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“You’re awfully quiet.“ You say, slipping into the seat opposite from Azul.
It was night-time here in Night Raven college, but the Mostro Lounge was still bustling with activity given the new point-card system the three merfolk set up. Blue and purple light, disoriented with the ripples of water, reflected off of the ground and tables in the otherwise dark lounge. Accompanied by the jazz-adjacent music, it gave the area a classy feeling. Students were clustered at tables across the lounge despite the late hour, no doubt gossiping about this week’s overblot incident that involved Azul himself.
The dorm leader in question sat on the far end of the lounge near a glass wall that separated the sea from Octavinelle, with only a small, untouched charcuterie plate for company, till now at least.
His expression only slightly jumped when you joined him at the table, but quickly melted into his customer service smile.
“Oh? Prefect, to what do I owe the plea-”
“Save it.” you interject, picking up a small toothpick and plucking an olive off the plate in front of him. It was not said unkindly, but final all the same. You’d rather not go through the song and dance of chipping at his persona until you were speaking to him, so, best to nip it in the bud early.
Thank the lady of luck he seemed to get the point, because his smile instantly fell and an almost melancholic expression took his face as he leaned back.
“Forgive me for a polite greeting.” He says dryly and looked the faintest bit unimpressed as you picked another piece off his plate, yet said nothing.
“Don’t you have filing to be doing? Or point-card checking? Or tweel supervising?”
“You’ll find Jade’s perfectly capable of all three.”
“Not Floyd?” you ask, chewing on a grape next, to which he shrugged in reply.
“He’s handling the kitchen, which you’ll find can fix you your own snack-set.“ He says while adjusting his glasses.
“No money.” you reply, eating another olive.
“...Right, so what are you doing here?” he asks.
The taste of the brine remains in your mouth as you cock your head to the side, resting your chin in your hand.
“You’d think you’d know better than to switch the conversation topic on me at this point,” you say with a slight smirk and don’t miss how he retreats a bit in his seat, “and I believe I asked you first, Ashengrotto.”
His eyes leave yours, falling to his plate.
“Listening to the hottest new gossip?” You guess, tilting your head down in an attempt to catch his eye once more, and are met with his eyebrows furrowing as he glances back at you.
“A good businessman remains aware of his reputation.” He replies, sounding a bit offended, but his tone is weak.
“Mhm, but I wonder how good it is for someone only recently recovered from an overblot?” He cringes at the mention before looking away again, and a beat of music plays in the absence of reply.
“I-…I told you that I only wanted to get back at those who ridiculed me,” he starts,
“I wanted to get rid of my old reputation and forge a new one, and now…I believe I might’ve ruined that one as well.”
He looks down at the plate again, before looking back at you. The refractions from the glass could almost make it look like the image of tears on his face, which would have been amusing in any other context than this.
“If it’s any consolation,“ you stab a piece of meat and pop it in your mouth, “any reputation you had before wasn’t the best either.” You say, and he lets out a dry laugh.
“I think those anemone-heads you call friends are getting to you.” He quips back and you laugh.
“You have no idea how insulting that is.” you reply jokingly, and steal another grape.
When you finish chewing, you look back at him to find his eyes already on you.
“What I told you was true, back in the museum,” you say.
“Your diligence is a hard thing to come across, you should at least be proud of that. Besides, Riddle and Leona got gossiped about too, and it went away within two weeks, it’s idle gossip.“
He sighs and looks out the glass at the vast ocean, and the turquoise light shines through his glasses and reflects in his pearl-blue eyes. It was quite pretty honestly, but you’d comment on it another day; one where he didn’t look so sad.
“I suppose you’re right, Prefect.”
“Aren’t I?” you reply, while chewing on cheese and he scoffs in amusement.
“You know,“ he looks back at you, “I…did wish to speak with you.”
“We did. In the museum?” you pluck a grape.
“In private.” he replies and you nearly choke on the fruit.
He pushes his cup of tea towards you amidst your coughing and you drink some to clear your throat.
“Yes Prefect, you needn’t remind me of how our first ‘private’ meeting went, but I don’t intend to swindle your house from you this time,” he says.
You’d expect him to roll his eyes sarcastically, but he looked surprisingly genuine, and serious?
“Well, forgive the reaction,” you reply “what’d you want to talk about?”
There was a gap of silence, the music echoing around the lounge filling it.
Azul looked, bashful? Perhaps that was too strong of a word, but you couldn’t place the expression. It wasn’t one you’d seen him make before.
“I wanted to thank you, Prefect,“ he clears his throat and looks at you, “genuinely thank you.“
Any bit of surprise you feel from those words leaving the Azul Ashengrotto’s mouth aren’t dwelled upon, because he keeps talking.
“I’m well aware of what overblotting can do to a mage, and…I wanted to thank you for helping me regain my senses,“ he hesitates before saying the next part. “Especially when I treated you…underhandedly.”
He looks back at you and his ears, instead of their usual cool-toned pale, are uncharacteristically red at the tips, and his face all the way down to his neck was warmer in colour. Truly, it wasn’t an expression that was familiar to the eye, and you found yourself wanting to reach for the ghost camera.
Just as you decide against it, another idea pops into your head, and suddenly you’re glad you didn’t come with Jack this time.
Your eyes meet briefly before you look down and steal another olive.
“Hmm, I’m not so sure.“
You see Azul jerk slightly at that response from you, and you continue before he can speak.
“Well, I feel as though I’m owed an apology as well. I mean, you did try to steal-“
“Wager” he corrects.
“Whatever–my house from me and Grim. And sabotaged us, and I nearly drowned fighting you.” You rather aggressively stick the toothpick into a piece of meat before eating it.
You feel minutely bad, because his hands flex nervously and his eyes cast downwards at his lap before he speaks.
“You’re…right, Prefect.” He clears his throat, seemingly steeling himself before looking at you again.
“I sincerely apologize for the danger I put you through, from both contract and magic. I should’ve started with that from the begi–“
“Hmm, I still don’t know you know,“ you feint, and see his eyes widen from across the table.
You pick off a grape from the small bunch with the pick and start rolling it around as you continue.
“I think maybe a favour would make me feel better?” and you can’t hide your grin anymore when his expression of hurt changes; his eyes narrow in calculation, and after a minute passes, you have no doubt he’s figured out what you’re trying to do.
“Something in mind?” he replies, tilting his head to the side.
“Well, off the top of my head, a job?” you stab the grape and pop it in your mouth.
He laughs before replying.
“You hardly need a favour for that, we take students all the time.“ He says, and you don’t bat an eye while stealing another cheese wedge.
“I want higher pay.“
“How much?”
“Double.”
“That’s hardly fair to anyone.“
You shrug while chewing.
“It's not fair, it's a favour.”
He sighs while leaning back, but the look on his face is undoubtedly amused. The same light that made him look melancholic before speckled his face and made him look enchanting.
“Do we have an agreement, Ashengrotto?” you ask, looking at him and he meets your eyes with none of the prior hesitation.
“It’s a deal.”
His eyes don’t glow gold when he says the familiar phrase. There’s none of the heaviness spell-cast brings into the air, and no skin prickling magic. You knew he wouldn’t use it because there’s absolutely no collateral, but you feel grateful all the same.
“See you tomorrow then boss.” you say, abandoning the toothpick; content with your (his) late night snack.
Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but, he looks to be in a better mood now. There’s no ominous cloud of guilt and embarrassment hanging over his head.
“I stand corrected,” he chimes and you glance at him.
“Your anemone friends are getting to you. Five days ago you would’ve never entertained the thought of a deal with me.”
“Or maybe a certain cephalopod has grown on me?” you say with a smile.
His eyes leave yours in favour of the sea, but the blue light doesn’t distract from the mild blush on his cheeks.
“-and you’re welcome,“ you add, and he looks back at you.
“You're welcome for saving you, and I accept your apology.”
His eyes soften just a bit and he nods as you stand up to leave.
“By the way, Prefect,” you hear from behind you, “my snack-set is coming out of your first paycheck.”
You freeze mid-step and turn a half-glare towards him. His face is mostly concealed by his fedora, but he turns just enough so you can see the satisfied smirk on his face.
That’s Octavinelle’s Housewarden, always has to get the last laugh in.
“Ha-ha, fine.“ You say dryly, and continue walking but not before snatching the hat from off his head.
“Hey-!”
“You’ll get it back tomorrow Cephy.“ you chuckle and hear him groan.
“That’s an extra ten thaumarks!” he calls, as you walk and put the hat on.
“And you don’t call your boss any stupid nicknames!”
You laugh at the sound of his flustered voice.“Goodnight Azul!”