#team hell

The dark amber liquid swirling in the glass had mesmerized him for far too long, but he couldn’t manage to tear his eyes away from it. Too light, this one, not enough kick. He wanted something with a bite. Something to knock him on his ass so he wouldn’t have to know what day it was.

Bad decision, Heather called it.

Coping mechanism, said her husband.

They were both right, somewhat. Right and wrong, he mused as he rolled the glass in his hand, watching the whiskey dance back and forth like waves on a rough sea. Like most things in his life, a little right and a little wrong.

Without thinking he hurled the glass across the room, hearing more than seeing the crystal shatter as it collided with the marble. The shards rained down with a merry tinkling into the pile of other shattered decanters.

Under normal circumstances, Feó would be opposed to shattering an entire set of fine crystal ware out of spite. This was, however, a far cry from normal. And, as he poured himself a new glass, the set was hardly worth keeping.

It had been gifted to Marionette on her wedding day. A wedding, Feó raised the glass to eyelevel so he could study the color of a new drink, that he had missed. Oh, he would have loved to have attended, it was by all accounts one of the most lavish parties thrown this century. But he had been busy that day.

Being tortured.

The first draw was smooth, but at the back of his throat it burned like hellfire. He relished in it, downing the whole drink in one shot and pouring himself another.

“She got you too, huh?” Chancey remarked as she stepped into the shop. Ellie, who had been trying to ignore the absolutely massive flower arrangement that now took up half the counter space, flushed crimson.

“Please tell me Léonie didn’t send one to everyone.” There was a distinct note of existential dread in her voice that made Chancey grin.

“From what I hear, everyone got one.” Chancey leaned against the counter and reached up to investigate the bouquet. “Yours has more carnations in it than mine did.”

“You like roses more than me,” Ellie mumbled, waving in final farewell to her coworkers before she attempted to manhandle her ‘gift’ out the door.

Chancey just laughed at her. “Here.” She tossed Ellie her car keys. “I get the flowers, you get the car.”

Once the flowers were, somewhat safely, stowed in the back, Chancey gunned it down the road. They were expected for dinner, a plan Ellie hadn’t realized she’d agreed to.

It had been her complete intention to return home and unwind. Valentine’s wasn’t nearly as stressful for bakers as, say, florists, but they had still gotten slammed with orders. She couldn’t deny the appeal of a single-ladies-night-out, though she was somewhat skeptical that both Chancey and Léonie were involved.

“Remind me to never let you drive me somewhere again,” Ellie said as she staggered out of the car. Chancey grinned at her, unrepentant. “You drive just as bad as Liis.”

Liis and Brodie had beaten them there, the two of them leaning against the low wall outside the restaurant. Liis seemed her usual bored, while Brodie just looked annoyed that she’d been forced to wear shoes.

“Ouch,” the woman in question said in mock hurt. “You wound me.”

“Did you get flowers too?” Ellie asked, and the look of disapproval on Liis’ face made her laugh out loud.

“Tasty,” Brodie answered instead, earning her a hard stare from Chancey.

“You ate them?”

“Salad.”

“Flowers aren’t salad Brodie,” Chancey argued, Liis shaking her head in the background.

“You’re fighting a hopeless battle friend,” Liis told her, turning her head to watch Sévérine and Léonie walk towards them.

“Good, everyone’s here!” Léonie clapped her hands once in excitement, causing her sister to wince ant the sound.

“The flowers and invitations were hardly subtle,” Liis remarked dryly, moving to open the restaurant door. “Don’t you have a boy-toy to spend the night with?”

“The point of Galentine’s day is no boy-toys,” Léonie declared. Sévérine rolled her eyes behind her sister’s back helplessly. Go with it, she mouthed. Ellie grinned.

He knocked, knowing full well she would be able to hear him without the bell. It only took a few moments for the door to crack open. As soon as she caught sight of him, it opened all the way.

“I thought you’d forgotten,” she said in lieu of a greeting, ushering him in quickly and setting the wards.

“How could I forget,” Sirik replied gruffly, shuffling gift bag between his hands nervously. “It’s one day a year, and the least I can do.” He obliged her wordless request to take his shoes off.

“Oh papa, you’re so hard on yourself.” Her response came off like a chastisement, but there was only affection in her eyes as she turned to lead him through the house.

“Your mother would have wanted it,” he said softly, trying to disguise the pain he felt. It wouldn’t be right to give it away. “She deserved better.”

Bex rounded on him, laying a gentle hand on his cheek. “My mother loved you,” she told him, the truth ringing in her words. “You have nothing to make up for, papa.”

“I have much to make up for,” he told her, sharing what little bit of truth he thought she deserved. “Do not waste your kindness on this old man, child. Come, I don’t mean to stay long. I’m sure you have dozens of admirers lined up waiting to spend the day with you.”

Bex laughed softly, shaking her head as she retracted her hand and resumed leading him towards the lounge. “You flatter me. My only Valentine today is you.”

Not entirely true, if the vase on her table was anything to go by. The roses were stark white, highlighted by deep green stems and ivy vines crawling up the topper. The thorns had been left on.

“Your father did not come?”

“Father sends his love,” Bex said, her voice distant. “He always sends his love.”

Sirik bit down an unpleasant comment. He had no room to judge.

“Sit, please.” She gestured towards the couches. “You always try to rabbit out of here early. Today I am determined to keep you.”

She’s so much like her mother, he realized, lowering himself gingerly onto one of the plush loveseats. Bex neatly folded herself onto the floor, and wiggled her fingers at him imploringly. With a smile he handed over her gift.

“For my Valentine,” he said. She smiled at him, a copy of his own.

Summer: We are allowed to keep pets, yes. Whether or not we’d be capable of keeping them alive, however, is a different question. Other than Brodie and Drystan, I’m certain everyone on our team would be fine.

Liis: Nah

Brodie: No