Chapter Text
Vieran never really had considered that on valentine's day he'd coincidentally get a valentine's day card. What a small world.
He didn't really expect any cards to fall out of his locker that day—like at all. Surprisingly—concerningly? There was a zine—card? Maybe an envelope, fluttering right down to his shoes.
He didn't react immediately—not really. Just staring at the paper with his full bedhead and brain that had barely even registered the last 1 hour of its awakening. If you can really call it a bedhead—basically, slightly more messier in his unstyled curly hair.
The hallway was more lively than usual—well you know, obviously. It was all busy and sappy all around.
He wasn't quite used to this kind of attention, really. He lifted his head up to stand straight, scanning the rest of the hallway like he'd immediately find who sent the card.
Well, if he did then what would he really do with that information afterwards, anyway?
Either way, curiosity took over him, looking over the scattered crowd of students wearing the same navy blazer and sometimes differing ties.
Scanning faces—any gaze directed at him.
He somehow eventually found a pair of eyes staring after at least five minutes of just awkwardly standing by his locker.
A pair of eyes which when he took a glance at least 2 seconds lived, immediately looked away like criminal guilty.
It wasn't anyone he really noticed before, not anyone he'd really considered talking to honestly.
Elliott von Katte—an unnecessarily fancy name for someone so rugged and scatter-brained.
He was..a student alright.
Some orch-kid that played the viola people noticed—maybe shake hands or high five while walking down the hall—end of story.
Sometimes helping out in the theatre when they had missing backstage hands.
Not really popular, just known
Vieran was aware of his existence at best.
Well, he didn't really know if it was even him in the first place, but what he always says: “for the sake of this specific situation”
Elliott wasn't anybody of significance in his academic and social life—no, not really.
But now he felt like he really had to get to know him, and the reason of—well—why give a card to him of all people? Considering Elliott was on the more attractive side.
Well, conventionally. The more traditional kind of attractive. Blonde, ehm—somewhat skinny, well; white, a more rounder eye shape, and with a perfectly straight nose. Maybe that was a little outdated, but Björn Anderson fit that description, it's not far off.
So that was a little odd—out of all people that he could've easily swayed that day—he chose Vieran specifically.
Including the fact he did seem bashful.
Well, Vieran didn't know if that was his normal nature actually.
He'd only taken a few quiet glances at the kid, maybe sometimes he'd look a little far too long
But he did do that with basically everyone. Taking the meticulous effort to identify most classmates.
🜚🜚🜚
Elliott Calloway. The name rang through his head ever since spotting him staring.
Sitting through second period chemistry—he wasn't quite listening at all.
The envelope was sitting in his bag, he hadn't opened it yet.
He was more pondering over the times he'd interacted with Elliott. Maybe he'd run into him once or twice, maybe he'd helped him out once in the library or something like that.
Something that could somehow indicate why? Somehow.
Vieran didn't know much at all about what this chemical was about. He'd never really experienced it deeply. Maybe once or twice, but it's always been passing by.
He probably couldn't empathize with how Elliott felt—probably. He wasn't close with him at all, and he didn't intend to have a relationship in the already messy theatrics the boarding school had that week, rumors spreading like diseases from one silly misunderstanding or joke.
It wasn't that Elliott couldn't be a bad person to like at all—he seems to be a nice guy at least. Maybe he'd even consider trying to reciprocate.
And maybe—
Oh yeah, chemistry class. Ms..mrs? Eileen?..Evangeline?.. Elliott?
His drowsy head couldn't remember.
All he knew was Mx. E something was standing right beside his desk with a disproving glare.
“Lorelei,” she'd always start out,
She paused for just a second, almost like she was searching for something on Vieran’s face. (Regret? Fear? Absence?) “If you intend to keep your student council role as Vice, I highly recommend paying attention.”
Right.
He wasn't usually out of his mindspace, usually focused on the goal; or whatever he needed to focus on.
Not.. daydreaming or pondering during class. That wasn't like him at all.
Maybe he'd zone out too much on some days, but he wasn't thinking much.
Today he was thinking about something—that didn't quite matter at all. Future and present.
Well let's just blame that on the lack of sleep shall we?
Yeah. Lack of sleep.
🜚🜚🜚
Curiosity got to Vieran by the time the first break came around.
He immediately went off to round a corridor nobody really knew about except the janitor (who kept it clean and tidy) and immediately dropped his bag on his lap the second he sat down.
Using the light from a nearby window, he dug into his bag looking for the one piece of paper.
He then took it out, (impatient much?) gently taking the wax seal off.
He carefully took out the paper out of the envelope like it'd reveal the secrets to the universe (that he'd swore he didn't care much about)
Reading slowly and rereading lines he felt like he needed to.
“How can one hope to hold anyone with nothing but words? I'm not good at this. I'm not good at admissions. Wanna be my valentine?”
There wasn't quite anything written beyond that.
Well that was straightforward. He didn't know what he expected, but not much this short.
No signage (not that he needed that at this point) no regards—just, “wanna be my valentine”
Endearing.
To him, at least. He even almost caught himself unconsciously smiling just a little. Damn him.
He wasn't at all usually this sappy.
But he found himself laying on his bed, rereading the letter again and again and again—was he kicking his feet unknowingly? Probably.