Chapter Text
You'd came in after hours.
A knock at the door. Soft. Almost as if you didn't want to be heard.
The Fount did not answer. If he did, his assistant—and maybe Sugar—would nag him about adequate rest, should they find out.
You knocked again.
He relented, letting out a sigh before opening the door.
"What do you want," he asked bluntly, the slightest hint of exasperation in his voice.
"It's late."
(He recognised you immediately. He'd seen you before, trailing after your friends like a lost dog. You also had given him some flowers, many years ago, after a lecture. He'd kept them, and put a spell on them so they would not wilt.)
Your mind blanked, the words you'd rehearsed in your mind tumbling away.
"I wanted to- I- Um-" you stuttered, shaky hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. Oh witches, he was gonna get mad, and he'd hate you—
"Are you alright?" he asked. The Fount didn't know why he asked. He should've told you to go—but maybe he cared, just the slightest bit.
Your brain answered before you could stop it.
"No."
He started this, so he supposes that he should continue on.
"Would you like to come in and have some tea?"
You nodded. Tea would be nice. It'd calm your nerves ever-so-slightly, or so you'd hope.
He went into the room that he had exited a few minutes ago, with you trailing in behind him. The Fount pointed at a nearby low table, mumbling for you to sit there. And you did, while observing his room —his office. There were some paintings on the wall, a child's crayon drawing of him, and some pressed flowers that looked awfully familiar.... Oh.
The Fount called your name. You blinked. Two cups of tea—chamomile, you noted—were on the table.
"Ah! Sorry-! I must've zoned out- I'm so so sorry for that!" you said quickly.
"No need to apologise." he said, pushing one of the cups closer to you.
"Now drink."
He took the seat next to you, drinking from his own cup. You noted that it bright pink with a flower pattern and had to stifle a laugh.
"What's so funny?" he asked.
"Didn't expect you to have a pink cup. Thought you'd have something more darker, maybe," you said.
"The Sugar of Happiness gave it to me," he replied.
"Ah, I see." That made sense, you supposed. You took your cup— your favorite color with stars on it— and took a sip. The tea was a perfect temperature, not too hot and not too cold.
The room was blanketed in a comfortable silence. He broke it first.
"How have you been doing? Are your classes alright?" he asked.
You didn't want to answer that. You did anyways.
"My test scores speak for themselves." Despite trying your best, your scores wouldn't budge. In fact, you'd say they simply got lower and lower.
"Ah. Yes. I've seen your scores going down. You can do better, I've seen your potential," he said it without thinking, only realising that it could be insensitive after the words came out.
Impulsively, and maybe a little childishly, you stood up, hands gesturing in the air, and exclaimed, "I've been trying and trying, but nothing works! Everyone thinks I'm not trying hard enough, but I am trying my absolute best!"
You realised that maybe you shouldn't have acted so impulsively, mumbling apology after apology before sitting down.
"I am sorry," the Fount said. "I may have been insensitive."
You didn't reply, instead choosing to drink your tea.
"I do not mean to imply that you do not try hard enough— quite the opposite— truly."
He reached out a hand to ruffle your hair.
(You barely managed to stop yourself from flinching at the hand. He did not say anything, so you think he does not notice, but he does. Of course he does.)
It was an impulsive action, but that did not deter him. He messed with your hair, before pulling away, bringing his hand to his lap before taking a sip of his tea.
A few moments passed. Your gaze fell back to the pressed wildflowers.
"You kept the flowers I gave you all those years ago?" you asked.
He smiled slightly, as he placed his cup back down. "Of course I did."
"Why?" you looked up at him instead of staring at the ground, head tilted slightly in curiosity.
"They were pretty. And did you know that I rarely receive gifts?" he replied.
"Oh." You didn't know what to say, and neither did he. Neither of you are good at conversation, really.
More seconds, more minutes, pass by as you drink your tea. The Fount glanced up at the yellow clock he had on his wall.
"You ought to get going," he said, "It's one-thirty and you have classes tomorrow."
He doesn't truly want you to leave, but it really is getting late.
"Alright," you mumble, reluctant to leave but getting up nonetheless.
He conjured the two cups out of existence.
"I could walk you back to your room if you'd like," he offered. He needed wanted you to stay, he really did, but he ought to put his useless needs wants aside and be a responsible teacher.
"Alright," you said. You supposed that at least you'd be in his presence, that way.
You walked out the door, this time with him trailing after you. Out the building you both went, the stars in the sky twinkling and grinning at the two of you. The stars in the Fount's hair twinkled back. The moon was full, the pale light shining on the two of you.
"The moon is beautiful tonight, don't you think?" you mused, not bothering to think of the meaning behind it, far too tired for that.
He didn't think about it either, despite the small bit of familiarity that made him think he read the phrase before, and replied, "Indeed it is."
(He would think about it later, the meaning of the words clicking a little too late. It clicked for you a little too late as well, realising how you'd just kind of told him "I love you.")
It didn't take too long to reach the dorms. You walked to your room, the Fount still following close behind. You rummaged through your pockets, pulling out a key with a star-shaped bow, attached to a keychain of some character you liked.
"Goodnight," you said to him.
"Goodnight to you too," he replied.
On a whim, you blurted out, "Could we have tea together again, another time? It would be nice for- for this to be a regular occurrence."
"Of course, I wouldn't mind," the Fount replied, and you thought you saw the stars in his hair sparkle a little more.
"Thank you," you said, unlocking your door.
He took a step back, ready to leave. "Don't stay up late," he called out, and for once you thought to listen, lest you fall asleep in class again.
"Okay," you took a step into your room, still facing him. "Goodbye," and you waved to him.
"Bye," he mumbled, as you locked the door.
He let out a sigh, conjuring a portal to lead him back to his office.
Maybe he'd try to sleep, tonight.