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Whatever vision or premnotion that his grandmother has had for Nat and Minho was still a mystery to the young man. Of course he had followed her guide eventually, hoping to make her rest in peace knowing he was exactly where she hoped him to be. Even if once again it limited him in his freedom like it had in his childhood. But this time he was older, deemed it worth it as long as he was convinced that it would have her heart at ease. So there he was opening up to a man who seemed rather cold, a bit of the opposite to him in every possible way. Even their believe systems, possibly. "You were worried about being single for that long? With that handsome face?" Somehow that was surprising, sure he did not know too much or anything deep about Minho but.. "It appeared to me that your research is your whole world, no matter what anyone else thinks." Leaned over his expression eased further, a hint of playful flirting just to warm the atmosphere between them a tad. "A trip would be wonderful, but maybe before we officiate. I would love to get to know my husband to be. More than what I can read in scientific papers. What do you enjoy outside of work?"

nat's flattery moved minho's lips into a small grin that stayed when the question was posed about himself. "you're very astute," he admitted. "my work... takes up most of my time." his gaze skated elsewhere in a moment of hesitation, down to where his hand rested on his pant leg. minho's comfort zone starts and ends at his scientific papers, and he preferred to allow them to speak for him. they were the best of his efforts, the culmination of years presented in a neat conclusion, and, had this been any other relationship, minho would have felt keen to maintain the facade. to draw an illusion that told of someone with a better work-life balance. someone who didn't sacrifice so much in the name of progress. the lie rested on his lips, but never left them. it was hard to lie to nat. a charming disposition and playful brown eyes unwound his guard enough to choose the truth. "in the rare moments i'm not in the lab, i try to do something that keeps my body moving–golfing, lifting weights, woodworking..." he chuckled lightly, almost apologetic. "i wish i could tell you something more interesting, but i've never been great with creature comforts. my mind wanders too often to enjoy them." minho's eyes shifted back up. something that lived between curiosity and confusion flickered in them. "i have a feeling learning about you will be far more interesting. you're personable and attractive. unless you have some secret unsavory hobby that sends men running, i find it hard to believe you'd need an arrangement like this." part compliment, part prying. "what's your story?"

Chapter 163

"w-well, it's not really a problem, no." sumire wedged her plump bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling nervously. "it's just... we haven't put a label on what we are yet." this was particularly awkward to admit to someone that might be her new superior. "it's whatever, really. they're one of my emergency contacts, so-" she scribbled down their full name and number in one of the slots, second only to her parents, and listed them as her partner. "is there anything else you need from me?"

her heart threatens to burst from her chest as she pulls at the gates ⏤ does not need to turn to know that her step-mother's gaze is boring into her back. posthaste. she inhales sharply and takes that first step beyond the wall and every step thereafter feels as though she is walking on a cloud. there is no fear where it should be that she does not know where she is traveling. follow the road the only instructions the old woman seemed willing to part with. but the fear does come when she is met by a fork in the road and she must make a choice. and choose she does, carrying on with each step feeling heavier than the last. fear hammers away in her chest so she walks faster and faster until she's nearing a sprint, skidding to a halt with a cry as she rounds a bend and is face to face with a horse. clementine trips in her efforts to give the animal a wide berth, landing sharply on her bottom. "you gave me a fright," brows furrowed, she stands, dusts herself off.

vittoria allengard should have wed three years ago.  suitors vying for her hand seemed to come as often as spring rain. many from distant lands she’d only seen carved on her father’s globe. men of steel swords and grit, boasting impressive armies stationed in unforgiving mountains. others had fertile lands favored by the lord, whose citizens had never experienced a day of starvation in the last century. some were the offspring of ruin, offering undying devotion from a spouse unspoiled by a silver spoon.  each and every offer, no matter how perfectly adequate, was turned away at the behest of her mother. favoring tongues of the court spun vittoria's prudence as the high standards of a princess hailing from an impeccable lineage. a signal of her virtue and not a symptom of anything less. vittoria knew this narrative wouldn't fare much longer. the ever-shifting tides brought scrutiny and an increasingly limited amount of grace for the princess keen to oust tradition at every turn.  she found herself retreating beyond the allengard castle for reprieve. stealing her father’s new prize, a clydesdale the color of obsidian with a temper as large as its body, and stalking out far beyond the castle’s bounds. away from the whispers, away from the prying eyes, where she could wear the cloak of anonymity. holding normalcy for no longer than an afternoon.  a routine interrupted by an unexpected body crossing their path. the stallion jerks back harshly, coming up to rear as he neighs at the wide-eyed woman below. it takes a few stern jerks of the reins, a couple of pleading coos, before the horse settles. vittoria turns her attention from calming her horse to the stranger. no malice or anger taints her countenance. if there is any blame to be had, it is her own. racing down a shared path was rather reckless, after all.  the unsaid apology softens her eyes, but is obscured by the shadow cast by her large burgundy hood. "as you gave my steed," she responds simply, more amused than critical. vittoria reviews her state of dress–the empty basket and coin purse clutched tight–and comes to her own conclusion. "you’re going to the market, i presume? it’s quite the journey on foot, and this weather can be… inconsistent, at best. allow me to take you there,” the horse huffs. vittoria smiles like she expected it. “he is not as indignant as he appears.”

"hey, just because you like to blame me for every single time your car disagrees with you, it does not mean that i cheated," yongliang grins at the other man, smirk playing on his lips. he enjoys messing with him, especially when he always reacts so loudly. "and that one time i ordered etsy witch to mess with you does not actually count. you won the race anyway. could have bought myself something else instead," he sighs. so much for trusting someone on the internet.

disbelief left nari blinking. "you... what?" suddenly every stubbed toe and popped tire over the past two weeks held new meaning. "i didn't take you as the type to mess around with that nonsense, but i guess desperate times call for desperate measures." nari leans forward, teasing glint in his eye. "and you'd know about being desperate, wouldn't you?"

HIS HEAD WAS SPINNING ⏤ and maybe this was part of what their troubles had always boiled down to. the words and actions never quite lining up. "then why defend her in there?" it makes no sense. "because now i look crazy, and she thinks you're on her side, and she's going to keep treating our son like shit." and he doesn't care anymore. doesn't care if people see or hear because he's tired of dancing around everything, tired of not being able to just talk about it. "our problems do not give her the right to treat him that way," nish shot back, "when have you ever treated any of your students like that?" because he was willing to bet never. because james wasn't cruel and was certainly able to see the difference between lack of effort and something more. "can we at least agree that it's time to find someone for him to talk to?"

the accusation layered beneath nishad’s words wasn’t lost on him. biting heat rose up the back of his neck, leaving him shifting uncomfortably in his dress shoes. "i wasn't defending her,” he insisted, leaning forward slightly as if it would help contain their intense voices from others. still too conscious of the optics of their situation. “i just wasn’t eager to attack someone that i know has limited resources to deal with these sorts of things–and it wouldn’t benefit our son if both of us piled on her. we should have had a constructive conversation like adults,” he sighed, and with it left some of the intensity he had. “i- yes. yes, i think we should find someone for him to talk to, but the problem starts with us. we need to fix..." he motioned to the two of them, to their hostile stance, to the way they could barely hide the disdain for one another long enough to uphold appearances. "this."

DAMI ROLLED HIS EYES BUT SMILED ALL THE SAME, shaking his head. but he had raina knew each other well enough where it was expected. "you're really not pulling any punches today, huh?" he chuckled softly, turning his attention back to their dinner. both of his parents had always loved to cook, and they loved to pass their knowledge on to dami ⏤ but he hadn't really learned until he started taking on more responsibility. "my brother used to love when i made this, i don't know if he actually still likes it, though," her comments aren't unnoticed ⏤ he just doesn't want to pry, "don't let the mess fool you, it's pretty easy to make." he slid both pans into the oven and washed his hands, glancing back over at her with a grin, "i don't know what you're talking about, nothing embarrassing about me. but i could go for a glass."

"trust, you'd prefer me to stay honest, dear dami. it's what makes our friendship so special." a curling smile came like a cat's would, sly and a little too excited to present the type of booze that could turn this mundane evening into an exciting one. she skipped off to retrieve it from her bedroom, tucked amongst her designer clothes and heels, and quickly returned to pour two glasses. one for each of them. she took the lighter option while passing him the other. "let's see what totally not embarrassing thing transpires tonight, yes?"

nari finally looked up to catch sunny’s pout. “liar,” playfulness guided his lilt. he leaned back precariously in his seat, bringing his arms to rest behind his head. “it's not obsessing- it's figuring out what mods i need so i don't fuck up again...” many of which, he realized, were illegal for a reason. “besides, aren't you on a winning streak right now? please spare me the sage advice."

“ when you say that again. make sure you actually have control or it's just embarassing. ”

“so... looking out for you makes me a villain now? control isn't a bad thing if the reins are in the right hands. just see it as me making your life easier."

yaretzi watched jisoo, her brow creasing as she went into deep thought. she and jisoo had always been close, always shared a lot of things. now, she never thought about sharing her boyfriend, ex or not, but she supposed she shouldn't be so harsh. it's not like they were together when he and jisoo slept together, so she couldn't be that angry about it....right? "no..you're right." she said finally, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "we aren't together anymore so I can't be upset that he sleeps around, I guess it just hurt that it was you of all people that he decided he was going to sleep with." she uncrossed her arms, shaking her head as she smiled a small smile. "I was just mad that it was you."

"i mean, i get it. i guess i'd be pretty pissed if you fucked my leftovers, too." the thought twisted her stomach into knots. she couldn't care less if an ex hooked up with any of her other friends, but what went on in yaretzi's bed occupied her thoughts far more than she could ever justify. no amount of spun tales on her silver tongue could distract from what lay beneath her intentions. jisoo crossed her arms, bejeweled acrylics tapping on her skin. she shifted her weight from one leg to the other while her gaze flitted elsewhere. "what do you want me to do? do you want me to apologize? 'cause you know i'm not really good at that..."

a laugh sounded from bolin’s chest, warm and resonant. it was just his luck that he'd stumble into the presence of someone with a checkered past. at least yize was willing to admit it, which was more than could be said about himself. bolin tuts, “well, i've never met a hardened criminal so... honest." his gaze shifts back to the other, brown eyes lively. there's a comfort to be found here, as strange as that was. the solace that could only come with knowing you've found another who's held violence like a shield. other students from his university were all normal. stable. their sole concern was whether they could afford the latest phone model and concert tickets. many had families with names on buildings and donors for swanky galas. their issues made for riveting yet palpable college entry letters, leaving their struggles as a footnote along the margins. while bolin's never quite left. "eh, she's not my type." yize's accusation was right, though bolin had never given her more than basic friendliness. "don't feel too guilty. i can smooth things over with her later...” bolin gently pressed the chilly tea bottle to yize's cheek, where a bruise was beginning to bloom. "what'd you do to get locked up, anyways? and don't lie, or it'll be awkward when i look you up later and call your bluff."