📜🎩 T H E ☆ M A G I C I A N - Act 49 (Patreon)
Content
Content possibilities: original content, w/w(?) or overall queerness, fluff, angst, hurt & comfort, asexuality/demisexuality, cryptid (?) pregnancy, nb(?)preg, sexual & kink awakening, stuffing, nausea, gender ambiguity, partially male presenting pregnancy, transphobia, dysphoria, depression & suicidal thoughts, parental conflicts, use of alcohol and other drugs, birth, demons, religions & mythology (diverse), cursing, belly focus
▶ Read all from the start
Part I Acts: 1-3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 l 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19
Part II Acts: 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 28½ | 29 | 30 | 30½ | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 41½ | 42 | 43
Part III Acts: 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48
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T H E ☆ M A G I C I A N
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Act 49
Mel
“This game was a good suggestion, Rozemarijntje. I had the pleasure learning quite a few new things about you, and we’re still just on the first round,” Mel praised their date. After practicing multiple forms of shuffling, they got up from their wicker chair to observe the actions of their host a little closer.
Rosemary put some noodles in a pot of boiling water. Across the counter lay Serrano ham, olives, pine nuts, baguette, tomatoes, salad, eggs, and more. It looked like she was preparing dinner for a whole family.
“No peeking. Sit,” she ordered in a gentle but surprisingly dominant tone, akin to how a mother would comfortingly scold her children.
Mel caught their breath.
“You can have a cookie though, if you can’t take the hunger. They should be done by now,” Rosemary added.
Oh, they were hungry. Mel actually planned to excuse themselves so they could drink a calorie shake or at least eat a high-protein bar, so a snack was just the right thing. Rosemary really did seem to have a good feel for Mel’s needs.
Marry her, the voice in their head repeated, and this time Mel was almost sure it was Lusje talking. Almost.
“I gladly take this offer,” they agreed, turning off the oven, opening the door. and transferring a couple of the aromatic hot cookies onto a plate. Then, they sat down again.
“It’s your turn,” Rosemary reminded them, while she began washing the salad.
“Ah, correct. Hmm, what about me might be interesting to you…” Mel pondered.
“Everything,” she replied quickly, Mel’s face growing a little hot.
“Well, then. I like chocolate cookies.”
Rosemary looked at them, giving a sweet smile. “I know you’re trying to be witty, but I cherish this information.”
“Your charm is disarming, my little dove,” Mel stated honestly. How was she able to make them trip up so often?
“I try not to be,” she simply said.
“Well,” Mel continued and cleared their throat, “How about this. For a long time, my second favorite hobby was fencing.”
“I can imagine that well,” their host commented, leaving Mel a little crestfallen as they struggled to to surprise Rosemary as much as she continued to surprise them. The element of surprise should be Mel’s greatest asset in her profession.
“What‘s your favorite one?”
Mel laughed. “Magic,” they said, while taking a bite of a cookie. Either because they were still warm or because their Rosemary prepared them, they were incredibly delicious.
Rosemary moaned, irritated with herself. “Of course. Why am I always so oblivious to that? It‘s probably because it‘s such an essential part of you.”
“I take that as a great compliment. Now your turn.”
“I… hmm… I can‘t cook.”
And again, Mel stared at the young woman in surprise, as she literally prepared dinner right in front of them.
“Don‘t worry, this will be okay... I think. I hope. I chose something that can‘t fail. I never had the need to learn this skill, but now I really want to… for you.”
Fuck, Mel, I’m gonna cry. She‘s so cute, baby kittens send each other videos of her.
With this knowledge, the biscuits tasted even more divine.
“I feel ashamed now,” Rosemary admitted in a timid voice. “I promise this meal will turn out to be alright. Please continue with the game.”
Mel kindly gave in.
“My true name is Melchior,” they announced.
Upon this disclosure, the girl stopped abruptly. She slowly turned around, her eyes shining with interest once again.
“Melchior?” she repeated back in the sweetest voice, dangerously addicting, causing Mel to fill with excitement. To their surprise, the name sounded just as endearing as when she said ‘Melodie.’
“Yes, well. It’s just as real as Melodie, frankly. Neither of them is truer than the other. Yet, not many people know about this one.”
“Would you like me to call you Melchior from now on?” she asked.
It sounded even more beautiful the second time.
“You can call me anything you want, my dear. For myself, I like Mel the most, and that’s also how my companions refer to me. Choose to your heart's content, though I’d ask you to be discreet in public about ‘Melchior’.”
“Of course, Mel.”
Mel could feel their heart pounding.
“While we’re already at it,” Rosemary began while returning to the task of preparing dinner, “I actually only go by Mary.”
“Oh– I had no idea. I’m sorry, my little dove, I–”
“No no no, all good, don’t worry,” the girl assured them, “I didn’t mean it as a complaint. I just wanted to share that I usually hate my name and that you’re the only person who’s allowed to call me Rosemary.”
Mel couldn’t help themself. They had to get up and, with a gesture, gently requested Mary’s hand, who gave it without demur.
“I beg your pardon, I didn’t know.”
“Melodie, I assure you, it’s okay. I never told you. I wanted to, back then when we first met, but then you said that my name was beautiful, and I just… I don’t know. It resonated with me, I guess? Like… you helped me to see myself in a new light.”
“It is true, it really is a beautiful name. If I may be so bold to ask, why do you despise it?”
The young woman took Mel's other hand and began to play delicately with their fingers. She looked so cute as she did. Her hands were so small in relation to Mel's that the way she moved them gave the impression of a delicate bird nesting inside Mel's palms.
“It’s… it’s a dumb reason, probably. It’s just... you know, I almost know nothing about my mother. She left us when I was very young and never bothered to contact me since, yet my dad talks so fondly of her. It’s clear to me that she exploited his unconditional love, money and fame. And, I’m pretty sure she never wanted me… so when my dad told me that she was the one who chose the name, I just... wanted to strip it off, you know?”
Mel gave Mary's hands a little squeeze. What immense sorrow her little dove had to endure.
“Worst part is, when dad told me that she named me after that old horror movie, Rosemary’s baby,” Mary continued, “I mean… I like the movie and the plot. But Rosemary isn’t… a hero, or an inspiration, or anything, And… As much as I enjoy horror movies, it’s not flattering to be named after such a movie, right?”
“That depends on the intention, if you’re asking for my opinion. But it’s your feelings that matter, my dear. I can understand how it’s hurtful.”
As if the girl just realized something, she looked up toward Mel. “Oh,” she uttered, “I didn’t want to talk about such depressing stuff. I don’t know why I told you all this… Please forget what I said.”
Mel looked at their date. There were dozens of things they wanted to say and do in response: tell her that Rosemary would always have the space to share her pain with Mel, or that they didn’t want to forget matters of such importance to her, or just simply hug her.
However, every comment or gesture would aggravate the topic, and Mary clearly didn’t want to dwell on it any further.
So, to show that they agreed to their wish, Mel bent down and kissed the young woman on the forehead.
She squeezed Mel’s hands in response. Then, looking over their shoulder, she suddenly remarked, “Did you forget your cane? I remember you having it when we left the train.”
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Story written by RoseVirage
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