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Vil sat behind Jamil with his legs in butterfly. He weaved his hands through Jamil’s well brushed hair and parted it. He checked his reference image one last time before continuing on. The brunette’s hair was quite thick but it is hard to tell from first glance, genetics he supposed. The hair reflected the light and could slip through your fingers like the scalding sand’s famous silk.
Jamil sat still on the bed while his head weighed against his propped hand. His shoulders still remained a little tense but his breathing was slow. His eyelids occasionally fluttered when he shifted but never opened them. His breathing slowed as his body focused on other things and resting.
He didn’t have infinite rest time, but he didn’t mind this schedule with Vil. He would go to Pomefiore when others weren’t in the halls, then maybe talk or dance a bit with the other, then Vil would do his hair and sometimes would be talking about people being ridiculous or Jamil would sleep.
At first, when they did this one of them would just talk about something while hair is being done, but one day Jamil just drifted off and started doing it a bit more and Vil let him get his needed rest.
While he slept, rather than the usual lack of dreams, one did appear.
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It was just his first year and he was swamped, how the hell was he going to survive his third year. Y'know, this could’ve been great. It could have. But nepotism always finds a way to ruins other’s peace, as usual.
He picked up the loose bits from the ground. Somehow Kalim’s carpet got released and wrecked everything… So here he was.
Kalim hadn’t been hurt and ‘that was all that matters’, he supposed.
He tied up the trash bag and stood up. He tightened when stepping on his right foot, pain flaring in it. Suck it up, suck it up.
He treaded to the common space and fixed up the chairs with slight difficulty. Come on, it was just a sprained ankle, you’ve dealt with worse.
The next day, he swallowed his pain with a bit of hardly working medicine and made his way to class. Each step made him want to just sit and compress it until the pain went away.
“Use a fabric ankle brace,” a voice said in passing in the hall. The voice wasn’t as mean as others he heard. Was that for him? Jamil had considered that morning having one but couldn’t find his.
He turned to the sound of the voice, and the person had briefly paused when he looked over. Who did that person think they were commenting on it?
“Yeah I-,” Jamil almost retorted, but then he didn’t finish the thought. For one, the person didn’t seem like the budging or the one that accepts back-talk from most. And second, the words dried out of his throat.
The person had blonde hair that reached a bit past the ears with violet ends. He remembered seeing him at the ceremony, kind of hard to forget since it set off a weird feeling in him, and might've been a threat. His eyeliner was sharp and identical, and normally the style was used in an edgy way but he made it look sharp and almost elegant. The way he held himself, you could snap a picture at any moment and it could be sold for thousands or millions. But most of all, his face and presence just trapped him.
“I have one, but I let someone borrow it and they haven’t returned it,” he said with the return of his voice. “Also who even are you?”
That last comment made an eyebrow raise from the other. “Vil. Vil Schoenheit,” he replied. His voice was a bit low but stayed in the higher range which gave it a pleasing ring.
Snap out of it.
“Oh yeah, I remember you. Sorry I don’t really use my phone. I’ll get the brace back?” He was still skeptical of him and more now than before.
“You should before it aggravates. Now excuse me,” he turned on his literal heel and strutted over to the blonde with a hat.
He glanced once more then continued to class. Yeah he wasn’t really helping his ankle…. Also, who the hell.
—
“My, my. How generous of you today,” Rook said. Vil fell into step with him.
“I know he is rather busy, an ignored ankle will do no good,” the model replied simply.
Rook hummed. “He is rather pretty, non?”
Vil breathed out. He did have a good facial structure, beautiful hair with a nice style, good eye-makeup. Overall he was his type look wise, but he wasn’t sure about personality.
“Yes, I suppose he is.” He couldn’t deny that the other had clearly cared about their appearance to some extent.
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Vil approached Jamil after keeping a few tabs on him. He stayed around that Kalim boy a lot and was rather serious.
You quickly learn that he is a servant that is very overworked just by being in the talk loop or knowing Rook. Jamil is rather hardworking but it didn’t seem right, but he left him be most of the time.
However Kalim and Jamil had auditioned for a little school thing, and he immediately noticed Jamil’s dancing experience. Even though both took the same lessons, you could tell who tried practicing more in their free time.
However, Jamil held back. He understood the reason, but it was such a waste.
“If you do not have room in your dorm you may use this space to practice,” he told the brunette.
“I’ll think about it,” Jamil said with a nod. He left without a care but he saw the subtle muscle movement to the choreo from today.
Oh you… why must I feel the need to assist you.
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As time passed, Vil tried out sprinkling in a few compliments that weren’t made up. Each time, Jamil would stutter a bit and look away and move the topic away, god it was so sweet.
Of course Vil realized he liked him, how would he not know. So much potential that was forced down by others, but he knew Jamil would tap into it if he was allowed. Despite circumstances he did what he was allowed to at the max which was good.
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“Let’s just… keep this secret ok? You know what will happen,” Jamil said while placing down the tea.
Yes. It would be best. His fanbase would not appreciate this, and he was sure Jamil wouldn’t be advised of doing this. “We’ll act neutral, need to know basis. You know my schedule already and keep our visits private and unseen when we both have breaks.”
Jamil nodded. “I can’t promise I’ll visit or text often, y’know,” he warned.
“I can wait,” Vil replied curtly with a conversation ending snip, but what he meant was that he did not need a constant maintenance relationship, just a loyal one with him was all he needed from him when they couldn’t see each other.
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Jamil stirred awake, his eyes slowly adjusting to the light. He saw his reflection in the mirror and saw Vil pinning the last bits. This was actually a really nice hairstyle.
He glanced at the clock. 16 minutes remaining, not bad.
“This suits your face well,” Vil mused from behind him, placing his hands on his shoulders.
“Yeah, I like it,” he replied, slowly adjusting.
Vil sat himself down next to him, brushing the wrinkles in his fabric out. He placed two fingers under his chin and admired his work and the face. It was missing a touch.
“What.” Jamil said. Vil pulled him closer and kissed his cheek. He pulled away to see the dark mark on top of the gentle blush.
“Vil, this takes forever to take off you know,” Jamil began. Vil pulled him a bit closer and Jamil didn’t stop him and his hand drifted to Vil’s jaw.
“I have micellar water and wipes to spare,” Vil said with a slight smile, his lips finding the Viper’s.
“Oh my god,” Jamil sighed but responded and melted into the kiss.