Chapter Text
There are a few things you won't know if you first meet Olruggio:
One, he is 29. If he doesn’t shave, you’ll assume he’s 40. If he does, you’ll assume he’s 19. He has a baby face that really deceives the eyes, with soft cheeks and bright eyes that are so young people often mistake him for a teenager. There are some upsides, of course, but after one night of him being banned from the pub because the bouncer vehemently believed that he was underaged and demanded to see the ID that Olruggio forgot, he snapped and grew a beard. Or he did try, and it was - well, tenuous. He isn’t the type to have lots of facial hair - resulting in, eh, less than desirable result, with a beard that, despite his hardest attempt, resembles a little stubble. But the effect does help him look much older, so Olruggio won't complain.
Second, he is a best seller author. His books are Very popular, so much that he has a dedicated fan base,and his autographs are sought after. (Once, Qifrey had shown him an Ebay bid of an autographed first edition of his book that went up to several hundred thousand yens. They had the same one at home, being used as a substitute coaster because he was running very thin on a deadline, and couldn’t care less to find an appropriate coaster under the mountains of his manuscripts.)
However, since he's a recluse (his editor's word), not many people know who he is outside of the professionally- photographed fish head avatar. Olruggio is not built for that type of fame, anyway. It’s more fun when he walks past the bookshelves in a random bookstore and sees his own words and ideas in their final, polished covers. It makes all of the sleepless nights and hair pulling worth it.
And the third important thing is that Olruggio is an omega. Despite his baby face, he does not have the physique of a typical omega. He's taller than most, and so he’s bigger than most. It's not muscles, no, but weight accumulated from hours of meeting the deadline and a decadent diet full of wine and good food. His features are not soft nor delicate, but rather boyish by nature. Typical omega outfits from magazines do not suit him, and most of the time he’s mistaken for a beta. After he's grown his beard, some even think he’s an alpha. He doesn’t hate his secondary gender,as a firm believer of equal rights among all, so it’s not like it’s that much of a big deal - but again, it’s not something you brag to other people about on their first meeting, right?
The problem is the heat. Maybe it’s because he’s already atypical in appearance, his heats have to be atypical, too. They are irregular and intense, tides and tsunamis of body fluids and a deep gouging need for a connection that swallow him whole every time they arrive unannounced - in the middle of the night, at a random dawn break, in his home, on a random street. Scent blockers and patches help the leakage, but it can never truly stop the longing in his body.
(And if he’s not careful, his final, most vital secret that he’s learnt to bury deep down in his heart will come out: he’s in love with his best friend, Qifrey. Well, it’s not even a secret, sometimes, it’s a part of himself, ingrained in his blood and veins and entire human being. He’s learnt to live with it, with the rejection, the love, all that they have and all that they will ever be. But once, in his teenage years, in the middle of the night, when he was weak and has yet to understand what he accepts now, Olruggio will sob the name, once.
He does not utter it when in heat again.)
Olruggio met Qifrey when they were children, in the garden of his grandpa’s friend’s house. He was a quiet and angsty child, burdened with too much weight that the world cruelly threw at him from too young of an age. Olruggio was a bright and chatty brat, light with love from his family and full of curiosity for the world.
They didn't get along well, at first. Qifrey didn’t utter a single word, cold and uncaring of appearing rude to other people; while Olruggio was brimming with mischief, wanting to poke and prod anywhere he could. He talked Qifrey’s ears off, until the other kid couldn’t take it anymore and snapped - he screamed at Olruggio, to be exact. But afterwards, things got better. They dared each other into small games, tiny exploring adventures, going as far as into the forest at night with only a bag of snacks and 2 flashlights (and got into big troubles because of it). They shared home-cooked meals and books, then stories and secrets. They became inseparable. Two parts of a whole. The world was alright, once again.
This lasted until Olruggio’s first heat.
As a child, he did not particularly show any signs of being an Omega - rambunctious and wild as he was- so everyone had thought he’d become a Beta, like his parents, or an Alpha, for his intelligence, even. Olruggio didn’t really care, but he had thought so, too. Afterall, being an Omega came with the heats, and looking at his Omega uncle, it was such a trouble to prepare and clean. Alphas got it easier, with only a rut every 3 months, but still. If possible, he’d like to become a Beta - no unwanted disruptions for his own inventions and adventures. Unassuming, maybe, but free.
Yet, on a sunny day, when he turned 15, his body betrayed him for the first time. Olruggio felt hot,and that was the only warning he was given before the dizziness and the assault of pheromone came.
He fell apart in the middle of the classroom - a small blessing that it was a break, and there were only him and Qifrey in the room. Need and want came over him like burning lava, and Olruggio, in his confusion and fear, cried for the first time in nearly half a decade.
“Shh, Olly, I’m here.” He heard a sound, muffled and distorted. His body screamed at him for something, for anything, to soothe this foreign takeover. “You will be fine.” He was wrapped in a warm embrace. Strong hands, worried eyes.
Qifrey.
Alpha.
“Ah, ah - Please -” Olruggio grasped at whatever he could at that time - cotton fabric, warm skin - he wanted closer, closer, wanting, want want want scared want. “Help me, alpha. Please.”
“No, that is not what you need at the moment.” Jostling, and then he was scooped up, body wrapped in Qifrey’s jacket that smelled so much like him, a faint scent of the ocean and detergent, and the musk of a real human being. It was not pheromone or anything, but it helped soothe Olruggio. Then, more jostling, and with a clouded mind, he noted that they were moving, Qifrey carrying him in his arms outside of the classroom.
“I called the teachers and they kept everyone out of this floor, but we still need to get you to the nurse's office. Can you hold on until then?” Qifrey’s voice was apologetic, as if Olruggio was not the one who caused the mess.
He nodded, groggily. The jacket truly helped. “Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Olly dear. No one wanted this.”
After that, things passed by in a blur. His parent was contacted, and he was given pills - not the ones used for inhibiting heats, but just to alleviate the pain of his body changing - toys, and a secluded room in his house to ride out the rest of the heat. He spent it alone, miserable, and wanting. Olruggio had yet to be able to return the jacket back to Qifrey when he was sent back home, and so, embarrassingly, shamefully, he wore it while getting himself off, imagining the scent of his best friend enveloping him, holding him, assuring that things will be okay. Things will be fine. He came while wearing the jacket several times throughout the 5-day period.
When the heat ended, he couldn’t bring himself to give back the jacket, and so had asked shyly if he could keep it for his next nest. After all, omegas were gifted platonic clothing items from their close friends and family for their nests. So it was not too weird for him to ask, right?
Qifrey had looked at him, and after a beat, when he’d thought this would be crossing an invisible border, smiled and agreed easily.
That was when they were teenagers. Now, they are near 30, and the collection of Qifrey’s old clothes in Olruggio’s nest has grown several sizes bigger. Platonically.
“Just date each other already.” Alaira, his editor (friend) once groaned in annoyance. “I can’t just understand why you guys aren’t a thing. You are making us all miserable here.”
She made a broad gesture of his room, freshly cleaned after his heat. The nest has been broken down and the clothes cleaned, freshly folded. On the table was an array of bottled water, home-squeezed juice, and bento boxes. The garbage bin was clean. None of the mess that an unexpected heat swept by. In fact, it may be even cleaner than usual. All thanks to Qifrey.
Olruggio was so close to a deadline when his body decided it would be fun to mess up again, and so he spent 7 days holed up in his house. Well, his and Qifrey’s house. It made sense, in such an expensive city like Kyoto, to share the rent. He ignored the whispered comments of an unmated Omega and Alpha living together. They had been joined by the hips - except for a brief period of Qifrey going solo travelling while he was defending his Master’s thesis - long enough to disregard such nonsense. The house was beautiful, too, with 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a small rooftop garden. It’s bigger than what they needed, but the sunlit stained windows and the carefully cultivated vegetable patches had convinced both Qifrey and Olruggio, after much looking. And it turned out, the size was pretty much perfect, as the spare room was regularly used by their friends, and afterward, changed into a small makeshift classroom for Qifrey’s students when they came to have a tutorial lesson. The parents approved of this, of course, when they knew the house had not just an Alpha, but a pretty much a stay-at-home Omega (haha). I’d watch the kids, sure, he shrugged, over wine and home-made pasta, right before the first day that Aggott came by to have her maths lesson. See if there’s any funny business going on. It’s a joke, they both knew, for his deadline was coming soon, and he’d been pulling all-nighters for too long to supervise the lessons all the time.
I’m glad it’s you, still. Qifrey smiled, warm and sincere, and what was he to do with that except downing another cup of wine? They both have made a home out of this house, routines and all.
Anyway, the point was that, when Olruggio’s heat came, it was Qifrey who took care of him: cleaned his mess, cooked him meals, brought him inhibitors. He was taken care of, so thoroughly.
“I mean,” Alaira rested her head on her hands. “ I can’t even take care of my own girlfriend this carefully. He must love you a lot, Olly.”
“Ugh,” he groaned. “I’m too sober for this right now. You are here to help me with the manuscript. Not to meddle into things that are not real.”
“Sh, I can multitask. Besides, it’s not meddling if you two bring us into this mess.” Alaira laughed. “You are such a lightweight, Olly. Remember that.”
“Fuck.” Olruggio groaned even louder. “I hate you.” He really should tone down his drinking session with her, because she has a bad habit of poking, and he has a spilling everything out under no pressure at all.
“You love me. And Qifrey.”
“Yea.” It’s an easy admission. It's not the first time she heard this, anyway. “I do.”
The air was silent, then Alaira sighed. “I really don’t get you guys. Whatever floats your boat, I guess. Now give me the manuscrip.”
He obliged, glad to escape this conversation. Because even though it’s not that hard to explain, it still hurt to let the words into real existence, that all the care was proof that Qifrey did not love him. Well, he did, but he was not in love with him. Throughout his heat, and plenty more, Qifrey kept his composure - his gaze and hands never wandered far too much, and his hugs and cuddles were warm but never heated. Even if he had a hard-on, Qifrey would just kiss him on the temple, and politely remove himself from the nest until he kept things under control.
And that kinda sucked. A lot.
But what else could he do? His heart and soul have been bound to Qifrey, even if the man himself didn’t know it. The months that Qifrey went away without telling him, there was this gaping hole that threatened to swallow Olruggio whole. He did not tell anyone this, but Olruggio did try, once, to fall in love with another man. It was a brief stint - the guy was charming enough, Qifrey-like enough, that he naively thought it could at least ease the pain in his heart. But when they tried to have sex, when his ex touched him, warm hands on bare skin, Olruggio immediately vomited for an hour. His body rejected the illusion he tried to build, like an adverse reaction. When he was done,his body reeked of sadness and desperation. His ex, bless him, stayed until he was relatively stable, but after that they both knew it was going nowhere. And so Olruggio returned to the inhibitors and the patches and the longing in his body, crafting a plan to find Qifrey. Never say that Olruggio was not an idle man in his pursuit. But, luckily for him (and everyone else who knew him), Qifrey returned before he could buy the plane ticket.
But he’d already terminated his rent contract, and sold most of his items.
And so, they decided on being housemates.
How nice it is, housemates. Which means they will be in each other’s orbit once more, lives entwined and undivided, even if it just means sharing the same roof.
Olruggio, with practiced ease and grumbled denials, accepts the fact that this is what they are, and this is what they will ever be.
Qifrey’s job is a Maths teacher. He teaches at a secondary school, but on the weekend, there’s a small, private classroom in their house for 4 little girls. First it was Agott, then Tetia, then Richie, and now Coco.
Everytime when he tells Olruggio they’ll have another student visiting, Qifrey looks apologetic, but not apologetic enough to guarantee no reoffense. Olruggio hems and haws, as the room is small enough, and they are rowdy enough, but ultimately he relents. For this is the purpose of the classroom - not to push them to gain better academic scores, but to give the girls a place of refuge in the long hours of waiting after school.
Agott was the start, truly - she was the daughter of another teacher, Adina, who was unfamiliar and struggling in her role as a Head of Department and a newly single mother. Therefore, when other kids come home, Agott would spend hours and hours in the school's library, waiting for her mother. The librarian was kind, but she could not oversee a child’s every need. Qifrey saw her one day, lonely and hungry, curled up in a chair bigger than her size. It was around 9 p.m, and the librarian had gotten off their shift - she had a family, too; the doors were not locked, but most of the lights had been shut. Adina had not finished her work, Qifrey knew that as he saw her preparing for the incoming inspection. Qifrey knocked the door, loud enough to announce his presence, and asked Agott if she wanted to have some snack. The little girl looked at him, wary at first until he showed his teacher’s badge, and nodded. Then, things tumbled, like snowballs. Adina was a practical person, and she showed her gratitude with him helping Agott by suggesting she pay for long-term waiting-together. Qifrey was torn: there was a child in need of help, but he could not wait around for that long. Olruggio was a capable man, of course, but he’s about to start a new book, and most of the household chores would be Qifrey’s for a while. Olruggio, kind, understanding Olruggio would accept it if he stayed with Agott, but then it’s Qifrey himself who wouldn’t be able to bear it.
And so, Adina made another suggestion: start a small classroom right in his house. That way, Agott could come over and do her homework before her mother could get her, and Qifrey could stay at home. Afterall, his house was conveniently in the neighborhood, far closer than Andina’s house, which was around 10km away, as she had not been able to sell it and buy a new one closer to the school.
“It’s…not really conventional, right?” He was hesitant, rightfully so. He knew that a lot of people open private classes in their houses without any permit or certificates, but Qifrey was not sure that letting a child staying at basically a stranger’s house for a prolonged period was a wise idea for anyone - even if he knew he wouldn’t do anything untowards. But the woman shook her head ever so slightly, face blank of emotion and negotiation.
“It’s either that or her staying here alone. I can’t take her home, and there’s no bus stop near us.” She paused. “I know you live with a partner, which is why I suggested this in the first place. He could be the one watching you.”
Not like he’d be doing much watching, Qifrey thought, humorously. He was not surprised that Adina knew about Olruggio. The woman was shrewd, and he did not hide it, having made several phone calls to remind his friend to eat the meal he’d made on time instead of just skipping lunch. No ordinary friends who lived apart from each other would do that.
A pause. Then, Qifrey asked. “ Did Agott know about this?”
“She does. It’s her suggestion, actually.”
He felt relieved at hearing that. Agott was a good kid, and she was wary of people, so he’s afraid she would feel like her opinion was not valued in this discussion if she was the last one to be notified of this change. “Good. Let me ask my friend, then.”
As he’d guessed, Olruggio, in his adorably contradictory fashion, grumbled and refused for the first 15 seconds, then changed his mind immediately when Qifrey’d revealed that if they didn’t, Agott would be alone in the library every night.
“Fine, fine! Tell her to come. But not to mess with anything in the house.”
Afterwards, he’d found out the reason that Agott proposed this idea was because she’d heard the librarian one day slip up about how she was staying past her time, and how it was a hassle to clean up the next day - just some absent-minded phrases that the adults didn’t think children would understand. But they did. And it hurt much more, for a child. And on a whim, as if she didn’t think her mother would take her seriously, Agott asked if she could stay with him for a while; the rest is history.
“It’s okay,” she shrugged, unused with the love and care being given so blatantly. “I was a bother to her, anyway.”
“No, no, Agott, you weren’t.” Qifrey shook his head, crouching down to look her in the eyes. “You were a perfectly polite and well-mannered kid who did not have any options but to stay there. You were not a bother, dear. You were a child.”
Agott looked conflicted, but she did mumble out a “Thank you, teacher Qifrey.” in the end. He really hoped that she understood that.
Things got better. While Qifrey knew this was just a glorified baby-sitting job, he tried his best to help Agott learn. She’s a smart girl, with curiosity and determination to boot. It’s always a pleasure teaching her. She also warmed up to the house, to him, and, surprisingly, Olruggio.
Turns out, he’s her favorite writer.
“Aren’t you a little bit too young to be reading my books?” Olruggio’s books were versatile in genre, but his most popular ones were the detective kind. When he heard that Agott had read his book “The crimson cloak”, his eyebrows scrunched up and he crouched down to look at her.
“It’s a bit graphic for children, and you are okay with it? Nobody’s forcing you to read it, right?”
“Yes, sir!” The girl was clearly flustered. “I mean, my classmates talked about it, but I checked it out on my own. I think the way the murderer hid the evidence was really clever - I thought about it all night and couldn’t find the answer!”
Olruggio squinted his eyes even more, as if he’s shortsighted, and then he sighed. “Fine, seems like it doesn’t traumatize you.”
“You know that we read even worse things when we were 12, right?” Qifrey, who was watching the interaction unfold with great amusement, interjected. “Mr- I-could-read-thriller-all-day.”
“Oh shut up, you.” Olruggio bit back, but no real anger. He then raised his hand for Agott to shake. “Glad you like it, dear. It's always nice to meet a true fellow lover of the genre.”
Agott shook on in, and looked like she was about to burst. Qifrey smiled to himself.
Before they knew it, the number of students in this private classroom had risen to 2, and then 3, and then 4. The girls would come here every afternoon, from 5 to 8 or 9p.m, before their parents came and got them. The house felt a bit smaller, and the atmosphere was a bit more livelier.
Like now.
“Ohhh, you’re so smart, Agott! That’s how you solve this problem!” Coco exclaims. She’s tilting her head to look at Agott’s notebook, so close that it’s as if she’s resting her head on Agott’s shoulder. The other girl has a slight blush on her cheeks.
“Stop that, Coco. You’re heavy.”
“Sorry.” Coco giggles, but makes no move to scoot back. On her side, Tetia also abandons her work, and leans back to look at the black hair girl’s answer.
“Ohhh, that’s true! Richeh, come look at this!”
“Hng. 1 Richeh point. But this is not the only solution.”
“Yea, teacher Qifrey says that there are 3 more! We have to think!”
“Then, how about we substitute X for the sum of this equation?”
“Hey, yea! Coco, good idea!”
Qifrey smiles to himself. All of them are smart, he believes that they can solve this problem by themselves. Suddenly, he hears a small bang in the kitchen.
“Is that Mr. Olly?” Coco asks. She’s the one who has the least interaction with Olruggio, as she’s just starting coming here for a few weeks. The first time the girl met him was when he was just finishing his latest revision, and was very grumpy. After that, Olruggio fixed her a cup of herbal tea, and Coco also realized that he was the author of her favorite book. (“What with children and reading books beyond their age?” “You were like that too, Olly, don’t be a hypocrite now.” “Ugh”) But she hasn’t talked to him a lot, because the next day was when Olruggio’s sudden heat started.
“Must be it. He’s always hungry after a long heat like that.” It’s Tetia.” Heats take up a lot of energy, and we should eat a lot after that. We were taught about that in the Sex-ed class, too. Don’t you remember, Coco?”
“Yes, but I have never met an Omega before, so it’s my first time seeing it.”
The girls are right. It is Olruggio, emerging from his room and probably ransacking the pantry. Qifrey closes his book, and tells them.
“Sorry girls, I’ll check on Mr. Olly a bit. Can you be a dear and finish the rest of the problem by yourselves before I get back?”
“Yea!” “No problem!” A chorus of agreement from the girls, and he is off.
When he gets to the kitchen, Qifrey smells the aroma of toasted bread first before anything else .Probably Olruggio’s fixing himself a sandwich - quick, easy, and fulfilling. Then, he sees Olruggio. The man is dishelved, black hair a wild bird nest, his stubble even more unkempt than usual. He’s wearing a worn-out T-shirt with some silly graphic about the protagonist of his book, courtesy of his fans, and the pants he puts on is past its prime, hanging low on his hips. In spite of the messy appearance, Olruggio’s eyes are bright and well-rested. There’s a rosiness to his cheeks, and the curl of his lips is delicate, showing that he is pleased with himself.
He is the most beautiful man Qifrey’s ever laid eyes on.
Flitingly, he looks at Olruggio’s nape - it is smooth and unblemished, ripe for taking. Most of the time, it’s hidden behind a collar, but when he’s home - in their home, he is unguarded. Qifrey’s so honored to be trusted, and yet -
“Qifrey?! Jeeze, you are like a cat. Somebody should put a bell on you.” Olruggio’s startled cry shows that he’s finally noticed him, and he beckons for Qifrey to come closer to the table. Olruggio himself has finally assembled the dish he’s making, and it turns out to be not just one sandwich, but 6, cut into small squares, so as to make choosing easier. He touches his own nape, a gesture that shows that he’s a bit shy to show his care this explicitly.
“The girls are here today, right? I was just making a quick snack for myself, but I kinda made a bit too much, so I think they’ll enjoy it.”
Qifrey smiles softly at his dearest friend.
“Of course they’ll love it. Mr. Olly makes it for them, afterall.” He tries the hardest not to read into it, not see this act as a kind of care a freshly out-of-heat Omega does to his pups. Still, his betraying heart sings. “I’ll bring it to them. But, before that, are you alright?”
Olruggio just shrugs. “I’ve been through worse, remember? Thanks for taking care of me, by the way. Must’ve been a hassle to drop everything on such short notice.” He touches his nape, once again.
“Nonsense.” Qifrey steps closer, and reaches for the hand on his nape, careful not to touch the still sensitive skin. He links his hand with Olruggio’s, and looks into his eyes.
“You would never be a hassle. Not to me.” He squeezes their hands a bit tighter, to make sure his feelings are conveyed through the warmth they share. “Not if it’s you.”
He can see the blush spreads on Olruggio’s cheeks, to his ears, all the way to the frail column of his neck.Qifrey refrains himself from looking more closely, knowing from the day they were children that the blush can even goes more downward, coloring Olruggio a lovely shade of pink. Qifrey chuckles fondly at the memory.
“Shut it, you brat, don’t go all sappy on me right now.” But Olruggio squeezes his hand in return, and after a pregnant pause, asks.
“Scent me?”
“Hm, yes.”
It’s been their habit from the first heat. Olruggio, overwhelmed from the sensation and afraid of the world, had refused to get out of his room, even after the heat had ended. When Qifrey came into the room, he too was flustered and worried, a tangled mess of limbs and nerves, but he was glad to be let in, instead of being rejected from the front door. He stood there, waiting to see if there’s anything he could help.
After a while, a mop of black hair emerged from the cocoon of blankets and pillows, and asked timidly:
“I know it’s weird but.. can you scent me?”
His heart broke - he had never heard Olurggio, his dear, sweet Olly, with that tone ever before.
“Of course,” he rushed to the side of the bed, where Olruggio had finally sat up, and looked at him hopefully. “I’m here, sweetheart. Let me scent you.”
“Thank you. It makes me feel calm.”
“No problem at all, I’m glad to help.” That was the first time he smelt Olruggio’s scent: the warm, smokey scent of the hearth in the winter night, mixed with the vanilla tone of old pages. Very atypical of an Omega, yet very him. Qifrey let out his own pheromone, a salty scent of the ocean before the storm, and felt Olruggio visibly relaxed beside him.
And another unspoken rule in their entwined lives was established, as easy as breathing. They still keep it up now, with Olruggio resting his head near Qifrey’s clavicle, and Qifrey lets himself pull the other man into a loose hug, while his own pheromone wraps them in a bubble. Their chests rise and fall in tandem, and for a few moments, they are two halves of a whole.
Another beat, then Olruggio’s stomach grumbles. The moment breaks, and he lightly pushes himself away from the hug. The tint of pink is still present, but much more subdued.
“Go, bring them the sandwiches.Don’t let my hard work go to waste.”
Qifrey hides his own lingering melancholy, and straightens himself up.
“Definitely, I’ll tell them it’s Mr. Olly’s special treat!”
“Don’t you dare!”
Qifrey laughs at the empty threat before going back to the makeshift classroom, the plate of sandwiches in hand. The girls, having finished their maths problem, are now talking animately among themselves.
“But.. aren’t teacher Qifrey and Mr.Olly mates?” Coco’s curious voice rises above the rest, as if surprised at the information. He pauses. It would be a bit weird if he interrupts right now, being the subject of gossip himself.
“They aren’t. I saw Mr. Olly’s neck once, there’s no mark. And they don’t wear wedding rings like my parents, either.”
“Does it matter?” Agott cuts in. “They are still teacher Qifrey and Mr.Olly.”
“Yea,” Richeh assents. “Not all people are alike, nor are all children alike.”
But,” Coco again. Her voice is quieter now. “ I just think they suit each other so well.”
There’s a pensive lull in the conversation, like the girls are trying to find an answer the the peculiar question that is their teacher and Mr. Olly. However, Qifrey busts right through the door that moment, not wanting them to dig deeper.
“Anyone’s hungry?”
“Oh, yes!” “Yay, sandwiches!” “I want the one with the beacon!”
A bit of commotion happens, as the girls line up to choose what they want. Olruggio knows them well, and there’s a variety of filling for each sandwich. Coco, still so new to the mid-break snacks, shyly takes one and thanks Qifrey.
“Thank you, teacher. And how’s Mr. Olly?” It seems like she has not forgotten his original intention when going to the kitchen. What a kind girl she is. Qifrey smiles.
“He’s alright, now. In fact, he’s the one who makes the sandwiches for you all.”
“Really!?” The little girl’s eyes brighten.
“Hm, Olly usually makes a range of fillings, but since he doesn’t know what you like just yet, he just adds a few basic ones. But, you can tell him next time to let him know what you want next time, alright?”
“Thank you, teacher! I will!”
And with that, Coco runs back to her waiting friends, laughing and talking about what she should try next. But at the end of the lesson, when they have their final break before their parents pick them up, Qifrey sees that Coco is looking at him, like there’s a puzzle to be solved.
Hm, still hung up on the topic in the afternoon, he guesses.Many people have wondered that, he’s sure: Beldaruit, Olly’s mother, their classmates, and even Olly himself. He does not talk to her about that, though, nor any of the girls. In fact, this is a puzzle only he knows the answer for:
He does not deserve Olly, and as his own self-inflicted punishment, he will never be able to have him as his mate. Ever.