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Realistic or Modern < et corrupti sunt livores >
- Thread starter Svadilfari
- Start date
Svadilfari
The mediocre Gatsby
Lukas Brigham
< The Horseman's Son >
4:15 AM || Brigham Estate
The incessant scraping of wood against glass woke him out of a fitful sleep. With a mind half awake from the intrusion, he tried to roll on to his back, only to fall off of the settee with a loud thud. A groan escaped from the back of his throat, as the brunet raised a bruised hand to the tender spot at the back of his head. He gave a moment for the dull ache to subside, before finally blinking his eyes open. A mahogany coffered ceiling stared back at him; grim, dusty, and sunless. His gaze wandered around the empty room, deep blue eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. There on a polished, wooden coffee table, stood last nights' half empty bottles of liquor, some lying on the floor, their contents staining the carpet. Outside, the skies are still dark, casting shadows that grew longer by the minute. A low hanging branch scratched the glass panes whenever the winds picked up, bringing the promise of an oncoming rain.
The brunet rubbed his eyelids, as he tried to remember the night before. A minute passed. And then two.
Nada.
Zero.
Zilch.
He can taste the mess of iron and alcohol in his mouth, and when he licked his lips it had only gotten worse. He couldn't remember what he took last night, but whatever it was, it was strong enough to erase a day's worth of memory. With a groan, he managed to prop himself up to one elbow, slowly getting back on his feet, as he tried to compose himself. His shoes are missing, his clothes are all rumpled, and the fabrics are plastered on to his skin, making him itch. The moment he took his shirt off, the unmistakable scent of sea salt assaulted his nose.
Sea Water.
The Beach.
Had he been swimming?
With who?
After a moment's debate, he decided to kick off his heavy trousers as well, before padding out the dim hallway. Upon reaching the washroom, he ran a hand through his unruly brown hair, and grimaced when his calloused fingers got stuck between the rough tangles. Taking off what was left of his clothes, he flicked the switch, and faced the mirror.
"Son of a--"
Lukas Brigham cursed under his breath, his gaze tracing the tender skin surrounding his right eye. A punch had left an angry ring of purple, yellow, and red splotches on him, like dying stars on a pitch black night. At the corner of his temple, branded heavy and deep, is a curious indentation in the shape of a broken 'M.' He tried to search his memory of the night before, but it only came in hazy pieces, all in disarray. He remembered that it started off from something small, from a few words burrowing underneath the skin, to something serious like an oncoming fist, the collision of solid bone to muscle propelling him backwards, out of momentum. He remembered how the world had instantaneously gone half dark, as his eye throbbed in a sickening intensity. Or at least it did, until the adrenaline kicked in and the temperature appeared to have gone up a couple of degrees, making him feel the heat of the Summer again, amidst the frigid October air. He remembered the sound of the ocean then, the sound of something falling in, sinking deep. And after that, for quite some time, everything went blank, and he felt nothing. Not until hours later, catching him off guard at this very moment.
Shaking his head at his reflection, the brunet willed himself to wake up for the second time that day. Whatever it was that happened, it can wait. He needed to be ready for somewhere else today. A necessity that had to be done for the betterment of their House. His father, Gavril, is a great many things, but contented isn't one of them. And all of his actions led to this moment, damning his son for it.
Purgamentum Exit.
Refuse out.
Their House words. And then from the rubble, you can build back up. But only if you have something to build with, he thought bitterly, as he surrendered himself to the water.
--
5:33 AM || Cafe Constanza
It started raining heavily by the time he reached the Cafe. He decided to take the scenic route and simply walked to his destination, figuring that there was ample time to spare, to clear his head and gather his bearings. That, and he desperately needed his fix. Cafe Constanza is a place of ceasefire, and always has been. It started a long time ago, between a promise made to Mama Maria, and the four children she treated like her own. And though the children grew up to hate each others' guts (to the point of spilling them on the streets), the promise remained that her place be a place of peace. For there are only two things that Maria Constanza hates: Blood, and Smoke. And his type of 'smoke' is no exception.
Snubbing out the cigarette with his heel, Lukas took off his cap and stepped in. As he shrugged off his coat to hang at the rack by the door, the rhythmic patter of rain finally reached a crescendo.
"For once in your life you are early, hijo."
Constanza stood with her hands on her hips, her hair, as always, plaited in a neat bun on her greying head. Her benign brown eyes regarded him thoughtfully, making him wither under her knowing stare. And so he averted his gaze, embarrassment getting a hold of him, as she raised a brow at his battered state. If she had any questions however, she did not bother to say; she is used to these things, and she knows that children will be children no matter what.
"Perhaps it is because you are excited, si ?" She smiled a toothless smile at him, as she grabbed him by the arm, dragging him to one of the occupied tables by the far window. "I do not blame you Lukey." As they got nearer, she pulled him close to whisper in his ear, as if in secret, "She is a beautiful young woman. And very strong and capable, I know it," she added with a wink. Lukas can feel the blood creep up to his cheeks, and onto his nose. He was painfully flustered, and Maria enjoyed every moment of it. He only didn't have the heart to tell her how much the woman he is signing a contract with (although they had never met in person), had given their House quite a headache. Their Houses had been butting heads since the beginning, and only because of certain circumstances did they finally come to a mutually limited understanding.
By the time they reached the table, Lukas's face is aflame, reflecting the fiery colour of the young woman's hair. "Charlie hija, this is Lukas. Lukas, this is Charlotte," Maria introduced them with a cheerful smile, practically forcing the brunet on his seat. "Now, papel on the mesa, boligrafo too," she gestured to items on the table. "It is a lot of rain outside, so please both of you, take your time. I will get something hot, si?" With another secretive wink to his direction, Maria Constanza left for the kitchen, leaving them both to the sound of the rain.
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Name: Charlotte Ayton
Age: 24
Info: Standing at 5'7 topped with flaming red locks, Charlotte (or Charlie, as she's called by many) immediately stands out in any room she walks into, even when she's not wearing heels. Her sharp cheekbones and intrusive blueish-gray, almost ice-like, eyes are softened only by the light freckles and full lips that give her a more youthful, innocent look.
Much like the fox tattoo hidden behind her left ear, visible only when she puts up her hair, Charlotte's built is more about agility than it is about strength. Long and lean, her muscles are just barely defined, rounded up by the softer lines of her body, the same type her mother had.
Her two most dominant features, both inherited from her father, are her voice and her eyes- both can and used when called for, are sharp, commending and non-compromising.
Age: 24
Info: Standing at 5'7 topped with flaming red locks, Charlotte (or Charlie, as she's called by many) immediately stands out in any room she walks into, even when she's not wearing heels. Her sharp cheekbones and intrusive blueish-gray, almost ice-like, eyes are softened only by the light freckles and full lips that give her a more youthful, innocent look.
Much like the fox tattoo hidden behind her left ear, visible only when she puts up her hair, Charlotte's built is more about agility than it is about strength. Long and lean, her muscles are just barely defined, rounded up by the softer lines of her body, the same type her mother had.
Her two most dominant features, both inherited from her father, are her voice and her eyes- both can and used when called for, are sharp, commending and non-compromising.
"A storm is coming."
Charlotte's eyes burrowed into those of her father's, their perfect reflection surrounded by lines time created. The man had a knack for the dramatics, but his serious expression made an uneasy feeling settle into the pit of her stomach. Seated behind his large Rosewood desk, Joaquin paused for a moment, looking up at his daughter who stood silent and motionless, before he continued talking.
"The Pigs have a new management rising, and it's not going to be as easily... convinced, as the current one. And the Gerons are getting more aggressive, more dangerous. To be honest, I'm not entirely certain they're not the ones behind that first problem," he frowned, wrinkles forming on his otherwise surprisingly youthful face. "We can't afford a battle on two fronts. Even if we win, the price would be too high."
Of course, he was right. Taking on a powerful and uninhibited organization while also facing ruthless law enforcement was out of the question. Joaquin was no child, the few silver stripes in his neatly combed caramel hair, only a shade or two darker than his skin, were proof of that. He had no right to walk straight into a mindless feud. If there was something he ingrained in Charlie ever since she was young, it was the magnitude of responsibility that laid on their shoulders. Standing at the top did not mean towering over others, but rather protecting them. Loyalty, the other most important value at the Ayton family, was a two-way currency, and was to be taken and rewarded with the upmost form of such protection. 'The Men who chose to join us are expected to put everything on the line for the Ayton House,' he told her over and over again. 'They are a part of it as much as you are. Our house is only as strong as the bricks it's made of.'
"When and how?" Charlotte finally spoke, for the first time since she entered her father's study. It was clear there was only one way about it- taking out the Gerons for good. There was no way to eliminate the police, and trying to interfere with their internal politics was too risky and would take too much time- something they didn't seem to have a lot of.
With a soft chuckle, Joaquin closed his eyes and shook his head. Apparently, her father didn't think the solution was as straightforward as Charlotte believed it to be.
"Being more forceful wouldn't help you outlast a storm. Whether we stand it or not, depends on the strength of our foundations."
"What do we do then?" Charlotte knew whatever plan her father had in mind, she had an integral part in it. She wasn't there just to be informed about it- although her role as heir to the organization most certainly required her to be aware of everything going on- but to fully participate in whatever was about to go down.
Looking at her for a moment with an expression she couldn't decipher, Joaquin proceeded to open one of his drawers and pull out a manila envelope, one he promptly offered to Charlie. With a final and apprehensive glance at his face, she took the envelope and pulled out the thick pile of pages within it- the first draft of a contract. A quick glance at its first page made a strange constriction of her throat, one that only tightened when she carefully reread it, this time with care. She lifted her eyes, blue ice marred with dread and a silent beg, only to meet the confirmation she was hoping to never see in her father's expression. Confirmation, and finality.
"I'm sorry Querida. But the House needs you."
"I get it." She wasn't sure how she managed it- the way she felt, no sound, certainly not her usual cold voice, should have made it out of her mouth- but Charlotte replied almost immediately. "You'll have my notes by tonight."
Placing down that cursed contract, Charlotte turned on her heel and headed out of her father's office without another word. The only things she could hear as she made her way through the hallways and down the stairs were her shoes clacking against the dark wooden floors and her heart hammering in her chest. Although the people she met moved out of the way, making way for her to pass as they usually did, she barely paid them any attention. Down two long corridors and three flights of stairs, Charlie burst through the backdoor, leading from the kitchen directly to the old woods that lay just past their house.
Cold air stung her eyes and her skin, scraping her lungs as it forcefully pushed its way to them through fast, shallow breathes. Charlie didn't need a route to find her way to the clearing that has been her sanctuary for the past decade. The worn target was still waiting for her, as well as her faithful throwing knives, shielded in the dark blue velvet case that wrapped them back when her father gave them to her on her sixteenth birthday, a token of his pride in the fact his only daughter picked up the same useless hobby he had.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
One knife after the other hit the board with a ringing sound, falling to the ground immediately after rather than sticking in. It was a miracle she hit the target at all, since all she could see were blurry shapes. Another knife, and then another were furiously thrown, none penetrating the grooved target. She needed to get it together. To stop being such a baby. There were worse things she could go through for the family. It was the responsibility she was born with.
Clang, Clang.
The sound of autumn leaves crunching under a pair of shoes joined to that of the knives and her jagged breathing was hard to miss, although Charlotte didn't stop, nor broke her rhythm to look at the intruder.
"Your shoulders are too stiff Carlota," her father spoke to her softly, using the nickname that was his alone, and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "Let them drop, just like that."
The next knife she threw hit the target just at its edge, nothing like the bullseyes she was capable of, but at least it stuck.
"Is this really the only option?" Charlotte's head hung low, and her voice came out as nothing more than a hushed whisper.
"Blood is thicker than water, Mi Alma," Joaquin moved to wrap his arms around her and plant a kiss on the top of her head. "You're the one who taught me this lesson, and that's something no one could ever change."
---
The halt of the car and the sudden silence as the engine was cut, made Charlotte snap out of her thoughts. There was no use thinking back on what brought her here, even if things after that moved so quickly she barely had time to think about it at all. She lifted her head and looked out the window- it was barely dawn, and the soft rain was pitter-pattering against the pavement. They've arrived.
The door next to her opened, and Jamal, her father's head of security, reached in his dark hand to help her out of the car and straight under the cover of a large, black umbrella. Once inside, she quickly kissed Maria on both cheeks before sitting at the table destined for their meeting. It wasn't five minutes before the nervous tapping of her heels against the chair filled the air.
"Charlie," Jamal's deep voice came from the table behind her, patient even if a bit chiding, and although she couldn't see him, she was sure he was smiling in mock exasperation.
"He's late."
"We're early," he corrected her. "Look, if you're serious about this I already told you I can get you some documents and smuggle you off somewhere. Sure, boss might be a little angry, but it's not like I need two functioning arms to live."
Charlie snickered and rubbed her temples. They both knew this was not going to happen, not in a million years. Jamal was trying to make her feel better, and she hated to admit it, but it was helping just a little. She was about to open her mouth and say something back, but abruptly shut it, the newly bloomed smile slipping off her face.
The door to the cafe opened, and her future walked right in.
Eyes dropping back to the table, Charlie unconsciously pushed the rolled sleeves of her white button down a little further up so they grazed her elbows. She had time left for one last stabilizing deep breath before Maria and Lukas reached the table. When her gaze landed on his face, or more specifically his black eye, Charlie's jaw clenched just a little, but she made no comment on her betrothed's appearance, instead just waiting patiently for him to sit down. Once he did, she straightened her gaze to look at him, her eyes the color of the rain outside and just as cold.
"I figured we should solve a few things today," she started, not bothering with formalities and introductions. So what if it was the first time they met? They'll have more than enough time to get to know each other, something Charlotte was not at all sure she wanted to do. From what she heard about him and what she just saw, Lukas was nothing but trouble.
"There are the living arrangements, and social obligations. I don't expect us to be involved in every aspect of each other's lives, but it has to be believable. There's no point to this otherwise," and there was no way she was going to go through this if it was pointless. "We should also discuss the ceremony. Unfortunately there's no way to keep it really small, but I hope we can at least keep it..." her eyes focused on Lukas' injured eye once again, "unrowdy. I don't have the time to deal with those things, certainly not on a regular basis."
Her phone beeping grabbed Charlie's attention for a second, but once she glanced at it to make sure it was nothing important she turned right back to Lukas. "I also imagine you have some things you want to bring up yourself. Now I think would be the best time to do this, before we sign. The clearer and more simple we make it, the easier both of our lives would be."
Svadilfari
The mediocre Gatsby
The silence between them did not get the chance to settle. She looked at him then, as soon as he sat, with a gaze boring deeply into him. "I figured we should solve a few things today... There are the living arrangements, and social obligations. I don't expect us to be involved in every aspect of each other's lives, but it has to be believable. There's no point to this otherwise..." A ghost of a smile escaped his lips, as he shook his head and met her napalm grey eyes with his ocean blue ones. "Believable, yeah? The thought absolutely did not cross my mind at all." He smiled innocently at her, an eyebrow raised in mock relief. "Why hadn't I thought of that? Thank you for bringing it up, truly."
Without missing a beat, she carried on. "We should also discuss the ceremony. Unfortunately there's no way to keep it really small, but I hope we can at least keep it... unrowdy. I don't have the time to deal with those things, certainly not on a regular basis." Truthfully their marriage is the farthest thing in his mind at the moment; all he wanted is to get the damned contract dealt with, but that did not mean that he cannot have a bit of amusement at present. "Or maybe you just don't have the time to do anything fun at all. In possibly..." He turned his gaze to the downpour outside, pretending to think for moment, "...ever. Have you thought about that, Charlotte? I don't think so." He smiled smugly at her, wondering how she'll take it. "But alright," grabbing the pen resting on the table, he leaned backwards, straining to read the words printed on the paper, "Unrowdy. Got it. Anything you want, princess." Brows furrowing as he scanned the blurry page, he finally found what he was looking for, and signed his name.
When she asked him if he had anything else to address, he only shrugged. Despite all the sarcasm, he had given a day to mull over the contract, and he found that he only had a couple minor concerns. "Two things.
One, no one except my father and I knows about this contract. We trust our House with our lives, but our brothers just don't know when to keep their damn mouths shut. So, they think this is the real deal, and we'd prefer it that way. And two..." averting his gaze, Lukas absentmindedly raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, "we're going to need seperate rooms. That's non-negotiable."
Without missing a beat, she carried on. "We should also discuss the ceremony. Unfortunately there's no way to keep it really small, but I hope we can at least keep it... unrowdy. I don't have the time to deal with those things, certainly not on a regular basis." Truthfully their marriage is the farthest thing in his mind at the moment; all he wanted is to get the damned contract dealt with, but that did not mean that he cannot have a bit of amusement at present. "Or maybe you just don't have the time to do anything fun at all. In possibly..." He turned his gaze to the downpour outside, pretending to think for moment, "...ever. Have you thought about that, Charlotte? I don't think so." He smiled smugly at her, wondering how she'll take it. "But alright," grabbing the pen resting on the table, he leaned backwards, straining to read the words printed on the paper, "Unrowdy. Got it. Anything you want, princess." Brows furrowing as he scanned the blurry page, he finally found what he was looking for, and signed his name.
When she asked him if he had anything else to address, he only shrugged. Despite all the sarcasm, he had given a day to mull over the contract, and he found that he only had a couple minor concerns. "Two things.
One, no one except my father and I knows about this contract. We trust our House with our lives, but our brothers just don't know when to keep their damn mouths shut. So, they think this is the real deal, and we'd prefer it that way. And two..." averting his gaze, Lukas absentmindedly raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, "we're going to need seperate rooms. That's non-negotiable."
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That day, that man, seemed intent on trying Charlotte's patience, pushing it to its limits. She wasn't all that patient to begin with, she wasn't exactly thrilled about this whole thing in the first place, and it was certainly way too early to deal with that childish, idiotic, snide, little son of a-
Taking a deep breath through her nose, Charlie slowly let it out. As much as she wanted to balance out that ugly bruise with a similar one on his left eye, she had a feeling this was exactly what Lukas was trying to get out of her. And she'd be damned if she gave him this satisfaction.
"I wasn't sure how many things could cross your mind at the moment," she gave him a smile that was anything but pleasant. "Concussions are nasty that way, and you look like you might be suffering from one. Poor thing." She made sure to clearly enunciate the last two words, injecting them with as much poison as possible.
If her mood was bad when she first woke up, it was so much worse now. The reality of having to spend the rest of her life with that clown dawned on her heavier and heavier with every passing minute. His little attempt at a jab at her wasn't as shocking as he had probably hoped it would be- people have been trying her out for her entire life. He would have to make a bit more of an effort to really shake her. Holding back the little comment about how the title 'princess' seemed more fitting to him than it did her, Charlotte tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, letting out a small chuckle as she did- an all in all very Joaquin-esque gesture.
"You're right," she said, watching with mild surprise as Lukas so easily signed the contract. "I don't have a lot of free time. I don't know what is that you do or how you Brighams go about things, but I'm a busy person. I don't just live off my parents and do whatever I feel like. So I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't drop another mess into my hands," she caught the cool pools of his eyes in hers. "They're already full as it is."
Once she was done talking, Charlie waited, deceitfully politely, to hear Lukas' terms. She wasn't sure what he was about to come up with, but she prepared for the worse. He seemed like he might come out with some outrageous, bizarre demand just to spite her. His first request, although causing her to arch a brow, wasn't all that weird. To be fair, not everyone in their house knew the extant of the business-side of this deal either. Although most of them assumed, based on their acquaintance with Charlotte, this was not an emotionally driven decision, they also didn't know how reluctantly she was getting into this marriage.
His second request made Charlie, who was just taking a sip of her water, to nearly spit it all out as she let out a short surprised laugh. Lucky for... well, probably the both of them, before she had a chance to make another nasty comment, Maria showed up with two steaming cups and a tray full of small baked goods. The scent of fresh coffee and butter filled the air, immediately making Charlie's mood improve a little.
"It's not good to start the day without eating," she chided them amiably. "You're both too skinny. And you Hija, we need to make sure the dress fits you well," she lovingly pinched Charlie's cheek between the first knuckles of her fore and middle fingers, an act that would have pushed Charlie to severe violence had it been done by anyone else. She dropped her eyes to the table, the rosiness in her cheeks deepening into a vibrant scarlet at Maria's next words. "You forget to eat when you're stressed. Tu Papa would look better than you walking you down the aisle if that dress won't fit. Ah, but basta. I'll let you kids get back to your business. Call me if you need anything."
With one last wide smile, Maria left them alone once again, leaving behind the lingering thought that made shivers run down Charlie's spine. Her own image, in a big wedding dress, walking down the aisle towards Lukas. It was making her very uncomfortable. Wildly so. She couldn't place her finger on the reason as to why it was though.
Taking a drink from her coffee (black, no sugar) to compose herself, Charlie coughed before looking at Lukas again. "Fine, no mention of the contract. It'd be helpful if we could keep this up around our House as well, just to avoid unnecessary questions. You'll have to be a much better actor than this though if you want to fool anyone. As for the rooms... well, trust me when I say I had no other intention. Our estate would happily provide you your own living space until we find a place we both agree on. Although I can only keep the questions about the separate rooms away until the ceremony."
Actually, she had a feeling more than a few people in their House would feel much more uncomfortable if they were to share a room, especially before marriage. While she was no princess, and not one person at the Ayton House treated her as once for almost 15 years, honor was a completely different matter. She had a hunch some of their men wouldn't look favorably at the Horseman's son sharing her room before they even married. Things were complicated between their families, enough so that even this union wasn't about to solve them so easily. In fact, now that she was thinking about it...
"I would also like anything regarding our House to go through me." Charlie stated after a moment of silence. "If any of your men has something to do with us, I want it to pass through me."
Taking a deep breath through her nose, Charlie slowly let it out. As much as she wanted to balance out that ugly bruise with a similar one on his left eye, she had a feeling this was exactly what Lukas was trying to get out of her. And she'd be damned if she gave him this satisfaction.
"I wasn't sure how many things could cross your mind at the moment," she gave him a smile that was anything but pleasant. "Concussions are nasty that way, and you look like you might be suffering from one. Poor thing." She made sure to clearly enunciate the last two words, injecting them with as much poison as possible.
If her mood was bad when she first woke up, it was so much worse now. The reality of having to spend the rest of her life with that clown dawned on her heavier and heavier with every passing minute. His little attempt at a jab at her wasn't as shocking as he had probably hoped it would be- people have been trying her out for her entire life. He would have to make a bit more of an effort to really shake her. Holding back the little comment about how the title 'princess' seemed more fitting to him than it did her, Charlotte tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, letting out a small chuckle as she did- an all in all very Joaquin-esque gesture.
"You're right," she said, watching with mild surprise as Lukas so easily signed the contract. "I don't have a lot of free time. I don't know what is that you do or how you Brighams go about things, but I'm a busy person. I don't just live off my parents and do whatever I feel like. So I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't drop another mess into my hands," she caught the cool pools of his eyes in hers. "They're already full as it is."
Once she was done talking, Charlie waited, deceitfully politely, to hear Lukas' terms. She wasn't sure what he was about to come up with, but she prepared for the worse. He seemed like he might come out with some outrageous, bizarre demand just to spite her. His first request, although causing her to arch a brow, wasn't all that weird. To be fair, not everyone in their house knew the extant of the business-side of this deal either. Although most of them assumed, based on their acquaintance with Charlotte, this was not an emotionally driven decision, they also didn't know how reluctantly she was getting into this marriage.
His second request made Charlie, who was just taking a sip of her water, to nearly spit it all out as she let out a short surprised laugh. Lucky for... well, probably the both of them, before she had a chance to make another nasty comment, Maria showed up with two steaming cups and a tray full of small baked goods. The scent of fresh coffee and butter filled the air, immediately making Charlie's mood improve a little.
"It's not good to start the day without eating," she chided them amiably. "You're both too skinny. And you Hija, we need to make sure the dress fits you well," she lovingly pinched Charlie's cheek between the first knuckles of her fore and middle fingers, an act that would have pushed Charlie to severe violence had it been done by anyone else. She dropped her eyes to the table, the rosiness in her cheeks deepening into a vibrant scarlet at Maria's next words. "You forget to eat when you're stressed. Tu Papa would look better than you walking you down the aisle if that dress won't fit. Ah, but basta. I'll let you kids get back to your business. Call me if you need anything."
With one last wide smile, Maria left them alone once again, leaving behind the lingering thought that made shivers run down Charlie's spine. Her own image, in a big wedding dress, walking down the aisle towards Lukas. It was making her very uncomfortable. Wildly so. She couldn't place her finger on the reason as to why it was though.
Taking a drink from her coffee (black, no sugar) to compose herself, Charlie coughed before looking at Lukas again. "Fine, no mention of the contract. It'd be helpful if we could keep this up around our House as well, just to avoid unnecessary questions. You'll have to be a much better actor than this though if you want to fool anyone. As for the rooms... well, trust me when I say I had no other intention. Our estate would happily provide you your own living space until we find a place we both agree on. Although I can only keep the questions about the separate rooms away until the ceremony."
Actually, she had a feeling more than a few people in their House would feel much more uncomfortable if they were to share a room, especially before marriage. While she was no princess, and not one person at the Ayton House treated her as once for almost 15 years, honor was a completely different matter. She had a hunch some of their men wouldn't look favorably at the Horseman's son sharing her room before they even married. Things were complicated between their families, enough so that even this union wasn't about to solve them so easily. In fact, now that she was thinking about it...
"I would also like anything regarding our House to go through me." Charlie stated after a moment of silence. "If any of your men has something to do with us, I want it to pass through me."
Svadilfari
The mediocre Gatsby
The skies groaned as the rain kept mindlessly pattering on, drumming wildly on the skylight. Through the weeping glass panes, the city has been reduced to faded splotches of hazy blues, forest greens, and somber greys, all obscured by the torrent. As their voices carried through the downpour, the pale, orange glow of the lamp light flickered twice above them.
"Concussions are nasty that way, and you look like you might be suffering from one. Poor thing."
"Thanks for the concern. I love you too, Charlie."
The response surprisingly came easily to him, dripping sickly sweet derision as he uttered the last sentence with an innocent grin. And though the regret of walking had been gnawing at him since the weather had worsened, it dawned on him then, as much as he hated to admit it, that the prospect of being stranded did not taste as bitter as he thought it would be. He didn't mind it, not even if he had to spend the moment with her. Not even if they carried on with their amusingly pointless banter, as she felt the need to parry every inane word he said. Certainly not even then.
There was just something about the Ayton woman that felt familiar, as if at some point in his future, she had always been a constant. And the thought scared him, not knowing where it came from, until he remembered the glaring bruise he had somehow acquired the night before.
"I really am out of my fucking mind," Lukas muttered under his breath, as he heard Charlotte laugh at something he had probably said.
She was right.
He does have a damned concussion.
He was barely listening at that point, completely unaware that he had mechanically raised a hand as if to smoke, momentarily forgetting where he was at present. He caught himself however, and ran it through his hair instead, frowing at his force of habit. He needed something to take the edge off, and an answer immediately came, in the wrong form of a steaming blue cup placed before him.
By the tiny pale flowers and slender dried leaves swirling lazily in the golden water, he immediately knew what it is; Maria never once missed the chance to make the ridiculous tea for him.
"Drink," she cut him off before he can open his mouth in protest, "It is not that hot."
"I got some sle-"
"Drink."
The command was heavily ennunciated, the 'r' rolling thick and heavy with her accent. And like a perfect schoolboy being chastised for a misdemeanor, the brunet obediently downed the chamomile in a single swig. "Very good. That was not so bad, is it? I will get some more for you," Maria smiled, perfectly pleased with herself as she patted his head. He had told her many times that it did not work, and many times did she refuse to listen to him. If you would only let it do its job, it would, she told him once, a long time ago, when her hair was still dark and thick, and her voice young and whiskey light. But you couldn't because of those wretched cigarrillos. You should throw them out where they belong. You'll kill yourself long before anyone else could, hijo.
"You really don't have to worry about me, Connie," Lukas tried to reassure her as he handed over his empty cup. But the older woman was not so easily swayed. "Well then who will?" She gestured to the burns on his fingers, before clicking her tongue in disapproval as she set down a plateful of pastries.
"It's not good to start the day without eating."
He let out a breath he did not know he was holding, relief evident on his countenance at the change of subject. When Maria caught Charlotte between her knobby fingers, Lukas couldn't help but snigger. He was painfully aware of how much that could possibly had hurt, experiencing it for himself not too long ago. Her next words however, made the brunet choke on the pastry he was slowly working on, reducing him to a coughing mess. "Tu Papa would look better than you walking you down the aisle if that dress won't fit." Reaching for the glass of water, he tried to push the damned thought aside, willing it deeper into the recesses of his mind with each measured sip. But as soon as he set the glass down with finality, the image came again, unwarranted, like a late night stubborn memory. An image of Charlotte Ayton, clad in her wedding dress, impossibly kissing him.
Clearing his throat, he briefly apologized, hoping that the flush on his face had gone unnoticed. As Maria left and Charlotte continued on to acknowledge his terms, he took the time to regain his composure. "Our estate would happily provide you your own living space until we find a place we both agree on. Although I can only keep the questions about the separate rooms away until the ceremony." That was all he needed. Truthfully, the seperate rooms are not a concerning issue, not at least when it comes their House, which she'll come to know about. He just wanted to be left alone to his habits if he needed to spend time at hers, which he is sure he would be required to do. "And the same goes for me," he finished, approving of her final statement. "So if you have anyth--"
"Is that who I think it is?"
As the cafe door opened, a newcomer hurriedly walked over to their table, worn-out boots leaving puddles of half-crescent marks on the wooden floor.
"I knew it was you!" the newcomer exclaimed, before suddenly looking with confusion at the two of them.
Charlie wasn't sure which one she hated less- the aggregation Lukas caused her almost every time he opened his mouth, or the humiliation of being treated like a child. There sure was comfort in the fact she wasn't the only one chided, but it wasn't enough to cover just how much she hated it. Actually, she almost preferred the venomous back-and-forth with Lukas. As annoying as he could be, his replies showed he at least had a brain, and that is even might not have been damaged beyond repair.
If they could somehow find a way to keep their interactions to a minimum, she could live with that, Charlotte decided. Him mirroring her last request gave her the smallest glint of hope this deal could be manageable. For a moment there, Charlie could almost see Lukas as just another business partner- what he essentially was. Maybe if she could keep her feelings better in check, to keep her emotions out of this arrangement, she could see it for what it was- a business deal. Those she could work with. She dealt with them every day, even enjoyed some of them. Maybe if she could take a step back to try to bring things back to neutrality, maybe they'll be able to-
"Is that who I think it is?"
Charlie's eyes instinctively lifted to search for the source of the voice, immediately narrowing when they landed on him. A familiar, and not in a good way, blonde was making his way to their table, leaving a trail of mess behind him.
"I knew it was you!"
"Can I help you?" Charlotte asked calmly, almost monotonously. Contrary to the impression she might have given, she knew exactly who he was. Derek Linden was a small time dealer that used to work for their house. That is, until he broke their most valued principle.
"Busy at work so early in the morning Charlie? Do you like screwing people over to go with your coffee? Or does the ice queen actually has a personal life?"
She watched him look from her to Lukas, his expression slowly changing from smug, to confused, to a mixture of disbelief and bitterness when he took him in.
"Are you serious? he laughed. "Are you serious? So is this why you decided to drop us so you can work with the Horseman? You got to be kidding me."
Charlie remained silent, assessing the situation and trying to decide the best and fastest way to disarm it. Now that he was close enough, she could smell the unmistakable stench of alcohol coming from Derek, most likely a result of a long night of drinking that only recently ended. She would have sent him flying, if it wasn't for Lukas. She hadn't signed the contract just yet, and she couldn't allow an incident caused by a disgruntled small fry to make their deal fall through.
Unfortunately, it seemed Derek was intent on making it harder for her.
"I'm telling you now man," he turned his attention directly to Lukas. "Don't deal with them. They're a bunch of snakes. Would throw you out the moment they'll find something better."
"If I remember correctly, you were the one who sold inside information to Geron. I don't think you're in a position to talk about snakes" Charlie hissed at him. As poorly as she thought of her future husband, he was nowehere near as bad as Derek, and she didn't want him or the likes of him near him. She couldn't risk him making Lukas change his mind. She needed Derek to stay away from Lukas. And it seemed she succeeded.
"What's that?" Derek whirled around to face her again, this time stepping uncomfortably close, invading her personal space as he stood right at the edge of her seat. "You think you're something special, don't you? Puffing your chest so you could play with the boys, when everyone knows you're nothing more than a-"
"Back off."
Charlie wasn't sure when, but in a swift second Jamal was standing on her other side. At almost 6'5, Jamal towered over just about every other person, the same way he did Derek right now. She wasn't sure whether it was drunkness or just general stupidity, but surprisingly enough he didn't budge an inch. Despite the glaring startes Jamal was sending his way, Derek didn't sway. Without breaking eye contact with Charlotte, he reached for one of the flaky pastries on the table, crumbling it in his hand and very deliberately letting the crumbs fall all over her lap.
"Or what?" He smirked. "What are you going to do?"
If they could somehow find a way to keep their interactions to a minimum, she could live with that, Charlotte decided. Him mirroring her last request gave her the smallest glint of hope this deal could be manageable. For a moment there, Charlie could almost see Lukas as just another business partner- what he essentially was. Maybe if she could keep her feelings better in check, to keep her emotions out of this arrangement, she could see it for what it was- a business deal. Those she could work with. She dealt with them every day, even enjoyed some of them. Maybe if she could take a step back to try to bring things back to neutrality, maybe they'll be able to-
"Is that who I think it is?"
Charlie's eyes instinctively lifted to search for the source of the voice, immediately narrowing when they landed on him. A familiar, and not in a good way, blonde was making his way to their table, leaving a trail of mess behind him.
"I knew it was you!"
"Can I help you?" Charlotte asked calmly, almost monotonously. Contrary to the impression she might have given, she knew exactly who he was. Derek Linden was a small time dealer that used to work for their house. That is, until he broke their most valued principle.
"Busy at work so early in the morning Charlie? Do you like screwing people over to go with your coffee? Or does the ice queen actually has a personal life?"
She watched him look from her to Lukas, his expression slowly changing from smug, to confused, to a mixture of disbelief and bitterness when he took him in.
"Are you serious? he laughed. "Are you serious? So is this why you decided to drop us so you can work with the Horseman? You got to be kidding me."
Charlie remained silent, assessing the situation and trying to decide the best and fastest way to disarm it. Now that he was close enough, she could smell the unmistakable stench of alcohol coming from Derek, most likely a result of a long night of drinking that only recently ended. She would have sent him flying, if it wasn't for Lukas. She hadn't signed the contract just yet, and she couldn't allow an incident caused by a disgruntled small fry to make their deal fall through.
Unfortunately, it seemed Derek was intent on making it harder for her.
"I'm telling you now man," he turned his attention directly to Lukas. "Don't deal with them. They're a bunch of snakes. Would throw you out the moment they'll find something better."
"If I remember correctly, you were the one who sold inside information to Geron. I don't think you're in a position to talk about snakes" Charlie hissed at him. As poorly as she thought of her future husband, he was nowehere near as bad as Derek, and she didn't want him or the likes of him near him. She couldn't risk him making Lukas change his mind. She needed Derek to stay away from Lukas. And it seemed she succeeded.
"What's that?" Derek whirled around to face her again, this time stepping uncomfortably close, invading her personal space as he stood right at the edge of her seat. "You think you're something special, don't you? Puffing your chest so you could play with the boys, when everyone knows you're nothing more than a-"
"Back off."
Charlie wasn't sure when, but in a swift second Jamal was standing on her other side. At almost 6'5, Jamal towered over just about every other person, the same way he did Derek right now. She wasn't sure whether it was drunkness or just general stupidity, but surprisingly enough he didn't budge an inch. Despite the glaring startes Jamal was sending his way, Derek didn't sway. Without breaking eye contact with Charlotte, he reached for one of the flaky pastries on the table, crumbling it in his hand and very deliberately letting the crumbs fall all over her lap.
"Or what?" He smirked. "What are you going to do?"
Svadilfari
The mediocre Gatsby
He looked older than he probably is; tall and thin, with long, flaxen blond hair slicked back over a gaunt profile, his wiry countenance sopping wet from the rain. He strode over to them with a sway in his gait, the heel of his boots clacking purposefully across the wooden floor, cigar stains on his teeth visible from the wolfish grin plastered, plain as day, on his burned face. As soon as he opened his mouth to speak, it became clear to the room that the man is deeply inebriated. "I knew it was you!" The words came slow and stubborn to him, thick and guttural from the back of his throat. And though she tried to dismiss his intrusion with a calm indifference, the steel on her gaze said otherwise. "Can I help you?" She knows him, he is sure of it, and so does he. Yet judging from the words that soon followed, possibly not as intimately as she once did. "Busy at work so early in the morning Charlie? Do you like screwing people over to go with your coffee? Or does the ice queen actually has a personal life?"
He looked at him again, a familiar marked stranger he had seen once, dealing arms in a pub downtown, and twice in his study, the blond trying to start a paltry negotiation that was already over the moment he walked in. Out of all the munition dealers, the Linden boy is as slow as they come, and it showed now, as he tried to start a singular fight with one of the oldest families, in a place of designated ceasefire. The absolute madman. "Are you serious? Are you serious? So is this why you decided to drop us so you can work with the Horseman? You got to be kidding me." He wondered if the blond can feel the eyes on him from the few people there are in the cafe. The vapid prick is now drawing unwanted attention to their unfinished meeting, and what little patience he had left for him is slowly dissipating as his voice grated his nerves, every time he opened his godforsaken mouth.
"I'm telling you now man, don't deal with them. They're a bunch of snakes. Would throw you out the moment they'll find something better." Clearly, Derek Linden hasn't met his father. Gavril Brigham has a title he so aptly acquired due to his unforgiving nature: the Headless Horseman, a name made for a man who reaps and had never sown. He deals with his enemies the same way he deals with those that had far outlived their usefulness; it made them their power, and costed them their peace, leaving them in an affluent estate, surrounded by enemies. Hence the contract with the Lady of the Blue Rose. Hence today. If the Aytons are snakes, then what does that make them?
It did not take long before the conflict started to escalate. A moment after Derek stepped dangerously close to her, one of the guests seated behind them moved to stand beside her in an instant. "Back off." There was a calm intensity to the order; a measured warning with an ugly promise. Charlotte had brought one of their men along with her, a head taller and a lot leaner than most in the room, and yet the blond paid him no mind, going as far as to humiliate her as she watched the broken pieces of pastry fall and settle in a sticky mess on her lap. "Or what? What are you going to do?"
For the first time since Derek's arrival, Lukas finally fully acknowledged his presence. The age old non-violence pact is about to be tarnished, the contract signing compromised, and a year worth of planning is all going to go up in flames all because the man had too much to drink on a Sunday morning. Derek Linden is now a liability, and he had to take care of it. Purgamentum Exit. Refuse out. "I think you should apologize to my fiancée ," Lukas replied to the question with a firm finality to his voice, "or we'd have to go and talk outside." Leaning back comfortably on his seat, he met the blond's challenging gaze, the blues of his eyes reflecting the heavy storm. "It is pouring out, but I honestly don't mind. I've always liked the rain." A minute passed as he waited for a response, all the while wondering if the threat registered in the man's vacuous head. "Your fianc--" His brows furrowed, as he looked incredulously at the Horseman's son and his former employer. "Wh-- Fiancée? I didn't--- Alright man... Let's talk. I have a proposition." Smiling a tight smile, Lukas got up and walked over to Charlotte, offering her a napkin to wipe the mess off. Cupping her cheek, he kissed the top of her flaming red hair, "I'll be right back, Charlie," he told her with a soft sincerity that he could muster, remembering her jab at how he was a terrible actor. Excusing himself, he patted her guard once on the shoulder, before grabbing his coat heading out.
Outside the skies are still terribly weeping. Derek followed suit, close to his heel, shutting the door behind them.
"Alright man, as for that proposition I was talking about. First off, I am sorry for what I did to your girl. I didn't know about this, clearly. I did what I did because I was angry and insulted. And she can be a real fucking bitch sometimes. No offense."
Under the shade of the crimson red awning, he prattled on, oblivious. Lukas can only suppress a laugh in disbelief, as he shook his head, fishing his pockets for a cigarette.
"Looking for a cig?"
"Yeah, you got one?"
He reached inside his coat and opened a pack.
"Derek, was it? Linden? I knew your father. You have a... A shop downtown. Linden Automotive?" The blond nodded and reached to light his cig for him. "A good business; not large, but manageable. Making enough, more than enough. Cars just keep breaking down in that part of town for some reason."
Derek chuckled knowingly. "Oh, do they? I got no idea. But good for business I guess. "
"Sure is," the brunet nodded, watching the smoke dissipate along with the wind and rain. "And you've got your other trade with munitions. That one is doing a bit better than the automotive front. You got a girlfriend, yeah? Brown hair, green eyes, pretty little face? What's her name again? Laura? Clara?"
"Clara."
"Right. The point is, Derek," taking a deep, final drag, Lukas smashed the butt of the cigarette on the blond's eye, the force knocking him backwards against the glass windows, with a sickening thud. Screaming at the searing pain, Derek trashed wildly about, trying desperately to take a swing at his attacker, bringing them both out from under the safety of the shade. "You've got a good amount of years ahead of you, yeah? So I suggest that you never talk to Charlie again, or speak about her, or even to come anywhere near her." A deep pool of crimson started to well up from underneath his hand as he continued to push deeper into the blond's eye, the burning organ slowly sinking unto itself from the pressure. "Because the next time I see you, will be the last time I will. And I don't think Clara will like it."
"You fucking lunatic !" Pinned to the ground and blinded by rain and blood, Derek desperately reached out and managed to grab a fistful of Lukas's hair, pulling him closer to claw heavily at his injury, jagged fingernails rending flesh. And just as sudden, he felt the weight lift off of him, as the brunet went back on his feet with a pained grunt.
"Well, that was a nice little chat, wasn't it?" He can feel something warm and sticky run down his cheek, and when he touched his temple his hand came out a stark red. Running a weary hand through his hair, Lukas closed his eyes and tilted his head, letting the downpour cleanse his lacerations. Looking back down, Derek had finally gotten to his feet, silent and out of breath, a battered hand cradling the side of his face. When he turned to go, he heard him shout something against the deluge, but the wind carried it away before he could make sense of it. "When you're done, I still expect your apology to Charlie." With an afterthought, he added, "And can you do me a favor and not tell everyone about our relationship? We're trying to keep it a secret," knowing full well that he'd do just the opposite.
Back inside, Lukas replaced his coat on the rack, annoyed at mildly getting drenched and having to stew in his damp clothing for the duration of the meeting. With all eyes on him, he took his seat, a kerchief pressed to the fresh cuts Derek had so kindly given him. Placing a hand on the contract, he slid it across the table, into her reach, an eyebrow raised in a quiet question. "The things I do for you, Charlie" he grinned, wincing at the effort, "I promise, I'd try to be less rowdy than this."
He looked at him again, a familiar marked stranger he had seen once, dealing arms in a pub downtown, and twice in his study, the blond trying to start a paltry negotiation that was already over the moment he walked in. Out of all the munition dealers, the Linden boy is as slow as they come, and it showed now, as he tried to start a singular fight with one of the oldest families, in a place of designated ceasefire. The absolute madman. "Are you serious? Are you serious? So is this why you decided to drop us so you can work with the Horseman? You got to be kidding me." He wondered if the blond can feel the eyes on him from the few people there are in the cafe. The vapid prick is now drawing unwanted attention to their unfinished meeting, and what little patience he had left for him is slowly dissipating as his voice grated his nerves, every time he opened his godforsaken mouth.
"I'm telling you now man, don't deal with them. They're a bunch of snakes. Would throw you out the moment they'll find something better." Clearly, Derek Linden hasn't met his father. Gavril Brigham has a title he so aptly acquired due to his unforgiving nature: the Headless Horseman, a name made for a man who reaps and had never sown. He deals with his enemies the same way he deals with those that had far outlived their usefulness; it made them their power, and costed them their peace, leaving them in an affluent estate, surrounded by enemies. Hence the contract with the Lady of the Blue Rose. Hence today. If the Aytons are snakes, then what does that make them?
It did not take long before the conflict started to escalate. A moment after Derek stepped dangerously close to her, one of the guests seated behind them moved to stand beside her in an instant. "Back off." There was a calm intensity to the order; a measured warning with an ugly promise. Charlotte had brought one of their men along with her, a head taller and a lot leaner than most in the room, and yet the blond paid him no mind, going as far as to humiliate her as she watched the broken pieces of pastry fall and settle in a sticky mess on her lap. "Or what? What are you going to do?"
For the first time since Derek's arrival, Lukas finally fully acknowledged his presence. The age old non-violence pact is about to be tarnished, the contract signing compromised, and a year worth of planning is all going to go up in flames all because the man had too much to drink on a Sunday morning. Derek Linden is now a liability, and he had to take care of it. Purgamentum Exit. Refuse out. "I think you should apologize to my fiancée ," Lukas replied to the question with a firm finality to his voice, "or we'd have to go and talk outside." Leaning back comfortably on his seat, he met the blond's challenging gaze, the blues of his eyes reflecting the heavy storm. "It is pouring out, but I honestly don't mind. I've always liked the rain." A minute passed as he waited for a response, all the while wondering if the threat registered in the man's vacuous head. "Your fianc--" His brows furrowed, as he looked incredulously at the Horseman's son and his former employer. "Wh-- Fiancée? I didn't--- Alright man... Let's talk. I have a proposition." Smiling a tight smile, Lukas got up and walked over to Charlotte, offering her a napkin to wipe the mess off. Cupping her cheek, he kissed the top of her flaming red hair, "I'll be right back, Charlie," he told her with a soft sincerity that he could muster, remembering her jab at how he was a terrible actor. Excusing himself, he patted her guard once on the shoulder, before grabbing his coat heading out.
Outside the skies are still terribly weeping. Derek followed suit, close to his heel, shutting the door behind them.
"Alright man, as for that proposition I was talking about. First off, I am sorry for what I did to your girl. I didn't know about this, clearly. I did what I did because I was angry and insulted. And she can be a real fucking bitch sometimes. No offense."
Under the shade of the crimson red awning, he prattled on, oblivious. Lukas can only suppress a laugh in disbelief, as he shook his head, fishing his pockets for a cigarette.
"Looking for a cig?"
"Yeah, you got one?"
He reached inside his coat and opened a pack.
"Derek, was it? Linden? I knew your father. You have a... A shop downtown. Linden Automotive?" The blond nodded and reached to light his cig for him. "A good business; not large, but manageable. Making enough, more than enough. Cars just keep breaking down in that part of town for some reason."
Derek chuckled knowingly. "Oh, do they? I got no idea. But good for business I guess. "
"Sure is," the brunet nodded, watching the smoke dissipate along with the wind and rain. "And you've got your other trade with munitions. That one is doing a bit better than the automotive front. You got a girlfriend, yeah? Brown hair, green eyes, pretty little face? What's her name again? Laura? Clara?"
"Clara."
"Right. The point is, Derek," taking a deep, final drag, Lukas smashed the butt of the cigarette on the blond's eye, the force knocking him backwards against the glass windows, with a sickening thud. Screaming at the searing pain, Derek trashed wildly about, trying desperately to take a swing at his attacker, bringing them both out from under the safety of the shade. "You've got a good amount of years ahead of you, yeah? So I suggest that you never talk to Charlie again, or speak about her, or even to come anywhere near her." A deep pool of crimson started to well up from underneath his hand as he continued to push deeper into the blond's eye, the burning organ slowly sinking unto itself from the pressure. "Because the next time I see you, will be the last time I will. And I don't think Clara will like it."
"You fucking lunatic !" Pinned to the ground and blinded by rain and blood, Derek desperately reached out and managed to grab a fistful of Lukas's hair, pulling him closer to claw heavily at his injury, jagged fingernails rending flesh. And just as sudden, he felt the weight lift off of him, as the brunet went back on his feet with a pained grunt.
"Well, that was a nice little chat, wasn't it?" He can feel something warm and sticky run down his cheek, and when he touched his temple his hand came out a stark red. Running a weary hand through his hair, Lukas closed his eyes and tilted his head, letting the downpour cleanse his lacerations. Looking back down, Derek had finally gotten to his feet, silent and out of breath, a battered hand cradling the side of his face. When he turned to go, he heard him shout something against the deluge, but the wind carried it away before he could make sense of it. "When you're done, I still expect your apology to Charlie." With an afterthought, he added, "And can you do me a favor and not tell everyone about our relationship? We're trying to keep it a secret," knowing full well that he'd do just the opposite.
Back inside, Lukas replaced his coat on the rack, annoyed at mildly getting drenched and having to stew in his damp clothing for the duration of the meeting. With all eyes on him, he took his seat, a kerchief pressed to the fresh cuts Derek had so kindly given him. Placing a hand on the contract, he slid it across the table, into her reach, an eyebrow raised in a quiet question. "The things I do for you, Charlie" he grinned, wincing at the effort, "I promise, I'd try to be less rowdy than this."
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Charlotte met Derek's challenging gaze with an unwavering one. Clearly, he was trying to provoke her, and she was much too experienced to fall for it. She was just about to suggest he takes this empty threats and shove them somewhere where the sun don't shine, when Lukas intervened.
Boy, it was a good thing Derek's attention got distracted, because the face she was making- jaw dropped and eyes widened in surprise- sure would have given him the exact ammunition he was looking for. What did Lukas just referred to her as?
Well, she supposed they were, technically, engaged. But hearing the word fiancee, and coming from Lukas for that matter... It took quite a lot to shock Charlie, but that went ahead and did it. And as if that wasn't enough, before she knew it he was chivalrously offering her a napkin, before lovingly kissing her. He was lucky she was too stunned to headbutt him.
Charlie's cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she wordlessly stared at the floor. She urged herself to wrap her head around what was going on, but she didn't even know where to begin. Derek coming for her was the easy part- it kind of came with the job. This was not exactly the first time Charlie had a standoff with a pissed off tough guy. That, however, was the first time anyone called her his fiancee. It was the first time Lukas Birgham did it. It was the first time he put on such a gentle, intimate facade in her presence. And... why did he do that? Surly it was not for her sake. Even if Derek was completely oblivious, she knew just as Lukas did that although they were engaged, there was certainly not a shred of emotion there. Was Lukas worried Derek would sabotage the deal as well? Or was that his way to prove to her he was a capable partner?
Either way, the gesture caught Charlie completely off guard, and left her confused enough that by the time she realized whatever Lukas was up to was no good, it was already too late. She was afraid going out there would only escalate things further, and if she was being completely honest- it also felt a little bit like she was crossing some invisible line, intruding Lukas' personal space. All she could do was watch anxiously at the unsuspecting Derek talk with her... fiance, while they were having a smoke. She was sure though, the reason Lukas pulled him outside was not for a friendly chat over a cigarette.
The sounds the windows made when Derek's body hit them still startled her enough to jump in her sit. She watched, together with the other shocked patrons of the cafe, at the fight developing outside. She couldn't make out anything of the loud murmurs around her, some panicked, some outraged. Unconsciously, she balled her hands into fists, nails digging into her palms.
It got worse, and then it got worser, and then it was over.
Only as Luaks walked back in, the murmurs dying into more of hushed voices, did she realize she was standing, holding her breathe and ready to lunge at a moment's notice. When did it happen? She tried searching her memory for the events of the last minutes, her eyes zeroing in on the gushing wound on the side of Lukas' head. Why did him getting attacked triggered this reaction? Charlotte was trained and experienced. She could stand so much more without as much as blinking. So why this?
The deep crease between her eyebrows didn't ease even a little when Lukas sat back down, offering her a sarcastic comment and the contract, both of which she completely ignored. Rounding the table until she stood right next to Lukas, she grabbed his chin, tilting his head so she could take a better look at his injury, clicking her tongue disapprovingly when she did. "Tsk, Tia is going to kill you," she took the stained handkerchief from him, replacing it with a fresh napkin she pressed onto the injury. A few feet away, Maria was busy passing between the patrons, trying to calm them down, but Charlie had no doubt that as soon she'll be done, her attention would be turned to Lukas. And when it would...
"We're going." She announced, half-dragging, half-helping Lukas up to his feet before bringing his hand to the napkin she was holding to his injury. The look she gave Jamal as she grabbed the contract caused him to immediately join them, escorting them through the looks and whispers out of the cafe and to the door of the car, the one he opened for them and through which Charlie unceremoniously shoved Lukas to the back sit before climbing in after him.
As the engine rumbled to life and the familiar front of Cafe Constanza quickly disappeared, replaced by the city flashing by, Charlotte turned her attention back to her guest. Reaching for the white linen napkin that was no longer so white, she lifted it to take a better look at his injury, a look of clear dissatisfaction crossing her face. "You didn't have to do it," she told the injury more than to the person who suffered it. "Do you really need more people to hold a grudge against you?"
After a moment of silent, the realization there was something she forgot to say dawned on her, making her avert her gaze even more. "Thanks," she mumbled quietly. "You really didn't have to go this far. I've dealt with much worse than him. But thanks." Even in the relative darkness of the car it was probably impossible to miss the blush that rose from her neck to her forehead, if how hot her face was anything to go by.
"Ugh," she had to say something to change the subject. "You're going to look like shit in the photos."
Boy, it was a good thing Derek's attention got distracted, because the face she was making- jaw dropped and eyes widened in surprise- sure would have given him the exact ammunition he was looking for. What did Lukas just referred to her as?
Well, she supposed they were, technically, engaged. But hearing the word fiancee, and coming from Lukas for that matter... It took quite a lot to shock Charlie, but that went ahead and did it. And as if that wasn't enough, before she knew it he was chivalrously offering her a napkin, before lovingly kissing her. He was lucky she was too stunned to headbutt him.
Charlie's cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she wordlessly stared at the floor. She urged herself to wrap her head around what was going on, but she didn't even know where to begin. Derek coming for her was the easy part- it kind of came with the job. This was not exactly the first time Charlie had a standoff with a pissed off tough guy. That, however, was the first time anyone called her his fiancee. It was the first time Lukas Birgham did it. It was the first time he put on such a gentle, intimate facade in her presence. And... why did he do that? Surly it was not for her sake. Even if Derek was completely oblivious, she knew just as Lukas did that although they were engaged, there was certainly not a shred of emotion there. Was Lukas worried Derek would sabotage the deal as well? Or was that his way to prove to her he was a capable partner?
Either way, the gesture caught Charlie completely off guard, and left her confused enough that by the time she realized whatever Lukas was up to was no good, it was already too late. She was afraid going out there would only escalate things further, and if she was being completely honest- it also felt a little bit like she was crossing some invisible line, intruding Lukas' personal space. All she could do was watch anxiously at the unsuspecting Derek talk with her... fiance, while they were having a smoke. She was sure though, the reason Lukas pulled him outside was not for a friendly chat over a cigarette.
The sounds the windows made when Derek's body hit them still startled her enough to jump in her sit. She watched, together with the other shocked patrons of the cafe, at the fight developing outside. She couldn't make out anything of the loud murmurs around her, some panicked, some outraged. Unconsciously, she balled her hands into fists, nails digging into her palms.
It got worse, and then it got worser, and then it was over.
Only as Luaks walked back in, the murmurs dying into more of hushed voices, did she realize she was standing, holding her breathe and ready to lunge at a moment's notice. When did it happen? She tried searching her memory for the events of the last minutes, her eyes zeroing in on the gushing wound on the side of Lukas' head. Why did him getting attacked triggered this reaction? Charlotte was trained and experienced. She could stand so much more without as much as blinking. So why this?
The deep crease between her eyebrows didn't ease even a little when Lukas sat back down, offering her a sarcastic comment and the contract, both of which she completely ignored. Rounding the table until she stood right next to Lukas, she grabbed his chin, tilting his head so she could take a better look at his injury, clicking her tongue disapprovingly when she did. "Tsk, Tia is going to kill you," she took the stained handkerchief from him, replacing it with a fresh napkin she pressed onto the injury. A few feet away, Maria was busy passing between the patrons, trying to calm them down, but Charlie had no doubt that as soon she'll be done, her attention would be turned to Lukas. And when it would...
"We're going." She announced, half-dragging, half-helping Lukas up to his feet before bringing his hand to the napkin she was holding to his injury. The look she gave Jamal as she grabbed the contract caused him to immediately join them, escorting them through the looks and whispers out of the cafe and to the door of the car, the one he opened for them and through which Charlie unceremoniously shoved Lukas to the back sit before climbing in after him.
As the engine rumbled to life and the familiar front of Cafe Constanza quickly disappeared, replaced by the city flashing by, Charlotte turned her attention back to her guest. Reaching for the white linen napkin that was no longer so white, she lifted it to take a better look at his injury, a look of clear dissatisfaction crossing her face. "You didn't have to do it," she told the injury more than to the person who suffered it. "Do you really need more people to hold a grudge against you?"
After a moment of silent, the realization there was something she forgot to say dawned on her, making her avert her gaze even more. "Thanks," she mumbled quietly. "You really didn't have to go this far. I've dealt with much worse than him. But thanks." Even in the relative darkness of the car it was probably impossible to miss the blush that rose from her neck to her forehead, if how hot her face was anything to go by.
"Ugh," she had to say something to change the subject. "You're going to look like shit in the photos."
Svadilfari
The mediocre Gatsby
"Tsk, Tia is going to kill you."
Her brows were knitted together, the apprehension apparent on the harsh lines that troubled her comely, freckled face. He was anticipating a reaction, but certainly not this kind. Not from her, and never this. He met her eyes and saw the careful disquiet in them, as the icy greys melted into the somber blues beneath. For a moment he dared to wonder if she had truly meant it, and the possible sincerity of it all made him feel something like falling.
Her slender fingers were achingly cool and kind, and he tensed under her touch, the feeling foreign and strangely right. As she pressed a napkin to his injury, pursing her lips at the sight of the blood, it became clear that she did not approve of what he had done. And for some odd reason he could not explain, he hated himself for it. For getting all mixed up in a nonsensical fight. For making her needlessly worry. He did not know where the unwarranted thought came from, and it made him uneasy, rendering him speechless throughout her actions, with the protest on his mind left unsaid as he let her drag him out to the rain.
Inside the safety of the car, his wounds were throbbing and his head hung heavy. The adrenaline is finally wearing off, and the pain is starting to reach an ugly intensity, clawing deep in his tired bones with a harsh earnestness. It was at that moment that she reached for him again, sternly assessing the damage that he was dealt.
"You didn't have to do it. Do you really need more people to hold a grudge against you?"
"I'm fine."
The response slipped so easily off his tongue, his voice thoughtlessly mechanical, betraying the countless times he had said it all before.
"So don't worry about it."
Averting his gaze to the window, he tried to focus on the city's muddled outline, trying to keep his consciousness awake, knowing full well he'd crash the moment he closes his eyes.
"Thanks."
It was a quiet mumble in the growing silence, but he heard it all the same. A ghost of a smile started on the corner of his mouth, and he turned to her, wanting to say something clever, but no words came. They got stuck on his throat the same way she was stuck looking at anywhere but him.
Her cheeks were aflame, matching the harsh tone of her sunkissed hair, and he hadn't missed it. She was painfully embarrassed, and visibly so. And then he wasn't feeling right again because of it. There was just something about what happened earlier, and him being there in the cramped backseat with Charlie, that is making him feel strange and unsteady; the sinking feeling only amplified by her ridiculous, dare he admit it- adorably timid sincerity.
It was hot.
Incredibly so.
Lukas raised a hand to unbutton his collar down a notch, the blooming flush on his neck dangerously flaring upwards.
He cleared his throat.
"Your problems are mine now too. And I'm sure you can handle him probably better than I did, but if you see him again, let me know. I made a promise, and I intend to keep it." He winced. His head is starting to throb again. He reached inside his coat pocket, looking for his phone, but it was nowhere to be found. It was probably around nine in the morning now. "Can I ask for you to drive me home? I have someone important waiting for me."
From the rearview mirror, the guard's dark eyes searched Charlotte for an affirmation, before circling the car around, following the directions he was given.
"You're going to look like shit in the photos."
"Thanks Charlie, really appreciate it." He smiled, glad for the change in subject, the start of a teasing grin creeping on his lips. "Same as you."
--
It did not take long for the car to come to a stop. They had reached the gates, the irons tall and imposing, weeping silver from the rain. From the side, a shadow moved, bearing the unmistakable shape of a rifle.
"Declarați afacerea dvs."
Lukas rolled down his window, and the man lowered his weapon, his gaze dour as it skimmed over the glaring injuries on his face. Reading his thoughts, the brunet shook his head. "Ele sunt prieteni. Don't do anything stupid, Ionel."
--
The double doors were made of oak gilded with leaves of gold, the polished wood dark, resplendent, and heavy, hiding an equally ornate and grim foyer behind it. "Our men can clear it, but not until tomorrow," He had never let anyone stay in their estate before, but with the growing storm, the unfinished business, and the fallen tree that blocked the gate minutes after they passed, he can see no other options. "We have a lot of rooms that are--"
"Vasi!"
A child bounded on him before he can finish. Short, curly blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and pale, stubby legs marred at the knees with faded brown bruises from careless play. "Yuck! You have paint on the face again." She wrinkled her nose, oversized glasses sliding off of it. "Mamă is teaching me English again." "Oh is she now? And what have I taught you about stealing?" Lukas went down on one knee and gently ruffled her corn coloured hair, to which she responded by giggling and replacing the thin, circle glasses on the brunet's face. "You leave it on your desk so I take it. Mamă said 'finders winners, losers suckers.'" Lukas snorted at the comment, a chuckle escaping his lips as he stood back up, lifting her easily in his arms. "I don't think that's how it goes Annalisa."
"How what goes?"
A dainty, breathy voice came from above the staircase.
"Ursul meu mic, where have you been?"
She came down the steps, the heel of her boots clacking heavily against the wood, her long, copper skirt flowing behind her. She touched the side of his head, her pale knobby fingers sticky from tracing the ugly, clotted mess. "This is getting ridiculous," she raised a brow at him, continuing her motherly reproach. "You are too much, you know that? You and Gavi both." She shook her head and crossed her arms at him, before noticing the strangers he had brought in.
"Oh, who are your guests?" Pushing her braid behind her shoulder, the brunette moved closer to the other two, her forest green eyes roving questioningly over them. One was dressed formally; tall and firm in solid black. A guard, she supposed. And the other...
"She's..." Lukas hesitated, stumbling over his words, which she quickly caught on to, forming a conclusion on her own. "The reason why you couldn't sleep at night?" She smiled at the younger woman, taking her hand in hers. "Oh, Morcovi, how long has he been hiding you from me?"
"Oprește-te, Alina. Ma faci de rusine."
"You cannot keep secrets from me, Vasile." She walked over to him and pulled two ivory envelopes from her pocket. "Arata familiar?" Alina waited a moment, watching the angry, quiet indignation cross her nephew's features, before suddenly remembering her manners. She picked Annalisa up from Lukas and placed her on her feet.
"Lisa, why don't you show our guests around the place, yes? And to their rooms. I believe they will have to stay the night. Trebuie să vorbesc cu vărul tău. Be a good girl, alright?" "Da, mamă." Alina kissed her daughter's cheek, before turning her attention back to the redhead. "We will talk later, Morcovi," she promised with a smile.
--
"We never have any people stay for bedtime before. You must be really special!" Annalisa beamed at her two new playmates, grabbing them both from each hand. She led them above the staircase, through a somber hallway, littered with ornate paintings and yellowed photos of faded people and curious places from long ago. The lamplight flickered as they walked past, and from behind the velvet drapes the storm raged on. "This is the area for the working people," she announced, suddenly bouncing to a stop in front of the third door. It had a flat, circular marble affixed at the center, painted black, white, and blue, resembling an eye. "That is Marinela's room. She is a witch, but no one believes me." With a shrug, Annalisa walked on, leading them through another flight of stairs, and another grand foyer, this time bigger and loftier than the last.
"Mister, you can have that one," she pointed to a beige door on the left, while looking at the scary man beside her. "I like that room. It has a very big tub like an ocean." She grinned at him. "And carrot lady's room should be that one also." She pointed to a darker, polished door at the end of another open hallway. "That room has the best softest bed." Spinning on her heel, the blonde looked at the both of them with curious, wide eyes. "You can ask me anything, I know a lot about this house and everyone in it. As long as you promise to play with me after."
Her brows were knitted together, the apprehension apparent on the harsh lines that troubled her comely, freckled face. He was anticipating a reaction, but certainly not this kind. Not from her, and never this. He met her eyes and saw the careful disquiet in them, as the icy greys melted into the somber blues beneath. For a moment he dared to wonder if she had truly meant it, and the possible sincerity of it all made him feel something like falling.
Her slender fingers were achingly cool and kind, and he tensed under her touch, the feeling foreign and strangely right. As she pressed a napkin to his injury, pursing her lips at the sight of the blood, it became clear that she did not approve of what he had done. And for some odd reason he could not explain, he hated himself for it. For getting all mixed up in a nonsensical fight. For making her needlessly worry. He did not know where the unwarranted thought came from, and it made him uneasy, rendering him speechless throughout her actions, with the protest on his mind left unsaid as he let her drag him out to the rain.
Inside the safety of the car, his wounds were throbbing and his head hung heavy. The adrenaline is finally wearing off, and the pain is starting to reach an ugly intensity, clawing deep in his tired bones with a harsh earnestness. It was at that moment that she reached for him again, sternly assessing the damage that he was dealt.
"You didn't have to do it. Do you really need more people to hold a grudge against you?"
"I'm fine."
The response slipped so easily off his tongue, his voice thoughtlessly mechanical, betraying the countless times he had said it all before.
"So don't worry about it."
Averting his gaze to the window, he tried to focus on the city's muddled outline, trying to keep his consciousness awake, knowing full well he'd crash the moment he closes his eyes.
"Thanks."
It was a quiet mumble in the growing silence, but he heard it all the same. A ghost of a smile started on the corner of his mouth, and he turned to her, wanting to say something clever, but no words came. They got stuck on his throat the same way she was stuck looking at anywhere but him.
Her cheeks were aflame, matching the harsh tone of her sunkissed hair, and he hadn't missed it. She was painfully embarrassed, and visibly so. And then he wasn't feeling right again because of it. There was just something about what happened earlier, and him being there in the cramped backseat with Charlie, that is making him feel strange and unsteady; the sinking feeling only amplified by her ridiculous, dare he admit it- adorably timid sincerity.
It was hot.
Incredibly so.
Lukas raised a hand to unbutton his collar down a notch, the blooming flush on his neck dangerously flaring upwards.
He cleared his throat.
"Your problems are mine now too. And I'm sure you can handle him probably better than I did, but if you see him again, let me know. I made a promise, and I intend to keep it." He winced. His head is starting to throb again. He reached inside his coat pocket, looking for his phone, but it was nowhere to be found. It was probably around nine in the morning now. "Can I ask for you to drive me home? I have someone important waiting for me."
From the rearview mirror, the guard's dark eyes searched Charlotte for an affirmation, before circling the car around, following the directions he was given.
"You're going to look like shit in the photos."
"Thanks Charlie, really appreciate it." He smiled, glad for the change in subject, the start of a teasing grin creeping on his lips. "Same as you."
--
It did not take long for the car to come to a stop. They had reached the gates, the irons tall and imposing, weeping silver from the rain. From the side, a shadow moved, bearing the unmistakable shape of a rifle.
"Declarați afacerea dvs."
Lukas rolled down his window, and the man lowered his weapon, his gaze dour as it skimmed over the glaring injuries on his face. Reading his thoughts, the brunet shook his head. "Ele sunt prieteni. Don't do anything stupid, Ionel."
--
The double doors were made of oak gilded with leaves of gold, the polished wood dark, resplendent, and heavy, hiding an equally ornate and grim foyer behind it. "Our men can clear it, but not until tomorrow," He had never let anyone stay in their estate before, but with the growing storm, the unfinished business, and the fallen tree that blocked the gate minutes after they passed, he can see no other options. "We have a lot of rooms that are--"
"Vasi!"
A child bounded on him before he can finish. Short, curly blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and pale, stubby legs marred at the knees with faded brown bruises from careless play. "Yuck! You have paint on the face again." She wrinkled her nose, oversized glasses sliding off of it. "Mamă is teaching me English again." "Oh is she now? And what have I taught you about stealing?" Lukas went down on one knee and gently ruffled her corn coloured hair, to which she responded by giggling and replacing the thin, circle glasses on the brunet's face. "You leave it on your desk so I take it. Mamă said 'finders winners, losers suckers.'" Lukas snorted at the comment, a chuckle escaping his lips as he stood back up, lifting her easily in his arms. "I don't think that's how it goes Annalisa."
"How what goes?"
A dainty, breathy voice came from above the staircase.
"Ursul meu mic, where have you been?"
She came down the steps, the heel of her boots clacking heavily against the wood, her long, copper skirt flowing behind her. She touched the side of his head, her pale knobby fingers sticky from tracing the ugly, clotted mess. "This is getting ridiculous," she raised a brow at him, continuing her motherly reproach. "You are too much, you know that? You and Gavi both." She shook her head and crossed her arms at him, before noticing the strangers he had brought in.
"Oh, who are your guests?" Pushing her braid behind her shoulder, the brunette moved closer to the other two, her forest green eyes roving questioningly over them. One was dressed formally; tall and firm in solid black. A guard, she supposed. And the other...
"She's..." Lukas hesitated, stumbling over his words, which she quickly caught on to, forming a conclusion on her own. "The reason why you couldn't sleep at night?" She smiled at the younger woman, taking her hand in hers. "Oh, Morcovi, how long has he been hiding you from me?"
"Oprește-te, Alina. Ma faci de rusine."
"You cannot keep secrets from me, Vasile." She walked over to him and pulled two ivory envelopes from her pocket. "Arata familiar?" Alina waited a moment, watching the angry, quiet indignation cross her nephew's features, before suddenly remembering her manners. She picked Annalisa up from Lukas and placed her on her feet.
"Lisa, why don't you show our guests around the place, yes? And to their rooms. I believe they will have to stay the night. Trebuie să vorbesc cu vărul tău. Be a good girl, alright?" "Da, mamă." Alina kissed her daughter's cheek, before turning her attention back to the redhead. "We will talk later, Morcovi," she promised with a smile.
--
"We never have any people stay for bedtime before. You must be really special!" Annalisa beamed at her two new playmates, grabbing them both from each hand. She led them above the staircase, through a somber hallway, littered with ornate paintings and yellowed photos of faded people and curious places from long ago. The lamplight flickered as they walked past, and from behind the velvet drapes the storm raged on. "This is the area for the working people," she announced, suddenly bouncing to a stop in front of the third door. It had a flat, circular marble affixed at the center, painted black, white, and blue, resembling an eye. "That is Marinela's room. She is a witch, but no one believes me." With a shrug, Annalisa walked on, leading them through another flight of stairs, and another grand foyer, this time bigger and loftier than the last.
"Mister, you can have that one," she pointed to a beige door on the left, while looking at the scary man beside her. "I like that room. It has a very big tub like an ocean." She grinned at him. "And carrot lady's room should be that one also." She pointed to a darker, polished door at the end of another open hallway. "That room has the best softest bed." Spinning on her heel, the blonde looked at the both of them with curious, wide eyes. "You can ask me anything, I know a lot about this house and everyone in it. As long as you promise to play with me after."
The last remark Lukas made her way in the car made Charlotte snort. "Ever the gentleman Birgham," she smirked. Those were the last words they exchanged as they made their way to his family's estate. Charlie was deep in thought, wondering, for the first time, what his house was like. This was about to be the first of probably many times in which she'll step foot at the Birgham estate. Would it be as constantly busy and bustling like their house, or was it a little more quiet? Would the people there stop in the hallways for some idle chitchat, or was everything kept strictly business? How did it look- did it have that somber yet strangely comfortable vibe Lukas had, feeling almost like something taken from another time, or was it modern and well-lit? Who and what were its heart?
The closer they got, the quieter and more nervous she became. Most of it was the uneasiness of walking into the unknown- but that wasn't all. This was a certain aspect one couldn't really separate from their line of work, and whenever she walked into a new place- which was fairly often- uncertainty was an inevitable part of it. But this time, the fluttering in her stomach was also accompanied by something else. A new kind of nervousness. Something she knew she felt at some point in the past, but she wasn't exactly sure when. Was is when he father first took her to throw knives? When she let him try her mother's empanadas she attempted recreating from an old recipe? The first operation she was ever given to lead and handle on her own? She wasn't sure.
The greeting they received at the gate, though never pleasant, wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Armed guards pointing a weapon at her, when she was out of their territory of course, was a regular occurrence, and just like always, the few words from her host were enough to lower it. The greeting they received once inside though, was a whole different story.
Barely did she had the time to register the house and its style- an almost perfect representation of Lukas, or maybe the other way around- when he was tackled by a young girl. Her sudden appearance made Charlotte's brows rise high on her forehead, only to ascend even higher at Lukas' treatment of her. It was kind, gentle, and clearly loving. For a moment, Charlie seriously considered the possibility this was his illegitimate child. She was so taken by surprise, she barely had time to register the fact Lukas was wearing glasses, and that for some reason the look was ridiculously endearing on him.
The appearance of the child's mother, although making her head spin even more, did help in one thing- it quickly debunked the whole illegitimate child theory. She was clearly the girl's mother, and the way she treated Lukas was just as motherly. Annalisa, she decided, was probably something along the lines of Lukas niece or cousin.
"Oh, who are your guests?"
Charlie's attention zeroed on the woman, blinking a few times at the question. She wasn't exactly sure how to answer it- it was obvious it was expected of her to introduce herself in relation to Lukas, but she couldn't figure out how to do it when she didn't know who this woman was and how she was related to him. However, it seemed Lukas beat her to the punch. Or, well, he tried.
She could feel her cheeks flush once again when the woman took her hands in hers. The reason Lukas couldn't sleep at night? She knew even if it was true, it was certainly not from the reason she so strongly insinuated to. Still, even the hinting to the idea Lukas was somehow having this or that kind of feelings for her made her feel... funny, somehow. That comment, however, did remind her of one of the promises she made to Lukas. The only people who were to know of the contract were himself and his father. And this woman was certainly not the Horseman.
"We will talk later, Morcovi."
Even though her curiosity about the produced envelopes and the reaction they invoked in Lukas, which she hadn't missed, was eating her, Charlie turned her gaze back to Alina, giving her a little nod and a smile. She was once again collected and in control of herself. With the thought of the promise she made to Lukas still in mind, she reached to gently cup his uninjured cheek.
"That's okay. Go take care of business, and this too," she motioned to his injury with her head. "We'll talk when you're done."
Led away by the babbling Annalisa, Charlie gave her a small smile in return before she exchanged a more serious glance with Jamal. Getting stuck in the heart of the Birgham House was not something she planned on- and although there shouldn't have been any impending danger due to the planned truce, she couldn't just shake off years of carefulness and apprehension. Jamal seemed to mirror her sentiments; while he didn't seem stressed, he was certainly alert, memorizing the route they were taking the same way she did- just in case.
Once they stopped in the grand foyer, Charlie's eyes immediately looked around, taking in its old, foreign style. She almost forgot about their companion, when her new nickname reached her ears. Turning around, her gaze moved from Annalisa to Jamal, who seemed particularly amused by it. The 'don't you dare' look she shot him only made his smile tighten a little more, as if he was trying to hold back laughter, before he knelt so that he was at eye-level with the young child. The kind smile he gave her and the gentleness in his eyes were the same ones he had when he looked at his own daughter. And although Mia's chocolate skin and tightly coiled black hair were as far as possible from that pale, flaxen-haired girl, Charlie couldn't help but make a side-by-side of them in her mind.
"Annalisa right?" He asked her in his deep, calm voice, receiving a nod in return. "My name is Jamal, and this is Charlotte. That earlier... that was your mother right?"
Another nod.
"And do you two live here? You seem to know the house really well." Jamal gave Annalisa an encouraging smile, the one that always worked on Mia. It seemed to be a success here too; besides a third nod, this time the child also gave a verbal response.
"Yes. Mama and me live here together with uncle Gavi and Vasi."
"And is your uncle here now?" Jamal gave a slight tilt of his head, turned nod in response to Annalisa's head shake.
"I wanted to have my lesson with him in his office but Mama said he went somewhere. Your questions are boring, it's my turn to ask." She continued without a missing a beat, making Jamal chuckle as he exchanged yet another glance with Charlie.
"Alright. Why don't you girls talk for a moment? I'll be right back." Rising to his feet, Charlie watched him reach for his phone and press it to his ear. She had no doubt he was calling home to update them- after all, he wasn't supposed to stay with her all day, so now someone else had to step in for him and accompany Joaquin in his business.
"Are you Vasi's friend?"
Charlotte turned her head to meet two large, curious blue eyes looking up at her. Her expression softening, she smiled at Annalisa, lowering herself to her height the same way Jamal did earlier.
"Something like that." She chuckled. "Does he have a lot of friends come over here?"
"Yes, but I don't like them. They're all boys and they never talk to me. They just make a lot of noise and a lot of mess and mama doesn't like them." Shocking, Charlie thought as she scuffed. Based on the little she saw from Lukas, and the not so little she heard of him, she wasn't surprised. "Besides, when Vasi's with them he won't play with me or read me books, and he always looks like this when he comes home after playing with them." Once again, a strange feeling was fluttering in Charlie's stomach, this time a little closer to her chest. She already witnessed the unmistakenly gentle way in which Lukas was treating Annalisa, but an image of him playing with her around the house or reading her a story while wearing those ridiculous glasses kept surfacing to her mind, flaming that strange feeling.
"Charlie."
Charlotte's eyes snapped up to look at Jamal. He was standing next to one of the windows, phone in hand, his stern gaze locked on her. Something was bothering him, something that made her stand up instantly and join him at once.
"What's going on?" She asked quietly, very much aware of the child that watched them with intense curiosity.
"I updated the guys at home. It should be fine, I made sure to talk to boss too, and he doesn't think there's anything to worry about. But," he continued in a hushed voice. "I'm not sure some of them wouldn't try coming here on their own. And with how their guards look like, if someone says the wrong thing..."
Charlie looked at his dark eyes, intently looking at her, awaiting instructions. She pushed the heavy curtain that hang over the window a little, looking out at the raging storm outside. Was it a bad omen? A sign of what could become of their deal, and both their houses, if something she couldn't control were to happen? She didn't want that- not for the House, not for herself, and, even though she was reluctant to admit it, not for Lukas. Taking in a small breath and letting it out, she turned back to face Jamal, letting the curtain fall back in place.
"The contract?" She reached out her hand, immediately receiving the item she asked for as well as a pen. Flipping the pages until she got to the last one, she quickly spotted the line at its bottom and signed her name. The words 'Charlotte Isabella Ayton' looked right back at her, sealing her fate. There was no turning back now.
Tearing the last page off the contract, she turned back to Annalisa, closing the distance to her and kneeling once again. "Can you do me a favor?" She asked with a smile. "I need you to give this to Luk... to Vasilo," she tested the strange name on her tongue, "and tell him if he wants the rest he needs to come here now. He'll know what to do. It's really important. Can you do that for me?"
The clear enthusiasm in Annalisa's nod made the smile on Charlotte's face grow a little wider. Clearly, she saw this as some sort of a game, one she was finally allowed to participate in. "Good. And after that I promise we can play whatever you want. I'll even make sure Vasilo plays too."
"Hide and seek!" She quickly exclaimed, clutching the contract in her small hands.
"You got it," Charlie laughed. "As soon as we're done with this, we're all yours." And with that, she watched the small feet pitter-patter away, standing up and waiting for, hopefully, Lukas' quick arrival.
The closer they got, the quieter and more nervous she became. Most of it was the uneasiness of walking into the unknown- but that wasn't all. This was a certain aspect one couldn't really separate from their line of work, and whenever she walked into a new place- which was fairly often- uncertainty was an inevitable part of it. But this time, the fluttering in her stomach was also accompanied by something else. A new kind of nervousness. Something she knew she felt at some point in the past, but she wasn't exactly sure when. Was is when he father first took her to throw knives? When she let him try her mother's empanadas she attempted recreating from an old recipe? The first operation she was ever given to lead and handle on her own? She wasn't sure.
The greeting they received at the gate, though never pleasant, wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Armed guards pointing a weapon at her, when she was out of their territory of course, was a regular occurrence, and just like always, the few words from her host were enough to lower it. The greeting they received once inside though, was a whole different story.
Barely did she had the time to register the house and its style- an almost perfect representation of Lukas, or maybe the other way around- when he was tackled by a young girl. Her sudden appearance made Charlotte's brows rise high on her forehead, only to ascend even higher at Lukas' treatment of her. It was kind, gentle, and clearly loving. For a moment, Charlie seriously considered the possibility this was his illegitimate child. She was so taken by surprise, she barely had time to register the fact Lukas was wearing glasses, and that for some reason the look was ridiculously endearing on him.
The appearance of the child's mother, although making her head spin even more, did help in one thing- it quickly debunked the whole illegitimate child theory. She was clearly the girl's mother, and the way she treated Lukas was just as motherly. Annalisa, she decided, was probably something along the lines of Lukas niece or cousin.
"Oh, who are your guests?"
Charlie's attention zeroed on the woman, blinking a few times at the question. She wasn't exactly sure how to answer it- it was obvious it was expected of her to introduce herself in relation to Lukas, but she couldn't figure out how to do it when she didn't know who this woman was and how she was related to him. However, it seemed Lukas beat her to the punch. Or, well, he tried.
She could feel her cheeks flush once again when the woman took her hands in hers. The reason Lukas couldn't sleep at night? She knew even if it was true, it was certainly not from the reason she so strongly insinuated to. Still, even the hinting to the idea Lukas was somehow having this or that kind of feelings for her made her feel... funny, somehow. That comment, however, did remind her of one of the promises she made to Lukas. The only people who were to know of the contract were himself and his father. And this woman was certainly not the Horseman.
"We will talk later, Morcovi."
Even though her curiosity about the produced envelopes and the reaction they invoked in Lukas, which she hadn't missed, was eating her, Charlie turned her gaze back to Alina, giving her a little nod and a smile. She was once again collected and in control of herself. With the thought of the promise she made to Lukas still in mind, she reached to gently cup his uninjured cheek.
"That's okay. Go take care of business, and this too," she motioned to his injury with her head. "We'll talk when you're done."
Led away by the babbling Annalisa, Charlie gave her a small smile in return before she exchanged a more serious glance with Jamal. Getting stuck in the heart of the Birgham House was not something she planned on- and although there shouldn't have been any impending danger due to the planned truce, she couldn't just shake off years of carefulness and apprehension. Jamal seemed to mirror her sentiments; while he didn't seem stressed, he was certainly alert, memorizing the route they were taking the same way she did- just in case.
Once they stopped in the grand foyer, Charlie's eyes immediately looked around, taking in its old, foreign style. She almost forgot about their companion, when her new nickname reached her ears. Turning around, her gaze moved from Annalisa to Jamal, who seemed particularly amused by it. The 'don't you dare' look she shot him only made his smile tighten a little more, as if he was trying to hold back laughter, before he knelt so that he was at eye-level with the young child. The kind smile he gave her and the gentleness in his eyes were the same ones he had when he looked at his own daughter. And although Mia's chocolate skin and tightly coiled black hair were as far as possible from that pale, flaxen-haired girl, Charlie couldn't help but make a side-by-side of them in her mind.
"Annalisa right?" He asked her in his deep, calm voice, receiving a nod in return. "My name is Jamal, and this is Charlotte. That earlier... that was your mother right?"
Another nod.
"And do you two live here? You seem to know the house really well." Jamal gave Annalisa an encouraging smile, the one that always worked on Mia. It seemed to be a success here too; besides a third nod, this time the child also gave a verbal response.
"Yes. Mama and me live here together with uncle Gavi and Vasi."
"And is your uncle here now?" Jamal gave a slight tilt of his head, turned nod in response to Annalisa's head shake.
"I wanted to have my lesson with him in his office but Mama said he went somewhere. Your questions are boring, it's my turn to ask." She continued without a missing a beat, making Jamal chuckle as he exchanged yet another glance with Charlie.
"Alright. Why don't you girls talk for a moment? I'll be right back." Rising to his feet, Charlie watched him reach for his phone and press it to his ear. She had no doubt he was calling home to update them- after all, he wasn't supposed to stay with her all day, so now someone else had to step in for him and accompany Joaquin in his business.
"Are you Vasi's friend?"
Charlotte turned her head to meet two large, curious blue eyes looking up at her. Her expression softening, she smiled at Annalisa, lowering herself to her height the same way Jamal did earlier.
"Something like that." She chuckled. "Does he have a lot of friends come over here?"
"Yes, but I don't like them. They're all boys and they never talk to me. They just make a lot of noise and a lot of mess and mama doesn't like them." Shocking, Charlie thought as she scuffed. Based on the little she saw from Lukas, and the not so little she heard of him, she wasn't surprised. "Besides, when Vasi's with them he won't play with me or read me books, and he always looks like this when he comes home after playing with them." Once again, a strange feeling was fluttering in Charlie's stomach, this time a little closer to her chest. She already witnessed the unmistakenly gentle way in which Lukas was treating Annalisa, but an image of him playing with her around the house or reading her a story while wearing those ridiculous glasses kept surfacing to her mind, flaming that strange feeling.
"Charlie."
Charlotte's eyes snapped up to look at Jamal. He was standing next to one of the windows, phone in hand, his stern gaze locked on her. Something was bothering him, something that made her stand up instantly and join him at once.
"What's going on?" She asked quietly, very much aware of the child that watched them with intense curiosity.
"I updated the guys at home. It should be fine, I made sure to talk to boss too, and he doesn't think there's anything to worry about. But," he continued in a hushed voice. "I'm not sure some of them wouldn't try coming here on their own. And with how their guards look like, if someone says the wrong thing..."
Charlie looked at his dark eyes, intently looking at her, awaiting instructions. She pushed the heavy curtain that hang over the window a little, looking out at the raging storm outside. Was it a bad omen? A sign of what could become of their deal, and both their houses, if something she couldn't control were to happen? She didn't want that- not for the House, not for herself, and, even though she was reluctant to admit it, not for Lukas. Taking in a small breath and letting it out, she turned back to face Jamal, letting the curtain fall back in place.
"The contract?" She reached out her hand, immediately receiving the item she asked for as well as a pen. Flipping the pages until she got to the last one, she quickly spotted the line at its bottom and signed her name. The words 'Charlotte Isabella Ayton' looked right back at her, sealing her fate. There was no turning back now.
Tearing the last page off the contract, she turned back to Annalisa, closing the distance to her and kneeling once again. "Can you do me a favor?" She asked with a smile. "I need you to give this to Luk... to Vasilo," she tested the strange name on her tongue, "and tell him if he wants the rest he needs to come here now. He'll know what to do. It's really important. Can you do that for me?"
The clear enthusiasm in Annalisa's nod made the smile on Charlotte's face grow a little wider. Clearly, she saw this as some sort of a game, one she was finally allowed to participate in. "Good. And after that I promise we can play whatever you want. I'll even make sure Vasilo plays too."
"Hide and seek!" She quickly exclaimed, clutching the contract in her small hands.
"You got it," Charlie laughed. "As soon as we're done with this, we're all yours." And with that, she watched the small feet pitter-patter away, standing up and waiting for, hopefully, Lukas' quick arrival.
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Svadilfari
The mediocre Gatsby
She looked him over; her troubled gaze tracing the dull blues, angry purples, and faded yellows that marred his skin like ink stains on paper. He hadn't changed one bit, she realized, as she wiped the blood off of his eyes; a deep ocean blue amid a sea of light brown freckles. Eyes that used to stare at her in the late nights under the smoke and the snow, a long time ago, all gentle and prodding and sad sometimes. And she can still see them now, even through the biting, bitter steel boring in them.
"I'm alright, Alina. You don't have t--"
She quickly pulled the needle upwards, a hand heavier than necessary, making him wince in sudden pain.
"Say that again ursul mic, and you'll be far from fine once I am done with you."
Ursul mic.
Little bear.
A nickname she had given him when he was a lot more honest and smaller. He came out on the empty streets that night and sat on the curb with her, wearing a ridiculous coat eight sizes too big; a small bear in a big ugly coat that didn't quite fit. She remembered thinking he looked so much like his mother that night; all somber-eyed with a heart breaker's smile. He told her it was his father's. She told him he'll trip in it. He promised her he wouldn't, and true to his word, he never did. Eighteen long years and Vasile grew up to be so much like his father that it broke her heart to see it.
"Really Alina, you shouldn't move your hand that much. I'll have Marius do it."
"The old fool's not here, remember? Gavi asked for him, and I assume," she pierced his skin again, one careful, crooked, silver stitch after another, "they would not be back so soon. Lisa keeps on asking for him. I told her he is away. She doesn't know what happened to him, and I'd prefer that you won't tell her about it."
"I won't."
"Good." She pulled the thread taut, and snipped it, her knobby hands back on her hips as she gestured to the envelopes glaring at the both of them from atop the table.
"I'm not doing this, Vasile. We're not doing this."
"Alina, it's better if--"
"I will not hear it! This... house is too big for just... you!" She shook her head in frustration, grimly remembering the little boy in his father's cursed coat. She would have burned the damn thing if she had the chance. Burn it all to ashes. "We are staying, okay?"
She stood up and held his face in her tired hands.
"I know you only want us to be safe, but... At least let us stay until Gavi can come back home again."
He looked up at her, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw a shift in him, the edge in his indigo gaze melting to a softer blue, giving her hope that she somehow managed to make him understand. But when he opened his mouth to reply, Lisa came bounding in, and somehow, the cheerful sight of her in the dreary old place made him change his mind.
"Vasi! Cărbune is looking for you!" Annalisa beamed a shade brighter than her golden curls, as he took her in his arms, "She says we can play a game together after you go see her."
"Char...coal? Oh," Lukas smiled and ruffled her hair. "Did she now?" Carefully setting her back down, he got up and walked out of the study with the blonde in tow.
"The flight is in two days, Alina. And the place is all yours." He hesitated at the doorstep, his back still towards her. "There are sunflowers in the garden. Just like you used to have. You'll..." he glanced at Annalisa, and patted her golden head, "...you'll both like it there. I swear it."
She had clearly lost the argument, and it settled achingly in her weary bones, cold as ice.
--
"Gutsy aren't you?" He walked languidly towards her, the torn page of the contract grasped between his fingers. "Ordering me around just because I'm yours now, Charlie?" A smug smile played on his lips as he stuffed the page in his coat pocket, clearly pleased to cross out two problems on his ever growing list of things that needed fixing. With the deal finally sealed in ink, the Horseman and the Blue Rose are now the two most powerful families in the state, and the pigs, the Falcons, and the rest of them will now be the least of their worries. "Oh, and before I forget." There was just one more thing needed to be done to declare their union, a thing that is designated to happen in a week and and a half more. He took a ring off of his little finger, gold and heavy with his initials against the Brigham Crest, etched in black obsidian. Then taking her hand in his, he slipped it on.
"Huh."
The ring somehow fit perfectly, as if it has always been made for its current wearer. His touch lingered for a moment then, as he began feeling sort of strange and funny. There was just something about the way her hand felt against him, and the way his family ring looked on a hand other than his.
He cleared his throat.
"A-anyways, this is yours now." He dropped her hand, and unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck, a scarlet flush threatening to bloom above his collar. "If I can't be with you around sometimes, this will let my people, and all the rest of them know that you're my..."
"Lover?" Annalisa's bubbly voice broke the quiet silence that hung heavy in the air, her eyes glinting wide and curious.
"Right... Wh-- no." Lukas looked incredulously at his younger cousin. "Where did you learn that word, Lisa?"
"You promised you will play hide and seek with me!" Lisa furrowed her brows and frowned, completely ignoring Lukas's question. "This is boring, I want to play!" She walked over to Charlotte and Jamal. "Miss Charcoal and Mister Jammy will come with me. We are hiding and Vasi will be the one to find us! But you have to hide somewhere very hidden because Vasi is very good at this game." With a conspiratorial wink that a child could muster, Annalisa pushed the two guests towards one of the dim hallways. "Go hide! Go hide! And Vasi will count to ten. No peeking!" She frowned at him and ran towards Charlotte, snatching the rest of the contract in her hands, before running away. She figured the boring papers can be an important prize to winning the game, and her guess proved to be not so wrong when she saw the exasperated expression cloud over Lukas's face. "You can have these back if you find everyone Vasi!" she yelled from across the foyer, "Charcoal, you can follow me! I know a good place to hide!" But Annalisa had forgotten how quickly she could run, and pretty soon, she disappeared into the maze of doors and darkness that littered the estate, leaving her new friend alone in a dark hallway with two similar doors, one bigger than the other. One of them has a plaque that read 'Dining Hall,' while the other remained unnamed, a marble that resembled an eye affixed at the center.
"Ten! I'm going to look for everyone now!" Lukas's tired voice carried faintly from one of the hallways, announcing the start of the game.
"I'm alright, Alina. You don't have t--"
She quickly pulled the needle upwards, a hand heavier than necessary, making him wince in sudden pain.
"Say that again ursul mic, and you'll be far from fine once I am done with you."
Ursul mic.
Little bear.
A nickname she had given him when he was a lot more honest and smaller. He came out on the empty streets that night and sat on the curb with her, wearing a ridiculous coat eight sizes too big; a small bear in a big ugly coat that didn't quite fit. She remembered thinking he looked so much like his mother that night; all somber-eyed with a heart breaker's smile. He told her it was his father's. She told him he'll trip in it. He promised her he wouldn't, and true to his word, he never did. Eighteen long years and Vasile grew up to be so much like his father that it broke her heart to see it.
"Really Alina, you shouldn't move your hand that much. I'll have Marius do it."
"The old fool's not here, remember? Gavi asked for him, and I assume," she pierced his skin again, one careful, crooked, silver stitch after another, "they would not be back so soon. Lisa keeps on asking for him. I told her he is away. She doesn't know what happened to him, and I'd prefer that you won't tell her about it."
"I won't."
"Good." She pulled the thread taut, and snipped it, her knobby hands back on her hips as she gestured to the envelopes glaring at the both of them from atop the table.
"I'm not doing this, Vasile. We're not doing this."
"Alina, it's better if--"
"I will not hear it! This... house is too big for just... you!" She shook her head in frustration, grimly remembering the little boy in his father's cursed coat. She would have burned the damn thing if she had the chance. Burn it all to ashes. "We are staying, okay?"
She stood up and held his face in her tired hands.
"I know you only want us to be safe, but... At least let us stay until Gavi can come back home again."
He looked up at her, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw a shift in him, the edge in his indigo gaze melting to a softer blue, giving her hope that she somehow managed to make him understand. But when he opened his mouth to reply, Lisa came bounding in, and somehow, the cheerful sight of her in the dreary old place made him change his mind.
"Vasi! Cărbune is looking for you!" Annalisa beamed a shade brighter than her golden curls, as he took her in his arms, "She says we can play a game together after you go see her."
"Char...coal? Oh," Lukas smiled and ruffled her hair. "Did she now?" Carefully setting her back down, he got up and walked out of the study with the blonde in tow.
"The flight is in two days, Alina. And the place is all yours." He hesitated at the doorstep, his back still towards her. "There are sunflowers in the garden. Just like you used to have. You'll..." he glanced at Annalisa, and patted her golden head, "...you'll both like it there. I swear it."
She had clearly lost the argument, and it settled achingly in her weary bones, cold as ice.
--
"Gutsy aren't you?" He walked languidly towards her, the torn page of the contract grasped between his fingers. "Ordering me around just because I'm yours now, Charlie?" A smug smile played on his lips as he stuffed the page in his coat pocket, clearly pleased to cross out two problems on his ever growing list of things that needed fixing. With the deal finally sealed in ink, the Horseman and the Blue Rose are now the two most powerful families in the state, and the pigs, the Falcons, and the rest of them will now be the least of their worries. "Oh, and before I forget." There was just one more thing needed to be done to declare their union, a thing that is designated to happen in a week and and a half more. He took a ring off of his little finger, gold and heavy with his initials against the Brigham Crest, etched in black obsidian. Then taking her hand in his, he slipped it on.
"Huh."
The ring somehow fit perfectly, as if it has always been made for its current wearer. His touch lingered for a moment then, as he began feeling sort of strange and funny. There was just something about the way her hand felt against him, and the way his family ring looked on a hand other than his.
He cleared his throat.
"A-anyways, this is yours now." He dropped her hand, and unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck, a scarlet flush threatening to bloom above his collar. "If I can't be with you around sometimes, this will let my people, and all the rest of them know that you're my..."
"Lover?" Annalisa's bubbly voice broke the quiet silence that hung heavy in the air, her eyes glinting wide and curious.
"Right... Wh-- no." Lukas looked incredulously at his younger cousin. "Where did you learn that word, Lisa?"
"You promised you will play hide and seek with me!" Lisa furrowed her brows and frowned, completely ignoring Lukas's question. "This is boring, I want to play!" She walked over to Charlotte and Jamal. "Miss Charcoal and Mister Jammy will come with me. We are hiding and Vasi will be the one to find us! But you have to hide somewhere very hidden because Vasi is very good at this game." With a conspiratorial wink that a child could muster, Annalisa pushed the two guests towards one of the dim hallways. "Go hide! Go hide! And Vasi will count to ten. No peeking!" She frowned at him and ran towards Charlotte, snatching the rest of the contract in her hands, before running away. She figured the boring papers can be an important prize to winning the game, and her guess proved to be not so wrong when she saw the exasperated expression cloud over Lukas's face. "You can have these back if you find everyone Vasi!" she yelled from across the foyer, "Charcoal, you can follow me! I know a good place to hide!" But Annalisa had forgotten how quickly she could run, and pretty soon, she disappeared into the maze of doors and darkness that littered the estate, leaving her new friend alone in a dark hallway with two similar doors, one bigger than the other. One of them has a plaque that read 'Dining Hall,' while the other remained unnamed, a marble that resembled an eye affixed at the center.
"Ten! I'm going to look for everyone now!" Lukas's tired voice carried faintly from one of the hallways, announcing the start of the game.
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Charlie's nervous pacing didn't last for long, as shortly after she sent Annalisa she came back with what she asked her to fetch- and he seemed in a pretty good mood too.
"I don't know if you're in a position to say anything after more or less kidnapping me and disrupting my plans for the rest of the day," she arched a brow at him. She very purposefully chose to ignore the fact he had just referred to himself as hers. Sure, there were more than a few men who embraced the same title in relation to her, but none quite in the way and meaning Lukas just did. At least he didn’t say she was his, a saying that would have finally earned him that matching black eye, although now that the thought crossed her mind, it seemed it was there to stay, making her feel like she needed to sit down.
"Oh, and before I forget."
Charlie’s left brow rose questioningly, her right one following shortly after when Lukas reached for her hand. The amount of people who so easily touched her without being seriously concerned for their physical well-being was near nonexistent. It wasn’t that she earned a reputation that would justify such a thought- it was just that the energy she usually gave off made people keep their distance. With Lukas however, and not for the first time, it seemed to have no hold whatsoever.
The ring slipped onto her finger made Charlotte’s left hand feel suddenly heavy. She expected it to be cold, but the gold was surprisingly warm against her skin, as were Lukas’ hands. It felt as if her eyes were magnetized to the ring, the foreign object on her hand standing in harsh contrast against her pale skin, while also, somehow, fitting right in.
The spell she felt was put on her, making the world around her turn into a blur, only broke when she was spoken to directly. Blinking, she turned her gaze to look at Annalisa, remembering there were other people in the room as well. Unfortunately, by the time she remembered why she called them there so urgently, things were already put into motion. The contract was snatched away from her hands, carried away by an energetic child that pulled her after her with just as much enthusiasm. Her eyes darted between Annalisa and Lukas and Jamal, unsure what she should take care of first. It was a good thing her distress was immediately recognized.
"Go," Jamal motioned with his head to the direction in which the golden head disappeared. "I'll take care of this."
After a moment of hesitation, Charlie nodded briefly, before turning around and heading after Annalisa. She knew Jamal would update Lukas about their people, and this was just a precaution. He told them everything was fine. They were told not to try anything reckless. She had to know where she could let go, where things would be fine even without her. She hoped if she'd tell it to herself enough times, she'll believe it too.
As it turned out, the contract might have ended up being the more urgent of her problems. Never in her life had Charlie been outrun by a child, but she guessed there was a first time for everything. Standing in the dark hallway, in the middle of the unfamiliar house, Charlotte found herself looking between two doors. One was pretty much as straight forward as it could be- a dining hall. Not somewhere Charlie wanted to walk into when she didn't know who was on the other side and she still felt like she was trespassing. The other was the room where Annalisa claimed a witch lived- something that must have been some kind of figment of her imagination, and maybe a source of fascination for the young girl.
The thing that pushed her to make a decision was Lukas' voice coming from somewhere behind her. Instinctively, she reached for the marble adorned door, sliding into the room and shutting it behind her.
It was only when she was inside, leaning against the dark door that she realized she might have done something incredibly idiotic. In the heat of the moment, all she could think about was not letting Lukas win- she could have just as easily stayed outside and looked for the missing contract together with him. But something about giving in just like so, giving him the gloating rights so early on... there was no way her pride could take it.
Now that she was looking at it, the room itself seemed to continue the same motif of the Brigham estate- dark, old and big. She could certainly understand why Annalisa thought this was the lair of a witch- the dimly lit room seemed to shift with every step she took further into it, the shadows the candles cast over it constantly changing and the smell of herbs getting stronger. A large book placed on a dresser pulled her attention and she reached her hand to glide it over its leather bound cover before opening it and turning a few of its pages. Brews, concussions, potions, prayers- all things she could see one of her Tia's mixing together and giving her to cure one thing or the other. Certainly nothing that made her suspect anything mystic might have been happening between those four walls.
Leaving the book, Charlie's hand traveled down, stopping randomly on one of the dresser's drawers. This little game Annalisa devised, she figured, might be a good opportunity to snoop around a little. There was no harm in collecting some information about the family she was about to bound her fate to in a time shorter she was comfortable with.
The drawer easily slid open, the wood barely making a sound as it revealed its contents to Charlie. Pictures, it seemed to be, although she couldn't see of what in the dim candle light. With growing curiosity, Charlie, reached for the photos, taking them out so she could better examine them. The first was of a girl- dark hair, dark eyes, not a face she had seen before nor one who made her feel any type of way.
The bruja? She wondered, flipping to the next photo only to be met with a pair of blue eyes that were all too familiar after the morning she had. Another look inside the drawer verified there were no other pictures there, and a few glances at the others revealed nothing but small fabric pouches and dust. Why were those two photos the only one there? Who was the girl? And what was she to Lukas- or what was he to her?
"Who are you?"
Charlotte slammed the drawer closed and whirled around. Behind her a door she didn't notice before now stood open, the light streaming from the room behind it illuminating a single figure. She couldn't make out specific details, but from what she could see it was a girl, roughly her age and about half a head shorter. While she couldn't make out her expression, there was no doubt about it- the woman was mad.
"Who are you?" She asked again, taking a threatening step towards Charlie.
"Look, my name is Charlotte and I'm here on business," she answered calmly. "I'm not looking for any trouble and I'm not trying to do anything funny. I just-"
"How did you get in here? What do you want?"
"Like I said," she answered carefully, raising her hands in a peaceful gesture. "It's a long story. If you'll let me explain-"
"Where did you get this?"
Even without seeing her face, Charlie immediately knew something went wrong. Her instincts kicked in, screaming at her to run. She fought them, knowing it would only make things worse, but she also knew the situation, for whatever reason, just turned very explosive.
"Where did you get that?!" The girl was now raising her voice, taking one step after the other closer to Charlie. It was then when she realized the stranger was intently looking at her left ring finger. "You thief!
"What? No! I didn't steal anything! Look, if you would just wait a second and-"
"Give it back. Now!"
Something about the way the small stranger growled at her made Charlotte stop in her tracks. Her eyes focused on her, the icy blue in them almost scorching all of a sudden, flames fanned by the one word that rang loudly in her head.
"No."
From amidst the mess of flight-or-fight reflexes that kicked in her body, the one thing Charlie knew she had to do was protect the ring. It was hers to keep.
"What the-? I wasn't asking. Give it back! It's not yours!"
"No, it's not yours."
For a moment, the woman froze in place. The unshakable authority in Charlie's voice seemed to have stunned her. Then, with a loud furious yell, she moved again, lunging directly at Charlie. All she could do was curl her left hand and raise the right one to protect her face before the stranger crushed into her, sending her flying backwards into the dresser. The force of the impact felt as if it knocked the air out of her, the hit to the back of her head and shoulders making a grunt escape through her gritted teeth.
Years of training and well honed instincts kicked right into action, and Charlie knew what she had to do. Knees folded to protect her core, head bent to protect her face, and her hands tightly curled under the both of them to protect the ring, all she could do was wait for an opening that would allow her to escape.
"I don't know if you're in a position to say anything after more or less kidnapping me and disrupting my plans for the rest of the day," she arched a brow at him. She very purposefully chose to ignore the fact he had just referred to himself as hers. Sure, there were more than a few men who embraced the same title in relation to her, but none quite in the way and meaning Lukas just did. At least he didn’t say she was his, a saying that would have finally earned him that matching black eye, although now that the thought crossed her mind, it seemed it was there to stay, making her feel like she needed to sit down.
"Oh, and before I forget."
Charlie’s left brow rose questioningly, her right one following shortly after when Lukas reached for her hand. The amount of people who so easily touched her without being seriously concerned for their physical well-being was near nonexistent. It wasn’t that she earned a reputation that would justify such a thought- it was just that the energy she usually gave off made people keep their distance. With Lukas however, and not for the first time, it seemed to have no hold whatsoever.
The ring slipped onto her finger made Charlotte’s left hand feel suddenly heavy. She expected it to be cold, but the gold was surprisingly warm against her skin, as were Lukas’ hands. It felt as if her eyes were magnetized to the ring, the foreign object on her hand standing in harsh contrast against her pale skin, while also, somehow, fitting right in.
The spell she felt was put on her, making the world around her turn into a blur, only broke when she was spoken to directly. Blinking, she turned her gaze to look at Annalisa, remembering there were other people in the room as well. Unfortunately, by the time she remembered why she called them there so urgently, things were already put into motion. The contract was snatched away from her hands, carried away by an energetic child that pulled her after her with just as much enthusiasm. Her eyes darted between Annalisa and Lukas and Jamal, unsure what she should take care of first. It was a good thing her distress was immediately recognized.
"Go," Jamal motioned with his head to the direction in which the golden head disappeared. "I'll take care of this."
After a moment of hesitation, Charlie nodded briefly, before turning around and heading after Annalisa. She knew Jamal would update Lukas about their people, and this was just a precaution. He told them everything was fine. They were told not to try anything reckless. She had to know where she could let go, where things would be fine even without her. She hoped if she'd tell it to herself enough times, she'll believe it too.
As it turned out, the contract might have ended up being the more urgent of her problems. Never in her life had Charlie been outrun by a child, but she guessed there was a first time for everything. Standing in the dark hallway, in the middle of the unfamiliar house, Charlotte found herself looking between two doors. One was pretty much as straight forward as it could be- a dining hall. Not somewhere Charlie wanted to walk into when she didn't know who was on the other side and she still felt like she was trespassing. The other was the room where Annalisa claimed a witch lived- something that must have been some kind of figment of her imagination, and maybe a source of fascination for the young girl.
The thing that pushed her to make a decision was Lukas' voice coming from somewhere behind her. Instinctively, she reached for the marble adorned door, sliding into the room and shutting it behind her.
It was only when she was inside, leaning against the dark door that she realized she might have done something incredibly idiotic. In the heat of the moment, all she could think about was not letting Lukas win- she could have just as easily stayed outside and looked for the missing contract together with him. But something about giving in just like so, giving him the gloating rights so early on... there was no way her pride could take it.
Now that she was looking at it, the room itself seemed to continue the same motif of the Brigham estate- dark, old and big. She could certainly understand why Annalisa thought this was the lair of a witch- the dimly lit room seemed to shift with every step she took further into it, the shadows the candles cast over it constantly changing and the smell of herbs getting stronger. A large book placed on a dresser pulled her attention and she reached her hand to glide it over its leather bound cover before opening it and turning a few of its pages. Brews, concussions, potions, prayers- all things she could see one of her Tia's mixing together and giving her to cure one thing or the other. Certainly nothing that made her suspect anything mystic might have been happening between those four walls.
Leaving the book, Charlie's hand traveled down, stopping randomly on one of the dresser's drawers. This little game Annalisa devised, she figured, might be a good opportunity to snoop around a little. There was no harm in collecting some information about the family she was about to bound her fate to in a time shorter she was comfortable with.
The drawer easily slid open, the wood barely making a sound as it revealed its contents to Charlie. Pictures, it seemed to be, although she couldn't see of what in the dim candle light. With growing curiosity, Charlie, reached for the photos, taking them out so she could better examine them. The first was of a girl- dark hair, dark eyes, not a face she had seen before nor one who made her feel any type of way.
The bruja? She wondered, flipping to the next photo only to be met with a pair of blue eyes that were all too familiar after the morning she had. Another look inside the drawer verified there were no other pictures there, and a few glances at the others revealed nothing but small fabric pouches and dust. Why were those two photos the only one there? Who was the girl? And what was she to Lukas- or what was he to her?
"Who are you?"
Charlotte slammed the drawer closed and whirled around. Behind her a door she didn't notice before now stood open, the light streaming from the room behind it illuminating a single figure. She couldn't make out specific details, but from what she could see it was a girl, roughly her age and about half a head shorter. While she couldn't make out her expression, there was no doubt about it- the woman was mad.
"Who are you?" She asked again, taking a threatening step towards Charlie.
"Look, my name is Charlotte and I'm here on business," she answered calmly. "I'm not looking for any trouble and I'm not trying to do anything funny. I just-"
"How did you get in here? What do you want?"
"Like I said," she answered carefully, raising her hands in a peaceful gesture. "It's a long story. If you'll let me explain-"
"Where did you get this?"
Even without seeing her face, Charlie immediately knew something went wrong. Her instincts kicked in, screaming at her to run. She fought them, knowing it would only make things worse, but she also knew the situation, for whatever reason, just turned very explosive.
"Where did you get that?!" The girl was now raising her voice, taking one step after the other closer to Charlie. It was then when she realized the stranger was intently looking at her left ring finger. "You thief!
"What? No! I didn't steal anything! Look, if you would just wait a second and-"
"Give it back. Now!"
Something about the way the small stranger growled at her made Charlotte stop in her tracks. Her eyes focused on her, the icy blue in them almost scorching all of a sudden, flames fanned by the one word that rang loudly in her head.
"No."
From amidst the mess of flight-or-fight reflexes that kicked in her body, the one thing Charlie knew she had to do was protect the ring. It was hers to keep.
"What the-? I wasn't asking. Give it back! It's not yours!"
"No, it's not yours."
For a moment, the woman froze in place. The unshakable authority in Charlie's voice seemed to have stunned her. Then, with a loud furious yell, she moved again, lunging directly at Charlie. All she could do was curl her left hand and raise the right one to protect her face before the stranger crushed into her, sending her flying backwards into the dresser. The force of the impact felt as if it knocked the air out of her, the hit to the back of her head and shoulders making a grunt escape through her gritted teeth.
Years of training and well honed instincts kicked right into action, and Charlie knew what she had to do. Knees folded to protect her core, head bent to protect her face, and her hands tightly curled under the both of them to protect the ring, all she could do was wait for an opening that would allow her to escape.
Svadilfari
The mediocre Gatsby
They crowded around her, a pair of brown eyes and black ones, watching curiously, drawn to the sound of her body hitting the old, polished cherry wood. They came from the Dining Hall, just a door a breadth away from the commotion, leaving the half finished platters of luncheon uncovered, and the teapot left whistling loudly in their alarmed haste. "Marinela, what is going on here?!" The older male with the salt-grey hair moved to stand between the two of them, a frown deepening the already tired lines of his weathered face. The other moved to Charlotte, placing a flour-covered hand on her arm, her eyes apologetic and her smile kind. "Are you alright, my dear?" she asked gingerly, her gaze darting from the stranger to the armoire that she solidly collided to, her brows now furrowing in a silent worry. "That căţea took something that isn't hers, Manuel!" Leonora closed her dark eyes and shook her head in disapproval. "Please Ella, stop cursing at our guest." "Guest?!" Marinela spat out the word incredulously, and placed her hands on her hips, tilting her chin to gesture at the golden ring on the stranger's finger. "She is a thief! Why else would she have Vasile's ring? I even asked her to return it, but she just wouldn't." "There must be a good reason why she has it," Manuel offered, trying to pacify the situation, "And if there is, you know you will answer for this. You should learn to think befo--"
"What the hell is this?"
Manuel lowered his gaze to the floor and stepped aside. Marinela can only watch in quiet disbelief as Lukas knelt to help the stranger up, the ire in her turning into an ugly spite as he annoyingly held the căţea's face in his hands, asking her if she was alright, and if she was hurt, his eyes all over her, checking for injuries.
"I'm sorry," Lukas murmured into Charlotte's ear, unconsciously taking her protectively in his arms, before kissing the top of her head.
It couldn't possibly be true. She recognizes this sort of honest affection from him all too well. It only happened twice before. Once with her, when they were children, when she rode too fast on her bicycle, her bony limbs crashing to the muddy pavement. And once with Ava, a long time ago, before she left him and his questions unanswered, hanging heavily in the cold Autumn air.
"What happened here?" Lukas growled, his face still buried in Charlotte's hair. "W-we found her on the floor. With... Marinela accusing her," the older woman added hesitantly, now mirroring her husband's movements and settling her gaze to the soles of her shoes.
It couldn't possibly be true. If he had been seeing someone, she should have known. She is his best friend after all. He should have told her. But he didn't. He hadn't. For whatever reason, he had kept all this a secret from her. And even so, this should not be happening. She made sure to add that damn philter to his tea every morning. She double checked that everything was the right amount and--
"Ella, are you going to explain?" His voice was slow and deep; he is angry with her, she can tell. He is looking at her now, and she met his gaze, his blue eyes biting cold. "I..." But she knows him. He wouldn't let it go, unless she apologizes. He will be upset with her for couple of days or so, but it wouldn't last. Not with her. Never with her. Then she can gradually make it right again. She'll only have that other woman to deal with. And deal with her, she will.
"I'm sorry... I thought she stole your ring, I- I wasn't thinking... And I'm sorry I--"
"Don't do that again."
With his arm still around her shoulder, he led Charlotte out into the hallway without another word.
---
From across the corridor, Jamal appeared, striding purposefully towards them.
"It is done," he announced, with a reassured nod.
Lukas recalled their conversation earlier, about the call Jamal made to the Aytons, regarding the possibility of an inconvenience lest any of their people don't act accordingly to their orders. He then asked him for a favor, to let the Horseman guards know how best to handle their people if a situation does happen. Jamal complied, mostly for his boss's peace of mind.
"I have briefed them on what to do if something arises."
"Thank you."
A lamplight flickered as Jamal nodded, before raising a brow in question at Charlotte. Lukas unknowingly still has his arm around her, too preoccupied with massaging his temple as he tried to fight the urge to light a smoke in the hallway. Before he could focus his attention back to the present however, the power suddenly ran out, bathing them in pitch black darkness.
"What the hell is this?"
Manuel lowered his gaze to the floor and stepped aside. Marinela can only watch in quiet disbelief as Lukas knelt to help the stranger up, the ire in her turning into an ugly spite as he annoyingly held the căţea's face in his hands, asking her if she was alright, and if she was hurt, his eyes all over her, checking for injuries.
"I'm sorry," Lukas murmured into Charlotte's ear, unconsciously taking her protectively in his arms, before kissing the top of her head.
It couldn't possibly be true. She recognizes this sort of honest affection from him all too well. It only happened twice before. Once with her, when they were children, when she rode too fast on her bicycle, her bony limbs crashing to the muddy pavement. And once with Ava, a long time ago, before she left him and his questions unanswered, hanging heavily in the cold Autumn air.
"What happened here?" Lukas growled, his face still buried in Charlotte's hair. "W-we found her on the floor. With... Marinela accusing her," the older woman added hesitantly, now mirroring her husband's movements and settling her gaze to the soles of her shoes.
It couldn't possibly be true. If he had been seeing someone, she should have known. She is his best friend after all. He should have told her. But he didn't. He hadn't. For whatever reason, he had kept all this a secret from her. And even so, this should not be happening. She made sure to add that damn philter to his tea every morning. She double checked that everything was the right amount and--
"Ella, are you going to explain?" His voice was slow and deep; he is angry with her, she can tell. He is looking at her now, and she met his gaze, his blue eyes biting cold. "I..." But she knows him. He wouldn't let it go, unless she apologizes. He will be upset with her for couple of days or so, but it wouldn't last. Not with her. Never with her. Then she can gradually make it right again. She'll only have that other woman to deal with. And deal with her, she will.
"I'm sorry... I thought she stole your ring, I- I wasn't thinking... And I'm sorry I--"
"Don't do that again."
With his arm still around her shoulder, he led Charlotte out into the hallway without another word.
---
From across the corridor, Jamal appeared, striding purposefully towards them.
"It is done," he announced, with a reassured nod.
Lukas recalled their conversation earlier, about the call Jamal made to the Aytons, regarding the possibility of an inconvenience lest any of their people don't act accordingly to their orders. He then asked him for a favor, to let the Horseman guards know how best to handle their people if a situation does happen. Jamal complied, mostly for his boss's peace of mind.
"I have briefed them on what to do if something arises."
"Thank you."
A lamplight flickered as Jamal nodded, before raising a brow in question at Charlotte. Lukas unknowingly still has his arm around her, too preoccupied with massaging his temple as he tried to fight the urge to light a smoke in the hallway. Before he could focus his attention back to the present however, the power suddenly ran out, bathing them in pitch black darkness.
If there was one thing Charlie learnt about the Brigham House from the short time she spent there, was that things happened in it at an alarmingly rapid pace- and she was having a hard time keeping up.
The two strangers who burst into the room, alarmed undoubtedly by the commotion, didn’t seem hostile like the girl- confused, maybe a little afraid. Her eyes moved between them and the girl, trying to decipher the dynamics between them as to not make things worse by saying or doing the wrong thing, when their audience grew by one member.
“What? I’m fine,” Charlie dismissively shook her head. By the way it felt, Marinela couldn’t have inflicted on her more than a few scratches and perhaps a bruise or two on her back from the initial impact.
She was much more alarmed by Lukas’ reaction to the whole thing. There it was again- that strange tenderness that made her want to curl up against his chest and push him away all at the same time. She knew this was nothing but a pretense- he told her so himself, that his people were ought to believe their relationship was a real one. She knew it, and it only made her all the more angry at the part of herself that wanted to believe it was real.
“Really Lukas,” she repeated quietly when he apologized, words meant for his ears only. “She hits like a girl.”
Even if he was trying to give a convincing performance, there was no need to go this far. The poor staff, at least that’s what she assumed they were, didn’t deserve the wrath that was unleashed upon them. They were just trying to help.
“It was just a misunderstanding.” She placed a hand that was both calming and restraining on Lukas’ chest. “There’s no harm done.” As she spoke, her eyes moved from trying to search for his, to giving a reassuring look to his victims. Well, to two of them. When her eyes landed on Marinela they hardened, and her voice chilled a few degrees. She wasn’t a big enough person to immediately forget someone who blamed and then attacked her for no reason. Forgive maybe, but not forget.
Even as they left the room, a part of her mind still lingered behind. Whatever just happened there, whoever that girl just was, she had no doubt she would hear from her again. And while she was prepared for a lot of things when she walked into that house, this wasn't exactly one of them. They probably needed to sit down and talk. It appeared that simply signing the contract and reaching an agreement wouldn't do- there were things she needed to know about him, and there were probably ones he needed to know about her.
A nod of approval sent in Jamal's direction as he updated them signaled she was starting to go back to normal. In a moment or two she also won't be able to ignore Lukas' arm around her anymore, and without a way to rationalize it, shake it off. She would have done it the moment Jamal raised that eyebrow at her, if it wasn't for the flickering light that caught her attention. For a moment she stared at it, hypnotized by the shaky warm glow. And then, it was pitch black.
"What the-? Oh great" she groaned. As if not enough things went completely awry that day. Now they had to deal with a blackout too? First that early morning meeting that ended with her fiance getting himself into a fistfight, then getting dragged to the Brigham estate, getting quarantined in it due to some gardener who couldn't do his job in time and identify a hazard (she wasn't all that sure their current problem wasn't to blame on the same cause), and then the contract disappearing...
"Shit!" She turned to Lukas, his arms all of a sudden extremely helpful as it was the only way for her to know where he stood. "Annalisa. What if she's still hiding and it got dark all of a sudden? We need to find her, she must be freaking out." The guilt was gnawing at Charlie. She was the one who lost her in the first place, and now she was somewhere alone in the big mansion with the light completely out...
"Let's split," Jamal's deep voice came from somewhere to her left, calm and collected. "I'm pretty sure I can think of a few popular hiding spots. I always win when we play at home." Even though she couldn't see, Charlotte knew he was smiling. "We'll find her in no time." A moment passed before she answered him.
"Okay. Keep me posted." The only thing that followed was the sound of footsteps, slowly disappearing further into the dark, and then silence.
"Where should we start?" Even though she knew it would be more cost-effective time-wise to split, after what just happened, Charlotte didn't trust herself enough to wander the house alone. "And how do we even know where we're going when we start?"
The two strangers who burst into the room, alarmed undoubtedly by the commotion, didn’t seem hostile like the girl- confused, maybe a little afraid. Her eyes moved between them and the girl, trying to decipher the dynamics between them as to not make things worse by saying or doing the wrong thing, when their audience grew by one member.
“What? I’m fine,” Charlie dismissively shook her head. By the way it felt, Marinela couldn’t have inflicted on her more than a few scratches and perhaps a bruise or two on her back from the initial impact.
She was much more alarmed by Lukas’ reaction to the whole thing. There it was again- that strange tenderness that made her want to curl up against his chest and push him away all at the same time. She knew this was nothing but a pretense- he told her so himself, that his people were ought to believe their relationship was a real one. She knew it, and it only made her all the more angry at the part of herself that wanted to believe it was real.
“Really Lukas,” she repeated quietly when he apologized, words meant for his ears only. “She hits like a girl.”
Even if he was trying to give a convincing performance, there was no need to go this far. The poor staff, at least that’s what she assumed they were, didn’t deserve the wrath that was unleashed upon them. They were just trying to help.
“It was just a misunderstanding.” She placed a hand that was both calming and restraining on Lukas’ chest. “There’s no harm done.” As she spoke, her eyes moved from trying to search for his, to giving a reassuring look to his victims. Well, to two of them. When her eyes landed on Marinela they hardened, and her voice chilled a few degrees. She wasn’t a big enough person to immediately forget someone who blamed and then attacked her for no reason. Forgive maybe, but not forget.
Even as they left the room, a part of her mind still lingered behind. Whatever just happened there, whoever that girl just was, she had no doubt she would hear from her again. And while she was prepared for a lot of things when she walked into that house, this wasn't exactly one of them. They probably needed to sit down and talk. It appeared that simply signing the contract and reaching an agreement wouldn't do- there were things she needed to know about him, and there were probably ones he needed to know about her.
A nod of approval sent in Jamal's direction as he updated them signaled she was starting to go back to normal. In a moment or two she also won't be able to ignore Lukas' arm around her anymore, and without a way to rationalize it, shake it off. She would have done it the moment Jamal raised that eyebrow at her, if it wasn't for the flickering light that caught her attention. For a moment she stared at it, hypnotized by the shaky warm glow. And then, it was pitch black.
"What the-? Oh great" she groaned. As if not enough things went completely awry that day. Now they had to deal with a blackout too? First that early morning meeting that ended with her fiance getting himself into a fistfight, then getting dragged to the Brigham estate, getting quarantined in it due to some gardener who couldn't do his job in time and identify a hazard (she wasn't all that sure their current problem wasn't to blame on the same cause), and then the contract disappearing...
"Shit!" She turned to Lukas, his arms all of a sudden extremely helpful as it was the only way for her to know where he stood. "Annalisa. What if she's still hiding and it got dark all of a sudden? We need to find her, she must be freaking out." The guilt was gnawing at Charlie. She was the one who lost her in the first place, and now she was somewhere alone in the big mansion with the light completely out...
"Let's split," Jamal's deep voice came from somewhere to her left, calm and collected. "I'm pretty sure I can think of a few popular hiding spots. I always win when we play at home." Even though she couldn't see, Charlotte knew he was smiling. "We'll find her in no time." A moment passed before she answered him.
"Okay. Keep me posted." The only thing that followed was the sound of footsteps, slowly disappearing further into the dark, and then silence.
"Where should we start?" Even though she knew it would be more cost-effective time-wise to split, after what just happened, Charlotte didn't trust herself enough to wander the house alone. "And how do we even know where we're going when we start?"
Svadilfari
The mediocre Gatsby
Thump
Annalisa's name was the first and last thing that crossed his mind as soon as the darkness began. Even through the swathing gloom he was certain that he wouldn't have any trouble finding his way; knowing every winding hallway, dusty corner, and airy room of the damned estate.
Thump
And though he knew what steps to take with an easy familiarity of his childhood home, the uncertainty of where his tireless cousin could have hidden posed a sudden problem. A problem that he certainly did not want to tackle blindly in the dark. Dropping his hand from her shoulder, with the earlier events already forgotten, Lukas flicked on his lighter.
The ball of yellow-orange flame lit up a tiny glow through the dim, casting angry shadows that creeped along the corridor.
Thump
"Lisa could be anywhere," he admitted as he gestured for her to follow, the sound of his steps drowned out by the growing gale, "so we start everywhere." Stopping by the Foyer, he drew back the heavy curtain to an empty window sill.
Thump
"Lisa, if you can hear me, please come out. The generator is down and we can't play this game anymore." He shouted through the silence, trying to ignore the thrumming in his head, growing heavier by the minute. Last night and the argument at the Cafe was starting to catch up to him, hacking into the corners of his mind, like a dull knife sawing back and forth relentlessly. As the seconds ticked by, he found that he couldn't think straight.
Thump
"Lisa?"
The Library was empty.
Thump
So was the Conservatory.
Thump
The Smoke Room.
Thump
And the Pool Room.
Thump
They had looked behind every dresser and underneath all the furniture, only to find wine stains, red with age, and motes of dust on the carpet. With the minutes drawing agonizingly longer, Lukas couldn't take it anymore, and stopped to light a smoke in the hallway. Leaning beside a portrait, he took a drag and closed his eyes, willing the damned thumping to die down. When he opened them again, he was greeted by a familiar pair of black eyes beside a forgotten freckled face. A black and white portrait of two children hung beside various others, yellowed at the edges, and blurry with age.
Thump
He suddenly remembered the dispute earlier. And his failure to further address it.
"I apologize about Marinela," he slowly began between hazy bouts of smoke, not knowing where to start, nor where it was going, "she's... only looking out for eveybody. Always has been, since we were kids." He moved to sit on the small Bridgewater sofa by the window, accepting that he was tired. Leaning forward, he propped his elbows on top of his knees, the embers steadily burning down the length of the cigarette stub, to the edges of his fingers. It was then that he finally looked at Charlotte again, and gestured for her to sit if she wanted to.
"I need to rest for a minute," he breathed, explaning himself. His headache hadn't left him just yet, but it felt better than it was. "Sorry for all the trouble." Leaning back, and closing his eyes, he let his hand dangle on the armrest. "As for the staff, don't worry too much about them. I'm not... I just... have a... reputation to uphold." He fell silent after that, listening to the sound of the deluge outside, as a small voice in his head whispered repeatedly, as if in a reminder.
Suffocating, it said, accusingly.
Annalisa's name was the first and last thing that crossed his mind as soon as the darkness began. Even through the swathing gloom he was certain that he wouldn't have any trouble finding his way; knowing every winding hallway, dusty corner, and airy room of the damned estate.
Thump
And though he knew what steps to take with an easy familiarity of his childhood home, the uncertainty of where his tireless cousin could have hidden posed a sudden problem. A problem that he certainly did not want to tackle blindly in the dark. Dropping his hand from her shoulder, with the earlier events already forgotten, Lukas flicked on his lighter.
The ball of yellow-orange flame lit up a tiny glow through the dim, casting angry shadows that creeped along the corridor.
Thump
"Lisa could be anywhere," he admitted as he gestured for her to follow, the sound of his steps drowned out by the growing gale, "so we start everywhere." Stopping by the Foyer, he drew back the heavy curtain to an empty window sill.
Thump
"Lisa, if you can hear me, please come out. The generator is down and we can't play this game anymore." He shouted through the silence, trying to ignore the thrumming in his head, growing heavier by the minute. Last night and the argument at the Cafe was starting to catch up to him, hacking into the corners of his mind, like a dull knife sawing back and forth relentlessly. As the seconds ticked by, he found that he couldn't think straight.
Thump
"Lisa?"
The Library was empty.
Thump
So was the Conservatory.
Thump
The Smoke Room.
Thump
And the Pool Room.
Thump
They had looked behind every dresser and underneath all the furniture, only to find wine stains, red with age, and motes of dust on the carpet. With the minutes drawing agonizingly longer, Lukas couldn't take it anymore, and stopped to light a smoke in the hallway. Leaning beside a portrait, he took a drag and closed his eyes, willing the damned thumping to die down. When he opened them again, he was greeted by a familiar pair of black eyes beside a forgotten freckled face. A black and white portrait of two children hung beside various others, yellowed at the edges, and blurry with age.
Thump
He suddenly remembered the dispute earlier. And his failure to further address it.
"I apologize about Marinela," he slowly began between hazy bouts of smoke, not knowing where to start, nor where it was going, "she's... only looking out for eveybody. Always has been, since we were kids." He moved to sit on the small Bridgewater sofa by the window, accepting that he was tired. Leaning forward, he propped his elbows on top of his knees, the embers steadily burning down the length of the cigarette stub, to the edges of his fingers. It was then that he finally looked at Charlotte again, and gestured for her to sit if she wanted to.
"I need to rest for a minute," he breathed, explaning himself. His headache hadn't left him just yet, but it felt better than it was. "Sorry for all the trouble." Leaning back, and closing his eyes, he let his hand dangle on the armrest. "As for the staff, don't worry too much about them. I'm not... I just... have a... reputation to uphold." He fell silent after that, listening to the sound of the deluge outside, as a small voice in his head whispered repeatedly, as if in a reminder.
Suffocating, it said, accusingly.
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In an unusual bout of obedience, Charlotte silently followed Lukas, keeping close to the small circle of light that emitted from his hand as they delved deeper into the Brigham estate. Countless moved curtains, ducked under desks and pushed doors later, they were still as much in the dark as they've been when they started their search- literally and figuratively.
She only stopped when he did, eyes following the lighter as it changed purpose from illuminating their way to helping Lukas take a smoke break. She'd really have to talk to him about it if it would turn out he's as much of a heavy smoker as she thought he was, but one step at a time. She estimated the mindless fighting posed more of an immediate threat than the cigarettes. Taking advantage of their temporary stop, Charlie's eyes scanned around the little she could see. Photos hung on the wall- some faces familiar, some less. She thought she could see her betrothed, although much younger, within the see of people, but she didn't have the chance to take a closer look. When he spoke to her, her eyes instantly turned to look at Lukas, the face around them frozen in a misleading uninterested mask.
"Is she..." she opened when Marinela was brought up, although stopped short upon seeing Lukas sit down. He looked tired, exhausted even. Maybe the whole Marinela question could wait for another day. Actually, she wasn't even sure she was ready to hear the answer. The way she acted towards Lukas wasn't familial. Was he entering the contract with her while having a lover, one that seemed very pissed about the whole ordeal for that matter? Did he brake up with her in favor of their unusual business-merge? Was she a disgruntled ex? None of those options seemed very promising, and at that moment she didn't have the energy to deal with any of them. Instead, she closed the distance to Lukas, carefully sitting down next to him.
"Are you okay?" Charlotte asked, reaching to pluck the lighter from Lukas' hand and using it to cast as much light as she could on his injury. She was joking about the concussion thing earlier, but after his fight with Derek at the cafe... "Stitches look fine, but maybe you should lay down a little." After another minute of silently checking for any signs of worsening of his injuries, Charlie let out a sigh.
"Look, I get it. I don't know if I agree with your methods, but we all have to do what we have to do to keep our reputation." In a world of men, being a woman came with a lot of prejudice, skepticism and even disrespect. Charlie has been working for years to make sure not only outsiders, but some of their own men as well, took her seriously. And even if you were a man, especially when you hailed from a family such as either of theirs, you were always, first and foremost, someone's son. Earning your own worth was just as important as it was difficult.
She only stopped when he did, eyes following the lighter as it changed purpose from illuminating their way to helping Lukas take a smoke break. She'd really have to talk to him about it if it would turn out he's as much of a heavy smoker as she thought he was, but one step at a time. She estimated the mindless fighting posed more of an immediate threat than the cigarettes. Taking advantage of their temporary stop, Charlie's eyes scanned around the little she could see. Photos hung on the wall- some faces familiar, some less. She thought she could see her betrothed, although much younger, within the see of people, but she didn't have the chance to take a closer look. When he spoke to her, her eyes instantly turned to look at Lukas, the face around them frozen in a misleading uninterested mask.
"Is she..." she opened when Marinela was brought up, although stopped short upon seeing Lukas sit down. He looked tired, exhausted even. Maybe the whole Marinela question could wait for another day. Actually, she wasn't even sure she was ready to hear the answer. The way she acted towards Lukas wasn't familial. Was he entering the contract with her while having a lover, one that seemed very pissed about the whole ordeal for that matter? Did he brake up with her in favor of their unusual business-merge? Was she a disgruntled ex? None of those options seemed very promising, and at that moment she didn't have the energy to deal with any of them. Instead, she closed the distance to Lukas, carefully sitting down next to him.
"Are you okay?" Charlotte asked, reaching to pluck the lighter from Lukas' hand and using it to cast as much light as she could on his injury. She was joking about the concussion thing earlier, but after his fight with Derek at the cafe... "Stitches look fine, but maybe you should lay down a little." After another minute of silently checking for any signs of worsening of his injuries, Charlie let out a sigh.
"Look, I get it. I don't know if I agree with your methods, but we all have to do what we have to do to keep our reputation." In a world of men, being a woman came with a lot of prejudice, skepticism and even disrespect. Charlie has been working for years to make sure not only outsiders, but some of their own men as well, took her seriously. And even if you were a man, especially when you hailed from a family such as either of theirs, you were always, first and foremost, someone's son. Earning your own worth was just as important as it was difficult.
Svadilfari
The mediocre Gatsby
It was quiet for a moment, with the both of them listening to the pitter patter of rain, drumming wildly on the tall glass panes. The chaotic, rhythmic thrumming he found oddly comforting, coupled with the drafty, muted gloom. The strange solace of it all made him drowsy, his mind almost lost to sleep, when Charlotte brought him back to sudden wakefulness.
Snatching the lighter from his hand, she looked him over, commenting about his stitches and his need to lie down for a while.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah."
A lie.
The cig between his fingers had been reduced to a stub, the embers dry and long gone out, leaving fresh burns on his skin; angry purple and blue stains atop old, yellowed ones, from sleepless nights and tiresome days. Dropping the cig on a nearby ashtray, he ran a hand through his hair, weary from a certain kind of tiredness that he never learned how to get used to.
"Stitches look fine, but maybe you should lay down a little."
"Maybe I should-"
A truth.
Words that he is no stranger to. Get some sleep, Vasi. It has been five days, and you cannot keep lying to me! If I still see that useless bed made, I will have Victor beat you black and blue so you'll stay on that for days, I promise you. Half of the time Alina spent apart from taking care of her daughter and the Brigham affairs, she spent trying to get her nephew to rest, like an angry mother to a stubborn, difficult son who didn't know any better. She kept reminding him that she made a promise to his mother, a long time ago; a promise that she fully intended to keep. But he knew her enough to know that her concern stemmed more from something else than familial worry; it was more of the weighing guilt and gnawing shame, than spoken promises to a sickly woman she barely knew.
"- but there's nowhere to lay down on, so this will do," he shrugged, watching the shadows grow overhead, getting longer by the minute. He listened to her talk about reputation, and the things that had to be done to keep it. He looked at her then, and asked her if she ever grew tired of it. Of trying to always be 'on top of things.' 'Always fixing, always controlling, always placating.' Like trying to fight a wildfire that's never ending--
"If I'm going to be honest, Charlie,"
--at one point, you eventually run out of water for all of it.
"I don't know how long I can keep this going for."
He did not know what brought it about, but the words came spilling mindlessly nonetheless. Maybe it was the fatigue gnawing on his bones, weighing him down, heavy like stone. Or maybe it was the sound of the gale and the feel of the breeze, threatening to make him drift out of consciousness. Maybe it was because of the way she understood him; how they are a stitch similar to the other, alike in some ways, and in many ways not, making him feel as if it would be alright to tell her things that didn't need telling. Or maybe it was simply because he was tired, and he was talking more to himself than he was to her, daring to ask himself if it had all been worth it. Whatever the reason was, it had ran its course, making him drunk with a tired honesty.
"Living a life that's not really yours." He rested his head back again, turning his gaze to the coffered ceiling before closing his eyes. "I have so much to do, I barely have the time to rest. And even when I can, I couldn't. I need someone or something to literally knock me out so I can sleep, Charlie," he scoffed. "Sometimes I forget things, and when I do, it all goes to hell. Alina helps me manage, but there are some things I have to handle on my own. Business. Properties. People. Paperworks." He sat forward then, resuming to lean his elbows on his knees, his gaze now focused back to his fiancée, her features all aglow by the flame. "You know what I really want to do? Maybe just go under the damn rain for a while. Or get pizza. Watch a stupid movie." he grinned childishly then, and shook his head, averting his gaze to the floor. "What about you, Charlie? What do you really want?"
Snatching the lighter from his hand, she looked him over, commenting about his stitches and his need to lie down for a while.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah."
A lie.
The cig between his fingers had been reduced to a stub, the embers dry and long gone out, leaving fresh burns on his skin; angry purple and blue stains atop old, yellowed ones, from sleepless nights and tiresome days. Dropping the cig on a nearby ashtray, he ran a hand through his hair, weary from a certain kind of tiredness that he never learned how to get used to.
"Stitches look fine, but maybe you should lay down a little."
"Maybe I should-"
A truth.
Words that he is no stranger to. Get some sleep, Vasi. It has been five days, and you cannot keep lying to me! If I still see that useless bed made, I will have Victor beat you black and blue so you'll stay on that for days, I promise you. Half of the time Alina spent apart from taking care of her daughter and the Brigham affairs, she spent trying to get her nephew to rest, like an angry mother to a stubborn, difficult son who didn't know any better. She kept reminding him that she made a promise to his mother, a long time ago; a promise that she fully intended to keep. But he knew her enough to know that her concern stemmed more from something else than familial worry; it was more of the weighing guilt and gnawing shame, than spoken promises to a sickly woman she barely knew.
"- but there's nowhere to lay down on, so this will do," he shrugged, watching the shadows grow overhead, getting longer by the minute. He listened to her talk about reputation, and the things that had to be done to keep it. He looked at her then, and asked her if she ever grew tired of it. Of trying to always be 'on top of things.' 'Always fixing, always controlling, always placating.' Like trying to fight a wildfire that's never ending--
"If I'm going to be honest, Charlie,"
--at one point, you eventually run out of water for all of it.
"I don't know how long I can keep this going for."
He did not know what brought it about, but the words came spilling mindlessly nonetheless. Maybe it was the fatigue gnawing on his bones, weighing him down, heavy like stone. Or maybe it was the sound of the gale and the feel of the breeze, threatening to make him drift out of consciousness. Maybe it was because of the way she understood him; how they are a stitch similar to the other, alike in some ways, and in many ways not, making him feel as if it would be alright to tell her things that didn't need telling. Or maybe it was simply because he was tired, and he was talking more to himself than he was to her, daring to ask himself if it had all been worth it. Whatever the reason was, it had ran its course, making him drunk with a tired honesty.
"Living a life that's not really yours." He rested his head back again, turning his gaze to the coffered ceiling before closing his eyes. "I have so much to do, I barely have the time to rest. And even when I can, I couldn't. I need someone or something to literally knock me out so I can sleep, Charlie," he scoffed. "Sometimes I forget things, and when I do, it all goes to hell. Alina helps me manage, but there are some things I have to handle on my own. Business. Properties. People. Paperworks." He sat forward then, resuming to lean his elbows on his knees, his gaze now focused back to his fiancée, her features all aglow by the flame. "You know what I really want to do? Maybe just go under the damn rain for a while. Or get pizza. Watch a stupid movie." he grinned childishly then, and shook his head, averting his gaze to the floor. "What about you, Charlie? What do you really want?"
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With every unconvincing answer Lukas gave her, the look of dissatisfaction on Charlie's face deepened. He was a shitty liar. Or maybe she was just good at reading people after doing it for so long. Or maybe, it was the fact that despite his words, his body couldn't lie- the shadows under his eyes, pale complexion and shallow breath all told a clear tale of exhaustion. And not just a physical one, judging by her betrothed next words.
"Lukas..." She started, although she wasn't sure how to continue. While she knew just how demanding and exhausting, Sisyphean even, the job could be, she also genuinely liked it. She wouldn't have gone through all the trouble she had if she didn't. But then again, she also had a tight support network. The Ayton family was close in more than one way, and although suffocating at times, it also saved her countless others, when the burden was too heavy to carry alone. Did Lukas have the same help and support when he needed them? Was there someone he could turn to when things just got too much to handle? Was he ever given a choice in the course his life took?
She turned to look at him, taking in a deep breath she let out in the form of a surprised chuckle. The things he wanted might have sounded stupid to someone else, but they made so much sense to her.
"The beach," she smiled, leaning her head back against the wall. "Taking a day off and just going away. Go see the ocean. Turn off my phone, lay in the sun all day and do nothing." Once upon a time, when they were still three, they did it often. Not so much these days.
"I think you spent enough time in the rain today... but maybe we can have pizza in the reception," she chuckled again. "My dad would have a meltdown."
Joaquin had a certain appreciation to tradition and grandiose events. That's why the wedding couldn't be a simple, intimate event. That's why their clothes had to be nothing but the finest. Why the venue had to be meticulously decorated. Why it had to include an expensive caterer and a complex dinner to be served to the guests. She would have loved scaling it down... a lot, but she had a feeling this was for him just as much as it was for her. Even if through a contract, matrimony had a sacred meaning in Joaquin's eyes, and therefore everything had to be just right when he would marry off his only child.
Absentmindedly, Charlotte's finger slipped off the lighter, shrouding them in darkness. In it, the rain sounded heavier, their breathing clearer, and the silence louder. It was a sudden peacefulness, dream-like almost. For a moment, it gave Charlie the break she needed from everything and just couldn't get that day. And in that moment, a swift movement was all it took for her to wrap her fingers around Lukas' arm, pulling and manipulating his body into a horizontal position, his feet at the end of the couch and his head in her lap.
"Ten minutes. I'll wake you up when they're up." Could he see the pink that dusted the face that turned to look away from him in the dark? Did the heat that accompanied it traveled to the fingers that ran through his hair?
"You don't have to do everything alone," she murmured in a voice just barely more than a whisper. "It's not just you anymore. It's okay to ask for help when you need it," advice she was better at giving than implementing herself. "Alina... the things she can't help with, I'm pretty sure I can. I know I can do them better than you." She offered a tease, trying to make the situation a little less embarrassing. "Tell me when things get too much. I'll help."
"Lukas..." She started, although she wasn't sure how to continue. While she knew just how demanding and exhausting, Sisyphean even, the job could be, she also genuinely liked it. She wouldn't have gone through all the trouble she had if she didn't. But then again, she also had a tight support network. The Ayton family was close in more than one way, and although suffocating at times, it also saved her countless others, when the burden was too heavy to carry alone. Did Lukas have the same help and support when he needed them? Was there someone he could turn to when things just got too much to handle? Was he ever given a choice in the course his life took?
She turned to look at him, taking in a deep breath she let out in the form of a surprised chuckle. The things he wanted might have sounded stupid to someone else, but they made so much sense to her.
"The beach," she smiled, leaning her head back against the wall. "Taking a day off and just going away. Go see the ocean. Turn off my phone, lay in the sun all day and do nothing." Once upon a time, when they were still three, they did it often. Not so much these days.
"I think you spent enough time in the rain today... but maybe we can have pizza in the reception," she chuckled again. "My dad would have a meltdown."
Joaquin had a certain appreciation to tradition and grandiose events. That's why the wedding couldn't be a simple, intimate event. That's why their clothes had to be nothing but the finest. Why the venue had to be meticulously decorated. Why it had to include an expensive caterer and a complex dinner to be served to the guests. She would have loved scaling it down... a lot, but she had a feeling this was for him just as much as it was for her. Even if through a contract, matrimony had a sacred meaning in Joaquin's eyes, and therefore everything had to be just right when he would marry off his only child.
Absentmindedly, Charlotte's finger slipped off the lighter, shrouding them in darkness. In it, the rain sounded heavier, their breathing clearer, and the silence louder. It was a sudden peacefulness, dream-like almost. For a moment, it gave Charlie the break she needed from everything and just couldn't get that day. And in that moment, a swift movement was all it took for her to wrap her fingers around Lukas' arm, pulling and manipulating his body into a horizontal position, his feet at the end of the couch and his head in her lap.
"Ten minutes. I'll wake you up when they're up." Could he see the pink that dusted the face that turned to look away from him in the dark? Did the heat that accompanied it traveled to the fingers that ran through his hair?
"You don't have to do everything alone," she murmured in a voice just barely more than a whisper. "It's not just you anymore. It's okay to ask for help when you need it," advice she was better at giving than implementing herself. "Alina... the things she can't help with, I'm pretty sure I can. I know I can do them better than you." She offered a tease, trying to make the situation a little less embarrassing. "Tell me when things get too much. I'll help."
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