#tximidity

"Ah..." The question had caught him off guard. Occupied with handing over a bowl to Nich's father, he was eager to retract his hand after it was accepted. And rather than returning to his food, they nestled nervously in his lap, immediately picking at one another, searching for a hangnail or something interesting to fixate on. His gaze followed them with the same driven anxiety. Are you a boy or a girl. It'd been a bit since he heard that question, but it wasn't abnormal either. Many older folk had asked him before upon first meeting him at his old jobs. He knew that his physique was abnormal for a man, his speech pattern more timid, too. He usually answered them without too much fuss over the question...--gender mistakes happened all the time, after all. ...but it was Nich's father. That in itself made him uncertain. It wasn't known that the two of them were dating. There were plenty not supportive of same-sex relationships. So was it a test for that? Was Nich about to get in trouble, depending on how he answered? Not only that, but he had heard Nich call him 'he' all night. So, Sullivan worried that it was more accusatory than curious. "I--um. I'm male." Came his answer, trying to be swift about it. He tried to seem normal in answering too, attempting a smile and reaching back up to his bowl a moment later. A laugh was tried afterwards. "I'm sorry. I-I know my manner of speech can make it a little confusing. I have a really feminine face too. But I am male."

// " Appa, you can't just ask things like that out loud. If you want you can do it privately or ask me instead! "

Nich hardly got upset, especially at anyone for that matter. There was only a handful of people who could see this side of him, much less being on the receiving end. When he was younger, he wouldn't dare raise his voice towards his parents, but now that he was a grown adult, his parents changed their viewpoints to be more progressive, allowing Nich to voice his concerns here and there, provided that they were sound in their mind.

" What? I just wanted to check if he was one of those people. It's important you said, that they were called the proper 'he' or 'she' right? " Nich's father huffed, unable to understand his son's outburst. His accent was thick and difficult to understand, clear that English was not his second language either.

Nich shut his eyes, eyelashes trembling as he tried to be patient. He felt embarrassed for Sullivan, even though it seemed like it didn't affect him all that much. He set down his chopsticks, the metal clanking against the bowl as he had completely lost his appetite. "Appa... he's not that either. Anyway, it's rude, so don't just ask it so forwardly like that. "

Nich's mother reached next to her and touched her son's elbow, frowning at the air. " It's okay, it's okay. Appa is just a little curious. He just wants to know how to treat your friends. "

Continued from [x] with @tximidity

Instead of hitting the ground, as she had expected, Nunnally ended up in Sullivan’s…arms? Well, not exactly, but it was close enough. She blushed and for a few moments she just leaned there on him, feeling like time had stopped. It was the first time for her to be so close to a man, if it were not for dancing. But dancing had rules. And it was not any man. But the one she liked and considered a friend. And no matter how odd that was, she quite enjoyed it. She could not say why, but she did.

“T-thank you…and I-I am s-so sorry…” – she said when she pulled away; perhaps Sullivan was thinking she was behaving odd not immediately correcting her footing – “Thank you for helping me. You arrived just in time. I was rather clumsy…” – she knew she should not be clumsy. Nor stutter. These were the basic requirements towards her. She blushed upon these thoughts, although she was aware that these faults were probably nothing compared with her sneaking away to meet Sullivan.

“It is pretty warm…the sun is strong right now…” – she suddenly realized it was risky to stay outside for her; Nunnally took no umbrella as that would bring unwanted attention to her. But if her skin get burnt or even tanned, she’d be in trouble anyway. She hated what she was right then so much.

“Yes, please. It is actually too warm here…” – she was so excited that she was finally able to go and meet him that she did not pay attention to the heat. But now she felt it was hard to breathe. The corset she wore was restricting her breathing, the dress was not fully suited for this weather and she was not used to being out in the full sun. She tried not to, but she inhaled sharply feeling dizzy.

“Yes, please…I’d like an apple…or perhaps a glass of juice…water…” – she corrected herself as they were walking towards the stables. It, indeed, was nicer inside. She looked for some place to sit, but did not notice anything she could use, so she simply leaned over the wall. Still feeling a bit unwell, she was breathing quickly but shallowly.

“I…I missed you Sullivan. I apologize I could not come earlier. I…I hope you did not think I did not want to see you…but it was especially difficult to leave…”

It was a curious thing— how months after their first encounter, Seong-Min was still checking his phone to the notifications of a text message from that cute little foreigner. Uncommon a thing for him to give out his number, especially to someone he knew would be returning to his own country shortly after. Even weirder, however, was that Seo quickly noticed when the frequency or length of the texts suddenly dropped off and became far and few between. At first, it wasn't something he was the least bit concerned with— it may have even stayed that way and filtered off to nothing if it wasn't for a business related flight to that area of Japan a few weeks later.

A few days came and went quickly as business needs were met and arrangements of certain fashion were made, leading up to the first day he had mostly to himself after an early morning meeting. Gray irises flick through the nearby food recommendations on his phone, trying his luck to see if anything caught his eye— but it was when he happened to glance up at a quiet apology a few yards away that something actually caught his interest. He recognized that voice, the face the quickly angled towards the ground when the apology for bumping into the other man was met with a slight nod.

Seigo glanced over at the hole ridden box in the corner of the room. He could hear sounds coming from within, scratching and chittering. It felt like something would emerge from the box at any second. The chittering... sort of cute. The scratching sounds? Very unsettling, reminded him of the horror movies his cousin Shinra made him watch at the last group movie night.

A part of him still refused to believe this was truly happening. A mixture of anger, joy, and pure confusion swirled in his mind, each emotion fighting for dominance. He hated asking for help. He should have been able to manage this on his own. Truly. He just needed to work harder, right...?

And so he went over to the box, scooped up the contents, and gently dropped them into the pocket of his dress shirt. He picked up the long list he created, grabbed his wallet and keys, then stepped out the door. With his thorough research, it should be more than manageable.

Perhaps he overestimated himself, or rather, underestimated the wonderland of pet stores. So many different noises, colors, and smells. So many different options for every single thing on his list. As much as it pained him to admit, he needed to ask for help.  The warmth by his chest, the gentle movement in his pocket... that little life was completely in his hands, and he could not let it down. Taking out his phone, he took a deep breath in and dialed the number. If he remembered correctly... this person would know what to do. 

TIny does not equal avoidant of consent sir

    Honestly, when he had suddenly become so awkward? The weird feeling in his chest made him feel 10 years younger, and that in itself was strange. He could certainly pin point what it all meant, but was trying to ignore it until the moment felt right. Either way, after some silent standing around the staff room, he eventually enters, walking over to where Sullivan’s current desk was. 

"Good afternoon."

Lucien entered the shop, dressed in a light grey fitting suit that seemed almost white in places where it got hit by the afternoon sun. He never stopped at the door, never wavered or never searched for the right destination.

Continuing the momentum, he advanced with purpose and precision. His eyes found the target immediately.

The purpose was sitting right behind a glass display on the right—macarons. Plush and pretty.

Lucien bent slightly forward to get a better look, needing to scrutinise whether these beauties were as good as the rumours said. He folded his hands formally at the small of his back.

It was unjustifiable if he had been missing out on the best macarons in the city—the last time he had a reputed macaron was on a trip to France way too long ago.

"I've heard high praise about this establishment," Lucien spoke softly without glancing in the shop assistant's direction. The undertone of expectations rang clearly through his tone of voice.

He knew he was being watched; he could feel their spying eyes on him. He was also the only other customer there at the moment. He didn't approach and waited for the boy to come to him instead.