Work Text:
Edgar spent the entire day sulking around like he always had.
He goes to his studio late at night to relieve his pent-up anger, where he paints and paints and seemingly never stops doing so. It would be insensible to leave the only place in the Manor suitable for him, so he devoted most of his time stuck in the Oletus Manor painting non-stop. Thus, he was unfamiliar with the other survivors there, and so he acted cold and unfriendly towards all of them.
His sharp ears picked up on a subtle shuffling noise from his workshop as he was trudging towards it. Tch. The last thing Edgar wanted to find out was that someone else was already inside the studio prior to his arrival.
Seeing someone else inside his studio had never been a positive experience for him.
He’d seen the intuitive but nosey Luca ferreting about his supplies, and once had his entire studio torn down by the youthful and energetic Mike, which resulted in him having to tidy it up for a full week.
As he peers into the door, Edgar sees a female figure hunched towards a piece of paper. Oh.
Conflicted on whether to feel grateful there wasn’t an irritating troublemaker inside his workplace, or to feel outright annoyed that someone was using up his art supplies, Edgar moved into the room, trying not to bother the person inside.
Seeing another person drawing, and actually using the studio made him intrigued. Edgar stole multiple curious glances at her as he picked up his painting tools.
He had never seen this particular person this close up before. Perhaps she doesn’t go out much like he does, Edgar ponders, racking his brains to recall who this mysterious woman was.
Of course. She was the Entomologist. How could he have forgotten?
Melly Plinius was notable for never sticking around the other survivors, but her name was definitely not disregarded by anyone. The strange gauze mask she was always seen with made her instantly recognizable, and her dedicated passion in entomology was widely respected among others.
Other than that, Edgar didn’t know much about this unsociable woman. He didn’t think she would like to draw, though.
“Mister Valden, I take it that you want to use this studio right now? My apologies for intruding on your space without your permission. I’ll be on my way out then.” Edgar hears a rather pleasant voice ring out, pausing his train of thoughts.
It was true that Edgar acted quite territorial when it came to the art studio. But the place belonged to the manor owner, and not him, no matter how much Edgar valued staying there.
“There is no need to apologise,” he scoffs in reply, “If you were using the studio for its intended purpose, I have no choice but to allow you to do so.”
“I see. Thank you.”
“There is no need to thank me, either.”
Edgar watched the entomologist return to her artwork, contemplating in the silence that followed after he uttered his pointless words.
He doesn’t know what to say next. There was a part of him that was dying to know more about the mysterious biologist, which he tried as much as he could to ignore, but to no avail. He used as much of his willpower to avert his eyes away, but it couldn’t help turning back to peek at her. Edgar felt completely helpless, as he couldn’t control his unwavering actions.
Soon, he found himself walking towards her, stretching his neck to see what she was drawing.
Melly didn’t seem to notice.
It is not that Melly was drawing some sort of bug per se surprised him. It was the generous amount of detail, the unexpected amount of thought placed into every stroke, and the horrifying realistic-ness of the piece was what made the painter completely and utterly lose his shit.
He’d never seen anything like this before.
Of course, Edgar had to tell himself that as a renowned artist, his masterpieces were marginally better than anything this commoner would make. And tell himself exactly that a second time. And a third time, just to make sure he himself was convinced. It undoubtedly didn't work.
“Just what on earth are you drawing?”
Melly, who was too focused on her work to sense that Edgar was watching her, jumped in surprise at the sound of his harsh, sudden voice.
“Mister Valden. Um, I was just illustrating one of my butterflies for my notes.”
“What's it called?”
“You wouldn’t be interested in this really, sir. It’s the Battus Phlinenor, commonly referred to as the Pipevine Swallowtail.”
Melly was right. Edgar didn’t care at all about what that stupid-looking bug was called. All he was doing was trying to say something to her without showing his own jealousy.
Still, he makes it a note in his memory. He walked closer to her and carefully scrutinised the artwork with his eyebrows furrowed, failing to notice Melly’s visible uneasiness.
“You drew it quite beautifully,” He shakily breathed out.
Edgar didn’t manage to regard the woman’s shock upon hearing his words. He himself had felt that his entire nervous system was breaking down at that moment; he had never complimented someone else. Not even once in his life.
“—For an ordinary person, of course. Don’t think that I was trying to flatter you, Plinius.”
Even though Edgar had no way of seeing her face, he could tell Melly was slightly upset hearing those harsh words, by the way her shoulders slumped upon hearing that. He didn’t realise he himself felt the same way too, after seeing her reaction.
“That’s alright. I’m pleased to hear that you like it, at least.”
“You should.”
More silence follows. Edgar knows his insensitive words added nothing to the conversation. He was the type of person to say things like that without a second thought anyway, and it never bothered him, not even once.
Not until now, that is.
He didn’t want to stop conversing with Melly, nor push her away from him. Edgar didn’t understand why. He tells himself it would be much, much less troublesome if he just let her draw in peace and start on his own artwork. But he didn’t let himself do so.
“Have you done any more works like this one?” He asks, gesturing his hands towards Melly’s drawing. Again, Edgar didn’t even need to hear her answer. He only said whatever was found on the top of his head to continue speaking to her.
Why did he bother to do so?
He had no idea. Of course he had no idea. Edgar never really understood his very own actions, which infuriated him more and more as he lingered around, trying to converse with the Entomologist.
“I do have more of these. My research notes do require images of the insects I study, so I illustrate them myself.”
“Mmm.” Edgar replies with a more neutral tone, thinking about what she said.
He thought about asking her to show them to him, but he decided against that. It would just disrupt her work anyways.
He didn’t think that it would be a huge waste of time for himself if he asked, or think about why he would be interested in the entomologist in the first place, when all he ever cared about was himself and his artworks.
How unlikely of him to act this way to someone else.
“Mister Valden.” The soft, sweet voice breaks his thoughts again, and Edgar immediately directs all his attention to the woman next to him.
“I never knew you could be this charming,”
Upon hearing those words, Edgar took a few swift, frantic steps away from Melly. His head felt woozy, and he could feel his warm blood rushing into his face. He opened his mouth to protest, but all that came out of him were incoherent stutterings. He didn’t know how to react to the unexpectedly kind words that he never heard before.
He was a rude, pretentious, and an egotistical young man. Of course he never received a compliment that wasn’t about his art.
“I heard many things about you from the other survivors. Not very great things, unfortunately.” She continued, and Edgar could hear a little trace of a laugh in her voice.
Edgar scoffed. He knew acted distant towards the others, but how come they harboured such negative thoughts when he never tried to bother them, not even once? It usually was the other way round, where the other survivors tried to get closer to him only to be greeted with his undying hostility.
“Hmph. Never knew I was so famous around here.” He replied dryly, still sounding a little flustered.
He was greeted with another muffled laugh, one so sickeningly sweet Edgar felt he had to move closer to Melly, in order to hear it better. And so, he found himself dragging a chair nearby to sit right next to her. Edgar brushed his hair aside and rested his head on his palms, as Melly only silently watched.
“What do you think?” She asked, pointing at the drawing Edgar was so hungrily staring at.
“Didn’t I tell you my opinion already?” Edgar replied, shifting his eyes away. He immediately regretted his poor choice of words, but Melly didn’t seem to care, and patiently waited for his reply. A few minutes passed, and Edgar couldn’t stand the silence. He reluctantly sighed. “Why?”
“Aren’t you a renowned artist? I’d like for you to give me some more in-depth advice, if you don’t mind.”
It wasn’t the first time Edgar had someone else ask him for help with their art. He always refused. Edgar wasn’t a teacher, and he thinks that his educated views shouldn’t be given out to some commoner for free. But it was Melly who was asking for his help. He couldn’t just refuse her, right?
Resisting the urge to protest, Edgar nodded back at Melly, signalling that he accepted her request (not very willingingly, however) and continued glaring at her
drawing, trying to come up with things to say.
He didn’t have much to say, he realised. It wasn’t an actual artwork, that emcompasses any feelings or has any messages hidden in it. It was just a picture of a butterfly. Edgar could criticise the techniques she used to paint it, but after staring, and staring at it even more, Edgar realizes it was already nearly perfect. Saying anything negative about her drawing would be too harsh, even for someone as insolent as him.
“W-well, I don’t think the colours you used are vibrant enough. They’re decent, but wouldn’t a butterfly be more colourful?”
“I don’t think you’ve ever seen a Battus Phlinenor before, Valden. They aren’t known for fancy colours, especially the female ones who are mostly black with a little bit of iridescent blue on it’s hindwings. The males have much more brilliant colour to attract mates, of course, but it’s a female one that I have drawn.” she replied, giving Edgar information he never really wanted to hear. He wasn’t too fond of insects. In fact, he absolutely despised them. But if talking to Melly means getting to hear more of that sweet, melodious voice…
“Right… I guess you could make the blue hues much brighter, that would complement the dark wings on that… thing,” He didn’t want to express his distaste for bugs, especially in front of someone so passionate about them, but Edgar couldn’t help squirming uneasily.
“Ah, to emphasise on the ventral blue patches to the viewer, which are found in both sexes of the Battus Phlinenor as a warning sign to predators. They do taste rather nasty, you know. A rather excellent idea.”
Edgar blinked. She really had so many things to say about this boring-looking bug, and he knew that what he heard was only the mere surface of her endless knowledge about it. Someone as arvent as her would definitely ramble on and on for hours about one simple thing, if he didn’t stop her from talking even further.
However, Edgar didn’t feel like interrupting her. He noticed Melly’s posture as well as her actions seem much more comfortable and lively compared to earlier, and could almost imagine the smile on her face hidden behind that gauze mask. Melly would be overjoyed to discuss her interest in entomology at every given chance. Edgar knew. She likes it. And maybe Edgar would like it too, listening to the overwhelming amount of words Melly would say about the subject, as well as teaching her everything he knows about art.
It’s so unlike himself. Edgar wouldn’t have the time to just sit and listen to someone. He wouldn’t talk to anyone he found unworthy about art. But he would be trapped in the manor for presumably an eternity, and Edgar figured that he would have plenty of time to do all these things even if he found it pointless.
He would like to learn how it feels like to do something he wouldn’t be interested in doing, especially now that he has someone to be with. Maybe he would learn to like bugs. Maybe he would actually find it enjoyable to talk about art, even to someone he found unworthy. And maybe, he would find out why he felt so strangely attracted to the woman next to him.
“Please— I’d like for you to tell me more.” Edgar practically begged for Melly to continue.
She only replied with a “Huh?”, sounding rather startled.
“About that stupid fly you were going on and on about.” He muttered, feeling slightly flustered, before immediately realising that it wasn’t a very nice thing to say about something he allegedly wanted to know more about. “Um- I want you to teach me more about entomology, if you don’t mind.”
“Well, the knowledge I have is primarily about Pterygota, which are a subclass of insects that fly. But I’d love to teach you about it, as long as you tell me what you know about painting as well,” was her reply. Edgar gave a little half-smile, containing the unreasonably large amount of delight he felt upon hearing her approval.
What he didn’t hear was a soft “Thank you” from the other person, who was eternally grateful to hear that someone in the Manor was interested in the knowledge that she so desired to share to someone else.
They both left the studio with contented feelings, forgetting to arrange a time for them to meet each other again.
Both of them would be looking forward to unexpectedly meeting each other in the studio again.
————————————————————————————-