Archive of Our Own

As far as schemes go, it's not Claude's best work, leaving the roommate search to Leonie and Lorenz.

It doesn't really occur to him to question its effectiveness until about two weeks into the search, when Raphael is all but moved out. Raphael lifts the last stack of boxes into the back of his truck. He makes it look effortless. With the vehicle loaded up, Raphael throws Claude his copy of the house keys. "You sure you don't want my help finding a replacement?"

"Nah, Lorenz says he'll take care of everything. And Leonie's helping him."

"You're letting Lorenz do the vetting?" Raphael asks him incredulously. 

Claude shrugs. "I don't see the point in getting in the way. He's always been the pickiest."

Raphael looks like he might say something about that, but settles for, "Well, good luck with that. See you on game night."

"Tell Bernadetta I said hi."

At the mention his girlfriend's name, Raphael breaks into a wide grin. It's the kind of happiness Claude absolutely cannot relate to. "Yeah, I will. We'll both be there, by the way. Hope you find a new roommate by then."

Leonie shows up with groceries shortly after Raphael leaves. She wilts when she realizes she missed him. 

"It's not like you'll never see him again," Claude reminds her, shuttling groceries from her beat-up, old truck into the refrigerator. 

"Yeah, but," she sighs, gesturing upstairs to Raphael's empty room, "end of an era, you know?" Raphael has been Leonie's favorite gym partner for years. She could never hope to match him on weights, not that anyone could. Her passion has always been for mixed martial arts, anyway. It's a hobby that has come in handy more than a few times during her work as a bartender. 

"So," Claude decides he's curious after all, shutting the refrigerator door, "how's the searching going?" 

Leonie pops open a bag of chips, flopping onto the well-worn sofa. Leonie's just in time for her favorite survival reality show. "It's going."

Claude watches her from the breakfast nook. "Have you found anyone yet?"

Leonie glances over her shoulder at him. "I reached out to my old MMA group. Lorenz took care of the ads."

Claude sets down his glass of water with a little more force than necessary. "Have you actually seen the ads?"

"Haven't gotten around to it," Leonie says breezily, popping a fistful of chips into her open mouth. "I'm sure they're not that bad."

As soon as the words leave her mouth, they both make eye contact with each other and scramble to their phones. Leonie finds it first. Claude yanks the phone from her. Instead of a perfectly reasonable request for a roommate, they find a laundry list of increasingly absurd rules that both of them don't even adhere to, as much as Lorenz would love them to.

"Did he really say no coffee drinkers?" Leonie groans, slumping into sofa. "I know he hates the smell, but--"

"Don't even get me started on the hygiene rules," Claude interjects. "I'd be surprised if anyone actually responds to this ad."

"We need to ask him about it tonight," Leonie says, "or, well, you do. I'll be at work."

Claude grimaces, not looking forward the inevitable bickering. "Yeah, I'll ask him."

Claude is ultimately saved from having to broach the topic with Lorenz when he receives a text from Leonie shortly after she leaves for work.

'My old coach got in touch with me about the room! Sounds like he knows someone who's interested. We CAN'T say no. I owe Jeralt big time!'

Claude raises an eyebrow. 'Fine with me. Lorenz?'

The reply is instantaneous.

'Fuck Lorenz.'

Claude snorts, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

As expected, Lorenz makes a huge fuss as soon as Leonie tells him take down the online ads. 

"How short-sighted! We can't simply assume this total stranger--"

"She's Jeralt's daughter," Leonie cuts in, arms crossed. "I've trained with her before, too. She's not a stranger."

Claude silently sips his drink, watching them both over the rim of the glass. 

"Does she even meet the criteria?" Lorenz sniffs.

 
"She's a human being, Lorenz," Leonie snaps, "not cattle! You can't just go around demanding people to meet your ridiculous expectations!"

"Leonie, if someone didn't have expectations in this house, we'd be living in absolute squalor what with all those hooligans you insist on spending your time with."

Leonie bristles at the mention of her friends from the bar. "How dare--"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Claude interjects, trying to placate them both before Leonie throws down and wipes the floor with Lorenz's perfectly symmetrical face. Sometimes, he really wonders how he got himself stuck between two roommates on wildly opposite sides of the personality spectrum. "Let's not get carried away. C'mon, shouldn't we be above character attacks by now?" 

They both turn to glare at him. 

"How about we decide what to do about the search after we've interviewed this person? Byleth, was it? Can we agree to that? If one of us doesn't like her for valid reasons, we'll continue the search. How's that?"

Lorenz's jaw tightens as he considers the compromise.

Leonie nods. "That sounds like a plan. I'm game if you are." They both gaze at Lorenz. 

Finally, he sweeps his long, silky hair behind his shoulder. "I suppose that will be acceptable."

Claude gets to interview her for the vacancy first. Byleth arrives on the doorstep of their house at the appointed time, dressed head to toe in black despite the blazing summer heat. Her crop top is short-sleeved, with a tasteful and slightly revealing horizontal slit across the tops of her breasts. She's dressed in those spandex shorts that Leonie likes to wear to the gym and a pair of simple black sneakers. She's very attractive, with wavy dark hair and eyes the same color. If anything, her outfit only draws attention to her unbelievably fit physique. Her arms and legs are scarred from fighting, and they're corded in muscle, more so than Leonie's. Byleth's crop top exposes abs so chiseled he could probably grind his teeth on them. Frankly, she looks like she belongs in a video game.

Her dark blue eyes study him  with clinical precision. He suddenly feels self-conscious beneath her unblinking gaze. He's not beautiful, not like her, but he's aware of his charm and reasonably good looks.

"Hi, I'm Claude. You must be Byleth, right?" He extends a hand to her, but she doesn't take it immediately.

Finally, as if she's remembering something, she takes his hand and gives it a firm shake. Claude realizes with a jolt she could easily crush his fingers, with a grip that strong. He gingerly slides it back into his pocket when she releases it. She still hasn't said a word, so Claude fills the silence. "Welcome to the house. Do you want a tour?"

"That's not necessary," she replies, her voice inflectionless. "But if you insist, please lead the way."

Claude gestures inside and she follows after him. Their front door opens into a narrow hallway that leads to a large living room and kitchen. Lorenz spent the morning cleaning like his life depended on it, so now the countertops sparkle and there's not a trace of dust anywhere. 

"Bottom floor's the common area. There's a guest bathroom right past the living room, and right next to it is the door to the garage. Laundry machine is in the garage too. Usually Lorenz and Leonie park in there, but we can sort something out. Do you have a car?"

Byleth shakes her head. "I take the light rail."

"Oh, me too. Alright, let's take things upstairs." 

They ascend the staircase to the second floor. He gestures to his room in the far right corner first. He's closed to the door to spare Byleth the horror of looking at his private mess. "That's my room. Across from me, that's Lorenz. Men's bathroom will be right next to your room, and the women's bathroom is right next to Leonie." Byleth pokes her head curiously into the bathroom she'll be sharing with Leonie. It's fairly clean, if not cluttered. There's a shower stall that is separate from a bathtub. The sink is small, but there's a medicine cabinet for her to store her things should she need more space. Claude then takes her into the empty room. The wide window offers a glimpse of the street and a part of their modest backyard. There's a serviceable closet that Raphael used to have stuffed with all sorts of exercise equipment, but now empty, could hold a relatively large number of clothes and knickknacks. 

"So, what do you think?"

"I like it," she says, although nothing except the brightness in her eyes betrays the sentiment.

"Great, mind if I ask you some questions? Then you can talk to Lorenz. Leonie's sleeping right now, but I don't think she needs any convincing."

"I already talked to Leonie," Byleth tells him. "She had good things to say about this place."

Claude throws his hands behind his head. "Well, rent's pretty cheap for a place this nice and it's close to everything." They descend down the stairs, back to the kitchen. 

Claude offers her a drink, but she declines. "So, why are you looking to move? Did something happen to your last place?" He leans casually against the kitchen counter, watching her body language for clues. She's maddeningly good at hiding whatever she's thinking, even for someone as shrewd as Claude.

"I was offered a lead teaching position at the local college for the summer."

"You mean Derdriu College?" 

She nods. "That's right. I'll be teaching at Derdriu for the summer session before I go back to teaching full-time at Garreg Mach University in the fall."

Claude breaks into a grin. "Small world. We all went there for undergrad. You're a professor there?" He raises an eyebrow and whistles. "That's pretty impressive, Teach." Claude thinks she looks far too young to be professor, but then again, she could be a child genius. It's not like he knows much about her aside from what he's learned from Leonie.

Byleth looks puzzled at the use of a nickname, but doesn't remark on it. "I don't plan to be here much longer than the summer session. Will that be alright with you?"

Claude shrugs. "It's not that hard for us to find another roommate, especially with students flocking in when school starts up, so I'm sure it'll be fine."

"As for my old place, I've rented it out for the time being and plan to return when my time here is over."

Claude nods. "So your father is a famous MMA fighter, huh?"

"He's retired, but yes, he used to be quite famous."

"What about you? Do you...?"

Byleth's eyebrow lifts, almost imperceptibly. Claude thinks it might be her version of a smile. "It's just exercise to me. I prefer to teach."

Just exercise, huh? Claude thinks, surreptitiously eyeing her up and down again. She could snap him in half. "And what do you teach?"

"Combat modeling and war game strategy," she replies. "It's a pretty narrow field, but it's in high demand for defense organizations. And you?"

"Me?" He lets a lazy smile creep onto his face. "I'm not that interesting. I work at a big pharmaceutical company."

"Are you a pharmacist?"

"Chemist."

Her eyes light up with something akin to curiosity, but she doesn't voice it. He gets that a lot. His former classmates thought he'd end up as a lawyer or some corporate big-shot given his family background. But Claude prefers to tinker in the lab. He almost always has.

"And how do you know Leonie?"

"Garreg Mach archery club." He winks at her. "Took the gold every year I was there. Shame you missed it."

Byleth doesn't react at all to his flirting, which admittedly, doesn't happen to Claude often. "And Lorenz?"

"My family does business with his family. We also went to college together, and took a lot of similar classes. He can be uptight, but he's reliable."

Aside from her stoic demeanor, she seems like a perfectly reasonable candidate to him. Ultimately, however, the choice will be Lorenz's to make. He introduces them to each other when he's run out of questions, and holes up in his room, awaiting the verdict.

Some time later, later than he expects really, he hears the front door close and he pokes his head out his room. "Lorenz, how'd it go?" he yells down the stairs.

When Lorenz doesn't reply, Claude takes the stairs two at the time to go down to him. "Well, Lorenz?"

Lorenz looks up from a sheaf of papers, with dazed look on his face. "Leonie did not tell me she's Byleth Eisner. Why, she's one of our Alma mater's top professors! Do you know how much grant money she's been awarded for her research into ancient warfare strategy? I can't believe someone of her caliber would even bother to--"

"Stop it, Lorenz. You're embarrassing yourself. Are you cool with her being our roommate or not?"

Lorenz stares at him, affronted. "It would be my honor to have her as a roommate, for however brief a time that is. Please, for all our sakes, do not embarrass yourself in front of her, Claude. We have reputations to uphold."

"Couldn't you just use your clean-up magic if I do?" Claude quips, relieved to be done with the search.

"I'm a public relations professional, not your personal assistant." 

Lorenz insists on seeing to the paperwork himself after the interview. When Leonie wakes up for her shift, she high fives them both. Although, she has to yank Lorenz's hand out of his lap because he refuses to voluntarily participate in what he considers juvenile social mannerisms.

Byleth moves in a few days later, on a Sunday when they all have the day off. She has a desk, chair, and bed shipped to the house and put together by handymen, and shows up with a single suitcase later that afternoon.

"That's it?" Leonie asks, peeking her head out at the porch to see if she missed anything.

"I don't really need much," Byleth replies. 

"Oh, okay, well, let me know if you need help unpacking or anything."

"That's alright. Thank you for offering." When Byleth ascends the staircase, she almost bumps into Claude as he exits the bathroom. 

"Hey, Teach!" he greets her brightly. He has a green towel the same color as his eyes wrapped around his neck. His dark brown hair is dripping into it and he smells faintly of a forest in summer. 

"I'm not your teacher, Claude," she replies, angling the suitcase around him to squeeze past.

"Not a nickname person?" he calls after her.

She doesn't respond as she wheels the suitcase to her room. The only nickname she's ever gotten before this was the Ashen Demon, and it's not one to be proud of.

"I'm not much of a chef, but Lorenz and Claude can cook up some pretty delicious things. What are you in the mood for?" Leonie asks when Byleth comes down hours later, her room sorted.

Byleth blinks at Leonie in surprise. "In the mood for?" she echoes uncertainly. Byleth usually eats anything put in front of her. When at home in Garreg Mach, she cooks bland, unseasoned proteins and vegetables, much to the horror of anyone who has ever visited her. 

"Like, do you want pasta or curry? Claude can make a really mean roast--"

"Volunteering me for dinner duty again, huh?" Claude says from his spot on the couch. The towel is still hanging around his neck, although his hair is dry now. There's a stand of it that grazes his long brown eyelashes. His eyes flick back to the book he's reading.

"My stuff is too simple. You know all the fancy recipes," Leonie retorts.

"It's not fancy," he replies. "I just learned it from my dad."

Leonie looks Byleth in the eye, mouthing, "It's fancy." Lorenz appears from the garage, holding a basket of fresh laundry that gives off the scent of roses. Leonie flags him from the kitchen, much to his chagrin as he's juggling what looks like a particularly large load. "Lorenz makes stews that are to-die-for. He's also pretty good at making dessert tarts, if you can believe it."

"I wouldn't go that far," he splutters. "I'm sure the Professor here has a more discerning taste than..." Lorenz's voice becomes to quiet to catch as he ascends the stairs to the second floor.

Leonie turns back to Byleth. "Any of that sound appealing?"

Byleth chews her bottom lip, unsure of what to say. "Whatever is the easiest thing to make. I'm fine with anything, really. There's no need to come up with anything special on my account."

Leonie smiles. "It's a roommate welcome dinner! We did one with our last roommate, Raphael, too."

Byleth glances over at Claude, to see if he could get her out of having to decide on something to eat. He does end up helping her, but not in the way she's expecting.

"I volunteer Lorenz for making Daphnel stew. It's his specialty, and it's pretty quick. Teach and I can go buy the groceries."

"That sounds excellent! I can get started on the broth!" Leonie claps her hands together. She starts opening the refrigerator and cabinets to take stock of ingredients, jotting down things they'll need from the grocery store on a notepad that sits on the counter. When she's done, she tears off the sheet, folds it into a paper airplane, and launches it at Claude. It strikes him square in the face and he flinches. 

"Hey, watch the goods!" he exclaims, scrambling out of the couch.

Leonie snorts, looking at Byleth. "He thinks he's so good-looking, that one." She goes back to setting up a large pot on the stove.

Byleth pointedly refrains from saying anything as Claude snatches the scrap of paper off the ground. Her eyes flick away from the view of his ass before they can linger. 

"C'mon, Teach, the grocery store's within walking distance." He waves her over and she palms her non-existent pockets for a wallet. "Don't worry about it. I'll pay. Consider it a housewarming gift."

She nods, hurrying to follow as he swipes keys off the coffee table and heads out the door. It's sunset outside, and cooler than it was in the afternoon. It's comfortable enough in her shirt and shorts, but she thinks it might have been wise to bring a light jacket for the return trip.

"Wanna borrow this?" Claude holds up his black and yellow jacket. It's a stylish, sporty thing that might be name-brand, although Byleth's not familiar with those kinds of things. 

"Sure," she replies, slipping it on. The sleeves are too long for her hands, and the hem of the jacket goes past her butt. It smells just like him though, and Claude smells quite nice. She curls into the jacket reflexively. They walk in amicable silence. Claude seems to watch the sky as it turns blue. At one point, when the first few stars start to sparkle into view, he points up at one. The side of his lip quirks into a smile.

"That's the Fell Star. See it?"

Byleth glances up. Between all the red and orange hues, she can barely make out the stars. "Ah, no," she admits. 

He leans down, looking up from her angle, and then points, so close to her face she can feel his breath. "Right there, see it?"

Byleth nods, more to keep him from getting closer. "I think so."

"It's my favorite star," he says. 

"Then why aren't you an astronomer, or an astronaut?" 

Claude laughs, taken aback. "Not practical enough, I suppose. Just like to star-gaze occasionally." He glances back up. The light against his eyes is really quite something, she thinks, before drawing her gaze back in front of her.

They arrive at the grocery store after a while. True to his word, it's not far at all. It's smaller than the one she's used to back at her old university. Claude picks up a shopping basket, pulling the sheet of note paper out of his back pocket.

"Alright, we need some onions..." He steers them into the produce section. Byleth follows, but she's not sure why she's here when it's clearly a one-person job. The list is rather short. She supposes they must have a lot of what they need, like the spices, at the house.

"You look pensive, Teach."

"I'm just wondering why you wanted me to come with you."

"Didn't you want to know where your local grocery store was?"

"I could have used my phone for that."

Claude chuckles. "True enough. Better than having to do it alone, isn't it?"

Byleth is startled by the answer. "I guess so." She blinks down at her feet. "In that case, thank you for letting me come with you."

They round up all the ingredients pretty quickly. Byleth's used to the occasional stare when she's out. She's even been asked out a few times in a grocery store, but it's a wholly different experience when she's with someone. No one dares to approach her. Some couples smile at them, like they're part of some secret club. At one point, a bespectacled young woman with black hair surreptitiously seems to be following Byleth with her eyes. She quickly turns and disappears when Byleth tries to get a better look at her. Byleth turns a little pink. It's not unusual for her to catch another woman's attention either. 

"Damn, and I thought she was looking at me," Claude says with a roguish grin, his green eyes playful. 

"Are you done?" she replies, hopelessly deflecting.

He graciously allows her to. "Yep, got everything we need. Anything else you want while you're here?"

"Like what?"

Claude's mouth opens and then closes. "Do you want to grab any of your favorite snacks?"

"I don't have any favorites."

"Really?" He looks shocked, like she's just told him she's a killer part-time. 

"Really."

"You don't even have a favorite flavor?"

Byleth shrugs. "I don't think so."

Claude rakes a hand through his hair. The tendril of hair in his face doesn't stay back with the rest, and Byleth itches to do something about it. "Wow, okay." He gently pushes her toward the snack aisle. "We're fixing that."

When they arrive, Byleth is frankly paralyzed by the variety of choices. She doesn't even know where to begin, but Claude insists she pick something, even several somethings. He starts to select random things off the shelves, holding every item like a salesperson on a commercial. Byleth's lips twitch. The image is endearing.

"Chocolate bunnies crackers with star-shaped sprinkles, Teach," sings Claude, waving the box at her. "What do you think? Or what about these? Heart-shaped lemon tarts?"

"Claude," she almost laughs, shoving yet another box out of her face, "please, I can't decide."

Claude chuckles to himself. "Alright, executive decision then." He sweeps both into the shopping basket, and as they go down the aisle, pulls a few more off the shelf. "This one's a favorite of mine." Byleth makes sure to note that particular brand of spiced ginger snaps, although she's not sure why. They swing by the produce aisle again and Claude picks a few imported fruits that she's not familiar with. 

When they leave the grocery, their spoils heavy in their shopping bags, Byleth feels buoyant. 

Claude was right. Grocery shopping is more fun with someone. How strange.

"Thank you, Claude."

"Hm? What for?"

"This was fun."

"If you think grocery shopping is fun, then you're in a really good time at our house," he chuckles. "Wait til we do game night."

"What's that?"

"A bunch of our old friends come by the house and we just play a board game or something together. Everyone brings something to eat, kind of like a potluck."

"Like a potluck," she echoes, although she has no idea what it's like to go to one. She's never gone to anything remotely social, except for the occasional MMA class. And during those sessions, she doesn't socialize. She's usually too busy kicking ass.

"You can meet our old roommate there, Raphael. He's a nice guy, but he's a giant. He could probably give you a run for your money."

"Oh, I don't think so," Byleth says before she can help herself. She's not particularly competitive, but she's never lost a fight in her life. Not since she was a child, at least.

Claude glances back at her, a sly smile on his lips. "I didn't think you'd be the cocky type. I'm surprised, Teach."

Byleth averts her gaze. "It's not cocky if it's based on experience."

They reach the house before long. From the front door, Byleth can smell something cooking. It makes her mouth water. She's not used to coming home to such an aroma. It's not until Lorenz greets them that Byleth remembers she's wearing Claude's jacket. Lorenz's dark eyes slide from one person to the other, a pinched, somewhat suspicious expression on his face. Regardless, he says nothing about it. "Perfect timing. We've got the base broth just about ready."

Leonie and Lorenz hop back into the kitchen. Leonie seems content to do the prep work, while Lorenz mans the stove. Byleth shrugs off the jacket and lays it across the arm of the couch. Claude sinks into the sofa with a soft sigh, flipping the channel from Lorenz's favorite baking show to a forensic crime drama.

"Excuse me, Claude," Lorenz pipes up from the kitchen. 

Claude throws a smirk over his shoulder. "Shouldn't you be busy perfecting that stew, Lorenz? One false move and the whole thing could blow."

Lorenz quickly jerks his head back to the bubbling pot.

Byleth gingerly sits beside Claude, watching the characters on the screen reading out results from a centrifuge test done on the victim's blood. When the main character blurts out the name of a chemical, Claude snorts derisively. 

"What?" 

Claude quirks an eyebrow at her. "Oh," his face softens unexpectedly at her earnest curiosity, "they said it's ricin. Ricin can't kill that fast."

"What is that?"

"It's a poison, very lethal." Claude looks almost excited when he says it, like he could launch into an entire lecture about it, which is amusing to her. He seems to catch himself, leaning back. "Ah, don't want to bore you with the details."

"Oh, no, please. I'm very interested."

Claude smiles, that flash of excitement snuffed out. "Maybe some other time."

"I'll hold you to that," she says, and meaning it.

After the episode ends, Leonie calls them over to the dining table. Lorenz, in a purple chambray apron, carefully sets the pot of stew down in the center. The surface of the stew is still faintly bubbling from being fresh off the stove. A curl of steam rises and disappears into the air. It smells like nothing Byleth's ever had before. Lorenz pulls out a chair for her, and she thanks him before slipping into the seat. 

"This looks wonderful," Byleth tells him. "Thank you for cooking tonight."

"Please," Lorenz says brightly, clearly flattered, "it was only a trifle."

When Byleth has her first taste of the stew, she's stunned. It's savory, spicy and flavorful, something she'd expect in a high-end restaurant. Surrounded by her new roommates and good food, Byleth can't help but wonder what luck it was that she found this place.

Byleth soon gets used to her roommates' schedules. Leonie usually has Monday and Tuesday off, but works on the weekends, and usually from evening to early the next day. Because of that, they all see Leonie the least. When she's not working, she's usually at the gym with Raphael or at MMA class. Claude works a regular weekday nine to five, although he goes to work early and occasionally he doesn't get back from the office until quite late. Lorenz has a similar schedule to Claude's but due to the nature of his work, putting out professional disasters, he sometimes is scrambling in and out of the house at odd hours. When the summer session at Derdriu begins, she leaves the house early, sometimes riding the light rail with Claude, and stays until the afternoon when her lecture lets out. Depending on the kind of work to be done, she'll either stay in her classroom or go home.

A couple of weeks after her arrival, Claude overhears Byleth reciting something from her room as he leaves the bathroom next door to her. 

"In Imperial Year 1185, Ailell was the site of--" Byleth abruptly stops speaking from inside the room, and her bedroom door swings open. She's dressed in a casual black shirt and loose shorts, holding note cards in her hand.

Claude shoots her a grin. "Sorry, Teach, didn't mean to eavesdrop. Was just passing by." 

"I see," she says, and waves as he disappears back into his room.

Despite himself, Claude finds himself drawn for longer and longer stretches to her bedroom door when he hears her begin reciting her lectures. She obviously puts a lot of work into each one, and practices for hours on end, refining her speech and the details, in the privacy of her room. Some of the content he's already familiar with from his time in history class, or from gathering bits of national trivia, but most of it is new. Byleth has a way of delivering her lectures that is easy to understand, while providing a lot of information in a short time. There's a reason she's a top professor. Derdriu is lucky to have her, for however short a time it is.

A week into eavesdropping the first time, she catches him leaning outside her door, listening raptly, when she leaves the bedroom. She looks startled to see him there, and this time, he doesn't really have any excuse. 

"Can I help you, Claude?" she asks him, not exactly wary but definitely puzzled.

"Ah, you got me, Teach. I'm a student at heart, and well, your lectures are really something else. I like listening to them."

"In that case, would you like to come in and listen to them in full?"

Claude looks dumbstruck. "You'd really let me?"

"I'd appreciate your feedback," Byleth replies. 

"How can I say no?" he quips. She opens the door wider to let him in. Her bed is made, and her desk is clear except for note cards, pens, and a laptop. There is nothing on her walls, and he only sees black clothes peeking out of her half-shut closet door. It hardly looks lived in.

She gestures to the spartan chair beside her desk and then begins to recite her lecture. In person, Claude is surprised by the lack of gesturing or inflection in her voice, but it's something that matches her stoic demeanor. Regardless, it's what she says that matters, and what she says is always fascinating.

There are small things she notices about everyone in the house. For example, Lorenz always starts his mornings and ends his evenings with a fresh cup of brewed tea. He gets the leaves from a boutique across town, and seems to recognize each tea by fragrance as well as leaf shape. Lorenz is delighted when Byleth joins him for a cup, although she's not partial to any particular kind. Leonie likes to grab Claude for a round of archery at their local shooting range whenever she's particularly stressed by her work. When she's in a good mood, she offers to make cocktails for everyone--and she's masterful at it. Byleth isn't partial to drinking necessarily, but Leonie has a talent for figuring out what is palatable for each person. When she's in that kind of mood, even Lorenz, normally so tightly-wound, allows himself to get tipsy enough to need help getting into his bed. Claude never gets tipsy enough to need any kind of assistance, but Byleth notices that he seems to get flirty when he's had enough.

When Claude isn't reading something on the couch, or playing audience to her at-home lectures, he's usually holed up in his room. It's an unabashed mess in there. Books are stacked haphazardly on every available surface, including his bed. There are containers next to the window full of unusual herbs and mushrooms. On his desk, he has a stand that holds various vials of liquid labelled in his shorthand. Byleth only walks in there once, to ask him about one of the laundry settings, and abruptly stops talking as soon as she sees the chaos that is the living space of one Claude von Riegan. 

You live like this? Byleth can't help but think as he shuttles her back out.

But there's one thing--one very important thing--about Claude that Byleth does not notice in time.

It's an academic holiday, so she has the house to herself for a long spell. Byleth sees it in the refrigerator when she's looking for something cold to drink on a particularly warm summer day. She bypasses Leonie's precious cans of beer and Lorenz's freshly brewed iced tea to pull out a small opaque bottle labeled as a probiotic fruit drink. She sees this particular type of beverage in the refrigerator often, but no one ever seems to drink it. There's some writing in pen on the lid of the bottle, but it's not a character that she recognizes. 

Byleth opens the bottle and downs it in one gulp. It's refreshingly cold, just what she needed. However, the taste leaves something to be desired. It tastes almost like grass, but worse. She throws the container in the trash, and pours herself a glass of water to wash the taste off her tongue.

At first, she feels fine. But an hour or two later, she feels strange. There's a dull pain in her muscles, almost like's she sore from working out, although she hasn't done anything strenuous. Her mouth won't stop watering, and her heart starts racing.

It's Leonie, who comes home from a workout followed by a quick grocery run, that notices something wrong first. "Are you okay?"

Byleth shakes her head from the couch, pressing a hand to her temple. "I...I feel a little sick, that's all. I think I'll be fine."

Leonie arches an eyebrow at her as she puts away some strawberries. "Are you sure?" She pulls out a carton of milk, twists the cap open to sniff it, and grimaces. She dumps the foul liquid down the sink and throws the carton in the trash when suddenly, Leonie stills, eyes darting from the bottom of the trash can to Byleth.

"D-did you drink this?" Leonie yanks the probiotic bottle out of the garbage, her hand trembling. 

Byleth slurs an affirmative, and Leonie blanches. She starts cursing, much to Byleth's surprise and pulls out her phone. 

"Was I not supposed to?" Byleth tries to ask, but she's not sure if it's even intelligible from the way Leonie is staring her, phone squeezed to her ear.

"Claude?" Leonie's voice rises in panic. "Get back here right now." She paces the floor. "I mean NOW, Claude! Byleth drank whatever it is you've been working on! She looks really sick." There's yelling from the other end of the phone. "I don't know! Just get your ass over here!"

Leonie hangs up and hurries over to Byleth. "He's on his way, okay?"

Byleth vaguely remembers being carried into her room by someone who faintly smells of pine. They give her something that tastes syrupy sweet, almost saccharine in flavor. She doesn't have much time to think about it because moments later, she's vomiting into the bucket by her bedside. 

A soothing hand goes to her back, and someone repeatedly apologizes as she retches helplessly into the container in her hands. Finally, after what feels like ages of dry heaving, the person with her gently tips water onto her lips, begging her to drink. She tries to remember the last time she felt this sick, and nothing comes to mind. Her colds never feel this bad.

She sips on water until she can't stay conscious anymore. Her body feels so drained and tried. They help ease her into bed, placing a cool cloth on her forehead. It feels nice, a far cry from the way the rest of her feels. Before she slips into a troubled sleep, she feels fingers squeeze her hand.

When Byleth wakes up the next morning, she feels a lot better. She's starving. She gingerly slides up into seated position in her bed, only to notice with a start that Claude is sleeping in the chair next to her, his hand curled over hers. She stares at their hands for a long time. 

The bucket she remembers from yesterday is gone, and there's a deer-patterned face cloth sitting on the edge of her desk. Some alien feeling prevents her from slipping her hand out of Claude's. She uses her free hand to grab the glass of water on the desk and drain it.

Claude suddenly jolts awake, his hand jumping off hers. "Byleth! You're awake!" He sounds both terrified and relieved.

"Yes," she croaks, offering him what she hopes might be a smile. "Thank you for staying with me."

"I'm so sorry, Byleth. This is all my fault. I should have warned you." Claude looks beside himself.

She doesn't understand.

Claude's eyes flicker to the floor. "I...that thing you drank in the refrigerator. It's mine." He sighs, raking a hand through his hair as if he's not sure how to continue. "It's not for drinking."

"But--"

"I use that container since it's just the right size and--" His lips twitch, and he falters again. "Ah, what am I saying? I poisoned you."

Byleth stares at him, blinking very slowly. "What?"

"I just grew some hemlock, and it's an incredibly diluted solution--"

"You put hemlock in the fridge?" she utters in disbelief.

A hiss escapes between Claude's perfectly white teeth. "Sorry, yeah, that's about the gist of it." He scratches the back of his head, flustered.

"You poisoned me," she repeats flatly. She can take down half a dozen men in minutes bare-handed, but poison? She's never thought to arm herself against something like that. Byleth almost laughs at the absurdity. "Claude, you're very strange."

Claude stares at her, shocked at lilting tone she uses on him. "You're not mad?"

Byleth shrugs. "I survived, didn't I?" She starts to rise out of bed, but Claude anxiously stays her with a hand on her shoulder.

"You should take it easy, Teach."

She grimaces, obviously not in agreement. "I feel much better."

"You need to eat something," he insists. At his reminder, she feels the hollow ache in her stomach. 

"I'm very hungry."

Claude's lips quirk up. "Leave it to me. I'll make you breakfast, okay? Won't take long." He hurries out the room, not before shooting another reassuring smile over his shoulder at her.

The hollow ache in her stomach is replaced with something else.

He returns shortly with a breakfast tray balanced in one hand. There's a glass of orange juice, a plate of eggs mixed with thin slices of sausage, a square of buttered toast, and a cup of diced fruit on the side. She's a little surprised he got that together so quickly. She eagerly reaches for the tray, famished. Claude's lips lift into a smile when she hankers down.

Byleth can hardly speak between bites. "This is delicious, Claude."

He laughs, a little uneasily. "That's probably your hunger talking."

"No," she says, swallowing her bite of toast and fixing him with a stare, "I mean it. You're a wonderful cook." 

His cheeks turn a bit pink. "You flatter me, Teach. Cooking's just simple chemistry."

"So you don't just know about poisons, you also make them."

"Guilty."

"Why?"

Claude freezes for just a moment, before breaking into another deflecting grin. "Don't you find them fascinating?"

"Not enough to make them in my spare time," Byleth remarks dryly. "You promised me you'd tell me about ricin once."

"Ah, I did now, didn't it?" He gives her a wry grin. "It's probably not the best topic of conversation given what you've just been through."

"On the contrary, I think it would be wise to learn about your dangerous hobby before I accidentally poison myself again, Claude."

Well, he can't say no to that.

Byleth considers not showing up for game night. The more her roommates talk about it, the more hesitant she feels about barging in on some years-old tradition that occurs so reguarly.

The day arrives before Byleth has the chance to make up a convincing excuse. The afternoon before the event, their kitchen is bustling with activity. Lorenz is trying his utmost to remain calm as his tarts bake in the oven. Worried they may not have enough time to cook and cool before their guests arrive, Lorenz paces a line into their carpet, bemoaning his late start. Leonie sets out a bowl of mightily topped nachos, a recipe she claims she stole from her work place. Claude is just putting on the finishing touches on some simple meat skewers when Byleth comes back with the alcohol. She doesn't know how to cook anything remotely palatable, but she figures spirits will be a suitable donation.

"Oh, damn, Teach, you got the good stuff," Claude remarks approvingly when he inspects the haul.

They set all the food on the dining table, and shortly thereafter, the first of the guests arrive. 

"Raph!" Leonie launches herself at a giant, muscular blond man as soon as he steps into the hallway. 

He laughs, a deep, rolling laugh that comes from his belly, and claps her on the back. "Hey, Leonie! Hey, Lorenz, Claude!" He waves at the other two. When he spies Byleth, he extends a hand. "Nice to meet you, I'm Raphael and behind me, that's--"

He breaks off when he glances back into an empty hallway and walks back to the door. "Bernie?" He pokes his head out the front. "Do you need help carrying that?"

"N-no, I'm fine," a small voice replies. A moment later, a woman that is completely dwarfed by Raphael's giant frame steps into view. She's holding a tray of cupcakes, each one topped with a cat's face made with frosting. Her gray eyes meekly avert from Byleth's as she hurries over to the table to drop off her offering. 

"That's Bernadetta, my girlfriend," Raphael explains. "She's a little shy with strangers."

"That's okay, I understand."

The door swings open again with a bang and there's a wince following by another voice that is gently admonishing.

"Caspar! You're going to knock that thing off its hinges!" 

"Sorry! Forgot about this weird door--it wasn't intentional!"

Two new faces make their way into the hallway. The young woman is dressed incredibly stylishly, with bright bubblegum pink hair and a cheerful demeanor. The man next to her sets down something that looks like pasta salad. He's dressed like a personal trainer, and from the slightly sweaty and rumpled appearance, looks like he's just gotten off of work. 

"Oh, you must be the Professor they've all been talking about!" Hilda greets her, hurrying over. "I'm Hilda! That's my boyfriend Caspar over there." The man being mentioned waves. His muscular arms are bare in his sleeveless hoodie.

Byleth tries to smile, but the social anxiety is starting to creep up on her. Claude must notice something because he pulls Hilda away to get some help with something in the kitchen. 

The trio arrives last: Raphael's best friend, Ignatz, also someone from Garreg Mach archery club; Marianne, a quiet and soft-spoken woman who works as a veterinarian; and Lysithea, a scholarly girl that does not look nearly old enough to be drinking. 

After grabbing plates and serving themselves, everyone meanders to the couch and coffee table. There are pillows thrown on the carpet so that everyone has a comfy place to sit. Byleth looks around, wondering where to go, plate held awkwardly in front of her. Claude waves, gesturing to the space next to him on the couch. It's narrow, but it's only place that still has space. She reluctantly goes to it. When she sits down, her bare thigh is flush with Claude's. Byleth tries not to think about it as she brings the plate to her mouth and starts to eat. Everything she bites into is delicious, but she likes Claude's cooking the most.

Before the board game is fully set up, Hilda complains about not being comfortable. Before Leonie can get up to grab a spare chair, Caspar pulls his girlfriend into his lap. Hilda's lips curl into a satisfied smile as she settles into him. They don't even seem embarrassed, and no one even looks twice. Byleth blinks in amazement, wondering if that's something between the two that happens often.

Cross-legged on the floor, Bernadetta meticulously sets up some pieces on the board, humming to herself. Raphael sits behind her, his chin resting gently on her shoulder while he watches her set up the game. Leonie catches Byleth's eyes across the couch, an apologetic smile on her face. Byleth shrugs in response, trying to convey that it's fine. She's an outsider to this group, after all. 

"Lorenz, would you hurry up already?" Claude calls over his shoulder. "We're about to get started without you."

Lorenz glares at him over the tart pan that he's only just taking out of the oven. "Do you mind? I need to be careful or else they won't set quite right."

Lysithea sips on a cup of plain juice, gesturing to Bernadetta where to place certain pieces. Marianne and Ignatz dutifully bring over several bottles of alcohol, setting it on the large coffee table. There's a series of whistles as their guests recognize the labels.

 
"Color me surprised. You're all usually so stingy when it comes to alcohol," Hilda remarks.

Leonie points cheerfully to Byleth, and she responds by sinking into the sofa a little. 

A gasp. "Way to go, Professor!" chirps Hilda appreciatively. She helps herself to the bottle closest to her. Hilda generously pours for the others as well. 

They wait for Lorenz to come over and as they do, they all polish off their first helpings. Raphael goes up to get seconds just as they're about to start, and Bernadetta has to call him back down. "Wait until after we start, Raphael."

Claude leans over to Byleth, although there's not much space to lean. "This one's called the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Have you played it before?" Byleth shakes her head. Claude's breath is warm against her ear as he shares the rules and details. It's confusing and hard to follow, especially at this proximity. "Does that make sense?"

"Not...really," she admits.

"Ah, that's alright. You can partner with me, and I'll help you through it." Louder, Claude announces, "Byleth and I are partners."

"Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?" Leonie says, exasperated. It's obvious that she usually ends up pairing with him for board games. 

"I can be your partner, Leonie," says Hilda, sticking her elegantly painted fingernails in the air.

"Hey, what about me?" blurts Caspar, looking betrayed. 

Hilda smirks at him coyly. "Oh, but we always play together, don't we?" Caspar flushes to the tips of his ears. Hilda then laughs, ruffling his hair playfully. "Okay, well I can't say no to that face. Sorry, Leonie, you're on your own this time." She pecks her boyfriend on the cheek.

Leonie sighs, like this happens far too often. "Alright, Ignatz, you and me then," Leonie says. 

Ignatz looks up, startled, his glasses slipping off his nose. "W-what? Me?"

"There's going to have to be a group of three," Claude says finally. "Lysithea, Marianne, do you mind grouping with Lorenz?"

"I don't mind," Marianne says quietly. 

Lysithea pops a nacho in her mouth. "Fine by me. Just don't hold me back, you two."

Lorenz looks pleased by their responses. "Well then," a smile curves onto Lorenz's lips, "there's no way we'll be losing."

Over time, the rules and strategies of the other groups becomes apparent. Caspar likes to get himself in the fray, but is often thwarted by Hilda, who does not like to be in the center of things. Bernadetta only likes to go on the offensive when she's cornered, and Raphael stays close to protect her. Leonie and Ignatz make an effective team, but they favor long-range attacks, so it's easy to get past them if she strikes them close. Lorenz's trio relies on a lot of items and obscure special rules to get ahead. They often surprise her with a random rule that is seemingly pulled out of thin air. 

Before long, Byleth is taking the reins on their team. Claude is content to sit back and let her strategize. She's a professor of war gaming after all. Although trite by comparison, this is very familiar territory. And it's thrilling to have so many unique people to play against, giving her a chance to observe, react, and conquer.

However, there's one thing that ends up shooting her in the foot. It's something she doesn't anticipate. Every turn, whoever is in first, must drink. It's apparently a house rule. Her mind stays clear for half the game, but eventually the alcohol starts to make her feel unlike herself. Claude, who seems to be able to tolerate his drink better than her, has to sometimes rescind a call she makes in her alcohol-fueled stupor to keep them ahead.

Lysithea seems to be the only one sober at this point, and she starts to gain a lead on them. She frequently yells at Lorenz to stop imbibing his favorite top-shelf whiskey and focus. Marianne has already stopped sipping at her glass of spirits, but it's clear the the alcohol has dulled her acuity. She seems to expend significant effort to stay focused on the task at hand. On rare occasions, Marianne will make an astute observation to her team that saves them from being knocked into last place by Byleth's team.

Hilda and Caspar drink even when they're not ahead. Hilda's high-pitched screams of delight whenever it's her team's turn livens up the entire house. Caspar is much louder, but much less inebriated than his partner. Bernadetta is curled up in Raphael's lap by this point, voicing out moves they can make. She looks a lot more at home in his lap than out of it. Her cheeks are a bright red from the alcohol, but she's still quiet and doesn't directly address Byleth unless necessary. Raphael, probably the least likely of any of them to succumb to drunkenness, tries to keep his girlfriend propped up as he advances their pieces on the board. She affectionately kisses him on the chin when he earns them a point. When she does, Raphael looks like he might go outside and start lifting cars just to prove he can.

The game is reaching its final stretch. There's only two turns left in the game before the winner is crowned. Byleth, definitely tipsy by now, grabs Claude by the scruff of his shirt, pulling his face close to hers. 

"We can't lose here, Claude," she says, as seriously as she can. A small giggle escapes her, and Claude blinks those huge, beautiful green eyes at her. There's a flush on his cheeks from the drink, although it could be from something else; Byleth can't tell.

"Don't worry, Teach," he replies carefully, trying to ease her hands off him. "I got you."

She only tightens her grip, and she presses her forehead to his. She can feel his breath quicken against her face. "Claude, you don't understand. I know how to get us to victory. There's a gambit I want us to try..." 

Despite her state, Hilda turns her head to stare at them both, an insidious smile on her face. "What are you two whispering about?"

Byleth releases Claude, sending him back into the couch with a thud. "How to win," Byleth replies confidently. Her body does something of an ironic bow as she says it and Claude tries not to laugh.

"Oh, did you hear that?" Hilda says loudly to Leonie and Lysithea. "The Professor thinks she can win this!"

Lysithea, at this point, is rubbing her temple as everyone around her behaves deliriously. Leonie shouts something, but Byleth is too unfocused to understand what it is, and then Leonie cuffs Ignatz around the neck. He squeaks and Leonie's beer bottle points to their pieces on the board as she whispers something furiously into his ear. Ignatz nods vigorously, and his glasses slip off his face and into the carpet below.

"Lorenz, look, if we just--Lorenz! Are you even paying attention?" Lysithea snaps. Both Marianne and Lorenz look as if they're holding onto the petite girl for dear life. "C'mon," she shakes them both fruitlessly, waving a card in their faces, "we're so close to winning!"

"Claude," Byleth tries again, her hand missing his chest and dropping into his lap. He jumps like she's thrown a shark on him. He attempts to pry her arm off him, but she misunderstands and clasps his hand with her own, like they're making a vow. Her head, feeling heavier than stone, drops onto his shoulder as she continues speaking. "We have to use both cards, and this one." She shakes three cards in her hand at him, whapping him on the nose.

Beside her, Byleth can feel Claude swallow thickly. She looks up. "Don't you trust me?" she whispers, her eyelashes fluttering over dark blue irises.

Claude licks his lips, and Byleth's eyes dart to them, staring. "Of course, I trust you."

She smiles then; there's a that familiar warm, fluttery feeling in her chest. It's like she can take on the world. He gently pries the three cards from her, and understanding dawns on his face.

"Okay," he says quietly. Claude puts down one of the cards, to set up for their final round.

"Okay," Byleth replies, wanting to kiss him. 

"DRINK!" screams Leonie, pointing accusingly at Lysithea as she advances into first on the second to last round. 

Lysithea hurriedly brings a glass to Lorenz's mouth, but his lips flatten in distaste and he turns his head away with a pout. He's reached his limit, even with whiskey. "Marianne, please?" Lysithea says, offering her the glass. Marianne's eyebrows knit together and she also turns away. "Oh, c'mon! This rule is childish!" objects Lysithea, glaring at Leonie.

"Well, someone has to drink it," interjects Hilda, her cheeks bright pink and her voice bubbly. Caspar is openly planting little kisses against her face now, and she doesn't even attempt to stop him. 

Raphael sighs, his arm reaching out to Lysithea, while gently balancing his girlfriend with his other arm. Bernadetta drunkenly clutches the sleeve of his shirt, pulling it back to inadvertently show off his large biceps. "Alright, give it here--hey, Bernie, uhh--"

Byleth snatches the glass from the girl's hand and downs it. She feels it burn down her throat. Lysithea, Raphael and Claude all gape at her. "Don't need to be sober to win this," she says with a dangerous look in her eye. Claude tugs at the collar of his shirt. Did it just get hotter in here?

She turns to Claude triumphantly. "Are you ready?" Her dark eyes are fiery, voice husky, and her lips are bright from biting them. Claude realizes he's had way too much if she's looking at him like he think she's looking at him. Byleth scoots forward on the couch, half onto Claude's lap. He suppresses a groan as her ass kneads against his upper thigh. She yanks the remaining two cards out of his hand and slams them down on the coffee table. She forgets her strength because the table shakes dangerously and Lysithea has to grab a couple of glasses that threaten to tumble off. "Everyone, allow me to demonstrate."

There's a roar as it dawns on them all she's ended the game. She's won. She looks over at her partner, and smiles. Claude smiles back, and it truly lights up his entire face.

Byleth decides she really likes game night.

Byleth feels the full weight of her hangover the day after game night. She doesn't remember how she got into bed, but she's fairly certain that she needed to be carried up the stairs at least. Below her, she can hear the muted sounds of Leonie humming as she cleans the bottom floor. With a groan, Byleth sits up, hoping to help Leonie wrap up in case there's anything else that needs to be done.

She squints against the bright sunlight in the room, bringing a hand to shield her eyes. It's odd because her room normally doesn't get the morning light, as it faces the west.

When her leg knocks a stack of books off the bed, she freezes. She is not in her room.

She's in Claude's.

Byleth jerks to her feet, and quickly regrets it. The throbbing in her head increases ten-fold, and she winces, clutching her temple. 

Foolish of me to have had so much to drink last night.

"Oh, you're awake." Claude leans against the frame of his door, a mischievous smile curving his lips. 

"Why am I in here?" Her mouth and brain feel like they're full of cotton. 

"You started to fight me when I was trying to get you into your own room." Byleth looks up at him sharply, and winces when her skull responds with another throb. She isn't surprised. She's been told of her combative habit while drunk. "Need some help?" 

"I'm alright." 

Claude watches her intently as she crosses his room, her brow knit in concentration lest she tread on his books or clothes. She looks up to say something as she makes it past him, but he opens his mouth at the same time.

"I want you to know," Claude says, "that nothing happened with us last night."

Byleth slowly looks over her shoulder. Claude wonders if he's imagining the way her eyes darken and the tease of her tongue along her lips. "Oh, I'm aware of that. Why, did you want something to happen, Claude?"

He stills.

Her mouth curves into the slightest smile, but she doesn't go. It takes him a moment to realize she's not leaving until she gets an answer. So, in the end, Claude doesn't say anything, doesn't give her the satisfaction of falling into her trap.

He closes the distance between them and kisses her.

She sighs, her fingers curling around the back of his neck.

Two can play at this game.