rose in between his fingers. Said rose was for Graves as he had heard of the tradition of giving flowers to those who acted in plays. Problem was he didn’t know if Graves was actually playing a role, so one flower seemed like a reasonable thing to give to her whether she acted or not. Better to have it and not need it than needing it and not having it.
Speaking of the play, the atmosphere seemed a lot lighter than what he was expecting. Apollo wouldn’t be letting his guard down until the play ended however. Playwrights back home just loved to sneak in some terrible tragedy at the end, especially ones centered around romance like this one. He really liked the character Beatrice, she seemed very similar to Graves down to the confidence and creative insults. He felt himself wondering why she wasn’t playing the role, surely it wouldn’t require much effort from his lab partner. Perhaps there was another role that suited her better? The entire play he continued to think about how she would do so well in the role, how she should be up on stage right now instead of the girl who currently was. No doubt she would certainly do a better job.
It was a sentiment he dropped at the end of the play when both Beatrice and Benedick kissed. He was oddly glad she wasn’t in the role and found that the idea of her kissing someone formed strange knots in his stomach. Perhaps today's lunch was bad enough to be the source? That was the only clear explanation.
The claps that rang out as the play concluded snapped him out of his thoughts. Right, he was just here to watch the play and satisfy his curiosity, nothing more.
—
After the applause ended Apollo made his way out of the auditorium and stood with the crowd as those who acted in the play came out for a second applause, greeting those who came to watch. Apollo did not see Graves. The stage crew eventually came out and Apollo still had yet to see Graves, although he was willing to wait for a while longer. The crowd thinned as people began to leave but he stayed put, scanning the crowd for a head of white hair. The crowd continued to shrink until he was alone and only at that point did he think she must’ve not been present for the play at all. If she was willing to skip chemistry what would stop her from skipping a play she wasn’t even acting in?
With a huff and a refusal to be disappointed, Apollo made his way to one of the side exits. He unfortunately had to be mindful of his reputation, the heir of North Ixia couldn’t be seen standing around with a rose after the play only to leave through the front doors alone with said rose still in hand. The drawbacks of his reputation typically never outweighed the positives, so he wouldn’t start complaining as of now.
Pushing past the doors of some random side exit, Apollo was hit with the cold fall air along with the familiar sweet smell of burning cloves. Apollo took a deep inhale of the smell before heading towards where he thought it was coming from. There was only one person in this school he knew who smoked cloves. Turning around a corner of the building he noticed a figure sitting on a bench pressed against the wall smoking a cigarette with a full head of white hair, Darcy Graves. Well, looks like he can get rid of this damned flower after all.
Apollo began to make his way towards her, making great effort to let the crunch of the leaves that covered the school grounds give him away. Graves glanced towards him, halfway through the motion of snubbing the cigarette out until she noticed who he was and promptly slotted it back between her lips. She grabbed her bag as he got closer and moved it to the ground, giving him room to sit without him needing to ask whatsoever. He took advantage of her unusually good manners and took a seat next to her. They sat for a moment, listening to the trees sway in the wind along with the distant sounds of the New York night.
“So,” he started, still absentmindedly twirling the rose in between his fingers, “Why weren’t you with everyone else during the reception at the end?”
She chuckled before finally snubbing the cigarette out. “Not a fan of big crowds, something I try to avoid if possible. I thought you of all people would’ve put that together.” She tapped her chin with a lone finger, “I suppose you’re not as smart as they say Apollo.”
He scoffed, “I just assumed the club you voluntarily joined would be an exception.”
She smiled, “Well you know what they say about assuming-”
“‘It makes an ass out of you and me!’ Yes, yes you’re always so eager to remind me anytime I use that word!”
She snickered into her palm, “Maybe you shouldn’t use that word so much, unless you want me to keep calling you an ass. Should I start calling you Dogberry from now on?”
Apollo gasped, “Do not attempt to compare me to that character! Dogberry was a fool who was followed by loyal idiots!”
Graves went to pat his shoulder, “Apollo I know you’ve only been outside of Ixia for a few months but here in New York you’re supposed to support your side of the argument, not mine.”
Apollo sat there flustered and stammering, having trouble finding a coherent retort. Did he really come to her play and track her down just to have her run verbal laps around him?
He was very tempted to keep the stupid flower now.
Graves finally calmed down from her laughter and wiped a tear from her eye.
“Didn’t expect you to get so flustered so quickly! I should’ve resorted to calling you stupid earlier this year if it gets you this worked up!”
“Graves…”
She patted him on his shoulder placatingly, “Alright Apollo alright, you’re nothing like Dogberry.”
He turned towards her and raised an eyebrow, “Really?”
She made an X over her heart, “Cross my heart.”
He slumped back against the wall and crossed his arms, deciding to take her at her word, “Good.”
He let her continue to laugh to herself as he worked his tail, swaying it back and forth in an attempt to expel his frustration. When she finally calmed down he stuck the rose out with a stiff arm.
“This is for you.”
She looked at the rose like it was the most curious thing in the world, “What for?”
He drew his eyes towards the flower, “You said you were part of the play last week and I didn’t know if you’d be acting or not but I heard it was customary to give flowers to actors after a play and I didn’t want to come empty handed.”
She reached out and gently took the rose from him, “You and I both know I wouldn’t be able to act.”
He flicked his eyes back towards her, “I think you could’ve played Beatrice if you put your mind to it, you’re very alike.”
It was her turn to look at him and he never really noticed how many different tones of green hid within her eyes up until now. After staring at him for a few beats she looked back to the rose and asked, “How so?”
He continued to look at her, she had the look of someone who expected to hear something rude but all too hopeful she’d hear something kinder instead. He knew which option he felt compelled to lean towards.
“Well,” he began, “You both are very firm but kind, you show care towards those who need it, you possess a sharp vocabulary and you’re-” beautiful. Apollo felt his blood flow to his cheeks, clearly he had gotten too passionate. He cleared his throat, “Well I believe I’ve covered quite enough, I'm sure you get the point.”
They sat there for a few moments in silence, with Graves spinning the rose between her fingertips and Apollo twisting his signet ring while glancing her way here and there. Finally, after what felt like an hour to Apollo but could more accurately be described as two minutes, the softest smile he had ever seen crept onto her face.
“I think it just occurred to me that this is a black rose. Perhaps you do pay attention Apollo.”
He crossed his arms, feigning his usual confidence, “I never do half measures Graves, only full ones.”
She smiled again and he felt like he wanted to chase that for the rest of his life. He’d move mountains if it was just to see that sight once more. “I think I really mean it now when I say you’re nothing like Dogberry.”
Apollo raised an eyebrow but let her continue, “I think you’re like Benedick.”
“Benedick?”
She gave a hum of approval, “Swordsman, sense of honor, has a big heart under the barbed words and layers of smarm.”
She nodded, like she was confirming it with herself. Like it was no different than when she would double check his equations during labs.
Apollo hadn’t really thought of the comparison but it wasn’t one he could exactly argue with. He was similar to the character now that he thought of it. His mind went back to the end of the play, where he was once conflicted by the idea of her kissing someone else he now thought of something entirely different. He thought of himself opposite of her, dressed for a play and leaning in for a shared kiss. The thought was as dangerous as it was appetizing and Apollo did not think he could handle feeling that way while sitting next to the girl. He was suddenly very glad his skin was a deep red, it probably prevented his lab partner from seeing him get so flustered. He hoped so at the very least. Apollo steadied himself with a deep breath and willed his tail still before brushing invisible dust off his knees and standing with a faux confidence that he wore daily.
“Well Graves,” he began, “I do need to get going but it has been lovely chatting with you.”
She nodded towards him with an easy grin, “It was surprisingly nice Apollo, I’ll see you Monday.”
He nodded back, “I’ll see you then.”
He turned to leave, only making it a few steps before hearing her once more, “Golden Boy!”
Apollo stopped and glanced back at her before she spoke again, “Thank you.”
What for exactly? He didn’t know but he wasn’t brave enough to stay and learn, not tonight at least.
He allowed himself to smile before responding, “Of course, Darcy.”
It was only then did he turn and continue to leave, unaware of the joy that filled her eyes.
Later that night he would dream of the city of Messina, where he would fall for a lady named Darcy.
The next morning the flyer he stole last week found itself taped to his door and he found himself more interested in theatre from then on, especially plays put on by Blackmore.