Searching.

Angel wasn't sure what possessed her to actually get in the car and subject herself to whatever bullshit he wanted to feed her. That was until she felt the atmosphere, realizing the power had been placed in her hands after their last meeting. After feeling trapped between his gaze and those of his peers it was now only her eyes that bore into him, seeing the man underneath the custom-tailored suit. The blonde's eyes shifted between him and the road as they started on the journey to nowhere. At least the wheeze of the wind kept her distracted from the words that were taking up space beneath her tongue, debating on letting them all free to run a muck in the car or forcing him to make the first move.

Luckily for her, he made up his mind before she had the chance to break the ice forming between them. It was a simple question really, but Angel knew it was deeper than that, reading invisible ink behind words being the only way they communicated anymore. "That's what you brought me out here to ask?" The blonde adjusted then so that she could watch him squirm in wait for her answer. After all he'd put her through, she figured she could at least enjoy the power shift while it lasted before he went back to being the Isle's most beloved boy. It was with a deep sigh that she eventually responded to the question that hung in the air. "I-I don't know. As much as I've always wanted to get the fuck out of here I've actually kind of made a home for myself here. I got this grant to build my own shop and Atta put in a good word so her husband doesn't steal all my business." A smile almost formed before remembering her situation and sinking back into the seat for support. "Sorry to disappoint you if you were looking to get rid of me for good this time," she said through a grumble, her arms folding across her chest as armor to protect her heart from whatever he may say next.

Angel was the exception, a diamond in the rough he’d once tried to convince himself was just a fleeting fancy. Someone he'd replace with time, just another memory folded away. But time had proved him wrong. Days turned into months, and her voice only grew louder in his head, an echo that refused to fade.

When she finally answered, he exhaled, relief flooding his chest. "That's nice," Kit replied casually, though his tone betrayed a flicker of the elation he tried to suppress. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, stealing a quick glance at her before focusing back on the road. "I just... I figured you’d want to leave," he added, clearing his throat. "And, honestly," he paused, searching for the right words, "I don’t want to risk not seeing you again." Before she could respond, he pressed forward, as if afraid to linger too long in the moment. "I’m glad you’re finally out of the junkyard. Atta and your boss, huh? Didn’t see that twist coming," he said, a small grin tugging at his lips.

Angel didn't have a good excuse as to why she'd decided to tell him her whereabouts, her subconscious still clinging to the life it had created for them when she lived in his house. That was until reality hit her like a semi coming through an abandoned highway and she could still feel the bruises it had left behind. Whatever fantasy world the blonde had been in while under his roof had been revealed as the dream she could only reach for and ever grasp. While she'd known he was too good to be true she hadn't prepared for the things that still lingered. Whether it was unsaid words, a ghostly touch, or just the longing to see his face, Angel couldn't deny that something in her still craved him.

The familiar hum of his car engine drew her outside, grabbing her jean jacket as she went to join him. Even if it wasn't that cold out she felt the need to pull her arms through the outerwear so that she had the cuffs to fidget with when the tension inevitably rose. Whether they said a word to each other she could feel it like a thread between them that made her lose her better judgment whenever he was around. "I was up anyway finishing work," Angel said simply. "You wanna go for a drive?" Not only could she use the air but she found it easier to talk openly when she was in the cabin of a car where the world couldn't hear her.

"Yeah, definitely," he said quickly, nodding as he moved to open the door for her. There was an edge of nervousness in his movements, like a boy fumbling for approval. Once she was buckled in, Kit lingered for a moment, gripping the steering wheel as if anchoring himself. He glanced at her, mouth half-open as if to speak, but her firm, quiet look told him to just start driving. Fair enough. If they stayed parked, he might lose his nerve altogether.

The engine roared to life, and with the windows down, they drove aimlessly. The wind tangled in their silence, the hum of the road the only sound between them. Kit stole a glance at her when he thought she wouldn’t notice. Finally, summoning what courage he could muster, he broke the silence. "Are you going to leave the Isle, Angel?" His voice was calm, but his knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. His eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, though his mind was miles away, silently praying she’d say what he needed to hear.

Angel thumped her wrench rhythmically against the hood of the rust bucket her boss wanted for pickup the following morning. While the blonde hated that she'd been stuck there working late, it also meant she was the best mechanic at the shop which she wasn't one to deny. No one else would've been able to get it ready in that time and when Buster needed to make a sale nothing stood in his way. It was only the familiar ding of her phone with his name that could've distracted her like this and caused her stomach to churn. He'd felt like a distant memory she had to remind herself existed, feeling like the good between them was a dream Angel couldn't have again. No matter how many times she closed her eyes nothing took her back to those moments.

The words felt etched into her skin as Angel read them over again. Like a burn she'd been unable to soothe, he stuck to her and she was left to deal with the scars. Still, she found herself typing back when she knew she shouldn't but better judgment was taking a backseat to the throttle. "Don't say that. You don't get to say that," she typed, instinctively hitting send. Angel paused before she kept going because she knew there would be no going back. "Junkyard gate is open, I'm working late," the blonde sent before her brain got the best of her. An invitation she didn't need to spell out but left for him to accept at his own risk. That was the only way she knew how to tell him that she felt the same without uttering the words Angel couldn't trust anymore.

His heart pounded as he drove through the dark night. His thoughts were on her, weighed down by the sinking grief that he might lose her forever. Perhaps he was being selfish for constantly wanting her, but there was no one else like her. Kit knew that, and he had experienced it firsthand.

His car stopped in front of the junkyard, and he knew she would recognize the sound of his engine. He waited outside, which felt like an eternity. Soon enough she came around, and his longing eyes met hers. "I'm sorry to keep you up."

As Kit re-entered, Atta's furrowed brow as she skimmed over the final pages of the packet she'd been dissecting lifted into a relieved smile, genuinely glad to see a familiar face amongst all the lawyers she'd already spoken to. "It went well," she informed him, having been stressful, but ending in where she'd needed to be, which was all that mattered. "I think we're all settled. And, now I owe you for the rest of time," Atta added lightheartedly, placing a kiss on his cheek in greeting. "I can't thank you enough, for everything."

It had been hard to get hold of the blonde girl lately. Kit felt like something big was about to happen, with major shadows moving around. There were whispers of the borders opening, an idea he found insane. Who would want to risk such an unknown? And hadn’t this island been enough for them in the first place? Of course, Kit only knew luxury, as he was, well, Kit. The bombing at the festival confirmed his suspicions—there was indeed a lot happening in the background. With Dot hurt and several others injured, he knew Atta must know more.

When he finally caught up to her at an event, he sat her down and began, "How's Dot feeling?" Kit asked, his voice filled with concern. "I've been hearing things, but this is all new to me," he remarked. Kit had always been more occupied with his work, and the sudden influx of gossip was overwhelming. "Have you known about this for a while?"

Angel continued to observe him with eyebrows arched unamused by his attempt at sobriety. This wasn't the first time she'd looked straight into the eyes of a Kit overtaken with the substances he covered his world in. Things would have to be written more clearly to get a real answer out of him instead of the same nonsense. "What do you want from me, seriously? I'm not in the mood to play this little game with you." It hadn't come as a surprise that things couldn't be simple but Angel desperately wished they could. Perhaps in another life they stayed in the blanket fort and never let the world's influences in. "Last we talked to had another blonde conveniently named Angelique to do that," she reminded him. A woman's face she hadn't been able to forget since, obsessed with the idea of what she had that Angel didn't.

"Kit..." Her voice trailed off while she let out a shaky breath and pushed stray hair back from her face. "You know I can't do that." Things had changed between them whether he wanted to pretend like they still belonged to one another. The blonde's feet pulled her forward before her better judgment could stop her, getting to her knees once she reached his driver's seat. "You wouldn't wanna see my place anyway, I don't even have a room to myself," Angel explained so that he didn't fight her further on it. "You don't have to go back to your house but I'm not going to leave you out here alone especially not when you're like this." Maybe she should but now she couldn't get herself to move.

“I’ve simply come to my senses,” he added. Perhaps in his desperate attempts to find her, he found himself facing his fears instead—and the glaring fact that he was meant to be alone, a pawn to the business. And she was meant for greater things, a better life, and a man who wasn’t stuck in his ways. She would find peace, knowing that the elites wouldn't look at her in mockery anymore. Perhaps this was a battle they couldn’t win. Kit looked up at her and sighed. “Angel, you don’t have to take care of me anymore,” he added with a weary chuckle. He wanted to ask her how her life was now that he was gone. Did she sleep peacefully? Were his funds reaching her? He wanted to know if she was okay, beyond what he could see and beyond what he had done—but it wasn't his place anymore. “You can leave me, again.”

She knew those glazed eyes far too well, having seen them look at her that way before. What she once thought was reserved for her had been exploited for the same game he always played. A finger flinched while Angel fought back the urge to fall into him once again as if this time would be any different. "Cut it out, you're just drunk," the blonde retorted while her arms folded over her chest to create a barrier against him. Perhaps then she could ward off some of the sensations to reach out towards a flame that burned too hot. She was rolling the dice enough by saying as long as she had already.

"Stop looking at me like that." Angel's jaw tightened at the eyes that saw through her. Nothing good would come of this conversation, she grew to understand more by the second. "You either need to sleep it off here or let me drive you home. Pick," she instructed him trying not to move from what actually mattered. Not to mention if he pushed it wouldn't take much for her emotions to bust after being contained since that night. "What're you even doing out here anyway? Don't you have some girlfriend or a party to be schmoozing instead of me?"

“Take me home with you,” he pleaded, sounding almost childlike in his desperation. Beyond Kit’s usual charm and sophistication, under the influence, he was reduced to a vulnerable boy, haunted by the absence of his mother and burdened by the expectations of his father. In the midst of social gatherings, he played the part of the carefree host, surrounded by his toys—guests trying to entertain him. But she was different, she was his favorite toy, one he had lost along the way. “Don’t bring me back, I—“ he faltered, his voice trailing off as he looked down, his vulnerability laid bare. “Leave me here, if you want. Just don’t bring me back.”

What he said next took her a moment to process, not surprised that Hopper had begun to move ahead again now that the dust had settled from her failed wedding, but more shocked that he had gone to Kit himself. "He did?" Atta had known the risk of getting her best friend involved in her business, but she refused to let him deal with any of the long-term consequences of what she'd done. "Are you free tomorrow morning? We can take care of the paperwork. I'll talk to Hopper tonight and let him know," she replied, decisive. She didn't want the rest of his night to be ruined on her account. "You enjoy yourself tonight, okay? Don't worry about it."

Once she finished, Kit withdrew slightly, studying Atta's face. There was a certain glow about her, perhaps from newfound freedom, though he wasn't quite sure. He draped his arm over her shoulder, drawing her close to his chest as he kissed her forehead, offering reassurance. "You got this, you got me," he affirmed, patting her shoulder gently. "I may be a mess, but you've got me." With that, he departed, returning to accompany his date once more.

---time skip

The following day, as they gathered to finalize the papers, Kit entered the room with a familiar chuckle echoing from the hallway. He was once again flirting with his father's visitors. "Hey, Atta," he greeted with a nod, this time closing the door behind him. "Sorry, got a bit sidetracked. Are you alright? Fancy some tea?" he offered, calling out to the maids for refreshments. In the grandeur of the Charming mansion, unlike his own private place, Kit slipped back into the role of a somewhat spoiled young man. "How was the discussion? I hope it wasn't too difficult for you," he asked, genuinely concerned about Atta's case.

The way they'd left things was bitter, Angel still stewing on the words he'd dismissed her with. While she once believed she was more than another face in Kit Charming's crowd, he quickly showed her how invisible she was after all. That night she'd filled the space he left behind with alcohol and the company of another brown-haired boy. It hadn't removed the pain but distracted herself with other feelings in the hopes the hurt would fade away. Whenever the thought of him would creep in she'd take Ruby's piece of shit car and drive it through town with the windows down. Only then did his ghostly touch on her skin get chilled from the night wind, the lips that were once his now singing words cursing his existence. Even if she'd found another bed to sleep in some nights there was a lingering of him that Angel couldn't deny.

Tonight she'd found herself behind the same wheel, her blonde hair a flurry in the breeze. There was one place she was certain she could be alone; where only dust and empty bottles would bother her or so she thought. As Angel pulled closer she saw the all-too-familiar headlights, something in her chest sinking while she pulled the car into park. While she didn't necessarily want to confront the very thing that had been on her mind all night, she feared what she might find more. Her knuckles tapped against his window to make sure the boy who she secretly hoped died hadn't actually. "That's all you have to say?" The blonde raised an eyebrow, stepping back from his car as if she'd get burnt again being too close. "What the fuck are you doing out here? You look like shit."

There was no single coherent thought in Kit's mind. Perhaps the alcohol had overwhelmed him, compounded by the drugs he had indulged in— his state now a far cry from the morning's clarity. Left alone, his vision blurred and his sense of direction lost, perhaps a part of him yearned for oblivion, to escape the gaping void in his chest. And there she was, with her sharp tongue and pretty face, his favorite muse. Kit chuckled, uncertain of what else to say.

Her green eyes glared at him in wait, as if he'd actually give her the answer that she wanted. She thought she could read him well but this was proving her uncertain. No matter how hard she looked into his gaze the truth seemed too far out of reach. All she could do was accept his words as truth and shrug it off. "Fun coincidence then," she muttered while folding her arms across her chest. He'd provided a strange scenario that not even Angel knew how to navigate. It wasn't until his hand was on her arm that she even looked up. The familiar electric current shot down into her fingertips that fought the urge to reach out to him. He'd chosen another path that she wasn't on and when she reminded herself that she was able to shrug off his hand.

Kit's disinterest in his date caused her features to scrunch in observation. Whatever game he was playing, she didn't want to buy into and stayed quiet to not further it. All she needed to know was what he'd already said or so she thought. "What?" Angel had heard him but needed a moment for the words to process in her own head. "You... You didn't pursue anything with her but you didn't come find me? Or tell me? Or even try to reach out?" What he might've been hoping to achieve with his confession backfired. The blonde now saw the bigger gap that had been made between them. It didn't make sense but maybe this was how rich people always were, she'd just thought he was different than the rest of them. "What changed? Why are you telling me this now? To rub it in my face along with your pretty blonde date, yeah, no thanks."

-- time skip--

Kit's constant companion became his glass, perpetually filled halfway with amber liquor, reminiscent of his habit during his teenage years. Soon enough, the parties at the Charming mansion resumed, private affairs teeming with celebrities, models, and influential figures. His bed became a revolving door of new faces, one after another. He convinced himself that he was back in his element, back to the Kit he was before everyone left him. With another shot of vodka, under the pressure of his so-called friends, he impulsively took one of the sports cars, the most memorable one, for a reckless joyride. Drunk and drugged, he drove aimlessly until his hand went numb, finally pulling over in the middle of nowhere and resting his head on the steering wheel. He was numb to the core, and he was searching for something he couldn't quite tell. Kit lost track of time until he heard knuckles rapping against the car window. "You," He smiled lazily, opening the door but unable to move from his seat.

What she once thought was going to be her forever had hit its expiration date. The world where he'd wanted to be with her was in the past and Angel hadn't quite adjusted to the new view. While she'd been telling herself for weeks that she'd been fine with what had happened it all came to a collision in that moment. He'd told it to her simply and there was nothing else to do besides accept the truth. The last thing she'd wanted was for him to see through her own facade. If he had moved on then so had she, straightening her posture to match his ever pristine demeanor. "Right, yeah, for sure," she agreed going as far as to nod more than necessary. It was a lie she needed to believe in order to not get called out for it. "I'm happy for you, really." Even she couldn't stop herself from rambling but simply rolled with the punches as they were thrown. Maybe he hadn't known he was handing them out in the first place but the bruises of his words would stay for long past that night. She'd feel them when she least expected it and she knew that was inevitable. No matter how easy she wanted forgetting Kit Charming to be, it simply wasn't that easy to remove his imprint in her life.

"Come on, you couldn't even be original enough to find another name to remember," she quipped with her arms folding, her glass hanging loosely from her hand. For two people who were supposed to have moved on the space between them kept getting smaller. If things had gone differently she wondered if this would've been when he stole a kiss or they made a discreet exit outside to smoke the joint in her bra. Instead, they stood a foot apart but miles away from one another. "I've never asked you to before, have I?" Angel had been the one to go with the naive idea that he'd come after her if it had been what she thought. Now would've been the time to do so but even then she wasn't able to say it. "I just wouldn't want you to leave your date waiting," the blonde spoke, the words tasting bitter on the way out. The truth actually being that she wasn't quite ready to let go again but the cracks in their foundation would send what was left crumbling at any moment. "I don't mind, you can do whatever you want."

Perhaps it would've been wise to leave, to mingle with others, to embody the charming and outgoing Kit he was known for, basking in constant attention. Yet, he remained rooted in place, simply because she was there. "I never pursued anything with Ella, you know?" he confessed, forcing a smile. "I truly didn't realize that she was, well frankly, it was my mistake."

They were playing the game again and Angel wasn't sure that her hand was good enough to beat his. She still kept her cards close to her chest, believing that he'd realize she was bluffing if she gave too much truth away. It was his lack of remorse that caused her blood to boil beneath her skin. She'd never been all that good at hiding her emotions anyway, especially when she got angry, but she bit her lip at the sake of Atta's evening. The last thing she'd need to deal with was hearing that Angel started a fight with Kit as tempting as it was. Instead, the sour smile on her face continued to spoil until it turned into a scowl.

"Oh, fuck you," she said bluntly, unable to hold it back at his comment on their name similarities. It felt like the one thing that belonged to her alone was stolen. A name might not have meant much to everyone but for many years it was the only thing that was hers. As if it wasn't enough that he'd found a replica of her, he replaced her own name with another face. Angel's eye twitched at his recognition of her decisions that she'd regretted up until this moment. "I didn't see you come looking for me either to show me I was wrong but now I get why. You just found someone else to put in that place instead. I didn't know we were all so replaceable." Each word was poison as it came from her lips, dripping with the pain she felt, and now used a weapon against him. Angel held herself back because of the knot forming in her throat. If she pushed too far she'd break herself on her way to him.

Her job wasn't something that should've interested him but the continuation of the question caused her to tilt her head with confusion. "I mean, no but yes. I'm just here watching out for them after what happened with Tramp and all. Unless Atta has a car she needs to be worked on but she hasn't asked me about that yet," she said almost joking, a smile starting to pinch the edge of her lips before the acknowledgment of his date smothered it. "You can't just stand there and say that to me," Angel contested. "You don't get to tell me I'm stuck in the past when you're here with another me." Her lips pushed together to hold back the venom that sat heavily on her tongue. The blood rushed to her cheeks as she fought against her own demons as if they were going to come out of her mouth without her even noticing. "I know what you're doing Kit," she said with more shakiness than she'd intended. He wasn't going to break her here but he was getting closer than she'd anticipated. "You know that isn't what it is." Her lip quivered as she said it while her eyes locked with his in a silent plea for seriousness. The game didn't seem all that fun anymore when she was the only one with something to lose.

With a heavy sigh, he tore his eyes away, returning his focus to the bustling crowd while maintaining his position by her side. Should he confess that he had sought her out? Should he admit he still longed for her? He wasn't sure if that would be wise. After all, he had come with a date, and the last thing he desired was a repeat of past complications. He might later regret his silence, regret not expressing that she was the one who filled his dreams, the one he truly yearned for. But like a gentleman, he remained silent, accepting her assumptions. "You're irreplaceable," he asserted firmly, correcting her. No one could take her place, no matter how hard he tried. Even if he found someone similar, she would always be unique. "I've simply moved on," he lied, averting his gaze to mask his false narrative. "And I know you have too." They had never discussed their future, and though he felt certain she was the one, perhaps they had simply been caught in the moment.

Kit chuckled softly, crossing his arms as he teasingly remarked, "Another you? I must have missed that." It may have been unwise to remain so close to her, to bridge the gap between them, but he was stubborn, uncertain when he might have another chance to see her. So he lingered, despite the potential consequences. "I understand, Angel. If you want me to leave, just say the word," he added, leaning in slightly. "Do you want me to go?"

Her next comment was halted by his response which merited a heavy exhale before she said anything. "Ha, of course you do." He was Kit Charming after all, it made sense that he knew French among what other languages he'd been taught. Angel tended to forget that he was a man of money, status, and education while she never got past high school. It made sense that he'd been attracted to the language as he now was their blondes. Perhaps there was still a lot she didn't know about him but it was too late to find those things out now. Even this fun fact hadn't been brought on by their usual conversations but by the presence of another woman. It made her wonder if she'd still been living in the fantasy, believing that he would've shown up at Atta's door looking for her. Instead, they met through glances in a crowded room when they both had other places they should be beside in front of each other once again. It was her name that almost made Angel choke on the whiskey that she'd brought to coat some of the regrets she'd have from this conversation. "Wow, isn't that convenient... Of course, it is," the blonde said with a huffed laugh to follow. Leave it to Kit to find a woman who was blonde, French, and just so happened to have a name far too similar to hers. It left her wondering if she had only been another copy after all. "I remember when you told me you'd show me around and I ended up in your bed," she replied simply before lifting her glass back up, in need of liquid courage to help her through.

Their closeness caused the hair on her arm to stand up. His familiar scent wafted and she caught herself indulging in him again. It was all too good to be true because it wasn't, she hadn't come on his arm and wouldn't be anymore. Angel held herself accountable and maintained the space between them even if she was drawn closer to his light. "I'm here for work so, you know," the blonde shrugged in the hopes he didn't ask for more detail. It would've come off as pathetic next to Kit who had seemed to move on quite seamlessly. "Atta and Buster employ me now, who would've thought right? My boss, your best friend, fucking married." Maybe it was all just too close for comfort. "Don't you have a date to get back to instead of talking to me?" She was hitting all of the low-hanging fruit, her own pettiness wanting to get everything that was within reach. A mental note was made to not come to one of these things without a date unless she wanted to face this predicament again.

Ella was undeniably beautiful, captivating even. She had left her mark on him, though she no longer occupied his dreams with the same fervor. He longed to hear Angel's voice, to feel her warmth beside him, yet she was the very thing she had taken from him. "Angel is a lovely name, isn't it?" he remarked with a compliment, attempting to deflect her remarks until one hit a nerve. His lips pursed, uncertain of how to respond next. The truth in her comment stung — yes, he had indeed slept with her after their date. And having someone to fill his bed who bore a resemblance to her wasn't such a terrible idea. She had called him out on it before he could even articulate the thought. "I never asked you to leave, did I?" he retorted, biting his lip. This was delicate ground now; he knew it would only provoke her, and the last thing he wanted was to argue.

"Working, I see," he acknowledged with a nod. Of course, she had returned to her previous pursuits, and it broke something within him. He didn't want her to return to the junkyard. Kit had wanted to provide her with a semblance of normalcy, a life where she could be herself. He had failed, and he began to hate himself for it until she mentioned Atta. "You're working for Atta now?" he repeated, a spark of hope igniting within him. That was a solution. He could simply speak to Atta, arrange for Angel to pursue her studies again or find a job she enjoyed. She didn't need to return to the junkyard, and with Atta's favor, it was all possible. He knew she would agree. "Small world, isn't it? Seems you couldn't quite shake me off," he smirked, hands casually tucked into his pockets as he gradually moved closer to her. He didn't mind being close to her, in fact, he welcomed it. As long as his hands remained in his pockets, he knew he was good. "Ah, yes. I believe she's busy speaking with some potential clients of hers, and I wouldn't want to interrupt. Why? Is my presence bothering you?"

"Angel's doing okay." She didn't want to make him worried for her, but she was definitely doing better than Kit probably thought she was. But, it was clear as anything that Angel cared more about Kit more than just some guy who she was seeing. "How are you, though? You're who I'm worried about more than anything, you know." Atta gave his arm a poke and her brow a raise.

When Kit entered the venue, a blonde stranger on his arm and his eyes a little jaded from the champagne he'd consumed earlier, Dot called out to him, wrapping him in a hug as he arrived. He chuckled slightly, returning the embrace to the girl he treated like his own sister. "Where's Atta?" he asked, and Dot pointed in Atta's direction. Kit wasted no time in making his way toward his friend, opening his arms for a welcoming hug. "Atta," he grinned, a slight flush on his face but a genuine smile for the first time in a while. "I missed you. Are you with your husband?" he teased lightly. "Isn't it funny that the last engagement party I attended was yours, and with a different man?" Kit's words slipped out nonchalantly, a bit drunk, but well-intentioned as he hoped to elicit a laugh from her. Before forgetting, Kit introduced his new date to his friend. "Oh, by the way, this is Angelique," he said, though he couldn't recall her last name. Kit excused himself from his companion, eager to spend some alone time with his friend instead.

Moving a little away from the crowd, he began, placing his hands on both of Atta's cheeks. "Atta, my dear, I have something important to tell you," he said softly. "Hopper is making arrangements to see me, so I have to ask. Are you ready to take back what's yours?" Kit knew it wasn't exactly the right moment to discuss business, but he felt it was important to share this important information.

Angel wasn't even supposed to be there, regretting not staying home from the second he walked in the door. Maybe she should've made an excuse to Buster that she hadn't felt well or didn't have a dress but he'd read through any of her lies. Besides, if anything happened and she had gotten away with playing hooky she'd never forgive herself. She had a job to do and that's the only reason she was there. Kit walking through the door shouldn't have come as a surprise as a man with his status but a part of her sank when he did. Nor was he alone, sporting another blonde on his arm that hadn't been the one she figured he was off galavanting with. In fact, Ella was nowhere to be found and she'd been replaced by an unfamiliar face.

The surprise appearance from her lost love had only complicated an evening she'd barely wanted to participate in. She'd been doing her best to get back to her old life but nothing was filling the space he'd left. At least the alcohol was free which was why she had returned to the bar for another whiskey sour to drink as she glared over the rim at Kit's date whenever she crossed her eye line. There was still a job she was supposed to be doing which meant Angel still kept close enough to Buster and the Dreyfuses to make sure they had no surprises. In all honesty, she'd lost track of her friend when she went to the bar to refill her drink and found her again talking to the very person who occupied all of her thoughts as of late. The blonde kept her eyes down and jumped back into the conversation she left off with Buster.

She hadn't wanted him to catch her eyes, knowing if he did that she might not be able to let it go. Buster and Atta departing together had left her vulnerable to his gaze and she fought its urge to reel her in. It was inevitable, her feet moving before she'd even realized it and by then it was too late to turn back. "Since when do you speak French?" Angel said sourly once she got into earshot. "What's her name? Baguette?" The blonde came to a halt in front of him with her lips pursed and her tone hiding the hurt beneath her words. Angel didn't want him to know how much it had affected her or the hole he left that she'd been unable to fill.

He paused for a moment, biting his lip. He wanted this charade to end. He hadn't signed up for anything serious with Angel, and yet he found himself unable to be himself without her. It was an odd paradox he hoped to get rid of. "And you, are you enjoying yourself?" he asked, leaning a little closer to hear her response.