We'll Never Be the Same Again (Ignis x OC)

Chapter Three

Coffee.

Usually the smell of it would make Ignis smile, even if it was only a slight tilt of his lips. On any other day, he wouldn't have minded it being the only thing he could smell, and even though it wasn't his preferred brand, he found himself oddly drawn to it. But the person the smell clung to? Not so much...

True to her words, Dolor Tenebris became a regular fixture of the Citadel, having taken up office across the hallway from the royal advisor. On more than one occasion, Ignis heard her footsteps as she walked into the kitchen, and he found himself counting the seconds before she left. The time always varied; sometimes she was in there for mere minutes, and others she was in there for an hour or two. His curiosity of what she could be doing got the better of him one evening, about three weeks after she had taken the post.

Ignis let his nose guide him to the kitchen, and as soon as he entered he froze. Even though he couldn't see by standard means, what he could see caught him off guard. Humming drifted to his ears, and Ignis was surprised that he hadn't heard it earlier. The smell of burning chocolate made the advisor wrinkle his nose and a frown alighted on his face.

Mixed with the smell of the chocolate was the ever present odor of coffee. Ignis's frown deepened at this, what with him being a staple of the Citadel's kitchens since he was young.

"What are you doing?" A yelp resounded throughout the kitchen at his voice, and was quickly followed by an object clattering to the ground.

"Fucking hell!" Dolor's shout rang in Ignis's ears and bounced off the walls, creating a horrendous cacophony. Ignis grimaced, shooting a glare towards where he sensed the woman was standing. If there was anything he hated, it was disruption of the peace of the Citadel.

And this woman was doing just that.

"Answer the question." Dolor grumbled something under her breath, and it surprised Ignis that he couldn't hear what she said. He waited -- albeit not all that patiently -- for an answer.

"I was working on something," she muttered, the location of her voice sounding closer to the ground than before. Ignis could only assume that she was cleaning up whatever had fallen before.

"Something that involves the burning of sweets?" Ignis frowned. He could feel how she tensed as she stood, followed closely by something that could only be described as a groan of frustration.

"Fuck," Dolor whimpered, and Ignis could only imagine her crouched to the floor with her head in her hands. Just the thought alone was enough to make the stoic man smile to himself, even if it wasn't actually happening -- not that it mattered to Ignis. Counting his steps, he approached the barely visible shape, fingers skimming the countertop as he closed the distance between them.

"What were you trying to do?" he asked, a hint of softness in his voice. Although he couldn't see it, he felt Dolor's head whip up and could only imagine her wide eyes. After all, he had been quite uncivil with the woman, so his genuine interest in her activities came as a surprise to her.

"I-I was, um..." The girl tripped over her words as Ignis approached her, feeling her face begin to burn. Fuck.