#i wanna make this fairy ace-spec since i think im ace-spec too so we'll be twinning that would be so cool

[mirohtron]

pretty

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note: they're boyfriends <3 they just don't know it yet <3 this is my hill <3 also this may have a little bit of pl*t but that's 4 another day n yes the ending was rushed but blame my writer's bloqué

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The fairy looked so peaceful sleeping on the bed. Serene. Not a hint of that deviousness he'd have before the protagonist would leave and come home to a trashed house, not a hint of that malice and that spite he'd have watching the protagonist do anything, no matter how fleeting those emotions were, were on his face.

The fairy was like that, the protagonist supposed. Fleeting. Barely in the same room as him when he was fairy-sized, barely letting the protagonist get a proper look at his face, wings fluttering about, the fairy flitting away and above or underneath any furniture.

Sometimes it would feel like the protagonist was talking to a voice in his head with how the fairy barely showed himself.

When the fairy first changed to his human size, he still never let anything linger for long. Malevolence, spite, that happiness whenever something bad happened to the protagonist, they all flit across his features as quickly as they came. Never stayed for long, like he didn't want the protagonist to know him. Or his face, from how he'd never stay still when he was fairy-sized and how he never looked the protagonist right in the eye.

It felt odd. To see someone who laughed at every one of your mishaps and made trouble for you to not even have the courage to look you in the eye felt like it should be unusual. Maybe being big made the fairy feel vulnerable, made him feel less like a fairy and more like a human, even if he still had his powers and his wings that he could conjure and make disappear.

The protagonist looked at the way the fairy's hands curled into the fabric of the pillow and the way his elbows were pointed out, resting his back on the springy mattress, the evening light accentuating the curve of his lips, his nose, his eyes, like a painter had spent hours upon hours perfecting his features.

The fairy looked like someone out of a romantic painting. Just the way he slept seemed to have some kind of romanticism—he looked so relaxed, so comfortable. The way his eyelashes cast shadows on the curves of his cheeks, the way his hair fell perfectly on his face, curling, interlocking with each strand—pretty.

Mesmerising. The fairy looked mesmerising, and the protagonist never noticed. Even though the fairy slept a lot, was tired often, the protagonist never noticed, even if he was a little fleeting most of the time.

Even with those little moments they'd have—so rare the protagonist found it a little tough to recall one specific moment—he never noticed how mesmerising the fairy could be.

The one moment, it was a bad rainstorm. So bad the electricity temporarily cut off for some houses. The fairy had become human-sized and sat with the protagonist on the couch and in the dark, and they'd fought over who held the little flashlight. Thunder had struck, lighting up the room, and the fairy had looked beautiful in that one moment of light. The glint in his eyes intensified, the groove below his nose a little pronounced, and the shape of his lips looking pretty, pretty, pretty.

It felt like the image had been burned into his mind for that one fleeting moment.

The protagonist didn't need to look to know the sun had almost set. Yet, the fairy was still bathed in its light, flawless

Still mesmerising.

Almost as mesmerisingly, the fairy stirred in his sleep. The protagonist felt like he was enchanted by him somehow, even if it sounded a little cliché. Could it even be cliché, when something mythical was involved?

Slowly, just as relaxed, the fairy's eyes fluttered open, and the protagonist watched every move. So serene and pretty, and still so romantic somehow. He looked like he was about to stretch, but stopped when his gaze fell on the protagonist.

The skin around the fairy's collarbones sucked in as he took in a breath through his teeth, the muscles in his neck contracting as he swallowed. The protagonist couldn't help but look, follow the movement, watch it all happen in a few slow beats like a pretty painting had come to life.

The fairy shifted, but didn't make a move to sit up. Instead, his gaze roamed the room, looking around and to the other side of the room, and the muscle in his neck stretched prettily at the movement, like a brushstroke on a portrait that you couldn't take your eyes off of.

The protagonist watched the light shine on the curves of his face, the way it reflected off of his eyes as the fairy looked back at him. Force of habit, the protagonist supposed, that he looked around the room. So long he'd known the fairy enough to know this habit of his, yet he never looked at him properly up until now.

The fairy shifted. Rolled his shoulder in a small movement as he gazed at the protagonist kneeling beside the bed—the protagonist's bed. Wearing his hoodie. It always pissed him off, how the fairy would hog everything of the protagonist's, how he'd not wear any of the clothes the protagonist had bought for him, how he'd barely give anything in return.

He'd come in here to talk to the fairy about it, prepared for a possible argument considering their chemistry. Instead he'd knelt down and watched the fairy look pretty in his bed, look like an otherworldly being, peaceful and serene and relaxed and nothing like the fleeting, diabolical thing he usually was.

True to what the protagonist thought of the fairy, he made a move to sit up on the bed. Shifted, adjusted his elbows so he could prop himself up on them, but the protagonist didn't want that. The protagonist didn't want the moment to go as soon as it had come.

Wordlessly, he put a hand on the fairy's chest and gently pushed him back down. The fairy made a soft, barely audible noise from the surprise, but didn't seem to mind the action. Instead, quietly, he stared. The fairy's eyes seemed to turn into pools of honey in the light. Warm and rich, pupils dilated. Pretty, pretty, pretty.

Now that the fairy was awake, the protagonist was expecting him to start being a nuisance, like he always was. Maybe move into the other room. But he just... kept staring. His eyes roamed over what he could see of the protagonist, still as a leaf, still like a romantic painting. Still so relaxed and comfortable.

So pretty, the protagonist wanted to draw him. He painted sometimes, sketched most of the time. Surely he could do the fairy justice.

Maybe. But there was no paper near him, let alone a pen or pencil. Then, the fairy's features twisted into something like worry. He took in a breath, parting his lips, but nothing came out. The fairy paused, broke eye contact, before closing his eyes.

Odd.

The fairy released his breath in a sigh, turning his head to the side. The lighting painted shadows on his features. Accentuated the muscles in his neck, the curves of his face, the shine of his hair. Pretty, still. So pretty.

The protagonist didn't want to ruin the atmosphere somehow, but the question slipped out before he could fully consider it. Maybe that was selfish.

"What's wrong?"

The fairy looked back, and that worry hadn't faded yet.

"How long have you been there?"

The protagonist almost winced at the question. Of course, he'd been watching the fairy sleep. That was weird, and they weren't even close for that kind of... intimacy. Shame seeped into him, and the protagonist made a move to get away, but the fairy caught his sleeve. Some kind of emotion close to urgency flashed in his eyes, and he frowned.

The protagonist's fingers twitched at the side of the bed, but he decided to go back to his initial position.

"Not long," he answered, and he was sure it sounded almost wispy; like fog disappearing after someone spoke in winter, "barely ten minutes."

The fairy visibly relaxed, and the protagonist only noticed the fairy had had his body stiffened up when he released a breath and it looked like he practically melted into the mattress. Confusion prodded the protagonist. Worry wasn't an emotion the fairy showed, if ever.

"...why?" the protagonist asked after a few moments. Worry. Surely there was something wrong, why else would the fairy worry?

The fairy released something like a huff, almost like he was exhausted. Maybe exasperated. "It doesn't... matter," he answered, "doesn't bother you."

"Wouldn't it be nice to tell someone?"

Something flashed in the fairy’s eyes. The fairy faltered over something, barely letting a syllable form on his tongue before he pursed his lips. “I don’t know,” he said after a moment.

The protagonist expected him to say something else, with how it looked like his throat moved to form another word, but nothing. The protagonist followed the slope of the fairy’s cheekbone with his eyes. Shadows fell on his sternocleidomastoideus, and the protagonist’s eyes followed up to his jaw, wanting to memorise every trace of the fairy.

"Stop that," the fairy said through his teeth. Not angry. Not anything.

Maybe the fairy read his thoughts somehow. Maybe he just caught on to just what places the protagonist's eyes were going over.

The protagonist caught himself, snapping his gaze from the hollow of the fairy's throat to his eyes. "Stop what?" he asked. He forgot to breathe before asking.

The fairy's hand twitched, making way to his neck. "Stop looking—" he faltered. Paused, furled hand on his collarbone, something flashing in his eyes again. His brows twitched for a moment.

The protagonist sucked in a breath. Oh. He made a move to scoot away again, but the fairy caught his shirt once more, a little faster than the last time.

Reflexively, the protagonist's hand shot up to catch the fairy's wrist, and then they both paused.

This time, it was the protagonist who made a noise. Soft, barely audible, and it felt like it was plucked out of his lips and thrown into the air against his will.

It burned where the fairy's skin met the protagonist's own, but it felt like the burn of a fireplace rather than the burn of piping hot metal. The fairy stared at him, something coming together in his face. The protagonist wasn't sure what.

The fairy never let any physical be there between him and the protagonist. Usually, the fairy moved away when the protagonist did something as small as brush fingers with him.

Right now, the fairy didn't move. Now, the fairy didn't say anything as the moments carried on, meeting the protagonist's eyes with something inscrutable. Not angry. Calm. Calm and nothing diabolical and mischievous swirling in his eyes.

Mesmerising again. Breath-taking, the groove beneath his nose catching shadows once more, and the shape of his lips looking impossibly pretty against the light.

The fairy's fingers twitched on his collarbone, and the protagonist caught the movement, snapping his gaze from the fairy's eyes to his furled hand.

Slowly, the fairy's fingers let go of the protagonist's shirt, and the protagonist's fingers left the fairy's wrist. The protagonist straightened, fingernails momentarily scratching at the bedsheet.

Quietly, he took in a breath, watching the fairy's hand retract back to where it previously was. Silence filled the room for a few moments. Not tense.

The fairy looked away once more, gazing at the pillow on the other side of the bed. Then, he looked up at the ceiling, and the curve of his nose was too pretty to not want to memorise. His lashes curled longer than the protagonist had thought, and the column of his throat was more defined with the shadows.

The fairy was achingly pretty.

"I think," the fairy said, breaking the moments of delicate silence between them both, "that I act out my dreams. That's why I asked."

"Fairies dream?"

The fairy looked at the protagonist, and for a moment it looked like that malice had returned momentarily. But then it was gone as soon as it came.

The protagonist thought the fairy would look away again. Instead the fairy simply shifted on the bed, burying the side of his face into the pillow, gazing into nothing in particular.

"Everything dreams," he stated. It didn't sound snobby, nor did it sound like an annoying show of intelligence. It just sounded like that, a statement. "If it's alive, it'll dream."

"You think so?"

The fairy shook his head. "It's not a thought. It's a fact."

"Is it?"

The fairy's eyes flitted to the bedsheets. Softly, he took a breath in, releasing it in an ever softer exhale. "Yeah. Except viruses. They lay dormant without a host until they die, but I think you already know that."

The protagonist tilted his head to the side. He wasn't expecting the fairy to know much about science, especially when he barely ever went out, let alone talked to someone aside from the protagonist.

Maybe that was a little narrow-minded.

"What do fairies dream of?"

That made something simmer, and the fairy glared defensively. "Don't ask me that," he said, almost in a hiss.

The protagonist moved back a bit, caught off guard, and the silence wasn't as tender for a moment.

The fairy looked taken aback at his own reaction, like some kind of revelation was coming together in his mind. He shifted uncomfortably, pressing himself deeper into the mattress.

"Sorry," the fairy said. It almost sounded tight, like his throat wouldn't allow him to apologize. The protagonist was more caught off guard at the apology. "It just... happened."

The protagonist's nails scratched at the sheets again. "It's fine," he mumbled.

The fairy looked away, and they fell into silence once more, and the sun was slowly setting and colouring the room a pale orange. The protagonist looked at the way his hoodie folded over on the fairy's limbs, how normal he looked despite being magical.

The column of his neck contracted, like the fairy was swallowing, before he turned to look at the protagonist again.

"Hey," he began, "I don't really mean it. When I'm being... fairy-like, I suppose."

The protagonist tilted his head. "You mean when you wreck my house? I wanted to talk to you about that, actually."

The fairy exhaled, looking up at the ceiling. "It's a part of our demeanor. It's hard not to."

"You can't control it?"

"Without practice, we can't." The fairy spread his arms a little bit, stretching. The line of his neck looked pretty that way, glowing in the sun. "It mostly happens because of spikes in emotion for me."

"Like anger?"

For a moment, the fairy froze, looking at the protagonist uncomfortably. Had he not meant to say that? But then it was gone as soon as it came, and the fairy shook his head.

"Nevermind," he said, tighter than when he apologized, "it's hard to understand. But earth fairies are naturally malicious."

The protagonist nodded. Perhaps the topic made the fairy uncomfortable. He wouldn't prod if the fairy didn't want him to.

"All right," he said, and his lips curled without his permission to give the fairy a faint smile. Then he smothered it as soon at it happened. It probably looked weird.

The fairy stayed still for a few moments, boring his eyes into the protagonist, before he nodded along. Probably because of the smile. The protagonist started to feel awkward about it.

But before his mind could go on and on about it, the fairy spoke up again, distracting him.

"Can you make that... noodle thing?"

That time, the protagonist smiled. "You mean spaghetti."

The fairy seemed to grow defensive. "Yes, that—I hate the weird names of your foods, stop it."

"Of course." The protagonist couldn't quite stop smiling immediately. "It's okay, some of them are hard to pronounce because of different languages."

"Oh."

The protagonist laughed softly. "I'll make it."

"Can I help?"

Oh?

That was new. The fairy never helped.

The protagonist nodded. The fairy wanted to help. They could warm up to each other that way.

The house was a little more peaceful after that.

#kyles.writing #every day i feel more and more comfy w saying I'm Not Allo™ #it's so nice !! i love #i wanna make this fairy ace-spec since i think im ace-spec too so we'll be twinning that would be so cool #my supbar vocabulary rlly showed w this didnt it #romantic paintings fuck btw i just fucking Adore #fey folk #fairies #faeries #faerie x protagonist #protagonist x faerie #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #my writing #my tags r always so long its bc im so funny i need to let out my humour somewhere #i am Hilarious i am a Joke #fairy's outfit fucks too btw i think i dethroned every fashion designer ever #tag update guys im aegosexual lmao #thats basically #asexual #but its a microlabel #and it defines my sexuality pretty well lmao no sex only sexy #tag update yes i wrote this over a long period #pay no attention to how rushed it is thanks #and YES that is a shit title and NO i dont care /lh