【𝐀 𝐕𝐞𝐢𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐥】➛𝓑𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓑𝓾𝓽𝓵𝓮𝓻

31

I've gone back and rewrote the 2nd half of chapter 26 Because even though mc was tipsy/drunk around the end of that chap I was drunk THROUGHOUT it so lol
And also Othello is kinda important and isn't jst some side guy so i jst tried to make that known

The tent was smaller than she expected.

Even smaller than the ones Joker had allowed them to look in, a con of being closer to the first-string tents, she supposed. Not claustrophobic, exactly, but less spacious than the others. Canvas walls stretched taut, smelling faintly of oil, dust, and old fabric warmed by lantern light. A single lantern hung from a hook, its glow turning everything amber and soft around the edges. One narrow bunk bed occupied most of the space.

Fortunately for them, a pro of being closer to the first-string tents was that the smell was considerably less pungent...what a treat.

William paused just inside the entrance, surveying it with the same expression he used for everything. Mild disappointment, carefully measured.

"Well," he said at last, adjusting his glasses, "this is... efficient."

"That's one word for it," [Name] replied, stepping inside and setting her things down without ceremony. She glanced at the bunks. "Top or bottom?"

William barely hesitated. "Bottom."

Of course.

He removed his coat with meticulous care, folding it rather than hanging it, as though the canvas wall had offended him personally. His movements were unhurried, unguarded in a way she hadn't seen when Sebastian was nearby. Less stiffness in his shoulders. Less tension in his jaw.

She noticed. Of course she did.

The silence was awkward for a brief moment, [Name] took off her hat, setting it on an empty crate.

"So," he said casually, as if they weren't sharing a tent in the middle of a circus crawling with rats, "Columbine."

She hummed. "Suit."

A corner of his mouth twitched. Almost a smile.

"An odd choice," William continued, settling down onto his lower bunk, his posture more relaxed than it was earlier, certainly less moody as well. "For you and your... angel."

"Symbolic," she replied. "Apparently, we're tragic lovers in Italian theatre. Or at least that's what the circus seems to see us as."

"I see." He settled more, his back now relaxed almost completely as they conversed. "And here I assumed you had picked the names yourself."

"I fear we didn't have much of a say in that matter." She responded, sitting down on a crate beside the bunk. "But the irony is funny, I suppose,"

William's eyes flicked to her.

"Hm. That tracks."

There was a brief silence, the kind that might have been awkward with anyone else. With William, it was simply...there. It wasn't uncomfortable, more of a silence that blanketed them as the situation settled.

"You smell different," he said suddenly.

She looked up. "Excuse me? Do all reapers have a thing for smell now?"

"Not unpleasant," he clarified, adjusting his glasses. "Just distinct. Earth, iron, cold air. You don't smell like the rest of them. The demon and angel have a distinct scent detectable to us. Even ordinary beings, they smell of soil. You smell similar...but not the same as them."

She laughed softly. "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me today."

"It wasn't meant as a compliment," he replied flatly, yet he still glanced away for the briefest of moments before looking back.