Mila
patreon
Chess Piece ⇢ A Dempsey
🕑 Added 2022-03-02 17:11:54 +0000 UTC“There’s a crack in my bishop,” A mumbles absentmindedly, their thumb brushing over the top of it.
They watch as you arch an eyebrow. “Your what?” you question.
“The chess piece,” A confirms in a light voice, sliding another one off of the board as they pack it away.
“So, you do have hobbies,” you tease.
A doesn’t hesitate to roll their eyes at that, an expression they’re used to showing everyone, especially you; especially when it comes to irritating comments.
“Shocker, I know,” they mutter back to you, glancing over their shoulder to watch you take a seat on the empty chair close to their desk.
A didn’t invite you to their apartment, admittedly, they’ve thought about doing so once or twice – but they still have that ‘do I actually enjoy your company? Am I doing more than just tolerating you?’ streak within them whenever they think about you. It’s a 50/50 choice. A yes or a no. Yet, you somehow have them completely scrambled.
“Is chess your thing then?” they hear you ask in a soft voice. “Do you play it often?”
The questions are enough to pull A out of their small trance. They force themselves to not sink further into one when they realise that you fit perfectly with their room’s aesthetic. Not by the style of your clothing, just the fact that it looks like you belong in their presence: in their bedroom with their most sentimental possessions, with all the things that they wouldn’t share with anyone… maybe sharing them with you wouldn’t be terrible.
“Not really often,” A blurts out to stop their mind wandering further down a hole they definitely don’t want to go down. “The other three are shit at it.” You notice the hint of a smile curl over A’s lips at that comment when they mention their friends. “It’s a logical game, I usually play by myself or FaceTime my dad and play it with him.”
It's a new dose of information, one you find yourself pouncing on. “Your dad,” you say, as though you’re testing out the word, as though you’d never associate a dad with A. “You don’t really mention him much.”
A stays silent at that. Falls into the chair opposite you before leaning back. “I didn’t realise that I was required to share stuff about myself.”
“You don’t have to,” you shoot back, “I just mean in comparison to how much you talk about the Greek side of your family, is all.”
Hazel eyes bore into yours. Months ago, A would have brushed the comment off, brushed you off, wouldn’t have even let you through the front door; yet here the two of you are, talking about the parts of themselves that they keep under wraps.
“It’s not an intentional thing,” A murmurs. “The human side of my family isn’t the same as the supernatural side.” The tilt of your head pushes them to continue. “They don’t see me as just a demigod(dess) who stupidly missed out on full supernatural benefits.”
“Oh.”
A watches as your eyes soften slightly and they deadpan before letting out a groan. “You’re not going to get all sympathetic with me, are you?” It’s a rhetorical question because A shrugs. “I got over it, it never bothered me.”
You hum, sway from side to side in the spinning chair. “Never bothered you because you’re strategic and logical?”
“Because I don’t let thoughts and emotions affect me.” Those words don’t fall from A in the strong tone they’re used to speaking in, their voice wavers and they know why. Over the past few weeks, feelings have been hard to decipher… because of you. The thoughts of wanting you around, to have normal conversations that don’t just consist of the missions they’re sent out to do, or university stresses the two of you are facing.
You let your eyes scan over their face, watch them do the same to you. Silence washes over you, A’s mouth moves as though they’re going to say something, but they gaze away for a brief moment.
You wet your lips. “You have a few walls up,” you mumble, “it’s okay if a few feelings get through them, whether they’re good or bad ones.”
A knows that. They do. It’s just that they’re not accustomed to it. To letting emotions in, to letting them feel so much and then acting upon them – if they were then this situation would probably be different.
They’d be sitting next to you, offering you a smile… asking you on a date even.
But that’s a step too far.
Many steps too far.
Because A is all about logic and strategy. Like a chess piece.
