"So since you lost I suggest you get that maid outfit and prepare breakfast Freedie."
@notmalevolent
Oh if looks could kill… (well, technically, theoritcally, it could kind of do that if he wished)
He couldn’t define what was exasperating him more right now; the fact that he lost this damn bet, that shit eating grin on Bixlow’s face or his new duty for the day. In the long run it would probably be the latter, but all three options were certainly succeeding in getting him into a state of disgruntlement.
Freed realized that this was entirely on himself, however. Evergreen had even warned him not to accept the conditions but he’d been on a high horse, overestimating his own pokerface skills in this regard and underestimating Bixlow’s in the process. Now he wished that he would have listened to Ever, not that he’d confess this out loud. Why did he have to get tempted by his own competitiveness and the thought of having his best friend in the very situation he himself was in right now? Oh goddammit…
There was no going back, though. Whatever he would have to endure, and he could only guess that it would be a couple of unnecessary tasks, more self-satisfied grins and the possible attempt to unnerve him further, he was going to do it. He would take this loss and its inevitable consequences with all the pride he had, no matter how humiliating it would get. Backing down on the conditions was never an option.
Admittedly, the one or other threatening sentence lingered on the tip of his eloquent tongue, though they never got to slip past his lips. Instead, after taking a slow breath in order to grasp other thoughts, his lips curved upwards in a clearly faked manner. Unsettling almost, as the smile looked way too bittersweet. Alright. “Good. Let’s get this over with.”
