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rockingrobin69 · 9 months

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Beast of a thing

“What can I get you?” asked a loud voice, and Harry rubbed his face till his eyes burned.

“Hmm?” was clearly not the right answer.

“Coffee? Seems like you might need one. And something to nibble on. Sweet or savoury?”

“I,” Harry said, which wasn’t that much better. The—person?—who kept pestering him was smiley and extremely bright-eyed. Leaned down to him over a dark-blue apron, half-conspiratorial, half amused.

“Sweet, I should think.”

How rude. Harry crawled in here to die peacefully, not be badgered about fucking coffee. But a few seconds—minutes?—later there was more bustling, and someone placed a cup right next to where he was holding his head. It smelled hot. It smelled good.

Before he could even make the decision, Harry’s hands grabbed it and—oops—spilled a little, never mind. Yeah, it burned. Yeah, whatever. Harry raised the cup with a shaky fist and sipped something horrible and scalding hot. He felt, absurdly, and for the first time in—he felt a little bit like a person again. How fucking embarrassing. How fucking inaccurate.

“There you go, darling,” this time armed with a scone. The smell of clotted cream made Harry’s eyes roll back, made him choke. The jam was even worse, so sweet he nearly gagged. “This should cheer you right up.”

He nearly, nearly laughed. Was too busy growling, rubbing his pointy teeth against his inner lip. Something in his expression must have finally registered with the perky waiter, since they hurried back, tray cluttering as they hit something. Harry could finally go back to his—

“What now?” to the movement from the corner of his eye, but—the smell hit him first, hit harder. Lemon zest and evergreen forest. Something so pleasant it made Harry whimper, made him close his eyes. The newcomer used this reprieve to sneak into the seat next to Harry, so close their knees were touching.

“What do you want?” Harry asked, or whined. It hurt behind his molars, it hurt in the pit of his stomach. The touch, the unbelievable pressure coming from deep, deep inside.

“Hello to you too, Potter. You’re not an easy man to find.”

“Not an easy man,” Harry managed.

“Not a man,” Malfoy countered.

“Not,” Harry, “interested. Go back to the Ministry and—”

“So you really haven’t heard? I quit.” When Harry chanced a look, Malfoy was busy examining his fingernails. He looked—he smelled—he—was an onslaught Harry couldn’t, wouldn’t withstand.

Instead of whimpering again, of being pathetic: “So what do you want? Why come all this way if it wasn’t some…”

“Scheme?” Malfoy uncrossed his legs, leaned back. Too fucking much; Harry’s mouth watered already. “Plot? Who said it wasn’t. Maybe I’m hunting you down all for myself now.”

“Why,” Harry growled.

“Maybe I didn’t like the way you left.” A rustle: Harry didn’t need to look to know what that sound was. “Dear Malfoy, I hope you’ll understand—”

“Enough.”

Malfoy’s gaze burned on his skin. Malfoy’s everything burned. “—there’s nothing else I can do—”

“Enough. Please.”

A bang, too loud; his fist on the table. The coffee cup trembled, didn’t spill. “Oh, is that too much? Hearing your own stupid words? You can take it, sweetheart. We’ve not even got to the good part yet.”

Harry tried to take cover behind his hand. “Please, it’s—”

“I think you might be my mate,” Malfoy quoted in the iciest tone Harry’s ever heard, “Which is exactly why I have to go—”

“I did!” hiding, hiding. “How could I stay, how could I do anything when I knew I’d be putting you at risk? The Ministry won’t stop. And even if—even if they did,” in this horrible, shaky voice. “What I’ve become—”

“A fucking idiot, you mean?”

Harry looked up.

Malfoy’s lips were so thin. “I don’t care what you are. I don’t care what they tried to make you into. You think I might be your mate and then you run? Sentence yourself to, what, a miserable, lonely existence just because you’re scared?”

The shudder took him so hard he nearly fell. “I can’t hurt you,” Harry said through gritted teeth. “I won’t.”

“You have, arsehole,” with exasperation that seemed oddly fond. “Come on, Potter. You didn’t even do me the courtesy of asking.”

“Asking?”

“Veelas have mates too. You’d know if you bothered to stick around.”

“They have—” something whirled in his belly, in his chest. Something sickening and bright. “Wait. Are you saying—what are you saying?”

“You can’t hurt me.” Malfoy bent closer. “Not in the way you imagine. Not if you stay and work it out like an adult. I won’t let the Ministry use you as a weapon. I won’t let anything—I’m saying you’re an idiot, and I’m an even bigger one, and that if you’d run from me again, you’ll regret it.”

A smile burst, baffled and hot between his cheeks. “You… are you serious?”

“You think I came all this way for a joke? I only commit to things that are worth my while.” His grey eyes, burning. “Are you worth my while?”

Helpless, he grabbed Malfoy’s hand. The scent of him in Harry’s nose, heavenly and far too strong: everything he could hope for, that he tried to escape. “Please,” Harry croaked.

Malfoy hummed, leaned back. Used his free hand to steal Harry’s scone. “I’m staying across the road. When you’re quite done—”

On his feet. “Done.” The edges of Malfoy’s lips twitched.

“Very well.” He got up, cast a look from under his endless lashes. “Potter. If you leave again—”

“I won’t,” Harry promised, and meant it. Won’t be able to, now that he had Malfoy back in his arms, smelling and looking and being like that. Now that Harry felt alive, and like a person, and also not. Better than any treat, sweet or savoury. Bitter and sour, lemon zest and evergreens: his Malfoy. His mate.

For my dear @generalpizzaengineer and their prompt 💖

#drarry fic #1k #creature fic #Us-Against-The-Ministry but vague #running away #break up/make up #light angst with a happy ending #rockingrobin69 #werewolf harry #veela draco #mates #(wow i don't even mean the friend kind OR the flat/house kind! who even am i?)

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blackcherryvelvet0909 · 6 months

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Snowcone Comfort (Neige x GN!Reader)

Content Warning: Mild angst, hurt/comfort, mild stalking, predatory behavior from unnamed minor character, harassment, celebrities being taken advantage of, mentions of past abuse and victim blaming (if I missed any let me know)

Note: This is over 5k words, I don't know what possessed me. I guess it was my feelings on the behavior of certain fans of celebrities that got me going. I also just really, really like what I did with Neige's banner. I hope you do as well!

You leisurely strolled past the various stores and eateries, briefly peeking into each window. Every other second someone passed you by, whether it be a single person or an entire family, on their own merry way to somewhere you didn’t know. A few entered one of the many buildings lining the sidewalk, while others disappeared around corners of the little township. Little, yes, but no less expensive and elaborate. Most of the objects and treats that were advertised in every shop window cost way more than you could afford. Honestly, you’d be lucky to find something in your budget. Purchasing something wasn’t your reason for coming here, however.

Earlier that morning, you and Ace made a bet: If you beat him at air hockey, he would watch Grim for the rest of the day so you could relax. If he won, you’d have to do his homework for a whole week when you returned to the college. Guess who won out? Ace was shocked, to say the least, as was your audience, Deuce and Grim. Lucky for you, Ace was the type to get real cocky when he thought he was going to win. That attitude had been prominent since you began your game; it was fairly easy to use it to your advantage. So now here you were, taking a much needed break from babysitting your monster cat.

You saw this little township on the bus ride into the resort when you and your fellow classmates arrived at the beach. Again, you had little money in your pocket, but it was just nice to get out and look around. See what could be seen in the quaint little tourist trap. You briefly wondered if Azul had struck up any business during the trip; if a certain fox and cat duo you’d met a little while ago had swindled a rich tourist or two when he’d possibly made port here. Your smile twitched up a little more as you saw the familiar face of Vil on a poster advertising a certain fragrance in a shop window. That must be where Vil stopped in to pick up that cologne for Rook and Epel. While the latter hadn’t been too keen on the (forced) gift, both men now smelled rather nice - nicer than usual, anyway.

Just as you were about to turn a corner, in a direction where you remembered Malleus mentioning there being a really nice ice cream shoppe, you were nearly sent backward. Someone smacked into you, which made you both stumble and gasp out. Your hand reached out and held onto the closet windowsill to stabilize yourself. When you looked up, you recognized the face of the person who ran into you: Neige LeBlanche. The man Vil hated (a bit of a strong word, but what other term was there for the man’s feelings towards the celebrity?) with all of his being. The last time you saw the young man - at least in person - was during the VDC, smiling away as he congratulated your friends for their performance. Now, though, his expression was troubled, almost frightened.

It wavered for a brief moment as he stared at you. “You…you’re [Name], right? One of Vil’s friends?”

Well, you weren’t sure if you were friends, per say, but… “Y-Yeah,” you replied.

Neige glanced behind him, that look of paranoia fresh in his eyes again. He turned back to you and grasped your hand, words hushed and urgent. “Please, help me hide! There’s a man after me and he - he’s not very nice.”

You couldn’t see behind Neige, his body blocking your view. Even so, you could feel the atmosphere change around you as you heard someone call out for the celebrity. It was friendly, but wrong at the same time. Without a word, you gently, yet firmly held Neige’s hand as you turned around and bolted down the sidewalk. You led Neige back the way you’d come; your head turned this way and that as you tried to find a place to hide him. You hadn’t entered any of the businesses yet - you weren’t sure if they were good places to hide. The shrubbery and other plant life around weren’t very good options, either.

“Hey!” You and Neige quickly glanced back to see a man hurriedly walk after you both. He was dressed sharply, in the fashion that was common for the locals here. You got the sense he wasn’t a local, however - maybe just a guy trying to fit in. The vibe from him wasn’t good, either. The smile he wore…it sent a chill down your spine. Neige shivered so strongly you could feel it trail down to his hand.

“Where’re you going, Mr. LeBlanche?” He held out his arms as though he wanted a hug. “I just wanted an autograph.”

Neige didn’t have to ask you to hurry - you tugged him forward again, this time in a sprint. You frantically searched for a place to hide, just until the guy was out of sight. As you turned another corner, exiting the town, you found yourself at the edge of the beach. Golden sand spread out before you, the blue waves crashing onto shore a mile away. Suddenly, you had an idea. Your gaze landed on the small snack stand Sam had set up for the trip. “C’mon!” you whispered yelled to Neige behind you as you pulled him towards the little building.

The pale boy followed you without question, scared eyes peering behind him every other second to see if the man had found you both. As you reached the snack stand, you quickly threw up the little door that separated the counter from the store space. You rushed Neige inside before you shut it behind you both. You then directed Neige to sit below the counter, just out of sight. You followed close behind him, legs crossed and back flushed against the wall. Neige was in a similar position, the only difference being his knees were tucked up under his chin.

“Unless you two are looking for a summer job, I’m going to ask you to leave.” The two of you looked up at Sam, who now stood in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was stern, yet the quirk of his brow showed his confusion about your sudden appearance. “As I know your status, Mr. LeBlanche, I know you are not strapped for cash. As for you, little imp-”

“We’re hiding from this creep,” you interrupted. “He won’t leave Neige alone.” You glimpsed Neige nodding his head in agreement, too afraid to speak. It seemed what you’d garnered from the situation was correct.

Sam’s gaze fleeted upwards and over the counter. Without breaking his gaze from the outside world, he asked, “Who? The one with the brown hair and last year’s bootlegged designer sandals?”

Sam could tell what designs were forgeries? Of course he could. Why did you even think otherwise? “Yes.”

The shopkeep was silent for a few seconds as he examined the man. He must be approaching the snack stand - Neige let out the faintest whimper. You reached how to hold his hand again and gave it a squeeze to try and comfort him. To your surprise and relief, the boy returned it. Finally, Sam spoke in a hush whisper of his own. “Stay as long as you like. I’ll take care of this.”

Before either of you could express your thanks, you heard someone approach the counter. You didn’t think Neige’s complexion could get any paler…poor guy. He scarcely breathed as Sam addressed the man - neither did you. “Hello there! Welcome to my little snack shop. What can I get for you?”

Your assailant didn’t respond at first. His shadow stretched over the counter and onto the floor in front of you; you thanked whatever god there was that you and Neige’s shadows were obscured by the counter. “Have you seen two kids running around?” the man asked, completely ignoring Sam’s question. “You know Neige LeBlanche, right?”

“Who doesn’t?” Sam answered rhetorically.

“I was supposed to get a picture with him, but he disappeared before I could get my phone out. You wouldn’t have happened to see him come by?”

“Hm…can’t say I have.” Sam’s lie was flawless, amplified by the little shrug of his shoulders. “Last time I saw him, he was on TV. He’s here at the resort? Huh, news to me.” Sam leaned forward. “How much does he charge for pictures, anyhow? I figure it must cost a pretty good few madol.”

The man’s snicker made your stomach churn. “I’ve got a few ways around that. I rarely get a no with my face, y’know?~” Gross.

“Well, I’m sorry to say I haven’t seen him.” You barely glimpsed Sam gesture with his thumb towards the small town where you and Neige had come from. “Though…I did see someone kinda like him get into a cab just now. It looked like it was turning towards the city.”

The creep hummed in thought, satisfied by his answer. “Thanks for the tip,” he said. He then placed something down onto the counter. “For your trouble.”

“Much appreciated~” Sam gave the man his signature salesman wink and smile. “Come by next time you’re craving something cool and sweet. I’ve got everything you need.” The man said something in return, but the two of you couldn’t make it out. For several long minutes, not another word was spoken - the only sounds to be heard were the wirring or the large freezers, fridges, and other kitchen contraptions situated about the floor. Finally, Sam took a step back and peeked down at you two. “Alright, the coast is clear now. Guy won’t be back for a while.”

Neige breathed out a long sigh of relief. He brought his hand up to slip the black sun hat he’d been wearing off his head, the red ribbon adding a pop of color to the accessory. Aside from the hat, he was almost dressed like a sailor boy. “I like your outfit,” you commented, trying to lighten the mood. “It looks really good on you.”

Neige, despite still looking a tad shaken, gave you a smile. “Th-Thank you. I bought it shortly before myself and the rest of my classmates came here to the beach. I thought it’d be better suited for the hot weather.”

“Well, no sense in getting it dirty then.” You crawled out from under the counter and stood up before offering a hand out to Neige. Your smile was encouraging, despite the previous situation. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. Where were you heading before, uh…he came?”

Neige followed your lead and got out from under the counter. Even after he stood up, however, he didn’t let go of your hand. Perhaps it provided comfort for him. “I was heading back to the resort - the one beside on the other side of town, I mean, not the one you’re staying in. I promised Che’nya I would meet up with him to go swimming. I just stopped in town to pick up a bottle of the perfume that Vil was talking about on his Magicam.”

“Really? Were you interested in the scent?”

“That’s part of the reason, yes, but I really just wanted to support Vil. He seemed so happy about the sponsor.”

‘That’s fucking adorable’, you thought.

“I’ll have to get some later.” He timidly glanced out towards town, where the guy had surely disappeared off to. “I…I don’t want to go back in there right now.”

“Just so you know, he took a cab out to the city.” Sam shot you two a grin as he sorted through a large freezer under the left counter of the store. “Pretty good lie, huh?”

“It’s not good to lie,” Neige gifted the shopkeeper a tiny, shy smile, “but I do appreciate you doing that for us. Thank you, Mr…?”

“Sam’s fine,” Sam chuckled.

Neige nodded. “Thank you, Sam. Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

Sam seemed to think the prospect over for a minute as he shuffled around a few white paper cones. His answer was not what you expected. “Nah, it’s alright. No favors needed - I was just doing what’s right.” He scooped some shaved ice into two paper cones he held in his other hand. “Though, if you’d like, I can get you that perfume.”

“Really?” Neige’s pupils were as big as saucers. “You can do that?”

“Mhm.” Sam placed the cones into two circular plastic holders in front of several colorful pumps. He then reached behind his back - when he brought his gloved hand back out, he was holding a small, luxurious pink paper bag. “Anything to please a customer~”

Now Neige’s eyes were almost bugged out of his head. “That’s-! How did you-?”

“I have my ways.” Sam offered Neige the bag - the celebrity delicately took it. He looked into the bag in wonderment. You couldn’t help but sneak a peek yourself; sure enough, there was the bottled fragrance you’d seen in that advertisement earlier. It was really pretty, its body a crystal dark purple bottle with a small black, glass cork. Very much a product Vil would be associated with. “For the trouble you went through today, I’ll even give you a discount,” Sam offered.

‘Damn, why can’t he be this generous all the time?’ you wondered.

“Thank you so much!” Neige beamed. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight…man, no special effects needed for this man. “How much do I owe you?”

“With the discount, it’ll be 30,000 madol.”

You almost choked on your own spit. Holy shit that was a lot of money! And he gave Neige a discount? How much was it full price?! Did you even want to know? Without a second thought, Neige reached into his pocket and retrieved a cute wallet, its dark blue leather decorated with embroidered blue birds. Man, Neige’s aesthetic was pretty consistent, huh?

In the next instant, the exact amount was in Sam’s outstretched hand - and there was still a good bit left in Neige’s wallet. Seven, you wondered if you’d have half that much if Crowley actually paid you for all the things you did for him. As Neige zipped the little pouch back up, Sam briefly counted the bills before folding them and putting them in his pocket. “A pleasure doing business with you, Mr. LeBlanche~” He then swiftly turned around back to the cones filled with shaved ice. “What flavors do you two prefer?”

“Um…strawberries and cream are always a delight for me, but I also like any other kind of fruit.” Neige replied.

“[Favorite flavor(s)]” you answered.

Without a flourish of fast hands, Sam pumped colorful flavored syrups onto the small domes of shaved ice. In no time, there were two snowcones in his hands, one held out for each of you to take. “On the house,” he said. “For many, sweets are just the thing to cheer someone up after something so scary.”

While you eyed the frozen treat was suspicion, Neige took it without complaint. “Thank you so much, Mr. Sam! You’re too kind!”

“...what are you getting out of this from me?” you asked. How many times have you accepted something for “free” and it backfired on you later?

“No tricks or schemes here, little imp,” Sam promised. His smile wasn’t deceiving, nor did his eyes hold any devious plan. The shopkeep looked genuine - proud, even. “Take it as a reward for such a selfless act, saving Mr. LeBlanche the way you did.”

You hesitated for a moment longer, then finally took the snowcone. As you expected, it was your favorite flavor, just as you’d said. For once, a good deed of yours had led to a prize - with no strings attached.

“Now, you two run along.” Sam strode past you two and opened the little door you’d entered a little while before. “No doubt you two have other things to do. That, and I’ve got my shop to run.” He shot you two another playful wink as he added, “Don’t eat those two fast, now.”

“We won’t,” Neige giggled. He held up his hand and waved as he and you began to walk away from the snack stand. “Thank you again, Mr. Sam. Have a good rest of your day!”

“You as well, little imps.”

Before you both could wander too far though, Sam’s voice suddenly echoed in your head. “Get your friend home safe, little imp. Don’t worry about the guy; remember, I’m taking care of it.” You could only imagine what that meant. Despite the ominous implications, you did agree with the shopkeeper: You needed to make sure Neige got home safe.

“Let me walk you back,” you offered. “I don’t want something else like that to happen.”

Neige’s expression was timid again, guilty even. “You really don’t mind?”

You shook your head and smiled. “Not at all! I’d want someone to do the same for me if I’d been in that situation.”

“I’m sure your friends would jump at the chance to do that for you.”

‘Yeah, I hope so too,’ you thought.

As the two of you walked back to the resort, munching your snowcones along the way, you couldn’t help but ask the question that’d been on your mind. “Who was that guy, anyway? Do you know him?”

You almost regretted the inquiry the moment it passed your lips. Neige’s face fell, head tilted downwards as he stared down at his feet. “I…don’t know. I never got his name, actually. He said he was a fan and asked for a picture - I was happy to oblige! I don’t mind whenever someone asks for a picture of me. But,” he stalled for a moment to take a deep breath - when he exhaled, he continued, “But I could tell he wanted more than a picture.

“He kept asking where I was staying, if I was doing anything that night, if I came to the resort alone…and he wouldn’t stop touching me.” Neige mildly gestured to his waist and chest, though was careful to not jostle the small bag clasped between his fingers too much. “I-In intimate ways, I mean.”

You hadn’t noticed how much you’d been neglecting your snowcone until you felt the cold, syrupy water drip down your fingers. You hastily lapped up the tiny streams before you spoke, eye contact solely focused on Neige’s big brown doe eyes - which, you noticed, were now slightly darkened by that fear you’d seen earlier. “He had no right to touch you like that.”

“I know!” Neige seemed almost relieved to be validated. “I’ve always been told that by Headmaster Ambrose, and my other teachers…and yet there are others who disagree. That man isn’t the first to handle me in such a manner. Thankfully he wasn’t the most forceful; there have been others who have told me I owe them such attention because of how much they support me. Pay to see my movies, buy products I endorse - things like that.” Neige looked like he was about to cry, and you felt like you were about to join him with what he said next.

“Even some people I’ve worked with - past managers, photographers, etc - have even said I’m selfish for denying my fans what they want.”

“And they’re all wrong.” Your words were so matter-of-fact that the boy almost appeared surprised. You stopped in your tracks, feet away from the entry gates of the resort where you knew Neige and other RSA students were residing for their trip. As if in tune with your steps, Neige stalled in turn. “Just because they support you and do all that stuff doesn’t mean they have the right to do that. They don’t own you. You’re not their property.”

You briefly threw your hands in the air. “I don’t know where people get that kind of audacity, entitlement, but they’ve gotta be batshit cra-!” You gasped as the flavored snow to atop your paper cone went crashing to the concrete path below. A hushed ‘aww man!’ breathed past your lips as you glared down at the colored frozen heap quickly melted from the heat of the asphalt. When your gaze flicked back to Neige, you saw he was equally as shocked and disappointed. You must look like two kids who just dropped their ice cream…that’s exactly what it was, really. You wouldn’t call yourself or Neige kids, however.

“Anyways,” you said, under a sigh of frustration at your blunder. So much for your only free treat of the trip. “Never, ever feel like you have to sit there and take what horrible things someone dishes out. You can walk away at any time - if someone faults you for that, fuck ‘em!” You watched as Neige’s hand flew up to cover his mouth, dainty bag crinkling in his hold. Oh yeah, Neige didn’t really curse, did he? Not that you knew of, at least.

“Sorry, sorry! I shouldn’t have cursed like that. Guess I’ve been around the guys too long.”

“N-No, it’s alright.” What you didn’t expect to hear was the smallest, most adorable giggle erupt from the young man’s throat. “You would be surprised how many of my classmates curse. Che’nya nearly outdoes them all! He just keeps it down around our professors.” Well, you seemed to cheer him up from his previous depression; that was good. “That isn’t what I’m laughing about, though.”

“What’re you laughing about, then?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Well…you reminded me of Vil when you said all those things. We don’t talk very much (though I wish we would talk more often), but I have heard him give such a speech to others in the past. Beginning actors, mostly, but sometimes stage hands, assistants - many people he comes into contact with. He’s such a strong, inspiring person - one I wish to be one day.” Neige’s smile was so kind, so pure, you suddenly understood why Rook held such a fondness for the actor. The fact it was directed at you, not a fan or camera or something, gave you butterflies. “And now, I wish to be as strong and brave as you, [Name].”

You quickly grew flustered under the man’s adoring gaze. A blush crept its way up to your cheeks as you fumbled with your empty snowcone. “I mean, I’m not that brave.”

“Untrue!” Neige’s protest was so cute you couldn’t help but smile a little. “Che’nya told me that Trey told him how you helped Riddle come out of his overblot. That takes a lot of courage! I could never dream of facing such a thing!”

“It is pretty scary,” you admitted. “There were points in time I thought I was going to die, or at least get hurt. Sometimes I did get hurt…but I had friends to help me get out of those troubles.” While that blush stubbornly remained on your face, you met Neige eye-to-eye once more. “And that’s why you should tell a friend whenever that happens. Never be afraid to call out for help. Whether a celebrity or just a student, everyone needs it at some point.”

Your smile quirked up into a smirk. “If someone thinks otherwise,” you balled your free hand up into a fist and held it in front of you, “fuck ‘em.”

“Yeah!” Neige cheered, more enthusiastically than you thought he might. “Fuck ‘em!” The moment the naughty phrase left his lips, Neige let out a squeak and covered it again. His eyes darted in every direction, looking to see if anyone heard him. For once, to your luck, no one was about. As relief washed over the RSA second year, he went into another fit of giggles.

“Sorry!” he laughed. “I got too carried away.”

You shrugged away his apology. “Fine by me.” You shot him a wink as you pressed a finger to your lips. “I’ll never tell a soul~”

Neige tittered so sweetly you almost thought you heard it wrong. “I very much appreciate it.” The pretty boy glanced down at the wet patch of concrete where your icy treat once lay. “I’m sorry about your snowcone…”

You were also sorry, very disappointed, but you didn’t want to add another worry to the poor guy’s mind. So, you shrugged again and said, “Eh, it’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a snowcone - not like I can’t get another.” Partly a lie, as you didn’t know whether or not you could afford one with your extra tight budget. Maybe you could manage to convince a friend or professor to get you one in the future…

A little flinch jolted your body as a snowcone was thrust into your face. “Here,” Neige’s eyes practically glittered with determination, “take mine.”

You shook your head and put your hands out in front of you, one still partially clasping your now crumpled paper cone. “N-No, you don’t have to-”

“I want to.” Neige’s frowny pout morphed into yet another angelic smile. “Like you said, there will be more opportunities to get a snowcone. Che’nya talked about us and some of our friends getting some later - so, I want you to have mine.” Something popped into the boy’s mind, which caused him to falter in his resolve, but just a tad. “I-I hope you like strawberries and cream. That’s the flavor. It’s artificially flavored-”

“How can you tell it’s artificially flavored?” you asked, actually curious.

“My tastebuds are a little sensitive. Artificial strawberry tastes a bit different than actual strawberries do.”

Huh, cool talent. Whether or not you enjoyed the taste of either the fruit or the cream didn’t matter at the moment; Neige’s gesture was too sweet to pass up. That, and how many times would you receive such a selfless act? At Night Raven College, likely as slim a chance as you not encountering another overblot in the next month or so. You took the snowcone from the boy’s fingers - which were very soft to the touch, you now noticed - as your smile widened in gratitude. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Neige’s nod was so endearing you were starting to feel how Rook might have felt when he came face to face with his idol months ago. You were also beginning to see why Vil envied the man so much. He was irresistible! Neige folded his hands in front of his naval, fingers fidgeting with the handles of the pink bag as he spoke again. “Well, I best be going. Che’nya will grow worried if I don’t show up to the pool at the time we set.”

“You’re the punctual type?”

“Yes, very much. I wouldn’t want to be rude.”

“I don’t know,” you mused. “I think a little rebellion would look cute on you.” Well where in Wonderland did that come from? Since when were you a smooth operator? You watched as Neige’s pale face took on a pink tinge around his cheeks and nose, and a little at the tips of his ears. Did he…like that? For the way his voice came out a little shy, he must have.

“W-Well, I might have to take lessons from you on how to be rebellious later. I’ve never really thought about it…”

“Che’nya hasn’t dragged you into trouble yet? It seems to be a habit of his at Heartslabyul.”

“It is, yes. I could ask him, but I wouldn’t want to get into trouble at school, nor would I want to make Glynda angry-”

“Who’s Glynda?”

“My current manager.”

Ah.

“Although…” Neige peeked up at you again, an equally timid smile across his face. “I don’t have much scheduled for June. School will not be in session then; maybe, when we’re out for the summer, you could teach me a bit then?”

Wait…was he…? Nah, couldn’t be. THE Neige LeBlanche would not ask you on a date. With a cheery lint under your tone, you replied, “Yeah, sure! Just send me a te-” You thought about your dinosaur age, crap phone Crowley had graciously given you over winter break. You decided against your previous suggestion.

“Actually, just send me a letter or something. My phone’s…broken.”

“I’ll be sure to do so the moment the time comes.” Neige took a few steps back, about to take his leave. He lifted his hand and gave a little wave. “Well, goodbye, [Name]. Thank you for helping me. I hope we can spend more time together soon.”

“Yeah, I hope so too.”

In minutes, the man was gone, disappearing through the glass doors and into the hotel lobby. You stared after him for a few seconds more before you turned toward the front gates, making your way back to your own resort. It’d be quite the walk - you couldn’t afford a cab or bus, or whatever transport they had in the area. By the time you’d get back to your hotel, it’d be close to dinner time. No need to have someone send a search party out for you. So, you took a bit of a speedy pace as you walked out the open gates and down the road.

All the way back, you thought about the promise you made to Neige. You two hadn’t really talked before then; now, it seemed, you two were forming a friendship. To think your first hang out would be you teaching the good boy how to rebel! Just what would you teach him, you wondered. Maybe you could get Ruggie to teach you how to pick a lock…that would be a good start, right? And it’d be useful in sticky situations the young man might run into one day. The beauty couldn’t always rely on someone to come and save them!

Beauty…yeah, yeah Neige was really pretty. Your heart fluttered as you recalled how those big brown orbs beheld you as though you were the most wonderful thing in existence. Your own pupils trailed down to the snowcone in your hand. The icy crystals, bright red mixed with pale cream, twinkled in the sunlight. Little bites had been taken out of the treat by Neige earlier; to eat the shaved ice that’d graced the celebrity’s lips would almost be like giving him an indirect… With a heavy heart and a pang of guilt, you tossed the snowcone into the nearest garbage can. You just couldn’t do it - it felt too intimate for a boy you barely knew.

For now, at least.

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