Chapter Text
It had been six months since Gil had been in Paris, and he already wished he'd never have to leave. The city was beautiful, full of fascinating inventions, full of knowledge and artworks. There were also a number of sparks here, not all of them very reasonable, which, yes, did lead to some amount of trouble and mayhem, but… if Gil was honest, he also enjoyed playing the hero adventurer very much. Even though Zola was kind of annoying sometimes.
So overall, it was a rather perfect picture there.
Not one shadow to it.
And that lasted until the precise moment when André, the four-legged construct who managed the university dorms, knocked at his room's door and greated him with a cheerful:
"Bonjour, monsieur Gilgamesh! This is your new roommate!"
Gil stared at the newcomer with wide-eyed horror. Red hair, glasses, extraordinarily expensive clothing, and the golden Sturmvoraus sigil fixed on his white tie. It had been ten years since they'd last seen each other, but Tarvek hadn't changed that much.
"You?" Sturmvoraus yelped.
"What the hell?" Gil blurted.
Tarvek's eyes narrowed and went from Gil to André, who shifted somewhat on his feet.
"I see. So that's why there are suddenly 'no single rooms available' in this entire dorm. I have been warned about Simon Voltaire's peculiar sense of humor. But I have to wonder. How did he know?"
Gil put two and two together and briefly considered hitting his head against the wall in frustration.
"Well," he said, "I may have mentioned, once, while I was a little distracted, that you were the last person I'd want for a roommate."
Tarvek rolled his eyes and entered the room with a sigh.
"Moron."