eternal flame | tartaglia x reader

Chapter Seventeen

For the first time in a long while, Ajax is still there when you wake up. The expectation that he'll leave is wedged inside you, like the smallest shard of glass, so you approach your bed carefully. You're scared that Ajax will startle like a wild animal, pack up and flee if you make a wrong step and spook him.

"Awake yet, Ajax?" you whisper.

The heap of blankets on your bed groans back in response.

They rustle, momentarily, before a mop of auburn hair pops out from the top of the pile.

"Hey," his voice is muffled by the blankets.

You place a hand on his head, scratching your fingernails gently down his scalp. Ajax pulls the blankets down past his chin before leaning into your touch, eyes still closed.

A few seconds later, Ajax grabs your wrist, stopping the motion immediately. His eyes are open, but they're pointed at the ceiling. You don't move, you don't want to startle him.

"I'm sorry," is all Ajax says. "You don't deserve this. You shouldn't have to live with this."

Please don't leave. Is the only thought running through your mind. It's all that you can bring yourself to care about. Even after hearing the confessions of his worst crimes, you can't stand the thought of having him leave again.

You pull your arm away, freeing your wrist from his grasp.

"Don't apologise anymore, I asked for the whole story," you're firm in your resolution.

A flicker of something washes over Ajax's face, it's no longer than a second, but something changes.

"Got it," Ajax is grinning, though his expression resembles that of a statue. There must have been hours of careful sculpting put into his smile.

It's more than a mask that he takes on and off at will. It's a wall that he's built and reinforced god knows how many times.

"Hey," you reach out for Ajax. He's already out of the bed, fixing his scarf and attempting to brush past you and out of the room. Your fingers close around the tail end of his jacket, stopping Ajax in his tracks.

"I have to get to the bank." Ajax doesn't look back at you.

You inhale sharply. "Come back when you're done with work. Promise."

"Okay," he agrees, so you release the crumpled fabric from your hold.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, as you polish off your last few Rex Lapis memorial art pieces. Every few minutes, you can't help but glance up at the clock expectantly, waiting for Ajax to return. Does a harbinger even have a schedule? Will he be back when eight hours are over? Ten? Before it's time to eat dinner?

As you watch the sun sink beneath the horizon, you wonder if Ajax will return at all.

The clock on the wall ticks closer and closer toward midnight. You clench your shaking fist tightly, fearing that Ajax is slipping through your fingers once again.

There's a soft rapping on the door.

You're met with tones of ashen fabric when you swing it open, and relief crashes over you like a wave off the shores of the Sea of Clouds. It's as if your body acts on its own, as you wrap your arms around Ajax's torso in an embrace.

"You're so happy because of the takeout right?" Ajax asks with a chuckle. You become vaguely aware of the paper bag in his hand. Honestly, it's one of the best things you've smelled in a while.

Ajax places a gentle hand on the top of your head, "I promised that I'd come back, didn't I?"

He came back. And it's enough.

You don't muffle your sobs this time, instead you fall apart in the doorway of your room at the inn, clinging onto Ajax as if he's your lifeline.

Time flows on indefinitely. Ajax continues to return, every day. You maintain enough composure to not greet him with tears and snot every day, though you can't say that the urge isn't there. After the third or fourth night, you begin sharing the bed.

"I've got the couch tonight," Ajax stifles a yawn.

You roll your eyes, "And listen to you complain about your old man back tomorrow? No way."

"You're the one hunched over an easel all day long."
"Then we'll share," you sigh, throwing an extra pillow on the bed.

On the seventh night, you wake up to a paper slipped under the door.

Valued customer,

We would like to remind you that your time at Wangshu Inn will soon be coming to an end, as your expected checkout time will be at 10:00 tomorrow. We thank you for your patronage.

"Archons," you groan, reading the paper in your hand. You've been so absorbed in everything recently that you haven't even had the chance to look for a new place to live. The little haven you've created with Ajax in this room will soon come to an end, just when it feels like you're finally getting to know him again.

"What's wrong?" Ajax comes to rest a chin on your shoulder to read the memo.

"I haven't even started looking for new apartments yet," you admit, crushing the paper into a ball with your fist.

"No problem, just come and live with me," Ajax shrugs, as if he's just made the most casual offer in the world. His lack of either shame or awareness, will never fail to surprise you.

It's easy, moving into Ajax's apartment. Easier than anything has been with Ajax since you were six years old and making snow angels in your backyard. He's cleaned out his office and furnished it as a spare bedroom for you.

"Ah, how much is your rent, by the way?" you ask him as he helps unpack boxes of your belongings. You're sure that you've got enough to cover your half of it.

Ajax shrugs, "It's all covered by work, you don't need to worry about it."
"Oh," you pause, "Is it okay for me to live here then?"

Ajax snorts, "I'm sure that her Majesty has more to worry about than my living situations."

Right, Ajax's boss is literally God. You should probably summon up an offering of sorts for her later, as a thanks for extending this generosity.

"I should, er- pay you back in some way," you hope that you don't come across as too flustered.

Until you get a glimpse of Ajax, who has turned red at the cheeks and tips of his ears, you realise you don't have anything to worry about.

"Could you- could you draw my siblings for me?" he asks. "I have pictures, but you've probably seen them more than I have. It would be invaluable."

You agree in an instant, deciding not to tease him about his blush either. After that Ajax leaves for work, and later that day he returns. The cycle continues, and you never grow tired of the small adrenaline rush when he opens the front door at the end of every day.

It really was just a small adrenaline rush, incomparable to the amounts of the hormone pumping through your body right now. The panic, the dread, the adrenaline that you're feeling because twenty-four hours have passed, and Ajax has not come home.