꒰ 🥥 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟedluca oneshots. ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

pitter patter

ooc

hey. i'm trying to make this aesthetic for some reason. anyways, please enjoy my poorly-written story about edluca cuddling in a storm- theyre so ooc its killing me but eh. this was inspired by another fic on ao3, i think it's called thunderstorms.

pitter patter

A quiet, dark, room lay still in the confines of the Oletus Manor. Raindrops began to gently attack the windows, and pale moonlight blanketed the dusted windowsill. Upon it, lay a few plants, all vaguely resembling one another. One was taller, one was lighter, one was thinner, yet they all looked the same. Translucent white curtains carefully sway in the slight wind, coming from one of the thin windows. The sturdy wooden floorboards had been painted white, and a fluffy beige carpet had been laid upon it. The carpet homed a queen-sized bed, with many blankets and pillows, with a monochromatic colour scheme.

A man with pale brown hair hid on this bed. His cold blue eyes glistened with hints of tears, and his almost porcelain-like face shared two emotions; frustration and... fear?

This man was usually self-asserted and strong, devoid of all emotions but anger, yet now he was in a state of vulnerability. He cradled his own legs, and sobbed into his knees silently, as a crash erupted from the skies.

Every time there was a storm, he had to endure it alone. There was never another person to comfort him, and even if somebody had tried to, he would just push them away.
Edgar had always hated thunderstorms, ever since he had first witnessed one. He had usually adapted to weathers such as these, but this had been the first time he had had to witness one in the cold, silent manor. He sighed and allowed himself to sob a bit louder, figuring that maybe if he had cried loud enough the loud bangs of the storm would be silenced. He clenched his jaw in anger, why would it not let him sleep? Couldn't he just ignore the terrifying groans of the wind and the deafening thunder? Why had the once-comforting droplets of rain against his window turned into a personal attack against his happiness and safety? The painter sulked in frustration, attempting to ignore all noise. The certain storm was pushing his limits, and he hugged his knees closely.

Although, while unsuccessfully trying to avoid the crashes of the clouds, he had also avoided other sounds. These included somebody knocking on his bedroom door, and entering. The presence tried to speak to the man, but their attempt had failed. Edgar had only realised that he had company when the person carefully rested their hand upon his quivering shoulder.

Once this happened, the painter seemed stunned and fell back in fear. Was it the storm, a lightning bolt? Maybe it was the roof cascading down after being struck? Or maybe-

Luca Balsa had always been sweet to everybody, and Edgar was no exception. After realising that he had scared the smaller man, he began to profusely apologise and explain himself. The painter's mind lagged behind, and he sighed. "B-Balsa, knock! A door exists for a reas-" He began to whisper, when he was interrupted.

"Shh, Edgar. 'ts okay." The taller man sat down on the bed and laid a hand on the painter's back. "It's the storm, right?" Edgar tried to think of a snarky response, but somehow all he could do was nod. The 'prisoner' moved towards him and, without preparation, pulled him closer. Edgar sat still, paralysed. Was he going to hurt him?

"I get if you're scared, I just..." He smiled gently and looked down at Edgar, stroking his hair. "I just wanted to help. I used to be scared of storms, too." Edgar gradually relaxed in the other's arms, and rested his head against the 'criminal''s chest. He could hear his heart pacing, and it was somewhat comforting. He laid in his lap and focused on his heart instead of the dangers of the storm. Never in his life, would he have thought that he would ever lay in anybody's arms so comfortably, yet here he was being cradled by Luca Balsa, of all people.

He looked up at him. A warm smile was plastered on his face, and for some reason that warmed Edgar's heart.

"Why aren't you as-asleep, Balsa?" He asked, trying to sound assertive, but his voice trembled and a whisper arose in place of what was meant to be a voice. What was meant to be silence was filled with sounds of the storm and rain, it was invasive and brash. Luca's voice spoke over the noises.

"Well, this might sound weird, but a' felt like something was wrong. Y'know? Just that little gut tangle ya get. An' mine was right, an' I'm happy I stayed up to find out. I'm here for you, y'know, Edgar?" Luca spoke quickly and calmly. Somehow, this comforted Edgar, and he just wanted to hear more.

"Ah- 'm sorry if I'm being too confident, I can leave if-" He sat up hurriedly, yet Edgar held onto him. All that he did was shake his head and close his eyes. Luca's eyes analysed the other; he was small, cold, scared...

"Don't leave, Luca..." The shaky voice mumbled into the other's shirt.

"O-okay." He answered in a quiet voice. He failed to hide the surprise in his voice, surprise at the fact that Edgar wasn't telling him to get lost - for once. Instead, he was much more clingy and allowed himself to show an emotion other than rage or concentration. Only in dreams would Luca predict that this would happen.

The two held each other cosily, even after the storm had quietened down to wind and rain. Just before Edgar fell to sleep, he felt a soft kiss on his forehead, and the words, "Goodnight, Edgar." wavering in his ears.

the end.

ooc

i copy pasted this from google docs and it... aligned itself? ok wattpad pop off ig. anyways i hope you enjoyed this little thingymabob. yeeeeeeaaaahhhhhh see you next time i update this.