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"Professor Claudien, were you running particularly late this morning?"
"Hm?"
Ruissenaud watched as Claudien lifted his head from the manuscript he had been studying. He looked largely the same as usual - dark bags under his wine red eyes from too many late nights in the lab, his blonde hair messy and disheveled by how often he ran his hands through it. However, there was a single detail out of place that provided the answer to Ruissenaud's question before the professor even opened his mouth to speak.
"Why, yes, I was," he admitted easily, as if there was nothing to be ashamed about making your assistants wait for you to show up, "My alarms failed to wake me, you see. I fear I shall have to find something even more loud and obnoxious to assure I don't fall too terribly behind."
"Didn't you already grab the loudest alarm you could possibly buy?"
"That's true, but with the danger of the Exodus behind us, people have been allowed to return to their pet projects once more. Last I heard, Bertswinda had been working with the craftsmen of the Stadium to discover a mechanical means of multiplying a sound to several times its normal volume. Although their trials are still in the early prototype stages, she already inquired if I would be able to serve as one of their test subjects once they have a working version. Now, I can't say why she asked me of all the professors, but who am I to say no to lending a hand to the further progression of her studies. Actually-"
Claudien continued to speak, the scroll he had been pouring over obsessively seemingly forgotten in the glow of his scientific fervor for his student's studies. Were Nemjiji here, she would surely be stepping in by now, pulling the professor back to earth with a single well-placed comment. Ruissenaud, however, could never bring himself to speak up when the professor got like this.
It was as exasperating as it was endearing.
As that thought crossed his mind (as it inevitably always did) Ruissenaud felt his cheeks flare. For the longest time he had managed to convince himself that what he was feeling for the professor was simple academic admiration. However, when he started noticing the way Claudien's nose crinkled when he smiled or how his eyes lit up when he went off on a tangent like this, Ruissenaud was finally forced to admit what he was admiring was far more than the professor's academic accreditation.
Admit it to himself.
Only to himself.
To come out and…admit it to the professor? No. Never. Not happening.
At least when he was admiring him from afar, there wasn't the horrifying potential of rejection. Because if he were to reject him, what would happen then? Surely things would grow awkward and he'd end up being assigned as a different professor's assistant. And if that were to happen, any stolen moments he had to quietly admire the professor would simply vanish.
"Ruissenaud?"
The sudden sound of the professor saying his own name jerked him back into the moment. As his eyes refocused, he saw Claudien staring at him, his head cocked ever so slightly to the side like a confused puppy. When had he finished his tangent!? How long had the professor been staring at him!?
The flush on Ruissenaud's cheeks darkened to almost perfectly match the shade of the professor's eyes as he quickly looked down at the book in his hands and flipped through a few pages without reading a word.
"S-Sorry, professor," he eventually said, his heartbeat thundering in his chest, "Did you need me for something?"
"Not so much needing you for something but rather asking you a question."
Shit shit shit. Had he caught him staring at him while he was speaking? Had he figured him out? Oh gods, was he about to be reassigned? Why was Nemjiji still in the back of the archives and not here to bail him out as she had countless times before!?
"Oh! A question! Yes, that's fine!," Ruissenaud said, furiously flipping a few more pages, refusing to meet the professor's eyes, "Please, ask away, Professor Claudien!"
He could feel the professor studying him, but there was nothing he could do to cool the heating of his cheeks. He swallowed, waiting for the hammer to fall.
"Why did you ask if I was running late this morning?"
Ruissenaud blinked once. Twice. Then, with a rush of air and a weak laugh, he expelled the tension from his body. How foolish of him. Of course the professor wouldn't notice anything. If it didn't pertain to scientific advancement, the professor spared it little thought. The silly potential crush of one of his assistants was most assuredly not even a vague possibility in his mind.
"That's all?" Ruissenaud asked, his relief evident in his voice, "It's because you forgot to do your braids today. Even when you're running late, I've never seen you arrive with them unbound."
Out of the corner of his eye, Ruissenaud watched as one of the professor's hands flew to the side of his face. His fingers began to run through the vaguely wavy strands of gold, his expression comically surprised. Ruissenaud found himself smiling as he turned to face him.
"It appears you're correct!" Claudien commented when his fingers finally came to a rest, "I undid them to shower last night, but ended up collapsing in bed as I was waiting for the water to heat. I completely forgot!"
"I mean, it's not a huge deal," Ruissenaud added quickly, "I was just surprised, I suppose."
"I'm more surprised that Nemjiji didn't notice immediately and tell me to fix my disheveled appearance at once."
"Give her enough time and you'll most assuredly be hearing about it."
In unison, they both looked deeper into the archives they were in, imagining Nemjiji stomping down the hall, hands on her hips and admonishment on her lips. Their imagination did not make her manifest, thankfully. Claudien turned back to Ruissenaud, a nervous laugh on his lips.
"Yes, well, I believe it would be in our best interest to avoid that. I may not have the feathers and beads, but I believe I have some ties…" as he spoke, the professor dug through one of his endless pockets before his face lit up, "Here we are!"
Claudien held out his hand to Ruissenaud, who tilted his head to the side in a perfect mirror of the professor's earlier confusion. However, he dutifully held out his own hand for him to drop the ties into his palm.
"Let's finish this before Nemjiji comes back!" Claudien said cheerfully.
Then the professor did something as baffling as it was horrifying.
His eyes slid closed and he turned to fully face Ruissenaud. It was only then that Ruissenaud's confusion shifted into dawning realization that made his heart turn somersaults in his chest as his eyes grew comically large. Oh no. He wanted him to do the braids for him.
The professor could probably do it by himself, right? He had to know how to braid them himself! He wore them every day! Why was he asking him to do it!? Did he have some secret plan!? How did he know that Ruissenaud even knew how to braid hair!?
"Ruissenaud?"
Once more, the professor saying his name in that cute, questioning tone. Any heat Ruissenaud had managed to chase from his face came rushing back at ten times the force. He felt his mouth go dry as he set his tome down and also turned to face Claudien. His eyes remained closed, but his eyebrows were furrowed. Ruissenaud felt his breath catch.
If Nemjiji caught them like this…
"S-sorry, I didn't realize you wanted me to do it…" Ruissenaud stuttered out as he raised his hands to the side of Claudien's face.
"Of course! I can't do it by myself if I don't have a mirror, but it would take extra time to try to find one and Nemjiji could make herself known before I was successful."
"That…makes sense…" Ruissenaud said slowly as his fingers began to run through Claudien's hair. Each silky strand shimmered like liquid gold against his fingers. This was the closest he had ever been to him…
…It would be fine if he indulged just a little bit, right? It wasn't as if he would ever have this opportunity again…
The heat radiating off the professor's face warmed his fingertips as he split one section of his hair into three strands. Ruissenaud could braid hair in his sleep - a byproduct of having four younger sisters that always demanded he style their hair - but he let his fingers move achingly slowly, drawing out this little moment of connection as much as he could.
As he braided the professor's hair, his eyes wandered to study his face. He had long, golden lashes that caught the lamplight in the most enchanting way Ruissenaud had ever seen; his skin glowed in golden undertones that only accentuated his warm and inviting personality. And his lips…Ruissenaud could not linger too long on how soft and plush and imminently kissable they looked…
Scrambling for something to get his heart to calm down, Ruissenaud forced himself to look at the professor with a more critical eye. Up close he saw all kinds of small imperfections - a faded scar on the professor's bottom lip, the day-old stubble dotting his chin in patchy blotches, a smattering of old acne scars across his cheeks. They were small things that Ruissenaud had never been close enough to notice, but now he etched each one into his memory.
He started in on the second braid, his thoughts wandering further and further from the task at hand. He knew his silly little crush was just that: silly. Claudien would more than likely never return his affections. Ruisennaud had resigned himself to that reality as soon as he could put a name to the feeling in his chest.
However, logic paled in the face of silly affections.
Ruissenaud finished the braid, allowing it to fall back into place. It looked rather different without the feathers and beads to complete the look, but he had to admit that the professor looked more put together this way. Once more, Ruissenaud's eyes wandered to Claudien's face, soaking in the quiet intimacy of this stolen moment.
Quietly, gently, he let the back of his fingers brush against the professor's cheek. It was such a light touch that it could be written off as an accident when Ruissenaud was pulling his hands away from the professor's face.
"Th-they're done…" he said softly, feeling suddenly breathless.
"My thanks, Ruissenaud!" Claudien replied as his eyes snapped open and his face split with a glowing grin, "With your help, I've managed to avoid at least one of Nemjiji's lectures. Although I've no doubt she has countless more in her back pocket!"
Claudien chuckled to himself as he absently twirled a braid, began humming, and returned to his manuscript. Ruissenaud shook out the stars in his eyes as solid reality settled once more around them. He couldn't help but mirror the professor's smile as he also returned to his work.
He would certainly never be able to tell the professor his feelings, but that was alright. In these little moments he would express his love and in their research he would express his endless devotion. That had to be enough. That would satisfy him.
…Right?