#.hm. my imagination is doing a lot of the heavy lifting (and wish fulfilling) with nuca

[coeurdastronaute]

Essays in Existentialism: Stud 9

Previously on Stud

“It’s been awhile.” 

“Near a decade?” 

“Well there was that convention in Prague. Maybe six, seven years ago?” 

“And the reunion at the Hargrove Estate.” 

“The presentations in Oslo?” 

“I think… I think that was right around when m mom--” Lexa furrowed as she tried to place the time that seemed to slip away from them. “I guess Prague was the last time.” 

“Five years then,” her old friend from college nodded thoughtfully. “Time is a dangerous thing. I hate it.” 

The lounge was intimate, dimly lit and clean, freshly modeled despite being an ancient and ritzy institution in its own right. Dark woods were illuminated by soft lights, large paintings covered the walls in dark gold frames. The chairs were velvet and the drinks were perfectly crafted from the best labels. The clamor of the familiar crowd in suits and ties and diamonds and dresses was just a murmur behind their secluded table 

Maggie James hadn’t changed a bit, just matured into a fulfilled version of herself, or so Lexa liked to imagine. She still had deep brown eyes and a heart-shaped face. Still had a soft smile. Her hair was cut shorter now, above the shoulders and wavy. Her demeanor was more assured, more herself, than the unsure girl in college, or even the graduate assistant at a presentation in Prague. 

“I have to say, I hadn’t expected to hear from the CFO of one of the largest companies on the planet after reading my lowly article and research.” 

“I don’t know about lowly,” Lexa smiled after sipping her drink. “I thought it was a good article. And your research was thorough.” 

“I just observe and postulate. Those other companies were the ones doing the hard part.” 

She was naturally demure. Maggie was not someone who had to work for a living. Her family owned an ancient merchant conglomerate and she was vaguely related to a Kennedy and a Duke or something. And though she had her phases, Lexa remembered her from school as someone who wanted to do her own thing. She didn’t cut up her black card, but she sure didn’t care to rely simply by biding her time. Lexa always liked that. 

They hadn’t been especially close, just gravitated to similar circles and were in the same degree program, naturally leading to an affiliation that boarded somewhere between acquaintances who knew too much and friends with no actual ties. 

The real surprise had been when Maggie actually returned the phone call Lexa gave after a few weeks of obsessing over the research and generally annoying her girlfriend with facts and tidbits, filling up a notebook with her own questions, ideas, and things she’d read. She’d garnered a lot of attention with her article and research. It almost wasn’t worth it for her to return the call of a somewhat acquaintances, somewhat friend that she hadn’t seen or heard from in upwards of six years. But Lexa’s last name was on buildings in almost ever major city, and regardless, she got a return call. 

“I did call you about the article, but also to catch up,” Lexa promised. 

“And remember those good times in college?” 

“We did have a few of those, didn’t we?” she grinned, looking over her glass, earning a shaking head and heavy sigh and smile. 

“Much to my girlfriend’s chagrin.” 

“You actually told her some stories?” Maggie raised her eyebrows and chuckled. “And she let you come tonight?” 

“Encouraged it actually. She’s sick of hearing me rave about your work and research. I’m allowed to have an intellectual crush on you, and that’s it.” 

“She’s a saint.” 

“You have no idea,” Lexa agreed and signaled for another round. “Last I heard, you were engaged to some Lockeridge. Didn’t work out?” 

Maggie held up her hand and wiggled an empty ring finger. 

“He didn’t particularly care that I was interested in anything other than the usual marriage retirement activities like kids and needlepoint or whatever.” 

“A shame.” 

“I heard you decided to go outside of the pool or acceptables,” Maggie shrugged. “I only have a few questions: How, and how did your father take it?” 

“You know my dad. He wouldn’t know acceptable if it shook his hand. He actually adores Clarke. And it was sheer luck. She just happened to be best friends with a mechanic I use to fix up old cars.” 

“Kismet.” 

“How did your parent’s take the loss of a Lockeridge hyphenation?” 

“Mom went into full mourning, black outfits for a week and three weeks in Italy,” Maggie recited as Lexa laughed. “Dad complained about his lost deposits on venues.” 

“And now?” 

“Now, I research sustainable and ethical management in corporations.” 

“I meant--”

“I don’t even own a car, so I haven’t run into any mechanics, and I was almost hoping you’d broken up with your saint and that’s why you’d called.”

“It actually our three year anniversary next month.” 

“Disgusting. You’re buying the drinks.” 

They both shared a smile and shook their heads, amused at themselves and the situation of their lives, both wondering how they hadn’t taken the time to be better friends, although a few drunken make outs had certainly ended any hopes of that back then. 

“I’m assuming you want to talk to me about the article and your company?” 

“I was having fun catching up, but I take sex off the table and now you’re all business.” 

“I know your time is valuable, and I don’t want you to think you have to waste it catching up,” she explained, leaving Lexa slightly baffled. 

“Your time is valuable too, and honestly, I am kind of having fun catching up. I kind of fell out with the old gang after Mom.” 

“I heard you did the falling.” 

“Probably,” Lexa nodded in agreement as she swapped out her empty glass for a new one. “I worked myself raw for three years straight.”

“But you still hear some of the rumblings from the old guard?” 

“Some. Care to fill me in on more before I proposition you?” 

“Intellectually?” 

“Strictly.” 

Maggie took a large sip from her drink and eyed the girl across from her, at ease and amused at their conversation, ever charming and wildly sexy without even meaning to do it, Lexa was someone who made her attention feel like nothing else mattered, and anyone would want to be within her company to experience it. All were welcome, but it was a blessing to hold her focus for an extended period of time, in any capacity. Maggie remembered making out with her in the bathroom of a club. She remembered making out with her at a party on the Lower East Side. She remembered Lexa’s messy waves, leather jacket, and fiery eyes that remained, even a decade later. But they weren’t for her anymore, and she was alright with the disappointment if it meant working with her. 

“Did you know Emma Hunton-Blather?” 

“Not biblically.” 

“I wouldn’t imagine so. She’s an ultra-religious mommy blogger now.” 

“Yikes,” Lexa winced. 

“And Francine Christenson already divorced twice.” 

“I think I saw one of those.” 

The evening was easy. The drinks flowed and the two caught up with their previous acquaintances. Lexa was grateful that it was going well considering how nervous she was about approaching an almost stranger. 

The drinks kept coming and before she could talk shop, Lexa was drunk and just enjoyed having fun.

XXXXXXXXX

“I love her.” 

“Oh god, not this again,” Clarke groaned, rolled over, and tugged the pillow with her over her head. 

“Not like I love you. I just am fascinated by her research.” 

“Is that what you call her boobs?” 

“Oh no,” Lexa shook her head, wobbling slightly as she plunked down on the edge of the bed and began awkwardly tugging off her shoes. “I can’t even seen boobs that aren’t yours boobs. I am boob-blind now.”

Despite herself, Clarke smiled at her drunken girlfriend. It wasn’t often that she came out, and when Drunk Lexa did, she often enjoyed it. There wasn’t any jealousy against Maggie James, just that Clarke liked a little more attention than she was getting with this new project. She also wished this old project hadn’t made out with her girlfriend, but that was neither here nor there. She’d feel the same way if Lexa was obsessed with recycling. She’d hate it and vote for global warming to make her stop fixating. 

Before she could finish with her shoes, Lexa flopped backwards, fully clothed and half on the bed. 

“Clarke. Hey, are you sleeping?” 

“No, darling. I’m up.” 

“I wish I’d never made out with Maggie, because I think we could have been have friends.”

“Good. Keep not making out with her and you can be.” 

“Ahhhh,” Lexa pointed at Clarke and laughed before letting her arm fall back down. 

“Plus, you could use more friends.” 

“Nah. I don’t.” 

“You do.” 

Clarke moved, putting the book she’d fallen asleep reading on the night stand and moving her way around the bed to help the pitiful thing that couldn’t get undressed. She stayed at Lexa’s strictly because it meant sloppy drunk needy Lexa. She also expected her about two hours earlier. 

“You need more friends. It’s good to have them.” 

“I have Gus,” Lexa listed, counting on her fingers as her girlfriend tugged off her shoes for her. “And Aden, and Anya, and Dad, and Indra, and um. And Maggie. And, um… uh…” 

“Only one of those are age appropriate, not related to you, and not salaried.” 

“And you! You’re my best friend. Who needs more than that?” 

She didn’t mean to, but Clarke smiled at that as she moved to unbutton Lexa’s shirt, earning a smile and laugh despite already closed eyes. 

“Oh, are you getting me naked, Ms. Griffin? Naughty naughty.” 

“How much did you drink?” 

“A little bit.” 

Clarke just shook her head and pulled Lexa up so she could pull off the shirt. She moves to the pants next, instructing her to lift her butt so she could tug them off. Lexa remained fairly still as Clarke searched for a spare shirt for her to sleep in. 

“Hey, hey, Clarke. Hey,” Lexa called in a whisper. 

“Hm?” 

“You really are my best friend.” 

Clarke smiled, her cheeks growing warm as she slid the shirt over the drunk’s arms and head, careful not to poke an eye or pull hair. Tenderly, she got a rag from the bathroom and wiped her face as best she could, earning almost purrs of contentment with the treatment. 

“Are you ready for me to fuck you?” Lexa ventured, wiggling her eyebrows. “I’ve been thinking about it all night.” 

“You’re drunk.”

“And you’re beautiful.” Clarke pushed her girlfriend’s shoulders so that she fell back in bed easily. “Perfect. You can be on top.” 

“Get under the covers. It’s time for bed.” 

“Fine, but you should know that I am a good lay.” 

“I’m aware,” Clarke grinned as Lexa climbed in obediently. 

“I’m like really good at giving you orgasms. And you seem to like them.” 

“Oh, I do. But I’m tired and you’re drunk.”

“Those are two true facts,” Lexa nodded and yawned, rolling into her usual spot. Her arm was held open until Clarke joined her in bed. 

The lights off and the pair finally ready for bed, Clarke snuggled into her spot and felt Lexa’s warmth, enjoying the feeling of having her back. 

“Hey Lex?” Clarke whispered as arms held her tightly. 

“Change your mind about sex?” Lexa returned. “I’m still down.” 

“No. I just wanted to tell you that you’re my best friend, too.” 

“Good.” 

Her arms pulled tighter and Lexa kissed Clarke’s shoulder before falling into a very contented drunken slumber. 

XXXXXXXXX

Lexa loved her office. She loved that it was quiet and that even though she had taken a smaller role in th day to day operations, it was still there for her to work, uninterrupted and unimpeded. She loved her desk. She loved her view. She loved the certainty that came behind sitting her name plate, as if it told her who she was. There was a certain power that she took from it all. 

“Thanks for coming down,” Lexa offered as Maggie took a seat across from her desk. “I think i forgot to explain what interested me most about your research at drinks the other night.” 

“Yeah I think the fourth round of whisky made it a little difficult to keep track of complex ideas.” 

“I had a good time.” 

“Me too.” 

“My girlfriend let me know that I need more friends. The problem being that I don’t particularly like or trust most people.” 

“Or you’re too busy to put the effort into it. I get it. Trust me,” Maggie nodded, relaxing slightly as Anya brought in some coffee and placed it between them. “Thank you.” 

“I was told that all my friends work for me or are related to me,” Lexa explained as she sipped her coffee. “And even though I would consider us friends, or potentially friends. I want to hire you.” 

“I already have a job.” 

“Yes, but I have lots of money.” 

Maggie snorted at that, smiling, amused at Lexa’s candor. 

“I have lots of money too.” 

“I knew you would say that. I also knew that there wasn’t much I could offer you to sway you away from a fun research and doctoral position at a great university. I’m sure you find teaching rewarding.” 

Lexa stood from her desk and grabbed a folder from the corner, carefully looking it over in her hands. 

“The interesting thing I found in your report was that you were advocating for a system that not one single major corporation would even contemplate putting into existence.” 

“I’m sure some--”

“Free housing? College tuition? Four day work weeks? Work from home? Private insurance? Officer salary cuts? Who in there right mind is going to do that?” 

“I thought you were interested in my research.” 

“I am. Because my job was killing me. And I have a hypothesis for you.”

“I think that’s my job.” 

“You haven’t accepted yet,” Lexa reminded her as she leaned against the front of her desk. “If I implement your suggestions, will I not hate my job anymore?” 

“There’s no way for me to measure that.” 

“True. Will I feel better if we are a more ethical and knowledgeable company?” 

“Yes.” 

“Will we turn a profit?” 

“According to my data, yes. Although the scale of your business,” Maggie shook her head. “I wouldn’t even know where to start hypothesizing on when.” 

“Hypothetically,” Lexa continued, smiling at how easy it was to get her interested. “What would you need to start testing your hypothesis? In real time. At this company.” 

There was a quiet that settled as Maggie stared at the CFO. Long and tall, Lexa crossed her arms over her chest, the mystery folder tucked under her arm. Her shirt was folded precisely up to her elbow, her collar pressed and pointy, her glasses perched perfectly and her hair coiffed with enough effort to look like it wasn’t trying at all. She didn’t betray a thought though. 

“Off the top of my head, I’d need access to everything. I’d need months of internal research and auditing, plus at least a handful of accountants and assistants. I don’t think you understand what you’re asking.” 

“I do.” 

“You can’t.” 

“In this folder,” Lexa grinned, and held it in front of her friend. “Is one of our middling branches based in London. I want to give it to you.” 

“A company?” 

“Kind of. I want you to hire your team. I want you to help me implement your changes. I want to create a better world. I had to think of something that no one else could give you, to entice you. Is it working?” 

“Consider me enticed,” Maggie nodded, slowly accepting the folder and flipping it open, her mouth slightly agape. 

The buzzer on Lexa’s desk sounded and she pushed off, walking back to her chair. 

Ms. Woods, the car is here to take you to the airport. 

“Thanks, Anya. Give me a few more minutes.” 

“Going somewhere?” 

“Three year anniversary weekend,” Lexa smiled. “I had a bit of a rough year last year, but it’s all coming back around.” 

“You are incredibly good at multitasking. You’re pitching me while planning an epic event and doing how many other things.” 

“Take the week to think about it. Everything you need is in that folder.” 

“I’m going to need more than a fifteen minute meeting with yout see if this is even for real.”

“It’s real,” Lexa promised. “We can figure everything else out together, when you accept.” 

“If.” 

“I’ve been told I’m very persuasive. Take the week. I’ll be back next Tuesday and we can talk more then, if you’d like.” 

“I thought maybe a consultation, but this is…” Maggie shook her head and stared at the folder before shutting it quickly. “Hell of a friend.” 

“Come on, I’ll walk with you out,” Lexa offered as she grabbed her bag. 

XXXXXXXXXX

The ranch was still slightly visible in the sunset, the timing only slightly off with their arrival for the romantic weekend escape. Tall pines and cedars eclipsed it while the mountains stood tall and purple in the distance against a firestorm of clouds in the fading summer light. The cabin was one of her favorite places on the planet, and she couldn’t think of anywhere more secluded and perfect to hide away from the world with her beautiful girlfriend to celebrate three absolutely life-changing years. 

“I would have been happy with just a hotel room downtown,” Clarke chided as she entered the giant house. “This is too much.” 

“I figured it was a good excuse to use this place. It’s been years since I’ve been out,” Lexa explained as she dropped their bags in the foyer. 

She made sure everything was stocked and prepared and the staff wouldn’t be around. The caretakers didn’t mind a week off, and she was just excited to be away from the city and back somewhere quiet. 

“Is this the ranch your mom liked?” 

“Yeah, she’d make us spend a lot of spare time out here.” 

“I can see why. It’s beautiful.” 

“She designed it. Found an old hunting lodge and decided to convert it to a modern home. It was her labor of love.” 

“Thank ou,” Clarke smiled and hugged her girlfriend before kissing her cheek. “Show me around.” 

Lexa wasn’t particularly good at feeling so good, but she’d been excited and planned everything for the past month. So she took Clarke by the hand and showed her the grand room, the high ceiling and giant windows that looked out at the trees and the mountains as far as the eye could see. The fireplace was already roaring and inviting, but she took her toward the pool and hot tub area that went from outside to inside. She excitedly told her stories about being a kid, and all the stuff her and Aden would do. 

By the time they made it to the bedroom she wanted, Clarke flopped onto the bed and gave up trying to figure out where she was in the maze of a house. 

“So we get this whole place to ourselves for the next few days?” Clarke asked as Lexa gracefully slid beside her in the giant bed. 

“Mhm, so go ahead and just take your clothes off now. I actually should have told you that at the door.” 

“But I brought very cute lacy things you like me to wear.” 

“Oh, wait, yeah,” Lexa nodded eagerly. “That’s all you can wear.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“I’m yours.” 

“And sappy.” 

“Incredibly.” 

But it was perfect, and Lexa didn’t care that her girlfriend was mocking her. She leaned forward and kissed her. She pressed Clarke into the bed and went about the task of celebrating. 

XXXXXXXXXX

“I need you to carb up because I have a few more things planned for you,” Lexa explained as she reached forward and took another slice of pizza. 

“Shut up.” 

“I mean it. Dad keeps the W stored in the garage and I have waited three years to--”

“You can’t be serious,” Clarke laughed and shook her head, pressing her palm over her chest with how amusing she found it. 

They were tangled in the sheets. They were tired and sated and happy and now nearly full from the dinner of pizza and beer. 

“That’s the real reason I decided to come here,” Lexa grinned. “The romantic, candlelight bath and fireplaces, and privacy were all a ruse. You’ve been ruse-d.” 

“I can’t believe I’ve kept you around for three years.” 

“Me neither.” 

“I should get a medal.” 

“I agree completely,” Lexa decided as she hopped up from the bed. “Wait right there.” 

Nearly tripping over herself, the CFO took the corner out of the room so quickly, Clarke was certain she hit the wall. The sound of padding bare feet could be heard in the bed, and for the life of her, Clarke wasn’t sure why it made her fall a little more in love, if that were even possible. 

In a flash, Lexa returned, hopping into the bed, quick to hide whatever was in her hands. 

“This was supposed to be a year of no gifts,” Clarke chided. 

“I’m terrible at following directions. I don’t know if you knew that or not yet, but it’s a harsh truth you should start to understand.” 

“You should listen to me.” 

“I should,” she nodded and held out a velvet box. “I’ll start tomorrow.” 

Clarke eyed her girlfriend warily and frowned at the blatant lie. But Lexa shrugged and smiled, nudging her to open the box. 

“Oh, Lex, this is…”

The keychain was a tiny logo of Lexa’s company. It was plain and simple and cost exactly $2.95, and now it was dangling from Clarke’s finger as she furrowed and smiled at it despite all else because it was certainly not what she was expecting. 

“It’s too much. You shouldn’t have.” 

“You deserve the best,” Lexa explained, scooting closer. “Last time we did this, I wasn’t read. You weren’t ready. It wasn’t right. But now...I think it’s right. I think I want to be with you all of the time. I want to come home from business trips and see you. I want to cook dinner together. I want to sleep with you every night. I want to live together.” 

Her hair was a mess, and when she was nervous, she talked with her hands. Clarke watched the entire thing without moving a muscle, because she might scare Lexa if she did. Instead, she looked at the key chain in her palm and listened. 

“You’ve been making a lot of moves lately, Woods.” 

“Well, the girl I love keeps pushing me to do better.” 

“What if you get sick of me?” 

“I won’t.” 

“What if I get sick of you?” 

“We’ll get a big place, so you can ignore me when I bug you,” Lexa promised. 

“You’re ready for this?” Clarke asked, giving her a hard look. 

“Very. Are you?” 

“Very.” 

Before she could say anything else, Lexa launched herself at her, and Clarke was tackled and kissed happily.

NEXT

[potentiallymrsdevorak]

The Defender

Pairing: Julian x Nijah (my female apprentice!)

Genre: Angsty Fluff?

Word Count: 1820

Author’s Note: Hi uh warning, this fic does talk about an overdose of poison so if that is not up your alley don’t read! I tagged it tw: poison and tw: attempted suicide just in case. I’m excited to post my first Arcana fic, I’ve been working on it for quite a bit! This is set after Book VII, after the chapter “Dock Talk.” Please enjoy!

Julian’s original intention was to drink the day away. Even as he woke, he was gravely upset about the events that transpired the night before, and felt that wasting his time in the bars would be the only cure for his loneliness. He knew it was for the best for both of them, but he would never forget Nijah’s face when he ended it all.

“You won’t do that to me.”

“Trust me, I will absolutely hurt you.”

He would regret leaving her for the rest of his life. Besides, he might not have much of it left anyway.

He headed off to the Raven, the sound of folk music in his ears and taste of salty bitters running down his throat. But, as he strolled along the streets of Vesuvia, he suddenly found himself in the last place he wanted to be.

Nijah and Asra’s shop.

He wanted to open the door. He wanted to apologize for potentially breaking her heart. He wanted to take her in his arms and never, ever let her go. He wanted to have a future with her, to give her everything she could ever imagine, ever deserve.

But he loathed himself more than his desires to fulfill her dreams.

“No,” he muttered under his breath. “She doesn’t need someone like you in her life.”

He marched past the shop, not even sparing it a passing glance. But as he walked further away, something stopped him in his tracks. He wasn’t sure if it was her magic, or a red string of fate, or an unknown force...but his mind couldn’t control his body, feeling himself walk back to the front door of the shop. If anything, he at least needed to see her once more after last night.

Timidly, he knocked on the door. Once, twice, three times.

A brief pause, yet only silence greeted him.

Odd...he thought when no one opened the door. Pulling out his spare key (the one he promised he would give back), he unlocked the door, hearing the heavy creak as it allowed him entrance inside the shop. As he took one step in, his eyes scanned the room, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Along the shelves, the shop counter, the curtains leading to the back room...until his eyes found her resting on the floor, books lying around her.

The doctor smiled as he got down on his knees. She must have fallen asleep after working so hard, he assumed. “Ah, good morning, Nijah.”

He rested his hand on her bare shoulder. Once his skin touched her, he noticed how inordinately warm she felt. And how she didn’t even stir at the brush of his hand.

Something was terribly wrong.

“No...Nijah!”

He shook her limp body, praying for something, anything to help her. Dammit...he slammed his fist in the floor desperately. He looked frantically around the shop, hoping to find something to help her wake up once more. His eyes trailed over her figure once more, the one he was just beginning to know, and noticed a flower was trapped in between her loose fingers.

He plucked it from her hand hastily, taking in it’s sight and aroma. “Hemlock.” And a lot of it, too. Little bushels of the poisonous plant were strewn out along the floor, as if they were dropped by their carrier. As he stared at the book titles, he realized they were novels on deadly plants, animals, foods...she really must have wanted to end things quickly, but why?

His chest wrenched at the thought of her wanting to take her own life. Was it something he said? Oh goodness, he would hate himself if he was the cause of it. Did something happen to her that she was hiding from him? Oh hells, he thought, Asra didn’t try to hurt her, did he?

Regardless of her reasoning, Julian knew what he had to do. He just wasn’t sure if he had the time.

He lifted Nijah from the floor, carrying her like a groom taking his bride through the threshold for the first time. In a rush, he kicked open the door to the shop, not even thinking of locking it back up before Asra could have returned. And as he ran through the crowded, thin streets of the city, he silently prayed that he wouldn’t be too late.

“Mazelinka!” Julian entered the home of the older woman, bent over the fire concocting a soup. “I need your help. Nijah has poisoned herself.”

“Oh dear…” she mumbled, visibly distressed. “Doctor, there’s not too much I can do about that…” she told him as he strided past, making a beeline for the bed in the back of her home. 

In a frenzy, he set her down gently and began taking off his gloves, tossing them aside without a care. His eyes glanced over at the murder’s mark on his hand. He remembered how Nijah wasn’t afraid when she saw his bare hand when he was saving her the first time. How she wasn’t repulsed by his reputation, or his dark demeanor. No, she accepted him for everything he is, was, and always will be.

But she wasn’t like that to just him. She was kind and caring to everyone she met. He knew that she must have charmed Nadia, had Pasha on her side at the palace, and...he knew Asra was in love with her. In truth, she was someone that everyone loved.

That’s why he had to defend her, to keep her alive. She was a light in the world, and he wouldn’t let one mistake blow it out.

“It won’t be her you’re helping,” He insisted. “It will be me.”

Without further hesitation, he set his bare hands on her chest, hoping to expel any of the poison that has already reached her heart. With all his might, with all his concentration, with all the strength in his body...he tried as if his life depended on it, the mark on his throat glowing brightly.

“Nijah, please…come back to me” the doctor’s eyes were squeezed shut as he focused on curing her.

Julian felt his power spread through her veins, expelling every single last drop of the dastardly hemlock. Her body flourished back to life, the color coming back in her cheeks, the air filling her lungs, and her skin cooling. He sighed happily, taking one last breath before the curse started to take over him.

The doctor’s breath hitched as the first sweltering wave of poison took over, rendering him too dizzy to continue standing. His gasps turned into pants as it slowly worked through his veins, nearly burning inside of him as the next wave hit him - one by one, until he was nearly writhing on the floor, wishing he could just will it to all go away.

Even when he cried out in agony, the worst part of it was that Nijah had felt the same pain as he was, if not even worse.

Mazelinka hurried to his side, right as he felt like he was going to slip out of consciousness. She held him on his back, opening his mouth as she shoved a mixture of medicines down his throat, just in time to bring him back. His breathing slowed, his fever ceased, and soon he was able to gain control over himself once more. Softly laughing to himself, Julian sat up beside the bed, looking at the woman who helped him.

“It’s truly unwordly how quick you are with all of that...thank you, Mazelinka.” He shook his head in disbelief.

He brought his attention back to Nijah, who hadn’t moved a bit. Julian leaned over her body and gently tucked her blonde hairs behind her ear as she slept. She looked so peaceful, so serene, so...content. The slight rise and fall of her chest was mesmerizing, and he studied the different constellations her freckles made on her face. Never in his life had the doctor seen anything more beautiful as her.

He let out a sigh of relief. He was so happy she was okay, he couldn’t even put it into words.

“You’re a lucky lad that you got to her in time, doctor.” Mazelinka tisked as she prepared to go to the market. “I don’t know what you would do if you had lost her.”

“Me neither. There was so much poison in her body...I’m surprised we both survived.” He replied, unable to take his eyes off of her. 

The older woman watched him, curiously. “Why is she so important to you?” She questioned, observing how completely smitten he looked with this mysterious woman. “It’s not like she has done anything that great for you.”

He shifted his gaze to his friend. “Once you get to know her, you’ll understand.” He took a deep breath, eyes trailing back over to Nijah. “It’s strange, I’ve only known her for a few days. But somehow, I feel like I’ve known her for years…”

A dull pain rang through his head, pulsing at his temples like a migrane. He grunted, pressing his palm against his forehead to block out the ache. What was hitting him so suddenly? He wished he knew…

“It seems like I have to make you a medicine for your headache to go away now, hm?” Mazelinka teased him. “Take good care of her now, and I’ll be back soon.”

As the older woman left the two of them together, Julian lifted his head up, back to Nijah���s resting form. He so desperately wanted to reach out and caress her, bury his face in her neck as he rested right by her side…

“Julian?”

It was the softest, purest voice that had ever graced his ears. Sleepy, slightly scratchy, but soothing to his soul. At first, he wasn’t sure where it came from. He opened up the curtain and searched to see if Mazelinka had returned, but he was greeted by an empty room. He was about to shake it off to his imagination, until he heard it once more:

“Julian...where are you?”

It was Nijah.

She was dreaming, her face filled with worry as her mind lead her through her fantasies. Julian’s heart swelled in his chest, a small flush dusting his cheeks. He never thought someone would dream about him, let alone the woman he had found himself very attracted to. He definitely would never deserve this woman, but the way she called out to him made the doctor feel right at home with her by his side.

“Nijah…” he whispered, stroking the back of his fingers against her cheek.

“Julian?...Is that you?” she whispered, reaching out and grabbing her pillow with her frail hands.

Unable to hold himself back, Julian lies behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. He buried his nose in her soft hair, inhaling her scent like an incense. He felt her hum in delight, resting her hand on his forearm. “I’m here, Nijah…” he whispers in her ear, “...and I won’t leave you ever again.”

#elle writes #yay i've been working on it for a hot minute so im v excited #the arcana #the arcana game #tw: attempted suicide #tw: poison #julian devorak #fan apprentice #mazelinka #:)