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suffarustuffaru · 8 months

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why otto is so pissed off at subaru (arc 8 ch 24)

hello im otto posting Again but im writing this in an attempt to understand this subject myself (and totally not as a reference for later…) and also bc some people in the fandom seemed to be confused on Why ottos so angry at the moment. but i really think the key reason why hes so mad at subaru right now comes from this: otto treasures the people he cares about far above anyone else—to the point where if he needs to make sacrifices, he absolutely will because the people he cares about (his friends in emilia camp) go First before everyone else in his mind.

like. thats ottos key reason for everything hes been doing in arc 8. all his other reasoning branches off from that—like him wanting to leave vollachia for dead and only take the people his camp cares about. otto sees the path that will keep his camp safest—ie just going into vollachia to rescue rem and subaru and then immediately getting out—and he chooses that rather than subaru and emilias more noble approach of refusing to leave vollachia and its population of 50 million people to die. otto himself is aware that his own strategy is Callous, especially after roswaal told him in chapter 24 that he agrees with ottos proposed strategy of just leaving vollachia. but otto thinks that its 1. entirely necessary and 2. he Knows that thats the optimal way to keep the emilia camp safe.

he knows that staying in vollachia and helping vincent is a massive risk to his whole camp. otto being a merchant values equivalent exchange and Hates too much cost, which is On Top of otto knowing that going out of their way to help vollachia is risking the entire emilia camp’s lives. but otto Knows subaru and emilia. and he knows that subaru and emilia are idealists at heart that will do everything they can to save Everyone, which is why despite being Extremely Unhappy about all of this, otto plays hard to get so vincent is the one who asks for their help. that way, at least the decision to help vollachia looks more like accepting the request of vollachias emperor and adding more accomplishments under their belt and Less Like just going out of their way to vollachia for no benefit at all.

otto valuing his camp above everything else is also why he creates distance between himself and julius and anastasia and emphasizes that theyre enemies. for otto, its Absolutely the emilia camp above everyone else.

then theres the whole louis situation. otto, of course, knows that subaru cares about louis Despite everything shes done.

so. essentially. i think ottos extremely pissed about subaru always going out of his way to try and be a hero because otto knows this comes at a Detriment to subaru (bc otto CARES about subaru!!! he knows subaru is WAY too selfless and forgiving and he cant agree with that!!!) and otto worries for the cost of subarus decisions, especially with the current conflict regarding louis. otto has accepted that, unlike the majority of his camp, that he has to be the Bad Guy. because in ottos mind, no one else in his camp is going to be bold enough to be the ruthless morally questionable one. he thinks its 100% necessary to play this role to minimize the costs and threats to his camp.

which is why he hasnt told anyone, despite knowing this from his dp, that louis/spica is innocent.

hes fully aware that—even though hes manipulating his own camp—louis will be more likely to be eliminated if he keeps quiet about the fact that she has Zero malice. louis being eliminated means one less threat to his camp. and otto KNOWS that subaru cares about louis and is upset at the idea of her dying (which is at least partly why otto snapped at julius in chapter 23!!), but ottos decided that killing louis comes at a far less cost than keeping her alive. because keeping her alive means dealing with the consequences of the emilia camp calling her an ally and rem and subaru recognizing her as their daughter when louis has affected So Many people. otto knows this and wants to prevent it at all costs.

otto wants her dead for these reasons. otto figures that he has to be the one walking in darkness bc he not only wants to help emilia and subaru and preserve their idealism (bc he Knows that its important to them!! its who they are at heart and he cares about them in turn bc of their kindness and goodness!!!), but otto also wants to help by being the necessary evil. because someone has to.

that, of course, wont stop otto from being pissed at subarus decisions. this also, of course, wont stop subaru from being pissed if he ever finds out otto withheld the fact that he knows louis is 100% innocent just so he can make sure that 1. the rest of emilia camp stays suspicious of louis and 2. louis gets killed. i really do think ottos questionable decisions will eventually catch up to him—because he stands in direct opposition to everything subaru stands for.

subaru wants to save everyone. he wants to have it all, even if it costs him. otto, meanwhile, chooses only who he cares about because hes not idealistic enough to believe he can have everything, and he believes that sacrifices have to be made even if its cruel. and he knows that subaru cant do that, but it still angers him because hes trying to keep subaru safe while subaru insists on trying to accomplish everything without sacrificing anyone. otto doesnt think its possible at all. but otto knows its not in subarus nature to be pragmatic.

which is why otto takes A Lot of the things subaru has been doing in arc 8 Extremely Personally. because its Very personal for otto.

#IVE BEEN TRYING TO PUT INTO WORDS ON MY THEORY ON WHY OTTOS SO MAD AT SUBARU RN BUT I THINK I MANAGED TO SAY IT ALL IN THIS POST HAH #arc 8 makes ottosubas relationship even crazier…. The divorce arc of all time. thesis and antithesis. they will never agree on anything ever #again aldndndnd #i keep otto posting. its a problem. im very normal about him i promise (is not normal)#rezero #otto suwen #arc 8 spoilers #natsuki subaru #i love otto bc hes been introducing even more moral gray area which is very interesting to me. also bc his development has been perfectly #leading up to his fucking edgy ass ‘i cant walk in the light’ bullshit. otto 😭😭

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butterbabyflapjack · 2 years

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ch. 2

༄ Gold Gilded Leash

Derek Goffard x Matt Goffard (The Price of Flesh) x fem!reader

Once upon a time, there lived an unfortunate woman minding her own business, struggling just to get by. Until one lovely, fateful day, when she just so happened to be at the very wrong place at the very wrong time.

Knocked unconscious. Kidnapped. Auctioned off as property. An item for one lucky bidder to do with whatever they pleased. And her life which was stolen, was traded - to one flaxen-haired, gold-blooded monster who paid the top of daddy’s dollars to hunt her down.

It’s funny, looking back.

Right?

It’s funny?

What you’ve been reduced to?

And you thought you had it bad back then.

Tumblr chapter directory

ao3

Derek belongs to @gatobob

Warning tags: explicit sexual content, forced oral sex, Derek owns you, some graphic depictions of violence and bodily harm, obsession, wrath, punishment, yandere, rape/noncon, highly dubious consent, variations of noncon to con, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, kidnapping, escape attempts, bondage, exhibitionism, voyeurism, knifeplay, bloodplay, rough sex, possessive sex, death threats, dead dove: do not eat, sadism, masochism, angst, depression & wry coping, breathplay, choking, warning: Derek (the price of flesh), Derek might lend you to others, others might steal you for some fun

CHAPTER TWO: Clipped Wings...

Author's Note: If you’ve never seen Derek’s brother and are curious, he was posted on Gato’s pillowfort. And if you’re not 18+, you shouldn’t be going there nor should you be reading this story <3 Everyone else, sorry I barely edited this lets do it ~

___________________________________

“You belong to me.”

“You are property.”

“And I’m going to use you for a long, long time…”

___________________________________

Your chain scrapes across the macassar ebony hardwood of Derek’s sitting room, as you weakly awaken upon the floor. Your lashes barely flutter, stirred into being by the morning’s early light pouring in through the giant skylight carved across the ceiling high above you, its craft like a work of art. And although your body is only just barely clinging to consciousness, like your mind is already fighting being woken in this place, you can’t deny the feel of sun on your skin helps soothe the bruises.

The bedroom attached doesn’t have windows. It’s like a cave. An extravagantly manicured cave, complete with cove lighting and an artisanally masoned fireplace; the flames of which somehow fail to provide any form of comfort.

Being chained out here, left out here, is a rarity. You hadn't even realized there was a wall mount out here to chain you to.

Sunlight.

After your time wandering the desert, you never thought you’d want to see the sun again. But now you weakly uncurl your limbs from where you're strewn across the floor, basking in its golden spill. Wondering how you even got out here in the first place. You don’t recall Derek dragging you out here. You don't remember seeing him at all last night, actually - not for days - and you feel like you’d remember the torment of it.

He didn’t have your dog bed brought out for you, apparently. Not that you expect him to see to even your smallest of comforts, but he seems to especially enjoy how much you hate being treated like his pet.

You’re not sure if being forced to sleep directly on the floor is in any way better or worse.

The luxury of silence, of solitude, isn’t long left to you. And suddenly your heart bolts against your ribs as the two-story doors leading from the sitting room’s foyer are shoved open - both of them, despite their heavy weight.

Shit.

You jerk up into something of a slouch, your weight pushed up on your palms, likely looking like some startled, cornered animal readying to flee the length of its leash – and are simultaneously befuddled and relieved to see the estate manager of Derek’s wing of the household – Emilia Lane, a taut woman with cold eyes – striding brusquely into the room, her sensible heels clacking on the hardwood.

She comes directly toward you, her pace not slowing as you slowly shrink away.

“Get up,” she snaps at you, eyeing you in that same way all the household staff tends to. With a wall behind their eyes rejecting whatever pity or sympathy might lie behind it; ‘ better you than me’.

“Why?” you ask her, and see her thinning frown.

My, you’re feeling bold this morning, aren’t you? Then again, Miss Lane has never struck you. She’s tugged you along with her, sure; digging her manicured claws into your forearms when you try to get away. But she’s not allowed to outright hurt you. No one’s allowed the pleasure of your harm other than the man who’s swiftly become the master of it.

“Get up you filthy ingrate,” Miss Lane clips with more authority, folding her slender arms across her perfectly-pressed, flounce-sleeved blouse. “I’m to have you tended and cleaned before delivered for boarding.”

Part of you wants to continue your dared version of being combative, but you find yourself blinking up at her in confusion instead. “Boarding…?”

She rolls her eyes whilst simultaneously slipping out the key to that iron anklet digging into your skin. “Must I repeat myself? Can you not hear the words coming out of my mouth?” Her eyes slightly narrow as you continue, in confusion, to stare. “Get. Up! I was only given an hour to have you delivered to the jet.” She eyes you, up and down, disdain pinching her pretty features. “And you’re disgusting – I’ll need to have you bathed before anything else, and there’s no time to have anything tailored to whatever shape that is I've been forced into dealing with.”

A maid your don't recognize hurries in through the opened doorway behind her, seemingly belated in her arrival, and Miss Lane turns her narrow gaze from you to the way her feet scuff to a sudden stop.

“Fetch something for Mr. Goffard’s pet to wear. A gown, short, something slim.” She steals a contemplative glance down at you, at that way you're dressed in nothing but your underwear. “...Champagne or blush hued. And tell Miranda to run a bath in the Lavender Room, I expect it filled and the water scented by the time I arrive.”

As she carves through the distance which separates you, she stoops to unshackle your leash, pencil skirt rising up her thighs as her legs press together. And some part of you finds satisfaction in the way she grimaces against having to lean down like one of the maids she orders around, with her enduring the task briskly before rising to tower over you once again.

“Up,” she states again, pocketing your key.

You massage your newly freed ankle gingerly, rubbing your chafed skin back to life. Not obeying her immediately, and seeing her eyes flash as a result. “What do you mean, boarding? Boarding what?”

“Whatever does one board,” she drawls instead of answering, sarcasm dripping off her tongue. Already striding out of the room without a second glance, fully expecting you to follow.

You consider bolting instead, because of course you do – somewhere, anywhere other than that path the clacking of her heels leads to. But you’ve tried that before. More than once. You never make it very far before a multitude of personal and premises guards finds you, and you still wear the marks of your repeated punishments. A reminder of how much you've tried and how badly you've failed.

No, it’s best if you just play the good pet and follow her. Plus, it sounds like you’re getting a bath, and a bath without Derek’s hands all over you sounds like it might actually resemble something nice. Even if Miss Lane will likely be lording over you like an authoritarian hawk the entire time.

Your aching muscles throb with longing at just the thought of a nice, steamy soak. Not to mention… you’re undoubtedly curious about why you’re to be primped and prodded and delivered somewhere in the first place…

Boarding… your mind spins as you shakily lift yourself to stand, hurrying after Miss Lane as best you can so as to avoid any more of her wrath at your tardiness. Boarding a jet? As in… leaving this place…?

There’s no way… Derek wouldn’t let you off Goffard grounds…

...Would he?

You'd do unspeakable things to slip free of this place. And something suspiciously like hope twists inside your chest, with you doing your best to ignore it. It's better not to get your hopes up about anything, not anymore, not here. Hope is just another thing Derek can steal and tear to shreds in whatever ways allow him the most time in savoring it.

You don’t really know where the Lavender Room is, but you follow the echoed clip of heels on marble, stumble-dashing your way down one hallway and the next. You’ve yet to see a vast majority of the estate – the illustrious ‘Mr. Goffard’ hasn’t exactly provided you with a guided tour – but you’ve seen enough to know that giving rooms distinct titles is a necessity should one hope to traverse this labyrinth without becoming lost and dying of hunger somewhere.

When at last you reach the room the sound of Miss Lane's heels leads you toward, which is of course extravagant and is indeed filled with crystal vases overflowing with freshly cut lavender blooms, you’re too distracted by the magnitude of your surroundings to realize you’re on course to run right into her - not until it’s too late, anyway.

“Auuhnph!”

You cry out awkwardly as she stumbles, barely catching herself with how you barrel right into her. Before she snatches your startled wrist and tosses you on the path in front of her, toward the marble-carved tub at the foot of a large bay window, warm with the wash-room's sunlight, which two maids are already busying themselves over, scenting the steaming water, lathering shampoo suds between their palms.

You dig your heels in against the way you're flung at them; eying both the maids and the bath with a souring expression.

Lords, they’re not going to bathe you like a dog too, are they…? You’re perfectly capable of washing your own damn hair!

Even when Derek’s not personally available to ensure with every drop of his being that you hate it here, that you're treated as his fucking pet, you absolutely hate it here and are treated as such, regardless.

“In,” Miss Lane orders you – the suddenly-pampered Goffard pet.

Briefly, you consider wrestling with and tossing her in, instead. She could surely use a bath, and you really don't mind sharing…

With a defeated sigh, your shoulders slump as you eventually force yourself to strip off the scant clothing you wear, uncaring to your own immodesty. If anything, some part of you enjoys forcing those sheepish maids to avert their gazes from the state of your naked form. From those raised notches carved across your stomach, your back, your arms, your legs. The brands, the bruises. Even half-healed, busy as Derek’s been these past few days from continuing your torment – perhaps even for a full week, though you’ve given up in tracking the length of your sentence – you’re still a mess; a tapestry of his cruel amusement with you.

Though you hate to admit it, as you crawl into the oversized tub, the balmy water is at once soothing, and makes enduring how the maids tug and scrub and untangle a much easier burden to bear. In fact, besides how swiftly they work beneath the watchful, critical eye of Miss Lane, your bath-at-gunpoint is almost enjoyable, and certainly an indulgence you’ve long gone without.

More maids arrive, and you shrink deeper into the water at the sight of their procession; a wary crocodile with only her eyes above the steam, until you’re tugged back up again for more scrubbing. There’s one maid draping a number of mid-thigh dresses over one arm, another toting boxes upon boxes of shoes, and yet another with what can only be described as a torture-chamber’s worth of cosmetics and other styling accessories.

Perhaps you'd rather suffer through whatever torture Derek might subject you to, instead - not that you have a choice.

You’re pulled from the tub, dripping water everywhere. Patted hastily dry by Turkish towels before hands are all about you, holding gowns and shoes up for Miss Lane’s inspection.

“That one,” she points at a champagne-colored, sleeveless gown, with an onyx haltered neckband and thin, empire belt to match; its hem brushing your upper thighs, with what lace makes up the opened back scratching uncomfortably against your shoulder blades.

Somehow, you feel even more naked paraded in it than you did in just your underwear. And as you catch a glimpse of yourself in the wall of bronze-trimmed mirrors, for a moment you don’t even recognize yourself. Somewhat perplexed with how, even with your legs and shoulders and the curve of your spine on full display, you still somehow manage to appear within the realm of good taste.

Apparently Miss Lane truly has an eye for such things. And she chooses a pair of black t-strap heels to match your new garment, the intimidating height of which seems more like a weapon than a spindle to somehow walk upon.

You can’t help from wryly grinning, thinking it might be funny to die whilst tripping in those heels than from anything Derek can, has, or will do to you. The fact that such ideas likely shouldn’t amuse you doesn’t even occur; not anymore. After maybe a month of being imprisoned here, this place is warping you into whatever creature might best survive it. And if that, in and of itself, is not also alarming, that fact does not occur to you, either.

Soon, what scars are visible beyond your newest veil are painted over, the maids busying themselves about you as you try not to wince with their pressing and prodding. Your hair dried and styled. Your lashes curled, your cheekbones tinted, your lips plumped with color.

You imagine, under normal circumstances, the lovely peacock they transfigure you into might fill you with an accompanying pride. But now you just stare dully at your own reflection, trying to find yourself inside it. Yet all you see is an immaculate shell with a dying flame where a heart should reside.

By the time you’re being rushed toward what turns out to be the entrance hall of this wing, it’s clear by Miss Lane’s tension that you’re cutting things close as far as timing is concerned. And as you blink against the waves of fresh air and sunlight that wash over you upon your hurried escort outside, you're forced to give up the desire of begging to walk wherever it is you’re going almost immediately, forced away from your desperate want to spend as much time just walking, just existing outside as humanly possible, even if forced to do so whilst strapped within your death-trap heels. But a polished Rolls-Royce slides up to the curb of the large, circular drive before you’ve even stumbled ten steps outdoors, and you’re swiftly herded inside of it, with Miss Lane ducking in after you. Neither of you speaking as the chauffeur transports you, she, and the gargantuan bodyguard sitting up front to the on-premises hangar.

You merely stare out the window as you're driven there, dragging one fingerpad across the glass. Imagining yourself basking through the flowers, the trees, the grass you see flying by you. Everything outside seems so much brighter, so more inviting when viewed within the confines of a cage, even one as gilded as the one you've been trapped in.

The car pulls up beside one of several private jets upon a massive runway, and as Miss Lane beckons you to follow her out of the car and toward it, you blink up from its rising shadow with a speeding heart.

You’re really leaving.

You’re actually leaving this awful place.

And you’re not sure if that’s excitement or panic in your lungs.

Suspicion, doubt, creeps in where any elation slowly bleeds dry of you.

Why is he letting me leave...?

...Where is he taking me to?!

This can't be good. Derek never gives you anything good.

Then... this must be a game. A ploy. Something that will end up hurting you.

Your heels barely get you up the steep boarding steps without resulting in something disastrous for your ankles, and once inside you’re struck by fear into abruptly stopping – that sprinting of your heart seized to a sudden, panicked halt at who you see already onboard.

The realization's as choked as your throat is at the sight of him.

-Derek–!

But… no.

Slowly, your features twist with confusion.

No. That's not Derek.

Your pulse takes at least some solace in that fact.

You don’t know that man staring idly out the window, already sitting with one heel propped up casually across his opposite knee. A drink in crystal balanced in the mitt of one large, upturned hand, some kind of whiskey, despite the sun telling you it’s not even noon yet.

He has Derek’s eyes, though his are more blue. Has Derek’s mouth, though the shape of his lips lacks amusement. And there, the similarities cease. He’s broader. The ridge of his jawline more dense. His dark brows unruly, along with those few honeyed strands of hair spilled across his forehead, rebellious against the way he’s languidly tied the rest of his shoulder-length mane back across his nape.

He looks like a Goffard, and he’s dressed like a Goffard. And he seems to sense you staring; for he turns, a bare pivot, his gaze half-lidded with the boredom and disdain of the rich.

One eyebrow barely lifts at you, and that is his only reaction to your presence and your gawking at him.

“Has walking become something you’re incapable of? Move you wretched girl!”

Miss Lane is behind where you’ve unwittingly blocked the entrance of the aircraft with your sudden, deer-in-headlights stare, and at her outburst you tear your startled attention away from the dark-haired Goffard now idly watching you. Doing your best to ignore the way his ice-like intensity trails after the awkwardness of you passing by him; his silent interest freckling your skin with goosebumps.

There’s a multitude of plush, empty seats clustered beside each interior window of the jet, and you choose one further back from that man you’d rather hide behind whilst simultaneously keeping your sights on; sitting by a window on the side of the aisle opposite his.

Your posture stiffens a bit as that giant bodyguard from the car takes the seat right next to yours; boxing you in between himself and the wall, and you can’t help but feel your being cornered is not by accident.

You hear the mumbling of the pilots up front, already preparing for take-off, as Miss Lane ensures you’re safely tucked in and seated on board with your hulking, silently imposing escort stationed beside you, before she turns as if to leave.

Apparently she's not coming with you.

“Wait,” you say without thinking, just as she starts to turn. “Is Derek not coming…?” You try not to sound too hopeful.

Miss Lane barely conceals a scoff, as she seems to misinterpret your conflicted expression for some impossible version of you missing him. “He’s already attending business dealings in Dubai – you’ll be reunited with him shortly. Now… go to sleep or something. Or at the very least keep your mouth shut. I won’t be blamed for your unspeakable annoyance.”

You blink, biting at your lower lip. “Dubai...?”

She slaps your wrist, and in surprise your teeth stop nipping. “Don’t bite yourself – you’ll ruin your gloss, you insufferable creature!”

With a terse, parting look of supreme disapproval, she spins about and leaves you there. Departing the jet as its engines purr to life.

As the aircraft rolls toward takeoff, you try to stave the alarm slowly creeping over you, ruining any sense of excitement you'd previously had. Your fingernails digging anxiously at the armrests of your seat as you try not to bite at your lower lip again, just in case the bodyguard beside you is also hellbent on you not ruining your makeup.

Why the fuck is he flying me to Dubai?!

Author's Note:

chapter theme

derek goffard , bastard playlist

inspiration behind your dress

#derek goffard #matt goffard #the price of flesh #tpof #fanfiction #my fanfic #ao3 #derek tpof #dead dove: do not eat #derek goffard x you #derek goffard x reader

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rainydaycafe · 11 months

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A Shaken Espresso, Please - Ch. 2

Pairing: Professor! Stephen Strange au x OC fem! graduate school student (and barista)!

Summary: Professor Strange has a reputation that proceeds him and a finicky taste for off-campus coffee. Enter a graduate school attending barista. This is their story.

Warnings: age difference (older Stephen), and an inhumane amount of fluff with tumultuous thoughts

A/N: feel more than free to send me prompts for this story regarding what you'd like to see, what you think would fit, and any thought u have up in that sexy mind of yours!

Chapter 1

Time seemed to bend in differently for both Stephen and Emilia.

Their perception of time differed as the morning of their lunch date time seemed to extend itself to an excruciating length even when Stephen did his best to distract himself with work and emails. Time seemed to pass by as quick as a gust of wind when Emilia woke up that morning feeling jitters, unable to formulate an outfit that was good enough.

However they perceived it, time still passed and as was her habit- Emilia was early to the restaurant.

It turns out Stephen is even earlier than her, waiting outside on a nearby wall looking as handsome as ever. It’s the first time Emilia’s ever seen him wearing black jeans which he’s paired with a dark blue cardigan overtop a casual gray button up.

Looking so well put together with his straight posture and confident aura, it’s unimaginable to think of this man having been the one in his apartment checking and rechecking everything about his appearance multiple times before finally leaving his place.

Only to check himself in every available window and mirror, but that’s besides the point because he knows he looks good.

Emilia glances down at her own outfit which took her longer than she’d admit to pick. The entire idea of picking this outfit almost sent her into a fit of inescapable nerves.

It took her a lifetime to pick a pair of dark blue jeans that clung to her thighs and ended at just the beginning of her shoes, and the beige cardigan with orange flowers with a cream tank top.

The jeans may make her ass look fantastic, but that’s not the reason she chose them. Really. That would be presumptuous of her.

While Emilia doesn't have the financial freedom Stephen has to spend on clothes, she knows she did well choosing her outfit when Stephen catches sight of her and bites back a smile by biting his lower lip.

“Emilia,” Stephen says, pushing away from the wall and walking towards her.

Emilia doesn’t know whether they’re supposed to hug, wave, or shake hands but Stephen makes the decision for her as he leans in quickly and presses a kiss on her cheek. The breath she had catches in her throat and she flushes a bit, looking just about anywhere other than the man before her.

“Hi. You look really nice,” Which isn’t an empty compliment because Stephen does look nice.

“Thank you. This is my favorite cardigan,” Stephen says as they begin walking towards the door, Emilia pulling open the door for them, “You look beautiful. Those pants are-” Stephen swallows and Emilia watches in genuine surprise as he flushes a bit, “They look nice on you,”

“Thanks,” Emilia says as she wrings her hands together because he noticed!

“I already got us a table so I hope it’s okay we eat upstairs on the roof?”

Emilia spends plenty of time indoors. Work, school, home, etc. So she’s plenty happy to be outside. It’s a lovely day to spend outside since it’s just warm enough to avoid being too cold, but it isn’t hot. The breeze is cooling but not strong enough to blow away their napkins which is nice to have when Emilia feels she needs to cool down when Stephen looks at her.

In all honesty, Emilia can’t remember the last time she went on a date. The previous dates having been a daunting experience with men that really weren’t her cup of tea but they managed to get her to agree when she was fumbling with how to say “no”.

This, however?

This is easy.

It’s easy to simply sit across from Stephen on a sunny afternoon on the roof of his lovely restaurant. Their knees aren’t knocking, but every so often their feet bump into one another and every time Emilia feels her breath stutter. But either way she leans her chin on the heel of her hand and gazes at Stephen, making him feel as though everything he says will stick to Emilia and will never be forgotten.

Stephen makes it easy with his gift for conversation and his infectious smile. Emilia is very content to just listen as Stephen speaks about his job, where he went to school, what he studied. Everything is nonchalant- all that he’s done and all he still wants to do. There is pride as he speaks, but there isn’t any of the usual arrogance Emilia knows he carries at times. Stephen talks about himself as though he’s just any other person but Emilia thinks Stephen might be the most interesting person she’s ever encountered.

And Stephen draws out bits and pieces of Emilia’s own private story, unhappy with the way Emilia shrugs away her own life as though there’s nothing to actually speak of. The wide eyed wonder Stephen shows when Emilia speaks of her life, her education, and herself is enough to keep her speaking as she fidgets every so often when the attention makes her shy. Emilia continues to speak even when she knows she’s told Stephen more than she’s ever told anyone.

They’re both quite certain that they could speak to one another well past lunch, into dinner, and well into the late hours of night and into the early hours of the morning. For as long as the other might want to stay without even an inkling of boredom between them.

There is a quiet hope simmering there that hopefully the other will also want that.

A bit of doubt is bouncing around the back of her head and she can’t completely relax unless she’s clarified it.

“Is it- is it okay for us to be here together?” Emilia asks, nervously folding and refolding her napkin, Stephen pausing mid chew in confusion, “I mean since you’re a professor and I am a student,”

“You don’t need to worry about that. I looked through the faculty handbook the day you came into my office,” Stephen answers as though he’s telling her his favorite color with genuine ease.

It might not mean much to him, but it caused Emilia to pause to take what he had said.

Had he been interested in getting to know her and have her sit across from him from the moment she stepped foot in his office?

Stephen noted the surprise but he just smiled in the way that was now becoming familiar to Emilia, and she couldn’t help but just smile back.

“What are you teaching this semester? How are you liking them?” Emilia asked and Stephen contemplated.

“I’m teaching Navigational and Spatial Orientation, Ethical Conduct of Research, Neuroscience of Mental Illnesses, Sleep and Sleep Disorders, Neurobiology of Social Intelligence, and Neurobiology of Learning and Memory,”

The impressed expression on Emilia’s face was enough to have Stephen feeling superior and like he was an impressive individual since the courses he taught were a glimpse into his vast intelligence

“I mostly enjoy them but there are pros and cons to any profession,” Stephen added..

“What are the pros and cons of yours?”

“It’s just a bit difficult in a frustrating sense when we have to backtrack multiple times to a topic or a particular section because some students are have a harder time understanding,” Stephen explained, catching Emilia off guard, “I never had a problem understanding things in school so I don’t have a lot of patience for the redundancy of the slow students. Especially the Learning and Memory since it’s more of an introductory course we get a lot of students who aren’t sure of what they’re really in for with neuro, much less achieving a level of education like my own. They follow my courses since I’m obviously the head of the department I am the best,”

Emilia had been the student who needed the extra help when it came to her science and math classes since it just didn’t click for her right away, often leaving her confused and with a headache.

Read a book in a day? Easy. Memorize a few dates for history class? Fine. But when it comes to the world of math and science Emilia always felt out of her depth and it had always been due to feeling stupid when she did reach out for help with teachers and professors who shared the slightest bit of Stephen’s attitude.

If Stephen thought his own students were “slow” students who had made it into the highly competitive science department were “slow” she didn’t want to imagine what he thought of her.

Stephen’s arrogance had always been something women enjoyed, finding it impressive how confident he was in his skills; but it seemed to be having the opposite effect on Emilia as she seemed to be shutting down right in front of her.

That arrogance had been a part of his personality for as long as he’s known he’s gifted and it’s what people notice immediately after meeting him.

“I’m sorry if I came off as a pretentious asshole” Stephen said suddenly over the silence that had stretched out due to what he knew was his fault, “I’m not some huge asshole who just goes around belittling students. I am good at what I do but I don’t want you to think that’s all I am. I just- I just wanted to impress you but it seems to be having the opposite effect on you,”

Emilia visibly relaxed and she listened to him ramble until he came to his own natural end.

“Stephen, I’m not here with you because you’re head of the science department or because you have all of this professional success,” Emilia confessed, “I’m here to be with the Stephen that goes into the coffee shop and is pleasant to be around and converse with,”

“I really sounded like an asshole, didn’t?” Stephen asked with a self deprecating chuckle.

“Not… not really. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be confident and proud of yourself but like I said; I like you for who you are when you’re relaxed and are yourself, I don’t need you to prove to me you’re intelligent,” Emilia explained because anyone who came across Stephen could understand that he was an intelligent person.

When around Emilia, Stephen realizes he hasn’t been the belittling asshole with a superiority complex at all since all he wanted was to know her, to have her, and his genuine self has been more than enough to win her over.

Arrogance is just a mask for the feeling of having to prove yourself

That was something Stephen had heard time and time again after his haughtiness had gotten under the skin of someone, and perhaps on some level they were right but apparently he hadn’t felt the need to prove anything with Emilia up until he became all too self aware and self conscious almost.

There was safety between them; it seemed Stephen could be his most genuine self. There was nothing to prove to her since he was enough, he didn’t need additional padding.

However Stephen did choose to push the thought of confessing exactly why he had become a professor when he was very much qualified for more demanding professions.

It was still a subject that was sore enough to have him avoid it, especially when Emilia was looking at him with genuine affection within her gaze and he just couldn’t deal with it switching over to pity and sympathy because of what could have been.

The only other slight hiccup is when the check comes and Emilia attempts to pay but Stephen quickly pulls the bill out of her reach.

“I asked you so I will pay. If you’re so eager to pay, you can ask me out next time,” Stephen says with a smile, nudging at her ankle with his foot.

Next time. Emilia thinks, and the helpless wonder and hope bubbles inside of her all that much more, hoping Stephen feels the same anticipation when it comes to the phrase “next time”.

________________

It turns out that the second location Stephen wanted them to go to was a farmer’s market a few streets down which was held every Saturday afternoon from 2:00pm-7:30pm.

Emilia figures out where they’re going about two blocks into their walk as she sees people walking around with tote bags full of fresh produce, baked goods, and whatever else they sell at the farmers market but she keeps quiet.

They’re busy chatting or, well, lightly debating about whether classical music is superior to jazz music but there’s not an ounce of heat behind either of their words.

Walking side by side, their hands brush every so often and Emilia wonders what it would be like to hold hands with Stephen. To have his larger hands encase her own, or to thread her own fingers through his but she doesn’t dwell on it too long because she doesn’t have the courage to reach out and grab his hand.

The curiosity surrounding holding hands isn’t one Emilia lives with for too long as they arrive at the impressive farmer’s market and Stephen asks where she’d like to start.

Stephen asks where she’d like to start, but Emilia tells him she doesn’t really mind so he directs them towards the hand made soap when he suddenly takes hold of her hand as though it were the most casual and normal thing.

There’s a jolt that goes through Emilia, and she’s tempted to look at their interlaced fingers but she doesn’t and instead relishes the warmth Stephen’s hands provides.

Perhaps there’s a part of her that is afraid of acknowledging it because Stephen will also acknowledge it and pull away, noticing that it’s meaning a bit too much to Emilia for his liking.

A glance is stolen when Stephen is busy debating the kind of honey he most wants, but Emilia quickly looks away from their hands and confesses to him she’s of no help because she doesn’t care for honey.

Their walk around the farmer’s market continues and Emilia finds herself comfortable and content, hoping there’s another day like this awaiting her, just without all of the first date nerves that consumed her beforehand.

Letting their gazes linger towards stalls that might interest one another, Emilia locks eyes with an ice cream vendor dishing out delicious looking ice cream.

“Ice cream,” Emilia says not without childlike wonder that makes Stephen smile, directing both of them there where he smiles wider as Emilia genuinely debates the flavors. It seems to be a serious contemplation as she weighs her options, going through a pros and cons list in a matter of seconds.

“What are you going to get?” Emilia asks when they’re finally in line after Emilia has made a decision on her flavor choices.

“Brownie chunk and pistachio. What did you settle on?”

“I’ve settled on butter pecan and vanilla caramel crunch,”

They both order, Stephen opting for a cone as Emilia goes for her ice cream to be in a cup, Emilia beating him to pay as she had her card ready to go the moment they got in line because she couldn’t let him pay for everything.

Stephen had been distracted looking at her side profile, but he admits defeat as they wait off to the side, not waiting too long before their order number is called.

“There’s a bench over there,” Stephen gestures, “It’s a bit further away so we can have a bit of privacy,”

Emilia nods and before long they’re sitting, chatting away about anything that’s under the sun which is a relief to Emilia who had been plagued with the fear of Stephen finding her boring.

The natural curiosity between them doesn’t cease, both of them wanting to know more and more about the other without feeling as though they’ve hit the mark for casual first date knowledge.

“This place is here every Saturday,” Stephen explains proudly, “I know it’s a bit busy and touristy but it has some really nice things as well- what? What’s that look on your face?”

“I live nearby, Stephen,” Emilia says, attempting not to laugh at the affronted expression that crosses Stephen’s face, “I live about 2 blocks away and I come here on the Saturdays I want to get out of my place for a bit,”

“Fuck,” Stephen swears, “This is so boring for you, isn’t it? I just can’t seem to pull anything off with you, can I?”

“It’s not boring,” Emilia says sincerely, glancing towards the people shopping away, “I’m not bored because I’m getting to know you,”

The smile that Stephen gives him is so genuine and delicate that Emilia swears something rearranges inside of her in that moment.

“You’re so sweet,” Stephen says, and suddenly when Emilia looks towards him from where she was looking at some kids playing with sticks Stephen is leaning in and kissing her firmly.

It’s warm and sweet, and so intimate it makes Emilia feel like she’s off kilter somehow even though she’s sitting down on a bench at the farmer’s market she frequented as often as she’s wanted to.

Emilia’s been kissed before, sure, but not like this.

Not like she’s something precious and wonderful, like she’s something meant to be cherished. She can feel the intimacy and the sincerity, the way Stephen isn’t trying to impress her in that moment.

It’s the ice cream he tastes like, the softness of his lips, and the hand he has pressed to the back of her neck.

“Are you guys kissing?” A voice asks a bit too close for comfort and Stephen feels Emilia pull away quickly as though she’s been burned, leaving him mentally cursing everything worth cursing in the universe.

Turning, he sees one of the little monsters- kids- who had been playing a ways away standing in front of them waiting for an answer.

“Why don’t you go back to playing with sticks before I give you a lobotomy?” Stephen asks in a fakely sweet voice, the child unsure of what to make of the comment turns and goes back to her friends.

Emilia, embarrassed at being caught and interrupted is blushing bright red covering her face with her hands but Stephen is quick to peel them away, bringing her close to his side with his arm over her shoulder.

“I can’t believe you threatened to give her a lobotomy,” Emilia chastised.

“Well you were busy hiding your face so I had to get her to go away,” Stephen defended.

Indignant, Emilia turns to look at Stephen who looks at her expectantly but instead of giving in she turns back around, still unsure of what’s okay and what isn’t.

Stephen answers her by cupping her face with both hands and pulling her into him, pressing his lips to hers again, stemming that warm feeling that builds up in her chest and seems to expand to anywhere Stephen is touching.

________________

A/N: Hope you enjoyed and I hope you want to read more from me

Taglist for people who asked for a second part (ily):

@diabaroxa @vi0letdaze

#Stephen strange #Doctor strange #Stephen strange fic #Doctor strange pic #doctor strange au #Stephen strange au #marvel fiction #doctor strange fan fiction #Stephen Vincent strange #doctor strange x oc #doctor strange fluff #Benedict Cumberbatch #doctor strange fix rec #Stephen strange fic rec #marvel #marvel fanfic

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libradoodle1 · 2 years

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Storm Before the Calm - A Jonerys fic - Ch.1

Storm Before the Calm | A Jonerys fic - Ch. 1

Summary: What happens when you find the right person, but the timing is all wrong? Jon and Dany find themselves desperately trying to hold on to a dying love in this prequel to 'My Favorite Mistake'.

For @jupiterix - This is a ‘Just because I love you’ gift and not a ‘Sorry I’m nine months late to your birthday gift’ 🙈. Please do accept my deepest apology for taking so long on this story. You’re one of my best friends and I want you to know how much I value that. I hope you enjoy this story. I tried to do justice to one of your favorite songs and write something I hope you’ll like. 😘

*in case you guys wondered, no, Emilia Clarke did not pose nude for that picture. That's me doing some creative editing using her face on someone else's body in order to create a scene of Dany we'll get next chapter. Jon is one lucky bastard, right?

Read it here on AO3

#love you jupi #jonerys #jonerys fanfiction #storm before the calm #libra writes

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hapuriainen · 3 months

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Hapuriainen's animation, comics & games (and other) of 2023

Got the wrap up almost sort of out on time this year!

Anime: Frieren (cour 1), Re:Zero (season 1) Futari wa Precure Splash Star, Yes! Precure 5, Yes! Precure 5 GoGo, Smile Precure!, Mahou Tsukai Precure!, Hirogaru Sky! Precure, Otona Precure, Zettai Bouei Leviathan, Petite Princess Yucie, Tokyo Mew Mew New s2, Magical Destroyers

Did I legit not watch any other non-magical girl anime than Frieren and Re:Zero? I'll have to try harder this year. Overall 2023 was a very Precure year and I'm done with almost all of the seasons, only 3 left. But Frieren has been amazing, it looks so beautiful (and is certainly an improvement from the manga on this front), the music is great and of course I already liked the story. Re:Zero was compelling enough that I might watch the second season even if the isekai aspect really isn't for me. Emilia best girl.

As for Precure, usually I manage to watch one backlog season in addition to the airing one, but this time I surprised myself and did five. Which may not have been smart since it was kind of a chore at some points, but I wanted to prepare for the Otona sequel (which turned out to be a disappointment). The 2023 season Hirogaru was one of the better ones thanks to the excellent heroine.

Manga: Are You Alice, Saint Tail, Stellar Witch LIPS, Zelda manga (Oracle of Ages/Seasons, Ocarina of Time, Four Swords)

On the manga front there wasn't much of note, the ongoing series from previous years (OP, MHA, Undead Unluck, Spy x Family, Frieren, Witch Hat Atelier…) continue and I don't have a lot to say about them, except that my interest in One Piece is still very low even if we finally got out of Wano.

I did manage to finish Are You Alice after it being on hold for years, so that's something at least. It has absolutely lovely art and I like the concept, but it did get kind of complicated at times. And I wish we had seen more Alices.

Movies: Super Mario movie, Puss in Boots 2, The Bad Guys, Strange World, the Boy and the Heron, Barbie, various Precure movies

Barbie enters the scene as one of the few live action anything and it was great. The message didn't really speak to me personally but it has an amazing aesthetic, fun story and something to say. And like everyone else has already said, I agree that Puss in Boots 2 was great on all fronts and The Bad Guys was a lot of fun too.

Comics & novels: W.i.t.c.h. reboot, Null Magical Girl, Smile Precure! novel, Magia Record scene 0

The W.i.t.c.h. reboot came out of nowhere and landed with a thud, I was willing to give it a chance but the story just wasn't that interesting. Not sure how I would rate it if it didn't have the comparison against a childhood favourite.

Games: Zelda 1, Zelda Oracle of Ages & Seasons, Ocarina of Time, Tears of the Kingdom, Pokemon Brilliant Diamond, Pokemon Arceus (or half of it), Usagi Shima

From the anime side 2023 was a very Precure year, but on the game side it was an extremely Zelda year. Or it started as a Pokemon year with Brilliant Diamond, which was not enjoyable, and continued with Arceus, which has been the best Pokemon game I've played. Haven't cleared it yet though since I got this sudden need to play Zelda, and I didn't want to rush it. But I'm looking forward to finishing it.

On the Zelda front Tears of the Kingdom was just as great as I hoped, and it effectively monopolised my summer. But as much as I like botw Link, I'm ready for a new Hyrule. As for the older loz games, the OG game was too retro for me, but I really liked Oracle of Ages. Seasons had fun gameplay but the story was very nothing.

Then there was Usagi Shima which was cute for about 2 weeks but once I completed the bun book there wasn't really anything left to do. But it was fun for what it is.

Best work: Tears of the Kingdom

Best music: Frieren (A Powerful Mage)

Best visuals: Barbie looked amazing, especially for a live-action movie. Frieren on the anime side. As for manga, Are You Alice

Best character design: Cure Sky

Best OP: Hirogaru Sky Precure for the song, Frieren for visuals

Best ED: Frieren also

Biggest WTF: the sequel to a goddamn Shrek spin-off being so much better than it had any business being. Also the entirety of Null Magical Girl.

Best Girl: Frieren

Best Boy: Botw Link again I guess, I spend a lot of time thinking about him

Best Side Girl: I dunno, Ha-chan (Mahou Tsukai Precure)? She is just so cute.

Best Side Boy: Rauru (the goat one not the owl guy), he got a compelling story that lets us see him displaying many different emotions and he has such a pleasant voice. I'm not a furry but…

Worst Girl: Nozomi (Yes! Precure 5 & GoGo, she was ok in Otona though)

Worst Boy: I don't think there's enough works with a notable male main character this year and I don't remember hating any of them. I guess I didn't particularly like Subaru (re:Zero) but he wasn't like, the worst.

Worst Side Girl: Ellee-chan (Hirogaru Sky! Precure), baby characters just really don't work for me

Worst Side Boy: I don't really like the friendly rivals in Pokemon, so Barry.

Best romance: I continue to ship Link and Zelda (botw/totk)

Best non-romantic relationship: The fact that botw Link isn't alone any more and has friends who are happy to see him and fight with him

Worst romance: Main girl x main guy from Stellar Witch Lips, they barely had any scenes together

Worst non-romantic relationship: the group dynamics in the W.i.t.c.h. reboot didn't work nearly as well as in the original.

Plans for 2024:

Tiger & Bunny and Spy x Family part 2

Wonderful Precure!

Starting three backlog Precure I haven't seen yet with Heartcatch

Maybe it'll be Evangelion's year this time?

Ghost Trick is currently downloading on my Switch since it was on sale

More Zelda in general

Case Study of Vanitas started getting published here so I'll probably catch up on that

#annual wrap up

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pynkhues · 11 months

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Heeeyy! Have you seen that emilia clarke quote about co stars that play love interest most likely hooked up or what not! When I saw that post it immediately made me think of all the ships that have insane chemistry and the mess that was ch and mm drama lol but anyways What are your thoughts on that theory lol 👀

Hey! And ahahaha, yeah, I had seen that quote, anon, and look, I don't like to speculate on real people's personal lives (well, at least not publicly, haha), but yeah, I do think they probably did. I kinda pieced together a bit of a timeline around the Christina and Manny drama here, which really could've been platonic, but I do think the timing of Christina's divorce and Manny and Adelfa's very public displays of commitment are capital-i Interesting.

I've answered a few more asks about it in my gg cast tag if you're curious!

#as a huge fan of golden age hollywood too #yeah #haha #people are often hooking up #gg cast #welcome to my ama

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n0rmandysr1 · 2 months

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Hi! Having just finished (and deeply enjoyed) wipe me clean with dirty hands, I'm really curious if you've ever thought about what Marka and Emilia might say to each other if they met? And/or Ash and Karlach, for that matter.

Oh man, I haven't thought of that haha!

It's interesting because how i see Emilia nad Marka's character arcs is Marka moving forward, and Emilia somewhat regressing. Like Emilia liked herself a lot more in Encroachment than she does by Vendetta because of the events of Fianchetto. I think they'd probably have some commonality in that they're both somewhat closed off people, but I do think Marka is somewhat moe naturally open and is closed off mostly out of fear, where Emilia is naturally reserved.

I think honestly they'd be wary of each other. Marka is socially perceptive enough that she'd recognise Emilia's MO for what it is, in that she creates the illusion of closeness with people she needs to motivate, and she wouldn't like being prodded and examined in the way Emilia does to people. And Emilia would be concerned about anyone with such a fragile grip on control, and if Marka was a soldier in her universe, she'd probably be like, this person is a potential liability on the battlefield, She Needs Therapy. (Emilia you hypocrite lmao).

Ash and Karlach would probably get along though. Ash is a lot less optimistic than Karlach (realist she'd say) and might at first take Karlach's determined optimism/hope as naivety (which it isn't, Karlach is far from naive, and I think sometimes fandom takes it that way and I Disagree Strongly lmao). But I think they both like a good fight and a good pub crawl, and if Karlach can befriend Astarion, she can deal with Ash's occasional bitterness and sharp tongue haha.

#wow this got llong lmaoo #ch: markolak #ch: emilia shepard #my firt thought was that emilia nad marka would sit in silence together but then i was like #nah emilia would definitely take marka as a challenge and marka would not enjoy that #asks

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killinbills · 1 year

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how do u think your ocs would get along if they all were in the same universe (at the same time lol) ??

okay okay so:

- fianna is briar’s aunt anyway, but i can see them being really close since they’re so similar. fianna would visit all of the time growing up, and get giddy there was a mini her running around. i can also see fianna taking mia and holly under her wing too. holly because they’re arguably the most similar (fianna is a mix of briar and holly, but i feel like she leans more holly — plus, with reg, she’d want to look out for someone who could quite easily become swayed by their family’s beliefs) and mia because she’s essentially fee’s niece too.

- ruby and isabelle would also be really close; i can imagine isabelle being ruby’s friend in nyc when she drops in for work, and they go out together. i don’t know if they’d tell each other about their powers (why would they lol) but they frequently get into instances where one thinks something’s up with the other.

- i also think ruby and mia would get along? their powers are relatively similar, and their boyfriends are the same in different fonts lol. i think ruby is just the more self-assured version of mia lol. apart from that… honestly i think ruby would find all of my hp ocs annoying lmao. (but then, maybe that’s why she’d get along with mia so well)

- and, of course, fianna and emilia would get along SO well!! fianna is seen as sirius’ lil sister, and i think emilia would definitely adopt her too in that sense

i’ve done this ask before i think so i thought i’d focus on my two newest ocs, ruby and fianna🩷

ask me questions!🍒🩷

#asks #ch: isabelle oswald #ch: mia black #ch: emilia salvatore #ruby brenner #briar crouch #fianna lupin #i forgot to post this earlier lol

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nyxlvslicha · 7 months

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De Visitantes - [ Julienzo ]

One Shot

Palabras: 4.9k

Género: Fluff

ღ Donde Julián y Olivia le quieren dar una sorpresa a Enzo yéndolo a ver al estadio donde jugaba en su nuevo equipo, el Chelsea, después de haber llegado de sorpresa para festejar San Valentín con su novio. ღ

Desde que llegó a Alemania, específicamente a Dortmund, el frío clima y la noche le dieron la bienvenida no muy diferente a donde estaba viviendo ahora. A pesar de que llevaba poco más de un año soportando día a día vivir con esa temperatura envolviendo su cuerpo, su cuerpo no se acostumbraba a ello.

Tampoco era fanático del calor porque fielmente creía que a nadie le gustaría el calor si viviera un verano en Argentina con 45 grados respirándote en la nuca. Pero notó el cambio y su cuerpo fue el que más lo sufrió.

¿No podían hacer 15 grados aunque sea, en lugar de 5?

Arregló su bufanda para tapar sus orejas mientras caminaba por las calles alemanas, en busca del departamento donde se hospedaba Valentina, la ex novia de Enzo.

Después de que volvieron a encontrarse en el mundial de Qatar, las cosas cambiaron para la pareja luego de que Enzo le confesara que le gustaba su mejor amigo, algo que Valentina había sospechado desde hace bastante tiempo. Desde que lo conoció notó que miraba a Julián con otros ojos, una mirada que ni siquiera a ella le dedicaba.

Su cariño era diferente, llevaban muchos años siendo amigos y Valentina entendió que no podía hacer nada para impedir que estuvieran juntos. Y tampoco iba a juzgarlo porque Julián era una persona muy linda, más allá de lo físico, si hubiera tenido la oportunidad, probablemente ella también se hubiera enamorado del cordobés.

Terminaron en buenos términos y siguieron viéndose cada cierto tiempo y hablándose cada vez que podían para que Olivia pudiera seguir estando con su padre aunque ellos ya no estuvieran juntos.

Que el Chelsea comprara a Enzo, genuinamente, fue lo mejor que le pudo pasar a Julián porque ahora estaban más cerca de lo que implicaba que viviera en Portugal y en consecuencia se podrían ver más seguido. Después de cuarenta días en Qatar, las cosas mejoraron entre ellos e incluso se atrevieron a empezar a salir después de que Enzo le robara un beso al ganar la final contra Francia.

Y ahí estaba, yendo a visitar a su novio de sorpresa. Era 13 de febrero y quería pasar el día de San Valentin con él por lo que le había mentido diciendo que tenía que entrenar con el Manchester City porque pronto jugarían los octavos en la Champions League, y que no iba a poder ir al estadio donde jugaría el Chelsea como visitante.

Se contactó con Valentina para contarle su plan y la chica se copó con alegría, sabiendo que Enzo tal vez estaría un poco estresado por todo lo que conllevó dejar un país en el que había estado viviendo casi medio año y ser el foco de la prensa durante esas semanas desde que llegó al Chelsea.

Le mandó la dirección de su departamento y él decidió ir caminando porque no era muy lejos del aeropuerto. Con su mochila en su espalda y un millón de abrigos puestos, se encaminó en su travesía.

Julián de verdad se rió cuando Enzo le respondió con un ":(" al decirle que no iba a verlo, sin creerse que el ahora chico de 22 años fuera tan ingenuo como para creerle. El día de mañana iba a ser el primer 14 de febrero que pasarían como novios, no iba a perdérselo por nada.

Más de una vez lo habían pasado juntos en una supuesta "doble cita" que siempre terminaba con Emilia enojándose con él porque no le prestaba atención. Qué culpa tenía él que Enzo le hiciera reír con cualquier boludez que hacía o le sacara temas de conversación más interesantes que el nuevo bolso que había sacado una marca de ropa.

Sí, él también terminó con su ahora ex novia.

Se dio cuenta que no había sido lo que esperaba y estar de nuevo más de un mes con su mejor amigo le hicieron notar que correspondía los sentimientos del bonaerense.

Tocó el timbre del edificio donde se hospedaba la ex novia de Enzo y pronto vio la cara de la chica con una sonrisa por verlo.

—Hola, Juli —lo saludó, abrazándolo con cariño mientras él susurraba un suave saludo—. ¿Cómo te fue en el viaje?

—Bien, tranquilo por suerte —respondió con timidez.

Todavía no se acostumbraba a estar tan casualmente con Valentina como si fuera su amiga de toda la vida y no la ex de su novio. Seguro se sentía así por todo ese mito de que uno no podía ser amigos de sus ex novios porque se tenían que llevar mal, y él incluso cumplía ese mito.

Seguro Emilia odiaba con toda su alma a Enzo y lo culpaba de que se hubieran separado, jamás lo recibiría en su casa como un amigo más. Aún no entendía cómo Valentina no actuaba de esa forma. Tal vez es porque tienen una hija juntos, pensó pero no estaba muy seguro.

—Vení, pasá que hace frío —le indicó al sentir el cuerpo del mayor temblar ligeramente por la fría brisa de Alemania.

El lugar era bastante lindo y cálido, por lo que empezó a sacarse su abrigo y la bufanda para que no le diera calor ahí dentro.

—¿Querés tomar algo antes de que salgamos? —Julián terminó aceptando porque un café para pasar el frío no le venía mal.

Una vez dentro, observó a Esteban, el novio de Valentina, sentado en el sillón del living, jugando con la castaña de sonrisa igual de blanquecina que su padre. Valentina por mientras, fue a la cocina para prepararle un café.

La niña al verlo, le brillaron los ojos y corrió hacia él con una sonrisa.

—Uliii. —La escuchó llamarlo, sin poder aún pronunciar bien su nombre. Julián en el fondo se murió de ternura por la niña porque traía puesta la camiseta azul del Chelsea con el nombre de su padre.

Ciertamente Olivia le había agarrado cariño por todas esas veces que Enzo y él se juntaban cuando al chico le tocaba pasar unos días con ella. Y lo curioso era que Olivia solamente parecía tenerle confianza a él, porque cuando estaban todos los de la selección, ni siquiera se podía separar de la pierna de su padre por la timidez.

Pero Julián era Julián, él enamoraba a todo el mundo, incluso a los niños.

—Hola, mi amor, ¿cómo estás? —El apodo le salió inconscientemente y miró un poco alarmado al otro chico allí presente, tal vez se enojaba por la confianza.

Pero solo lo vio sonriendo mientras lo miraba, feliz porque Olivia también lo estuviera.

Se sentía muy seguro en ese ambiente donde nadie lo juzgaba.

Cargó a la niña con sus brazos y la sostuvo al costado de su cuerpo, observando la felicidad de Oli por verlo de nuevo después de casi tres meses sin hacerlo, desde la final del mundial.

—Bien —respondió con una sonrisa, abrazándolo por el cuello—. ¿Vas a ir con nosotros a ver a papá? —El tono de voz de la niña le dio ternura y no pudo evitar contagiarse de su felicidad, asintiendo con la cabeza.

Olivia soltó un pequeño "siii" mientras se movía con felicidad en sus brazos.

Valentina volvió con una taza con café en sus manos e inmediatamente sonrió al ver la escena del ahora novio de Enzo con su hija en brazos. Le tenía un gran aprecio a Julián por siempre cuidar de ella y hacerla feliz.

—Tomá —le ofreció la chica y él le agradeció.

Apenas dio un sorbo al café, sintió su cuerpo calentarse cosa que agradeció demasiado por lo friolento que era. Vio la hora en el reloj que había en el reloj colgado en la pared del living y vio que eran las ocho y media de la tarde y faltaba media hora para que empiece el partido, así que deberían ir partiendo.

Dejó a Oli de nuevo en el piso y le revolvió el pelo con cariño, obteniendo un puchero y las cejas fruncidas de la niña. Rió en respuesta y dio un sorbo al café restante.

—¿Puedo pasar al baño para cambiarme? —preguntó y Valentina asintió, indicándole dónde era con una seña de manos mientras agarraba la taza que tenía Julián en sus manos.

Casi que corrió al baño para encerrarse ahí y sacarse la mochila. La abrió y de esta sacó la camiseta azul del equipo londinense con el número cinco y el nombre de Enzo en la parte trasera.

Después de cambiarse, se miró al espejo y sonrió por lo bien que se sentía estar vestido con una ropa de su novio, aunque no fuera específicamente de él porque la había comprado en Manchester antes de viajar. Sin poder aguantarse sacó su celular y se sentó en el lavamanos, dándole la espalda al espejo, pero volteándose ligeramente para que se viera su rostro sonriente mientras encuadraba la foto para que se viera tanto él como el nombre en la camiseta.

A esa foto le faltaba Enzo entre sus piernas abrazándolo por la cintura mientras le besaba el cuello.

Se sonrojó por su propio pensamiento y le echó la culpa a no haberlo visto durante tres meses. Extrañaba mucho cualquier tipo de cercanía con el menor, definitivamente no era lo mismo hablar por videollamada o mandarse mensajes. Necesitaba abrazarlo y besarlo en persona.

Después de eso solo se bajó del mueble de cerámica y terminó de arreglarse, guardando en la mochila la remera que se había sacado y su celular en el bolsillo de su pantalón.

Salió del baño con sus cosas en las manos y se acercó a donde había dejado su abrigo para ponérselo y poder enfrentar de nuevo al frío clima.

El camino al estadio en el auto de Esteban fue tranquilo. La pareja se encontraba adelante y él estaba sentado en el asiento detrás de Valentina mientras que Olivia detrás del novio de la chica, para que así su madre pudiera verla todo el tiempo por si necesitaba algo.

Pero Olivia estuvo bastante cómoda, intentando hablar y jugar con Julián todo el tiempo que pudieran antes de que tuvieran que separarse de nuevo. A pesar de que Oli lo había distraído bastante, seguía estando nervioso por toda la situación y el sentimiento fue incrementando a medida que estaban más cerca del estadio.

¿Y si Enzo se enojaba con él por haberle mentido? Realmente sería el peor escenario que podía enfrentar, pero no podía evitar pensar en esa posibilidad. Estaba estresado, tal vez reaccionaba mal y tendría que tirar a la basura su idea de pasar San Valentin juntos.

Estaba cagado las patas.

Cuando llegaron al lugar, se dirigieron a la entrada y Valentina se encargó de hacerlos pasar a los cuatro con las entradas del palco exclusivo para familiares de los jugadores del Chelsea, mientras que el guardia les ponía una pulsera azul.

Era extraño para él verlo con la camiseta azul después de haberse acostumbrado a verlo con la roja del Benfica, pero tenía que admitir que se veía muy atractivo, incluso creía que el azul le quedaba mejor en contraste con su piel que el rojo.

Estuvo todo el partido medio embobado viendo a su novio jugar, quitando la pelota con rapidez, dando sus pases por arriba del campo, rematando al arco con una pelota que casi fue gol de no ser porque el arquero la atajó o incluso cómo en un momento dejó su rol en el mediocampo para intentar defender la única pelota que entró en su portería. Siempre daba lo mejor en cualquier partido y eso era una de las tantas cosas que amaba de Enzo. Constantemente quería mejorar y superarse a sí mismo, una forma de ser que tenía desde que ambos estaban en River. Tal vez sus sentimientos por él se habían desarrollado hace mucho tiempo y recién ahora era consciente de eso.

A pesar de que el equipo local terminó por hacerles un gol y el Chelsea no pudo empatarle, sabía que su novio había dado todo en la cancha y estaba feliz por él, y era algo que quería recordárselo siempre.

La ansiedad y el nerviosismo volvieron a atacarlo a medida que el partido empezaba a finalizar.

No mucho tiempo después, los hinchas empezaron a abandonar el estadio y Valentina agarró a Olivia de la mano para empezar a dirigirse a la salida, donde en algún momento saldrían los jugadores y donde Valentina había quedado con Enzo para que Olivia pudiera verlo.

Sin embargo, tal vez esperar afuera con el frío que hacía no era la mejor opción y el estacionamiento estaba lejos, así que se ofreció a llevar a Olivia al pasillo que daba a los vestuarios, donde seguro lo encontraba más rápido. Además, puede que quisiera verlo a solas pero no admitiría eso en voz alta.

Valentina pareció estar de acuerdo y le dio el visto bueno para que se llevara a su hija. Confiaba en Julián, sabía que no le iba a pasar nada.

El cordobés se sintió bien por la confianza que le tenía Valentina y no tardó en cargar a Olivia como había hecho hace unas horas. Ya casi eran las 11 de la noche, por lo que el frío había aumentado y no creía que fueran a dejarle estar tanto tiempo en el estadio, al menos no si lo veían solo.

Bajó las escaleras y se acercó a la entrada del edificio que llevaba a los vestidores. Vio a un guardia detrás de la valla, así que decidió ir a hablar con él aunque se muriera de la vergüenza por su inglés de barrio.

—Hi, can i see Enzo Fernández? She's his daughter —habló como pudo, mostrándole el brazalete azul que tenía en la muñeca para indicarle que había estado en el palco de familiares.

Por suerte el de seguridad asintió a su pedido, abriéndole la reja para que pudiera pasar. Le agradeció y empezó a adentrarse al lugar, sintiendo su pulso acelerarse por la emoción y los nervios.

El pasillo estaba vacío, a excepción de alguna que otra persona que iban de un lado a otro, dándolesuna mirada disimulada, aparentemente todos estaban ya yéndose o terminando se asearse para hacerlo.

Hasta que vio a dos siluetas a unos metros de ellos, uno tenía el número 11 en su espalda y el otro el número 5. Sonrió con emoción y Olivia los vio también, por lo que se puso feliz mientras seguían caminando.

—Papiii. —La voz de la niña retumbó en el pasillo cuando estuvieron más cerca y Enzo no tardó en darse vuelta al reconocer la voz de su hija.

Pero se quedó quieto el ver quién la acompañaba, sorprendido de verlo ahí después de que le dijera que tenía que entrenar en Manchester.

João Felix, quien se encontraba a su lado, imitó sus movimientos en cuanto Enzo cortó la conversación por el llamado de Olivia. Casi al instante reconoció quién era ese chico y sonrió al ver cómo los ojos de Enzo brillaron y sonreía con sus dientes, demasiado feliz. El número 11 nunca había visto esa expresión en su rostro en el poco tiempo que llevaba con ellos, ni siquiera cuando se contaban chistes y reían.

Enzo casi que corrió a abrazar a su novio por la cintura, demasiado feliz porque estuviera ahí, sintiendo que su corazón se derretía al verlo con su hija en brazos y los dos con su camiseta.

Eran las dos personitas que más amaba en el mundo y que estuvieran ahí lo hizo olvidar de todo lo malo. Ya no importaba que tuviera problemas para comunicarse con el inglés ahora que vivía en Londres, ni que acabaran de perder el tercer partido en el que jugaba, ni mucho menos que ahora la prensa lo haría responsable del equipo solo porque era campeón del mundo y lo habían comprado por 121 millones de euros, dos cosas con las que muchas personas no estaban de acuerdo.

Olivia movió sus manitos para alcanzar a su padre y Julián se vio apretado entre los dos cuerpos, aunque al final terminó riendo porque los dos eran igual de cariñosos.

—Pensé que no ibas a poder venir —murmuró contra su cuello, produciendo que el cordobés riera y se removiera levemente por las cosquillas que le causó su respiración.

—¿Sorpresa? —respondió no del todo seguro con qué decir en esa situación. Seguía teniendo una pequeña opresión en su pecho, pero saber que el menor estaba feliz, también lo ponía feliz a él—. Mañana va a ser el primer San Valentin que pasemos juntos como novios, no me lo podía perder.

Recién en ese momento Enzo pareció caer en cuenta de qué fecha era. Había estado tan abrumado con el papelerío que tuvo que tramitar para el fichaje, los entrenamientos, el conocer a gente nueva y la carga que tenía por "salvar al Chelsea" como muchos decían, que ni le había prestado atención al calendario.

Enzo se separó, con una expresión apenada, no había preparado nada para su novio mientras que él había viajado hasta Alemania para verlo jugar y estar con él.

—No estuve pendiente de los días, perdón... —Fue todo lo que se sintió capaz de decir, sin animarse a mirarlo por si Julián se enojaba con él.

Pero Julián es un pan de Dios, cómo iba a enojarse con él.

—No importa Enzu, entiendo que hayas estado con la cabeza en todo esto. —El tono gentil del mayor lo hicieron hacer un pequeño puchero mientras lo miraba, no era justo que tuviera un novio tan lindo.

Sin pensar demasiado sus movimientos ni dónde estaban, el cordobés se paró levemente en puntitas de pie para contrarrestar esos casi diez centímetros de diferencia que tenían de estatura. Sus labios se tocaron por unos segundos en un beso demasiado tierno que hizo sonreír al bonaerense con una expresión de embobado.

—Vocês são noivos? —escuchó al número 11 del Chelsea hablar detrás suyo y, a pesar de que Julián no sabía tanto portugués como Enzo, en ese momento sintió que se había sacado un masterclass en el idioma porque lo entendió a la perfección.

Toda la timidez y vergüenza que no había tenido para besar el número 5, terminó por atormentarlo en ese momento. No supo dónde meterse para no tener que mirar al portugués que los miraba con una pequeña sonrisa en sus labios.

Ahora tenía más sentido la emoción de su compañero de equipo al ver a ese chico.

Enzo miró a João Felix algo apenado, pensando que tal vez ya se había ido de ahí porque él prácticamente lo había abandonado. Pero no, el chico estaba ahí mirando a la pareja con ternura.

El portugués había sido una de las primeras personas con las que había hablado en el entrenamiento, primero porque manejaba más o menos el idioma después de vivir medio año en Portugal y segundo porque el chico parecía ser un gran admirador suyo desde que le dio ese pase milagroso contra el West Ham que les permitió hacer un gol.

Incluso hasta lo había medio argentinizado haciéndolo probar el mate.

Volviendo al tema de ellos. Ambos habían hablado muchas veces de qué querían hacer con su relación de cara al público y los dos estuvieron de acuerdo en que no necesitaban ni harían ningún tipo de "anuncio formal" donde dijeran "sí, somos novios, estamos saliendo hace tres meses aunque nos gustabamos desde antes", porque realmente no lo consideraban necesario.

Pero tampoco querían tener que privarse de demostrar cariño cuando quisieran o publicar una foto en instagram porque les parecía algo lindo de hacer. Más allá de que a otras personas les pareciera algo incorrecto o ilógico de hacer, quisieron dejar que sus sentimientos decidieran cómo actuar.

Los dos sabían en qué momento y por cuánto tiempo podían permitirse hacerlo—a excepción de ese momento, pero solo porque Julián lo extrañaba—, así que no les preocupaba demasiado ese tema.

Si la prensa quería hablar, que hablara. Enzo estaba incluso dispuesto a volver a jugar en el potrero si ningún club lo aceptaba por gustarle Julián. Ciertamente, su amor por él era mayor al que le tenía al fútbol de clubes. Haría lo que fuera para estar con él.

—Não diga nada sobre isso, por favor —le pidió Enzo a su compañero de equipo, con un poco de miedo de que João Felix dijera algo al resto del equipo y eso se volviera un tema de conversación. No quería volver a ser el centro de atención, solo quería pasar desapercibido por un rato.

Julián no pudo evitar sentir que su estómago se revolvía al escucharlo hablar en portugués porque se escuchaba muy bien hablando el idioma. Se golpeó mentalmente por pensar eso en esos momentos, repentinamente sintiéndose nervioso porque el bonaerense en ningún momento quitó sus manos de su cintura, aunque se volteó un poco para ver a su compañero.

—Não vou falar nada —respondió, terminanso de agarrar sus cosas para retirarse—. Vou pra casa então, te vejo mais tarde —se despidió el número 11, no sin antes dirigirle una mirada al otro argentino—. Adeus, namorado do Enzo.

El mencionado lo miró con vergüenza, queriendo darle una patada por molestarlo, pero cuando reaccionó el portugués ya se había ido casi corriendo.

Julián se quedó callado por unos segundos, intentando procesar lo que había dicho el portugués porque había sido demasiado en poco tiempo.

—¿Qué dijo? —preguntó, siendo más fácil que darle vueltas en su cabeza.

—Que no iba a decir nada —respondió, volviendo a girarse hacia el chico del City pero esta vez con una expresión avergonzada, sin querer del todo traducir eso porque le daba vergüenza—. Y te llamó mi novio.

Ahora estaban en una competencia de quién se avergonzaba más porque muy diferente era que entre ellos jodieran con eso a que alguien más los llamara así.

Si eran sinceros, aún no se acostumbraban a todo eso de ser parejas. Si bien antes de empezar a salir ya tenían "roces" o momentos donde eran muy cariñosos entre ellos, ahora se sentía diferente actuar así, no era igual que cuando eran mejores amigos—aunque lo seguían siendo, pero ahora había amor romántico de por medio—.

—Suena bonito —opinó Julián con una sonrisa cuando pudo salir de ese estado de vergüenza.

Enzo lo miró por unos segundos y se sintió más calmado porque no se hubiera enojado por la respuesta de João Felix. Iba a agregar algo más pero su hija lo interrumpió, después de no haber hablado en todo ese rato probablemente intimidada por la presencia del portugués.

—¿Qué es "novio"? —preguntó mientras se chupaba la punta de uno de sus dedos y miraba con curiosidad a su padre.

Enzo sonrió por la ternura que le dio la niña.

—Se le dice así a una persona que quieres mucho mucho, que quieres estar con ella todo el tiempo que puedas y darle muchos cariños. —El tono cursi del bonaerense mientras lo miraba de reojo al pronunciar esas palabras, hicieron que sonriera aún un poco avergonzado.

—¿Entondes Juli puede ser mi novio? —preguntó con total inocencia, arrastrando las c y las s porque no las podía pronunciar bien, sonando más como una d. Olivia lo abrazó por el cuello y pegó su mejilla a la suya.

—No, porque es mío y yo no lo comparto —le respondió rápidamente mientras lo abrazaba por la cintura en un acto posesivo. Vio el puchero que hizo Olivia y Enzo le sacó la lengua, como burlándose de ella.

Julián rió por la actitud de dos. Parecía que estaba con dos niños y no solo uno.

—¿En serio te vas a pelear con tú hija? —preguntó en un susurro aún con gracia por la situación en la que estaba.

Enzo escondió su rostro en el hueco entre su cuello y su hombro mientras lo abrazaba ahora con fuerza, habiendo ansiado también por un contacto con el cordobés todos esos meses.

Cada día desde que llegó al Chelsea fue estresante y una presión para él que a veces no podía controlar, terminando con él en el baño llorando de la frustración por no poder hacer que el equipo ganase un partido. Ni siquiera había podido hablar con Valentina y mucho menos con Julián porque se sentía tonto teniendo esos sentimientos. Sabía que era muy pronto para que el cambio en el equipo se manifestara, aún tenían que ajustar muchas cosas, jugar muchísimo más hasta que cada uno conociera hasta el mínimo movimiento que iba a hacer el otro.

Aunque sabía eso, muchas veces no podía evitar sentirse derrotado cuando llegaba a su casa después de un partido o un entrenamiento, optando por simplemente acostarse y ahogar todos esos sentimientos durmiendo.

—Competencia es competencia —bromeó, intentando no remitirse a esos malos sentimientos porque no era buen momento, quería disfrutar estar con Juli—. Bueno, vamos con mamá, Oli —habló, separándose del delantero para poder agarrar a su hija entre sus brazos, seguro Julián se había cansado por alzarla todo el tiempo aunque no dijera nada.

—Pero quiedo estar con Uliii —lloriqueó con un tono caprichoso, sin querer separarse de él.

Enzo hizo un puchero porque su hija parecía amar más a su novio que a sus padres.

—Ahora que tu papi vive en Londres, nos vamos a poder ver más seguido, Oli —mencionó y los ojos de la niña brillaron con una sonrisa en su rostro.

—¿Lo prometés?

—Lo prometo —le respondió con una sonrisa mientras extendía su meñique hacia ella en una "pinky promise" que Olivia terminó agarrando con algo de dificultad por la diferencia de tamaño.

Enzo solo pudo sonreír, demasiado enamorado como para que le importara otra cosa que no fuera Julián hablando y haciendo reír a su hija mientras le daba besos en la cara.

Aquello pareció convencer a la niña, quien terminó yendo a los brazos de su padre para que caminaran hacia la salida del estadio para encontrarse con Valentina.

Durante el camino, el bonaerense estuvo mirando discretamente al mayor, sintiendo su mano sudar a pesar del frío. Se sentía demasiado nervioso e inseguro por lo que quería hacer, pero terminó mandando todo a la mierda al pensar en que en unos días iban a tener que separarse de nuevo. Si no aprovechaba su tiempo con Julián, después se iba a arrepentir.

Después de secar su mano libre en su pantalón, la acercó a la del cordobés, tomándola con timidez para terminar entrelazando sus dedos. La piel del chico estaba fría y en ese momento recordó lo friolento que era el mayor, por lo que terminó metiendo ambas manos en el bolsillo de su pantalón para calentarla.

Julián lo miró por unos segundos y no tardó en sonreír solo como él podía hacerlo, achicando los ojos y dejando ver sus dientes blancos. Estaba avergonzado y lo podía notar por lo rojas que se pusieron sus orejas debajo de la bufanda, pero probablemente él estaba igualno peor que el cordobés después de dar el primer paso.

Ninguno dijo nada y solo caminaron en silencio mientras sonreían por poder estar juntos de nuevo.

Cuando llegaron al auto del novio de Valentina, Enzo saludó a los dos con un beso en cada mejilla y Olivia volvió a los brazos de su madre con una sonrisa por haber podido ver a Julián, aunque sea por unas horas.

Valentina vio sus manos unidas compartiendo el bolsillo del bonaerense discretamente y solo sonrió con felicidad porque ahora estuvieran juntos de nuevo. Aunque Enzo no le dijera nada, sabía cuando estaba mal, después de todo habían estado mucho tiempo juntos.

—Ya nos vamos yendo, entonces. Deciles chau, Oli —habló la chica, haciendo su la niña agitara su mano hacia los dos.

—Chau papi, chau Uli —los saludó y los dos le devolvieron el gesto con una sonrisa.

Valentina les dedicó también un saludo.

—Pasenla lindo mañana —se despidió porque era obvio que lo iban a pasar juntos.

Una vez que se encontraron solos en el estacionamiento del estadio se sintió como un momento demasiado íntimo, con los dos sin poder dar un primer paso por pena.

Enzo se armó de valor para mirarlo de frente, sacando sus manos de su bolsillo, esta vez agarrando las dos entre las suyas para calentarlas con ese movimiento.

—¿Qué querés hacer ahora, mi amor? —le preguntó sin poder evitar el apodo cursi.

"Mi amor". Sonaba demasiado bonito en los labios del chico de los blues. Siempre se ponía tímido cuando le ponía apodos pero amaba que lo llamara de esas formas.

—¿Qué te parece tomar mate y charlar hasta las tres de la mañana? —Enzo rió por su propuesta para nada nueva, porque siempre que se juntaban hacían lo mismo.

—¿No te cansas de siempre lo mismo?

—No, ¿y vos? —cuestionó porque tal vez Enzo quería hacer otra cosa.

—No.

—¿Entonces es un trato? —preguntó con emoción, con los ojos brillándole por poder ponerse al día con su novio de todo lo que habían vivido en esos tres meses cada uno por su cuenta.

—Sí, es un trato —accedió.

Sin poder evitar el contacto, Enzo buscó sus labios y Julián no lo rechazó, esta vez dejando que el beso fuera más largo e íntimo, si es que se lo podía llamar así.

Esa noche, definitivamente terminaron en el sillón del living de donde se hospedaba Enzo en Alemania hasta que volvieran a Londres, envueltos en sábanas y acurrucados en un abrazo mientras se pasaban mates el uno al otro, conversando sobre sus vidas.

Si se quedaron hasta las tres de la mañana o hasta las cinco, fue algo que solo ellos sabrían.

#julian alvarez #enzo fernandez #scaloneta #historias de nyx #argentina

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