accidentally yours | claude de alger obelia

feelings she refuses to name

the lesson stumbled on after that, but evie barely heard a word of it. her face burned, her mind chasing itself in useless circles.

she shouldn't have meddled. she knew that.

but seeing him sitting there, pale and hungover, still somehow carrying himself like the whole world should bow at his feet - something about it just itched at her. clawed at something under her ribs.

stupid. so stupid.

she focused on grinding herbs, letting the rough stone of the mortar scrape against her palms, letting the familiar work ground her.

and yet - every time she dared glance up, he was already looking at her.

silent. watching. unreadable.

later - when the lesson ended and athanasia skipped off with elias to inspect the flower beds - evie stayed behind, cleaning up the table. maerin had already wandered off to yell at a delivery boy who apparently "looked like he couldn't tell a daisy from a deathbloom," so the little clearing was almost empty.

almost.

"miss eldore."

the voice behind her stopped her cold.

evie turned slowly.

claude stood a few paces away, hands loose at his sides, expression blank - too blank.

for a moment, neither of them spoke.

then he stepped closer. just a little.

the distance between them seemed to shrink with it.

evie tightened her grip on the tray in her hands, willing herself not to bolt.

"your majesty," she said, polite, even.

his eyes - sharp, glinting - raked over her face. she felt the heat of it. the weight.

"you," he said, voice low, "are reckless."

evie swallowed.

"you are foolish," he said, taking another slow step forward.

she straightened her spine. "-thank you for your constructive feedback, your majesty."

he ignored her.
"you act without thinking. you overstep. you insult."

evie forced a tight, mocking smile onto her face.
"and yet you're still standing here," she said, voice too soft, too daring.

his mouth tightened. something flickered in his gaze - something too fast, too raw.

then, before she could think, before she could stop herself-

"-you're infuriating," he said, almost under his breath.

the words hit her harder than they should have.

something ugly and aching twisted in her chest.

"i didn't ask you to like me," she said, sharper than she meant to.

he stepped closer again - now they were barely a foot apart.

evie could smell him - the faint scent of alcohol still lingering, yes, but also something colder, sharper. something entirely him.

for a second, for the briefest second, it felt like the world shrank down to just this: the early morning air between them, the weight of his gaze, the wild, stupid thudding of her own heart.

claude's hand lifted - almost - then stilled in the air between them.

as if he had wanted to reach for her.
as if he was stopping himself.