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

night night

night night

this is edgar pov !!

-

Once again, I had been painting. A weak wind embraced me and my work, engulfing me in the opaque gouache laid atop my small canvas. A desk lamp was positioned beside me, turned towards my work; the gentle beams of light illuminating every stroke which I had planted from the seed of my imagination. At this point, I had lost track of the time. It was most probably well past midnight and eventually, a noticeable pain grew in my head. I naturally attempted to ignore it, yet even then I had noticed that it had begun to take a toll on my performance, so I placed my paintbrush on the easel and looked towards my windowsill.

The darkness was dominating my room, and I glanced around to see if I had any water left. Paint water was the only source, and obviously I wouldn't taint my blood with the cheap Oletus Manor paints - so I decided to go to the kitchen. The temptation to wait until my headache was over grew on me, but that would mean that I would have to suffer through painful hours with a raspy throat and poor focus on my masterpieces, so I resisted the urge and lifted myself off of my stool. A plethora of intimidating thoughts invaded my tired mind; What if there would be another person there? Would I need to interact with them?

Yet I continued to drag my feet across towards my door, and took a breath before pulling the doorknob and stepping out into the rusty halls of the Oletus Manor. Gentle moonlight flooded across the creaky floorboards of the manor, emitting a gentle glow around. Specks of dust faded through the beams as I made my way towards the stairwell. Though, as I tiptoed throughout the cold, empty halls, a feeling began to creep up on me. Fear seeped through my soul, and combined with the cold, resulted in my body shaking ever-so-slightly. I stepped on the wooden staircase, and my eyes dashed at every little noise - which the old building was full of. I stopped in front of the kitchen door, and hesitantly pushed open the blocks of wood.

Upon my entrance, a pair of bright, gray eyes met my very own. I jolted in my steps and studied the figure sitting upon the kitchen counter. Their messy, brown bangs fell onto their face without a care, and the rest was loosely tied into a ponytail. Small scars and freckles littered the skin on their face, and several bandages decorated their neck. A large chain was placed atop their striped shirt and two leg braces clutched onto their dark jeans. A pair of eyes, one heavily bruised, stared back at me and their mouth curled into a smile, with a single snaggletooth peering out from their mouth.

"Eddie, g'mornin'! You look tired, 's everything alright?" The clumsy prisoner beamed at my presence alone, and he hopped off of the shiny counter to greet me.

"Balsa, leave." I averted my eyes from his, and stepped towards the cupboards to get a glass. The fear which had formerly resided in my heart quickly faded away, yet my heart was still beating faster than usual. As I went to reach for a glass, he rested his arm on the counter beside me and placed his head on it.

"'s four in the morning, why're you still up?" His tone grew quieter and I lifted my arm to grab a glass, yet for some reason some idiot had placed it extremely high up. Luca, with no hesitation, swiped one and handed it to me with the same dumb smile as before.

"I'm painting, moron. And I do not need assistance with reaching a glass, thank you." My voice was harsh as usual, and I ignored the taller male heading over to the sink. He practically leeched onto my side, and my heart was still fast. I sat down on a chair and placed my glass on the table, then finally looked up at Luca.

"Y'know, you need to sleep. You have a match tomorrow, what if ya throw it?" The pain in my temples grew larger and I silently winced and looked back at the inventor.

"My need to sleep is not nearly as important as my paintings. It doesn't matter if I 'throw' the match, I need to finish my work. Besides, there is no way that I'd be able to sleep anyways." I sneered at Luca and looked at him, studying his face. He looked around, trying to avoid my gaze and I noticed that his eyes were slightly red and he sniffed every so often. Had he been crying before-

"Eddie, please... why can't you sleep?'' He looked into my eyes and in that moment, I felt like my soul was being pierced. His raspy voice lowered to a gentle tone, and his face had shifted to a more melancholic expression. I wondered which colours I would use to paint him, his bruised eye, the moonlight washing over his sharp yet gentle face- I threw the thought away. I would never paint a murderer. Yet why was it so tempting, to study his features, to capture his presence in a beautiful painting which I could keep forever?

"I've a headache." I gazed at the half-empty glass across from me, feeling my cheeks turn warm. God, why would I ever tell Luca Balsa of all people the truth?

I heard a shuffle, and a few footsteps, before a warm hand was laid onto my shoulder. "I'm sorry 'bout that, Eddie. Want an ice pack? You've gotta stop staying up so late..." His low voice whirled through my ears and my eyelashes fluttered. I felt warm, as if my throat was melting.

"Um... fine." To my dismay, what I had expected to be a brash 'Fine." came out as a trembling whisper. Pulses of pain filled my head, and I felt dizzy. His warm arm left my shoulder and my breaths grew heavier, listening to every little noise which the manor made. Footsteps, a cupboard, more footsteps, it felt loud and invasive to my sensitive ears. I groaned in pain and brought my hand up to my face, covering my eyes. I felt tired, so very tired...

I flinched as the chair I was sat on slowly moved back, and Luca handed me an ice pack to hold. To my surprise, I felt glad that he was back. What, a stupid prisoner? He was so dumb... yet I felt so safe. He brought an arm around my back, then under my knees and lifted me up. I looked up at him, trying to make a confused expression, but my head was becoming foggy due to the pain.

"Don't worry, Eddie. 'm here, right by your side." The prisoner climbed up the stairs and opened my door, pushing it open with his elbow and laying me atop my bed. He closed the door and positioned the ice pack on my head. I tried to feel annoyed, but with every second I grew more tired. All that I could do was sigh, and hope for the pain to end soon... I shut my eyes tightly and grimaced - listening to the scuffles and shuffles beside me until I felt my head being lifted and placed on his lap. My eyelids grew heavy while a hand slowly caressed my hair. Slowly, I felt myself drift away into the crevasses of the night, being lulled to sleep by the sounds of the breeze drifting outside and the supposed 'prisoner', Luca Balsa. Yet, just before I passed out, I heard his soft voice let out a quiet whisper.

-

My eyes fluttered open, and my head felt light. I looked up at my ceiling, attempting to think, and remembered the strange dream which I had just had. Luca Balsa, the inventor, had carried me to my bed like a princess and allowed me to fall to sleep in his arms. I sighed at the thought that the dreams with Luca were becoming more personal; yet even though I was disappointed in myself, a warm feeling lingered in my heart: and just as I sat up, something fell from my forehead. I looked down at my lap, and saw an ice pack with a small note attached.

'hey eddie !! im sorry i left, i was scared youd be mad when you wake up. hope your head doesnt hurt, im in my room if you need me  <3'

I furrowed my eyebrows. Was I still dreaming? No, this was real. How could someone be this sweet towards me, instead of all the others in this manor? I thought back to the previous night's events, and finally remembered the last words to grace upon my ears before I had fallen to sleep.

'I love you, Edgar. Sleep well...'

-

WHEW. ok i wrote this in one go. sorry if its bad besties i am merely a luca main. <33 

take a shot every time i say yet. ALSO THS IS SO SIMILAR TO THE LAST ONE IM SORR Y !!!