#mutual vulnerability

“You’re an amateur at this, you know,” Aventurine teased, his voice hoarse but laced with his usual wit. Despite his own flushed cheeks and drooping posture, he gestured grandly, a half-empty cup of tea in one hand. “This is why I warned you about staying too close to me when I was under the weather.”

“You were the one who wouldn’t stop bragging about your ‘impenetrable immunity,’” you shot back, sniffling.

He laughed, though it turned into a hacking cough. Aventurine’s usual flamboyance was muted by the cold, but his sharp eyes still held a spark of mischief.

“Well,” he rasped, leaning back dramatically, “if we’re both doomed to misery, we may as well make the most of it. Cards, perhaps? Or do you prefer a rousing debate about my unparalleled brilliance?”

You rolled your eyes but found yourself smiling despite your exhaustion. In this vulnerable moment, Aventurine’s charm wasn’t just an act—it was his way of making you forget the heaviness of your shared misery.

The room was unnaturally quiet, save for the occasional sound of Sunday stirring a cup of herbal tea. Both of you sat in the dimly lit chamber, his halo casting a soft glow.

“Rest,” Sunday murmured, his voice gentle but insistent as he handed you the tea. His usually immaculate appearance was slightly disheveled—his scarf hung loose, and his golden eyes seemed dimmer. Yet, even in sickness, he radiated calm.

You sipped the tea, grateful for its warmth, though your own fever made it hard to feel much else. “You’re one to talk,” you replied weakly, gesturing at his pale complexion. “You should be resting too.”

“I will,” he assured, though his actions betrayed him as he began fluffing your pillows. “Your health is more important.”

The care in his actions made your heart ache in a way no illness could. Despite his own state, Sunday couldn’t seem to stop prioritizing you.

“You’re stubborn,” you said, lying back against the pillows with a small smile.

“And you’re in no position to argue,” he countered, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles before he settled into the chair beside you. “Let’s both rest now.”

The room was a mess—half-empty cups, discarded tissues, and an overturned bottle of cough syrup bore witness to Sampo’s less-than-stellar sickbed manner.

“See? Told you we’d be in this together,” Sampo said with a grin, his voice raspy but still filled with his signature charm. He leaned against the headboard of the bed you now shared, a blanket draped haphazardly over his lap.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” you muttered, glaring at him from your cocoon of blankets.

“Oh, come on,” he said, reaching over to nudge you lightly. “It’s not so bad. At least now you have me to keep you entertained.”

“Entertained? You’ve done nothing but complain about the soup I made!”

He chuckled, though it quickly turned into a coughing fit. “Hey, I’m just saying, next time we’re sick, I’ll make the soup. I’ve got this great recipe—secret family tradition, you know.”

You groaned, but a reluctant smile tugged at your lips. Sampo, even at his most annoying, had a way of making the worst situations bearable.

The Astral Express was unusually still, the usual hum of activity replaced by the sound of sneezes and groans. Dan Heng sat cross-legged on the floor beside the bed, his spear leaning against the wall for easy access even in his weakened state.

“You should be lying down,” you said, your voice scratchy as you shifted under the covers.

Dan Heng shook his head, his quiet determination as unyielding as ever. “You need the bed more than I do,” he replied, though his pale complexion and tired eyes betrayed his stubbornness.

“Dan Heng,” you said softly, “you’re not going to be much help to anyone if you don’t rest.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to yours. With a reluctant sigh, he leaned back against the wall, finally allowing himself a moment of reprieve.

“I just don’t like being… useless,” he admitted quietly, his stoicism cracking just enough to reveal a flicker of vulnerability.

“You’re not useless,” you assured him, reaching out to brush his hand lightly. “You’re here. That’s enough.”

Dan Heng’s lips curved into a faint smile, and for the first time since the sickness had struck, the weight between you both felt a little lighter.

Whether you choose to window-shop, or waltz towards an article of clothing that tickles your fancy, you're a subject left in the hands of the general public. Your eyes drift for a second too long towards their product; and you'll have somebody invite you in, warm smiles used to hold rapport.

"Jewelry, wristwatches, handbags, and haute couture… You can find the most high-end and opulent merchandise in Penacony here!" You'll face salesmen and their attempts to manipulate you, coarse you into purchasing something you know you don't need; far out of your budget. Populated streets make it a competition between rivaling stores to pick up more possible customers, "▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇!" "▇▇▇▇▇▇▇!"

The best you can do is drown it out, or choose against this and ultimately lose yourself in the industry's tactics to lure you in. Ever heard the phrase "More fish in the sea"? Well, this is not a phrase used for romance alone, oh no. You're undoubtedly the fish within these bustling streets, as each store extends their reach to hook you in.

Some, however, know how to play around their theatrics' like an expert.

"Penacony appears never to dwindle, that is for certain." Voice written in velvet, a young woman combs a hand through her hair with an exasperated sigh. Brunette strands side-swept temporarily, only to begin falling back in place. Reluctantly tearing her eyes away from a window with the glamorous assortment of garments, she is met with a familiar face.

“Neither does your beauty, dear friend~”

Eyes don't lie Eyes don't lie Say you're mine Eyes don't lie

"...Aventurine?" Her ocean eyes would narrow, soaking in his appearance. Lips parting to speak once more, "-I thought you mentioned some form of important business left you with little free time? Have I remembered incorrectly?"

Aventurine, a member of the Interastral Peace Corporation; IPC for short. His title holds weight like no other, especially after the events he played a hand in towards the present of Penacony. A member of the Ten Stonehearts. A handsome face renowned for his luck, willing to bet everything on a mere chip.

"Ah yes, I did say something along those lines." He'd hum in agreement, eyes reading hers before pulling himself back up to his usual stature, no longer level with the lady. "-So, Shadow. What brings a woman such as yourself to these streets? Has the express chosen a new destination? Found trouble within this dreamscape once again?"

"Pssh. Nothing of that sort," Shadow would roll her eyes, playfully swatting the air as if to reprimand him. His eyes focus solely on her, taking note of the wallet grasped in her hand. Pressing it inside a purse she'd thrown over her shoulder casually. "We came at someone's request-"

"-Shadow!!" A chipper voice would suddenly shout, drawing the attention of both Aventurine and Shadow. Coming into view would be a pair of women, one with a bright expression and pink hair, while the other wore a color palette resembling the rising sun. Expression is only described as exhaustion, tension written in the way she is dragged along by their friend. An arm outstretched, stumbling over her own feet which drag on the ground. "-Aventurine? Are you both..?"

The energetic lady would let go of her companion's hand and lift the same limb dramatically to her brow as if scouting the couple closely. Unsure whether she has interrupted something or not.

"My oh my, is the entire crew here? Long time no see, Friends!" Aventurine would speak, his gaze deciphering what may be the reason for their return to Penacony. "-Stella, you've certainly seen better days... I take it March convinced you to tag along?"

Strelitzia, a fellow member of the Astral Express crew. Little was known of her or her species, besides her vague similarities to the Halovians. A pair of small, fascinating wings would twitch on top of her head, lifting her gaze towards Aventurine, only for him to receive an intense stare. One filled with emotion, far too much depth to decipher in a single glance. Her eyes resemble his own in color, falling narrow, void of any sort of light despite their surroundings.

"-Stella found interest in a conversation you had over text with the Trailblazer." A voice chimed in, his head turning towards Shadow who stood tall by his side. He'd notice her eyes stuck on the lady they were casting the spotlight on. "Which led to our return. There was mention of..?-"

"...' Night Diamond'" Stella whispers, crossing her arms in discomfort. Her wings are unable to remain still, fluttering up and down impatiently, casting a shadow on her face with each subtle movement. "...Gloves."

Aventurine's lips would tug into a smug smile, pulling out his phone to scroll through his messages. Finding the exact text Strelitzia would've been interested in, "This?" The man hands the phone to Strelitzia. Her hands cautiously took the mobile device from his grasp, unfamiliar with such a luxurious casing. Looking towards Shadow who wore a warm expression, encouraging her to speak further with Aventurine.

'Take, for another example, these "Night Diamond" series gloves, the last masterpiece by the deceased design master Van Jagh. They're handcrafted and limited to ninety pairs galaxy-wide, perfect for parties and special occasions.'

"...Yeah." Strelitzia would hand the phone back towards Aventurine, pointing towards the exact message in reference. Reeling back as their hands brush against each other. Keeping to herself once again, responding to him with small glances rather than making use of her voice.

Shadow feels a free arm snake around her waist out of the blue, pulling her close to Aventurine's side, leaving little proximity between the two. Wishing to include her, and gain somebody else's insight, the gambler began turning his phone towards her, allowing a clear view of the texts. Gaining the attention of both March and Strelitzia with his hands-on approach with Shadow, keeping their lips shut.

…Until March noticed him lean his head against Shadow, their blonde and brunette hair tangled together.

"-Are you two a thing?" March would blurt, shocked by her revelation. Tilting her head in curiosity, she'd murmur for Strelitzia to hear. "...Did you know of this and not tell me?"

Strelitzia shakes her head with a pair of furrowed brows, confused by such an accusation. Unable to speak, she'd felt March take hold of her hand once more, grinning widely. "Well, I think these two need time on their own. We'll find those gloves on our own, kay? Catch you both later!"

Unable to argue, Strelitzia's wings would lay flat on her head like a saddened puppy. Turning to watch Aventurine and Shadow as she reluctantly retreats with March, disappointed their interaction with Shadow ended so abruptly.

"Well, anyway..." A sultry voice cuts through the silence between him and Shadow, Aventurine's arm loosening around the woman's waist as some passersby look at their public display of affection. "...where were we? aah, right." He'd confirm something within himself, admiring the casual appearance Shadow wore during her time out.

Can't lie to you, baby Wanna feel your body close You say that you hate me But tell me shit nobody knows

"Do we genuinely look like that in their eyes?" Shadow spoke out loud, left in shock at the idea of her friend implying such an idea. Shifting outside of Aventurine's hold, and stepping back for room to breathe.

Truthfully, Shadow knew she had been pinning for Aventurine long before March brought up such an accusation. Choosing to ignore it due to their past circumstance... but such proximity made it hard to avoid. Thoughts drifting to the idea of his feelings.

What could she possibly make of his poker face? The emotions he shields from the naked eye?

Led on for years, creating a distance, only to be in his embrace once again.

She felt her heartache, the longer her heart wished to peruse him through reconciliation.

"How about this, mh? Allow me to be your companion tonight—won't you, Shadow? I know all the best locations. Anything you seek, ask, and you shall receive~" Not minding March's behavior, he decides to lean into it. Moving on from the subject immediately, brushing over Shadow's question, leaving room for her to dwell on whether it was intentional or not.

He remains open-ended. A man left up to interpretation.

"You and I both know I can't afford any store you suggest-" Shadow clicks her tongue, arms crossed disapprovingly, finding his proposition blastomas. Hearing Aventurine release a hearty laugh.

"Ah ah ah, humor me, won't you? Plus, as I said, Tab's on me-"

"-You never said that"

Shadow's gaze would narrow, reading into his every breath. Softening as his eyes met hers, losing what little resolve she had inside. She'd turn her head aside, neither accepting him outright nor rejecting the proposal.

"Now I have," Aventurine smiles, one fueled by his irresistible charm—but she knew better. That smile never reached his eyes.

He'd lift her head with a single finger beneath her chin, guiding her to look at him once again without a motion of his own, giving her that freedom to refuse or turn. "Tab's on me, I insist." Her walls crumble.

"Right, right. Lead the way, Handsome."

"Handsome?"

He’d let out a weary exhale, not realizing it was held for an extended period, attempting to brush this interaction off.

A single word from her.

Tension unearthed from his heart, struggling to accept such praise from somebody genuine. Lips thinning, he'd force an uncomfortable smile. Coward, he thought.

"C'mon, the sooner we find those gloves the better. For Stella's sake."

Right, for their friend's sake.

He was foolish to believe this could be a moment in time—shared for just the two of them. Lowering his hand in defeat, he'd be caught off guard when Shadow takes the lead by capturing his hand before it falls, turning to walk forward with him in her wake. Fingers intertwining.

The sound of music, idle chatter, and cheers cease to exist. His heart beat uncontrollably with each step.

“…”

Aventurine’s smile fell, far too exhausted to continue once she'd turned away from him, preoccupied with her thoughts.

Pathetic.

His expression morphed solemn, holding himself together barely. Thankfully she was unaware of his turmoil, or, refused to acknowledge it. He felt utterly pathetic, his tongue tied—Left to admire her from behind, out of sight. Just how it should’ve always been.

How could he possibly deserve her? How could he protect her in this chaotic realm? Perhaps, in another life...

Shadow's hand tightens, lending him a warm squeeze in silence. His hands trembling the entire walk, clutching onto her in their brief time alone. Appreciating her willingness to play as his anchor.

They've been here before.

Yeah, you're beautiful, don't have to try Darlin', you look divine

"You'd look beautiful in this, though, ...beautiful may be an understatement." Aventurine unhooked a revealing dress from its rack, whistling and holding it in front of him. Envisioning Shadow fits snuggly in it's fabric. "-Shadow?"

"We're here for Stella." Shadow reminds Aventurine adamantly, the warm lighting of the store complimenting her body deliciously. She couldn't help but fidget, shifting weight from one leg to the other anxiously, aware of how Aventurine seemed to devour her in a single glance.

"Come now, you couldn't possibly be this against treating yourself."

"I'm not-" Shadow attempts to argue, listening to Aventurine as he raises a brow at her futile retorts. Making it clear who's in control of their predicament,

"Well, then try this on for me." His expression was written smugly, already aware of who would come out the victor. "-Shouldn't be an issue if you aren't against a little treat for the both of us?"

"What? That's not what I said-" Shadow grows frustrated, a dust of pink adorning her cheeks as her inevitable defeat approaches. Wishing to clean that smirk off the blond's face.

"Please?" Aventurine silences her, kneeling in front of her, holding the dress in his hands neatly. Lifting it towards her as a servant would for their queen, "Wouldn't you be so generous as to allow me first class witness of your absolute divinity." He winks.

"...Kakavasha! People are watching-!" Shadow's thoughts race, feeling the eyes of those around them bore into their figures. His theatrics garnered unwanted attention. Growing embarrassed, she lost her composure, voice escaping her; referring him to be somebody he was no longer before she could restrain herself.

"Let them." He shrugged nonchalantly, anticipating her response to his request. The eye's not once wavering, not once straying from his desire.

If his old identity escaping her lips bothered him, he didn't show any sign of it.

"You're insufferable," Shadow murmured, accepting her defeat as she took the dress from his hands. Holding it against her chest, the satin seamlessly drapes over her arm. Its material is cool to the touch.

"I know." Aventurine smiles, taking her criticism without complaint. Leading her to feel regret, she readied herself to apologize, only to leave it alone at the sight of him. He seemed content.

And so, she made her way to the changing room. Felt his eyes trained on her the entire way.

Eyes don't lie Eyes don't lie Say you're mine Eyes don't lie

Shadow slides the curtain in a swift motion, exposing herself and the changing room's interior, the sound of a whistle immediately meeting her ears.

"Well, If it isn't the most attractive woman in the entirety of Penacony," he'd wear a shit-eating grin. Approaching her with his usual strut, his hands slipped into her own, "I'd bet my last chip on that, sweet beacon of light." The man whispers against her ear, guiding her towards the closest mirror.

Shadow couldn't help but clench the fabric of her dress, eyes averted in an attempt to glimpse at the man behind her. Felt a hand trail from her hip, up her torso, and towards her cheek; careful to avoid anywhere she might be uncomfortable with him grazing. Guiding her to face the mirror,

"I'd argue you're the most attractive, not I." Shadow smiled tenderly, too busy looking at his reflection to admire her dress. Losing herself in his presence.

"Haha, say that once you quit ogling over me and focus those pretty eyes on yourself." He'd nudge her to look towards the mirror, nodding his head with that same confident grin. "-stunning."

His voice held a tinge of warmth, his breath brushing against the shell of her ear. Causing the woman to blush faintly, listening to his every word, not noticing the smile of her own until he playfully reached to squish her cheeks.

"Aventurine."

"Yes?"

Then followed silence, her eyes admiring the view of them in the mirror. He looked... happy. Whether it was an illusion or not, she wished to stay here permanently.

Aventurine's expression is confident, while hers is relaxed. One hand of his is enough to cup beneath her chin, pressing her cheeks together between her finger and thumb. Leaving her with a kissy face; her brows furrowed. This seems to further entertain him.

Aventurine's free hand caressed her hip, exposed by the dress's open window teasing beneath the material, skin hidden from sight. The dress itself is quite snug, complimenting the young woman's figure. A simple appeal, raven colors with a few feather-like designs on the very bottom of the mermaid flounced dress.

"What are we?"

Shadow's voice escaped her, sounding significantly more vulnerable than she anticipated.

You tell me your secrets You keep your life between your lips You know you're my weakness Tell stories with your fingertips

"What are we not?" He chuckled dismissively, unbefitting of his true character.

Aventurine wouldn't lend her a direct answer, again. What did she expect? She could sense his hesitant nature, always playing so cautious with her... her heart ached in uncertainty.

"Give me an answer, Aventurine." Her eyes narrow, refusing to play along with this game of his any further. She needs an answer. Enough hints, enough of whatever role they play in this game.

"I'm uncertain," His words came without deceit, his hands making their way to both settle on her hips, a cheek pressed against the top of her head. Hiding his expression. "I... need time to understand what the answer you deserve is."

"Aventurine, I don't want the answer you believe I want. I need your honesty-"

"-I don't know, Shadow. I don't understand what we are; I don't know." His grip tightens, almost enough to bruise. She wasn't phased, growing further concerned.

Shadow hesitates to push him any further, choosing to combat her inner turmoil in silence. She knew Aventurine better than anyone, or she believed she did, and trusted his word. Lifting an arm, Aventurine felt her fingers scratch at his scalp, soothing his weary soul.

"I don't know." He'd murmur again, feeling his composure slip away.

"Shh... It's okay." Shadow whispers, warm and comforting. "We'll be okay."

She'd recognize her own saddened smile in the mirror, observing Aventurine's stillness in quiet acceptance. Satisfied that he hasn't pulled away from her touch. Fingers tangled in his luxurious hair.

Aventurine wouldn't speak, his hands loosening to caress her skin tenderly, grounding himself. His every intention is to remind her that she's more the a shadow. She's a beacon of light in his life.

No matter how stunning she may be, in her eyes, nothing is equal to his natural appeal. Admiring him so long as he allows. The scent of his cologne rubbed off on her, her eyes shut, and the world around them drowned out.

Yeah, you're beautiful, don't have to try Darlin', you look divine

"Are you sure? This is far too expensive," Shadow said, uncertain, her brows furrowed. Staring at the dress slung over an arm, "there's no guarantee I'll wear it often..."

"Trust me, this hardly leaves a scratch on my account. Allow me to treat you tonight." Aventurine laughs, leaving Shadow no room to argue further; his hand encasing hers while they walk. "Plus, it was basically made for you, wouldn't you agree?"

They've been seeking the "Night Diamond" series gloves for longer than expected, her mind undergoing suspicion. Shadow felt as though Aventurine had been playing dumb throughout their time together. Refusing to call him out, she found herself enjoying his attempts to lengthen their time together.

Aventurine takes notice of Shadow's eyes as searches relentlessly, lingering on a dress similar to the one already draped over her arm, however, it matches his signature aesthetic rather than her own... quick to avert her gaze.

"Aren't those the gloves?" Shadow lifts their hands to point towards the lone gloves behind glass, left safely in their showcase.

"Good eye, as expected of my most trusted partner." Aventurine never missed the opportunity to praise her over the most simple of feats. Smiling warmly, one significantly more genuine than his play on confidence earlier. Whether he was aware or not, she was left unaware.

Aventurine hesitantly lets go of Shadow's hand, "Stay here, I'll handle this. If you spot anything else during my absence, well... I wouldn't mind adding it to my card" He'd wink, making his way towards an employee, leaving Shadow behind momentarily.

She'd smile fondly, watching how he conversed with the employee. His charming grin was infectious, watching his gaze before she'd avert her gaze and act nonchalant.

Just as requested, she allows him to take over. Making her way towards a golden hairpiece, from it hung an untied, yellow ribbon. Reminding her of Stella, she'd feel the material slip between her fingers,

"You want this as well?" Aventurine's voice suddenly met her in a hot whisper, breath trickling down from her ear; causing her hair to rise on the back of her neck. "I never saw you as the type to wear such a bright color, y'know, given you claim to be a shadow and all." He'd tease, feeling her press a hand clasp against his mouth and ultimately silence him; a single brow raised in question while she felt his grin against her palm.

The man's eyes glint with intent, left unnoticed by Shadow.

"It's for Stella," She'd respond, looking towards him. "-if you insist on buying me the dress, and her gloves, I... would like to buy something for her myself." Shadow's gaze soon returned to the ribbon, her eyes refused to escape the hair accessory afterward, that was until she'd recoil, pulling her hand away from his face at the feeling of his tongue against her palm.

"I- I don't even know what to say to you." She'd stare at him dumbfoundedly, her nose scrunched in disgust while rubbing the saliva from her palm to the unfortunate fabric of her clothes.

He'd merely shrug with a proud smirk, eyes sharing an unrelenting glimmer; he'd spare her momentarily. He found a moment of pleasure in her disgust, wishing to rile her up further.

"You're so....-weird," Shadow stated quietly, arms crossed, she gripped the accessory between her fingers, listening to the beat of her heart in both ears. "Let's... pay for this all and meet with the others. I wish not to leave Stella waiting longer than necessary."

Aventurine's eyes glimmered like never before, whether it was the lighting in the store or the joy of the moment. She... couldn't erase the image of his gaze from her mind. Taking a peek at him, she notices it gone once more, frowning quietly. Their dynamic is still painted blue.

Eyes don't lie Eyes don't lie Say you're mine Eyes don't lie

"Aventurine! Shadow!" A loud voice breaks through the crowd's endless chatter outside the store, "Over here!!"

Many turn their heads, looking towards the young lady who laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of her head. Embarrassed at the unintentional attention she attracted. As Aventurine and Shadow reunite with March, they look around… noticing something strange.

"Where is Stella?" Shadow is the first to ask, concerned about her whereabouts.

"Don't tell me," He paused, "-you lost poor Stella in the crowd? Poor girl…" Aventurine lifts a hand to his cheek, heightening his theatrics. Receiving a pout in return by March, and a playful glare from Shadow.

"What?! Of course not!" March defends herself, "She saw Mr. Yang and ran off without a word, she doesn't usually handle these crowds well… but something tells me-"

"Sunday came with him?" Shadow adds, a knowing expression visible on her face.

"Bingo! Or… that's my guess at least. Ehe…" March giggles once again, not minding Strelitzia's sudden urgency to flee. Perhaps Strelitzia merely took up the opportunity to escape March's excitement while she had the chance. Shadow knew better.

"To think he'd show face in his unfinished symphony…" Aventurine hums to himself, wearing his signature grin. "Perhaps this is where we part ways, mh? Shadow?"

Would her answer matter? If she asked for him to stay, would he?

"Yeah." She'd take a deep breath, remaining composed. "We've got all we came for if not more…" Shadow thinks, "-I feel I haven't thanked you enough for this."

She'd lift the bag of luxury merchandise, peeking inside the bag that felt expensive on its own. She barely could afford that hairpiece for Stella, but, managed nonetheless. Would she regret it? Of course not.

I swear friends don't get this close Pull you in exchanging souls Trace my skin, losing control

"Pssh." Aventurine waved a hand, watching how March pivots on her foot, in search of any sign of their companions. Taking this as an opening, he'd step closer towards Shadow, "I have an idea as to how you could… repay me; if you're interested that is."

Shadow raised a brow, suspicious of his intentions that are left unclear. In response, Aventurine lightly tapped his cheek with his index and middle finger, face turned at an angle that still allowed his eyes to bore into her own. Expecting something, he'd allow Shadow to interpret this however she wishes.

"What?" Shadow inquired, her heart twinged between his clever fingertips. Left unsure whether she had missed any subtle cue on what he may desire.

After what felt like an eternity, Aventurine's laugh meets her unresponsive behavior, truly shaken by the idea of his implication.

"Well, you better catch up with March before she gets lost as well." Aventurine felt hesitant to leave, however, knew it was best for the both of them they separated once again. HIs chuckle unsettling, for her; knowing that it's full of falsehood.

"Wait." Shadow spoke up, refusing to accept his attempt to leave. No, it was far too soon.

"Miss me already?" Aventurine turned towards her, his breath escaping him as Shadow reached for his face suddenly. Hands clasping each cheek, she'd lean towards him, her body pressed against his chest. The bag of goods left at their feet.

"This is what you wanted isn't it..?" Shadow's voice lowers significantly, eyes peering into his with underlining resilience.

"Haha… not quite," Aventurine responds weakly, knowing full well it's close to what he previously bargained for.

"Then if I said I wanted this, would you reject my proposal?" Shadow asks, her breath leaving a warm tingle against his skin.

"…Shadow," Aventurine says, her eye's a window to the soul. He was afraid.

"Answer the question, for Aeon's sake." Shadow grew frustrated, Before the silence could break, he'd inch close towards her. Not minding the uninvited eyes, his arms wrap around her waist, lips crashing into her own with fervor. Desperate, both members take the waltz together after an entire day of tension.

"haha…" He'd pant, eyes half lidded; releasing Shadow reluctantly.

"Haha.. can't get enough of me can you?"

Shadow's hand grasped the window of his shirt, clutching it for support while leaning in for another. "You're more attractive with your lips sealed." In quiet acceptance, he'd lean into it once again, smiling tenderly. To hell with it all, if this is what she desires, who is he to neglect her further?

Eyes don't lie Eyes don't lie Say you're mine Eyes don't lie

Once this cycle meets an end, Shadow leans down to pick up her bag of contents. Meanwhile, Aventurine adjusts his clothes, smoothing them out as if nothing had happened. Taking care of each stay's hair, he'd treat her much the same.

"C'mon Doll, can't have you returning to your friends looking like this," Aventurine admits, admiring her tousled demeanor.

Shadow argues, "And who is responsible for my appearance?"

"You're more attractive with your lips sealed." Aventurine grins cheekily, pressing a finger against her lips momentarily.

Pulling away in due time, they'd bid their farewells.

Both she and he are left with more questions than answers, and neither would have it any other way. For once, content with a goodbye, knowing it won't be their last.

Eyes don't lie Eyes don't lie Say you're mine Eyes don't lie

Fin.

You and Hugo lay reclined across a curved, baroque loveseat. His arm rested around your shoulders, languid and possessive, while his other hand—gloved as always—picked up a glistening bon bon from a silver tray.

“You always choose the ones with the liquor inside,” you murmured, leaning into his side as your fingers idly traced the brocade pattern of his vest.

“I choose what’s decadent,” he replied smoothly, his voice a purr. “Besides, indulgence is the only proper rebellion in a world this cruel.”

He held the bon bon to your lips, eyes half-lidded and red as fresh blood under candlelight. You opened your mouth and accepted it with a quiet hum, the rich chocolate melting slowly on your tongue.

Hugo’s expression softened—just a little.

“You’re beautiful when you’re quiet like this,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. “No masks, no games. Just us. This is a rare pleasure.”

You reached for another bon bon, carefully selecting a fruit-filled one this time, and tilted it toward him.

“Then let me return the favor, my lord,” you teased, adopting an aristocratic tone as you fed it to him.

He chuckled, genuinely amused. “Careful, darling. Mocking me might become habit-forming.”

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips as he savored the taste. “You make it far too easy.”

For once, Hugo didn’t have a retort. He simply exhaled, long and content, and rested his forehead against yours. The world outside—full of politics, theft, and ghosts—could wait. Tonight, you were his only rebellion.

And he’d choose that sin every time.

The sun poured like honey through the HSO rooftop window, and Asaba was exactly where he liked to be when no one was breathing down his neck—curled up on the loveseat in the break lounge, legs draped over yours, head tilted against your shoulder.

In his lap rested a wooden tray of cut fruits—golden persimmons, cool grapes, and wedges of something tangy he’d “borrowed” from Section 3’s stash.

“You know,” you said as you peeled a grape and held it out, “for someone who claims to hate effort, you always manage to steal the best snacks.”

Harumasa smirked, eyes closed, the corner of his mouth twitching as he accepted the grape with a soft pop. “It’s not stealing. It’s resource optimization.”

“You’re a genius,” you teased, “but also a menace.”

“You love that about me,” he replied with the tiniest grin, one eye cracking open to meet yours.

You rolled your eyes, plucked a slice of persimmon, and nudged it toward him. He surprised you by gently taking your wrist and guiding it toward his mouth—never once breaking eye contact as he took the fruit.

Your breath hitched. It wasn’t the act itself, but the rare moment of undistracted affection behind it. There was nothing sarcastic in his gaze—only quiet gratitude and something warmer, deeper, unspoken.

He leaned into you more, the weight of him familiar and soft, like a cat in the sun. “We should do this more often,” he murmured, voice muffled into your shoulder. “Just… exist.”

You rested your cheek against his hair, fingers brushing lazy circles along his arm. “We can exist as much as you want.”

Silence stretched between you, comfortable and still, punctuated only by the occasional shared bite of fruit and his soft sighs of relief. You knew about his pain—his exhaustion—and you knew moments like these were rare victories.

And he let you be his peace.

A sigh escaped your lips as the glow of your home planet, so far away, weighed heavy on your heart. You missed the simple things: the scent of rain on your streets, the taste of your local delicacies, the way the sun dipped below familiar horizons. Being here, surrounded by decadence and strangers, only seemed to amplify your longing.

“You know,” Aventurine’s smooth, lilting voice broke the quiet, “I’ve seen a thousand starscapes, but there’s a certain sadness in how they all start to look the same.”

You glanced up to find him leaning casually against the doorway, his hair catching the moonlight. Dressed in his usual blend of ostentation and elegance, with his overcoat draped over his shoulders, Aventurine looked every bit the enigmatic gambler he was. But there was something in his expression tonight—something softer, quieter—that made you pause.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, strolling toward you. The faint scent of his cologne, something sharp yet sweet, lingered as he perched on the armrest of your chaise.

You shook your head. “Just… thinking.”

“Ah,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if reading between the lines. “Thinking about home, aren’t you?”

The knot in your chest tightened. “Yeah,” you admitted softly. “I miss it. Everything here is so… different.”

Aventurine tilted his head, his smile faint but warm. “Homesickness is a peculiar kind of ache, isn’t it? It’s not just missing a place—it’s missing a piece of yourself that only exists there.”

You blinked at him, surprised. “You get homesick?”

He chuckled, the sound low and wistful. “Sometimes. Though ‘home’ is a rather abstract concept for me. Sigonia wasn’t exactly a paradise.” His tone was light, almost dismissive, but his gaze drifted to the window, and you caught a flicker of something—pain, perhaps, or nostalgia.

“Still,” he continued, “there are moments I’d give anything to feel the desert wind on my face again. To hear my mother’s voice calling me in for supper or to watch my sister’s silly little dances under the sun. Even knowing I can’t go back, the memories… they stick with you, don’t they?”

You swallowed hard, the rawness of his words resonating deeply. “Yeah,” you murmured. “They do.”

Aventurine leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he studied you. “You know,” he said after a moment, “there’s a trick to homesickness.”

“Oh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned, a flash of his usual bravado returning. “You carry it with you. All the things you miss—the smells, the tastes, the sounds—you find ways to recreate them. Here, there, anywhere. You make your own little pockets of home, no matter how far you’ve wandered.”

Your lips quirked into a small smile. “That’s… surprisingly practical advice for someone like you.”

Aventurine placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Darling, I’ll have you know I’m full of wisdom—when the occasion calls for it.” His playful tone softened as he added, “Besides, I know what it’s like to feel untethered. And I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

His sincerity caught you off guard, and for a moment, the ache in your chest eased. “Thanks, Aventurine,” you said quietly.

He waved a hand dismissively. “Think nothing of it. Now, let’s make a deal.”

“A deal?” you echoed, narrowing your eyes.

He leaned closer, his grin widening. “I’ll help you make Penacony feel a little more like home—find the right food, music, scents, whatever you need. In return, you’ll owe me a favor.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course, there’s a catch.”

“There’s always a catch,” he teased, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “But trust me, darling—it’s worth the gamble.”

For the first time in days, the weight of homesickness didn’t feel quite so heavy. Maybe, just maybe, Aventurine’s gamble was one you were willing to take.