"「愛」Identity V x Reader Oneshots"

Andrew ✨ Y/n

BELATED HAP BORN DAY seamothia
This is a slight angst, but its not because of Andrew, don't worry. Might contain some uh references to a certain game ehe
"Y/n"

            The night felt heavenly in Oletus's not-so-humble abode, quite unusual for the manor, especially in Andrew's perception. The gravedigger couldn't even  comprehend as he sat by his balcony, a clear sky of stars surrounding the earth with many constellations that portray a story from olden times. It was the only time he could see what the world has to offer with such leisure. Back then, all he did at night was search the ground below for hidden treasures left by carcasses, and not the sky above where the stars show their shine. The dark times were full of strangers, and oddly enough, despite the strangers that share their residency in the old, but livable manor, they all shared a need for financial support, some just riches. There was, however, one out of many that intrigued him. If it was not the riches, not the money they needed, what is it do they find? Their sad gloomy orbs of e/c didn't light up like others do, and their slightly dry lips couldn't utter a word, often a dwindling sadness etched on to their raspy, and airy voice. The survivor was none other than Y/n, or better known as "The Lost", one who had nowhere to go, only wandering.

             Springing from their mysteriousness were the warm nature of each survivor (except the insensitive lawyer), who showed the wandering soul kindness, but there was no emotion left for their heart. Edgar quoted, "What beautiful tones of h/c and e/c, left unsaturated by the grayness of their heart. When will its vibrancy reach its peak, and when will the shade of their figure turn gray? Like a white lily, I must say." Quite the sentence, but Andrew could find himself understanding the artist's remark. He watched the stars with a dazed expression, not noticing the figure  by the gardens.

            Their white dress flows, waltzing under the garden roofs, creating a mystical atmosphere where the belladonna's gazed upon the emptiness of their eyes. Ending with a sit on the floor next to the flowers of poison, they watched the sun arrive, the darkness slowly disappearing into light. Their eyes closed in silence, becoming slumber.

          Y/n was... a weird survivor. There was no doubt, people agreed, but the lingering sadness in their gestures had brought the survivor's closer. It was when Emma had arrived in the gardens, she seemed less surprised, knowing well that she'd find a sleeping Y/n by the floors of the garden. "Oh dear. I better get to my angel," Emma picked up the fragile looking Y/n and quickly offered the petite survivor to Emily's medical bed. "With how cold night was, she could have gotten a fever." Emma nodded with a smile, a smile of admiration as Emma checked up on her fellow survivor. "I'll be sure to tell Miss Nightingale that she's not ready for today," Emily said before closing the door.

          "Again? What a dumb girl," Freddie scoffed, like normal. "That isn't nice," Emily scolded the insensitive lawyer who cared less. "What happened to Y/n? Did she sleep in the garden again?" Luca asked, entering the dining room with his odd friends, Victor, Andrew, and Edgar. "Unfortunately, yes. She should really get a warning," Emily sighs, taking a bite of the Sticky Honey Roast that they had just made for breakfast. An unusual food for the morning.
"Is she okay?" Andrew asked, fiddling with his gloved thumbs. "She's resting in the medical bed at the moment, so no need to worry," The doctor said. "Weird girl, always getting herself excuses. When was the last time she played a match?" Naib asked the table. "Naib, she played one yesterday," Martha replied with a deadpanned face.
"Say, after you eat, you can come tend to her, while I enter a match. Here, give her a slice of that and go on your merry way after you eat," Emily smiled, handing him off the plate and bringing hers to the kitchen.

           "Isn't it lovely? A day with your crush," Luca snickered, watching Andrew's pale skin turn to a flustered shade of red, laughing as he turned away from Luca's view. "Don't worry, Andrew," Victor grins, bashfully looking at the sheepish survivor. "You'll survive!"

           Upon arriving at the medical quarters of the manor, they find the soft survivor of their dreams, peacefully sleeping, hands clasped by their stomach with no strength, breathing normally as a living human should, and calmness in their closed eyes. "Wow," Andrew whispered to himself, reaching for a chair to sit on as he carefully placed the delectable meal by the table. "...-ther... brother," a soft whisper from their lips pulled the man out of his thoughts, now listening to the fine mumbles of the wanderer. "Don't go..." The survivor whispered with a whimper, their brows furrowed and lips agape. It was the most emotions they've seen so far, that... Andrew had remembered a crucial thing to consider. Y/n was still human, despite such tendencies. The shell that covers her must be broken as well as people cannot hold in a mask longer. The gravedigger then removed his glove. One of his hands move according to the wishes of his heart, hovering over the survivor's head, when he started to ease their pain, patting the survivor as their cries ceased, and the tension on her brows relaxed. Upon releasing his hand, they were seized with petite arms that held onto his warmth and eyes, unusually full of life. "A-andrew," they whispered. "I-im sorry, I shouldn't-," "Wait," The panicked survivor looked at the man, unusual did he speak without a stutter. "You can trust me," Andrew smiled gently, embracing the survivor without hesitation. "I-i'm sorry- I must be in your personal space," Andrew blushed. "N-no... wait," Y/n held onto his hand.
"I need you... so please, don't go."