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rosietrace · 2 months

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Favoritism?... No!..

(Central) Characters Featured: Trinity Valentin, Harlan Westerly

↳ { Harlan belongs to @mystery-skulls-ghost }

Others mentioned/featured: Maxwell Murray, Samuel, Walton Morrigan

↳ { Max and Samuel belong to @terrovaniadorm }

Pairing: Harlan Westerly & Trinity Valentin

Event: Valentine's Day 2024 💌

↳ Type: Birthday Oneshot! 「 Happy birthday, Erin! 」

Synopsis: Trinity does not have favoritism for her boyfriend! What made you think that? (Aka, moments that explain her unabashed favoritism)

Warning(s): Potentially ooc, Trinity being a clingy bitch /j, inaccurate depictions of baking, Walton is his own warning, implied manslaughter, overall very fluffy

[ Apologies for any out of character moments ]

[ Reblogs > Likes ]

†•°•══════ஓ๑「💄」๑ஓ══════•°•†

“Ugh, Walton, shut your face already.”

Trinity ignored the deadpanned look on Walton's face, continuing to mix the vanilla cake batter with utmost brutality.

“I didn't say anything, Trin,” Walton had pointed out, taking a sip of his energy drink. “It was you who was annoyed enough to pretend I did.”

Trinity gave him a sharp glare. “I said shut your face, not mouth.”

Her snarl got a chortle out of Walton. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Trin.”

Trinity rolled her eyes at him, placing the batter onto the baking pan and placing it into the oven.

“You’re lucky you're more tolerable than Samuel.”

“Not that hard,” Walton leaned against the kitchen counter, humming to himself. “The little ingrate makes it easier to be more tolerable than him.”

At least that was something they could both agree on.

“Finally, you say something smart,” Trinity dusted off their hands on their apron.

Walton wanted to retort a reply to that remark but didn't. Bothering Trinity Valentin was less of a hobby and more of an everyday inconvenience — one that he didn't have any energy to succumb to, at the moment.

It was better for him to give them his signature condescending smile and leave than to create an argument that got them in trouble with Maxwell.

When he left, Trinity breathed out of relief. Finally, he's gone.

Then again, Trinity sat near the oven to watch their cake go into its baking stage. I'd have throttled him if he stayed around a moment longer.

While she was waiting for her cake to finish baking, Trinity left for the pantry to get a little snack. The cake wasn't set to finish until after 25 to 45 minutes, at most, so Trinity had little to worry about.

After getting her snack, she returned to the kitchen to find Harlan looking through the fridge.

Trinity's eyes beamed in delight, rushing to their boyfriend's side with excitement.

“Harly!” Trinity exclaimed, clinging to Harlan like he was a koala. He paid no mind to it, continuing to look through the fridge.

“Trinity,” was Harlan's curt response to her koala hug. Noticing the slight discomfort in his stance, Trinity had pulled away from their one-sided embrace and smiled warmly.

“You doin’ okay, Harly?” No one really knew why Harlan put up with Trinity's constant usage of that nickname for him, but he did.

He nodded. “Simply looking.”

Cocking their head to the side, it didn't take long for Trinity to put two and two together and figure out what he meant.

They stifled their laughter. “Main fridge ran out of that abomination drink, Harly.”

Harlan hummed, his eyes narrowing at the internal storage of the fridge. “So it would seem,” he replied.

Trinity giggled, dragging him to their dorm room. “Don't worry, Harly! I have a full stock in my room!”

“You do.”

“Of course I do!”

“That's….”

“Now, before you say anything, Harly,” Trinity opened the door to her room, revealing the 90s y2k fever dream it was to Harlan. “I only bought a full stock to indulge in your weird obsession with it.”

Harlan nodded, entering the room and narrowing his eyes at the y2k vomit that was Trinity's room.

“Your room,” he breathed beneath his… Well, breath. “It's very…”

“Creative?”

“Decorative.”

Trinity pouted. “Harly, is that a good thing or not?”

Harlan blinked. “Interpret it however you wish,” he said simply, being handed the energy drink by his partner.

“You're no fun sometimes, Harly,” Trinity pushed the rim of his glasses back a bit. “Loosen up a bit.”

Harlan stared at them, blank-faced and silent.

A breath was let out, and Harlan ruffled Trinity's slightly messy hair before he left their room — making their hair all the messier.

But to say Trinity was unhappy was a horrible assumption.

•🎀°─────────°🎀•

“I'm telling you,” Walton said honestly, “you, young Trinity, are a person obsessed.”

Trinity scrolled her phone, legs crossed as she laid down on the couch. They chortled to themselves, brushing off Walton's words like they were nothing.

Which, in their eyes, they did meant nothing.

“Bullshit,” Trinity declared, “also— Don't call me ‘young Trinity’.”

“I'm your upperclassman.”

“Doesn't mean you should call me that.”

“I feel like I'm obligated to give a friend of mine a nickname, Trin.”

“When have we ever been friends?” At most, the two of them were civil acquaintances.

Walton shrugged, his expression telling them that he always figured that notion.

The very thought made Trinity want to vomit, which was apparent from the look on their face.

They gagged just by thinking about it for too long. “I'd rather hang myself than deal with you for longer than necessary.”

“Good for you,” Walton's eyes rolled, his focus shifting back to that abomination in his hands that he called an ‘invention’.

Not wanting to waste any more time with her weirdo of an upperclassman, Trinity made a beeline to the dorm rooms to hang out with Harlan because… Well, she can.

She raced around each hallway, disregarding every other room and treating ‘looking for Harlan’ like it was a personal mission; One that Trinity was determined to succeed at.

Of course, when Trinity saw Harlan standing before the door that definitely didn't lead to his room, their eyebrows knitted themselves together.

What the hell? Trinity slowed down their movements, instead of racing towards their boyfriend they strode.

Their head cocked to the side curiously, their arms folded over their chest. What could Harly be doin' there?

“Harly?” Once she got close enough, Trinity called out to him. “Honey, you doin' okay?”

Harlan took one look at Trinity, then turned his attention back to the door in front of him. He was mumbling some sort of observation, but he was too quiet for Trinity to properly hear.

However, based on the scent that was reeking from beyond the door, Trinity knew exactly whose room it was: Walton's.

“Harly,” head cocked to the side in slight concern, they tapped his shoulder to grab his attention.

“What do you think is beyond that door?” Harlan refused to tear his gaze away from the door, a look of intrigue plastered all over the face that Trinity cherished with all their heart.

“Uh,” Trinity paused, considering how to answer that sort of question. “Well, it's Walton's room, plus, it stinks like shit from here, Harly.”

“Why do you ask?”

From behind the lens of his glasses, Trinity saw Harlan’s eyes narrow.

“... Decay,” he uttered, “possibly remains of an unknown specimen, likely rotting for the past two — maybe three — days…”

Harlan found Trinity's hand, clinging to it in such an uncharacteristically gentle manner.

Trinity wondered what was going through his head. After silently speaking of speculated ‘decay’, Harlan was off in his own little world; Monologuing in a comfortable silence whilst holding their hand.

It was both endearing, if not a little unnerving.

Trinity loved Harlan, truly, they did, but it always seemed to frustrate them to no end that — at times — they couldn't seem to figure out what was going on in that unreadable brain of his.

The current moment they shared happened to be one of those happenstances.

Frustrated from standing near the disgusting stench of Walton's dorm room door for too long, Trinity's grasp on Harlan's hand had tightened as they dragged him to the dorm kitchens to help them bake…. I don't know, cookies.

It was only at that moment when Harlan's gaze tore away from the door and drilled itself through Trinity.

The unusually hypocritical and seemingly emotionless boy had always found an interest in the person dragging him to the kitchen.

In a way, they held their similarities. Harlan didn't know what those similarities were, but he could sense them.

Feel that urge to cling to Trinity for God knows what reason.

For once, Harlan was willing to put his own speculations aside.

And it was all for Trinity.

•🎀°─────────°🎀•

Trin, you biased little…

Walton wasn't even surprised at this point.

Seeing Trinity be so enthusiastic about Harlan helping her bake cookies was basically an everyday occurrence.

“Harly, stop drinking that abomination and help me put in the chocolate chips!”

“Do you think-”

“Honey, I love you, but I do not have time to deal with your little theories about fae species. We'll talk about that another time.”

Trinity patted Harlan's cheek, and not even a second later, they kissed his cheek. It wasn't even close to a slap, and yet — there they were — pecking Harlan's cheeks as a form of ‘apology’.

Once the chocolate chips had been set and the cookies were eventually put in the oven, Trinity gave Harlan a winning smile. “Any snacks you want me to make while we wait?”

“Is that necessary,” Harlan seemed to deadpan.

“Oh, let loose a little, Harly,” Trinity giggled. Heading to the fridge, they looked back at Harlan.

Then came the question: “Anything you want in particular?”

Harlan let himself stand still, a sullenness hanging between him and Trinity. He blinked, shaking his head.

“As long as it isn't yogurt,” Harlan answered dismissively.

Trinity sighed, taking out the energy drink she had kept for ‘emergencies’ and pouring Harlan a glass.

“I don't get why you keep drinking this shit,” their face twisted just from looking at it for too long. “It's got the color of a glowstick…”

“We all have our opinions,” Harlan stated, taking a sip.

Trinity hummed, leaning against the counter beside him to drink a glass of water. “You're lucky I love you,” they smiled up at them.

Harlan didn't reply much to that, only placing his hand over Trinity's well-combed hair and ruffling it a bit. This, in turn, gave him the consequence of dealing with an over-affectionate Trinity while the cookies were still baking.

Not that that was anything new.

“And they say they aren't biased,” Walton murmured beneath his breath.

Max sat across from Walton, putting down their slice of pizza so the two of them could briefly share a moment of staring at the couple in the kitchen.

The housewarden and the inventor shared a look, coming to a silent, mutual agreement.

Favoritism is Trinity's middle name.

†•°•══════ஓ๑「💄」๑ஓ══════•°•†

Taglist

Dedicated to: @mystery-skulls-ghost

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🥥

@starry-night-rose || @jasdiary || @authoruio || @nem0-nee || @fumikomiyasaki || @sakuramidnight15

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「 Etteilla ♢」

@terrovaniadorm || @twsted-princess || @geminiiviolets || @abyss-wonderer || @twistedsongstressofstarz / @absolutelyobsessedkiya