Wren Bonus Story: Lab Safety (male Wren)

Wren’s study is buzzing with activity today, despite the fact that he and I are the only ones in it. I stopped by on a whim today, flopping down on the couch to chat with him, his quick mind handling both work and a full conversation with a dexterity I can't help but admire. Eventually I convinced him to let me join in – I’m not exactly invested in his current project, but playing assistant is a fun diversion on my day off.

“Hand me the bottle of purple liquid, would you?” he asks me now, not looking up from the small crystal cauldron perched on his desk.

“Dark purple or light?” I ask, scanning the shelves.

“Dark. And don’t listen to it if it whines.”

“Whines?”

“Yes, it-” but his voice is interrupted by a low hum that rapidly rises into a high pitched noise as I lift the glass bottle. I stand, transfixed, staring at it. It’s… unpleasant, but I can’t help but wonder what’s causing it.

I should probably stop listening. He said not to, but…

I bring the bottle up to my face and looking closer, see that the liquid is swirling quietly in place and beginning to bubble. I bring it even closer and see sparkles of silver that begin to feel as though they’re looking back at me. I open my mouth to ask Wren what the substance is-

He snatches it out of my hand. “Really, now,” he huffs.

“Oh- I-” I come back to myself in a rush and look up from my hands to see his dark eyes inspecting me closely, his brows knotted together.

“Safety is essential here,” he says, depositing the vial on the table with one hand and cupping my cheek with the other. “Even if this isn’t a full laboratory, the rules still apply, I told you that. I won’t have you being hurt,” his tone softens, as does his expression, and I realize I’ve actually frightened him.

I smile apologetically. “Sorry, Wren.”

He's silent for a second, then exhales sharply, turning and busying himself again with his work. “Why are you so impossibly difficult to remain cross with?” he mutters, a faint flush blooming at the tip of his nose and ears, the natural hue of his skin suddenly heightened.

"What can I say?" I joke, "I'm a real charmer."

“I can't argue with that," he says wryly, then declares, "No more assistant duty for you today. You can help me find passages on glowing nightshade instead. The books can’t hurt you, at least.”

“As you command, Archivist,” I grin, giving a little salute. "You know I live to serve."

"If it's orders you're in to, just ask, darling," he chuckles. "Don't go risking injury over it."

I laugh, and make my way over to the couch, settling in with a cup of tea. We’ll go to dinner later, stroll through the city and make the most of the evening. But for now I’m content to sit and enjoy the quiet atmosphere of the study, glancing up to watch Wren now and then as he picks apart the world’s mysteries.