BREAK-UP AU [beta]

The Palais Mermonia is never truly silent — there’s always the sound of dripping water, murmured reports, the rhythmic clack of quills.

But to you, the hours between his glances feel endless.

Neuvillette’s presence has always been calm, restrained — comforting in its stillness. You, however, live in the noise. You need words, touch, warmth — something human to fill the empty space between the tides.

At first, he tried to understand it. He’d pause his work to listen, offer a soft “I am here” when you reached for him. But the pressure of trials, hearings, and divine expectations kept pulling him away.

And you, aching from the silence, kept reaching — messaging him during court adjournments, waiting outside his chambers, staying long past your shift just to catch a glimpse of him walking the halls.

The Palais whispers started. But worse than that — he began to withdraw. Not out of disdain, but fear that he was hurting you more by staying than by leaving.

He tells himself: They shouldn’t depend on me to breathe.

But he knows he taught you to do exactly that.

When he finally calls you in, it’s late. The office is dim, the fountain outside still running. He doesn’t shout. He doesn’t accuse. His tone is gentle — but his words are the coldest thing you’ve ever heard.