Aphmau Boyfriend Scenarios

How you meet [MCD]

[I apologize for how sloppy this is structured. I typed it up on docs and Wattpad was being mean. So, again, sorry!]  

Laurence ~ 

Most of the windows of the church are stained glass. They hold beautiful images, each crafted carefully and without mistakes. As a young girl, I could spend hours gazing up at the murals on glass and playing out my own stories. Then, I became bored by the same old pictures. Now, I feel I'd do anything to go back there.

My village burned down a few weeks ago. My father and I traveled across many villages, looking for a place to stay. Recently, we came to settle in a village near a swamp called Meteli. With the unfortunate death of their passed priest, my father has taken the job. We reside at the back room of the church until we can find a proper home.

It's a kind village, but I miss my real home.

My father relies on his faith, his belief in the Matron, to come to terms with the destruction of our home. But to me, I can't ignore the reckless and ruthless abandon of bandits who burned my home to the ground.

I've become so angry I can't believe myself. My father tells me that we must always make the most of what we have and continue to better the world, but I want the bandits to pay.

"Papa, please! We can't let them get away with what they've done. We should attack them in their camp at night, like they did us, and—"

"(Y/n), stop," my father commands. We sit at the small round table in the back room of the church. Behind us are the two couches we sleep on and the meal we eat is from a nice lady who brought it to us when she came to pray earlier today.

"Being vengeful won't bring back our village," he says. He tries to sway me, but I won't hear it.

"No! It won't bring back our village, but it will make those bastards think twice before they senselessly burn down another!"

He eyes me. I can see the blatant disapproval in his eyes. He returns to his plate, ignoring me.

I stand up abruptly, nearly knocking over my chair. Without a word, I storm from the room, then from the church.

It's early night out, and most of the villagers are in their homes, resting for the next day.

Enraged, I stomp to the docks. There are only a few boats there, empty and tied to their posts.

"Argh!" I growl as I kick one of the posts. Pain shoots through my foot and up through my leg. "Ah! Ow!"

I grasp my foot, trying to sooth the pain by massaging it with my thumbs. As the pain slowly begins to fade, my eyes lock onto the post.

"Stupid! Stupid— thing!" I can't even speak, but I do pick up a stick and chuck it at the post. It flies past it and lands in the water with a splash.

"Ah!" I yell out.

I spend a few more moments yelling out to the murky sea before I collapse down to the wooden dock. I sit at the edge and dangle my feet over the water.

"Whoa. You really showed that post a lesson."

I turn, surprised. A man stands there holding an emerald sword. He wears a guard's chest plate, so I figure he must be a village guard. I turn back to the water.

"Yeah. . . Owed me money."

"Ha!"

I hear him approaching. His standard issue guard boots click along the dock's wooden floor. He stops beside me and sits against a post. He lays his large sword down on the dock beside himself.