A piece of the Mafia AU ;)
The shallow cup didn’t waver in the slightest as the warm, clear liquid slid into it. The pour was graceful, practiced, perfect. The man’s head remained respectfully bowed at just the right angle.
“So now you choose to play the part,” Ultear murmured, less refined than she should be for the occasion. It had been a long day, and Jellal’s sudden obedience did little to ease her worries. In fact, it added to them.
Jellal was only contrite when he wanted something.
“Forgive me... boss.” The hesitation was telling. Wavering, he wasn’t sure if he should approach the subject as a subordinate or a brother.
She waved a dismissive hand in an exhausted gesture, slouching a bit more and tipping the warm sake back with a hearty motion that was too quick, too eager for the liquor. Rim lingering on her lips a bit too long, she took the cup down and reluctantly handed what was left to him, eyeing the bottle.
That poor fool. There was no reason to add to his torment.
“We’re alone now, and it’s the middle of the night... brother.” It was a term that had never quite flowed, but now it seemed awkward, stilted, falling from her lips heavily. Shaking her head ruefully, she corrected, “Jellal.”
His lips quirked at the correction, drinking the rest of the sake, then reaching to pour them each their own cup. Handing hers over first, he settled across the small table, a serious expression on his face.
A knife appeared next, glinting in the low light. It sat between them, polished and sharp. Neither looked at it as they finished the bottle and spoke of things other than business. It was a brief conversation that felt like forever.
Jellal set down the cup deliberately, scooping up the knife with an effortless gesture. He held it at the ready, a master at that task at hand, waiting for the word. The edge rested against the skin steadily, his gaze on her face.
Her face, she hoped, was impassive.
He should lose a finger joint for his stunt, to show the organization even her right hand man wasn’t free from consequences. It would undermine her authority if he remained consequence-free. And worse yet, he would be emboldened to do it again, although she hadn’t worked out his angle, acting like a witless high school boy with a crush.
The man had already been pushing the boundaries, testing her control, flaunting an illusion of power as he clawed his way up the political ladder. He seemed to forget, as young, hot-headed, arrogant men did, that the family came first. Always. It was a lesson he hadn’t seemed to have learned yet, and Ultear cursed Hades for leaving it in her hands to teach it.
Siegrain needed to be cut down to size... but not tonight.
“Put that away, you stupid man. What kind of politician is missing a finger?”
He didn’t move a muscle, the knife still poised. But no blood was drawn, not yet, not until she gave the word.
“Don’t take this as a kindness,” she warned, hoping the words didn’t ring as false as they sounded to her ears. Truly, she should take more than a finger for his mortifying behavior at what should’ve been somber funeral of a respected elder. “There are consequences, and ones you may like less than losing a pinky.”
Smoothly, the knife vanished, the right words spoken to break the tense spell between them. After all, no one expected kindness from her, and that was the way she intended to keep it.
His bow was deep enough for sincerity, no trace of his usual mocking smirk or arrogant flushing.
Fool, stupid fool, she thought. It wasn’t clear if she meant Jellal... or herself.
