[𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃] 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 | 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦

𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜.

❝ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ?❞

╰──➤ TIME FOR SIBLINGS

Ajax closed the front door behind him as he entered the house and scanned the area to see if you were around. He tiptoed toward the kitchen and poked his head through the doorway, seeing no one present. He released a sigh of relief, but it was too soon.

"Finally home, I see."

He yelped in surprise and spun around to see you near the staircase, "Oh! Y/n... We need to talk."

Your expression softened into one of guilt, "Yeah, I know."

Without another word, you both sat on opposite ends of the sofa. There was a fleeting silence before you spoke again.

"I'm really sorry," you breathed. "I shouldn't have called you a burden, or been so harsh..."

"Well, your delivery could've been a bit nicer, but you were kinda right..." He chuckled bitterly. "I know I haven't been the most reliable... Or just reliable at all. I don't want you to see me as a burden, and I'm sorry I've made everything so hard for you."

He exhaled before continuing, "I found a new job at Yae Publishing House."

You raised your brows and turned your head to look at him, "Really? That was a little quick, wasn't it...?"

He shrugged, "They were severely understaffed, so it didn't take much. Besides, the position doesn't require too much experience."

"That's great," you gave him a relieved smile. "I have just enough money to keep us good for another month."

He scooted closer to you and you noticed an envelope sticking out from his pocket. He twisted his body toward you and raised his hand, placing it on your head and giving you a reassuring smile.

"We'll be okay, I'll make sure of it."

Your eyes widened, and your expression quickly morphed into one of skepticism. Noticing this, his smile dimmed slightly, but you gave him a nod. As in: 'this is your last chance'.

Meanwhile, Scaramouche furrowed his brows as the brightened laptop screen illuminated his face within the darkness of his bedroom. Bags piled under his eyes to showcase his lack of sleep, and he could almost feel them weighing down his eyelids, but he refused to rest until he finally clicked sign up.

He'd filled out a form for the Teyvat Artist Awards. Though he already completed his own and submitted it, he now had the job of finishing yours. He was hesitant, doing this without your permission, and his mouse had been hovering over the button for at least twenty minutes. He refrained from calling you since it was late; plus, he wanted it to be somewhat of a surprise.

Finally, he pressed down and the application was submitted, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief as the burden of anxiety lifted from his chest.

"God, I'm tired," he mumbled to himself until his head jerked in the direction of the door at the sound of a soft knocking.