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Y/N brushed her hair, not once, not twice, but
thrice,
applying makeup in bursts inbetween. Not that she was any good at it, of course, but she was making an
attempt
.
“I don’t know why you’re asking me for advice on these matters, you know,” moaned Schubert, leaning next to you in the mirror and glancing down at you in contempt. “I mean, it’s not like I’d know anything about makeup, or any other frivolities. I mean, if you’re asking me about these things because of my
preferences,
then I don’t know what to say other than that I’m personally hurt by your prejudice
—
“
“Franz, I’m going on a date with a woman. I doubt I’d send over any friendly fire.”
“Ah,” he said, pursing his lips. “Well, you look better than any of the, um,
low-life ladies
I was around back in Vienna.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? And anyway, you were paying for those escorts to begin with. Seems that even after 200 years, your standards are still low.”
Schubert’s face went beet red at the concept of your insult against Beethes as you slinged a handbag over your shoulder. “Right, I’m finished. I’ll see you around,” you groaned, slipping out of the room as he followed your heels. You descended the stairs as he still lingered behind you, before entering the living room
Liszt, Mozart and Beethoven were all sat around the table, decks of Uno cards in each’s hand. You and Schubert both stared at the objects of your affections, neither sporting pink hair. Liszt seemed ready to slam down her next card, making your interruption unfavourable.
“Liszt, I need to speak with you
—
“
“Can’t it wait, girl?” asked Beethes, shuffling around his deck with an eyebrow quirked in annoyance. “We’re playing a fine game here.”
“Don’t be so rude to my
princess
. What is it, my dear-“ she began, before staring at you up and down in awe. “You look… positively wonderful, pumpkin,” she gasped as Mozart giggled at her horrible pet names.
“Thanks- Um, are you ready to go now..?” Liszt stared at you for a few moments, before glancing down at her watch. Her face went pale. “Oh. Mon. Dieu,” she stated suddenly in French for completely unbeknownst reasons. “I’m so,
so
sorry, my dearest kitten. Oh gosh, I haven’t gotten ready at
all-“
she began, as you interjected with cries such as
No, it’s fine, you already look great!
or
You don’t have to, we’ll be late!
Still, you found yourself to no avail as she hurried upstairs, pushing past Franz as he groaned.
“Tee-hee, what’s the occasion?” Mozart giggled, covering his mouth. “Don’t tell me you’re Liszt’s
girlfriend
or something!”
You went red. “I, um, am,” you mumbled as the others stared at you. Franz seemed the most surprised, staring at you with his eyes wide open. Mozart was completely pink, a huge grin plastered onto his face. Beethes seemed
slightly
interested.
“That’s so cute, Y/N! Ohmygosh, so you’re going on a
date
, then?” he asked, practically jumping in his seat in excitement as Schubert stepped forward. “Pipe it down, you fool! But yes, that’s… surprising. Congratulations, Y/N. How long have you two been together for?”
“Around 5 months,” you replied, straight-faced. Now, it was Beethoven’s turn to be surprised. “That long? Hm. Hardly 1 month from when you’d first got here.” You blushed- he was right. Somehow, Liszt’s good looks and horrible flirtations had left you spellbound- and it didn’t hurt that her form in her past life as the famed Hungarian composer had been responsible for some of your favourite pieces.
Okay, so maybe it
was
slightly strange at first to be dating the female reincarnation of Franz Liszt. Every so often while the two of you were on dates or simply being lovey-dovey, the mental image of
that man
popped into your head spontaneously. It wasn’t as if he was unattractive- you knew about the composer’s rabid fangirls at the time, the mass hysteria around him known as the
Lisztomania-
it was just a strange feeling of confusion, that such a virtuoso in music would be interested in
you
. And besides, you were a soprano, not a pianist- it would make far more sense for the other Franz of the Otowa residence to be into you, provided he wasn’t crushing on a certain
other
Classicaloid.
“Where are you taking her, then?” asked Beethoven, flexing his knuckles as he sunk back lazily into the sofa. You smiled. “An opera. It’s called
Sardanapalo,”
you began, receiving unknowing looks from the three men. “It’s based on a play by Lord Byron,” you added, as Schubert’s eyes lit up in understanding. “How fascinating! But pray, do tell me- why this opera out of so many others?”
“Because,” you replied, flattening your dress, “she wrote it. Well,
nearly.
It was never finished, but as of recently there’s been performances of its first act.”
“Oh, an unfinished opera?” Schubert asked, raising an eyebrow. “How exciting,” he remarked, his mind clearly wandering back to his famed
Unfinished Symphony.
“Mhm. I was thinking that it might be nice to let her see what’s become of her passion-filled project.”
“Well,” Beethoven said, a small smile on his face, “Consider me interested to see its results.”
———
“Cho-chan, how kissable does this lipstick make me look?”
Chopin glanced up at Liszt as she posed in front of the mirror, turning around as she vogued. “How would I know…” mumbled Frédéric, fidgeting with his sleeve. “You look nice. I guess.”
Liszt pouted, batting at his fluffy hair playfully in mock annoyance. “Cho-chan! What’s all of this ‘
I guess
’ business? You either look good, or you don’t. Come on, help me out here! Help me out with going on a date with this lovely girl, just like how I’ve done for
you
so many times-“
“Okay,” Chopin interjected, slightly red. “You look good. You can leave now.”
“This is my room, Cho-chan,” Liszt stated annoyedly, before smiling it off. “But sure. Alright, I’m off. Take care of yourself, dear!”
“Okay.”
——
Liszt appeared in the lounge, a classy black bodycon dress wrapped around her figure and a matching wide brimmed hat with feathers atop her head. She held a small handbag in a pair of ebony opera gloves, and her impressive height was furthered by a pair of black stilettos. You gasped slightly, your cheeks fading pink. You stood there speechless for a moment as Liszt looked around, waiting for compliments.
“Looking beautiful as always, Frau Liszt,” nodded Schubert, an uncomfortable smile on his face as he waited for you to stop gaping.
“Um- yes! Yes, you look amazing, Liszt,” you stuttered, your cheeks still red. She laughed quietly. “Noted, my dear. Now, shall we go?”
“Y…yes.”