Archive of Our Own ^beta

For the third time that hour, Tighnari catches Scara staring at Sethos as the man carried out tasks in the Akademiya. He sighs theatrically, filled with exasperation, though in truth, he feels a laugh bubble in his throat. Pushing it down, he pokes his friend’s arm, who doesn’t even budge, keeping his eyes glued to the desert dweller like removing them would kill him. 

“You know, you’d have much better luck getting his clothes off if you just talked to him.” That breaks Scara out of his daze, and he snaps his eyes to his friend to glare at him. Tighnari only shrugs, though the upward tick of his lips gives him away.

“See, while I wouldn’t have used the same words, I have told him much the same thing.” Faruzan joins them suddenly, sitting down to Tighnari daintily, crossing her arms and legs. Tighnari smiles when he sees her, an expression she returns easily. Scara, meanwhile, is still glaring at his fox-eared forest ranger friend, eyes narrowed sharply. 

“I do not need your commentary.” 

“No, but I’m giving it anyway, simply because I can. Even Madam Faruzan agrees that you’re hopeless.” 

The woman nods firmly. “That I do. I’ve told you before, Hat Guy, simply staring at the boy will do you no good. You must be proactive,” Scara groaned at that word. “In your desires, and reach for what you want. It’s tiring even me to watch you pine from the sidelines like this, and I have an almost bottomless well of patience.” Tighnari muffles a laugh behind his hand. 

Faruzan was a fairly recent addition to their duo, as she had spotted the forest ranger talking with (at) Hat Guy in the House of Daena and made her way over to exchange pleasantries when she caught the back end of what was apparently Tighnari scolding Hat Guy.

“...Ridiculous you’ve been now, right? What I had to put up with every time we saw each other for the past few weeks? It’s like you couldn’t hear the words coming out of your mouth.” The forest ranger had heaved a deep sigh, leaning back in his chair, and the scholar next to him had his hands buried in his face, though his abnormally large hat covered his bemoaning. It was a very pretty hat, Faruzan thought, remembering it from the Interdarshan Championship and walking closer to both study it and greet her friend, who had begun talking again. “I was so sure that your mind had disconnected from your mouth because none of what you were saying was making sense.”

The scholar, fed up with it, slams his hands down on the table. “Alright, I get it! You can stop your incessant chattering now. I was being ridiculous, I know, but let’s not act like you were annoyed the entire time. You were teasing me about it from start to finish. You took joy from my suffering.” 

The forest ranger shrugs, not denying it, and Faruzan’s interest grows. “Of course I did. You acted so different from when I first met you that I couldn’t help it. I bet you would take the chance to do the same if the roles were reversed.”

“You know me so well.” Hat Guy asserts with a flat voice and a look to match. Faruzan decided that then would be a good time to approach.

“Forest Watcher Tighnari,” She announces, loud enough to alert the two to her presence, and it works, as Tighnari’s ear twitched, angling toward her before he fully turns his head. He smiled at her, nodding as she approached. “Hat Guy,” She then says, and the man makes no move to greet her, his arms crossed in a way that made him look childish, though she was sure he wouldn’t appreciate hearing such a thing. She decides she’ll address his rudeness another time.

“I overheard a bit of your conversation just now, and I couldn’t help but feel curious. What was it that has you two so stressed?”

“Nothing.” Hat Guy says at the same as Tighnari says, “His nonexistent love life.” The Vahumana scholar had turned his head so slowly toward the forest ranger that even Faruzan felt a bit put off, but she shook the shivers out with a shake of her head. 

“A love life, you say? Well, I’m sure I could give you some advice that is sure to help somehow…” And thus began an extended conversation about using language to the best of one's ability, as well as how to make his already obvious attraction to Sethos (Faruzan figured it out when the man had passed by the table, waving at them as he went, and Hat Guy had taken on a look of dazedness), even more obvious. 

Since then, Faruzan has begun joining them whenever she spots Tighnari and Hat Guy together in the House of Daena, inserting herself in a way that Tighnari never minded, and Scara couldn’t protest against, lest he bear the weight of Tighnari’s glare for scaring one of his friends away (not that the forest ranger could ever scare him, but an irritated Tighnari was immensely more annoying to deal with, so really, it was Scara making a difficult decision each time).

Right now, Hat Guy is just barely keeping his irritation from showing on his face, if the constant tapping of his fingers against the table was anything to go by. Tighnari laughs to himself, grateful for the entertainment knowing someone so expressive could provide. Kaveh was ceaselessly amusing in his pronounced facial expressions, even if he did often have to comfort the man and reassure him that ‘no, you’re not crazy, he could have said that nicer’ or ‘yes, I agree, that painting he picked out was horrendous’ (he’s sure Alhaitham would do the last one on purpose because no one had that bad of a taste in decor and the man loved seeing the faces Kaveh made. No, he might not have said as much out loud, but it was obvious to everyone except Kaveh. All of his friends were utterly hopeless). 

“I’m not pining, ” Hat Guy ignored Tighnari, loudly clearing his throat. “That’s for people who lack confidence.” He directs a pointed look at his friend, who proceeds to mirror Scara and ignore him. 

“We’re not talking about me; we’re talking about you. I’m not letting you change the subject.” Tighnari then grabs Hat Guy’s hand because it never fails to make the man more honest. He wasn’t sure what the science behind it was, but his friend needed honesty more than anything, especially from himself. “You told me that you’ve finally accepted the fact that you think Sethos is attractive. What do you want to do about that, if anything at all? I really think you should want to do something about that, though, because, as Madam Faruzan said, it’s tiring watching you yearn from the sidelines like this. I just want the best for you, you know.” Hat Guy stares at him the way he does sometimes, like he’s seeing Tighnari for the first time. It seemed to happen without rhyme or reason, and Tighnari had yet to understand why it happened at all. His friend’s eyes would go wide, and his mouth would fall open a bit, and sometimes, he wouldn’t even blink. Tighnari wanted desperately to know what he would do to earn such looks, but whenever he would ask, his friend would shake his head and continue like it hadn’t happened at all. He wonders just what his friend had been through that made him capable of making that face in the first place.

Hat Guy looks at Tighnari, then he looks down at their conjoined hands and heaves a tired sigh. “I don’t know what I want to do.” His voice is quiet, like the words hurt to say, and it’s so unlike him that it makes Tighnari squeeze his friend’s hand tight, the same way his heart squeezes in his chest. The forest ranger had expected this answer, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear, and it had to be so much harder to say for someone like Hat Guy. 

“Well, worry not because we’re here to help you.” Faruzan chimes in, and her voice holds none of the same loftiness it usually did. Hat Guy looks over at her, and his face cycles through a few different emotions, ranging from his usual annoyance around her (which had begun to die down as she continued sitting with them) to surprise. However, that one was gone as soon as Tighnari spotted it. 

“She’s right. You know I wouldn’t leave you here to wallow sadly in your emotions. You do that enough, anyway.” There’s a laugh from Faruzan, and Hat Guy is right back to glaring at him, which he ignores as easily as ever. “In fact, I think I have a plan that can help you determine what you want, aside from just Sethos himself.” Hat Guy’s eyes narrow, looking dubious. 

“I don’t think I’m going to like this plan.” 

Tighnari waves away his concerns. “Trust me, it will be fine.” 

It was, in fact, not fine, Scara decides the moment he walks into Tighnari's house in Gandharva Ville a week later and spots Sethos chattering away with a young girl, the one he assumes to be Collei, given the way Tighnari talked about her. He walks into the house and immediately wants to walk back out, but that wretched General Mahamatra spots him before he can escape, and Scara is grabbed by the wrist and dragged to sit down next to Sethos, whose face lights up when he sees him. It was all very much in a short time, and he will be pulling Tighnari’s tail the second they get a moment alone (Cyno would not appreciate seeing his friend’s tail getting tugged, and he would definitely make Scara’s life harder by seeking him out for TCG matches more often). 

“Hat Guy!” Sethos exclaims, and Scara still isn’t able to pretend to be wholly unaffected by it, his finger twitching as it was wont to do when Sethos was around. “I didn’t realize you’d be here. Why are you here?” Scara huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at Tighnari, who was turned away from him purposefully, he’s sure.

“I question the same thing. It’s that forest ranger’s fault.” He points a thumb at the man, whose tail swishes behind him tellingly. Sethos chuckles, and Scara hears Collei giggle with him. He wanted to be annoyed with them for it. 

“I assume he told you something without telling you the whole thing? Master Tighnari does that sometimes.” The girl’s voice is light with amusement, and it, terribly enough, reminded him of Nahida when she would laugh at him for something or the other. Many things reminded him of Nahida, and Scara wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

Turning to face the girl, he narrows his eyes at her curiously, and the girl flinches, stiffening. It wasn’t his intent, but this girl seemed like she could get startled by a leaf falling next to her. Perhaps there would be no getting rid of the mean look his face tended to take on without him noticing. “You’re saying he does this often?” 

The girl nods slowly. “Well, it honestly depends on what it is. He doesn’t withhold information if for a serious situation, but if he’s trying to ‘help,’” she puts up air quotes, and Sethos snorts. “Someone, he’ll withhold information he thinks will deter the person from something. When I asked to accompany General Cyno on his trip back to the city once, he forgot to tell me about his terrible jokes, and I was forced to listen to them the whole way there.” She then leans in conspiratorially. “I haven’t asked to accompany him since then.” At this, Sethos laughs, a loud ‘Ha!’ from the stomach, and Scara crosses his arms to hide the way he wants to clench his hands. 

“You know I can hear you, right Collei?” Tighnari calls out to them, and the girl rubs the back of her neck sheepishly. 

“Sorry, Master. It is true, though…” She trails off, and Tighnari chuckles, making her sigh with relief. 

“I know, but you don’t need to tell him all my secrets. He won’t agree to go anywhere with me after this.”

“Damn right, I won’t. I don’t know why I ever trusted you to begin with. This isn’t the first time you’ve tricked me like this, so I clearly haven’t learned my lesson.” Tighnari laughs again, louder this time, and he slows in the stirring motion he was doing in a pot of something simmering over a fire. The forest ranger was doing most of the cooking, though his matra friend was hovering next to him, eyes moving between Tighnari and the others with a ridiculous amount of fondness, something that didn’t decrease even as he looked at Scara. The realization makes him feel lightheaded, somehow. It felt like another visit to Nahida to check his internal systems, even though she told him everything was running fine when he last asked her about them in regards to the twitching he’d been doing (which only started when he met Sethos, might he add). She had told him that it was normal and nothing to be worried about. When he tried to argue that it hadn’t felt normal, she had just smiled at him, and he realized that she’d read his mind again, had seen everything that led up to the moment. When he’d realized, he immediately frowned and began repeating one word over and over again, a rather unsavory one, to deter her from doing it again. He knew it worked when she winced, then sighed and apologized for the intrusion of privacy. 

“When was the first time he tricked you like that?” Sethos asks him, and it makes Scara flinch for some reason. When he looks at the desert dweller – who is looking back with intrigue – memories of the rain pouring down on him and Sethos, water seeping under shirts and into places Scara wished he could follow, and scorching gazes stealing his breath from him flash in his mind. He swallows, feeling suddenly suffocated like a fire had spread under his skin and begun to burn him from the inside out. Sethos tilted his head, raising an eyebrow as he leaned in curiously. “Hat Guy? Are you okay? You’re looking a bit red there…” Scara blinks, his eyes going wide as he brings a hand up to his face. It felt incredibly warm, like he had just stuck his head into a fire without realizing it. Maybe the fire under Tighnari’s pot was much closer than he initially realized. How was Cyno so close to it without burning like this? It had to be all that time he spent under the overbearing sun with his skin uncovered that had conditioned him to high heat. And Sethos lived in the desert, hence his unaffectedness. Perhaps Collei and Tighnari had grown used to the heat of the fire in their home, which would explain why Scara was the only one affected by it. 

Luckily, he’s saved from answering by Tighnari placing the pot down on the table in front of them. It was steaming, and the smell wafting from it wasn’t unpleasant, even if Scara felt no urge to eat. “Dinner is ready.” The forest ranger announces, taking a seat next to Collei, Cyno following and sitting next to him. They eat, and Scara will never admit that he actually enjoyed it. He also won’t admit that, at one point, he got a bit sidetracked by the way Sethos had wiped his mouth (everyone noticed, anyway). Archons, he wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. 

Once dinner was done, Scara found himself pulled into playing TCG with Cyno, against his will, let it be known (he had begun carrying around the deck of cards with him in case the General managed to catch him unaware, an occurrence that was happening more and more often. He truly was growing weak). As expected, he lost (Sethos was behind him, arms propped up on the back of his chair, leaning down close enough to where his breath ghosted Scara’s neck, and it was an absolute given that he was going to lose because who could focus under these conditions?), and both Cyno and Scara were getting fed up with each other. 

“Alright, Sethos,” Cyno starts, and Scara has a feeling that he won’t like what the General is about to say. “I think your absence is required if I wish to have an actual match against Hat Guy.” He declares, and the fact that it had even gotten to this point makes Scara want to shrivel up inside. “He’s messing up more than usual with you around today.” Sethos stands up straight, and Scara finally feels like he can relax his shoulders. 

“I still don’t understand what I’m doing that’s distracting him so badly! Besides, I thought he was getting better. Hat Guy, what’s going on?” The relief Scara feels becomes short-lived as Sethos resumes the pose he had earlier, though this time his face is closer, so close that Scara thinks he could count each of Sethos’ eyelashes if he wanted to (did he want to?) Sethos is looking at Scara with genuine confusion, which in turn bewilders him because wasn’t the desert dweller doing this intentionally? Scara was steadily losing his mind. 

“It’s…” He pauses, attempting to sort through the jumbled words filling his mind. “You’re too close.” Is the only coherent sentence he manages to come up with, and it’s mortifying, saying it out loud and hearing himself say it. Sethos blinks at him, taken aback. Then he leans away, looking…hurt? Scara immediately wants to take it back.

“Sorry about that. Forgot you like your personal space.” The words aren’t filled with bitterness like Scara would expect from an expression like the one Sethos made, but somehow, that made Scara feel worse. Why was Sethos upset? Why won’t he show it to him? And why did Scara care so much? He could only rationalize it by thinking that perhaps these worries came with wanting to be…‘close’ to someone. It made sense, considering he sometimes felt the same about Tighnari, though not at all to the same degree.

In comparison to his past self, Scara was nowhere near as vicious as he used to be, though it was not because he was no longer capable of it. On some level, perhaps he cared just a little about upsetting his forest ranger friend, further than just having to deal with the repercussions. He would never say so to Tignari, never to his face, and not if he could help it. 

“Cyno, I think Hat Guy needs a break from your antics. This game is doing neither of you any good right now.” Tighnari comes up behind the General, who frowns and crosses his arms. 

“He’s had a break. A week’s worth, in fact. That should have been ample enough time to prepare himself for a battle he knew was coming.” 

“Actually, he didn’t know it was coming, remember? I told him it would just be me and Collei on purpose. I knew he wouldn’t agree otherwise.” Cyno raises an eyebrow.

“What, so Sethos and I are dealbreakers for him?” 

“Yes.” Scara chimes in here bluntly. “You are impossibly annoying, and your brother–” he pauses, unsure of what to say here because Sethos was someone whose feelings actually mattered to him, as troublesome as that was, and he didn’t want to upset Sethos further. “He’s…a special case.” The wording makes him wince, but he doesn’t know how else to put it without revealing too much to the desert dweller, who is still standing behind him, even if he is no longer so close. 

Cyno scrutinizes him; eyes narrowed as they flickered between Sethos and him, then he lets out a sigh, leaning back against the chair. 

“Fine. We shall take a break. You should take this time to rethink your strategies, Hat Guy, and be ready for our next game in a few minutes.” Scara stands, rolling his eyes and making his way out of Tighnari’s hut. He’s not leaving to go back to the city, not yet, but Tighnari seems to think he is because he follows him out.

“Hey, wait, Hat Guy–” Tighnari starts, but Scara cuts him off, and before he can even really think about it, the words are tumbling out of his mouth. 

“It’s Scara.” It falls from his lips and floats between them, like a crystalfly on the verge of taking off, except these words couldn’t just fly away to be forgotten, as much as Scara wanted them to. Tighnari stares at him, brows furrowed. 

“What?” He asks with sincere confusion, and Scara balls his fists to keep them from shaking. With annoyance, he wanted to think. With fear, in all actuality.

“My name. It’s Scara. So you can quit calling me by that idiotic moniker.” He has to state this reason so it feels less like he was giving away a part of himself to be examined, to be held, to be kept . He has to give this excuse, so Tighnari didn’t know just how significant this decision was for him, so he didn’t know just how fragile he was. He felt like the forest ranger knew it anyway because his eyes softened, so gentle and kind and affectionate it made Scara tremble a bit, he couldn’t help it. When was the last time someone looked at him like that? It had to have been centuries ago, in the eyes of people long gone, when he held their hearts in his hands like he would break without them. Now, it is he who gives his heart away, if only a piece of it, but a piece nonetheless. He curses the human part of himself because it is the part that dares to hope not to be hurt again despite all of the tragedies he’s suffered. Only a mortal would be so foolish. 

“Scara,” Tighnari says, like he’s testing the name, how it feels on his tongue. It forces Scara to grip his arms just a bit harder to keep his trembling at bay. “I like it.” The forest ranger smiles, small but so full of fondness it makes Scara ache because what was he supposed to do with that? How does one even begin to think about dealing with such compassion? He never understood how mortals did it, loving with their full heart, not when it was exactly what he was discarded for. Not when it persisted in being the bane of his existence, the root of all his problems. 

Scara swallows thickly, trying to regain his ability to speak, but his efforts are in vain because Tighnari grabs his hand and squeezes it gently. He rubs his thumb over Scara’s skin, and it’s like there’s a fire where their hands meet because he feels like he’s burning again, except this time, it doesn’t consume him, not in the same way Sethos’ eyes do. This time, it feels more like he’s regaining feeling back into his hands after being cold for so long, and the fire is just a smidge too warm, but the return of sensation is just too addictive to let go of. So, he doesn’t. He lets himself hold his friend’s hand, and he tries, for the first time in a long time, to smile a happy smile. 

A week after the dinner, Scara is surprised to find that he still has yet to regret his decision, even after Tighnari finds him in the Grand Bazaar and calls out his name for everyone to hear. No, he’s too wrapped up in the fact that he heard it in the first place. It’s not like he forgot, it's just that he hadn’t expected to hear it so soon (and said with just as much affection as the first time). He’s also distracted by Sethos being next to the forest ranger as he says it, and the look of confusion that passes over his face is almost comical, even if Scara doesn’t know why it was there. 

“There you are, Scara. We were looking all around the Akademiya for you but couldn’t find you anywhere. Sethos asked around, and apparently, nobody had seen you there today. Are you skipping out on your studies again?” Tighnari and Sethos make their way to where he stands, at the same jewelry stall he and Sethos had visited the last time they were there together, where he had finally opened his eyes to the feelings that had been moving restlessly inside him, the start of an even more insufferable situation. Now, rather than just being unable to look away from Sethos, much of his mind that wasn’t taken up by missions and displeasing memories became consumed by the man, and he couldn’t seem to go anywhere without his eyes automatically searching the crowd for the familiar crown of curls and that brightly colored scarf. At times like these, Scara wished he could have remained ignorant of his emotions because this was much more unbearable.

“Don’t make it sound as though I’m a child. I’m fully capable of handling myself, and you know this.” He then sighs, lifting his hands to display the stack of papers contained in them. “I delivering these documents to the people they’re meant for, courtesy of Lesser Lord Kusanali, so if you have any complaints of me ‘skipping out on my studies,’ take them up with her.” The forest ranger rolls his eyes. “Now, what do you need, because as you can clearly see, I’m actually busy this time.”

“Is that to say you weren’t busy all those other times?” Scara narrows his eyes at him, regretting not thinking his word choice through. They both knew that he tended to exaggerate at times, but Tighnari loved to hear him admit to things, and Scara was severely averse to it. It was a constant game of tug-o-war for them, one Scara didn’t mind if he let himself think about it. Which he often didn’t.

“What are you here for? You’re wasting my time.” Tighnari’s smile grows with his triumph. 

“We’re here because we wanted to invite you to eat with us. You look like you need a break.” The forest ranger elbows Sethos, who blinks like he’s coming out of a daze. Scara has strictly avoided looking at him, knowing that once he did, he might not look away. Now that he has to, he proves himself right, and when his eyes land on the desert dweller, they enthusiastically take in the way the man looks somewhat windswept, his hair pushed back from his face in a way that emphasizes his strong jawline and still annoyingly full lips. His eyes, now free of their past cloudiness, were eerily clear, and they were analyzing Scara for everything he had, it felt like. That slightly burning sensation that was also becoming commonplace returned, and Scara’s fingertips felt a bit numb, though perhaps that could be attributed to the tight grip he kept on the papers.

“I’ll help you out with those deliveries if you want.” Scara opens his mouth to respond. “And yes, I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I know you won’t pay me for it, and I don’t want you to, I just want you to let me help you.” Scara shuts his mouth, huffing, and Sethos grins. 

“Fine. You put yourself up to this.” He hands half his stack to Sethos, who takes it easily and with a smile, though something about it was…off, somehow. Scara knew Sethos’ smiles, and this one didn’t feel right, it didn’t crease the corners of his eyes the way they usually did. The desert dweller wasn’t smiling with his heart like usual, and Scara was sure he was the cause of it somehow. 

He’s proven right when, as they’re delivering letters, Sethos leans into his space – something Scara could never find in himself to object to – wearing a thoughtful frown that didn’t spoil his features like it would others. If anything, it only emphasized the softness of his lips as they pressed against each other, and Scara, as loathe as he was to admit it, was utterly captivated. 

“Is Scara your real name?” Scara blinks, captivation broken, and his eyes find Sethos’, which are heavy with curiosity and maybe something a bit deeper. Scara can only nod slowly in response to it, to which Sethos looks away, and it feels like maybe Scara lost something. “I see.” It was too nonchalant a response, too simple.

“Why? Are you upset that I told Tighnari before you?” It’s a shot in the dark, and he’s not actually expecting Sethos to agree, but when the desert dweller nods his head easily, Scara’s eyes widen.

“Yeah, actually.” The honesty surprised him, but he wasn’t sure why. Sethos didn’t strike him as someone to lie often, not anymore, at least now that he was no longer in the throes of his denial. “Is there a reason you wouldn’t tell me? I thought we’ve moved past the whole ‘I’m hiding something’ thing.” Scara cringes to himself when he mentions it.

“We have, but Tighnari is different. Don’t you remember? You called him my friend.” When he says it, he hears Sethos’ voice in his head going, ‘Sure, you see him as an annoyance, but I can tell you also see him as a friend.’ The fact that Sethos had seen through him so easily was not lost on him, though at the time, it was overruled by the fact that Sethos was also aware of Cyno and Tighnari’s hopeless pining. Still, Scara is brought back to the present by the contorting of Sethos’ face, and he thinks he might have said the wrong thing somehow. 

“Are we not also friends?” His brow is furrowed, and his mouth is shaped into a smile, but it’s confused like it wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be there but appeared as a default anyway. He stares at Scara, waiting for an answer, and Scara stares back, unable to give it. It seems to be the wrong choice again because after a moment, something in Sethos’ face falls, and the smile on his face becomes a little more forced, though it isn’t at all obvious. The fact that Scara could tell in the first place had to mean…something. He wasn’t sure what yet. “Oh. I understand. Sorry, I guess I got a bit ahead of myself there, huh? Assuming we were friends like that.” His voice is hardly any different from the way it was before, if not slightly more melancholic, and Sethos is holding on to the papers in his hands like a violent gust of wind could come by at any moment and take them away. Perhaps he was the gust of wind Sethos was worried about. 

Scara doesn’t know how to tell him that Tighnari is different from him in the sense that Scara doesn’t think about the forest ranger at all in the same way he thinks about him. Scara doesn’t know how to tell him that there’s an ache, a want to be closer to him that isn’t present when he’s with Tighnari. Scara doesn’t know how to tell him that revealing his name to Tighnari felt like giving away a part of himself, and, if he were to be honest with himself, he’s entirely too terrified to do the same with him, even though he thinks it might have happened already, completely out of his control (if the theory that this was was a curse from the gods was to be believed). 

Scara doesn’t know how to speak, not around Sethos, so when Sethos turns away from him, still with that fake smile plastered on his face, Scara can do nothing to stop it.

After the papers have all been delivered, Tighnari, Scara, and Sethos make their way to Lambad’s Tavern, and things continue as normal. Tighnari and Scara make their usual snipes at each other that never really cut through skin, and Sethos occasionally joins in with words of his own, though they never matched the harshness of the words Scara and Tighnari threw at each other. His presence felt more like an outsider observing a conversation through a window, an apt but simultaneously unfortunate comparison, at least in Scara’s eyes. He wonders if Sethos may have seen another thing he wanted but thought he didn’t have in them. 

A week passes, and Scara doesn’t see Sethos at all during it. 

Before Sethos invited Scara to the Grand Bazaar, most of their meetings had been either coincidence or the work of Tighnari’s relentless meddling. Afterward, it was like a door opened for the desert dweller because Sethos had then made it a habit to intentionally visit Scara at least once a week (it usually ended up being more; being the two ‘errand boys’ of Sumeru made coincidental meetings all the more common). 

While most of their incidental meetings did still occur outside of the Akademiya, on any given day, Sethos would arrive at the House of Daena while Scara was studying, turn heads as he walked over to where Scara sat, place himself in a seat across from the puppet with happy greetings, and chatter about nothing in particular. Much like Tighnari, he didn’t need any verbal response from Scara to keep going, but unlike Tighnari, he didn’t include snide remarks that were sure to get him to respond anyway. 

Currently, it’s about halfway through the week when Scara realizes that he hasn’t seen Sethos at all. He’s working on an assignment a professor had given him (one he could have easily done later) when he realizes that it’s been entirely too quiet for entirely too long. He looks up from his assignment, expecting the desert dweller to be in front of him, and there’s no one there. Staring at the space for a few moments, he wrestles with the realization that he has gotten so used to Sethos’ presence that he has started to expect him. Then, he turns back to his paper, thinking that maybe the desert dweller was just busier than usual with Buer. He knew the man had meetings with the archon somewhat often and that they tended to drag on (he’s had to sit through more than he preferred). Maybe Sethos was too tired to even do any of his usual errands after these meetings. He was only human, after all, and it had to happen at some point. 

Then, the rest of the week passes by without a single hint of the desert dweller, and now Scara is feeling the dredges of irritation well within him. No, he didn’t go searching for the man, but he shouldn’t have to. They usually came across each other daily anyway, and he absolutely would not ask anyone about it. It had only been a week, and sure, it was slightly odd, but it wasn’t like Sethos owed him a weekly visit anyway. Scara was absolutely fine without his presence. 

Another week comes and goes, and maybe Scara is just a bit more irritated than necessary. 

His mind won’t stop going back to Sethos, and he hates how it bothers him, the suspicious lack of the desert dweller. It lingers with him for longer than he’d like when he is in the House of Daena, attempting to study but being unable to truly focus, or walking around the city, listening to the unimportant chatter of the people around him about mundane things and thinking about how he’d much rather hear Sethos talk about these things. Things that usually irked him were much more bearable when it was Sethos doing them. 

Archons, he’d been so distracted thinking about the desert dweller that, when it was time for his weekly TCG match with Cyno, he still lost, despite Sethos not physically being there. All because the thought of the man being there beside him plagued his mind like a curse, and he couldn’t get over the phantom feeling of Sethos’ hair brushing his arm or the memory of a scent like the sun that usually wafted from his being like an intoxicating aroma. At the very least, this loss wasn’t a catastrophic one, so the disappointed look Cyno gave him wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it usually was whenever Scara lost. Still, it grated on his nerves just a bit. 

By the time the third week came to pass, Scara felt like maybe he was losing his mind a little. 

He was most definitely being avoided, but he can’t figure out why , and it’s grinding his gears in the worst way possible. He dedicates about a fourth of his mind to his usual tasks of completing his schoolwork and the assignments given to him by Nahida, and the rest of his mind goes to theorizing where Sethos could have gone that made it possible for Scara not to have seen not even a glimpse of him. He’s found himself walking through the Akademiya multiple times during the week when he didn’t need to, wandered throughout the entirety of Sumeru City when it wasn’t necessary, and even made his way to Port Ormos, though that was more of an opportunity taken when he was given a mission from Nahida that took place there. He’d seen the desert dweller there a few times, talking it up with anyone who would let him and endearing himself — sometimes unintentionally, Scara thinks — to everyone he came across. As is typical for him, Scara let himself linger whenever he spotted the man, cataloging his every shift in expression, deliberate or not. 

On this most recent trip to Port Ormos, not only did Scara find no sign of the desert dweller, but he even caught a few remarks of ‘Where’s that errand boy when you need him?’ And ‘I’ve got half a mind to hire him as an employee, he’s just so useful.’  Truly, Sethos was too popular for his own good, how troublesome. 

Scara is sure that Tighnari knows of his turmoil, given the smug expression the man often took on whenever he caught his friend staring into the distance with clouded eyes. His raised eyebrow practically screamed, ‘Ask me for help,’  another thing Scara was strictly averse to, so he was stubborn in avoiding the topic entirely. He would rather lose ten TCG matches against Cyno in a row than ask his too-smart-for-his-own-good forest ranger friend for help, and Tighnari knew it. Another game of tug-o-war for them. 

Of course, Cyno was also aware of his struggles, if his penetrating gaze was anything to go by, but just like Tighnari, he refused to say a word if Scara didn’t ask him upfront, no matter how Scara tried to finagle bits and pieces of an answer out of him. The General would respond with vague words and even more vague waves of his hand, and Scara was absolutely positive the man knew that this way of answering utterly infuriated Scara to no end — he was probably doing it on purpose for that reason. He and Tighnari have been friends for years now, so it made sense that the forest ranger’s wretched ways would have rubbed off on him by now. Honestly, Scara wasn’t sure how he managed to make friends with such a lousy lot (ignoring the fact that he could have easily avoided it all if he wanted). 

Things fall into place for Scara when, as he’s making another restless trip around the Akademiya in search of anything that could be related to Sethos, he comes across a woman muttering something along the lines of ‘Oh, I should have taken Suhail up on his offer to go to the desert with that guide he found, it would have helped to see the stars in much better detail…’ . It piques his interest because he recalls Sethos at one point telling him that he took on the side job of escorting people through the desert in the plentiful free time he sometimes had. At the time, Scara hadn’t thought much of it, merely writing his tidbit of information off as Sethos being unable to stay in one place for too long unless either his mouth was moving or his legs were. 

Now, he berates himself thoroughly for not having thought of this possibility sooner. Sethos was probably on an expedition in the desert, serving as a guide and probably a guard as well. It would line up with the amount of time it’s taking him to return to the city; scholars of the Akademiya loved to take detours in the name of research despite usually having a deadline. 

He feels himself relax almost instinctively, his wound-up shoulders slumping down to their normal positions, and if he really needed to breathe, he’d be exhaling with relief. It’s so potent that he could have sat down where he stood, and when he realizes this, he immediately frowns at himself. Was he truly so far gone for this one man that he couldn't handle the thought of being avoided? This couldn't be normal, not even for a human. Surely, these feelings were being amplified by some unknown force out of his control. Whatever it was, he would have to worry about it later. Right now, with his mind at peace, he wanted to return to actually being able to focus on things rather than having half his mind on a man he really shouldn’t care so much about. He had other things he could be doing anyhow, so waiting for Sethos to return would be no problem. 

It’s what he finds himself repeating over and over like a mantra as he flies to the Sanctuary of Sursthana, still feeling oddly discontent. The words do nothing to soothe this peculiar ache that had settled in his chest somewhere in the second week of Sethos’ absence. At the time, he had easily ignored it, considering he had more important things to worry about (why was this desert dweller so good at disappearing?), but now, he finds that he can’t . It takes its place at the forefront of mind now, and it plagues him as he enters the sanctuary, where Nahida is standing, observing some sort of visual of the city. 

“Wanderer, you’ve returned.” She doesn’t turn around when she greets him, having heard his footsteps when he opened the door and probably hearing his thoughts even before that. “How was your walk? Did you find what you were looking for?” She had most definitely heard a few of his thoughts because he hadn’t told her he was searching for anything when he left. As he thinks this, he hears her giggle to herself, and his thoughts are confirmed. “I wasn’t reading them intentionally; they just happened to be very loud. They’re a bit hard to ignore when your thoughts are similar to the loud trill of a sitar.” Scara feels his eye twitch (he thought that was a one-time thing), and he exhales carefully. 

“Well then, invest in some noise-canceling headphones, like those your Scribe wears. I'm sure it would do you much good.” He huffs, not feeling as irritated as he sounded, for confusion still roiled within him. “And to answer your question, no, I didn't find what I was looking for. In fact, I feel as though I only found more problems.” Sighing, Scara makes his way to Nahida’s side, taking off his hat and letting his dangle precariously off his fingers. 

“Would you be alright with sharing them with me of your own accord? I promise I won’t listen to your thoughts for the duration of it.” She glances at him with her trademark gentle smile, and he stares at her for a few moments thoughtfully. Eventually, he sighs again in resignation, knowing that he is going to give in to her regardless. 

“As I’m sure you're aware, it has something to do with that maddening desert dweller you hold meetings with.” The archon nods.

“The one that, after meeting him, you came to me to make sure you weren't malfunctioning, yes? I hope you understand why that would happen now.” Damn her and her incessant need to remind him of things to prove a point. It wasn't like he had forgotten anyway, even if he wished he could. 

“Yes,” he manages to grit out from between clenched teeth. “The very same. He’s been plaguing me for quite a while now, only for him to up and disappear for the last three weeks, and it has caused me to feel…odd.” He pauses because this entire interaction feels odd to him, and he’s only just realized that he would have much rather had Nahida read his mind. Saying this out loud was much worse than he initially thought. 

Despite her earlier promise, it seems like she had listened to his thoughts anyway because she giggles again. “I can see your discomfort, but I hope you don’t let it discourage you from continuing to express your feelings to me. It’s good to say these things out loud so it doesn’t weigh on your mind, lest you become a floating hydroshroom unable to float because it’s weighed down by its own head.” Scara’s lips twitch with the urge to instinctively scowl, but he pushes it down at the last moment. He crosses his arms instead, looking away from her at the glowing hologram in front of them, saying nothing else. Nahida sighs, following Scara and returning her gaze to the visual in front of them as well. She fiddles with it for a bit, and they stand next to each other in silence. During this, Scara keeps his thoughts as quiet as possible, even though that ache never wavered. 

At some point, Scara turned to walk away from her, figuring he’d go on another walk in an attempt to rid himself of this ridiculous twinging he felt in his chest, but Nahida’s hand shot out and wrapped around his wrist, and she looks up at him pleadingly. He stops easily, turning back to her with a questioning look on his face, and she tugs on his wrist, urging him to stoop down a bit, so he does.

“Before you leave, Wanderer, I want to ask you one more thing.” Her grip on his wrist tightens, and he can tell she’s serious about this. The realization the dendro archon, presider over Sumeru, was serious about his should-be-trivial woes presses hard against where he thinks his ribcage would be if he were human. “Given what I heard from your tumultuous thoughts, I take it that it hasn’t yet crossed your mind that perhaps you just miss Sethos’ presence?” Scara’s eyes widen, and he simply stares at her for a moment. True to her assumption, the thought hadn’t crossed his mind, and it occurred to him, not for the first time, that everything about this situation frustrated him. Here he is, letting himself be wrapped in emotions sparked by a single human who really shouldn’t have meant anything to him at all when he should really be above it all. It was what his creator abandoned him for, after all.

He felt foolish beyond belief, and with the way Nahida was looking at him at that moment, he knew she could hear this, too. She doesn’t say anything yet, and he thanks her for it, though he masks it behind a few more harrowing thoughts, things like, ‘Maybe Sethos really is a curse sent down from the gods to punish me’ and ‘Will I feel this way forever?’ Neither were thoughts he particularly wanted to entertain, but it was better than letting himself drown in his frustration. 

“There’s a saying among humans that I think perfectly fits your situation, Wanderer, if you’ll allow me to tell you it.” Nahida then says suddenly, letting go of his wrist, and Scara wasn’t sure if he missed the feeling or was glad it was gone. He nods rather numbly, and she continues. “ ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder.’  A proverb created by one who longed for the presence of another that they could not get to. Is that not what this ache you currently feel is?” And how was he meant to answer that? How was he meant to know? He knows the feeling of missing someone intimately; it’s an innate part of himself at this point, and he even misses things he’s never known, but this felt different. Archons, the issue was that he shouldn’t have felt it at all, and perhaps that’s what was preventing him from accepting it in the first place. He can’t move past the thought that this was all ridiculous, this gnawing pain that he felt all from the lack of being in one person’s presence. It shouldn’t have happened, and with every moment that passes while he’s like this – in a hopeless state of pining – Scara starts to see more and more why Beelzebub abandoned him, for who would want a puppet like him, weakened by something as foolish as a useless yearning?

“Wanderer,” Nahida’s voice breaks through his musings, which he hadn’t even realized he’d descended so deep into. Another flaw in his creation, it seemed. “I am taking special care not to hear your thoughts at the moment, but I can see on your face that you have fallen into thoughts that will do you no good. You’re much more expressive than you realize, Scara.” She reaches a hand to him, seemingly with the intent to land on his face, just under his eye, but it pauses and hovers between them for a moment before falling, and she instead clutches her hands together in front of her chest. Her face twists with something that isn’t quite pity, maybe closer to understanding, and he hates that, even without reading his mind, she knows him well enough to know just what he’s thinking anyway. He hates that he seemed to have given away another part of himself to her without realizing it, or perhaps she took it when he wasn’t looking and held so close to herself that he couldn’t see it until now. He hates that he can’t hide things from her as well as he once could and hates that he can’t hide from her now because of it.  

“Wanderer,” she repeats, the name pushing against the barrier of his mind. He blinks, and it’s like he comes back to his physical self, the one crouching in front of the archon of wisdom and knowledge, sifting through everything he feels at that moment to find what made the most sense and latching onto it like it was all he had. “What you’re feeling is not a sign of weakness, Scara, and it’s not foolish to feel these things so intensely. Berating yourself for it will get you nowhere, so it’s better that you don’t.” She lifts her hands again, and this time, she follows through with her actions, placing them on his cheeks and holding his face as tenderly as he’d ever known. “If you can’t do it for your own sake, would you try for mine? It hurts to hear you think those things about yourself, and you know I care about you, Scara.” That he does; he’s known it for a while now, but it was another one of those things he refused to let himself truly acknowledge because he didn’t know what to do with such a revelation. It’s always been something he found hard to fathom, the fact that his creator couldn’t find it in her heart to love him, but the archon he attempted to dethrone managed to hold enough kindness in her heart for the both of them. 

He looks, and looks, and looks at her, looks in her, wanting to find where she kept such bottomless hope, and wondering if maybe he could take some for himself, that way, there would be a fair trade between them. A piece of himself in exchange for just a drop of her optimism. 

After a long while, he finds himself asking, “Is that an order?” And he’s joking, but only partially. She smiles because she knows, and it has a bit of a sad lilt to it. 

“It shouldn’t have to be, but if that’s what it takes to get you to be nicer to yourself, then yes.” She’s firm in this declaration, another indication that she’s genuine about this, and it was rare that Nahida wasn’t genuine about what she said. Scara often thought she was too earnest for her own good, and despite being the goddess of wisdom, she just felt so easy to take advantage of because of it. Sometimes, he let himself worry over her, as needless as that worry may be.

Placing his hat on the ground, he brings his hands up to his face and places them over Nahida’s, allowing himself to bask in the feeling of the warmth of her hand seeping into his naturally cold skin. He nods then, accepting her words, and he closes his eyes. He can’t see it, but he knows she’s smiling at him, and that makes this all the more worth it. 

Shortly after this, Scara makes his way to the desert. 

Having come to terms with the fact that he did just miss Sethos’ presence, he had quickly made his way back to the Akademiya, this time with a more fleshed-out plan in mind: find the woman who was talking about the guide from before, the one that had unintentionally reminded him of Sethos’ being a guide in the first place, and ask for more information. Not much time had passed since he left, and students tended to stay in the Akademiya late into the night anyhow. The sun was still up, so surely she had to be there still. 

He’s proven right when, upon walking in, he spots her relatively quickly. It was also here he realized he had heard of this woman before. A student of Rtawahist known for being constantly stressed and on the verge of passing out at all times. A bizarre reputation if he’d ever heard one, but it wasn’t like he could say much, considering he was somewhat the same in terms of having a reputation precede him. 

When he had approached her, he didn’t bother masking his footsteps, but she still failed to notice him right up until he tapped her shoulder, where she startled rather dramatically, in his opinion. When her eyes landed on him, they widened with what seemed to be a hint of fear. They hadn’t spoken to each other since the Interdarshan Championship, and she didn’t seem as keen on approaching him as Tighnari had. He had fought to keep the satisfaction that went through him at this from showing on his face. At least someone was afraid of him.

“Sorry for bothering you, but I heard you muttering earlier something about getting a guide to take a trip through the desert?” He had kept his voice light because, while he appreciated the healthy fear she seemed to have for him, being too afraid could lead to issues, and that was the exact opposite of what he needed at that moment. 

“Was I? Oh gosh, I hope I wasn’t bothering you…I have been meaning to be more conscious about my muttering when I’m studying…” She trails off, and he shakes his head.  

“That’s not the issue, don’t worry. I just wanted to ask about the trip to the desert your friend went on.” Layla blinks at him and doesn’t answer for a few seconds too long. It made Scara briefly wonder if he had said anything wrong. Then she straightens, eyes widening again with recognition. 

“Oh, you mean Suhail.” Scara nodded, uncaring of who it was. “Well, if you were trying to join that expedition, it already started a few weeks ago,” he nodded again, lining up this information with when Sethos’ disappearance started. “And they should be on their way back now, but if you’d like, I can let Suhail know that you want to join next time.” Scara resists a sigh, wanting this conversation to be over with sooner rather than later.

“No, that’s not necessary. I just wanted to know what guide he had found, if you remember.” 

Layla looks to the ceiling for a moment, squinting her eyes in thought. “I think his name was Sethos, but I’m not sure. I believe they were going to the Valley of Dahri, which is odd because people rarely ever go to the area due to the active Ruin Golem there, though I did hear that it was deactivated recently…maybe that’s why Suhail was so excited to go on this trip…” Scara ignores the rest of her unimportant mumblings, having the information he needs. He cuts her off with an abrupt ‘thanks’ and leaves without another word, leaving behind an apparently perpetually startled Layla.

It didn’t take long for him to reach the desert, using his manipulation over the wind to its maximum. Perhaps it was a bit of unfounded desperation that was pushing him so, but it was easier to get caught up in said desperation than it was to ignore it, and he figured he would leave the issue to a future Scara. Right now, like Nahida had said, like he knew , he just wanted to see Sethos’ face.

It takes him a few hours to reach the border of the desert, where he pauses for a moment to scan the land below him, figuring that the pair he was looking for probably hadn’t reached the edge of the desert yet, but maybe they were close. He wasn’t going to take any chances. 

When he doesn’t spot the familiar head of curls, he keeps going in the direction of the Valley of Dahri. It takes him another hour to spot them, resting at an oasis a distance away from the Ruin Golem. When he spots the pair, his eyes immediately latch onto the curly brunette hair he’d been longing to see for at least three weeks now, and he feels an uncomfortable feeling spreading across his skin, similar to when he’d feel Sethos watching him from somewhere. 

He sees Sethos, and it’s like something slots into place for him, like the tilt the world had at one point taken on had righted itself like that profound feeling of longing had dispersed as soon as the desert dweller came into view. He doesn’t get too close, not wanting to be seen just yet, choosing to instead settle on a cliff overlooking the oasis. His superior eyesight made it so that he didn’t have to worry about not seeing Sethos, who was in the process of setting up tents in time for the sinking sun. Scara watched for some time, feeling something akin to satiated by the sight of the muscle in Sethos’ arm flexing as he moved, and he definitely didn’t mind the shifting of the man’s back either.

Then he notices that Sethos only sets up a single tent, and that satiety disappears. He’s sharing a tent with this person? Someone he hardly knew? Sure, that wasn’t professional, even if the tent was on the bigger side. Though he doesn’t like this development, there isn’t much Scara can do about it if he wants to be able to spy— observe the two while remaining out of sight, so he can only frown harshly as he watches Sethos and the student interact. 

He’s forced to watch as, while Sethos is preparing food over a fire, the student settles down just a bit too close to the desert dweller for his liking, leaning closer to the fire and into the man’s space. There’s a large notebook in their hands, and they’re saying something, but Scara can’t hear it, too far away to even be able to parse any of their words, and Scara wonders if he could have his ears improved by Nahida later. The student looks to be rambling about something, and Sethos will occasionally glance over at the notebook they were hunched over, using the light from the fire to see and write things down now and then. Scara feels his eye twitch when, at one point, the student leans closer to Sethos, pointing at something in their notebook, and their shoulder presses against the desert dweller’s. Sethos is nodding along to whatever it is they’re saying, looking intent the way he always does, his gaze startlingly steady.

Scara decided to finally look at the Akademiya student, a young man – Suhail, Scara recalled – with an overly familiar disposition, it seemed, because he continued leaning into Sethos’ space. Not that the desert dweller minded, as overly familiar as he could be. Suhail would point at something, and Sethos would nod and sometimes even add something himself, keeping half a mind on the meat roasting over the fire, presumably from a scorpion they most likely encountered, seeing as the desert was littered with them. 

He watches them, and he feels like something is curdling in his stomach with the way discomfort settles on his skin once more. He feels his brow furrow harshly as he watches that fitful longing he thought he’d gotten rid of coming back once again, and Scara was sick of it. At least this time, he knows what it is that’s plaguing him; that need to be close to the desert dweller, the same one that’s been in him from the start, drums steadily in his ears, beats loud in his chest, thrums throughout his entire being. The last time he felt such an intense longing for something was when he was on the cusp of becoming a god, watching as the gnosis was stolen right before him. He hadn’t let himself want for something so badly before that, not after the death of those he cared about most and the consequences that came with caring about them in the first place. 

He wasn’t satisfied just seeing Sethos’ face, and a part of him knew it from the start. He wanted to feel him, wanted to feel the heat of the desert dweller next to him, wanted to feel the man’s hair brushing against his skin, wanted to feel their shoulders bumping against each other. He wanted whatever Sethos would give him, and he was only aggravating this ache the longer he stayed here, watching the man from afar but unable to reveal himself. 

Making a decision, he stands, keeping himself away from the cliff’s edge to avoid being spotted, and he backs up. When he’s far enough away, he summons a burst of anemo energy and channels it beneath his feet, propelling him upwards before he uses it to push him away from Sethos.

Tighnari didn’t let him wallow in his emotions the way he wanted to, and neither did Nahida, who had immediately ordered him on more missions the moment he returned, mostly likely because she could read the pain on his face and wanted to help him take his mind off it. He appreciates her efforts, even if he’s not sure how well they worked.

The forest ranger, on the other hand, shows up at the Akademiya a few days later and forcefully drags Scara out of the building with the help of his ever-so-subservient General Mahamatra friend’. 

“You’re already in your own head too much, so I’m forcing you to come out of it for just a few hours. Surely you can handle that much.” His forest ranger friend is saying, his grip on Scara’s wrist firm as he pulls the puppet along. Cyno, on the other hand, while not physically touching him, was a steady presence at Scara’s other side, oozing energy that dared Scara to try and run away, something Scara didn’t feel very inclined to do. He’d been chased by the General before, and it was not a fun experience. A relentless dog, that man was, and Scara imagined he’d be even more so if Tighnari were to sic the General on him. Those two made such a dreadful duo, never mind the fact that these were the people he ‘chose’ to surround himself with. “We’re going to be meeting Kaveh and Alhaitham at Lambad’s Tavern, so try not to be so derisive. Can you manage that?” 

If Scara could roll his eyes any harder, they’d be out of his skull, so he settled for making a sound with his teeth; that way, Tighnari would know of his indignation even if he wasn’t looking. “What do you take me for, some kind of toddler unable to hold my tongue? Besides, if your friends can’t handle some sharp words, how are they even your friends? You know you’re worse than me sometimes.” 

“Though you might be right about my delivery, what matters is intent. When I’m being ‘harsh,’” he puts up quotation marks using fingers from his free hand. “It’s usually from a place of kindness. When you’re harsh, you do it because you want to. Or maybe you don’t know how else to be.” Scara is taken aback by this last bit, and Tighnari glances at him, but only very briefly. Scara isn’t sure how to read the look in his eyes, so he looks away from them. “My point is, not all the comments you make are necessary.” He doesn’t say anything more, and Scara doesn’t need him to. For now, he’ll let himself be pulled along for the sake of his friend.

“Fine.” He concedes, and as was now common for him, the smile Tighnari sends him makes it more worth it.

“So, Tighnari was telling us about your situation,” The architect says as soon as he sits down, and Scara rethinks whether or not Tighnari's smile was really worth the humiliation he’s sure he’s about to go through. “And we’re happy you’re letting us take your mind off it.” He offers a compassionate smile that Scara really doesn’t need but isn’t actually too bothered by, somehow. 

“I’m not ‘letting’ you do anything. I was forced by that irksome forest ranger.” He starts, pointing at Tighnari, who then clears his throat warningly, and Scara huffs. “But, I suppose your efforts are…appreciated.” 

“Oh, it’s really no problem. I’m always happy to help a friend of Tighnari’s. Now, he tells me that you’re in love with Sethos, is that right? I mean, I kind of felt there was something between you two that night you met when you beat Cyno that first time, but to be honest, it’s still a bit hard to fathom, even hearing it from Tighnari, who isn’t prone to lying.” Scara raises an eyebrow. 

“Is that what you think? Then I suppose he’s a better actor than I thought.” The architect’s brow furrows. 

“What do you mean?” His gaze flickers to Tighnari, whose ear twitches tellingly. “Tighnari, is he saying that you lie often?” 

The forest ranger sighs. “Don’t let him get to you. He’s just saying things to spark controversy. Though, I will admit when it comes to him, I am prone to withholding the truth. Don’t get me wrong; I only ever do it with his best interest in mind because he would never allow himself the help he needs if it weren’t for me being the friend I am.” 

“I would have fared perfectly fine on my own, thank you. I do not need the assistance of a forest ranger who’s suffering from the same thing I am when he clearly can’t even help himself!” And maybe he’s said a bit too much because everyone turns their gaze to Tighnari, whose ears flatten against his head with irritation. Cyno frowns, leaning toward the forest ranger with concern clear in his posture.

“Tighnari, is that true? Are you sick? Why haven’t you told me? How long have you had this illness?” He throws out his barrage of questions, and the architect looks like he’s two steps away from doing the same when Tighnari throws his hands up. 

“I’m not sick , you all, he’s just being an idiot. Besides, we’re focusing on the fact that he can’t seem to confess his feelings for Sethos right now, not me. I promise I would have told you all if I were sick with something, so you can stop looking at me like I’m two seconds away from collapsing, Cyno. I already told you I haven’t eaten any odd mushrooms this week, which, by the way, I still haven’t gotten back at you for telling him that, Scara. You have no idea how hard you’ve made my life.” Tighnari points an accusatory finger at him, and Scara doesn’t bother hiding his snort at this.

“That was the goal, forest ranger.” He leans back in his seat, satisfied. 

“Wait, Cyno, you didn’t know?” The architect chimes in, looking at the General confusedly. Cyno, clearly, is not happy with this information, his brow furrowing so harshly that Scara was sure he had to have a headache from it.

“Was I the only one he failed to inform?” He asks and is met with a round of nods. In response to this, he sighs, leaning back in his chair, expressing his discontent in the tense set of his shoulders. Tighnari puts a hand on his shoulder, and it succeeds in getting him to relax, but only slightly.

“Moving on from all that,” the architect turns back to him, leaning forward with intent. “How do you feel about accent colors in a home?” The man beside him lets out a huff, and Scara couldn’t tell if it was amusement or annoyance. 

“This again, Kaveh?” He drawls, and Kaveh whips his head toward him with a quickness, eyes on fire. 

“This is very important! I can’t go on letting you think that it’s okay to have two clearly clashing colors as your accents!” 

“I don’t know why you care so much; it’s not as though you’re paying for the house.” 

“That might be true, but can’t I at least make it a bit more palatable to the eye? Besides, I can pay for the furniture myself. I’ve been doing rather well with my spending recently.” He puffs up his chest a bit, and the Scribe’s lips quirked up into what could be interpreted as a smile, but Scara didn’t know the man well enough to be sure. Tighnari seemed to think so as well, for he watched them with exasperated but fondness in his eyes, and Cyno watched him with nothing but affection. Suddenly, Scara is hit with the horrible realization that he was sixth wheeling the two not-couples, and a sinking feeling forms in his stomach.

“Since you four seem so wrapped up in each other, I will be taking my leave now.” He stands, thinking he’ll most likely go back to the sanctuary to wallow in his feelings the way he meant to, but Tighnari stands with him, grabbing his hand with a frantic look. 

“You can’t!” This makes everyone look at him confusedly. Or at least, it makes Kaveh do so, though his expression quickly changes to one of realization after a moment, and he too is reaching out to Scara, this hand stops just before it makes contact. Alhaitham’s face doesn’t change, as stoic as the man is, and Cyno seems like he’s been in the know the entire time. Being left out infuriates Scara more than anything, he turns his gaze on Tighnari. 

“And why not? Are you planning something again? Is this another trap, forest ranger?” He half expects Sethos to appear out of nowhere because he was the core of the last few traps Scara fell for. The shifty way his friend avoids his gaze tells him everything he needs to know, and he almost wrenches his hand out of Tighnari’s grip. “What is this time?” He spits, his frustration growing, and the forest ranger turns pleading.

“Please, just stay for a bit longer. I really do want to help you, and I promise it will be worth it. Besides, the last two surprises weren’t all that bad now, were they? Despite how much you like to exaggerate it.” Scara stares him down for a few long seconds, and Tighnari stares back. Then, Scara relents, as he’s been doing often lately, and he tries not to think of himself as weak for it. 

“Alright, but only because I’m sure you would have made Cyno chase me if I tried to leave.” Tighnari exhaled amusedly, even though Scara wasn’t joking, and Kaveh muffled a laugh behind his palm.

“You describe me as if I were a dog.” Cyno remarks, and Scara hardly glances at him, waving the comment away.

“Perhaps because you behave like one.” He responds with no small amount of derision, though he makes sure it’s more of the lighthearted kind, and he can tell Cyno knows the difference because he does something similar to smiling, eyes glittering. 

“I suppose I’ll allow that, but just once. Now, sit back down; he should be here soon.” This catches Scara’s attention, and the smirk he was beginning to form abruptly slides off his face.

“Who?” He turns back to Tighnari, who goes right back to avoiding his gaze. Another feeling curls in his stomach as his suspicions rise once more.

“Hey there, everyone, sorry I’m a bit late.” A startlingly familiar voice says, and Scara feels himself freeze. His eyes widen, and he’s stuck staring at Tighnari, who looks at a point behind him, a relieved smile forming on his face. 

“Sethos, there you are. I was starting to get a bit worried.” Tighnari’s eyes flicker to Scara’s for a second before moving back. 

“Yeah, sorry about that. I got caught in a bit of a crowd on the way here. Seems like people missed me more than I expected.” Scara feels his finger twitch, and Tighnari glances at him again. 

“You could say that. Some might have missed you more than others, though,” the forest ranger says, nudging Scara, and it’s what makes him feel like he can move again. He forces himself to turn, and he’s met with Sethos looking back at him, all sunlight and sand, and smiles. He looks at Sethos, and his eyes drink in the sight of the man the way they couldn’t when he was in the desert. They take in the way the man looks slightly windswept, hair settled away from his face and giving more attention to the fullness of his lips or the curve of his eyes and eyelashes. Scara felt he could count and would count if he were given the time. His mouth might’ve fallen open slightly; he’s not sure, but it didn’t matter at that moment. Nothing seemed to, except for the way Sethos’ eyes roamed his body, just very briefly. They’re back on his face in a blink, but the fact that it happened at all makes Scara feel lightheaded. He wants to feel Sethos so very badly and just barely stops himself from reaching out.

He gathers himself together enough to say “Sethos,” but his voice stops there, so he nods slightly in place of it. 

“S…Hat Guy.” He starts saying Scara’s name and cuts himself off immediately, but it makes Scara realize just how badly he wants Sethos to say his name. It’s a new ache, a fire more like, and one that’s so intense it nearly consumes him. Heat roils passionately under his skin. “It’s been a minute, huh? Did you miss me?” It’s a question that’s spoken with a lighthearted air, but it pins Scara and wraps vines around his feet, rooting him where he stood. He can’t stay silent because that’d be giving away his every secret, but there’s a chance of them being told anyway, considering the fact that, if he opens his mouth, there’s a possibility of everything he’s wanted to say for weeks now erupting from him because the words have long since wrapped around his lungs and held them tight. 

Lucky for him, Cyno chose that moment to speak, breaking the two of them out of whatever spell they’d fallen under when they locked eyes. 

“Sethos, it’s good to see you again. How was your trip?” The General stands and greets his brother with a hug, and Scara suddenly feels out of place. He sits down swiftly, tearing his eyes away from Sethos to look at the table in front of him. 

“It went smoothly. No mishaps or serious trouble during it. I think I overpacked a bit, but it’s better to be over-prepared than underprepared.” Cyno nods, returning to his seat next to Tighnari, who had sat down just a moment ago. Sethos takes the seat next to him, and Scara feels the awkward urge to both tense up and relax at the desert dweller being so close to him after what felt like so long. He lets the familiar body heat wash over him, feeling himself exhale quietly, eyelashes fluttering a bit. He feels his ache subside slightly, but it doesn’t completely fade, and Scara suddenly thinks that Tighnari’s analogy about Sethos being the last drop of water in a desert is rather accurate.

He’s so distracted with basking in Sethos’ presence that it takes him a moment to realize that not once has Sethos touched him. He wasn’t leaning into Scara’s space like he usually would, and not one strand of Sethos’ hair had even brushed his skin. It makes him feel itchy, this realization and an entire conversation passes before him without him noticing because he’s too busy trying to keep himself from leaning toward Sethos the way he wants to.

“Scara, are you still with us? You haven’t said a word since Sethos sat down.” Tighnari calls to him, lightly pinching Scara’s arm and bringing him back to the world in front of him and not the one in his mind. 

“I’m here; I just felt no need to engage in what feels like a needless conversation to me.” He glares halfheartedly at his friend, who responds with a roll of his eyes.

“It’s only needless if you choose to view it as such. Besides, not all conversation needs a purpose. Can’t we just enjoy each other’s presence without there being some sort of ulterior motive?” 

Scara narrows his eyes at him. “That’s a waste of time.” 

“No, it isn’t, and you know this. There isn’t always a point whenever we talk, is there? Or whenever you and Cyno have your TCG matches? Or what about whenever you let Sethos catch you in a conversation in the middle of the street while you’re working?” The man beside him, having previously been engaged in a conversation with Kaveh about the architectural characteristics of desert structures, tilts his head when he hears his name being mentioned. He doesn’t say anything, but Scara can tell he’s listening nonetheless. “Are those wastes of time to you? Because you never seem to truly complain about them.” 

Scara hates when Tighnari gets like this, saying these things so easily, like it hasn’t taken Scara months just to accept the fact that they were friends in the first place. He finds it hard not to revert to his old thought process of ‘whatever doesn’t serve me is useless’ and finds it hard to find joy in the small things. Nahida has told him that it helps to remain in the present rather than dwelling in the past like they both know he does and Tighnari holds his hand and says, ‘I care about you’ with genuine concern dripping from his voice. Cyno brings out the part of him that he thought died with his dreams of becoming a god with his firm declarations of ‘I will triumph over you in this battle of Genius Invokation TCG!’, and Sethos makes him yearn for things he sometimes still thinks he doesn’t deserve. Sethos makes him want to remember how to smile without it turning into a sneer, makes him want to be able to speak without his words turning harsh, and makes him want to remember what it’s like to love and be loved. 

When he next opens his mouth, he knows what he will default to, and he closes it again to make a conscious effort to keep from it. “You’re right,” he manages to say after what feels like a long time. “I do enjoy our conversations. You know I do.” It’s the most unnatural thing he felt he’s ever said, but he told Nahida he would be better to himself and intends to uphold his word to her. 

Tighnari’s face softens, and his tail starts to move where he’s holding it in his lap. His shoulders relax, and he grabs Scara’s hand. Like every time before it, the warmth of his hand seeps through his gloves and flows into Scara’s, spreading from his palm to his fingertips and up his arm. Tighnari’s smile will always be worth it to him. 

Things continue, and daylight slowly turns into evening, which steadily approaches night, and Scara feels himself start to drown again. Sethos is doing his utmost to keep himself from even grazing Scara, and it is driving the puppet up a wall. 

The final straw for him is when, while trying to get a bit of extra salt for his shawarma wrap, he does his absolute best not to touch Scara by going so far as bending his arm in a bit of an awkward way rather than asking Scara to pass it to him and risk their hands touching. Seeing it makes his gut curdle and he stands abruptly, causing everyone to look at him.

“Sethos and I are going outside for a bit.” He declares.

“We are?” The desert dweller asks, and at the withering glare Scara sends him, his eyes widen, and he quickly amends his statement. “I mean–yeah. We are.” He stands, too, and Scara starts walking away, expecting Sethos to follow. “We’ll be back soon…I think.” Scara hears him say, and he almost lets it lessen his irritation. He walks out of the tavern, Sethos scurrying behind him. 

Once outside, he gets down the steps and makes a sharp turn, leading them away from where people would see them. He needed it to be him and Sethos alone.

“Sc…Hat Guy, where are we going?” Sethos questions when they’re far enough away, and Scara turns on him. 

“Quit calling me that!” He knows his outburst confused the desert dweller immensely, but he can’t stand how the label sounds when Sethos says it now. 

“Well, what else am I supposed to call you?”

“My name, maybe? You know it, do you not?” 

“Yeah, but I thought that was reserved only for people you’re friends with.” This gives Scara pause.

“What?” He asks with genuine bewilderment, and Sethos looks away from him.

“You only told your name to Tighnari because he’s your friend, right?” There’s something more to his voice that Scara knows he’s missing. 

“That’s true, but I never said that you couldn’t also call me by it.”

“But I’m not your friend, am I?” His words take Scara by surprise, and the discontent settled within them confuses him further. 

“…Sethos, what are you talking about?” Sethos doesn’t look at him when he sighs tiredly, and it hurts Scara as much as it irritates him. Just what was he missing that was making Sethos so upset? He hated seeing Sethos upset. 

“Back at the Grand Bazaar, before I left on my trip, you told me that the reason you Tighnari your real name was because you were friends.” Scara nods, remembering the confused look on his face when he’d said so, and he remembers his own confusion following it. “When I asked you if we were also friends, you didn’t answer. You just…stared at me, all wide-eyed and perplexed, so I took that as a no. I mean, usually, that’s what that means.” Pieces of a puzzle Scara didn’t know he had to solve came together for him, and it all began to make sense. “Sorry about my behavior, by the way. I’ve been meaning to apologize for acting so chummy with you this whole time, but I had a job in the desert that was coming up and couldn’t find you before I left, so I figured I’d do it when I got back.” Sethos rubs at his arm awkwardly, and Scara just gapes at him, utterly silent. 

“Is that why you’re acting so…odd?” He says after a long moment of staring at the man, during which Sethos has begun fidgeting, looking unsure of himself. When Scara says this, Sethos pauses in the shuffling he is doing on his feet to look at Scara with a furrowed brow.

“Odd? What do you mean?” He sounds genuinely confused, and Scara is frustrated by it. Was it not intentional, the way the desert dweller wouldn’t touch him?

“I’m talking about the fact that you’re invading my space the way you usually do. Is the notion of us not being friends really what caused you to become so…distant?” He wants to add ‘how foolish’ at the end of his question but feels that he might be saying the wrong thing again, and the last thing he wants to do is drive Sethos away again. 

Sethos stares at Scara like he’s grown a second head, blinking owlishly at him. “You say that as though you didn’t like the fact that I’m giving you your space back. Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

“I can’t seem to recall ever saying that. Is your memory failing you again?” He tries for a joke, and it only half lands, with Sethos chuckling before his face falls again.

“You didn’t have to say it out loud; it’s obvious from your behavior. I mean, I’d have to be an idiot to not read your body language as wanting to be left alone.” Scara resists actually calling him an idiot, positive that at this moment, Sethos wouldn’t take too kindly to it. Not that any of Scara’s harsh words ever affected him before. 

“Then why is it that you’re choosing now to distance yourself? Why didn’t you do so before if it was so clear to you that I wanted to be left alone?” Sethos shrugs rather lamely, not at all an answer. 

“I don’t know. I guess…I thought that, with enough time, I’d be able to get past that tough exterior of yours. Figured that, since Tighnari was able to do it, I could do it too, and I really want to get to know you, but you’ve been resistant this entire time, and I know when I should back away from something.” Then Sethos pauses, and he looks away from Scara, seeming guilty. “No, that’s a lie. I planned on trying again after some time had passed, but now that I’ve told you, it probably won’t work, huh?” He looks up at Scara again, but his head is tilted downward slightly, and he’s looking at Scara through his eyelashes almost bashfully. Scara is so abruptly overcome with the urge to grab the man’s face that he starts lifting his hands before he even realizes it, but he manages to catch himself just in time. He instead crosses his arms, clutching tight to his forearms as a placeholder. 

“You truly are just as foolish as the rest of them.” He huffs at Sethos’ affronted and slightly confused look and completely abandons his restraint, grabbing Sethos’ face the way he’s wanted to for so long and smashing their lips together. 

Sethos’ lips are soft, just as Scara had imagined so many times in his mind, and they're warm against his. Scara presses harder against them, moving his lips slightly, and it startles Sethos into action, who kisses back with such intensity that it makes Scara learn what it means to melt. 

Sethos kisses him the same he sometimes stares, heated and heavy. He pushes Scara until he’s pressed against a wall, biting at his bottom lip and taking Scara’s gasp as the opportunity to deepen the kiss, groaning in a way that makes Scara feel like he’s quite literally short-circuiting, an all-consuming fire burning him until he’s nothing more than a bundle of sensations. He slides his hands from Sethos’ face to his shoulders, clutching tightly for some form of stability because, apparently, he never knew what it was like to truly fly until now. 

Sethos kisses him like it’s the only thing he wants to do, and Scara agrees, feeling that he could do this forever and be completely okay with it. Unfortunately, Sethos is a human, and humans need air to breathe, so when he pulls away, Scara chases him, stopped by Sethos’ huffed laughter. Then Scara opens his eyes (when did he even close them?) and is met with Sethos staring at him again, eyes swallowing him whole. He feels breathless from it, still an odd feeling to him. It’s so reminiscent of that incident in the rain that Scara has the passing thought, ‘Am I hallucinating?’ He quickly dismisses it, though, because puppets couldn’t hallucinate. Probably. Hopefully, otherwise, Scara would revolt against Celestia himself if this all turned out to be just one of his more vivid imaginings. 

They breathed against each other for some time, Sethos watching him for the entirety of it and Scara watching him back. When the desert dweller regains his breath, he grins, eyes glittering happily. 

“So I guess this means you didn’t mind me acting so friendly with you.” Scara is abruptly broken out of the daze he’d fallen into. “In fact, you wanted me to be more than friendly with you. Guess my persistence paid off.” He looks so pleased with himself that Scara wants to kiss him again, so he does, and Sethos lets him know how much he doesn’t mind this by eagerly reciprocating. 

Tighnari looks between the two of them suspiciously when they return to the tavern, eyes narrowed. 

When Scara sits down, he doesn’t even look at Tighnari, his face carefully blank. The forest ranger scrutinizes him, and he knows Scara is aware of it because his eyebrow twitches tellingly. Sethos, on the other hand, shows no sign of being any different, and he’s always been harder to read than Scara. Tighnari stares at him, too, and Sethos merely grins at him, the same as usual. 

“So…” He starts, realizing that everyone had gone silent when the pair came back to the table. “How was your…walk?” Sethos opens his mouth to respond, but before he can say anything, Scara sends him a glare, and his mouth snaps shut.

“It was fine,” Scara responds curtly, keeping his eyes averted from the forest ranger. Tighnari squints harder, then turns his gaze back to Sethos, suddenly noticing that his scarf is higher than it usually is, and he squints at that, too. Sethos, feeling his stare, clears his throat loudly and readjusts it, pulling it higher. 

“Is that so?” He questions. Next to him, Cyno leans close to him to get a better look at what Tighnari is seeing, and Tighnari knows he’s about to say something entirely too direct, so he elbows the man before he gets a chance. 

“Look, I’m not here to be stared at, so if that’s all you plan to do, then I really will be taking my leave now.” It’s something of an empty threat, further confirmed by the fact that, when he stands, he casts a glance at Sethos. The desert dweller looks back up at him pleadingly, making no move to stand. From where Tighnari sits, he can see that Sethos has grabbed one of Scara’s hands, holding it mostly out of view. Not another moment passes before Scara sits down again, sighing exasperatedly. 

He sits down and closes his eyes, and nobody says a word because everyone knows what just happened, and they also know that if they bring it up, Scara really will leave, and that’s not something they wanted when it took so much to get him here in the first place. 

“If any of you say a damned word about this, I will murder you.” Another partially empty threat, but everyone decides to take pity on him and finally look away, starting up the conversation again.

Still, Tighnari notices that, for the rest of the dinner, Sethos holds Scara’s hand, and he feels an overwhelming relief at the sight, letting a small smile linger on his face. Hopefully, his friend was finally happy.

“So I’m assuming those two finally figured things out?” Faruzan says later when she comes across Tighnari again in the Akademiya. Scara is also there, but he’s so wrapped up in listening to Sethos ramble on about the desert that the two might as well be alone. 

“I sure hope so. Maybe people will finally stop asking me questions about Hat Guy when they see these two together,” Layla says from next to Faruzan. “Ever since he asked me about going to the desert last week, I’ve had people constantly approaching me asking about it. It’s really started to get in the way of my studies, and I’m already behind enough as it is.” She yawns, swaying on her feet so much that Faruzan grabs her arm to steady her. 

Tighnari’s brow furrows at this, and he turns a questioning look on the Rtawahist student. “Wait, he asked you about a trip to the desert last week? Why?” Scara didn’t even like the desert, a trait they shared, so it was odd for Scara to be asking about going there, especially since he could go by himself. Tighnari knew that he was more than capable.

Layla just shrugged, eyelashes fluttering sleepily, and Tighnari was beginning to get a bit worried about her because surely his kind of drowsiness wasn’t normal. “I’m pretty sure it’s because he was looking for Sethos. He had asked about the guide my friend found to take him in the desert but didn’t seem too interested in going on an expedition himself. I could be wrong, though. I was pretty tired when he approached me, so maybe I read his expression wrong…” She yawns again, tears springing to the corner of her eyes, and maybe Tighnari would look into finding some plants that would help her sleep better. 

Then he starts putting the pieces together; Scara did look like he was rather upset when Tighnari came to him to drag him out of the Akademiya, but it wasn’t anger from not knowing like it was just a few days before then. In fact, Scara seemed sad , and that wasn’t an emotion he usually let himself show. 

“So he asked you about going to the desert because he wanted to know where Sethos was. That explains why he never asked me about it.” He puts a hand to his chin, looking away from Scara and Sethos, who were apparently so caught up in their own world that neither of them was listening to the current topic of conversation. 

“I’m pretty sure he actually went to the desert, too. I mean, Hat Guy can fly, right? My friend says he thought he saw someone flying near where he and Sethos were, but I didn’t pay much attention to him at the time because I was really stressed about finishing my thesis on time.” This new information shocks both Tighnari and Faruzan, with the latter tilting her head. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Faruzan waves her hands frantically. “So you’re saying that Hat Guy made the trip to the desert? To find Sethos? Why would he do that?” Tighnari thinks he might have an inkling, but Layla just shrugs.

“I don’t know, but there have been rumors going around about Sethos and Hat Guy being close for a while now, and that was the first time Hat Guy approached me after the Interdarshan Championship. It’s easy to assume that the two were connected.” 

“Is that why you hope that people seeing the two of them together would get them to stop approaching you about Scara?” Tighnari asks, his tail swinging behind him. “In fact, what do these people even ask you about?” His interest was piqued because he hadn’t ever heard about something like this happening. Sure, Scara can be rather guarded, but were people really so curious that they took to asking anyone who interacted with him? And if that’s the case, why had they never asked him? 

“Oh, you know, just things like ‘What did Hat Guy say to you?’ And ‘ Did it have anything to do with that errand boy? Do you know what’s going on with them?’ It’s been really bothersome, so I hope that seeing them together will clear up enough rumors to make people stop bothering me.” She sighs, twisting the bangles on her wrist, and now Tighnari knows why he was never approached about this. He’s made it well known that he wasn’t the biggest fan of gossip (his friend group excluded because Tighnari just loved informing Kaveh about the progression of Scara’s love life when he could; who else was he supposed to talk to when his friend was being particularly ridiculous?)

Not even a foot away from the group, Sethos and Scara sit, with Scara’s fists curled tightly into a ball because he can hear them talking about him, why on Teyvat were they talking about this so openly? He would have interrupted their conversation the moment it started, but Sethos had grabbed his hand, lightly rubbing his thumb over Scara’s wrist, and the move paralyzed him. He knew it was on purpose, too, but he couldn’t do a thing to stop it, feeling the tenderness of Sethos’ touch washing over him like a warm blanket. 

“Did you really go looking for me in the desert?” The desert dweller leans closer to him, their foreheads nearly touching, and Scara wonders if this was on purpose as well because he was heavily distracted by the brightness of Sethos’ eyes and how much he wanted to kiss him. That is until he registers the words being spoken to him, to which he abruptly pulls back, embarrassment washing over him. 

“That—” he stutters, unsure of how to defend himself, and Sethos’ keen smile grows. Scara wanted to kiss it straight off his face, but he couldn’t do that, not now, where everyone could see. He’d never recover. 

“You really did miss me, huh?” Another stroke of his thumb accompanies the words, making Scara repress a shiver, and Archons he loved it when Sethos touched him. “It’s okay because I missed you too. Even if I was trying not to.” His smile turns more vulnerable, and Scara is hit with just how much he loves this man and all of his smiles, words, and expressions. It fills him to the brim of his very being, and he thinks he might genuinely explode if he doesn’t do anything, so just this once, he sets aside his inhibitions and kisses Sethos. He hears a gasp from somewhere, probably another Akademiya student, but he can’t find it in himself to mind when Sethos is kissing him back, responding with equal fervor. Things mattered less when he was with Sethos, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.