Alois x Reader One Shots

ch.7 - speak to me {soulmate au}

In which a message is written on your wrist, altered each day at 12am, holding the last message your soulmate said before the time limit that day.

//

"Claude, fetch my rain napper, will you?"

"What's her name?"

"I want him."

"I'm scared."

"Luca, are you out there?"

"Kill him."

"How old is she?"

"Don't leave me!"

"It's dark."

"Why him?"

"Where is she?"

"You're not lying, are you?"

"Shut up!"

"You filthy bitch."

"Disgusting."

"Tell me about her."

"Get him!"

"What does she look like?"

"You're joking, right?"

"Is she pretty?"

"I want that."

"Claude, can you even cook?"

"This tea is disgusting."

"Ouch!"

"Who even are you?"

"Are you supposed to be relevant?"

"I need new shorts."

"I want to find her."

"That's such a cute dog!"

"I'm going to find her."

"Ciel, you look like a frog."

"Whatever do you mean?"

You had written down every message that appeared on your wrist.

It was quite a common thing to do, but you felt like each word you wrote pulled you both one step closer to each other.

You found his words hilarious. They held an aura of fearlessness and excitement.

Even the threatening and rude statements seemed so cheerful.

You guessed his personality was cute and excessive, but scary and mysterious when angered.

'Kill him.'

Your eyes wandered across the words, thinking hard.

Perhaps he was in the mafia? Maybe he was an assassin? A murderer? An officer in Scotland Yard? Did he work for the Queen?

You weren't worried. He would never hurt you.

Claude... Who was Claude? Luca? Ciel, too?

Family? Friends? Enemies?

So many questions remained unanswered. You dearly wished you could meet him.

He was so precious to you and yet you didn't even know his name.

Something posh? Something strange? Something simple? Something formal?

Your head hurt with all the questions thrown your way.

You wondered where he was. You wanted to meet him at least once.

There was a dull ache in your chest at the thought of never stumbling across such an angel.

You guessed his hair colour was something eccentric, something bright. Blonde? Perhaps ginger?

And his eyes, they would most certainly be a shade that stood out. Electric blue? Light green? Pale violet? Blood red?

You stopped yourself. Your head ached.

With a sigh and a pressure on your brain that made you feel lightheaded, you pushed your notebook aside and leaned back on the delicate wooden chair.

The wonderful aroma of savoury food lingered in the air and your eyes scrutinised a small authentic restaurant across the road.

You were currently outside a bakery style cafe on the large eyrie on the second floor, overlooking the high street shops.

Hurriedly, you forced down the rest of the darjeeling tea you had ordered and set the teacup down.

It was turning 12am in five minutes.

You pushed back your chair and gathered up your notebook and pen.

The young cashier smiled and thanked you for coming as you paced down the stairs. You smiled politely in return and pulled open the door, listening to the bell above chime cheerfully.

"Please come again!"

The streets outside were busy. Various children gathered around a rather small-looking toy shop labelled 'Funtum Toys', mulling over a cute rabbit plush presented in the window.

The teddy was light grey and decently small, adorning a cute eye patch and a large silk bow tie.

It was dressed in an adorable blue waistcoat with light green stripes and large gold buttons.

You eyed the tag. 'Funtum Company Limited Edition Bitter Rabbit', it read. Your eyes flickered to the price label.

£2

You cut your (E/C) hues at it. So expensive, you thought with a huff.

You were a sucker for plushies, but this was way too costly. You'd have to work for at least a month or two just to get it.

You slipped your hand into your pocket and pulled out an expensive-looking pocket watch.

11:59

"Claude, I want that plushie!"

You smiled.

"Same." You murmured to yourself quietly, tapping the display glass.

12:00

Your eyes settled on your wrist.

'Claude, I want that plushie!'

Your head snapped up so quick, you were surprised you hadn't gotten whiplash.

A blonde-haired boy with a rather prominent cowlick stared at his wrist in bemusement, and then his bright blue eyes flickered to yours.

"You!" He cried, and latched onto your wrist, eyes skimming across the words written there.

"You," he repeated again, warmer this time. "it's you."

He smiled a bright, enthusiastic smile and threw his arms open wide for a hug.

"I've been looking for you."