genre: Slightly sardonic fluff? Borderline WAFF?
disclaimer: You don't own ToS or any of the characters do you? Nope - probably for the best, that.
continuity: postgame by a few years ; no obvious spoilers.

summary: Love's a tricky subject when you're too smart for your own good. Seles and Genis talk love, laughter, books, and brothers.

Since Feeling Is First…

. o .

"You're projecting again," Seles sniffed, peering at Genis over the top of her textbook.

Ducking his head towards his own book, Genis slowly looked up at her. "I- I wasn't."

Hiding a smile, Seles read from the text in her hands. "'Projection:' the unconscious process or fact of projecting one's fears, feelings, desires, or fantasies on to other persons, things, or situations.'" Carefully, naturally - when this, when he had become a natural part of her life Seles wasn't sure, but she liked it more than she'd ever admit - she reached forward and tugged at a particularly long strand of his hair. "I don't have pigtails, you know."

Flustered by her proximity, by mischievous blue eyes too close to his - he spoke too quickly. "I know, Seles. You're- you're not Presea."

Drawing back - it was what she was suggesting, but that didn't mean she wanted to hear him say it - Seles put her book down and walked across the tower room, rummaging through a pile of texts taller than she was. While turned from the mage, she murmured, "Sometimes I wonder if you wish I was." Doing her best to ignore his silence, she pulled a thick tome bound in green and gold from the stack with a joyous exclamation. Walking back, Seles held the book in front of her body, refusing to think of it as a shield. She wasn't afraid of scruffy little Genis Sage.

Except... except he wasn't so little anymore.

"Here you go," Seles chirped, fighting a frown as she held the book out to him. "Practical Geomancy, Urthhart, the second edition. It's not bad; a little long-winded in parts but that's typical, coming from that school of thought." Seles' expression turned mischievous. "Actually, the book sounds like it is right up your alley, Genis. I hope it was worth coming all this wa—aaeh?"

She froze. His hands had reached for the book, but had slipped over her own and held on, refusing to let the little redhead shift away. "Seles."

"Hmm?" He smelled nice, she thought: of books, of the curry he'd concocted for lunch and a hint of that odd crackle of electricity after a lightning strike...

"You're daydreaming," Genis said, smiling. "Good, because I really didn't want to attribute your hard-headedness to stupidity. I like to do that when I talk to that brother of yours, but I don't like to think that the girl who I fly half around the world for because I – I like being around her is so dense that she can't figure out that I do all that because I want to." Tilting his head towards the cushions that served as their study nook, the abandoned plates of curry, and the tall mugs still filled with apple cider, Genis' smile grew. "If I really wanted Practical Geomancy, I would have made sure that my hold lists at the Meltokian library were longer than yours and Raine's combined. I'm not stupid, either."

"Really?" Seles asked coyly.

"Really," he deadpanned. "If I were, I think you'd have kicked me out by now, or barred the door, or left the book with one of your bruisers downstairs."

She was not blushing. She was not. Cursing her fair skin, Seles nodded dumbly.

"Besides," he continued, "I like your hair short, Seles. It brings out your eyes…" Trailing off, Genis let go of one of her hands, bringing his hand up slowly to brush a stray lock off of her cheek.

Seles froze. It wasn't playfulness lighting his eyes anymore. They seemed even brighter than usual; rapt, even, as he looked up at her. This was dangerous, she thought, bringing her free hand up to his chest, intent on pushing him away. She wasn't sure what sort of game Genis was playing, but this wasn't funny. Ten years after he'd helped to save the world – worlds – whatever – and she was still trapped up in this abbey like a modern-day fairy princess. He was cruel, coming here with his quips and his exotic recipes and his skin that hinted at the slightest tan and stories of the world beyond the Abbey and Meltokio…

Her hand tensed into a fist. It wasn't fair.

It wasn't until she opened her eyes again that she realized she had apparently spoken all of her thoughts aloud, and she could see regret in his eyes. The hand that covered hers squeezed in apology as Genis stood, drawing even closer. "I thought if I visited, you'd be less lonely, Seles. If you don't want me here, I'll go."

"That's not it." Damn it. She was brilliant, and knew it. Her abilities as a mage rivalled his own. None of that helped; she couldn't say what she wanted to.

Pushing down the vulnerability that threatened to steal her breath, Seles didn't speak as she slipped forward slightly, slowly, until she was resting against him, one hand still resting on his chest, the other hanging uncertainly at her side. Nestling her head into the crook of his shoulder – when had he become so tall? – she steeled herself for his reaction.

"I'll st-stay, then?"

Seles smiled. He'd regained a bit of the stammer she remembered from their earliest meetings, and his confusion was surprisingly endearing. "If you have to ask, you'd be better off leaving." She could feel his laughter as his arm wrapped gently around her.

He had about half a second to enjoy their embrace before a gloved hand that was decidedly not Seles' gripped the side of his neck, jostling him away. Looking up into the incensed eyes of Seles' older brother, Genis snorted as best he could with a constricted windpipe. "Long time, no see, Zelos. Too bad it couldn't have been longer."

Zelos glared down, unamused. "Give me one reason not to kill you for touching my sister, brat."

Seles spoke up, hands on her hips. "Blood is impossible to get off of these rugs, and you hate menial labour, brother."

Genis gurgled as the hand around his windpipe tightened. Landing a kick to Zelos' shin, Genis backed away from the elder Wilder and towards Seles, chuckling as the older man cursed colourfully. "I don't know," the mage added. "Maybe it's that my intentions with your sister look positively saintly compared to your intentions for mine… How's that going, by the way?"

Genis already knew the answer – not well. The gigantic bouquet of red roses that the courier had shoved in their door a week ago before high-tailing for his life (the temper of the beautiful Professor Sage had grown legendary amongst couriers, mailmen, and telegraph singers alike) had meant that Raine had been sneezing, irritable, and flushed for the last week. He loved his sister and owed her his life, but those facts still made their cohabitation two stops short of a living minefield. Chancing a grin in Seles' direction – who didn't look amused by his reply, for some odd reason – Genis didn't see Zelos' leg snapping out to trip him. Genis stumbled, wobbled, and tumbled to the floor. He looked up – no surprise there – onto the flat of the blade Zelos had pointed at him.

"Enough, brat. Girls love red roses – how was I supposed to know she's allergic to 'em?" Zelos frowned. "Huh. I'd thought you'd have enough taste to be allergic to him, Seles." As he turned to his sister, her response came in the form of a kendama projectile flashing through the air and deflecting the angle of the sword Zelos held.

"Stop posturing, brother."

"…Watch my neck, Chosen!"

"Since when have you been learning how to use that toy?" As Genis moved out of range, Zelos sighed. "Fine, fine… I can see when I'm beat. You two seem intent on your mutual insanity." Noting the tiny smile that snuck onto Seles' face, Zelos continued. "You break her heart – scratch that, brat, you break her anything – I'll break your legs."

Genis' grin was devilish. "No points for originality, Zelos." He opened his mouth, intent on continuing, but the flat of Seles' hand connected simultaneously with his head – and, Genis was mollified by it – Zelos', a second later.

"I will break whatever is necessary, whenever it is necessary, if it becomes necessary, thank-you-very-much, brother-mine."

Zelos shot Genis a look that could have meant you're absolutely insane or good luck with her, idiot or ow, that damn well hurt, didn't it? Instead of voicing those opinions, Zelos looked from the Sage to his sister and back again. "Do I even wanna know how this started?"

"Books," Genis and Seles chimed.

Shaking his head, Zelos sighed. "Neither of you get out enough." At Seles' glare, he remembered just whose idea that was, and sobered. "Just don't expect me to take care of any pink-haired progeny, sis." Narrowing his eyes to glare at Genis, Zelos added, "And I don't intend to see or hear of any progeny for a very, very long time, brat."

Steering her brother towards the door, Seles sighed and assured him that nothing of the sort would be happening. Honestly, she thought, pushing him out of the door and ignoring his protests, have some faith, Zelos. Turning around to find a downcast Genis, Seles frowned. "Is something wrong?"

" 'Nothing of the sort', Seles?"

Sinking her head into one of her hands, Seles used her other hand to poke at Genis' chest. "You are hopeless, Genis Sage." But she curled against his side as they went back to their books, tension seeping out of the curve of her spine as he ran a careful hand through her hair. "Mmm," Seles murmured happily. "Maybe not 'nothing'. But do you think anything less would have got that brother of mine out the door?"

Laughing, Genis leant down to kiss her forehead, smiling at the blush that crept up her cheeks as he did so. "Probably not. You're completely devious, Seles Wilder."

"It's likely," she replied. "I hope you're not complaining."

Tipping her chin up so that she was looking at him, Genis' smile was warm. "Not at all," he said, leaning forward to kiss her, the worry he felt when she froze in surprise assuaged by the sight of her eyelids fluttering shut. Bumping his nose against hers accidentally, he smiled at the insulted "ow…" that she muttered before leaning up to kiss him.

They'd need practice, Seles thought; she was fairly certain that in the romance novels she'd borrowed from Zelos' library during her last visit to Meltokio and had since kept cached behind more respectable texts, the heroine never walked away from a kiss with a bruised nose. Voicing an edited version of her thoughts to Genis, something in the vicinity of her heart fluttered happily as he grinned, one of his hands playing with her hair.

"I'm not complaining, either," he said. Ducking her half-hearted swat with agility that spoke of practise, Genis caught her hand and, picking up her cider with his other hand, looped her fingers around the handle of the mug. Raising his own mug to the one she held, he laughed. "To practise."

Seles glared, but raised her own. "To possibility."

"To piles of books," he teased.

"To sunny afternoons," she replied.

"To the sister who taught me how to read."

"To the annoying brother who trapped me here."

Genis smiled wickedly. "To my princess in the tower."

"To my chef in scholar's clothing." Her smile matched his.

"…To us." Genis gulped – suddenly, the silence between them was deafening. Had he gone too far? Even he had to admit that the last toast sounded suspiciously like something Zelos might say…

Mostly unconscious of her companion's concern, Seles grinned at Genis' uncertain expression, darting in to kiss his cheek before clinking her mug against his own. Her voice ringing with soft certainty, she echoed his toast. "To us."

. o .

- the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says
we are for each other

. o .

(finis)

. o .

Sabe's Scribbles: Inspired directly and indirectly by: the prompt at tosprompts on LJ (what would Zelos do upon discovering a Seles/Genis relationship?), the incomparable Silvie, an icon that started this ship (I swear it did – something along the lines of 'snarky half-elf love'), and e. e. cummings' "since feeling is first" (which I've used in three stories now, oh dear, but it's a brilliant poem.) Hope you enjoyed the read, and thoughts are always appreciated.