𝒶.𝓀.

“You did, calling football the s word is a serious offense. You’re lucky to know me or you’d have been thrown in jail,” he laughs along with her, the conversation now bordering on absurd. “Thank you Marredith, it’s much appreciated,“ he tells her in a solemn tone once he’s stopped laughing enough to speak but soon enough, he starts laughing again so much and so hard that tears run down his cheeks. His uncontrollable laughter is in part due to their comical conversation but also the tiredness from the nine hours flight, even though he spent most of it sleeping, and the jet-lag catching up to him. “I’ll be by your side the entire time, Mar. You have nothing to worry about, it’ll go well.” He too puts sheets on the floor along with all the pillows he can find in the room. “I’d say, approximately a large amount,” how is he supposed to know this. 

Alek: it's amusing

“What do you mean, you took care of Jini?” he narrows his eyes at his boyfriend. “I trust her not to say anything about what she saw.” Sometimes, Alek can’t help but wonder what it would be like to love Lysander freely, without having to pretend he despises him when in truth, he loves him so deeply. He knows realistically they can’t be together out in the open, at least not until senior year is over but he can’t help but greedily wanting, wanting, wanting. Yet again, he’s taken aback by his boyfriend’s confession. He didn’t expect Lysander to enjoy it rough, he can still remember the first time they ‘fooled around’, if you could call that disastrous date night fooling around, and his request to take it slow and careful. “Uh.” Unsurprisingly, he feels that tell-tale pooling of warmth in his lower abdomen. “It’s not weird, I did too. Very much so,” he pushes his lap flush with his boyfriend’s to underline his confession. Not only did he enjoy it immensely that night, even though there’s still some guilt and shame that lingers in him for treating Lysander poorly though he clearly enjoyed that side of him, but the idea of it happening again is very much appealing to the boy. “So much, baby, so badly,” Alek presses his chest even closer against his boyfriend’s, his hands slowly snaking their way up his back under the fabric of his shirt and leaning in closer, he whispers, “you’re playing with fire, baby, teasing me like that,” he tsks, his chest falling and raising rapidly and heart beating madly against his ribs. 

This time he waits until he’s done chewing to answer. "Haven’t you heard? I was raised by a pack of wild wolves,” he fires back, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. You don’t have to tell him twice, he takes another two boxes from her hands and puts it in his backpack to eat when he’s home later. There’s no hesitation as he opens the sketchbook back up and shows Rothy the drawing he’s working on--it’s rough, extremely so, at this stage--the other is one of the few people he doesn’t mind showing his art to. “It’s a tattoo design.” 

"One that works? I’ve been trying to find an effective one for years but I never could. Jet-lag always gets to me.” Alek laughs lightly when she uses a mnemonic device to answer his question about the direction they’re heading. West. Now, he has a slight suspicion to their destination but he doesn’t ask further questions--he still wants to be surprised. The car ride to the airport is a quick one and before he knows it, they reach their destination. 

“Of cou---” He freezes mid-sentence, the second question earning a shocked gasp and incredulous look. "I have failed you as an uncle, Marredith, I’m so sorry,” is he being overdramatic? maybe, just a tad. “Football is the s word Mar and football should never be referred to as the s word, ever, it’s sacrilegious.” he shakes his head as though genuinely disappointed in her for not knowing football is soccer but in truth, he finds some humor in her cluelessness. “Your manners aren’t terrible, no worries,” he assures her. “First, there’s bowing or curtsey to the monarchs as greeting. It’s not a rule per se, you aren’t obligated to, but it’s good manners to. Second, using the right greetings. On presentation to the Queen and King, the correct address is Your Majesty and subsequently Ma'am and Sir. There’s a few more but it’s enough for now, I don’t want to overwhelm you.” As soon as he gets an answer to his query, he’s opening all the drawers in the room for spare linen to create the fort in the hallway to connect their bedrooms. “Let’s do it.”

Alek: toodles

"Do I look like I give a damn about how your summer went?” With an eyeroll, he walks around the other teenager and searches the shelf for the book he needs to work on his project for his AP Spanish class. 

He releases an annoyed breath when he’s stopped in his steps and a camera is shoved in his face. His annoyance only increasing with the question asked. Why would they ask him, of all people, about Dante. “Are you looking for an honest answer or one that’ll paint him in a flattering light? I can’t do both, I’m afraid.” 

"Is that a challenge, Park?” Unlike two months prior, there’s no venom in his tone as he addresses her by her last name. She is likely to be proven correct in her belief that he wil fall back into old habits, habits are hard to break, but Alek is a stubborn person therefore he’s determined to prove her wrong. “Challenge accepted.”

His eyebrows shoots up in surprise because nine hours? He expected a trip to Canada or Hawaii, not somewhere far. Regardless, his excitement doesn’t lessen. "We’re going to be in such terrible shape when we go back to school,” he points out with laugh and follows his cousin inside the car. No matter how much traveling he does, and he’s done a lot of it during the ten weeks holidays, jet-lag never gets easier to overcome. He wiggles in his seat when the car begins its journey to the airport, anticipation and adrenaline rushing through his entire body. “The only thing I want to know is, are we heading west, east or south?”

"Are you hearing yourself, why would I take advice from an app?” He rolls his eyes at him. “Do you mind translating this to English, Wesley, astrology isn’t one of the languages I’m fluent in.” Out of all the Windsors Lysander and Araminta are the last two that comes to his mind as possible culprits in Dante’s demise. Then again, his opinion is slightly biased by his ties to the both of them. “I can’t affirm with a hundred percent certitude that one of them had something to do with it but like I said, some people are willing to go very far to get to the top.” Having grown up in the environment that he did, Alek is well aware how far people are willing to go for power. “The tyrant and Belzébuth are all-bite-and-no-bark. Dante Jr though, if his reaction to not getting a spot in the cult is anything to go by, is a wild card and as machiavellian and entitled as his mentor was. It could also be the half brother too, out of anger because he resented Dante for the life he could have had, or one of the ex girlfriends out of jealousy, or a former member of the wannabes or one of his many peers he’s been bullying for years. The list of possible culprits is endless.”

His suggestion is meant as a joke but he shouldn’t be surprised Marredith takes it seriously. “Absolutely,” he answers with a laugh. “I’ll buy one for myself too, it’ll be fun. We could play football in them like in those videos on YouTube, you know the ones.” Alek has an inkling this will end more disastrously than if his best friend roams the halls of the Palace without being in a giant bubble but a lot more fun for the both of them. To her next question, he shakes his head negatively. “Manners, definitely not but there are a few rules that everyone have to follow, myself included, in the presence of my parents. Things will be a lot more relaxed because we’re at home than let’s say if you met them under official circumstances but there’s still a certain level of respect to maintain at all times.” He opens the door to the bedroom she’s staying in during the stay and ushers her inside. “Have I ever told you, I love your mind? Because I do, very much so. Do you want to do that now or later?” 

The effect is immediate, a smile takes over the boy’s features to seeing one of his best friends and widens when he takes one of the Tupperware from her hands. He puts his pencil behind his ear and closes his sketchbook before he grabs one of Balkavas inside. “Marry me,” he mumbles after taking a bite though it sounds more like murfeh mah. “These are so good,” he pats the seat next to him, inviting Rothy to sit.