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blackcherryvelvet0909 · 9 months

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Silent Reverence (Rollo x GN!Reader)

Content Warning: Mild injury, light angst (arguing), Glorious Masquerade event mentioned Note: Can you spot the two movie references in this fic?

“Irk!”

Your heart jumped at the sudden sound, then sank when you realized it was one of pain. “Do you need me to walk slower?” you asked, stalling your pace for a moment.

The man, whose arm was slung around your shoulder for support, practically hopping on one foot with you as his crutch, scoffed the suggestion. “You think me too weak to keep up such a undermanding pace?”

“That’s not what I-”

“I do not require such coddling.” Those dark, cold eyes stared ahead as he took one clumsy step - hop - forward. “Come - we are close to a seat.”

He said it as though he were the one leading you. Honestly, when did his audacity end? You kept your frustrations to yourself as you guided him along, right up to an empty bench near the pool. Thankfully the area there was shaded, or the concrete below your feet would have scalded both your heels by now. With zero grace, you both slumped onto the long bench; a sigh released from you two as the weight of the other was lifted as you separated. For a brief minute, you simply sat there and caught your breath. Before that respite was even over, however, you rolled your head to the side to look at the one beside you.

“Rollo,” he hazarded you a glance as you spoke, “do you want some water? You can sip on it while I go get some bandages; I don’t want you to get dehydrated.”

There was a flicker of irritation in those gray orbs, but he didn’t voice it for the time being. He just sighed as he leaned his head back against the wall behind the bench, sun hat now slumped to one side, and answered with, “If you would.”

Though your legs protested as you stood, you went out in search of the refreshing beverage. While you had to shell out eight madol for the small bottles of water, you didn’t complain. Instead, you quickly went back to Rollo and handed him one of the plastic bottles. He opened his eyes to greet you, and gave a small nod in what you supposed was thanks as he took it from you. You watched him hastily, yet elegantly open the bottle and take three big gulps. Just like that, half the water was gone - a third of yours was to follow as you drank from your bottle. After a deep exhale, you closed your bottle and spoke to Rollo again.

“I’m going to go to the lobby and ask the receptionist if they can lend me a first aid kit. I’ll be right back - don’t move.”

“Tch,” Rollo clicked his tongue with a roll of his eye. “As if I were fit to do anything more.”

So, off you went to get those medical supplies - all whilst trying to suppress the irritation that grew within you.

***

“Ah!” Rollo’s sharp yelp was followed by a hiss as he glared down at you. “That hurts!”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt if you’d stay still!” you shot back, tone just as cutting.

Rollo’s face morphed into a scowled as he practically growled in anger. “Well, you and those you call housewardens should have kept a closer eye on your students. If you had, I would not be in this predicament!”

It took all your strength not to throw the roll of bandages in his face. “You were the one running around the edge of the pool, where a ‘No Running’ sign was plastered on every wall. Riddle was just about to take care of Ace, and I Grim, when you came stomping over. As the president of your school’s student council, I thought you would pay more attention to bright white signs with big black letters and a slipping stick figure on them.”

Just as you were about to finish the tie on Rollo’s bandage, he suddenly stood. His hands were balled into fists, teeth grit so hard you thought they might crack. Despite that angry look, his tone was level, authoritative - he spoke to you as if you were some child. “I have had quite enough of you. Step aside - I will seek care else-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you shot up in front of him, face mere inches from his. Your eyes were like knives as they bore into him, pierced his very soul. So, too, was your voice level and demanding, though it came with a pointed edge that, if you were calm enough, would shock even you. “Sit down and shut up.” Rollo’s scowl melted into a stunned look, likely because no one had spoken to him in such a way before. He said not a word as he kept your stern gaze and slowly lowered himself back onto the bench. You followed him down, and when you knelt before him again, you threatened, “Move out of that seat, speak to me like that again, and I’ll give you something worse than a sprained ankle.”

There was a long silence between the two of you after that. In that time, you finished wrapping Rollo’s ankle, which had now begun to bruise. You were tempted to tie the knot a little tighter than what was required, just to get back at him, but you refrained. Despite how he spoke to you, Rollo was injured - you couldn’t be too petty. When you made sure the knot was secure, you quietly packed the bandages and pain relief ointment back into the little bag the receptionist had given you. As you closed the bag with the snap, you said, “Your ankle will probably swell a bit for a few days. Just keep off of it as much as you can; if it gets too painful, or if the bruise becomes worse than normal, you might want to see a doctor.”

You didn’t even look up to see if Rollo heard you; his eyes had been upon you since he sat down, so you knew you had his full attention. As you stood from your spot on the ground and dusted off your knees, you added, “I’ll tell you vice president and assistant where you are. You said they were by the lazy river?”

“...yes.” Rollo’s voice was hushed, as though he were hesitant to answer.

“It shouldn’t take them too long to get here and help you up then.” You still refused to look at him as you turned to leave. “Hope your ankle heals soon.” You took a step away from the bench -

“[Y/n].”

You froze at the sound of your name - of Rollo calling you by name. In the past, he only called you Prefect, or some other formal title you couldn’t recall. Sometimes you even wondered if he knew your name; his utterance of it just answered your suspicions. For the first time in the past several minutes, you glanced over at him. His expression appeared monotone, the usual for him, but there was a distinct…softness about it. In those dark gray orbs was a plea for forgiveness - a hidden respect. Well, that was something you never expected, especially in your direction.

“Thank you,” his gaze flicked down to his ankle, “for your care.”

You pushed the surprise to the back of your mind as you gave a shrug of your shoulders. “There was a possibility no one else would, at least when it comes to the ones from NRC. While you did apologize at the end of the masquerade, there are many who don’t hold you in a high regard.” Your eyes narrowed in a show of warning. “Unless you start treating the students like you would your own, instead of dogs or, as you put it, ‘heathens’, that opinion will never change.”

“If you will permit me to ask,” your gazes locked once more as he questioned, “why is your opinion any different?”

You thought it over for a moment… “Honestly, I don’t know,” you admitted. A light chuckle fluttered at the edge of your words as you suggested, “Maybe I’m a sucker for punishment? It would fit for all things I’ve put up with since enrolling at the college - since I got there.” Although some of that previous frustration still lingered within you, a smile twitched at your lips. “Or maybe because, like me, everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves. You said you would repent for your mistakes, right?”

“That is my intention,” Rollo affirmed with a small nod of his head.

“Well, you have your chance.” You turned to leave, but not without a final warning. “Don’t screw it up with your ego.”

Then you walked away without another word. Rollo also remained silent, though you could feel his eyes follow you until you disappeared back into the hotel. They did not cut into your back like a knife, as they had many times before; instead, you felt as though it was out of something else. You couldn’t say what, however. For now, you simply let it slip from your mind as you went to inform Rollo’s cohorts of his accident. Maybe, just maybe, you could also convince Ace and Grim not to gossip about Rollo’s fall.

***

“Henchmen!” Grim called out from beside the door to your hotel room. “There’s a lady here - she’s got something for you.”

Your face scrunched in confusion as you approached the door. A bit of dread lingered in your heart as well. You really hoped it wouldn’t be something from Crowley, likely asking you to take on some task while you were supposed to be vacationing with the others. This was a school-wide trip, after all, and that included you. You swore, if this was yet another chore, you’d-!

“Can I help you?” you asked the lady at the door, in the most polite way despite the plots of doom that swirled in your head.

“These are for you.” The lady, one you recognized from the hotel lobby, presented a bouquet of flowers with a smile. It was huge! To prevent it from falling to the ground, you had to cradle it like a baby!

“U-Um…thank you?” You felt a little awkward at the whole situation. “Why am I receiving these?”

“A young man asked for them to be delivered to you,” she replied. “You can check the notecard in the flowers.” She gave you a small bow before she turned to depart. “Have a good day!”

“Y-You too.” You had to kick the door to close it - you didn’t want to risk dropping the flowers. Thankfully, Grim stepped out of your way as you headed to your bed, but he followed close behind.

“Why would someone send you flowers?” Those big blue eyes narrowed as he placed his paws on his hips. “What did you do?”

“No idea,” you answered to both his questions. Now sitting on the bed, you examined the bouquet closely. There were various types of flowers: pink roses, lavender, blue hyacinths, lily of the valley, white tulips, forget-me-nots. This was certainly an expensive bouquet, a well-crafted one as well. You were sure there was some meaning to them; not too long ago, Rook had expressed to you the language of flowers. You made a note to visit him later for an analysis. You plucked the notecard the lady had mentioned before and added, “But we’re about to find out.”

Grim hopped up onto the bed and took a seat next to you. You could feel him peek around you to try and get a look at the card - the one that now had your mouth agape. “What? What is it?!” Grim struggled to get a better look. “Let me see!”

His words were like whispers in the wind. The message was not exactly what froze you on the spot - it was the signature below it. The identity of the sender of this generous, meticulously crafted bouquet, specially made for you.

I hope this bouquet is not ill gotten by you; that it is sent at an inopportune time. I pray it finds you in good health, that it may express my gratitude for your service the day prior - and my deepest apologies for my behavior. I realize you are not one to be taken lightly…not one I should look down upon. These flowers are ones I grow in a garden back on my campus. Let them spell out the words I am unable to utter in your presence. Pray, too, that they are to your liking. May the rest of your days on this trip be filled with respite and peace.

-Rollo Flamm

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