For months, and months and months, Veritas Ratio thought he despised you.

And to be honest? So did you.

Ever since the doctor first met you, he loathed the flush that would creep up his neck when you came close enough. The way his pupils would dilate in your presence. The unbearably frequent thoughts of you, all the time, whenever you weren’t there. They’re things he doesn’t have control over. And he loves control. But so does everyone, right? It feels safe, familiar.

Regardless of that appearance of yours he was so drawn to, Ratio was enamored by your wit. The way you effortlessly clapped back at someone spouting nonsense. Not exactly in a mean sense, just enough gentle correction that would make someone feel like they were being steered in a different direction by the time you walked away. However, despite your kindness, he was able to elicit such delicious reactions from you. From the crease between your eyebrows to the way you almost immediately argue back at him, he found it so, incredibly enjoyable. He’s never had such entertaining, intellectually stimulating conversations before.

Aeons above, you just had such a clever tongue, and it drove him insane.

Despite all of this, he kept his accumulated feelings fiercely hidden. The same ones that were so clearly plain, yet shoved under the carpet as if they didn’t exist. He was a prideful man, after all. It didn’t necessarily help that you were just as stubborn.

“You look distressed.”

He remarks, not even looking up from his codex. It seems your antsy energy has made it towards him across the library already.

“If something’s wrong, you can figure it out for yourself.”

He finishes nonchalantly, as if amused with the words coming out of his own mouth.