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Cater’s gaze was transfixed on the glimmering peach-colored poison as Vil gracefully stirred the concoction. Despite the hour of running around, preparing ingredients, and magic use they had just undergone to create the concoction, not a strand of Vil’s hair was out of place. The steam that floated up from the cauldron had beaded tiny pearls of moisture on their face, but even those looked purposefully placed to enhance her beauty. It was moments like these where Cater thanked the Dark Mirror for choosing him to attend the same school as Vil Schoenheit; even just seeing her up close like this was a blessing.
A sharp voice shocked Cater out of his admiration. “Time’s up, pups. Hands off the poisons, I’ll be coming around to evaluate everyone’s work.” Crewel cracked his whip firmly into his palm. “As always, those who failed to yield the correct poison ratio will get a chance over the weekend to retry.”
Worried murmurs traveled around the laboratory as students compared their poisons to the example in their textbook. A groan was heard from the back row as Professor Crewel began to make his rounds to every pair’s cauldron.
“You’re welcome,” Vil smirked as she took her safety goggles off and propped them on her forehead.
“As always, thanks again Vi,” Cater sheepishly smiled in response, “I sure am #LuckyASF to have you of all people as my lab partner!”
In truth, he had felt awful about how much work Vil had done for him. He was indeed lucky to have them in Poison Refining, the subject they were undoubtedly the best in, but felt incredibly useless watching them complete most of the work without him. He helped where he could—mashing ingredients into a paste wasn’t that hard— but when it came to the actual poison-making, Vil could only watch him for a few seconds before offering to take over just about every step of the process. He could never refuse her, either, with the way she gently placed her hands over his and drenched her voice in sweet tones as she suggested he step aside.
Vil tapped her finger in between Cater’s brows. They gave him a stern, but knowing look. He lightly laughed at their disapproval. His internal self-deprivation must’ve shown clearly on his face.
They tilted their head over in the direction of their steadfastly approaching professor. “Crewel is almost to us. Carry yourself with that carefree confidence you always have, hm? You did all of the work that you needed to in order to absorb the content, and I just made sure it was perfect. No need to worry like you do.”
The knot in Cater’s chest loosened up a bit. “I feel a little lame letting you do everything. That’s so not chivalrous, y’know?”
Hidden by the tall laboratory cauldron, Vil took his hand and squeezed it. “You’ll have plenty of time to prove your chivalry to me tonight.”
Cater felt his cheeks get warmer at the implication and hoped that the heat of the potionology lab was enough excuse for him to look so red. He desperately tried to rid his mind of the thoughts her phrasing led him to—they only planned an innocent date night, as they did every Friday. Even after three months of dating, she felt so unobtainable that Cater often doubted that she was genuinely serious about going out with him. That being said, the semisweet kisses they left in private were more than enough for him; anything more could stay a fantasy.
Their professor nodded in approval as he finished examining their cauldron, which didn’t last long. It never did with Vil’s poisons, as they were housewarden of Pomefiore for a reason.“Good dogs! Although I don’t doubt that Schoenheit did most of the heavy lifting, you both pass. I’ll see you two on Monday.”
“Thanks, teach!” Cater grinned and flashed a peace sign, only to their alchemy teacher’s dismay.
Crewel sighed, “You may be dismissed.”
~
Cater held his breath as he stepped through the Pomefiore mirror. His nerves always worsened as he approached Vil’s dorm and started thinking of all the ways he could screw up their date. Should he have dressed up more? Were the roses he brought too basic? Would Vil be annoyed at him for arriving five minutes early? Either way, it was too late to fix any of it as he headed down the stone pathway to the golden apple-shaped gates of Vil’s dorm building.
As he approached, it took mere seconds for a familiar figure to throw open the entrance with a wide grin splayed across his face.
“Monsieur Magicam!” Rook beamed, wasting no time on ushering Cater into the glamorously elegant Pomefiore lobby. “Roi de Poison is waiting for you in their dorm! Let me be your personal guide. I am so honored to be personally witnessing your blossoming love, c’est magnifique!”
Cater let out a half-laugh as he took his shoulders away from Rook’s arm, being careful of the roses as he did so. “TYSM, but I know the way there by now.”
Rook continued on without acknowledging Cater’s remark. “It is simply beauté! You and Roi de Poison are an unlikely pair, but seeing you break through her stone cold heart is so heart-wrenchingly wonderful, it brings tears to my eyes.”
Cater accepted that he wasn’t going to shake Rook off for the duration of this walk. “Uh, not creepy at all, but thanks, I guess?”
“Of course, of course. I am but a humble observer, Monsieur Magicam, always in awe of our beautiful Vil and a supporter of everything that enhances her visage. Your presence makes her smile more, and what is more beautiful than a queen’s joy?”
Cater could only hum in agreement as a warm feeling washed over him. If anything, Rook was observant. If Rook had noticed a change in Vil, that meant they genuinely did feel something for him other than pity. It was stupid, but knowing that he had affected Vil, even if it was in some obscure way that only the keen-eyed huntsman would notice, quelled his anxieties for the time being. She was smart, gorgeous, famous, and one of the most capable mages at Night Raven College, and somehow his social media-driven, attention-seeking personality hadn’t totally icked her out.
“Do I really make Vi smile more?” Cater asked in a hushed whisper as they approached the housewarden’s door.
“I have no reason to lie, Monsieur Magicam.” Rook glanced at him with a gleam in his eyes. He smiled at Cater just long enough for him to start feeling uncomfortable, then motioned for him to knock on the delicately detailed wooden door. “Do not keep beautiful Vil waiting.”
He chose to heed Rook’s instruction, lightly rapping at the mahogany. The soft patter of heels on carpet could be heard before the lock clicked open and Vil appeared in the doorway. She had changed out of her lab coat and into her neatly pressed Pomefiore dorm robes, hair now tied up in a picture-perfect bun, tiara delicately balanced on the part of her bangs. Cater felt silly standing before her in his wrinkled Heartslabyul jacket, offering a small bouquet of white roses.
“Welcome back, my diamond. I thought your dorm only grew red roses?” Vil teased, glancing down at the flowers.
“Oh, no,” Cater giggled nervously, twirling a ginger lock of hair around his fingers as he launched into an explanation, “These are fresh blooms. I thought it would be cute to give you our roses now that they’re in season. They’re all white, though, it’s the student’s job to #PaintTheRosesRed for all the unbirthday parties!”
“Really?” Vil responded in disbelief as she accepted the bouquet. “Heartslabyul really does adhere to such nonsensical traditions.”
They motioned for him to enter their dorm. Cater obliged, glancing back to say goodbye to Rook, only to find that the vice housewarden had disappeared in the twenty seconds his attention wasn’t on him. He could never get a good read on that guy. Vil closed the door behind him.
“Is it okay with you if we stay in today?” Vil suggested, sitting down at her vanity.
“Totally fine by me!” Cater nodded, leaning on the back of the chair that Vil sat on. “But what’s up? You always want fresh air after the poisons lab!”
She sighed, leaning her head on her hands. “Yes, I do love our walks, but today has been utterly exhausting between classes and calls from my manager.” Her eyes looked up to Cater in the mirror. “It would be nice to have a relaxing date night where nobody is gawking at us. You would think that Night Raven College would be secluded enough for us to be left alone, but alas.”
“OMG, yeah,” Cater agreed, “Feels like everyone is staring out there! #NotCool at all. But anyway, I enjoy every date I get to have with you, no matter the location.”
Vil softly smiled. “You’re a sweetheart. Come here,” they whispered, reaching up to guide Cater’s face down to hers. He followed her motion, leaning down to plant a short peck on her cheekbone.
“You can do better than that, Diamond,” they grinned slyly, now holding both sides of his face tenderly in their fingertips. “Give me a real one.”
Vil’s commanding nature never failed to get Cater antsy. He could feel his breath shake as he pressed a longer kiss onto her mouth. As he tried to break away, Vil pulled him back into a deeper embrace— only on her demand did they finally release each other.
Vil pushed Cater’s loose hairs away from his face as she looked over his expression. “You make me happy, Cater. You look down on yourself much too often, and it irks me. Why do you refuse to accept that I like you?”
Cater looked at them wide-eyed for a moment, still caught up on the kiss they had just shared and now trying to process that they had been aware of his emotional turmoil this whole time. Probably all day, even.
He darted his eyes away from her analytical gaze. “I mean, you’re the Vil Schoenheit. Actor, model, brand owner? Who would believe that you have feelings for them?”
“What will it take for you to believe me, then?” Vil’s eyes narrowed with thinly veiled irritation. “I asked you out over three months ago. I’ve held you, kissed you, held your hands at every quiet moment we get together. We go out at least once every week. What do you want from me, Diamond?” Her voice cracked from anger into pleading as she went on, forcing him to focus his attention back on her. “I don’t want to lose you to yourself. I know full well how lonely it is when you get lost in negative emotions.”
Cater winced. He had only gotten closer with Vil after her overblot, but he knew from Rook’s refusal to talk about the event that it wasn’t pretty. The fact that she was afraid of him being overtaken by overblot-level emotions told him that she was very concerned.
“You don’t need to do anything more than what we do already, I swear it’s not that,” Cater affirmed, getting onto his knees to look directly up into Vil’s eyes. “You’re just so incredible, it feels like regular ol’ Cay-Cay can’t offer you much in return.”
Vil took both his hands into theirs, shaking their head as they responded. “I know I treated you harshly at first, and it makes me feel terrible that I discounted your flirtations as disingenuous. I realized much too late that you and I aren’t all that different, and…” her silk-lined voice trailed off as she looked for the right words to say.
“It’s okay, Vi. I never thought you’d take me seriously back then, anyways.” Cater was desperate to find any words that could make Vil’s pained expression go away.
“But I was a fool not to,” she sighed, leaning her forehead down onto Cater’s. “I like you so much, Cater, and I just can’t explain it all. You play yourself down so much, but I admire you, too. The way you seem so free, and how you make yourself a friend to everyone. You have just as many strengths as I have, and I have just as many, if not even more flaws than you do.”
She placed another kiss on his forehead, then leaned back to sit straight up. A giddy smile stretched across her face. “Stand up and look at yourself. Maybe I should continue to prove just how much I like you like this, hm?”
Cater did as he was told. The reflection that looked back at him was plastered in peachy pink lipstick marks, and his face quickly blushed to nearly match the color.
“Well, we def can’t go out now,” Cater chuckled, gently touching the place on his forehead where they had left the stain.
“Maybe if we did, everyone would get the message and leave us alone,” Vil laughed, bringing the back of her hand up to cover her mouth as she did so. “Anyway, you will stop thinking that I am playing some elaborate joke on you, right?”
“Right,” Cater conceded, still examining himself in the mirror.
Vil stood up from the vanity, taking Cater’s arm to lead her into her bed. “You like that look, don’t you? Let’s put some more on, then.”
~
It wasn’t long before the two were giggling incessantly at each other’s flurry of kisses, uniforms undone and body heat radiating off each other. In the midst of the affection, Vil momentarily sat up to reapply lipstick to cover their boyfriend even more while Cater appreciated his view from below her.
“You still look perfect even after we’ve been messing around. How do you do that? Is it, like, secret Pomefiore powers?”
“I’ll never tell,” they grinned, closing the lipstick and placing it back on the desk next to their bed. They pulled Cater’s jacket collar aside to leave multiple smooth burgundy marks prominently displayed high up on his neck. The flutter of her long eyelashes tickled at the edge of his jaw, causing him to release a light giggle.
“Don’t go too far,” he mumbled, running a hand through Vil’s lavender-dipped locks of hair, “Would be a little embarrassing if you left something that I can’t wash off, amirite?”
Vil propped their chin delicately on his chest, their violet eyes casually glancing over his face. “You may have a point. I do have an image to upkeep.”
A hot tinge of anxiety shot through Cater’s body. He put a smile on as he tried to brush the feeling off. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to ruin your picture-perfect rep!”
Vil smirked and cocked an eyebrow up at him. “But now I’m not sure… maybe if we’re even more public, it’ll get those annoying spudlings off our backs?” She ran a manicured finger across his collarbone as she seemed to mull through her options. Her contemplative expression, alongside the gentle touch next to the area she had just kissed, caused a familiarly uncomfortable feeling to arise at the bottom of his stomach. He chose to stare at the stained glass window to get the sensation to calm.
“What’re you thinking about?” Vil chided, tapping at his nose to command his attention back, “You have Vil Schoenheit right in front of you. Has Magicam degraded your attention span that severely?”
“No! No, I just…” Cater trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence truthfully.
“Don’t tell me you still don’t believe me,” Vil groaned, “That mind of yours is irritating.”
“Not this time,” Cater shakily laughed, “You’re just… so beautiful.”
Their piercing violet eyes softened at the compliment. “I know. Why don’t you focus on me, then?”
“You—I mean—I think focusing on you right now would put me in a really embarrassing position! If you know what I mean…” Cater’s face grew warmer as he fumbled over the explanation. He saw their eyes widen slightly as the implication clicked. They hummed quietly before deciding on a response.
“It’s not the end of the world. In fact, you’re the only person that I want to feel that way about me. So don’t act so ashamed about it.”
As Cater kept his gaze on Vil, watching her eyes as they flit back and forth from contemplation to assertiveness and the pout of her lip as she waited for his response, the feeling only grew stronger.
“I might need to leave a little early, then,” he chuckled, shifting his body up from under Vil’s weight, “Cause it’s def not gonna go away with us like this!”
Their brows furrowed with annoyance. “No. Listen to me, Cater: I’m telling you it’s okay because I want to do this with you, too.” They wrapped their arms around his neck, pulling their faces closer together.
Cater let out a nervous breath. “You’re sure?” he whispered, steadfastly locking his eyes with theirs, “You don’t need to do anything. I don’t want to make you feel forced, at all.”
Vil planted a deep kiss on his mouth, pulling away only when her lipstick was slightly smudged across both of their mouths. “You’re the only person I’ve ever trusted with me. Flirting, going out, physical affection, and even sex. With you, the idea of all of it doesn’t feel so terrifying anymore.”
Cater kissed her back, letting his body sink back into the bed. “You read my mind,” he said with a tender smile, “We’re way too linked up.”
“Is that a yes, then?” they asked, extending their arms to brace themself above Cater.
He couldn’t help feeling total awe as he looked up at them, taking the time to fully admire the image.
“Yes,” he breathed, “But you should lead. I’ll be okay with whatever you do.”
She smirked and shook her head as one of her hands traveled down to fiddle with the zipper of his pants. “That’s not how this works. You tell me if you don’t like it. I’m just as inexperienced as you are on this one, so don’t just sit back and watch this time, hm?”
Cater nodded expectantly as he watched Vil’s hand, letting her unzip his slacks before helping pull them further down his waist. Her slender fingers reached into his briefs, barely brushing over his sensitive spots as she studied his expression expectantly, analyzing his reaction. He bit his lip, feeling his breath grow heavier as she continued.
Through a few moments of trial accompanied by barely whispered guidance from Cater, Vil found the spot they were searching for. The intense sensation was unlike any he’d experienced before—the delicate, yet eager rhythm of Vil’s hand sent waves of pleasure throughout his being. They looked down at him with an expression he hadn’t ever seen: one desperately looking for approval.
“Do you like this?” they mumbled, slowing down the movement of their fingers.
“Yeah,” he softly whimpered, turning his face to touch his cheek against the arm that held Vil up. He closed his eyes, wanting to focus solely on the pleasure they were giving him.
“You’re so handsome,” they cooed, picking up their pace again, “Even like this, I find you so frustratingly attractive. My diamond.”
The praise affected Cater more than it should have. His body tensed as a quiet moan escaped him, and his eyes flitted back open as his cheeks became a deep red. Vil grinned, obviously satisfied with their work.
“You’re good at everything you do. So not fair,” Cater joked, masking his blush by turning into Vil’s pillows.
“You’ll have a chance to get back at me, don’t get huffy,” they smiled, placing a gentle peck on the nape of his neck.
“I think I need some recovery time before that…” he said, voice muffled against the indigo satin he was buried in.
“Not right now, Cater,” Vil purred, “but I wouldn’t mind doing that again.”
“Not right now, Vi,” he shot back, turning his head back to stick his tongue out at her mischievously. “Same time next week?”
Vil laughed the rich, girly laugh that Cater loved to get in response. “We’ll see. Let’s focus on getting you cleaned up, hm?”
They shared another long embrace, and for the first time in a long time, Cater felt truly loved.