Chapter Text
one , a fine taste of crimson (observation)
FLASHING RED LIGHTS, blaring electronic pop music, and the drunken laughter of university students intensified as you sat by a kaleidoscope aurora lightened bar. Golden whiskey remained untouched in the glass, crystal refracting the animated setting all around you.
It was an ordinary Tuesday night before the start of your final year at Teyvat University. As a way to commemorate the occasion, you and your roommate decided to head out for the clubs to party. Unluckily for you and Childe - it seems that all of the other students from your university had the same idea. You had hoped that you could’ve drank some of your anxieties away in peace but it seemed others had also decided to bring their affairs here.
Being burned out and tired from the past three years of university - you’ve grown weary of your path of academia. Though more so of the people you’ve surrounded yourself with for the past few years. University and adulthood does not bode well unfortunately. Especially with the reality of crippling student debt awaiting you after graduation. Combined with your awful coping methods with your growing nihilism, it seems that you now had therapy bills and alcoholism to deal with atop everything else.
At the very least, you had Childe to accompany you. Having been friends since the first year, you were grateful for his support through the hot mess that was your first few years at the university. Through breakups (both romantic and platonic - but mostly platonic), he’s been stuck with you since the start. So of course when you finally had the chance to move out of the awful co-ed dorms with him, you did so without a second thought.
But who would’ve known that the one time you needed him most, the bastard left you to flirt with someone else.
Angel’s Share is a particularly popular club for the younger audience. Situated rather close to the university, many students flocked here on the weekends (so why the hell is it so crowded on a Tuesday of all days?).
That being said - it happened to sit right next to the financial district of Celestia City wherein all the tired bankers and wealthy businessmen happen to be. So of course, at the first opportunity Childe gets - he leaves to talk to some tired businessmen, effectively abandoning you.
Obviously you respect the hustle because no one likes the thought of student debt… but seriously? On a night like this?
A languid sigh escaped your lips as you lifted the glass to your lips, the piquant taste slipping past your tongue as the alcohol burned your throat with a honeyed sting. Your lips tightened to a frown as you set the glass against the bar counter to glance around at the surroundings.
The club floor just a room away was entirely full. Screaming students roared at the top of their lungs as the DJ changed to one of the latest topping songs of the week. Blinding lights filtered into the other side of the speakeasy, though the ambiance was entirely different. Aureus glow from the light fixtures above made the bar feel like a complete turnaround from the disco and DJ. It was a far more traditional bar with shelves of aged liquors, flavor shots, and glass bottles compared to the environment in the other room.
Searching the faces of the bar, there was a couple you recognized here but none you were comfortable approaching. Hell, it would be far more awkward seeing people you recognize the next day when you’re about to empty this bar of all its alcohol. It was even more awkward when they realize that you, a high scholarship student, are now drinking alone.
“Damn you Ajax…” You grumbled angrily, sparing a glance over to your said auburn-haired roommate; who had left you after having been star-struck with this handsome tall guy sitting across the bar with ‘the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen’.
You watched with growing jealousy as Childe chatted away, smiling innocently and batting his eyelashes at the older gentlemen who offered to buy him a drink. You didn’t question your roommate’s taste but he certainly had a knack for the older bachelors - if this new one was anything to go by. At the very least, this one was attractive.
How the hell was he so damn good at this sort of thing? You clicked your tongue in irritation as you finished the rest of your whiskey sour before waving to the bartender who hurried over to you. “The same, please..”
“One moment, miss.” The bartender went off to prepare the drink as you glanced around you in boredom - before taking notice of a lone man sitting by the edge of the bar scowling at (who you presumed to be) a friend as he walked away, leaving the man at the bar by himself. You almost felt bad, seeing as how that very scenario just happened to you as well.
“Bartender.” You waved, gesturing to the lone man. “Mind giving him a glass of wine? It’s on me.”
Sanguine liquor came flowing out of the aged glass, filling the crystal before the bartender handed you your whiskey sour and sauntered over to the lone man with a glass of wine. He glanced up, frowning in confusion before the bartender gestured to you.
You took this moment to raise a glass to him before taking a sip on next full of liquor. You spared a glance to your right at the man who you had just purchased a drink for. If you were going to talk to a stranger, maybe the alcohol in your system will make you appear a bit more confident than your current dejected self.
The first thing you noticed about him was the dark sunglasses he wore, ones that effectively shielded his eyes from the flashing disco lights. Who the hell wore sunglasses in a club? You thought to yourself but decidedly said nothing as you approached him with your whiskey in hand.
“It’s rather kind of you to buy a stranger an expensive drink.” He said as you took a seat beside him, swinging onto the stool with an innocent smile. Just be cordial, you reasoned. A little conversation won’t hurt.
“Think of this as an invitation for conversation after your friend abandoned you for duller company.” He raised an eyebrow at you, holding the glass’ stem between his gloved index and middle finger. You took another sip, savoring the sweet burn of the whiskey as you awaited his response.
“Well, I do hope you can make for better company then.”
You laughed, feigning innocence as you set the glass down. “My friend says I am rather hard to beat when it comes to that.”
You took the moment following your words to admire his features because well - what isn’t there to admire?
Soft icy blue tresses that were styled perfectly, swept over the side frames of his sunglasses. His white suit looked expensive - especially with the additional accessories he was wearing; ie. that silk navy cravat, black leather gloves, gold cufflinks and that aquamarine crystal earring hanging from his left ear. Up close, he looked to be a lot more handsome than you had first anticipated from afar. That and he looked to be a few years older than you - four to five years at most.
You presumed he wasn’t here for the clubbing aspect of Angel’s Share - seeing as how he was dressed. Maybe he’s the heir of some big shot company? You were at least thankful to Childe for having dressed you at least somewhat decently because compared to this guy, you looked utterly disastrous. The alcoholic daze and confidence made up for how awful you currently looked and felt.
“You’re quite assured, hm?” He chuckled a bit, his deep tone rumbling low in his throat as he mused at you with a smirk. “Or is that just the alcohol talking?”
“Why don’t you find out?” You didn’t think of yourself as a flirtatious person by any means. Maybe he was right, the alcohol did something to boost your confidence.
“For such an innocent-looking girl, you have quite the mouth.” He answered in reply, taking a generous sip of the wine before licking his lip, tinting it crimson.
You flushed at his words, breath cut off with unease. Something about the timbre of his tone brought upon a coil in your stomach. Heart thrumming rhythmically with the sound of the from the music in the other room.
No… Snap out of it. You scolded yourself for being dazed. It’s just the alcohol… Nothing more.
“An odd choice to wear sunglasses to a bar.” You noted the brand, a designer one.
“I don’t like to be recognized.” He answered plainly, brushing it off.
Even still, past the dark lens, you couldn’t help but notice the brightness of his irises - a sharp vermillion that verged on ruby. Such contrast with his soft icy-blue tresses.
Looking past your sudden daydreaming, you observed him wave to one of the other bartenders - asking for a refill of the wine before pointing at your glass, saying that he would pay for your next glass as compensation for his wine.
You took a generous sip of the whiskey sour as he got his glass of wine delivered to him. You set the empty whiskey glass in front of you, smiling at the bartender as he got you another.
“Moments of random kindness do not occur by nature in a place like this. Mind indulging why you chose to act upon it?”
“My roommate left me to pursue his own business.”
You answered him, tapping your free hand to the beat of the muffled song against the bar counter. “Much like how I saw your friend leave you alone… I thought it would be nice to drink with someone else.”
“… I see…” You noticed his gaze shift - to a dark-haired male standing by the corner where unfortunately the light did not reach. Even still, you swore you recognized him from somewhere. “I suppose you were dragged out against your will?”
“Mm…” He hummed, taking a moment to savor the crimson liquor. You watched as he swirled the crystal, admiring the aged sanguine wine. “You surmised correctly… How about I try to guess why you’re drinking? You look like you have drunk quite a bit.”
You smiled innocently, nodding. You didn’t expect much, presuming he was simply trying to impress you. “Go ahead.”
Truly, you didn’t think he would be capable of guessing. Hell, it could be a hundred things bothering you enough to bring you here to Angel’s Share. So it certainly came as a surprise when he did take a guess;
“Hm,” he hummed quietly, bringing his gloved thumb to his chin as he drew upon a hypothesis. “Could it be that you're presently at a stage in your life amidst grand transition and conceptual confusion. Such as the cusps of graduation or adacrmics to what follows.”
Of how he guessed that was beyond you. It was eerily correct and rather bold of him to candidly ask of your concerns but you answered him anyway. “You’re rather observant… Are my troubles so obvious to guess?”
“So I’m correct.” He was smirking at you, tilting his sunglasses down to reveal vermillion. Palpable conceit and arrogance blended with the halo of honey light painted him with a subtle gaze. Awestruck, you couldn’t look away from him.
He took a sip of the wine, ruby tinted his lips a darker shade of crimson. “My job is to be observant, that’s all. I suppose you’re a student at the university here, yes? That is a rather impressive feat to have gotten into one of the best universities in the world.”
It was odd, the way his words made you feel. You could feel your face flushing slightly; growing hot with every second that passed.
Such praise did not come easily and nor did you expect an outsider of all people to make you feel remotely competent when it came to your achievements. Even so, he was right. Teyvat University is not an easy university to get into. Hours upon hours of studying landed you with a more than amazing scholarship attached with your history major. Such accumulation of those hundreds of hours only amounted to your current agnostic burn-out.
“Ah…” You felt awkward now. How exactly does one follow his praise? What to say, what to say… “Thank you… Though I assure you, I’m nothing too special in comparison to the others at the school.”
He raised an eyebrow at you. “Is that so?“
You laughed a bit to ease the tension. “I’m just some country kid with big dreams. It’s nothing special. There are plenty of kids at my university who are heirs and heiresses of major corporations alike. Compared to me, they show far more promise and potential in the future.”
He went silent for a moment, prompting you to think that perhaps you said something wrong. If your theory of him being some sort of big-shot, you wondered if you had offended him with your somewhat throwaway response.
“I assure you, there’s much yet for you to explore about the world. Unlocking your potential is just the beginning of the experiment.” He answered after a brief moment of silence. You sat there with a growing sense of unfamiliarity in your chest - wondering why exactly he made you feel so twisted and perplexed. Your lips thinned to a frown before taking this moment to drink. He followed your action.
He finished his liquor with a single gulp following your words. He turned to you, gently wiping away the droplets of crimson that lingered near his lips. Nervously, you gulped and averted your eyes - feeling apprehensive all of a sudden. How he managed to make you so unnerved became a mystery to you.
“It was lovely speaking to you but I’m afraid my time is up. It appears my colleague had finished his conversation.” You brief a glance over to the same dark-haired man from before, squinting a bit as that same feeling of familiarity returned to you. Just who the hell was he?
“Ah… Well… Thank you for keeping me company. I hope we see each other again.” You answered him with a slight smile, watching as he slipped off the stool to stand. He was a lot taller than you had realized and something about that made you feel… weird. It’s probably the alcohol.
The mysterious man let out a deep chuckle, nodding. “I’m sure we shall see each other soon.” He moved slowly, his vermillion eyes beneath the dark lens locked with yours. You felt breathless; face slowly growing warm as nausea began to settle in the fog of your mind.
Yup, definitely the alcohol.
You watched as he climbed the staircase upstairs with his colleague; this time, you got a good glimpse at the dark-haired colleague. Silver framed hanging glasses matched with the rest of his silver accessories. Black silk turtleneck hidden beneath a navy suit jacket; of similar design to the man who had kindly brought you a drink. Even with your observations, you couldn’t quite place where you have seen him before… Perhaps a celebrity of some sort?
You sighed, shaking your head before finishing the rest of your drink in a single gulp. Looking up from your glass, you noticed Childe drunkenly meandering back over to you with an expression of amusement.
“Did you have your fun?” You asked sardonically, raising an eyebrow at him. Childe held up his phone, waving it with a new contact opened on his homescreen.
“I did. I even got his number. And what about you? I saw that guy sitting with you.” Childe mused, smirking at you.
You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. “Oh, now you care . I had a pleasant time, if that’s what you worried about.”
This time, Childe raised an eyebrow at you. “And you didn’t get his number?”
You shrugged, frowning. “He left abruptly. I didn’t have the time to ask…”
You had originally intended to ask him but never found the chance to ask. The conversation got awfully introspective in a moments’ notice; probably not the best place to ask for his number when he nearly sent you spiraling in an internal panic about your self identity.
“You looked rather startled. Did something happen?” Childe took a hard look at your empty glass. “And how much did you drink? You look horrible.”
You winced at his harsh comment. “One, ouch. Two, I’ll tell you later… I feel awful right now. Perhaps almost four glasses of whiskey is pushing it.”
“Considering your awful tolerance, just three really is pushing it. I’ll call a cab.” Childe hauled your arm over his shoulder, stumbling to the side with the sudden dead weight.
“Can’t you be more gentle?” You snapped, groaning as vertigo settled in - causing you to gag. “I don’t want to throw up on you.”
“Gods, if you throw up on me, you will be doing laundry for the rest of the month.”
_______________
two , an unfortunate fate (question)
THIS MUST BE sort of cruel karmic punishment for your previous night’s decision, you were sure of it. After dismissing your early morning alarm due to an intense hangover, you woke approximately half an hour after your first class of the term started. Panic set in when Childe informed you of the time, prompting you to leap out of your bed in haste. Ten minutes go by with you rushing to freshen yourself up from last night’s drinking; changing out of your pajamas, grabbing your school bag, and bidding Childe farewell before bolting out the door for the local bus - only to realize that the bus was delayed. It seems fate was determined in forsaking you.
After having finally made it to the main campus, you thought your luck would change for the better however, it seems the world continues to test you by having the main elevators break down. Now exhausted (having ran up three flights of stairs), still reeling from a splitting headache, and utterly a visiblemess; you finally made it to your lecture hall almost an hour into the three hours, two days a week lecture on the ‘Principles of Biochemistry’.
Your reputation as a scholarship student with high honors being at risk didn’t all that matter to you. At least, not when you were about to be dealt the wrath of the chairman of the science department - one that many have stated is the most sadistic and ruthless professors in all of Teyvat University.
You braced yourself for the worst, turning the knob of the lecture hall door and pushed.
“It seems we have a friend who’s running awfully late. Please, take your time. We have plenty of seats up front.”
On cue, heads turned to you as you walked in, door slamming behind you (as if you needed any more attention on you). Flushed with growing embarrassment, you rushed to the left end seat in the front of the lecture hall. You kept your eyes averted to the floor as you made your way to the front, avoiding any and all attention following you as you settled down; promptly placing your bag in front of your face to hide this humiliation fest.
I’m going to die. It’s awful. You texted Childe, waiting a few seconds to see text bubbles popping up on your messenger.
I told you to not drink that much the night before. Who’s the idiot now? You rolled your eyes before shoving the phone into the side of your school bag, exchanging it for your laptop to take notes.
To your right sat two other students, their laptop screens displaying nearly four pages of notes. They were studiously following along with the lecture, following along with nodded heads. Gods… You thought to yourself as you pulled up a new document and a tab of the syllabus for this course. How the hell will I survive this awful class?
Despite your primary study in history, you were still required by the university to take a mandatory science course. Of when you took it, that decision was entirely up to the student. So of course, you actively avoided the subject until your final year of undergrad. Now you were actively suffering the consequences of your horrible, last minute decision to take this long biochemistry lecture to fulfill the requirement.
You let out an exasperated sigh, shaking your head as you quickly briefed over the syllabus. Professor… Dottore… You raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Your eyes scanned over the PDF, engrossed with the details of the outline before—
“We will begin with the study structure of enzymes, protein, and– Miss.”
A hush fell over the class, prompting you to look to meet vermillion hues. A silent but powerful quiver befell you as the ghastly realization dawned upon you. It seems that he too, also realized as he fell quiet before covering it up with a cough. “See me after class. I’ll give you the handouts.”
Stunned, you remained silent as Dottore continued to lecture - that of which you tuned out as abhorrent hysteria began to finally settle into your reality. The icy-blue hair that was styled with a part, the familiar eyes, the timbre of his baritone voice— Dear gods… This cannot be happening. You wanted to scold yourself over and over again. What kind of cruel, twisted joke was this?
Here you thought, your week couldn’t get worse yet you’ll be damned. First you have an emotional crisis about your future, and now you show up to your first class of the term extremely late. Not to mention that said class is being taught by the same person who you brought a drink for because you were utterly desperate for some sort of company.
You bought your professor, the chairman of the science department at Teyvat University, a drink because you needed the attention.
To be completely fair, he looks incredibly young to be a professor… let alone the chairman of a whole department. You tried to reason with yourself, knowing that this ultimately changed nothing.
You wondered just how the hell you were going to make it through the term with this moment looming over your head like a storm.
Somehow, you made it through the rest of the lecture without another bout of spotlight embarrassment. With the dismissal of the class, many left without so much as a word. Some stayed behind, those of which you recognized to be fellow honor students.
Fantastic. Now my reputation is in ruins too. You wanted to drop dead on the spot. Or, run out of the lecture doors without a second glance back but there was too much at stake already. Your entire graduation hinged on the results of this class and unfortunately for you, this was considered one of the easiest science courses anyone could take.
Eventually, all other students filtered out of the lecture hall - leaving just you and Dottore alone.
“I…” You began awkwardly, eyes averted to the side as you stood there fidgeting nervously. “I… am awfully sorry for showing up late. My tardiness is inexcusable. I won’t do it again.”
Dottore remained silent, hand hovering over his attendant sheet as he briefly scanned over the paper. “Miss (y/n)... Yes?”
You wanted to die on the spot. “That’s me…”
“I’ll look past this incident just this once. Do not make the same mistake again. Is that understood?” His tone was distinctively different from last night at Angel’s Share. He exuded discipline with his words, lasting impact as he stared at you intently for an answer.
“Y-Yes… I understand…” You muttered beneath your breath, nodding.
“Good.” He handed you a heavy packet of what you presumed to be this week’s reading. Your stomach dropped as the weight of the stack of papers grew heavy in your arms. “I expect this reading to be done by our next lecture. I suggest you read everything meticulously.”
You winced at his words but nodded. Did you expect anything less from the chairman of the science department?
“And miss (y/n).” You froze, still opting to keep your eyes glued to the floor. You heard him click his tongue in irritation before he scolded you. “Look up at the person when they’re speaking to you.”
Hesitantly, you obliged. Looking up to meet his intense gaze, you felt the same butterflies from the night before return - this time, you were certain it wasn’t alcohol that caused it.
“And of last night,” he began slowly, eyebrows furrowing into a knit as he brought a hand to your chin, lifting it up so that you couldn’t avoid his piercing gaze this time. You let out a quiet gasp, panic building in your chest as he leaned down, just centimeters away from your face. “Forget everything. Speak nothing of our encounter. Do you understand?”
You gulped nervously, nodding obediently. “Y-Yes…”
“‘Yes, sir.’”
You wanted the gods to smite you dead in that very moment.
“Yes… Sir…”
He pulled away, releasing you with a smirk on his handsome face. “Good girl.”
_______________
three , an error in judgment (hypothesis)
“I FUCKED UP, AJAX. I FUCKED UP BIG TIME.”
EVEN THAT WAS a bit of an understatement. This was a huge fuck-up on your part. One undoubtedly that’s going to affect your life in some sort of catastrophic, karmic justice because you can’t seem to have anything good going for yourself.
“He said to not say a word about the encounter, right? If you don’t say anything about it, nothing ‘catastrophic’ will happen.” Your roommate replied, his fingers busy tapping away at his expensive laptop. The clicking of the keyboard only served to remind you of the inevitable doom timer that was bound to blow up any minute.
“But what if this is reported to the Student Dean? This is unacceptable behavior for a student— let alone someone like me! I would lose my honors and scholarship!” You wailed from beneath your shelter of blankets you’ve dug for yourself on the sofa.
“And that worst-case scenario is unlikely to occur so long as you keep your mouth shut. I doubt Professor Dottore would risk his own position on a student. Didn’t you say you had a nice conversation with him?”
“We had a nice ‘chat’ but it means nothing now that I know he’s my professor. That changes everything… Gods, why did I do something so stupid…?!” You scolded yourself, shaking your head in disbelief.
Childe sighed, ceasing his typing to answer your dramatism of the problem at hand. “Like I said, the Dean would probably have to fire him too. That’s too big of a risk for him to take.”
You thought over his words for a few moments, taking in his advice in a quiet calm before taking a deep breath to ease yourself. “You’re probably right… Even so, that was dumb of me to have bought a complete stranger a drink…”
Though you couldn’t see him, you presumed Childe was rolling his eyes at you by the brief silence. “You were just desperate for some attention. Nothing wrong with buying a guy a drink. Hell, I even bought the guy I was talking to a drink.”
You poked your head out of the blanket cave you’ve carved for yourself, shooting him a dirty glare. “I was not ‘desperate for attention’. He was left alone by his friend and I thought perhaps he would like to drink with someone similar— seeing as how you left me.” You spat accusingly, scoffing at Childe.
“The way you were eyeing him up and down tells me otherwise. You were practically undressing him with your eyes.” Childe retorted, turning to you with his arms folded across his chest before closing his laptop to leave on the coffee table. “And I had a perfectly good reason to leave you for just twenty minutes. I came back at the end, didn’t I?”
You pretended to gag, shaking your head at him as he walked over to the kitchen across from the living room.. “I was not undressing my professor with my eyes! Am I not allowed to admire someone I find attractive?”
“Oh, so you do find him attractive. Therein lies the answer to all of this. You’re lusting after your professor.”
Your face darkened with a blush at Childe’s sudden accusation. “W-What?! Don’t be stupid— I am not lusting after anyone, let alone my biochem professor!”
Childe rolled his eyes a second time before opening the fridge, crouching down to see what remained. “Oh, sure.”
You pouted, frowning at his words. “I’m serious! … I do admit I was a bit tipsy when I saw him and probably thought he was a bit attractive… But I was under the influence. You can’t necessarily blame me for that.”
Childe raised an eyebrow at you. “So… you do find him even the slightest bit attractive.”
You groaned, shaking your head at him. “Just slightly maybe… I’m not judging you on your taste in men so why are you judging mine?”
“Because you find him attractive. Name the last time you even found someone remotely attractive.”
Now this was food for thought. You gave into his words and thought for a moment - ultimately unable to come with a proper conclusion.
“Okay… Yeah, so… What’s your point here?”
“My point is,” Childe stood up, sauntering over the open kitchen counter to start preparing dinner for the two of you. “This is a big deal. You finally found someone that you’re interested in.”
You deadpanned at your roommate’s words. “So what? You expect me to start pursuing him? That puts my education and his job at risk.”
“I didn’t say that.” Childe scowled before his expression softened a bit. “I’m just happy to see you enjoying yourself.”
You conceded, sighing at his words. “Alright… fine. You win. I find him slightly attractive… Happy?”
Childe smiled at you victoriously. “Very much so. Now, tell me about what happened during your lecture. You looked awfully pissed when you came back from class.”
You shrugged at him, frowning. “I showed up late, made a scene and embarrassed me twice. I then nearly had a panic attack upon the realization that it was him . He pulled me aside after the lecture and gave me the handouts and a scolding...”
“That’s it?” Childe asked, turning up the heat of the stove. The stove clicks echoed in the two bedroom studio apartment, leaving you to ponder if telling your roommate what happened afterwards was necessary… (or worth the possible never ending embarrassment that follows).
“He…” You began before the memory of a few hours ago resurfaced; of how close he was to you as he lifted your face up to look at him, the way he held you… and his sudden praise—
You shuddered at the thought before you realized Childe was calling your name.
“Never mind… Nothing of significance happened.” You heard him groan in frustration from the kitchen. You turned back to see him frowning at you. “I swear. Nothing happened...”
Childe scoffed at you. “As if. You’re awful at lying, you know?”
You rolled your eyes at him, sighing heavily. “I’ll… tell you another time. After this blows over anyway…”
Thus you asked yourself - when exactly will this all blow over without consequence… You grimaced, shaking your head. Maybe Ajax’s right… I should just pretend this never happened… That would be the best thing to do.
… Right?
_______________
four , karmic justice (experiment & analysis)
“THE THEORETIC BASIS OF UNDERLYING STRUCTURES…”
THE SOUND OF keyboard tapping drowned out Dottore’s voice as you hurried to catch up with the lecture - occasionally glancing up to skim over slide notes, only to accidentally meet your professor’s unnerving gaze.
How the hell am I supposed to pay attention to his lecture when he is staring at me the entire time?! You texted Childe, fingers tapping away at your phone before setting it aside to see that Dottore had moved onto the next slide of notes. A silent buzz caught your attention, a notification brightened your homescreen. A text message from Childe; maybe he has a thing for you?
You deadpanned at his text. Please don’t encourage my bad decisions, Ajax.
Moments later, your roommate replied: I’m just saying.
You waited a second, looking up to see if the coast was clear. Saying what?
A text bubble appeared. That you’re into him and he’s into you. Plus, he’s not that much older than you are. I checked, just four years older than you. He must be quite the genius to have gotten his doctorate at just age twenty four.
You raised an eyebrow at this. First, that’s inappropriate. Two, you mean to say he’s only twenty six? What kind of madman gets his doctorate at just twenty four?
Childe sends you a link - a biography of your professor that you quickly skim over with great interest. I mean, besides the fact that he’s your professor - there is nothing wrong with the relationship. You’re a grown adult and he is too.
You winced at his words, typing back: therein lies the problem. He’s still my professor…
You could almost imagine Childe rolling his eyes at you. Okay yeah, but it’s not like you’re fucking him for better grades.
Your face darkened at his bluntness. If you’re not suggesting I sleep with him, are you?!
The thought briefly crossed your mind with morbid curiosity. The way he has praised you in that sultry, baritone voice. You allowed your imagination to drift for just a second - thinking how lewd it would be for him to pin you against the lecture podium and fuck you until your legs give out.
Another buzz. You snapped out of your daydreaming, unlocking your phone to look over at the notification.
Well, that’s on you. :3
“Bastard…” You grumble quietly, cursing him silently. A click reaches your ears, onto the next slide.
You quickly scrambled to type down everything noted on the large lecture screen before taking a second to look at Dottore who was busy looking through his own notations. Your eyes wandered over his hunched figure, admiring how nice he looked in his creaseless white button down that was tucked into black dress pants. The sleeves were rolled up to his upper arm, revealing his muscular biceps. Black leather gloves covered his hands, accentuating his long slender fingers. You wondered how they would feel against your bare body—
You gulped nervously, tearing your gaze away from Dottore before he took notice. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why am I thinking about that now!? You scolded yourself, shaking off the obscene thoughts. I have to stay focused —
“That of which we will have miss (y/n) explain to us.”
The class fell silent as all eyes turned to you and for the second time that week - you wanted to die on the spot. Dottore folded his arms across his chest, arm muscles flexing against the cuffs of his rolled sleeves. He smiled, vermillion eyes full of conceit at your flustered expression.
“Explain… What, sir…?” You heard whispers all around you. Those smug pre-med bastards...
Dottore raised an eyebrow at you, feigning disbelief at your lack of attention. “I expected more from an all-honors student such as yourself, miss (y/n). Distractions such as texting during my lecture are not tolerated.”
You grimaced as you heard quiet giggles reverberate around the lecture hall as Dottore stepped away from the podium, walking over to you. His eyes caught sight of your phone and held his gloved hand out. “Your phone, miss (y/n)?”
You felt like a scolded child as you reluctantly handed him your cellular, biting back a comment about his awful treatment of you. Just go with it….
He slipped your phone into his back pocket, pleased with your obedience. ‘Good girl.’ He mouthed, prompting you to squirm in your seat - cheeks flushing with humiliation and shame. It only continued to fuel your fantasies.
And for the rest of the lecture, you sat there during the eyes of scrutiny by the pre-med students of your lecture. So when you finally got up to collect your phone, you thought your agony was finally over. That was until Dottore told you to follow him to his office.
You followed behind him, hiding your face whenever students you recognized passed by. Unfortunately for you, a fellow colleague stopped Dottore on his way to his office - prompting you to hide behind him as you waited for their conversation to end. These agonizing minutes were drawn out with no ends in sight.
“Dottore… Who’s this lovely lady?” You froze, eyes remained glued to the floor out of fear that this was a staff who recognized you for your scholarship and or honors. The last thing you wanted was to be stripped of your academic grant.
“That’s none of your business, Pantalone. Don’t you have a meeting to be at?” Dottore sneered, raising an eyebrow at his colleague. You briefed a quick glance up, only to recognize him to be the same ‘friend’ that had left Dottore.
That’s why… You dawned upon an epiphany. Pantalone is both the chairman of the finance department and a professor of economics at your university - Childe had mentioned him on numerous occasions, and shown you pictures of him. Apparently, he was one of the richest and most influential individuals in all of Celestia City.
“I do, in five minutes.” Pantalone replied, smiling innocently at your professor. “Ah… Isn’t this the lovely lady who brought you a drink a few nights back? Treat her well, Dottore.”
The silence that followed was deadly. The way Dottore was glaring daggers at his colleague made you uneasy, the suffocating tension was thick enough to cut through with a blade.
“Again.” Dottore began slowly, gritting his teeth in growing frustration. “It’s none of your business . I suggest you hurry along to the meeting before Arlecchino scolds you again.”
Pantalone continued to smile, ignoring the indirect threat with a jovial laugh. “Very well… Do let me know the details , Dottore.”
He left without another word but his impact is evident. Dottore is absolutely seething.
“Professor… Um…” You didn’t know what to say. “What did… Professor Pantalone means by ‘the details’...? I’m not in terrible trouble, am I?”
Dottore still looked angry. “We will discuss this in my office.” He grumbled, grabbing your wrist to drag you along. You winced at his grip, trying to pry from him but to no avail.
“Professor! Professor— Dottore… !” You yelped as he unceremoniously threw you into his office, closing the doors behind him. You hissed in pain, gently rubbing and massaging your wrist before he spoke up.
“Firstly,” he made his way over to you, holding your chin up with his gloved fingers. “When I am teaching, refrain from any distractions that may pose a diversion example to the rest of class. It’s a rather poor example to set by someone who’s renowned with all-honors.”
“Secondly, does my lecture come second to your texting? Is it really that important to you, hm?” He moved closer, closing the space.
“And third. It seems that beside your phone, it seems that I am what’s distracting you during the lecture.” His lips ghosted yours, just a centimeter away. “Am I wrong, Miss (y/n)?”
You let out a quiet gasp, pulling away from him to create distance. Your heart was racing wildly, a flood of adrenaline that lit your veins with a maddening drug. You felt trapped, cornered as he approached you with a displeased reaction.
“I would suggest you answer me. I am not a very patient man.” Dottore unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, revealing his prominent collarbones beneath. A canvas untouched, all to be painted over. You wanted to make a mess of him.
“It’s rather distracting when you’re the one making inappropriate remarks.” You replied, attempting to regain your failing composure with a shooting assertion.
“Inappropriate remarks, hm? Then I suppose you’re ogling at me during the lecture isn’t the least bit inappropriate?”
Well shit. You thought to yourself. I got caught.
“That… wasn’t my intention.” You deflected, taking a step backwards only to bump against a desk. Dottore did the opposite, stepping closer to you and effectively caged you between his arms and desk. He towered over you, his icy-blue hair falling from the sides of his face to frame his features.
“Then show me what was so interesting on your phone. I wish to know what exactly caught the attention of my dear student that was far more important to the lecture.” You fell straight into his web of conspiracy, there was no exit in sight.
“That would be an invasion of privacy.” You countered, still standing your ground against him. It was futile but you refused to go down without a fight.
“Show me or else I’ll report your behavior to the Dean. I’m sure my assets as both a chairman and professor here would prove too important to risk a scandal.” Dottore laid his cards out for you, it spelled an utter and complete victory.
“I…” You flushed, grimacing before you reluctantly gave in. There was far too much at stake for you to lose your scholarship over this one incident. So, you conceded. “Fine.”
Unlocking your phone, you watched his expression morph with every scroll of the text messages shared between you and Childe. At one point, his eyes widened with slight shock before raising an eyebrow - you presumed that he read the text about ‘ fucking for better grades .’
“Such filthy words.” He muttered, setting your phone aside on his desk. “I didn’t think someone like you would have such intentions.”
Dear gods, you wanted to disintegrate in that very moment. The humiliation was far too much for you.
“I… I’m not like that…” You defended yourself helplessly, knowing full well that this wasn’t shifting the tides in your favor. “Professor—“
“Sir,” he corrected you. “My profession is first and foremost a doctor. I don’t like being called a professor of academia.”
Your lips thinned to a tight frown. “I… Sir… Please… Look past this incident as nothing more than my own wrongdoings. I admit to being at fault for being distracted… I can’t lose this scholarship…”
His deep vermillion eyes sparked interest. “Why?”
You flinched, eyes falling to the floor. “I am in no financial position to lose this grant… If I lose this, my life is over… My parents will disown me—!”
Cracked under the weight of unbearable pressure, you’ve bore this cross on your back since the start. That night at Angel’s Share was the culmination of your breakdown, the start of the spiral downwards.
“Please… don’t report this to the Dean. I can’t… I… I would have nothing left…”
Dottore stared at you with unsympathetic eyes. Such nihilism he’s seen time and time again, the price of innocence paid by sanity and money. He himself was a product of such - graduating at just twenty four, he was praised by the world of science. Even still, it wasn’t enough, was it?
“Look at me.” He said sternly. You listened, following his orders.
He slipped his glove past his fingers, taking them off as he brought his bare hands to your face. His fingertips traced away the mist beneath your waterline, slender fingers exploring your features with delicate touches.
You melted into his touches, shaking as he leaned close to press an experimental kiss to your forehead. You accepted it - accepted him. You were all too desperate for the touch of another human.
“Please…” You muttered breathlessly, unsure of exactly what you were asking for. Dottore dipped his head to the side, his lips against the skin of your cheek as his hands traveled down to your waist. His hand slotted perfectly into the dips of your body. He holsted you up into the desk with ease, hands remaining on your waist.
His lips wandered to the side of your neck, exposed skin for him to paint over with maroon bruises. He experimented with soft kisses, testing to see where you were most sensitive. A loud moan escaped you once he found your sweet spot, prompting him to suck eagerly.
“D-Dottore…!” You cried, your nails found their way to his back as he continued to work on your neck. He let out a quiet hum, pleased with your reaction. Slowly, his hands began to peel the clothes off of you, taking it all off and throwing it somewhere in his office space. It left you barren with just your undergarments on, cool air hitting your hot skin.
“ Fuck ,” he groaned lowly, planting another kiss against your now exposed collarbones. “Perfect… utterly perfect.”
His praises made your head spin with giddy delight. Drunk on his voice and kisses, you keeled and begged for more. Desperation always proved itself to be the best drug, a high that you couldn’t come down from. “Please… I need you… Sir.”
He chuckled at your words, pulling away to admire your disheveled state. “Hm… So you choose to act obediently now. Moments ago, you were spitting horrible accusations at me.”
You shook your head at him, stupefied with a horrible desire clouding your decision. “I… I was wrong. Please… Please don’t leave… I‘ll do anything…!”
Dottore smirked at you, mischief glowing bright in his sanguine hues. “Is that so?” He pressed another kiss to your neck. “You’re going to be a good girl for me then?”
You choked back tears, nodding without consequence. “Yes… Yes…! I’ll do anything you say, sir…!”
The internal conflict in you quickly melted away, knowing full well that regardless of the consequences that follows— this was something you have been craving for a long time. Perhaps not exactly this very scenario but the desperation has been there since the start. You just needed to be tipped to the edge.
Yet through all of this, it was oddly liberating to finally give into your desires having restrained yourself for so long. You wondered if this craven aspect of yourself has always existed since the very start.
“How obedient you are….” Dottore praised you, his voice husky with dripping sex. It was maddening, the way he made you feel with just his voice alone.
“Sir… Please… I need you…” You hiccuped, feeling incredibly overwhelmed with the heat coiling in your stomach.
Dottore hummed, musing over your reaction. “What do you need me to do, pretty girl?” His slender fingers gently tugged the hems of your undergarments, teasing you.
“T-Touch me… Please. I need you…” He was pleased with your response, taking off the remainder of your clothes with ease.
“Needy.” He whispered into your ear, hot breath fanning against your exposed skin as he teased your inner thighs with his fingers, bringing them close to the apex of your thighs.
“Be gentle…” You mumbled, clinging onto him as he flicked his thumb over your clit experimentally. You moaned softly, your body trembling at the sudden stimulation. A wildfire blazed in your stomach as he continued to touch you.
Dottore knelt down, his face just inches away from your pussy. You flushed at the sight, seeing him so closely near your privates - you suddenly grew shy, pressing your legs close to shield yourself. He clicked his tongue in irritation, large hands moving to pry them back open (with moderate ease). Immediately, he brought his lips to your clit and began sucking, drawing out an intense and loud breathy moan from you.
“W-Wait… Dottore…!” You gasped as he slapped your thigh, causing violent shudders through your body as he continued to eat you out with fervor. His tongue lapping up your dripping nectar, savoring it like it was the ambrosia from the gods.
“Stay still.” He commanded, pulling away for just a moment before driving his tongue into you, tasting the sweetest of honey as you writhed and whimpered above him. “Come for me.”
Your orgasm was ripped from your body unexpectedly; one that sent shockwaves through your spine. The coil in you snapped with the sucking and teasing of your clit; prompting you to let out a muffled scream of broken ecstasy. Your legs grew weak as you slowly came down from your high, tears misting your vision as you looked down at your professor - seeing your essence all over his clothes and chin.
“Dottore…” You whined for him, arms reaching out as he stood back up, wiping his chin of the mess you made.
“Look at the mess you made.” He berated you, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and tossing it aside. His broad chest is taut with muscles, prominent abs that are sculpted to his body - leading down to the very visible v-line hidden beneath his dress pants.
“Eyes up here.” He instructed, watching as you lazily glanced up back at him. He observed as you breathed heavily, recovering from your sudden high before he moved to buckle his pants. The heavy sound of the belt dropping to the floor echoed through his office, a reminder of what’s to come next.
“Needy little thing,” he muttered into your ear, prompting you to whine in response to his words. “Keep your voice down… Unless you enjoy the thought of someone catching us in the act…”
The thought brought on another wave of wanton pleasure for you; being caught by a student or even staff member whilst you engaged in a moment of intimacy with your professor. How utterly scandalous.
He gently touched your over-sensitive clit, teasing you with a smirk as you bit down on your bottom lip to prevent a particularly loud moan from escaping. Tears brimmed your eyes as you threw your head back in pleasure.
“Oh, would you like that? Being known as the slut who fucked her professor?”
You mewed at his harsh words, whining as you leaned into him. “N-No… I don’t…” Your words were slurred, drunken with lustful intent as you breathed in his cologne; a spicy peppery aroma dulled with a woody musk.
“How adorable.” Dottore mused, pushing his briefs down to reveal his heavy cock dripping with beads of precum. His slender fingers wrapped around the base of his thick shaft, pumping it as he propped your legs up with his free hand. “You were made for this, hm? Made for me to toy with.”
He said it all so matter-of-factly, you almost believed him. That perhaps this was your entire purpose, for him to tease and play with. Like an experiment to draw conclusions and satisfactory results from. Like a doll for him to use and play with.
“Sir…” You moaned as Dottore lined himself against your entrance, the head of his cock felt heavy against your weeping hole. The sensation alone made you grow with dizziness, wondering how wonderfully he would stretch you open. “Fuck… Please… I want you…”
Dottore leaned over your hips, firmly slotting his naked body against yours. “Beg for me.”
He truly was going to be the death of you.
“Dottore…! Professor…! Please. I need you so bad…! I’ll be good. I’ll do anything you ask of me…!”
Desperation hung in the air like a thick fog pumped full of aphrodisiac. Heavy, the scent of sex and sweat was most prominent as two broken individuals grasped for the other— tangling their lives in lust for just a moment. Distractions from reality, even so brief; it was enough.
Dottore slammed himself into you without hesitation, prompting a silent moan to leave you lips as his fingers found their way to your legs once again, holsting them up as he pounded into you without mercy. His heavy cock stretched you with a delicious burn, satisfying the horrible ache that carved you open. You wanted nothing more in that moment, to be used and utterly spent by him.
“Spread your legs for me,” he said through gritted teeth, feeling dizzy with the tightness of your needy hole. Dottore held your legs over his shoulder as he continued to snap his hip forwards, coaxing you to spread your legs farther. The tip of his cock brushing against the entrance of your cervix, prompting tears to well up in your eyes.
Gasping for air, you cried as he rammed into you with reckless abandon. You swore with every thrust, you could feel him in your stomach, effectively knocking the air out of you. Lightheadedness gained on you the longer he fucked you, his cock driving itself mercilessly into your body as one of his hands found itself to your clit. The moment his thumb made contact with your sensitive bud, you lost it.
Tears wetted your eyes as he rubbed circles around your clit, overstimulating you to a breakpoint as you came without warning.
Dottore hissed as you tightened around his thick cock, not slowing down as you whimpered and cried for him to stop.
“P-Professor…!” He nearly came with just the way you cried out for him, your whimpers and sobs. “Please…! I can’t…! It’s too much—““
“You’re a good slut, yeah?” His words shut you up almost instantly. Despite how demeaning he was towards you, it still made you feel disgustingly good. “You’re all mine, understood? Mine to touch. Mine to fuck. Mine to ruin.”
Mindlessly, you nodded, crying out a ‘ yes’ to his words. Some of it registered in your mind but you were too fucked out to fully comprehend what he was saying.
Dottore smirked, his vermillion eyes glowing with terrifying excitement. “Good girl.”
He snapped his hips back against yours, fucking you through your overstimulation. He hissed at your tightness, groaning as you clamped around his thick cock with every thrust. “You 're made for this. Made for me to use.”
In a few hard thrusts, Dottore reached his own climax. He had the decency to pull out of you, pumping himself until he painted your chest white with his cum. You flushed at the sight, still trembling as you came down from your own euphoria. You brought a finger to the warm, thick spent that painted your body - bringing it to your tongue to taste him. Utterly divine.
For a moment, he was silent. Eyes scanning over your completely disheveled appearance before grabbing and handing you a tissue to clean yourself up. Between the two of you, there still lacked a proper emotional connection necessary in moments like this.
“I…” You began quietly, unsure exactly what should be said. “I’m… satisfied if that’s what you're worried about.”
You heard Dottore scoff, his back turned to you as he began dressing himself. “I know you’re satisfied.”
You frowned but said nothing as he collected your clothes from the floor, bringing it over to you with his eyes scanning over your body.
“Can I… ask you something, Professor?”
He rolled his eyes at you. “Don’t call me that when we’re alone.”
You blinked twice, taking in his words. “Then… is Dottore, okay?”
“You’ve called me that multiple times now.” He stated the obvious, growing irritated as he combed through his messy hair with his slender fingers.
“Fine. Dottore …” You began, looking up at him. “You won’t be reporting to the Dean… will you?”
“Not unless you piss me off.”
You smiled a bit, feeling relief with this reassurance. “I won’t do anything intentional… But you can always put me back in my spot if I do anger you.”
Dottore looked up, meeting your gaze. Blood vermillion hues bore into your own as he searched for an answer in your eyes full of mischief. He answered you with a slight chuckle, smirk tugging at the corner of his lip.
“You’re utterly insatiable.”
_______________
five , behind heaven’s gates (conclusion)
SOMEHOW, YOU MADE it through the rest of the term without any more catastrophic mishaps or hiccups. Naturally, you would applaud yourself for the results of your hard work but said hard work really just consisted of keeping yourself and your not-so-sneaky-link of a partner in line. Though, most times, it’s you who needs to learn the arts of restraint and not the other way around.
It became a normalized aspect of your week - to see him before or after class. On the days you didn’t have your biochemistry lecture, you would see him outside of campus. Even so, you were a bit hesitant about the relationship the two of you had as anything more than just being ‘friends with benefits’ (or more accurately in this case - ‘student-teacher with benefits’). Eventually, you even told Childe who masterfully deduced that something else was going on beside ‘study sessions.’
Following the next term, you continued to meet up with Dottore albeit outside of classes. He satisfied your underlying desires and vice versa. Occasionally, he would even indulge in a fancy restaurant reservation at some famous steakhouse - something utterly unaffordable to you but he dressed you up for the part. Fanciful suits and cocktail dresses alike, he made sure to get you the best. The thought did cross your mind occasionally - just where the hell he had all this money but you never minded so long as he provided and you satisfied him in terms of sex.
Childe utterly supported you with wild enthusiasm though he did express his feelings on Dottore; more specifically how he creeped him out with his shockingly accurate observations and cold gaze. That and your own dramatic shift from ‘innocent scholarship undergraduate with honors’ to ‘disguised scholarship student with an underlying horrible degradation and humiliation kink.’ Notably, Childe wasn’t necessarily wrong in this case. But you argued that it wasn’t like you were trying to get better grades in Dottore’s class, quite the opposite really.
Miraculously, you passed the final exam with an astounding 96, all with some ‘extra lessons’ with Professor Dottore but you digressed. What was most satisfying were the faces of utter disbelief and bewilderment from those snarky pre-meds who thought you were nothing more than a joke at the start of the term. That and maybe the implied rewards Dottore promised if you scored well.
This all accumulated in the last week of your final year wherein you had to give a presentation on your senior thesis to at least three presenting department chairmen. To your surprise, Dottore agreed to be one of the members present.
“Why?” You asked him, feeling his slender fingers trace over your bare skin. The cool air of his penthouse made you shiver.
“I don’t show bias to anyone.” He answered simply, his hands placed firmly on your hip. “Least of all, you.”
You pouted a bit at his words. “Cruel. Can’t you show even the slightest bit of leniency towards me?”
“Absolutely not.” He grumbled, propping his head up with his free hand. His hair draped over his face, moonlight cascading like a halo over his features.
You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. “Fine… Can you at least tell me who the other two members will be?”
“Pantalone and Columbina.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Will Professor Pantalone be there?”
A scoff eluded his lips. “He insisted.”
Now this intrigued you. “Insisted…? Why is that?” Your cheeks darkened with realization. “Oh…”
Dottore let out an exasperated sigh, tousling his hair with his free hand. “No matter. I expect you to do well.”
“Your expectations is creating unnecessary stress for me…” You replied sardonically, turning to your side, resting your head against his muscular chest. The velvet blankets beneath you shifted over your legs.
“ If I didn’t believe you would do well, I wouldn’t have recommended you to the history department.”
Your eyes widened at his words, glancing up at him. “You did what?”
“You heard me.” He was rolling his eyes at you. “I told Columbina about your thesis with a recommendation. Hence why she will be present.”
You let out a sigh, shaking your head. “You… didn't need to do that. I wouldn’t want our relationship to impose my academic future.”
“But you need that recommendation to get into Sumeru Akademiya, don’t you? I don’t like favors nor bias. I will only do this just once.” He’s right, that much you knew. With his and possibly Columbina’s backing, you would definitely get into Sumeru.
“You studied there for your doctorate, correct?” Eyes flickering to the empty walls of his bedroom, only framed diplomas and certificates lined the desolate space.
“I did. Therefore my recommendation holds more weight. But to enter the history department, you would need more sway.” You felt his hand ghost over the side of your body, moving up your shoulder blade as he pulled you close. The sudden intimacy was something you weren’t used to. Dottore rarely showed you any sort of affection outside of the moments of passion wherein his expert hands held you close. “Why did you choose to study history? Such a dull subject of all things.”
It was rather sanctimonious of you to base your senior thesis upon ‘the impact of religious influence in the modernization of nations’ seeing as how you yourself didn’t share a faith with those who worship the bygone gods. Above all that, the man beside you was a man of science - choosing sacrilege and blasphemy over faith. It was terribly satirical to have someone such as you deliver a piece on theology. Yet… The antithesis of your varied religion casts doubt on your concepts of fate and causation.
“I… just find it fascinating.” You answered, unsure exactly you could put your dilemma into words.
“Hm…” He hummed before he pulled the cover over your body. “It’s late.”
His observations are always said in solemnity. With time, you grew to pick up the second meaning of his words.
“It is.” You yawned quietly, leaning closer to him. “Kiss me goodnight.”
Intimacy often eluded him entirely - opting for stringless sessions yet he always found his way back to you. Even his genius mind couldn’t explain why that was. Dottore obliged, seeing this action as more or less a reward for your performance earlier. Softly, he pressed his lips to your forehead before drawing away, vermillion eyes glossing over the maroon blossoms marring your skin. All his.
“See you tomorrow.” He heard you say softly. Vermillion hues followed you, tracing over your figure as you melted into the sheets with drowsiness. He brought a hand to the side of your face, gently brushing aside stray hairs. Silver halo wreathes the crown of your head, split moonlight dripping until all faded to black.
As for Dottore, he stayed up longer to watch you sleep. His eyes followed as your chest rose and fell, heavy breathes eluding your lips as you slept peacefully. Slowly, he brought a hand to your face as he leaned down. His lips pressed softly against your temple as he pulled away to see you stir from his sudden action. Thankfully, you didn’t wake up.
It was odd. Dottore was completely unable to describe the way his heart currently felt. All he knew at that time was that for then and future, he would be content with this life. That you were more than enough, even if you felt otherwise (Dottore, despite being a prodigy genius, lacked the emotional capacity to recognize love when it was standing in front of him). Perhaps a lesson for him to learn for the future.
And it was just that, a lesson. If the circumstances was different, would fate have allowed for this to happen? Your thesis on the ways the gods’ will dictated humanity presents a notion of entwined fates and destiny - prompting the man of science to think if exactly such blasphemie romance could be considered perfect. Sacrilegious, yet all the same. An experiment to conclude him; this game of observed circumstance.
To Dottore, this was the perfect lesson to indulge in blasphemy.