i.

The first time he hears her voice, it's a welcome distraction.

It's the first week of school, and already the new batch of kids are already trying to squirm their ways into his good graces.

If he has to hear one more "Oh, so you're Felix Fraldarius!" in a faux astonished voice, accompanied by a too-big smile and calculating eyes, Felix thinks that he will choke someone.

And so it is in this blackened mood that he wanders distractedly from his usual on-campus haunts and finds himself under the awning of the old brick building tucked in the far corner of the university's grounds. It's quiet and the surrounding maple trees smell sweet, so he stumbles over to the time-worn bench dedicated to some long dead geezer and collapses onto it with a frustrated groan.

It is here that he hears her sing.

Cheerful and filled with smiles, the strains of a young woman's voice filters through the air like the summer sun filters through the maple branches. It's not exactly a thought provoking song.

"Today's dinner is steak and then a cake that's yummy yum... Now it's time to fill my tummy tummy tum...!"

She breaks off into some more inane humming and Felix snorts a little at the obvious catches in her voice; she's breathing hard from some sort of physical exertion.

There's a purity about her voice that reminds him of earlier days from his life; days when Glenn had not been shipped off to war yet and loved to make up silly songs with Dimitri and Sylvain to pester Felix's (he winces to remember) fragile dignity. Ingrid would snicker at them in a most unladylike fashion while their parents laughed and laughed from afar.

He remembers those fair golden days; when Glenn's eyes snapped like laughing electric sparks, Mother grinned with feral joy and Father actually gave a shit about if his sons were happy or not.

It's not the lyrics that brings about the sudden ache in his chest. It's the joy in the girl's voice; that elusive trait so unique to whole families rather that the shattered ghost left in the title he bears now.

The voice brings him back.

He doesn't know who this girl is, and why the hell she's singing about steaks and cakes of all things, but for now, Felix lets her song soothe him as he closes his eyes and listens under the branches of the sweet-smelling maple trees.

ii.

The second time he hears her voice, it's not by chance.

Felix would rather swallow a knife than admit that he comes often to this hidden haven hoping to hear the girl sing again. No, he didn't feel anything that first time that he had heard her voice. No, that voice didn't get him through the first torturous weeks of classes.

And no, he's definitely not disappointed by the fact that he never got to hear her voice again despite his many trips to this secluded spot under the maple-scented awning.

So one evening, Felix all but falls off the bench when he hears the familiar humming above him for the first time in weeks. The last of the summer cicadas are pretty much screaming in his ears, but that cheerful strain of song is unmistakable even under all the noise.

"Oh, this mountain of sweets, and treats that I long to eats... Oh, stacks of steaks and cakes and crumbs and yums!"

It's unmistakably her, and the same rush of peace that those silly words evoked in him the first time rises to the surface, and he all but melts under its effects.

The girl's much closer to him than last time; it seems that she's on the ground floor this time, her voice moving back and forth through the halls as she carries something to and fro. Her voice thins perceptibly under the strain of the heavy weight, the ends of her words puffing out with exertion. But when her arms are free, her song flies unburdened.

It fills him with an undeniable thrill to be able to pinpoint her movements thus. His back is to the wall of the building and Felix firmly intends to stay this way. It's not that he doesn't want to look; it just feels wrong to take all that unbridled cheer and squash it all into a human person's body. A human would probably explode from too much positivity; humans don't take extremes very well.

But humans are also a naturally curious species, and so when he picks up his books and stands to leave, Felix turns his head a little, letting his eyes fall to the open window of the building's floor.

He's just in time to catch a glance of a small figure dart around the corner and out of sight. Her arms are filled with books and she's got bright copper hair curling merrily at the nape of a very white neck. Her humming trails behind her like the train of a long dress, leaving his world a little more colorful than it was just a moment ago.

This doesn't change anything. He will go about his day as per usual. Felix stands to leave, already hearing her light footsteps returning for the last set of books.

And because he doesn't want to feel indebted to this bizarre creature of light, he leaves a bag of candy on the windowsill and flees before he can second-guess himself.

It's stupid. It's Sylvain level of stupid.

But when he returns the next day to see the bag of candy empty and the cloth baggie neatly folded on the sill, a little sticky note with a doodled smiley face on top, his heart feels lighter than it has been in weeks.

iii.

The third time he hears her, he finally puts a name to the voice.

Felix has hardly sat down under the awning before her song rings out, energetically cheerful as always. It's a different song than the last two times.

"Oh, how I just love to clean. Clean the library room! Just takes a flash of light and then it all goes boom! A flash and then a big boom!"

As always, her lyrics make him snort a little. They're silly, rather childish even, but there's an unpredictability about her that makes him want to know more, to listen harder, and to understand this strange excitable girl who has so haunted his mind these last few weeks.

She's just about to dive into the second verse of her song when another voice, softer and higher in pitch, calls out, "Annie! Annie, are you in there?"

"A flash and then a big—mmph!" There's a slap, and her words are instantly muffled. Did she just clap her own hand over her mouth?

There's the sound of a door creaking open. "Ah, there you are, Annette! I thought I'd lend you a hand. Were you singing?"

"Oh, Mercie!" The girl giggles nervously, as if she's strung tight like a rope. "Ah ha ha ha…yes, I was singing! Um….I was practicing for next week's concert!"

"Really?" 'Mercie' sounds impressed. "Look at you, Annie, such a hard worker! I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Mercedes." Annette replies sheepishly. There's the sound of scraping wood and heavy leather creaking. "Oh! Let me get that for you, those are heavy."

"You've really gotten stronger since our high school days." Mercedes says with admiration. "I really envy you, I could hardly lift that enormous stack of score books!"

"Ahh, I guess I'm just used to it." Annette laughs again, a little strained. "I'm in charge of keeping the music library clean after all."

"And singing to yourself as well? Does your secret admirer know that you have such a charming voice?"

Below them, Felix bolts upright.

Thawck! There's a sound of someone swatting another person's shoulder. "M-Mercedes!"

"Who else could've left that little bag of sweets that you liked so much?" Mercedes insists sweetly. "It must be a secret admirer! They must be fascinated with your voice, since they so clearly left them here for you! No one else has your sweet tooth."

Felix thinks he might be having a heart attack. It's not a bad way to die, he thinks dazedly.

"It's just that one time!" Annette replies defensively. "And anyway it's none of your business! Even if you are my best friend!"

"Aww, Annie? Is that a blush on your face I see?"

"Mercedes—!"

Felix discreetly takes his leave during the commotion. His mind is spinning as he walks distractedly through the bustling campus, pointedly ignoring any cheery greeting thrown his way.

He has learned many interesting things today: her name is Annette. She has a best friend named Mercedes. She liked the candy.

And, most interestingly enough, she's shy about sharing her own original songs.

These facts don't change anything. They won't change anything. But if he does return the next time with another bag of candy, it's totally unrelated and of his own volition.

That's what Felix tells himself.

iv.

The fourth time he hears her voice, it's buried under a cacophony of a hundred others.

The university has way too many student activities scheduled as it is, and Sylvain, the absolute idiot who decided to be a Resident Assistant because he couldn't resist the allure of free housing and easy access to the female folk, decides to drag him to every one of them.

Felix's fighting a losing battle; Ingrid and Dimitri are on Sylvain's side and it's the first time in a long while since the boar has actually smiled like this so he grudgingly allows them to drag him along to the university's main auditorium, where there's some sort of concert being put on by the music department.

There's not very many people attending this specific concert, given that it's on a school night and a classical music event after all—but there's still enough people that they are forced to squeeze into one of the front rows on the very right of the room. Felix anticipates a crick in his neck and his mood sours at the thought.

"Who's performing?" Dimitri asks, squinting at the program. He's probably the only one actually enthusiastic about the music choice tonight. Sylvain is just here for the "drop-dead gorgeous choir chicks" as he so delicately puts it, and Ingrid is here because of, well, Sylvain.

"The women's chorale, the chamber strings, and then the symphonic band." Sylvain says like he memorized the program beforehand. "It's an interesting medley!"

Felix doesn't bother muffling his scoff, and Ingrid's long-suffering glare is the last thing he sees before the lights dim and the hall is swamped with darkness.

A beautiful woman who apparently forgot to wear some very important underclothes sashays to the front of the lit stage and gives a brief address introducing each group, batting her eyes and pursing her lips at the end of every single sentence. Beside Felix, Sylvain is giving the woman an approving once-over and gets a hard elbow in his side for his troubles.

By the time she's through Felix is sure that Dimitri is about to combust from embarrassment, but when the curtains lift and the first number begins, all the discomfort washes away and the boar visibly relaxes, settling into his chair with a sigh.

They're not bad, Felix has to admit, watching the singers on stage passing melodies back and forth with earnest determination. The music is lively and it seems perfectly written to sweep the audience into a brighter and happier mood.

That's when he hears her.

He bolts upright from his previous slouch with such suddenness that Dimitri drops his program in a flurry of surprised papers, but Felix couldn't care less as he strains to hear that one copper-bright voice above the rest, his hands gripping the armrest with such force his knuckles whiten.

When he hears her again, that unmistakable cheer brightening the room like a stray beam of sunshine, Felix falls back against the cushions with mingled disbelief and a very confusing jumble of other emotions that fight for dominance; delight that she's here and he can now put a face to her voice? Insecurity? Fear? A little bit of intense physical fascination that was impossible to silence ever since he saw that slender figure in the window?

The music fades, leaving him alone with his unsettled state of mind, and her voice cuts off a little later than the others do. In the back of the risers, someone claps a hand over her mouth, and there's a tiny, almost indecipherable sound of embarrassment. No one else takes much notice of it, and if they did, polite courtesy urges them to maintain a respectful silence.

But Felix does take notice (how could he not, when he recognizes that exact same sound from before?) and so he takes that brief muffled exclamation and shoves it deep in his heart for later.

He will puzzle this dilemma out later in the privacy of his room.

(Later after the show, Dimitri remarks to the others of his surprise at how well Felix was paying attention to the concert, only to be disappointed at his complete disinterest in the latter half of the program. Ingrid replies with a shrug of her shoulders; Sylvain puts two and two together and nearly chokes at his own revelation.)

v.

The fifth time he hears her songs, she sings for him.

By now, Felix has finally put the full name to the voice. Annette Fantine Dominic, the bright-haired girl who he has definitely seen from a few of his classes earlier in the semester. He had never given her a second thought until earlier that week, when he heard one of their professors call out, "Annette, can I speak with you?", and an all-too-familiar voice answered back cheerily, "Coming, ma'am!" as she, she bounded down the stairs with the awkward grace of a newborn fawn.

Felix had nearly tripped into Ingrid's back as they were making their way out of the lecture hall, and he barely registered her scolding as he had stared at the tiny young woman chattering up a storm with their stoic-faced professor, his whole world converging on the embodiment of the voice which had soothed him so these last few months.

She was cute. She was charming. She looked exactly like what her voice sounded like. And Felix was utterly, uncontrollably, and undeniably captivated.

Then there was a moment when Annette turned her head just a little as she talked, and she caught him frozen by the doors, staring at her like he was under a spell entirely of her own making. Her cheery voice faltered a little, and she had tipped her head at him in confusion before turning back to the professor and resuming her conversation.

Ingrid was saying something to him in honest confusion, but Felix was already making a beeline for the exit, his ears burning hot as he fairly fled from the building like some sort of idiot with his heart dancing a frantic jig in his chest.

Since then, he hadn't dared to come back to this awning, not even to drop the usual bag of candy on the sill, and so it took Felix a few very painful days of metaphorically banging his head against his desk before he finally worked up the courage to return to the awning.

His fortitude falters when he hears her clear-voiced singing, his feet turning to lead beneath him, but again her voice grips him by the shoulders and drags him beneath the snow-laden awning. He is the north, she is the south; there could be no other explanation for this magnetic attraction.

Felix stumbles to a halt by the open window; he can see a peek of her cable-knit sweater and the blurry motions of her fingers carefully organizing stacks and stacks of sheet music. Her singing has died away into thoughtful humming, her mind obviously preoccupied with her task.

He didn't mean to lean forward. Perhaps it was unconscious, perhaps it wasn't. But he takes a single unbidden step forward towards the corner of the building, and the snow crunches loudly beneath his boot.

Her humming stops. Her fingers still. Felix pretty much stops breathing.

For a moment, there's nothing but the sound of a quietly moaning wind and the groan of the tired old building. His heart sounds too loud in his own ears. Her breathing has gotten a little shorter, a little more pitched.

It's Annette who speaks first. "Um…" She hesitates, uncertain but not afraid, "I know you're there."

Felix wants to sink into the earth and never resurface. He turns on his heel and the snow shrieks beneath his sole.

"Wait!" Annette squawks. "Don't leave! I didn't mean to scare you."

Felix pauses mid-stride. He steps back to the corner, the crunching of snow resonating clearly in the crisp wintry air. Annette bounces over to the window with light footsteps, but she doesn't look out the window.

"Um…" Annette sounds a little nervous, but she sounds more curious than fearful and so she rattles on, "I'm going to keep working and you can just do what you normally do! I really hope you're not a creep, but you can't exactly see me so I guess you're not being a creep…are you the one leaving me those candies? If so, thanks! If not…um…well this would be really awkward if you weren't…I mean there can't be two different people leaving the exact same kinds of candy on the same window sill after all….oh dear, I'm rambling…I guess I'm just a little nervous, ha ha!" She ends on a little giggle, and it warms Felix to an impossible degree even out in all this snow.

By now, he's crept up to the very corner of the building, right next to the open window. If Annette were to stick her head out right now and look to her right, she would see him, standing there with his hand on the brick wall, flushed a furious red and almost…just almost…smiling.

"I should be mad, you know." Annette continues, brightly. "I don't sing those songs for just anyone, you know. Sure, I can sing all those fancy arias and cantatas, but who wants to hear me singing silly songs about steaks and cakes of all things? It's so stupid…but they're awfully fun to sing…"

Felix is right at the very edge of the building's corner now. His breathing is coming slower now, her very words calming his frazzled heartbeat.

"What am I doing." Annette mutters to herself. "I could be talking to the wind or a stray squirrel for all I know. Not even Mercie knows about my songs. Who cares about these songs anyway?"

Her voice is bordering on frustration. In a bit of a panic, Felix leans forward again, the snow crunching loudly again under his sole. His breathing has gotten heavier, more urgent, and she can hear it.

Annette lets out a soft "eep!", but she doesn't flee shrieking or faint dead on the spot. Instead, she inhales determinedly and asks, carefully, "So, you do want to hear more?"

Felix opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, and finally manages a single, "Yes,"

Her breathing stutters.

Felix adds, as an afterthought, "Please."

Annette catches her breath, then she grins audibly. Her smile is evident in her next words. "OK, fine. If you insist, I'll sing just a bit more…

"Oh, how I just love to clean. Clean the library room! Just takes a flash of light and then it all goes boom!"

She sings for him until his cheeks and fingers are numb from the cold and her voice has gone hoarse. They part with fast-beating hearts and dumb smiles on their faces.

They don't say it aloud.

But there's enough said between the two of them; the crunch of expectant snow, the open window in winter, and the soft strains of her voice floating between them like a precious silver thread amongst the gray clouds of winter.

.

.

.

+1

Sylvain considers himself a good friend. A wonderful friend, even. Everything he does is for others, to further strengthen his relationships and to make them all better companions at the end of the day.

This is what he tells himself even as Felix shouts and struggles over Dimitri's shoulder as Sylvain hauls his best friend towards the car.

"I told you! I am not going a fucking blind date with one of your air-headed exes!" Felix yells as Dimitri carries him with little effort towards the waiting car.

"She's not my ex, Felix." Sylvain says cheerfully, throwing open the passenger door of his car and tossing him bodily inside. In the driver's seat, Ingrid is adjusting the rearview mirror and already gunning the gas pedal. That woman deserves a medal. "Trust me, this is for your own good."

"You son of a—"

Sylvain slams the door shut, dusting off his palms. Besides him, Dimitri is looking Very Worried and Very Concerned. "Sylvain, are you sure about this?"

Sylvain grins. "I have never been more certain of anything else in my life." He saunters over the front seat and opens the door. "After you, my good sir."

Dimitri gets in with a long suffering sigh. Sylvain pops the back seat open, nimbly dodges a well-aimed kick from Felix, and seats himself with the air of a conquering hero. "Gun it, Ingrid!"

Ingrid obliges with a ferocious smile reminiscent of their childhood days, and the car's tires screech as they pull into traffic.

The café isn't far from campus, but the ride is long enough that Felix manages to work himself free of his bonds and nearly throws himself out of the moving vehicle before Sylvain tackles him, all while Dimitri wheezes in the front seat as Ingrid grimly shifts into third gear and speeds up.

By the time they reach their destination, all of them are breathless and varying degrees of terrified, amused, and full on furious, but the four of them are all in one piece, albeit a little worse for wear.

"I will murder you in your sleep, Sylvian." Felix says in a very malevolent voice that's all but a snarl. Sylvain gives him a critical once-over; his clothes aren't too wrinkled and only a few strands of hair have escaped that tight bun of his. He's presentable, the redhead decides.

"Trust me, at the end of today, you will be clutching my feet in gratitude." Sylvain says with upmost confidence. He sneaks a glance at his phone and grins at what he sees on the screen.

(11:01) She's here, just like I promised! She's a little confused but otherwise ready to go

(11:01) You're an angel, babe 3 Can you bring her out to the front of the café?

(11:02) Sure thing 3

"Sylvain?" Felix is looking more and more irritable by the second. Dimitri is all but hiding behind the headrest of the front seat, and Ingrid is trying to stifle a smile behind her hand.

"Well, my friend, you're in luck." Sylvain winks and throws open the door. "She's ready to meet you!"

Felix looks like he's about to explode. "For the last time, I'm not going on a blind date with—!"

The café door opens with a jingle. His blind date comes into view, pushing open the door as she turns her head back and forth.

Sylvain grins with delight. Mercedes had indeed dolled Annette up most prettily; she's wearing a cute little winter sweater that hangs on her figure just right and brings out the vibrancy of her hair and the rose in her cheeks and lips.

She's blinking uncertainly at the car; she's probably seeing a huge blonde man in the front seat of a tiny car trying not to hyperventilate and a grinning woman smiling a little too wide for her normal physiology to accommodate in the driver's seat.

Annette doesn't see the way Felix stills in the back seat. She doesn't see the emotions flickering across his face like the pages of an open book; shock, disbelief, incredulity, and finally, wonderment like the rising of the sun. She doesn't see the way he unfolds from his tense positon slowly and reaches for the door handle.

But she does see a strangely familiar pale young man stepping out of the car with awkward grace, and the way that he studies her face like he's trying to memorize its every feature, its every dip and swoop.

And judging by the way her eyes widen and her whole face floods with astonishment, she definitely recognizes him when Felix mumbles an uncertain greeting in a low voice. She snaps out of her shock and begins chattering up an excited storm, her exuberance almost contagious as Felix visibly softens and relaxes, a slow smile turning up his lips.

And when she offers her hand, and Felix actually takes it, Sylvain could almost wipe away a tear.

"Did you know that this would happen?" Dimitri says with awe as they watch the man who was just a few minutes ago fighting like a caged beast in their backseat meekly follow the tiny cheery girl into the café's doors.

"It's better than in my wildest dreams." Sylvain clasps his hands. "I knew it ever since that night of the concert!

Ingrid snorts, and grudgingly reaches for her purse. "I had my suspicions ever since he stared at her after the lecture like that. A bet's a bet, Gautier. Here. "

Sylvain grins widely and holds out his palm. Ingrid slaps a generous amount of bills in his hand. Dimitri sighs and reaches for his wallet as well.

Sylvain counts the money. It's a windfall. It's a good day for them all, but judging by the way Felix and Annette are gazing at each other behind the glass of the café windows, some are having a better day than others.

He's such a good friend, isn't' he?