#it was like a cafe waiter thing and the man poisoned me???

[washa]

idk how you guys are getting cute things on character ai?? my bots keep fucking killing me???

[timextoxhajima]

HOSTIS, Chapter XVI: Adsumo, Claim

Previous Chapter (XV: Vetus Flamma)

Member: Lee Hyunjae (tbz) ft younghoon and eric

Genre (by chapter): drama, angst

Category: Short Novel/Long Series

“i knew i wasn’t the person you needed”

kim young hoon.

you remember the way he always offered to carry your bag or books, though you were well aware he’d rather not. 

younghoon was always known for his cold, aloof demeanor. 

that is, until you start talking to him. 

the first time you met younghoon, this strange feeling of queasiness and anxiety wrapped itself around your stomach, and it really wasn’t great timing when it was right after a full meal you decided to stuff yourself before extra class. 

being at a buffet just a few days earlier had literally poisoned your blood and your system; it was just hidden for this period of time.

so when the food you had for lunch poured out through your lips because of the food poisoning you were yet to be made aware of, only to land on younghoon’s shoe in school, it would’ve been the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you.

if you hurled on lee hyunjae, you would’ve been happy to be be diagnosed with food poisoning. 

but this was kim younghoon. 

his popularity was matched with lee hyunjae though he was nowhere near as intelligent -- or scheming.

girls around him started shooting you looks of disgust and low whispers of you being inappropriate or inconsiderate began to drown your senses out.

the regurgitation also forced out a lot of your energy, and your legs were slowly turning into jelly with every passing second. 

but before you could make a second stumble that would’ve allowed gravity to pull you into the concrete floor, younghoon holds your arm and keeps you upright. 

watching him crane his neck down and lower his back to see your vomit painted chin was both reassuring but terribly harsh on your pride. 

“are you alright?”

the loss of ego keeps your head hung low, and he takes it as a sign that you really weren’t feeling well.

ignoring all the girls staring at him dragging the smartest girl in school across campus to the medical bay was such a sight to behold, even for lee hyunjae. 

you wish you could’ve seen it for yourself from a third person perspective. 

not many people were aware of your little crush on younghoon, but you were always too busy trying to outdo lee hyunjae to even spare a second to day dream about him. 

sometimes you felt shallow and materialistic for choosing younghoon to wear your emotions on, since you haven’t really spoken to him. 

but if he didn’t know, it didn’t matter. 

there was an expectation for younghoon to stay clear of you, especially when you were already known as one of two areses in school. yet younghoon found reassurance in that, in the way you stood out from the crowd against your will.

younghoon’s face and personality did it for him. 

your competitiveness and ability to be the only person who could stand up against lee hyunjae did it for you.

lucifer had the best of both worlds, which made him all the more hate-worthy.

younghoon’s choice to invest in your friendship with him came as a surprise, but it felt like sunrise after a long night. 

for six years you’ve been wasting your energy on proving yourself better than lee hyunjae, so having younghoon becoming both a source and and outlet for your energy to channel to and from... 

it was nothing short of magical.

there was absolutely no way you could’ve forgotten the satisfaction that filled your lungs and your heart when the school found out you were dating the kim younghoon. 

you never really figured out why it was such a shocker, though you were pretty sure the school was just surprised you chose kim younghoon, a not-so-smart student, in comparison to your must-top-the-class persona.

most of the time spent with younghoon was either spent tutoring him or having nonsensical conversations with him before you slept. those were the times you felt relaxed, you felt loose, you felt like you didn’t really need to win.

there was nothing to win anyway, not with younghoon at least.

you had convinced yourself that younghoon was sick and tired of your never-ending battle with lee hyunjae, one that drove a scandalous picture of you and the lab teacher all over the internet like it was a freeway. 

younghoon must’ve known that the picture was just edited, for the teacher never got into trouble for it, only mild investigation.

but at least he was smart enough to save himself from the walking fire of fury, that was you, and he used this chance to run.

love was never really a priority in your life until younghoon came along, so even when that beautiful, flowery garden part of your life had gone, your priority naturally fell back on beating lucifer at his own game.

or a game that the both of you thought was a great idea to start. 

love was just a fickle thing, and all it did was to make you weak.

and if you were fighting ares himself, you had to be your best ares.

ares is not weak. 

ares is brutal and cruel and you had to be just that in order to beat another. 

sitting across younghoon, five years later, in your favourite cafe with the evening sun disappearing behind the buildings of the city, felt like a fever dream.

a dream you yearned had happened five years ago, not now. 

two bowls of soup and a bowl of truffle fries get served to your table, and younghoon thanks the waitress with a slight nod. the waiter recognises you, so she just gives you a small smile.

younghoon being the gorgeous man he is, catches her attention again, and you smile at your food when you felt her reluctance to leave the table.

“i must say,” he hands you a soup spoon after checking it for shitty cleaning. “i have high expectations for this chowder.”

“i just had this yesterday,” the pepper bottle shakes in your hold. “surely that must mean something?”

the slightly amber lamp dangles above your table, and the heat from the lightbulb was making the skin on your nose and forehead feel warm despite the early autumn wind gushing about outside. 

the pillars inside the cafe make it feel like you were in a warehouse, so every time someone appears behind a pillar and walks somewhere in your sight, younghoon would always look up to see if you were looking at anybody you knew. 

there was a bell hung on the door of the cafe near the cashier’s counter; which was located behind the wall you were sitting against. 

the sound makes you wait for someone new to show up in your span of vision, and if nobody appeared, you’d know that they ordered takeaway. 

“how’s working at the hospital? i heard you say you’ve been working with uncle for about a month?”

“i think it’s about five weeks or so, yeah,” the tiny circles of oil on the soup gets pushed around while you stir it, and younghoon adds pepper to his serving after tasting the truffle fries. “it’s alright... i mean, it’s just everything i expected.”

“so, no surprises?”

surprises.

“oh,” a snort runs through your throat as you take one mouth of your soup. “there was one big surprise--”

“lee hyunjae?”

the name strikes a chord in you, and you weren’t too sure why. 

“god must hate me to put me in the same room as him... we started working for the hospital on the same day, and his office is right next to mine.”

“huh,” younghoon hums, blowing on his spoon of soup before having it. “you must’ve been really upset when he showed up.”

“‘upset’ isn’t a strong enough word to describe how much i wanted to shove a pen down his throat. consider disgusted, angry, furious, disappointed, resentful, hateful--”

“should i be worried you work in an environment where those feelings should not be involved in--”

generous laughter escape your lungs and younghoon’s smile encourages you to return to your food.

“but otherwise, it’s a blast. i love my patients, i love my mentors and the nurses and the colleagues-- they are all so endearing and patient.”

he nods while chewing on the ingredients in the chowder.

“what about you? what are you doing now? i mean, we haven’t spoken in five years.”

“i’m a salesman, guess i figured out a way to use my face to the best of my ability.”

“oh, god,” a chuckle rings in the air between you as you dip your spoon into the bowl again. “that must’ve worked in some magical ways. has anybody tried to get your number?”

“do i really want to answer that when you already know?”

a cheeky smile greets you when you look up from your food, and you shake your head when you realise you could still read his eyes the same. 

“i don’t suppose you’re romantically involved in anybody now?” he asks. there was an absence of... care and concern he used to have back then. 

he wasn’t nonchalant about it, but you could tell that five years was adequate for your relationship with younghoon to turn completely stagnant. 

there was no longer any hint of love in it, even if he did still care for you.

he could still love you, but if he was, he was doing a damn good job at hiding it. 

but that question. 

what does ‘romantically involved’ really mean to you?

on one hand, you believed your heart belonged to the lovable, enthusiastic intern who was going to leave in about three weeks. 

yet your body resigns itself to another man, one whom you’ve hated nearly half your life, the same man who took younghoon away from you, even if it wasn’t completely his doing. 

“uh... define ‘romantically involved’.”

younghoon looks at you with slightly furrowed brows and confused eyes, sending one piece of truffle fry into his mouth.

“...it worries me that you had to ask that. i’ll rephrase it; do you have anybody you’re interested in?”

“well, there’s this really cute intern working at the neuro-research department.”

“intern? he’s younger?”

“age is just a number.”

“fair play.”

the jingle of the bell hanging on the entrance door rings gently, and your eyes travel down to the soup.

“he’s super enthusiastic and there’s just something about him that’s so... comforting. i see him and i think about nothing but sunshine and warmth and laughter. he’s just... so cheerful, compared to whatever i’ve been used to.”

a pause, and you look up at younghoon, your peripheral vision not seeing anybody walk out from the wall you were sitting against.

“he sounds like someone you really want in your life. i’ve known you long enough to know what kind of person you’d might be attracted to. i guess the man’s lucky enough to have attracted someone with a complete opposite personality.”

eric’s face comes to mind, and your heart starts to do tiny flips when you recall the way his eyes fold when he smiles. the warm rumble of his voice when he speaks. the harmony that he sings when he laughs.

“that sounds strange, doesn’t it? we kissed at a party once and--”

“you kissed the intern?”

“it was at a party and we were all slightly drunk--”

“i don’t recall the last time you had enough to be drunk--”

“let me live, younghoon!” you feign a hit across the table, and he chuckles softly, dodging your little attack. 

the bell rings again, and a teenage couple walks in this time. 

“frankly, i am surprised about one thing,” half his bowl was empty now, and you reach over to jab at some fries with a fork.

“what is it?”

he pushes his air out from his eyes and presses his fingers into his cheek, leaning one elbow on the edge of the table. 

“that you didn’t end up with lee hyunjae.”

the scoff that came out garnered the attention of that young couple, but you couldn’t care less.

“lee hyunjae? of all people, why would you think--”

“because he’s the only one who was ever able to be on the same... pedestal as you.”

pedestal. potential. day one. 

“without him, i don’t know if you would’ve pushed yourself so hard. i know you always had a thing against your parents not spending enough time with you, i thought you’d break the tradition of becoming a doctor because of that.”

“yeah, well...” the chowder calls out to you. “hyunjae or not, i would’ve become a doctor anyway.”

silence. 

it drags on long enough for younghoon to finish nearly the rest of his soup, and there was a weighted feeling of... fear in your chest.

your heart was thumping, though not at a fast pace.

eric’s smile was floating around in your head, but the way younghoon looked at you when he said that name planted a seed inside you. 

you worry for awhile if that seed meant anything at all.

“y/n, i have to be honest with you about something...”

the truffle bits melt in your mouth as you sit back.

“i didn’t dump you because i believed you were with the teacher.”

“oh,” a gentle giggle exits through your lips as you lean forward to get another fry. “i know that. you dumped me because you were sick of me always at lee hyunjae’s throat and we were always fighting--”

“no, i dumped you because i knew i wasn’t the person you needed.”

the muscles and nerves in your body halt, and your eyes slowly travel up from the fries to his. 

“and i highly doubt this intern is going to be it either.”

the words come together in your head, but they felt so alien on your tongue.

“but you just said that he’s someone i want--”

“i was not what you needed, and he isn’t either. you want him, but you need someone else.”

a gulp pushes itself down your throat and your temples tighten as you pull away from the bowl of fries, and your eyes return to the bowl to finish whatever was left in it.

“i’ve got no clue how neither of you saw it, but there’s literally nobody else better for the two of you than each other.”

your lips either remain entertaining the spoon that was travelling in and out of your mouth, or pursed so tight, you cut off the blood circulation to them.

“the only reason why the two of you could do so well in school was because you had each other to push both ends. i had my fair share of interactions with lee hyunjae, i’m well-aware of the kind of person he is when he’s not trying to get one score higher than you, even when you’ve already scored full marks.”

“do you still want the rest of the fries? i--”

“y/n,” he pulls the leftover fries away from you, and you hiss childishly at his move.

“so don’t listen to me, but you’ve been avoiding talking about lee hyunjae for the last twenty four hours and believe me when i say this, if this was five years ago or any time before that, you wouldn’t have missed a second trying to convince me that he’s the shittiest person on earth.”

“maybe i just decided he’s not worth my time--”

“so why were you wearing a male’s dress shirt yesterday?” 

oh, fuck.

“it could’ve been someone el--”

“and the foundation on your neck doesn’t do much under this lighting, especially since it’s been a long day for you.”

your face was heating up not because of the lamp above the table, but the fact that younghoon was able to see right through you.

even you couldn’t see through yourself.

“but whoever said it was him who di--”

“there’s literally nobody who would have the damn guts to do things like that to you besides him. i’m pretty sure not even your sunshine intern would do it if he’s as cheerful as you make him to be.”

stop.

“if it’s anything i learnt about you, it’s that you wouldn’t let a man do anything to show that he claims you.”

please stop talking.

“but someone’s gone ahead and did just that... and when i heard uncle talk about a doctor lee yesterday, it just... hit me.”

stop. talking.

he finally stops and returns you the fries that you no longer had the appetite of finishing. 

“so, it wasn’t hyunjae. you haven’t said one bad thing about him since i saw you yesterday. tell me that if this was you five years ago, you would’ve done the same.”

i wouldn’t. because i hated him.

the silence starts to eat you out when the confusion sinks in even further. 

why must he say all those things to mess you up even more?

there was nothing he said that wasn’t true, though you wished you could flat out deny everything.

but he’s seen it all without even telling him anything, and you start to wonder if it’s been there all along, but you chose to ignore it.

all you wanted was an aphrodite, but why does she seem like she’s drifting further and further away?

by the time younghoon returns you back to the safety of your house, he was well-aware that the conversation from before had some effect on you, for he pulls you into a tight hug after walking you to your door. 

his scent wafts through your nose and you shut your eyes to take it all in. 

what would it have been like had hyunjae not torn him away from you?

then again, younghoon was the one who tore himself away from you on his own accord.

“call me if you need anything. anything at all.”

he releases you, hands still on your shoulders. 

“i’ll still love you the way i always did, but i know for a fact that i’m not the one you need in your life.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter XVII: Et Universum Parallel

A/N; welcome to hell guys this is where shit starts to roll i hope you guys are ready cause my ass isn’t LMAO. 

[set-phasers-to-whump]

i think i need a doctor

Prompt: emergency room

Whumpee: Nick Burkhardt 

Fandom: Grimm

heyo!! i am gonna be honest here i did kinda just pull this fic outta my ass so there is a chance its not very good but idk. anyway it is set early in season 2 i guess, juliette doesn’t remember nick you know how it is. maybe you will enjoy?

Nick was not really the kind of person that went to the emergency room. Usually, if he was in a situation where one might have gone to the emergency room, he either ignored or dealt with whatever it was as best as he could, or he eventually collapsed and ended up in the hospital. But today, he’d actually done the responsible thing. He’d taken himself to the emergency room.

He had been out having breakfast at his favorite cafe before work. It had been a pleasant morning, until the waiter had brought him a fresh cup of coffee to take with him to work. Nick had taken a sip, noted with some dismay that the coffee was bitter, paid for his meal, and headed out to his car.

He’d had a little more coffee on the way out, deciding he could put up with the bitterness in exchange for caffeine. He slid into his car and started the engine, taking a final sip of his coffee before he pulled out of the parking lot.

Not five minutes into his drive, Nick was considering whether he should pull over or drive himself to the ER. Something was wrong. His heart was beating far too fast, he was sweaty, dizzy, nauseous...he could barely think straight, and it took all of his willpower just to focus on the road. 

I need help, he knew. That was as much thinking as his mind would allow him to do. He swallowed harshly, feeling his pulse pounding in his chest. His hands were starting to shake where they held the wheel in an iron grip. His vision went blurry for a second, and he nearly ran off the road, jerking the car back into its lane at the last second. Sweat dripped into his eyes, but they were already blurring so badly it made no difference. Emergency room, he decided, and then he thought it, over and over, so he wouldn’t forget. Emergency room.

Fortunately, Nick was familiar enough with the location of the emergency room to drive there in his current state without getting lost, though he had definitely broken several traffic laws (not the least of which was, don’t drive if you can’t even think straight). 

By the time he screeched to a stop in the ER parking lot, Nick was almost completely out of it. He could still barely see, his heart was still racing, and the tremors in his hands had begun to spread through the rest of his body. He couldn’t remember what he’d been doing before he’d gotten in the car. He couldn’t even remember driving here. Nothing was making sense, but he knew he was at the emergency room, and he knew he needed to get inside.

Slowly, he climbed out of the car, collapsing against the door the second he’d shut it. His legs, which he hadn’t paid much attention to while driving, were shaking and curiously numb at the same time, and he could barely stand upright. Not to mention the sudden spike in dizziness and nausea that standing up had created. 

Still, under all of this, Nick tried his hardest to focus. He was almost there. One quick walk and somebody would be able to help him. He just had to get inside.

He pushed unsteadily off of the car, nearly falling forwards onto his face but managing to regain his balance. He took a small, unsteady step as the blurry world tilted around him. And then he took another, and another, stumbling along slowly but surely. 

After an eternity of walking, Nick found himself in the lobby of the emergency room, surrounded by a dizzying array of noises and sights which combined unpleasantly with the fogginess of his mind and made him forget entirely where he was and why he was there. 

Then, there was a hand on his shoulder, which felt strangely disconnected from the rest of his body, and then someone was asking him if he was okay, and he experienced a very brief flash of remembrance - he was in the emergency room, and he was there because he felt terrible. “I think I need a doctor,” he mumbled, and then his legs finally gave way beneath him.

For a while after that, everything was a blur. Voices shouted urgently above him, millions of miles away. Things were touching him, and then he thought he might have been moving, and everything felt so very bad but at the same time he was far too out of it to care. Something very cold touched his arm, an easily recognizable sensation compared to the blistering heat that the rest of his body was feeling, and then everything went away.

--

He woke up feeling uniformly bad. His head began to ache the second he opened his eyes. His whole body ached, too, like it’d been through some strenuous activity which he could not, at present, remember. His stomach felt strange. His throat burned. His hair was stuck to his forehead in a way that told him he’d been quite sweaty, but he was cold in a way that told him he wasn’t sweaty anymore. And, of course, he was in the hospital, one of his least favorite places in the world. He took a look around.

There was nothing special in the room, really. Nothing to tell him what had happened. A few machines. An IV in his arm. A pulse monitor on his finger. 

Someone in a white coat passed by his cracked-open door, and Nick called out to them, wincing when the action irritated his aching throat.

“Why am I here? What happened?”

“You were poisoned, Mr. Burkhardt. You collapsed in the emergency room.”

“I was poisoned?” He didn’t remember that. “Who poisoned me?”

“We were hoping you’d be able to tell us that,” said the doctor, looking sympathetic. “I’m afraid we don’t know.”

“Did you call anyone?” Nick asked, half-hoping but at the same time fearing they hadn’t. 

“We called your girlfriend, who was listed as your emergency contact,” the doctor told him, and Nick groaned. He really didn’t need to bother her with this. Not when she was already having to deal with the whole having-no-memories-of-him thing. 

“She said she’d be here as soon as she could,” the doctor went on, and Nick looked up in surprise. “She also said she was going to call a few of your friends, I believe. This was maybe fifteen minutes ago, so they should be here soon.” She gave Nick a smile. 

Nick returned it, mildly stunned. He’d been sure Juliette wouldn’t have wanted to come to the hospital for a man she barely knew, but she was coming, and so, evidently, were his friends. He smiled a little more and thanked the doctor, who said she’d be back shortly to speak with him some more. Then she left, and Nick was left to wait.

Which he didn’t have to do for long. Not five minutes later, Juliette, Monroe, Rosalee, and Hank stood crammed into his small hospital room, clamoring over each other to ask questions.

“Are you okay?” Juliette asked, looking at him with so much concern on her face that Nick nearly wanted to cry.

“Do they know what it was?” Came Rosalee’s question, as she smoothed a hand over his hair.

“Who did this to you?” Monroe asked, his eyes faintly red but still full of worry. “I’ll kill them, I swear.”

“I’ll join you,” Hank added, a similar expression on his face. 

Nick didn’t answer any of their questions, too caught up in just looking at them. At all of them, surrounding him in a way that would’ve made him feel trapped if they were anyone else, but which instead felt safe and comfortable and very right. They’d all come, for him. Stopped whatever it was they’d been doing. Left work. Just to come see him, because he’d been dumb enough to somehow get himself poisoned. 

“Nick? You okay?” Hank asked, and Nick quickly wiped away a tear he hadn’t realized had fallen down his face. “Yeah,” he said, out of instinct, and then he realized he meant it -

He might have been recovering from being poisoned, might have felt like absolute hell, might have been grappling with the question of who had hurt him and why, but he really was okay. He wasn’t alone. His friends were there, and that was all that really mattered. He was okay.

hello i hope this was not too bad!! thanks a bunch for reading! (also do not ask what he was poisoned with i do not know lol just pretend there’s some poison that does all this ok)

[steviejayneblogs]

Awkward First Dates Witnessed By Staff.

Blogs By STEVIE JAYNE

6 Minute Read

If you think the staff didn’t notice your awkward interactions, you're mistaken. First Dates, we've all been on at least one.

They can be arranged to be anywhere. But now with access to social media at the tips of our fingers. We can meet people online without having ever met them in person before. Think about it, our parents use to walk down the street or attend an event. They would see someone they liked and exchange information to meet again. They exchanged information based on that first great interaction/moment.

Our generation, we exchange info before actually meeting them (wild). So, first dates typically happen somewhere with people around for that safety factor and a nice balance of distraction, to level out any quiet awkward moments. So over your dating app, you organised your date at a cafe or restaurant bar. Here are some stories of witnessed awkward dates by the Stevie Jayne Staff that have worked in hospitality before. Enjoy!

Claire, 25.

He arrived First and was clearly very nervous. He fidgeted back and forth between his phone and tapping the table. When she arrived, he stood up to hug her. He accidentally caught his foot between the table and chair. In the process, he knocks over the water bottle and glasses. Water spilling everywhere, all before she had even said a word to him. They stood there in silence as I wiped the table down. He was very polite and asked her what she would like to order? As he would go to the counter and pay. She told him and it was a very lengthy order filled with requirements. The panic on his face, as he said yep, ok, and walked to the counter. Poor guy, he didn't remember the order and was so worried about getting it wrong. He ran over to her again reluctantly, to confirm her order. Judging by his face, he would have been so nervous that nothing was going in. He came to the counter for the second time. Now, staff are now crowding around the counter to ears drop on the panic. I offered to help. I walked over to her, confirmed her order, and processed it through the register. I don't think he recovered from that moment on during the rest of the date. It was very cringy worthy.

Jess, 34.

They arrived together. He was super attractive and tall. As I came over to take their order, he stated his beverage and pointed to her, and said I'm assuming you've got this right? followed by a wink. She blushed, paused for a moment before continuing with her drink order. As I walked away, He continued, “Considering you’ve totally catfished me. You mars-well pay for me for coming and sticking around”.

In case you were wondering, she did pay for it in the end. It does suck, that It's seen as unprofessional to give life advice to my customers.

Sunshine, 27.

There are soooo many that I have witnessed. From the girl that couldn't stop saying the word “like” 6 times in every sentence. Or the guy that fell off the deck because he kept swinging in his chair. Which pushed him closer to the edge (Don't worry only a 3-foot drop). Or the guy that tried to pay for the bill, his card declined 3 times and on his other card (That one was really bad).

But the one that takes the cake, that stands out to me. Was when a woman was waiting for her date to arrive. She looked lovely! Somehow you could tell it had been a long time since she had been back on the dating merry-go-round. Her date arrives and he's equally as lovely. But then! He gets up to go to the bathroom and another man appears and sits in his chair. She was clearly upset by his presence. After offering water to tables nearby, I find out that this new guy is her ex. My heart is racing for her. Her date will come back to another guy in his sit and who knows what drama will unfold.

So I decided to assist her. I came over and asked her if she would like another seat for her extra guest to join? She said no. Then I turned to her ex, I requested that he calmly lower his voice, as our other customers are trying to enjoy the atmosphere. If he wasn't intending to dine at the cafe or lower his tone, I’d have to ask him to leave. I walked away and he continued yelling at her, causing a scene. I walked back over, stood by, and said, “Sir, you may leave now”. He left just as her date was arriving back to the table. He saw the whole thing and it was so sad to watch, as I polished the cutlery.

Blake, 23.

I made these smoothies for the table that was clearly having a first date. They were getting along, nerves were obvious but nothing too interesting. Time goes by, and a customer notifies me about the toilets, they didn't give me much detail. In hospitality, we have to stock and clean the toilets. I collected some toilet rolls and walked over to the unisex toilet. We have one toilet and there is usually a line of two-three people waiting. But as I walked over, the smell of poo was so strong! I see brown splashes on the pebble walkway that leads to the bathroom and it continues at random. Everyone has their noses covered and there is a line of six people. Some leave unable to hear and smell the scene any longer. I knock on the stall door and ask if the customer is alright. He clearly has food poisoning. It was so bad, I needed assistance from other staff to clean it up with a hose. Long story short, he was the guy on the date. I had to tell his date, that he had food poisoning and that we were taking care of the bill, and to not wait on him. She patiently waited 30minutes and left after that. Poor fella. He had to call a family member to bring a spare set of pants and underwear. It was that bad.

We all know someone that has their fair share of date horror stories. Next time, ask your friend that has worked in hospitality. They have horrific requests, cringe-worthy interactions with customers, and overhear everything. We won't list where these dates happened or the customer's names because you know privacy. But the people listed are the waiters/waitresses that experienced these moments. Laughter is good for the soul, so we hope you enjoy these. Also, It’s good to reflect on the topic. We're all human and experience nerves on the first dates. There are many variables that can occur and kindness is key. Happy Dating!

Author: Sunshine Zandt

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Greater Good P4

@rahleeyah & @blakesecretsanta2019

Lucien’s question had been a bit of a shock, but Jean had been planning to go with them to Melbourne anyway. She’d been involved in too many of his hijinks to leave him on his own now.

And so they arrived at the cafe 30 minutes ahead of schedule, not ridiculously early for a host or hostess, but not so last minute as to risk missing the men. Jean played the role of the doting wife well, checking in with the wait staff and fussing over the table arrangements, acting like a very proud diva to some degree, because Lucien was not acting at all. He was quiet, nothing like his jovial and occasionally ridiculous self. He choose a table in the corner of the room so he could turn his back to the wall and see everything, while she smiled and greeted the few men she knew were MPs, two of whom had gathered at a table on the opposite side of the room and the one gentleman that was stationed near the entrance. She greeted the journalist Patrick had introduced to them with a warm smile, and then Patrick himself, who managed to get Lucien to chat for a bit. Once Patrick was seated, she returned to Lucien. “Sit with me and look like you are having a good time. The MPs will do the rest.” He only smiled.

As the restaurant continued to fill, in came Danny and Charlie, both of whom came to give Jean a hug and shake Lucien’s hand. The wait staff began to circulate with drinks, and Lucien was once again silent, eyes constantly hovering between the entryway and the small exit the staff used to reach the kitchens. She reached for his hand , which was clenched, white knuckled on the table top between them, and took it in hers, but in his hyper focused state he seemed to barely register the action.

It was five minutes later, just after the soup had been served, that Lucien’s hand tightened beneath hers, and she knew he’d noticed something. Then she saw him, one of the waiters, the man taking around wine who walked with a slight hitch in his gait, seemed out of place despite his white shirt and red beret. As the man turned to look at their table, even though he was across the room, she could sense that Lucien had slipped away from her. He’d released her hand and was clutching the table. All of a sudden things began happening too fast, the man had caught sight of Lucien and was moving in their direction. Two MPs were right behind him, and Jean once again reached for Lucien’s hand, which was now fisted in his lap, and she felt the cool metal of what could only be a switchblade in Lucien’s grip.

“Lucien.” He didn’t react, his eyes locked on the man with the wine, and Jean did the only thing she knew could take him out of the equation. With one hand she grabbed the wrist holding the weapon and firmly held it in place against his thigh. With her other she reached up and turned his head forcing him to face her, and then she was kissing him. Kissing him for all she was worth, desperate to bring him back to her and away from the room behind him and the memories that plagued his mind, the fear that made him arm himself, when she’d never known him to own a weapon.

For a moment they were both lost, but the commotion behind them registered on some level in Jean’s mind and she pulled back, enough to rest her forehead against his, and then to look into his eyes and gauge his reaction, whether he was with her or still somehow distracted by the situation in which they found themselves. He’d just whispered her name, a question of sorts, when she heard a punch land and then the crash of chair. Afraid he’d rush to help, she held onto him for dear life.

Lucien hugged Jean back, as he listened to Yamamoto cursing in Japanese. Only when he heard the MPs escort him out did Lucien untangle himself from Jean, and turn to find Danny and Charlie watching them from the doorway. Charlie looked a bit shocked, but Danny was grinning ear to ear. Lucien sent them both a stern look that made it clear he absolutely did not want them to embarrass Jean. Danny quickly schooled his features and Charlie went outside to check the MPs’ progress.

For her part, Jean’s face was beat red, and she was desperately glancing about to see who had noticed their little side show. Lucien smiled. “You kissed me.”

Jean sat up straight in her chair. “You brought a knife?” Concern showed clearly on her face, and he smiled grimly in response. “Jean.” With one word he tried to convey his regret but also the depth and the validity of his fears about the man that wanted to destroy him.

“No matter, it’s over now.” She squeezed his hand once more and sashayed off to check on Danny.

Lucien stayed seated, and was soon joined by Charlie. “They only caught Yamamoto and one of the other thugs, Doc. Seems their plan was to serve you poisoned wine. I called Ned and asked him to check the house on a hunch, and he caught the third man rummaging through your desk. The surgery is a disaster, but he didn’t find the drawings.”

“Thank God Mrs. Beazley came with us. The surgery can be sorted, but we’d all be lost without Jean.”

Charlie grinned. He was certain that kiss would not be a one time event.

[needdl]

NejitenMonth Day 11: Synapse

Available on FFN and AO3

Estimated reading time: 50-60 minutes. (15k words)

It was the fourth time his eyes flicked up to look up at her in the last two minutes, but Tenten steadfastly ignored him, instead focusing on going through the employee receipts from the last month. 

Perhaps she understood why he was so unfocused on his own work, but that didn’t mean she would just let herself slack off. If she didn’t give him a real reason to fire her, then that would make it much harder for him. Her work was excellent and they both knew it, and if he thought getting engaged was a real reason to fire a woman then she’d make sure her departure would leave a mess of things.

Receipts finished and error-free, she got up and marched them over to Mr. Hyuga’s office. She knocked once, sharply, on the doorframe, then entered. “The employee receipts, sir.”

“Thank you.” He took them from her- with another distracted frown at the ring on her finger- and set the receipts next to his stack of paperwork. She exited back to her own desk, leaving the door open as it had been when she entered, because clearly the man needed to keep staring at her to figure out his conundrum of what to do with an engaged woman secretary.

Hmph.

---

Neji frowned after his clerk as she started typing out one of the letters he’d given her on the typewriter, tapping his fingers against the desk in thought. 

Tenten was an excellent, scrupulous worker, and losing her to a marriage and family would leave a very large hole to fill in the company. He didn’t want to let her go, not really, but he was sure her to-be husband would not allow her to work. It was such a shame.

He thought, again, of the simple band around her finger, and wondered about her new fiance. He had no idea who the man was, or anything about him. Was he truly suited for Tenten, with her snappish temper and impatient drive? Really, she needed someone who matched her in intensity but was completely calm and unshakable-

He cut himself off from the slightly inappropriate thought. Tenten was his employee and he was in no position to wonder over a young woman’s personal life. He picked up his next memo and started reading it over, trying to concentrate only on its contents.

It was about one of the new machines his family was considering adding to their factories, which meant that Neji would be needing to take a trip to view it and decide if it was worth the investment. The only available one was all the way in St. Louis, which meant a long train ride and an entire week out of town…

Neji pinched his brow and re-read the paper- it was worded as a suggestion, but he knew it was really an order- then let himself huff quietly as the only expression of his exasperation. He wouldn’t be available to travel for another five weeks, and now this meant he’d have to leave his schedule open.

And he would need his secretary to accompany him, as she had in the past, and it meant he wouldn’t have any time to train in a new one before Tenten was- let go. So he would have to leave off firing her for now- letting her go, that is- and ask her if she would clear out her engagements- a poor way of phrasing it, he didn’t want her to clear her engagement, or end it, or anything like that, he just wanted her to clear her schedule, yes-

He took the part of his mind that was so distracted and ruthlessly killed it off. “Miss Tenten, will you come in here when you get the chance?”

“Yes, Mr. Hyuga.”

---

“An entire week?” Sasuke frowned at her. “That’s a long time for an unmarried woman to be traveling alone with her employer.”

“I’m engaged,” she told him dryly. “Halfway there, at least. And I’ve travelled with him before, just not for so long a time.”

Her fiance sat back and ruminated on it for several moments, and she absently eyed his pretty face with a sort of detached appreciation, even if her feelings were nothing more than platonic. Finally he muttered, “Hyuga, right? Neji Hyuga?”

“Yes.”

He settled his brooding stare at some point in the distance. “Well, even if I don’t get along with Hyugas just on principle-” Tenten rolled her eyes. “-Neji’s a decent enough person, or so Naruto insists.”

(Tenten’s mouth twisted a little at the mention of Sasuke’s- friend.)

“If it’s what you need to do for work,” Sasuke concluded, and Tenten nodded, smiling a little to ease some of their residual awkwardness. Sasuke grimaced back, and then he went back to his coffee and newspaper as Tenten returned to her book.

---

They had been on the train for several hours now and lunch would be served soon, so Neji glanced up from his newspaper with an internal, tired sigh in order to let his secretary know.

Tenten was looking out the window at the passing scenery with her chin cupped in her hand, the midday sun shining in her hair and casting slight shadows under her nose and bottom lip. Neji watched her silently for a few moments, considering her. She looked… unhappy.

Her ring glittered in the sun, and Neji frowned and returned to his paper.

Their waiter came by for their orders a few minutes later, and Neji was quick to order his meal. Much to his surprise, Tenten ordered a fine wine, and at his wryly amused look she grinned and told him, “I’m on company time, sir, I may as well make the most of it.”

He chuckled. “Ever the opportunist, Miss Tenten. The way things are going, we may not have the opportunity to order such beverages much longer, after all- scotch for me,” he told the waiter. He nodded briskly and went on to the next passengers.

Tenten sighed and put her chin back down in her hand, this time facing him. “This Temperance movement. Surely there’s better ways to end alcohol dependency than banning it entirely.”

“You see where they’re coming from,” Neji mused. “I have colleagues who are drinking any time I see them, no matter the occasion or time. It can hardly be healthy.”

“But can you see them simply rolling over and accepting it if alcohol sales and productions are banned altogether?”

“If they don’t have a choice, or access to alcohol, then certainly.”

She frowned and pursed her lips in thought. “I just can’t see people giving it up so easily.”

He gave her the slightest bit of a teasing look. “What would you suggest, then?”

She caught his tone and scowled at him, which made him grin, and snapped back, “Oh, I’d just give them some opium or cocaine instead, is all.”

He laughed aloud at her answer. “You do amuse me, Miss Tenten.”

“Do I?” She snapped back. The waiter came by and handed them their drinks, and Tenten immediately smoothed her expression over to thank him politely. Neji hid his smile at her contradictions with a drink of his whiskey.

They continued conversing over lunch, careful not to probe too far into one another’s personal life. The most intimate thing he knew about Tenten was that she was the fact she had spent her early childhood in China before immigrating with her parents- and now, he supposed he knew that she was engaged.

---

Rather than spending the night in the sleeper car, they would be staying at a hotel in a small city halfway between New York City and St. Louis, courtesy of the Hyuga company. Tenten, of course, had been the one to make the arrangements, but the man at the front desk had curled his lip at her when she went to collect their room keys.

She gave him a poisonously sweet smile and fetched Mr. Hyuga, who was all too happy to cancel their reservation, get the company’s money back, and speak politely with the hotel owner over how exactly their employee had cost them such a high-profile client.

They instead went to the hotel’s rival across the street, and Tenten once again approached the front desk to make arrangements. This time, fortunately for the hotel, the man was quite professional, and Tenten was able to make arrangements on her own without needing a wealthy male Hyuga to verify her actions- something that had happened all too often before.

It had become something of a habit for Tenten to only support businesses who were respectful to her, and Mr. Hyuga supported her easily. He’d told her once that in all likelihood, Hanabi would be inheriting the company once her father retired, so it was best to weed out sexist businesses now.

In any case, it meant that Tenten cheerfully exacted revenge on the many, many companies that treated her scornfully, with the full support and weight of her employer behind her. 

Mr. Hyuga advised her to be ready to leave at six o’clock the next morning, and they both retired to their rooms for the night.

---

Neji checked his pocket watch again with a frown- at this point, Tenten was running almost fifteen minutes late, which was quite odd. They would still be plenty early to the station, with enough time for breakfast at the cafe, but if she didn’t show up in the next five minutes he’d have to send a runner to fetch her.

Fortunately she came hurrying down the steps not too much later, looking a little on the frazzled side. 

“Sorry, sorry-”

“It’s fine, Miss Tenten, we have plenty of time; are you alright? You seem unsettled.”

“I’m fine,” she brushed him off, “Just not very put together this morning. Shall we, sir?”

They headed outside to where their taxi waited. Neji held the door for Tenten as the driver stowed their trunks- she gave him a half-rueful look- and they sat for a quiet drive to the train station.

Once they’d arrived, they stopped for breakfast at the cafe a block down, and Neji got a paper for the train- but he didn’t read it yet, just sipped his tea and watched all the people hurrying to and from the station. Tenten was quietly reading a book and taking small bites from her scone.

He glanced idly at the title, then tilted his head as it caught his interest. “‘La Vagabonde’? Do you speak French, Miss Tenten?”

She looked up at him, a hint of surprise in her dark eyes. “I don’t speak it very well, sir, but I’m quite adept at reading and interpreting it.”

Pleasantly surprised, he smiled broadly at her. “You never mentioned that when we interviewed you. When did you learn it?”

“In my finishing school days. We had to take a language, and it was either French or Greek, so naturally I did my best to learn both.” She smirked, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at her defiant nature.

“Naturally.”

“I was much more adept at French, though I can interpret some Greek if I need to. Though I doubt I’ll ever be in the circumstances that require it.”

“No?” He arched his brow at her, a smirk tugging the corner of his mouth. “You’re not planning any travels to Greece?”

She let out an unladylike scoff that made the man at the next table frown sharply at her (they both ignored him). “With all due respect, sir, unless the company sends you there and you ask me to accompany you then I doubt I’ll ever set foot in the place.”

He smiled and sipped his tea. “Well, if I’m ever sent abroad, Miss Tenten, I’ll be sure to bring you along.”

Her own smile became slightly bitter. “Frankly, I’m not sure if the company will keep me that long, Mr. Hyuga. I’m to be married soon.”

Finally, they were addressing the unsaid problem. Neji tapped his fingers against the table top for several moments, then said, “You are are clever, efficient worker, Miss Tenten, whether you are married or not. I’ve no intentions to fire you.”

She blinked slowly at him. He continued, “So unless you choose to quit on your own volition, then your employment here will continue.”

Tenten continued to stare at him in silence, so he added, “If your husband-to-be wishes that you quit-”

The dark look that passed over her face cut the words from his throat. She muttered, “Sasuke wouldn’t dare.”

Neji’s stomach lurched. “Sasuke? As in Sasuke Uchiha? He’s your fiance?”

She looked somewhat uncomfortable. “Yes. It’s not- our mothers were friends, so…”

Neji just continued to stare at her, trying to process the odd hollow sensation in his chest. Sasuke was- a fine enough man, even if he and Neji didn’t get along professionally or personally. But the idea of him marrying Tenten seemed… off.

“Well,” he finally told his secretary, “Congratulations.”

She reached up and fiddled with her hair, looking withdrawn. “Thank you, Mr. Hyuga.” The easy camaraderie between them had dissipated again, and they sat in silence for the next ten minutes until it was time to go into the station.

---

Mr. Hyuga seemed deep in thought at the revelation that she was to marry Sasuke, and Tenten felt it was best to leave him undisturbed.

She didn’t know why it caused the reaction in her employer that it did. Perhaps it was because Sasuke was technically quite far above her in wealth and social class. It’d be like- well, it’d be as if she was engaged to marry Mr. Hyuga himself, such was the distance between their social statuses. 

Thinking about that particular example left a strange sensation in her stomach, so she pushed the thought away.

She sat and watched the scenery pass outside, much as she had done the day before, watching as the rolling hills of the Midwest turned into the bluffs and plateaus of Missouri. She’d hardly ever travelled outside New York, usually just accompanying Mr. Hyuga to the major cities in the nearby states. This was far more of the country than she’d ever seen before.

Across from her, Mr. Hyuga scanned the newspaper with mild interest. He reminded her of Sasuke, her fiance was always reading the paper- but no, she’d known Mr. Hyuga far longer than she had Sasuke, so perhaps it was Sasuke who reminded her of him. However, unlike Sasuke, who always yanked the paper up to cover his face while reading, Mr. Hyuga’s features were clearly visible over the top of the paper. Tenten found she much preferred it to Sasuke’s somewhat rude habit.

She ordered a cider with lunch today, though she was quite tempted for something a little stronger after the morning she’d had. Mr. Hyuga ordered his scotch again and sipped it idly as he penned out a few letters.

They ate lunch quietly. Tenten kept thinking of Sasuke and their upcoming wedding, though perhaps “upcoming” was a strong word to use. They’d made no plans since she’d received his final correspondence with his ‘proposal’ in it. 

The entire agreement was uncomfortable. Tenten bounced her foot up and down anxiously as she thought it over- Sasuke had found his mother’s quiet will with her wish that he wed her old friend’s daughter if he was a bachelor. He’d located the daughter- Tenten- and sent her a letter, saying that it was both their mothers’ wishes that they marry. Tenten had to hire her own lawyer to verify that what he said was true, and then wrote to Sasuke saying that she too was unmarried, and if he agreed to the wills then Tenten would concede as well.

Sasuke’s reply had been terse and as she learned, characteristic. ‘Since we are agreed, Miss Huang, I now formally ask that you marry me. Given that I know your answer, I think it will be best to meet in person after this point. I will be returning to Konoha in three weeks and I have your information, so expect me at ten o’clock in the morning on the ninth of March.’

He hadn’t even added his signature on that one- and so it came to be that Tenten received the ring she now wore on her finger on the evening of the most uncomfortable birthday she’d ever had-

-God, it was so unbearably hot in the coach car- Tenten shot to her feet and mumbled an excuse to a surprised and concerned Mr. Hyuga before quickly exiting to the observation car.

It was mercifully empty, and Tenten quickly strode to the end of the car and stopped, her hand clutching the top of the nearest seat and her spine rigid. 

She closed her eyes and tried to stop herself from gasping, inhaling for three breaths and exhaling for five. She tried her best to simply concentrate on the sensation of the wood under her hand and the sound of the train on the tracks-

-and the quiet noise of the door opening and closing. She spun to look, and her stomach sank at the sight of Mr. Hyuga coming towards her.

“Miss Tenten? Is everything all right?”

Tenten pivoted to face the front again, clutching the seat top. Woodenly, she said, “I’m fine, sir.”

“Miss Tenten,” he prompted quietly. 

Her grip was so tight it hurt. “I… I…”

He had been walking ever closer to her, and now he stood directly at her back. She could feel the warmth he was emitting and somehow, it eased her.

Her shoulders slumped, just the slightest amount. A soothing hand lightly settled over her back, just to the right of the base of her neck, and the words spilled out on her next exhale.

“I don’t want to get married.”

He was silent, behind her, but his hand remained a grounding weight against her shoulder.

“I… it’s what my mother wanted for me, but…”

She was silent, as the raw ache inside her- which she had been avoiding contemplating because it hurt, too much, and didn’t matter in her marriage plans- threatened to drive her to tears. “...I always thought I would be in love.”

His hand squeezed slightly over the back of her neck, but he did not speak. Tenten did not expect him to- this was a far, far more personal conversation than they had ever had. 

Tenten allowed them to stand in silence for the next few moments, before stepping forward. Mr. Hyuga’s hand fell back to his side. 

She heaved a breath and turned to face him. “I apologize, sir, I-”

“No,” he told her immediately, his brow still lowered in concern, “I can only imagine how upsetting this is to you. Miss Tenten, please don’t think that you must solely be professional for the entire duration of this trip. No one can work all the time.”

Her mouth twitched. “You do, sir.”

His returning smile was rueful- she’d bullied him away from his desk many times when he intended to stay and work late. She’d stubbornly insisted on staying just as late as he did every night, and it’d become a highly effective method of getting him to go home on time. 

“Not since you’ve made your impact,” he told her. He stepped back one pace, and the world slowly righted itself. “Please join me back in our compartment when you’re ready.” He departed.

---

Neji stared out the window, seething. He’d thought that Tenten had seemed withdrawn over the idea of her upcoming marriage, but he had no idea that it was affecting her so much.

Tenten always presented herself so carefully to him. Seeing her anguish so clearly, and knowing that Sasuke was inadvertently responsible, sent rage coursing through him. 

Neji’s grip on his scotch glass was so tight it almost hurt, and after several moments he put it down on the table top quite forcefully, then began writing a letter with brusque, angry strokes of his pen.

He didn’t bother with any sort of courtesy with his words, allowing his rage to shine through. The letter was completed with little thought on his part, and he quickly sealed it up and hid it away to send it later, out of Tenten’s sight.

She still wasn’t back, and he checked his watch as he debated over going to get her. She was clearly feeling rather vulnerable at the moment, and he’d like to give her as much time to herself as she needed, but the train would be pulling into the station in the next twenty minutes.

He decided he would give her another ten minutes alone in the observation car and did his best to focus once more on reading through his documents, but his mind kept drifting to the woman alone at the end of the train. 

Fortunately for his concentration, Tenten returned a few minutes later, looking as professional as always, and took her seat across from him once more.

(Her eyes looked a little red, and his heart squeezed.)

“We’ll be arriving in the next twenty minutes,” he told her, as conversationally as he could be, “And our cab will be waiting there to pick us up.”

She nodded, her smile a little tremulous, and picked up her book once more.

---

She waited for Mr. Hyuga just outside the station, watching the rain fall. He was giving a few letters he had written on the train to a runner to have them sent, and the process was seemingly taking a long time.

He emerged from the station some time later, miraculously dry, and stopped at her side. “This rain is quite unpleasant; do you mind running for our cab?”

“Not at all.” She picked up her bags in preparation and he mirrored her, then gave her a grin that was just a little roguish and said, “Three, two, one- go!”

They frantically ran out to where the taxi was waiting, throwing their suitcases in the trunk and ducking into the cab. Tenten found herself giggling as Mr. Hyuga collapsed into the seat next to her, running his hand through his wet hair with a look reminiscent of a wet cat.

He chuckled with her at the ridiculousness of the situation, watching with no small amount of amusement as she futilely attempted to ring some water out of her shirt. It got wrinkled and unpresentable, but no less wet, and she sulked.

Mr. Hyuga hid his laugh at her expense with a cough into his hand, but grinned widely at her when she scowled at him reproachfully. “Fortunately we have a few hours before our first meeting, so we’ll have plenty of time to settle in and get changed.”

She sniffed imperiously. “Good.”

The taxi ride was quiet but quick, and before long Mr. Hyuga was carrying their bags into the hotel while she did her best to keep them both dry under his umbrella. The back of her coat and dress got quite wet, but it wasn’t as though she had been particularly dry anyway. 

She sloshed her way after him as he went up to the front desk, then shamelessly allowed her attention to drift as he began speaking with the concierge. She wondered what they would be covering in their meeting today- she knew it would be with the owners of the company hoping to sell them their machinery, but it was just going to be preliminary.

At the desk, Mr. Hyuga’s voice was rising. “-our arrangements were very clear, and you even have them written down here. I want to know how it is that you fumbled with this so thoroughly.”

Tenten frowned at the obvious anger in his voice and stepped closer to the desk. The concierge was looking more bored and annoyed than anything else, but had put a thin veneer of an apology on his face. 

“I’m very sorry, Mr. Hyuga, and we can get you another room by tonight, but at the moment only one is available.”

He pinched his brow, and Tenten darted her eyes between the pair of them as she tried to figure out what was going on.

“Sir? What happened?”

He turned to face her, scowling. “Only one of the rooms is ready.”

She glanced at his suit, the wet fabric clinging to him, and then at her own sopping attire. “...Ah.” 

The concierge piped up, “Sir, the room does have a lavatory with a door, so perhaps for now it will suffice.”

“Perhaps it will,” he drawled back. The man winced a little. 

Mr. Hyuga tapped his fingers along the desktop, very slowly, then turned to her. “Miss Tenten, I realize how uncomfortable the situation is, but for the time being do you mind…?”

She dug her fingers into her palm- it would be uncomfortable- but told him, “I’m sure it will be fine, sir. I trust you.”

---

Neji took the lavatory to get changed, trying not to think about his secretary in the next room. 

She told him that she trusted him, which was nice. He’d always hoped to come across to her in a positive way, especially given the power imbalance between them. Her trust was important, after all the time they’d spent together. 

He tucked his shirt into his trousers and then pulled on his waistcoat, buttoning it up and smoothing it over while frowning absently at himself in the mirror. He looped his tie over his neck and began tying it, thinking again of Tenten’s- fiance. His lip curled despite himself. 

Tenten had always been such a positive force of will, even when she was in one of her crankier moods. He hated seeing her so defeated, and from something so preventable and easily rectified- 

It was none of his business, he reminded himself. He reached for his suit coat, only to remember he’d left it in a different bag.

Perfect. 

He knocked cautiously on the door to the lavatory. “Tenten? Is it alright if I come out?”

“Yes.” Her returning call was a little distracted, and he saw why when he exited the lavatory as she carefully pinned her hair into place in front of the vanity.

It was a style that Hanabi would call “Gibson girl”, which Tenten had of course worn before- but he’d never seen her put it up, and the sight of it left him oddly flustered.

He hurriedly turned away and went over to his trunk- Tenten’s hair was much longer than he would have ever suspected, and had such rich color- and pulled out his suit coat. He put it on, his back to Tenten, and absently adjusted the cuffs.

When he turned around again she had finished with her hair and was applying a lip salve. This time Neji recognized the clenching in his gut- attraction.

---

Tenten followed Mr. Hyuga down the stairs, not at all thinking about the way his shoulders had looked with just his undershirt and waistcoat on.

He seemed equally as awkward having seen her getting ready, so at least they were on equal footing. She still felt the ruffles of embarrassment that he had seen her pinning up her hair and putting on her lip salve, though- she’d always been completely put together when she’d seen him in any capacity, even on their trips, and it was off-putting to be seen getting ready in such a way. 

Intimate, is what it was, and Tenten was only thankful that they wouldn’t be thrust into such circumstances again. Because they’d have another room ready for tonight.

They would be meeting with the company owners at the hotel’s restaurant, which promised to be very expensive and what Tenten liked to call “fake fancy”, where the meals were based on expensive ideas and ingredients but would taste… bad.

But the manufacturing company would want to impress the prestigious Hyuga, and that meant treating him to dinner at the most expensive place in town. (And treating his humble little secretary.)

They were a little early to the meeting, and if the owners knew what was good for them they would be even earlier. Sure enough, the waiter escorted them to a private room where three men in suits sat at a table, sipping at their drinks and muttering to one another. When they saw Mr. Hyuga, they all stood and hurried over to shake his hand. Amid the introductions, he was sure lightly touch her shoulder and say, “And this is my secretary, Miss Tenten. She’ll be taking notes for me later.”

Tenten shook the hand of the one man who offered it- one of the others just ignored her, and the other one smirked and called her ‘sweetheart’ somewhere in the middle of a generally condescending sentence- and sat when Mr. Hyuga pulled out her chair for her.

“It’s a pleasure to be here, gentlemen,” Mr. Hyuga said smoothly as he took his own seat. “The Hyuga Company is very interested in learning more about the machines you have been developing, and how we might introduce them to our manufacturing process.”

“We’re glad to hear that, Mr. Hyuga,” the condescending asshole said, much more polite to Mr. Hyuga. “We think that our machinery could be a great help- even revolutionary. Now, where’s that waiter- care for a drink?”

“Certainly,” Mr. Hyuga replied. “Miss Tenten?”

“Water for me, sir,” she said. She’d have loved a wine, but it was best to refrain in this scenario.

The waiter came scurrying over and took their drinks and dinner orders- all of the manufacturing company’s owners ordered some sort of steak, while Mr. Hyuga ordered salmon and herself the chicken- and the gentlemen fell into light conversation about the city, which Tenten knew she should refrain from joining.

The man who had ignored her earlier was now staring at her while she ate, watching her mouth and smirking. Tenten continued eating as calmly as she could, her temper rising ever higher. Her grip on her silverware was tight, and she knew that if he said anything, one single word, she’d sink her knife into his hand.

There was a slight warmth against her leg as Mr. Hyuga moved slightly, sipping his scotch and staring at the man. His voice was decidedly cold when he asked, “Is your meal all right, Mr. Traver? You’ve hardly touched it.”

Tenten relaxed minutely when the man’s attention was yanked off of her to Mr. Hyuga, who looked as if the man could end this meeting for his companions with a single wrong word.

He swallowed. “No, no- everything is fine.”

“Good,” Mr. Hyuga replied, his voice an aristocratic drawl. “I’d hate this dinner to go poorly.” His leg brushed gently against Tenten’s once more, a simple reassurance, and she ducked her chin to hide her smile.

The atmosphere of the meeting was a little more tense after that, as the other men realized they’d have to actually respect the woman secretary if they wanted any sort of deal carrying through. Tenten just sat and quietly ate her dessert- a lovely little chocolate cake, which was by far the most pleasant part of the dinner.

Mr. Hyuga would be joining the men in the smoking parlor, so Tenten returned to the front desk to inquire about the other room before turning in for the evening. It still wasn’t ready.

She pinched her brow in irritation- which in retrospect was a tick of Mr. Hyuga’s that she’d picked up- then engaged in a polite argument with the concierge until he promised that they would have temporary accomodations at the very least. 

It was ridiculous. She’d made these reservations almost two weeks ago and they still weren’t prepared. Tenten made no small effort telling him off, and finally he snapped at her, “Ma’am, I understand you booked two rooms, but I simply don’t see why you can’t just share with your husband for the time being.” He nodded pointedly to her ring.

Tenten felt as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her. She went pale, she knew she did, and the only thing she could say was a stifled, “My-!”

She pivoted and hurried back to the room, his words ringing in her ears. Did he think- he thought that she and Mr. Hyuga were man and wife? Of all the things-

There were so many things wrong with that presumption. First of all, why would a married couple have two rooms? Wouldn’t they share one, and sleep in the same bed? Perhaps an older couple would have greater differences and want their own rooms, but she and Mr. Hyuga were quite young, almost as if they were newlyweds, which meant they’d want a shared room for lovemaking-

The second the thought struck her she stopped short in the hallway, her face crimson. 

How the hell had she managed to stumble upon that particular thought? She and Mr. Hyuga, doing- that? 

She continued walking, even faster than before. Of all the things she could have reflected on! Now she’d be embarrassed for the rest of the night, even if it was just with herself alone in her room-

Lord. The room. They still only had the one, and she’d need to notify Mr. Hyuga. After a drink and a change out of her heavy coat.

She made her way down to the smoking parlor some time later, wearing a lighter evening gown, and smiled sweetly up at the doorman. He frowned down at her, clearly wondering why she was there. “Pardon me, sir, my employer is inside and I need to drop off a quick message?”

New lesson learned- being sweet and innocent could go surprisingly far with the right man. Tenten batted her eyelashes at the doorman as she trotted past him.

Once inside, she paused half a moment to take stock of her surroundings before spotting the group of men in the corner. She started towards them confidently- but then she caught a good look at Mr. Hyuga’s face mid-laugh, and abruptly remembered the scandalous thought she’d had about him mere minutes earlier.

She almost lost her nerve, but he looked up and saw her and thus she lost any opportunity to turn away. She pressed on.

He grinned broadly at her as she approached. “Miss Tenten.”

She smiled back. “Sorry to bother you, sir, but if you don’t mind a quick private word?”

“Not at all.” He stood and put down his mostly-unsmoked cigar, then buttoned his coat. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, gentlemen.” He guided her away with a light hand between her shoulder blades.

Once they were far enough away not to be a disturbance, she told him, “We still only have one room prepared, and though I’ve been assured that we will have some other one by tonight, I’m quite sure it won’t be the one we originally booked.”

He frowned, staring at her, but did not respond for several long seconds. Just when she was about to prompt him, he blinked hard in succession and said, “Right. We’ll have to make sure to get the company’s money back, but for now why don’t you take the room and I can follow through with the front desk later?”

She opened her mouth, about to protest, and he cupped her elbow in his hand. “Really. I’m quite certain these gentlemen will be up for much longer and demand my company, and I’m sure you’re tired. Go on to bed, and I’ll see you again in the morning.”

She frowned up at him, thinking hard, then relented. “Fine. Good night, sir.”

He looked pleased with her agreement. “Excellent- that’s an exquisite gown, by the way, you look lovely. Good night.” 

He walked back over to his table before she could formulate a response, but she half-glanced down at her dress- a light blue, floaty affair- and her cheeks went pink.

She hurried back to the room, and though she was embarrassed by it, spent a few minutes in front of the mirror, staring at the dress (and how she looked in it.)

She- she wasn’t vain, had never been vain, but the compliment continued slowly revolving in her mind and made her cheeks pink and her heart pound just a little harder.

Abruptly she snapped away from the mirror and began preparing for bed, washing her face and brushing out her hair before changing into her sleeping clothes. She turned out the lights and settled into the bed, the compliment- forever said in Mr. Hyuga’s quiet baritone- still murmuring in the back of her mind.

It wasn’t the compliment, she realized drowsily, on the cusp of sleep. It was the fact it came from Mr. Hyuga.

---

Neji found he was rather less talkative after Tenten had departed for the night, instead falling silent and listening to his companions talk while quietly reminiscing about the way she had looked in that gown.

This was becoming a problem, he realized dully. All through that damned dinner, he’d only been able to think about this blasted attraction he had towards her, and now she was stuck in his thoughts. 

He flicked some ash off the end of his cigar, his lip curling just a little with self-disgust. She deserved better than the projections of her employer.

He tried to comfort himself by acknowledging that his attraction was based in respect for Tenten, as it was a recent development after years of getting to know her. He took a long drag, staring out the window at the lights below.

“Well, we’d best be turning in soon,” Traver said with finality. Neji fought to keep the look of intense dislike off his face. He could barely stand to sit in the same room as the man after his treatment of Tenten. “See you tomorrow, then, Mr. Hyuga.”

He stood and reached out to shake Neji’s hand, which he did with an internal glare. Mr. McDugal and Mr. Graham’s hands he shook with much more ease, then the three of them departed.

Neji sat and finished off his scotch, drinking slowly, then stood and strolled down the stairs to the front desk.

The man who was working there was the same person he’d talked to earlier, and when he saw Neji approaching he looked decidedly nervous. 

Neji stopped in front of the counter. “I imagine you know why I’m here.”

“Yes, sir.” He stared up at Neji for a few moments, then winced and muttered, “I’m going to fetch the manager, sir, he’ll explain.”

“How promising,” Neji said darkly. The man scurried off.

Fifteen minutes later and Neji found himself with a full refund that did nothing to soothe the knowledge that the hotel had overbooked its guests, assumed that Tenten was his wife, and then decided they would likely be comfortable sharing a room.

He had to take another long smoke break after that, dreading going up to the room where Tenten was sleeping to tell her what happened. 

Lord. They would have to share a room for who knew how long. What on earth was he going to say? ‘Tenten, you’ll be forced to share quarters for the next three days with me, your employer, and right after I’ve realized how enchanting I find you.’

Even inwardly, he flinched at the words. He’d spent so much time reflecting on Tenten this evening that she’d gone from being attractive to being enchanting.

But it was true, and in retrospect had always been true. Tenten provided a lightness and sense of freedom to his empty, caged life. He’d been drawn to her since he’d met her, first out of a form of friendship, and now… now-

He flicked out his cigarette and began the walk upstairs to their room.

---

Tenten was roused by the knocking on the door and hastily spilled from the bed, wondering what on earth could be going on at this hour- it was nearly two o’clock in the morning. She threw on her robe over her pajamas and tied it haphazardly, then yanked open the door, a defiant screech ready on her lips.

The sound died in the back of her throat when she saw Mr. Hyuga at the door, looking tired and unhappy. “I apologize for disturbing you, Tenten,” his eyes flicked over her robe and unbound hair. “But it seems that the hotel has made quite an error, and we only have the one room.”

She stared up at him for several long beats before his words sank in entirely. “Then- then what are we supposed to do?”

His mouth shifted into a grimace. “Well, that’s the worst part of it, really, because I’ve been told no other rooms will be open for the remainder of our stay.”

He reached up and pinched his brow. “But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, so it may be better if you remain in the room and I-”

She grabbed his arm and told him, “Sir, I’m not going to make you find somewhere else like that.”

“But-”

“We’ll figure it out,” she told him firmly, and pulled him into the room. She closed the door behind them and turned to look at him, realizing a little too late that the room was completely dark except for the lights glimmering through the window.

His eyes and forehead were cast into shadow, but she could see his cheekbones, nose, and mouth in the soft light. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, and Tenten watched the motion, fascinated.

“Well-” He began, and fell silent again. Tenten was suddenly aware that she was in her silk nightgown for sleeping that night, and couldn’t decide if she was disappointed or fervently glad that she was wearing her robe on top of it.

It was a shameful thought, but she was viewing him through different eyes lately and- and she wanted him to see her the same way.

He was her employer, but he was respectful and kind and he made her feel like she was clever and witty, with how often he laughed around her. And he was handsome- she’d only ever let herself notice it sparingly, but the first time she’d seen him, her heart had lodged in her throat.

So she wanted him to just look at her once, and find her beautiful, and she wanted to see it reflected in his face. And then she’d go back to her unhappy engagement and disinterested fiance.

Tenten picked back up with the conversation. “Sir, I can set up on the floor if-”

“No,” he said flatly. “I’m not letting you sleep on the floor. Take the bed, and I can take the floor-”

“You’re my employer, you can’t sleep on the floor!”

“Well, I’m not allowing you to sleep on the floor.”

She sputtered. “You- you can’t stop me!”

Unexpectedly, he smirked. 

Tenten narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you-”

She shrieked as he suddenly hoisted her up by her waist, took a few steps, and then tossed her- tossed her- onto the bed. She landed, bounced once, and whipped upright to glare at him.

He was plainly trying not to laugh, and doing a poor job of it. In retaliation, she grabbed the fabric of his waistcoat and firmly yanked him down next to her.

He landed a few feet from her with an oomph, looking surprised. She snickered at him, and he threw his hands in the air. “I suppose you got me back, then. But this doesn’t solve our problem.”

“Sure it does,” she told him. She indicated the space between them. “There’s plenty of room, sir, and we have extra pillows so we can put up some sort of barrier and… and-”

She couldn’t actually get the words out, despite her strong start. Mr. Hyuga was blushing a little, himself, but he finished for her. “Ah… share the bed?”

She nodded, fighting her own flush. “Y-yes. I know- it’s hardly conventional, or proper, but I- I think it’s our best option.”

He turned a fetching pink, but nodded. “I- well, I agree. I’ll go get ready for bed, if you would set up the- ah, barricade?”

Some of the ridiculousness of the situation caught up to her, and she giggled. “Right.”

He gave her a soft smile that looked almost tender in the muted lighting, then went over to the lavatory with his suitcase.

She stared after him, a little lovestruck- no, no, no, not love- admiration, perhaps- then grabbed extra pillows and formed them into a barrier going down the middle of the bed.

After that, she dithered. Did she wait up for him, say goodnight? Or should she hurry out of her robe and be under the covers before he came in?

The latter, she decided, and strode over to the spot where she’d hung up her robe before, then untied it with efficient movements. She hung it up, her nightgown swishing around her calves, then turned and started walking back towards the bed. She was two feet from it when the lavatory door swung open and Mr. Hyuga took half a step out, spotted her, and froze.

She did as well, and they stared at each other for several long moments before he coughed and looked away again. Tenten nearly threw herself into the bed and under the covers. 

He set down his suitcase again, then crossed over to the bed. He hesitated for several long moments, then pulled aside the covers and slipped in next to her.

She paused uncertainly for a few moments, then murmured, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Tenten,” he echoed. His voice, pitched low, rumbled out of his chest, and she nearly shivered hearing him speak her name in such a way.

Enough, she told herself firmly, and closed her eyes to sleep.

---

Neji woke up slowly, wondering why he felt so hot, then remembered the woman in his bed.

He turned slowly to look at her. She was still asleep on the other side of the pillow barricade, rolled to her side and facing him, and he took the opportunity to gaze at her unguarded.

Her expression was relaxed and soft, her brow untroubled for what felt like the first time in weeks. He stared at the way her eyelashes cast soft shadows over her cheeks, watched the movement of her lips as she breathed.

She stirred slightly, rolling a little more onto her back, and the covers shifted. Neji was abruptly reminded of the silken nightgown she was wearing, and his throat went dry.

He’d been struck dumb at the sight of her in it last night, and it seemed today was much the same- but he quickly turned away, and got carefully out of bed so as not to disturb her. 

He ducked into the bathroom and washed his face, then changed into his shirt and trousers. He rubbed his face with a grimace- a shave was in order, so he’d have to grab his razor and brush from his bag in the next room.

He rifled through his bag as quietly as he could- Tenten hadn’t stirred from the bed yet- then returned to the bathroom and started lathering up his face. 

He’d always found shaving to be rather meditative, and he took his time running his straight razor over his skin and flicking away the foam into the basin. Once he was finished, he leaned over and towelled off, then straightened back up and met Tenten’s gaze dead-on in the mirror.

She was watching him sleepily from the bed, blinking rapidly as she woke herself up. She seemed to realize she was staring a few moments later and looked embarrassed as she turned away. 

He smiled, amused, and started backing his shaving equipment away. “Good morning, Tenten.”

“Yes,” she agreed, which only widened his smile. He put on his waistcoat, then grabbed his suit coat. “I’m off for breakfast with the company owners, and then we’ll be going to a demonstration of their machinery. Would you like to eat with us, or shall I fetch you after?”

She reflected on it a moment, then said, “I’ll order room service here, sir, if that’s all right.”

“Of course.” He began walking towards the door, careful not to look over at the slight stretch of leg he could see uncovered. “I’ll send a runner once we’re almost finished, then meet you in the lobby. Until then, Tenten.” 

“Yes, sir.” He closed the door firmly behind him and headed down the stairs.

---

Tenten stared at the closed door, wondering over how Mr. Hyuga had looked while he was shaving- plain shirt, tucked in, his shoulders tightening and falling as he bent to rinse, the surety of his movements as he drew the blade over his skin-

She threw the duvet up over her head. What was happening to her? She allowed herself to consider him, once, as he was as a man, and now she couldn’t keep her gaze away.

And she liked it. She liked the feelings that admiring him gave her, the butterflies in her stomach, the curl of attraction in her gut, the rose-tinted glasses. Perhaps it was because she knew that he was unapproachable- he was her employer, as close as they were, and she was in an arranged engagement. He was a safe target, and projecting these feelings onto him wouldn’t amount to anything.

She dressed in her business attire as normal, but spent a little longer applying some powder and a little eyelash darkener before calling down to the front desk and ordering herself some breakfast.

She ate on the tiny balcony, watching the street below as people hurried to nowhere. Some late-morning slowly made its way out from behind the clouds and hit the front of the building, and she turned her head up to bask in it.

She heard a few men talking loudly from the street below and looked down to see. Much to her surprise, it was Mr. Hyuga and the three company owners. The other three gentlemen were talking boisterously to one another and gesturing wildly with their hands, but much to Tenten’s surprise (and slight pleasure) Mr. Hyuga was looking up at her, a slight smile on his face.

She waved, and he grinned back.

She went back inside to fetch her bag, then hurried down to the lobby to meet them. Mr. Condescending gave her a patronizing smile and said, “Ah, at last the little lady is joining us!”

His younger companion- McDugal, he was the only one whose name she had bothered to learn- gave her a half grimace as he shook her hand again. She was pleased to see the other man was still nervous to even look at her.

Mr. Hyuga offered her his arm, and she took it with a smile (and a swoop to her stomach). McDugal and his companions had two cars and drivers waiting for them, and the three owners loaded into one car and sent the two of them along in the other.

Tenten was sure it was a tactic to sway them further into the negotiations, but she enjoyed the car ride nonetheless. The driver had the top down, and the wind on her face was almost thrilling. 

Her hair was askew by the time Mr. Hyuga helped her out of the car again, but she just put her hat on and decided not to worry about it.

Mr. Hyuga was in just as high of spirits as she was, his expression relaxed as he guided her into the building with a light hand on the small of her back. He greeted the owners with a genuine smile, as opposed to his usual professional greeting. They were similar, yes- Mr. Hyuga could be rather stoic- but Tenten knew the difference by now. 

The owners turned the presentation over to the engineers, and they were given a brief tour of the lab facilities. Mr. Hyuga offered her his arm again, and she took it with an internal gleeful cackle.

Of course, he was just being polite, and for him it was merely a formality. 

But she’d savor it, even if he didn’t.

---

Neji only hoped that Tenten couldn’t feel his heart pounding as her hand curled delicately over the crook of his arm.

She had placed her other hand on top of her fingers so she was nearly clinging to him, and he could imagine that they looked almost like a couple.

They were dangerous thoughts, but he could smell her perfume and remembered what she’d looked like up on that balcony, happiness on her face as she turned to bask in the sun-

And her entire face had lit up when she had seen him below. He only hoped that she hadn’t spotted the adoration on his face at the sight of her.

After a certain point, Tenten was taking notes on the speakers, which meant she no longer was holding his arm- but she was diligently at his side for their entire tour, and almost (perhaps he was imagining it) leaned back against his hand when he put it on the small of her back to guide her around.

And he’d always known she was smart- she wouldn’t have been hired if she wasn’t smart- but she thoroughly impressed him with how easily she followed the engineer’s explanations on how their machinery specifically worked, and how it would aid the growth of the Hyuga factories in its mixing and combining process.

She asked insightful questions that pleased the head engineer so much that he was almost visibly disappointed when he saw the band around her finger.

When Neji remembered it himself, it felt as though he’d been doused in ice water. Tenten was engaged.

He went through the meeting in a much more sour mood after that, only half paying attention to the technical explanations- he didn’t have the education to understand most of it any way. Tenten was engaged, Tenten was engaged, Tenten was engaged-

He shook McDugal’s, Graham’s, and Traver’s hand with intentions to meet for a business meeting the next day, then he and Tenten used the company’s cars to get back to their hotel.

Neji helped Tenten out of the car almost robotically and strode towards the lobby, mind spinning around Sasuke, and Tenten, and the two of them, as a couple-

Tenten’s hand on his back stopped him short in his tracks, just on the edge of the light spilling from the streetlamp. “Sir,” she asked, dark eyes wide with concern, “Is everything all right?”

“Fine,” he said.

“No, it’s not. You’re upset about something, what is it?”

He examined her slowly, her heart-shaped face, the spread of her lashes and the barely-there unladylike freckles spilling across her nose and cheekbones, the part of her lips-

And he had made a mistake looking, because he dipped his head and kissed her.

---

It… it was…

Tenten didn’t know, for several long seconds, how she felt.

His mouth against hers was… nice. Pleasant, even. 

She leaned in, to double check, and then he tilted his head slightly and suddenly she was breathless.

She reached up and clutched at the fabric over his chest, clinging to him as his mouth moved over hers. She was- dizzy-

He put a careful arm around her waist, not pulling her closer, just… embracing her, cradling her to him, and the sensation of his kiss made her knees weaken-

Someone cleared their throat loudly next to them, and they jerked apart. The police man who was looking at them seemed very unamused. At their horrified expressions, he smiled smugly and puffed, “Move it along, then!”

He kept walking, seemingly sure they would break apart. 

Tenten slowly raised her head to meet Mr. Hyuga’s wide-eyed gaze. After a few beats, she whispered to herself, “Oh, no.”

---

Neji paced restlessly inside the smoking parlor- largely empty, he’d made sure- and fretted.

Tenten had pulled away from him with dread in her eyes and walked stiffly up to their room, where she’d told him she was going to get changed before meeting him in the hotel restaurant for dinner.

She clearly needed some time to herself, so he’d accepted and gone to the parlor to wait, and wear a hole in the carpet with his worried pacing.

How could he have done that? To take such an action towards his employee, a young woman with no guardian and no real way of protecting herself from any unwanted advances?

Not that- not that his advances were unwanted, exactly, if the way she had clung to him and the soft noises she had made were any indication-

But it shouldn’t have happened in the first place. He stopped short, rubbing the bridge of his nose in agitation, then pivoted to walk to the restaurant. Tenten would nearly be ready soon, and they could talk.

He waited just inside the main doors, glaring out at the other guests, when he heard Tenten say behind him, “Mr. Hyuga.”

“Tenten,” he greeted back, turning to look at her. His mouth went a little dry. 

She was wearing a muted red dress that was certainly less risque than many other things he’d seen women wearing, but it wasn’t a color he’d ever seen her wearing and it called to him. She’d arranged up her hair in a new, elegant style, and lined her eyes just the slightest amount.

The only thing he could think of to do was offer her his arm, and much to his relief she took it with no hesitation, and even smiled up at him.

They were seated in a quiet corner of the room, which meant that they had plenty of privacy to talk. Neji immediately had no idea what to say.

They ordered drinks and then sat drinking them in silence, pretending to read the menus while sneaking glances at one another. Finally Neji put his glass down and said, “I owe you an apology.”

She didn’t look up from where she’d been reading the same line for a minute straight. “What for?”

“I shouldn’t have… kissed you.”

“Why not?” She looked up and met his eyes, this time looking almost defiant.

Taken aback, he replied, “It was highly inappropriate.”

“Felt pretty good to me,” she said shortly. He flushed.

“I- it did?”

“Yes.” She swallowed a large gulp of wine and said, “I wanted you to.”

“Oh.” He tried not to grin at her- she wanted him to kiss her- and forced himself back towards professionalism. “But I am still your employer, and my behavior was-”

She put her glass down with a thump. “Professionally speaking, men shouldn’t kiss their secretaries.” He winced. “But personally speaking, I care for you quite a bit, and I did not feel as though you were taking any sort of advantage of me.”

His heart was beating very fast. “You… care for me?”

“I’d like to dance,” she said suddenly, her eyes burning into his. The band had just struck up a waltz. 

He stood and offered her his hand, then led her out to the dance floor with the other couples. They arranged themselves for the dance, and after a moment Neji slid his hand just a little closer to the small of her back than any platonic dance partner would do.

Tenten turned her cheek to rest against his shoulder in response, her hand squeezing his. She wasn’t wearing her ring, he realized suddenly, and he had no idea what to think.

He directed them towards the edge of the dance floor, closer to the more intimately shadowed areas of the room. She pressed closer against him, closed her eyes, and once more with hesitance he lowered his head to rest on hers.

She let out a soft noise but said nothing, so he allowed himself to hold the position as the dance continued. She smelled of vanilla, he realized, and his heart ached.

Tenten stirred a few minutes later, and he lifted his head so she could move from his shoulder. Much to his shock, she leaned up and kissed him- once, softly, just a few seconds- and then placed her head against his shoulder once again.

He nearly faltered in his steps but managed to keep them revolving slowly, wondering over her actions. A few moments later she laughed quietly and said, “Your heartbeat just skyrocketed.”

He flushed.

---

Tenten directed her smile down towards her plate rather than at Mr. Hyuga, not willing to show him how endearing she found his current awkwardness. 

She’d had time to think alone, after that first kiss, and it had grounded her. She wanted Mr. Hyuga- she wanted Neji- in whatever capacity he would have her, and would make it clear from then on.

And she thought that what he felt for her ran just as deep. He was just caught up in the part where he was technically her employer- but he was also one of her best friends, and he steadied her in her darker moments.

She glanced out of the corner of her eye at the spot where her ring had been. It was the only trepidation she had about becoming romantic with Neji- not that she was afraid of hurting Sasuke, she rather thought he wouldn’t care all that much- but because her mother had only ever wanted one thing from her, and Tenten couldn’t do it.

She couldn’t take any more of the silence between them- Neji was still walking around looking faintly bewildered- so she looked up at him and said, “So, will the Hyuga company be accepting the new machinery as part of their industrial process?”

He blinked slowly. “I think so. I’ll have to send my- well, really, they’re your notes to the main offices, but from what I understood they could be an excellent addition.” He took a bite of his chicken, looking more at ease at the talk of business, then looked at her again. “You seemed to follow along with their explanations quite well.”

“Yes.” A little nervous, she confessed to him, “I’d wanted to be an engineer for a long time when I was growing up, but- they don’t let girls do things like that.”

He nodded slowly, then reached his hand across the table to grasp hers. “You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met,” he told her, completely serious. She ducked her chin.

“I mean it,” he pressed. “You speak multiple languages, you have the knowledge and understanding to be an engineer, you’re the best secretary I’ve ever had-”

“You’ve only had two and one was just your cousin getting trained, by me I might add-”

“And you’re witty and learn quickly-”

“I’m already half in love with you, there’s no need to flatter me,” she told him. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip in regret after she said it, but she’d made up her mind. She was being honest.

He looked- overjoyed. “I love you,” he said, the words spilling from his lips so fast she almost couldn’t understand him.

She ducked her head to hide her smile again, but he cupped her jaw in his hand and lifted her gaze to meet his again.

They stared at each other for several long moments, before Tenten told him, “I’d like to dance.”

---

It was a spot meant for furtive couples- which is what they were, in a way, but they were also just sitting and talking quietly, their heads close together and their hands entwined in Neji’s lap.

After their second dance, they’d split the chocolate cake that Tenten had liked so much for dessert, then danced again, and again, until she’d murmured about tired feet and led him out into the gardens.

They’d been deep in conversation ever since, talking about their childhoods and schoolwork, their old friends and hobbies, and anything else they could think of. He wanted to know everything about her that had been an off-limits topic before.

He was careful around the topic of her mother and her engagement, but she surprised him with her candidness.

“It’s all she ever wanted for me, I think,” she whispered, staring across the manicured lawn to the fountain. “She thought that marriage would be the best security I could have, and so she took the steps to make sure it would happen for me. I’m sure Mikoto Uchiha was just as thrilled to have a ready-made bride for her son.”

He thought of Sasuke and unintentionally clenched her hands tighter in his. She turned to look at him, looking trepidatious.

“She wanted you to be happy,” he murmured, stroking his thumb over her knuckles. She nodded and looked back over the garden. 

“I’m not marrying Sasuke,” she whispered to herself with finality. It was a statement that was meant for herself, but he was still glad to hear it. He kissed her hand.

She gave him a soft look, and the conversation moved on.

Every so often, one of them- usually Tenten- would lean in and kiss the other, derailing the conversation for a few seconds. Well, at first it had been seconds, but the later kisses wound up stretching more into the ‘minutes’ end of the spectrum.

He had to pull away for a few moments to catch his breath back and Tenten immediately leaned forward to bury her face against his neck. 

He shivered, then groaned as she started pressing open-mouthed kisses up and down his skin, separating one of her hands from his so she could slide her fingers up into the hair at the nape of his neck and scratch her nails against his scalp.

It was too much and not enough at the same time, and he gasped into her hair, “You’re insatiable.”

“Try me,” she whispered back, and sealed her mouth over his again.

---

Tenten woke up slowly, a pleasant warmth and support at her back. She turned her head to look at Neji, sleeping peacefully on his back just behind her. 

They’d done away with the pillow barrier of the night before in favor of unhindered contact- though Neji had seemed quite adamant about said contact falling only into the realm of kissing.

She was still a little pouty about it- she’d wanted to get his shirt off, at the very least, and maybe hers as well. 

She’d taken comfort in drawing her hands over those shoulders she’d admired so much, digging her fingers in slightly and savoring his ragged gasps. Their move from the garden to their room was marked by a significant increase in intensity, and she’d dared to slide her hands under his shirt to rest over his back. And she’d raked her nails down his back, a little.

He was just so sensitive to everything she did. It was fun.

He’d eventually persuaded her to go to bed, so they’d changed into their sleepwear- separately- and then gotten into bed. It only took about five minutes of Neji running his hand through her hair as she rested her head against his shoulder for her to fall asleep.

So now she had a decision- did she wake him up, or just stare at him for a while?

She chose to stare at him, admiring the aristocratic arch of his features in the morning light. He was handsome.

She finally sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed to get up, but a casual arm looped around her waist and brought her back to Neji’s side, sending her spiralling into giggles. 

He buried his face into the crook of her neck and muttered, “Stay in bed.”

“I have to get dressed,” she protested weakly. “We’re meeting with the owners at twelve o’clock for lunch.”

“So? That’s hours from now.” He kissed her neck. “We’ll order room service for breakfast in a little while and eat on the balcony.”

“We’ll need to dress for that, you know.”

“Ten minutes,” Neji murmured, and suddenly flipped her over onto her back.

---

They were eating breakfast on the balcony half an hour later, fully dressed and in very good moods. They sat with their chairs pulled close together and their heads bent towards one another, talking in low voices and watching the people below.

Tenten leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, listening to the bustle from the street. Neji put his arm around her waist and sipped his tea with a small smile on his face.

They needed to leave soon, so he got her attention by dipping his head down to kiss her. He could feel her lips curling into a smile, and she settled her hand on his jaw.

He pulled away and murmured, “We’d best be off.”

“Blah,” she muttered, and pulled him in for another few kisses before she consented to leaving.

They met at the company headquarters that day, and he as Tenten took her seat he turned, still standing, to address the trepidatious-looking owners. “Well, gentlemen, the Hyuga Company is interested in adapting your machinery for our factories.”

There was a chorus of excited chatter. Tenten pulled out her notebook and pen, then glanced up at him to show she was ready. He gave her a slight smile and turned to the owners. “Shall we discuss particulars, so I may send information to the board and head of the company?”

They worked their way through the first draft of a contract for the next hour, with Tenten diligently writing everything down. Once they had a version they all approved of- subject to revision by the Hyuga Company board of directors- Tenten typed both parties up a copy on the typewriter available and handed them out.

“Thank you very much, gentlemen,” Neji told them, accepting his copy from Tenten with an extra brush of his fingers. “I look forward to corresponding with you more in the future as partners.” It was true for McDugal, at least.

They all stood and shook hands with him, and McDugal offered Tenten a handshake too, as his co-owners gathered their things and ignored her (and frankly, if they couldn’t be courteous then Neji was glad they left well enough alone.)

They had wrapped things up a day early, Neji was surprised to note as he and Tenten walked back to the outside of the building, and their train tickets weren’t until the day after next. He watched as Tenten descended the steps to the cab, eyeing her hips absently before remembering himself.

They’d find something to do, he was sure of it.

He took his seat next to Tenten in the car, and the driver started heading back to their hotel. Tenten turned to him and said, “I’m starved; can we go to lunch?”

“Of course,” he replied. “Have you any place you’d like to go?”

She hummed, tilting her head in thought. “We should ask the concierge.”

“Yes,” he said conversationally, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm, “We have had a great deal of success with him.”

She laughed. “If you have any better ideas-”

“None whatsoever.”

“Let’s ask, then!”

“Mm…” She laughed again at his affected doubt, and he couldn’t help smiling at the noise- and knowing he was the cause of it.

“Well, I’m going to ask, and you can just tag along then.” She put her chin on his shoulder and grinned up at him.

“Fine,” he told her, and kissed her nose. 

---

Being in a reciprocated love was nice, Tenten thought.

After lunch, she and Neji had gone to the Saint Louis Art Museum and slowly walked through the exhibits, discussing them, and then Tenten had been so invested in some of them that she insisted they go to a library and read more. 

They’d had a wonderful afternoon, all in all, and walked back to the hotel at a leisurely stroll. 

“We have another day,” Neji said, escorting her over a puddle, “So is there anything else you’d like to do while we’re here?”

“I don’t know the city very well,” she replied, tucking herself back against his side. “We could ask-”

“The concierge,” he finished for her, to her tinkling laughter. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you fancy him, my dear.”

“He’s not quite my type, I don’t think,” she said. She bumped her hip gently against his. 

Tenten went to their room to change while Neji got some information from the (very grudging) concierge. After a moment of thought, she grabbed the airy, summery blue dress she’d worn earlier- the one Neji had called her lovely in, and took off her current gray blouse to begin changing.

The door opened suddenly, and she whirled, protectively holding her discarded blouse over her brassiere and torso. Neji stood in the doorway, gaping at her, one hand still on the handle. 

The only thing she could think of to say was, “For heaven’s sake, get in and close the door!”

He did, face burning, and turned to face it as he latched it. “I- I apologize, I should have knocked-”

“Yes, you should have!”

“I- yes, I know, I apologize-”

“Turn around,” she demanded. He did so, eyes sealed shut.

She cast her blouse aside, baring herself in only her brassiere and skirt. “Look at me.”

His eyes flickered, then opened.

She stared into them, memorizing their color and the way they looked upon her. He was beautiful, and he loved her.

“Kiss me,” she said, and he did.

(Many hours later, she whispered into the dark, “Oh, we never had dinner.” 

Neji stirred at her side, rolling over and fumbling with something on the nightstand. She saw his hand raise, holding a pocket watch, and he held it up to the dim light from the window. 

“It’s nearly eleven o’clock,” he rumbled. “We’ll have to just wait until breakfast.” He set the watch aside and rolled back over, and once more she settled her arm across his bare waist.

He slid their hands together, playing with her fingers a little, and she tangled her legs with his. After a moment, she mused, “I didn’t realize lovemaking can take so long.”

Neji sputtered.

“Not that it wasn’t nice,”she added, grinning.

“‘Nice’?”

“I said what I said,” she told him. He muttered to himself for a few moments, then said huffily, “We’ll practice more tomorrow, then.”

“Deal.” She kissed his jaw.)

---

After a day spent meandering around the botanical garden, then their early evening spent once more in the library to do further research (he adored her), they dressed in the finest clothes they had packed and went for dinner and dancing at the Mayfair.

Tenten was a wonderful dancer, light on her feet and giddy with the music. Neji normally disliked dancing, but with her as his partner he found it exhilarating. He’d learned quite a few dances as part of his upbringing, but they were all formal and stately- nothing like the instructions Tenten was whispering in his ear that echoed the steps of the younger couples around them.

She was so close to him, just a few breaths away from pressing the front of her body against his. If her tight, shifting grip on his shoulder was any indication, she was just as aware of it as he was, and enjoying it.

It was nearly midnight by the time they returned to the hotel- and their train left at eight-thirty in the morning the following day, so they wouldn’t be able to sleep as much- but that didn’t stop Tenten from pressing insistently against him and telling him to undress her.

When she was resting against him later, nose tucked against his collarbone, she told him that this time, it had even been wonderful.

He’d palmed the curve of her hip in response, fighting back the urge to gloat over the praise. 

---

Tenten was cross.

Intellectually, she’d known they’d have to return from St. Louis, but it had been such a wondrous experience, and so much had changed for the better, that she wanted to stay there, where things were perfect.

So yes, she was cross at having to leave, and Neji was cranky over waking up so early (he’d gotten up at dawn to send a few telegrams), and they were sniping at one another just a little bit on the cab ride to the train station. Tenten had resorted to a pouty silence that probably came across as a normal silence. 

She felt marginally better when Neji draped his coat over her shoulders in the chill of the train car, and gave him a under-the-lashes smile of gratitude that she mostly meant him to miss. He saw it, of course, and his returning smile swung her mood all the way into happy again.

They sat side-by-side this time in the seat, idly playing pen-and-paper games to pass some of the time. After Neji’s seventh consecutive win at hangman, Tenten resorted to using French words. 

They stopped playing once lunch arrived and it necessitated Neji moving to the seat across so they had enough arm room to eat. Tenten kept his coat over her shoulders and stretched her feet across the hidden space beneath the tabletop to run them up Neji’s calf. 

She cuddled back up against him after lunch, their sides pressing together as Neji read the paper and she her book. She could tell he was turning something over in his mind as he read, but waited patiently for him to bring it up himself.

They were pulling into the stop before their station- and were some of the last people in the passenger car- when Neji put down his paper and turned to kiss her temple slowly, his eyes drifting out the window.

“Neji?” She prompted quietly. His lips curled into a smile, as they always had every time she’d called him by his name- an almost involuntary response, it seemed. 

“I was just thinking...” he said slowly into her hair. “How will- you are still engaged to Sasuke, technically.”

It suddenly felt as though Tenten was at the end of a very long, narrow tunnel. “Yes,” she agreed, her voice tinny to her ears.

He continued hesitantly, “What are your plans towards that regard?”

She was engaged to a man she knew nothing about, and completely in love with the man who was her employer. Her mother wanted her married off to the former, but Tenten’s own heart ached for marriage with the latter.

And that was the exact reason she had done her best to avoid this type of conversation with Neji- she had no idea if he felt the same way. He loved her, she was sure, but he’d made no inclination of wanting marriage. And it made Tenten feel panicky and stupid- she’d let him in her bed, and wanted him there, there could be no doubt of that, but she was no longer a virgin and there was no reason to believe that there would be any marriage to compensate.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat and told him, “I plan to meet with Sasuke and dissolve our agreement, with our lawyers present.” And then she didn’t know what would happen. She would take anything Neji would give her.

“You engagement is a formal, legal affair, then, if you have to have your lawyers present.”

“Not exactly,” she corrected, “It’s just better to have them there, as we did technically instigate the arrangement on the basis of Mikoto Uchiha’s death wishes- not in a will, but still significant.”

“But not a legal obligation?” He clarified.

“No.”

“So you won’t be in breach of any sort of contract when we elope.”

She yanked her head off his shoulder to look at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“Not to worry,” he said, a little smug. “We’ll work it out.”

“No, I am not taking that as an answer-” The had reached their stop, and Neji was quick to pull away from her and rise to his feet. He offered his hand to her, but all she could do was gape at him.

He grinned. “Very well, then, I’ll fetch our luggage and you meet me by our cab when you’re ready.” He departed, looking very pleased with himself.

She sat, shocked, for several minutes before she surged to her feet and raced to find him. Sure enough, he was waiting near the cab entry, their luggage at his feet, with a smirk still adorning his face.

She stopped in front of him, her face red, and puffed out, “You-”

“Cab’s here,” he said blithely, and hustled her in before helping the driver with the luggage. 

The driver sat back in the car and said, “Where to, sir?” Tenten reached for the hotel address she had placed safely in her pocket, but Neji produced his own and passed it forward before she got the chance. She turned back to him and began, “Neji, you-”

“Let’s discuss it later, shall we?” He offered, his eyes bright and pleased with himself. Tenten’s heart pounded in her chest- so he wanted to marry her after all- and she huffed. “Fine,” she said, “But you’d better have a very detailed explanation.”

He smiled and clasped her hand in his. “Of course, my dear.”

One long cab ride later and she was frowning at the surroundings around them- she couldn’t spot their hotel anywhere, just some larger houses and an old church. Absently, she spun around to keep looking. “Neji, are you sure this is the right address…?” 

He was speaking to the cab driver through the window, and whatever the man had said seemed to please him. He stepped back and noticed her questioning look, but only grinned and tucked her hand against his arm before pulling her along.

“Our luggage?” She reminded him. Undeterred, he pressed onward. “The driver agreed to wait.”

More confused than ever, she muttered, “What on earth is going on?”

“You’ll see,” was his cryptic response, and then they were ducking into the church.

Three steps in and she stopped short, her hand limply falling from Neji’s clasp as she gaped at the occupants inside the church. Neji turned to look at her, his expression an odd mix between happiness and trepidation.

And she knew why- Hinata threw her a little wave from where she was standing next to the pastor, and Lee waved his entire body at her enthusiastically from where he stood across the aisle. There were flowers strewn all down the aisle and candles arranged artfully all over the room.

She finally turned to meet Neji’s gaze again, completely unable to think. He smiled at her, slow and tender, and whispered, “Will you marry me?”

She bit her lip, reaching her hand out towards him as her eyes watered. “Yes,” she managed, and he grinned as he took her hand in his. 

---

Neji walked out of the church a married man, feeling the most light-hearted he ever had. At his side, Tenten hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d walked into the church and she’d realized what was happening.

They got back into the cab, with Hinata and Lee waving wildly behind them with intentions to join them on the train ride back the next day. Tenten turned to him and, fingers curled around his, demanded, “How on earth did you set that up?”

He grinned, completely satisfied with himself. “Those telegrams I sent this morning were for Hinata and Lee, respectively. I figured you’d want him as one of the witnesses, and I wanted Hinata, so they arrived by train earlier this afternoon and set things up for us.”

She placed her head on his shoulder and gripped his hand tighter, running her fingers over the band now resting securely over his ring finger. “You’re lucky I wanted to marry you, then, after all those plans.”

“The luckiest man in the world,” he murmured, and kissed her. He held her hand up to admire her ring in the light- his maternal grandmother’s, one of the few things he had that wasn’t from the Hyuga family. It was a beautiful ring, and he only hoped it would complement the woman who now wore it.

She ducked her head, seemingly shy at his statement, but her smile was so wide she might as well have been yelling with joy. Neji reached out and tugged her over to rest against his shoulder, his hand warm over the back of her neck.

---

Hinata took another dainty sip of tea to hide her smile as she watched her cousin fidget over his own cup, his eyes locked on the couple seated across the street. He was clearly doing his best to put on a calm air, but the impatient bouncing of his foot betrayed his nerves.

“It will be fine,” she reminded him gently.

“I know,” he replied instantly, not even sparing her a look.

“She’s married.”

“Yes.”

“To you.”

“Yes.”

“They had an arranged, unemotional engagement that had barely been confirmed.”

“Yes, but they were engaged based on the wishes of his deceased mother, he’s hardly going to take it well-”

“I thought you agreed it would be fine?” She teased softly.

He jerked his head around to meet her eyes, scowling, and she giggled. He was about to retort when the pair across the street stood up and shook hands, seemingly wrapped up with their business. 

Neji visibly swallowed as the woman made her way across the street to them, the man watching her with an odd look on his face and his arms folded over his chest. He abruptly smirked, visible even from their distant vantage point, and waved his hand in a sardonic greeting.

Hinata glanced at her cousin and found him glaring back at the man, their eye contact hostile, but Neji yanked his gaze away as his wife stalked up to the table and smacked a stack of paper in front of him.

He stared up at her, wide-eyed, as she sat down next to him, then gave him a decidedly frosty look. “Care to explain?” she asked him, venom in her voice. Hinata took a thoughtful sip of her tea.

Neji thumbed through some of the papers in front of him, then suddenly stopped. He coughed. “Ah. That.”

“Yes,” Tenten said dangerously, “that.” She drummed her fingers impatiently on the table, staring at him, and Hinata ducked her chin to hide her smile at her cousin and his wife’s interactions. She herself found them both quite intimidating sometimes, but they felt no such way towards one another. 

Neji coughed again, embarrassed, and the silence drew out. Hinata’s curiosity grew ever stronger but she kept her inquiries to herself, sure that Tenten would get an answer out of Neji eventually.

He finally stopped pretending to be wrapped up in the papers and looked up at Tenten with a contrite look. She was unmoved.

“It was just after you confessed to me that you had no desire to marry Uchiha,” he said. “I was quite upset with him for imposing so much upon you. I wrote the letter immediately after our conversation and sent it before I could think differently of it.”

“It never occurred to you it was a stupid idea?” Tenten asked flatly, yanking the papers back towards herself and shoving them back into her file.

“Not at the time, dearest.” There was a placating tone to Neji’s voice that made Hinata fight back a giggle, as he tentatively reached out to clasp his wife’s hand in his own. Tenten was still scowling, but she let him.

“In any case,” Neji continued, brushing his thumb over her knuckles, “I hope it didn’t cause you any trouble.”

“It’s going to cause you trouble,” she snipped. “I’m terribly angry at you now.” So saying, she squeezed his hand in hers before pulling away to pour herself some tea. Neji sat back to his own cup, looking very pleased with himself, and Hinata asked, “So, your meeting with Mr. Uchiha was, um, successful?”

Tenten’s smile was wry. “Well, I’m no longer engaged to one man and married to another.”

“...because we’re getting divorced,” Neji told Hinata stoically. He then turned back to his newspaper. 

Hinata blinked rapidly between them, disbelieving. She couldn’t read Tenten’s expression as the other woman sipped her tea, but she made no effort to correct him. Her chest began to hurt, and she croaked out, “You’re… what?”

Tenten placed her cup down with a loud clink. “Seriously, Neji, don’t make jokes.” 

Her cousin- that absolute ass- chuckled to himself. Tenten turned back to Hinata, a more reassuring look on her face, and told her, “Of course we’re not getting divorced. But my engagement to Sasuke is officially over, with no problems.”

“Except that letter,” Neji mumbled to himself.

“Yes, but that’s going to be a problem for you, love,” Tenten told him sweetly. “I’m going to make sure of it.”

“What letter?” Hinata finally asked timidly. Tenten reached into her file and pulled out the papers that had made Neji so uncomfortable and plopped them down in front of her.

Hinata recognized her cousin’s handwriting and her curiosity only grew. She scanned the paper- but abruptly found herself having to focus all of her attention on it, given how- volatile the contents were.

She read the last few sentences a few times over to make sure she’d interpreted them correctly- she couldn’t believe that Neji of all people would even dare to write these thoughts down, much less send them.

She jerked her head up to gape at Neji, but he was steadfastly ignoring her in favor of flushing down at his newspaper. Tenten looked smug. 

Hinata futilely tried to think of something to say, but words failed her. She had to settle for squeaking reprimands at Neji, who looked properly abashed despite the fact she hadn’t used any words.

“In any case,” Tenten said smoothly, tucking the letter away again, “I’m officially, utterly yours, Neji.” There was a brush of sincerity to her words that made Hinata feel both happy for the newlyweds and awkward to be there during such could-be tender moment. 

Neji only smiled, flipping the page of his newspaper while meeting Tenten’s gaze steadily. “Oh, good. It was getting uncomfortable to have an engaged young lady living in my house with no chaperone.”

“I bet,” Tenten agreed, and smiled back.

Hinata beamed at them both. “Well, I’m glad things went well.”

Tenten grinned, and Hinata could see how much more at ease she was compared to the morning, when she’d been disguising her nerves with a bite in her voice. “I am too. I still have a honeymoon to cash in, and now I can do it in clear conscience.” 

Neji put aside his newspaper to smile at her. “Greece,” he said, eyes looking steadily at Tenten’s flushed face. “Or France.”

“Greece or France,” Tenten agreed softly.

They smiled at one another for several more moments before turning away again, Tenten to her book and Neji to his paper. Hinata watched, feeling overwhelmingly happy for her cousin, as they both reached out at the same time to join hands while they read.

[driftwork]

a port story [1]

[ I am reasonably certain I will never go to Lisbon again, the only aspect of Portugal that will come into my life now are humans who have migrated here for social-political-economic reasons, which is the only reason anyone moves anywhere] I had never been to the city before and was intending to spend a few days there before traveling north. The hotel was a nice business hotel, the room anonymous and comfortable. I wandered around the city and was going to a restaurant in one of the nice squares,  neither of the names, the restaurant or the square matter, forgotten as they are, obscured by passing time.  The restaurant I remember  had comfortable chairs, mirrors on the walls, wooden tables, round, square and a few triangular tables, the cuisine was mix of international and local Portuguese.  Some of the international dishes were served with a delicate local reinterpretation, a few clams added, a red wine sauce reimagined with local fortified wine.  Either way I have fond memories of the place.  I think I took a bus from the square the hotel was in, or perhaps I walked, I am unsure. Let's say it was a bus with aluminum poles wrapped in yellow reinforced plastic tape that took me to the district, the square. Which was full of people, adults and children. It was early evening, before seven. I was early as the table was booked for eight. We had agreed to meet in the restaurant at eight, she would be on time, she was always on time, arriving in the district early and meandering slowly so that she would arrive ontime.  I had an hour to use so I went to an old cafe on the east side of the square, the sunlight poured like liquid gold onto the front of the cafe, crawling under the old sun-bleached awnings. The cafe served a vast array of different drinks, it had various types of billiard tables and a pinball machine with images celebrating yuri gagarian’s test flights and a trip around the moon. i ordered  a glass of Marsala and an espresso, and started watching a game of bar billiards being played between two old grey haired men,  one of the old men was using a walking stick to support his weaker left leg, clear blue eyes, his hair cut short and he was evenly matched with his friend,  he was hitting the pins and sinking balls with the sharp eyes of a professional billiards predator. Do you want a game ? He asked. No I replied, I cannot play bar billiards, though if you like and can tell me the rules as we play, honestly, we could play for who pays for the glass of port? He smiled at me, where are you from? Overseas?  A bit, I admitted carefully. Where from, Catus Minor, I said. I don’t know where that is, he said.  The south end of the  Haydes. That’s strange, still never heard of it, but there are so many new countries these days. He said scratching his head and then polishing his cure. So what’s your name? Petr, I said in english with the purely english home counties accent. Petr is the short version that friends and people call me. So youré baptised, a christian he said. Oh no,  we are all atheists in my family and culture. There are lots of deities here, but on Catus Minor there are none, nobody knows why. It's said that gods only exist here in  the entire galaxy… Really? he waved the waiter over and ordered drinks. I know what you need, a beautiful african, good price, about 19 or 20 from Mozambique, just arrived.  No thanks my partner would be upset, and besides I have to meet some people at the restaurant over the square, I said paused, so I have no time for girls or boys either.  So what are you doing here then?  I am meeting a woman and perhaps her husband in the restaurant.  I thought about lighting a cigarette, <cigarettes in those days were harmless again>  but decided not to, i am looking for a man and they may be able to help me. I am just here killing time. Just a second, why are you looking for the man? What for? he asked intensely.  Maybe nothing,  I simply lost track of him and need to connect with him again. I have come all this way from Catus Minor just to look for him,  i would like to speak to him again, its pretty urgent. So i have this appointment in the restaurant, its full of mirrors and memories. I have never been, it has triangular tables,  i  hope we will sit at such a table. I have never been before. Sounds quite exciting, he said, are you paying? no we’ll be splitting the bill, they have money i believe. Is it a place for fascists? He asked. Probably as its expensive, though they aren’t. I left him with the port and walked around the edges of the square to the restaurant…[We met when we were young whilst working in a decorating chain store that sold paint and wallpaper and the usual tools, paint brushes, poisons chemicals and so on. I think we were both about 20 or 21, he had recently got married to his deeply neurotic girlfriend, how could he be married at such a young age you might think, people simply did that in that place at that time.  Later though,  not that much later he became a near-legendary troublemaker primarily in the micro-political realm. At that time to be political, to be a socialist meant that you were focused on the micro-political as the enemy had almost filled the macro-political realm with lessor variants of themselves. Before that he’d originated from the mid-west, in a German high school there, to be in that private school meant you would probably be taught by anti-capitalist teachers and going to the German High school meant you knew of the world, that you’d go on trips across the Atlantic to Berlin, New York and Paris. Whereas people like me going to a Secondary Modern school on the outskirts of London were going to a terrible anti-intellectual school staffed by imbeciles who hated us and themselves  —— in this place we were taught about the history of the local monarchs, the great men of history discourses that the imbeciles liked. Now that I think of it in those days there were still teachers who left to travel to the colonies and ex-colonies to preach and convert. Others who were ex-colonials explaining how good the empire was for everyone.  A few years later, i remember it well, in a cafe in north London, their children were still explaining that American, French and Belgium colonialism was worse, they were children and couldn't count. Not long after that these same people decided to start murdering people again.  Eventually I took the line of flight as far away as I could travel, whilst he continued to drift around europe.  When we  finally separated we still spent a few summer vacations in various cities and seaside towns, Italy, south western France, the Balkans.  He dreamed of painting, his output consisting mostly of windows with shutters, still lives, iron bars, plastic frames and occasionally lace curtains that hinted at humans hiding, mostly from themselves behind the lace.  When he stopped painting or drawing we would go for a walk. It was on the last of these walks, the last time we were together that he said, someday if I kill myself, I'll do it slowly, as if I have a terminal illness over a six month or year long period, saying delirious goodbyes from the hospital bed. Did he do that, is my search in vain?]

When I arrived at the restaurant they were already sitting at a triangular table with a small crystal pitcher full with vodka martini, slices of lemon floating, there were three martini glasses on the table, theirs not quite full, mine empty. She poured some of the perfect liquid into my glass.  Hello, I said, how ae you?  They looked neutrally at my face, you look younger than we expected she said. Its the relativity effect. Time passes more slowly during space travel, even now. A friend is always a friend, he said philosophically. We exchanged small talk, briefly touching on the stories of our lives. The events, music, images and stories, the politics, communities and cultures we had passed through in the recent past.  I told them about the media at home, they told me about how their local right-wing discourse had become dominant by allowing itself to be subculturized, falsified and socialized.  They were, (I remember sitting there sipping the drink,) database animals... their social values and standards were always dysfunctional, which is why they felt a pressing need to  construct alternative values and standards. Eventually this faded away and it had become clearer who we were. Only then, when it may have become impossible, we began to talk about the reason why  I wanted to meet them... Eventually after  they explained about the suicide, the leap from the 22nd floor onto the plaza in the middle of the night. Wait, I said,  where was he buried? where are his remains I asked.  But most of all I wanted to know  what were his motives ? why ? We don't know his personal motives, he never told us about his personal motives for anything.  You must have known something, was he depressed, mad, pregnant, you had eyes to see the state of things?  He stroked his beard and eyebrows,  a strangely neutral and yet erotic gesture directed I thought at her.  He poured some more martini into his glass, ordered some more liquor. But they couldn't say anymore.  They couldn't say where he was buried, nor even how his body was dealt with, did someone inherit his kidney, heart, eyes, liver?  Cremated, buried, frozen... I ate  pan fried fish,  fried sweet potato chips,  some forgotten vegetables, an unmemorable desert.  They disappeared into Brasil.  Days later as I prepared to leave Lisbon  the doubts crept in,  I thought, that perhaps,  I should confirm he was dead by speaking to some other people, perhaps their were some family members still living in the  house in S.Ware,  I couldn't remember the number, the street must look the same though. Perhaps he is still alive.  That's all there is.... I had six months after all before the ship was leaving for home and needed to fill my time with something... [for Armando]

[thatonedaydream]

Next to you (part 3)

In an AU where Regis has passed away of old age and the mantle of king has fallen to Noctis only recently, you’re a regular citizen of Insomnia who’s managed to move into a new place with a friendly neighbour who you never see. part 1 | part 2 |

Summary: Looking back makes you regret, but a new friend helps you look forward.

You shouldn’t have looked. Social media and curiosity were a bad mix. It was even worse that you checked in the morning because—fuck it—why not run your emotions into the ground from the start of the day?

At first, you felt like it was okay. Good for your ex for moving on. Sure it was someone you suspected they were seeing behind your back, but okay—you know—you’re over that. You don’t want them back. You don’t want them to be anywhere close to you—but it was like a pin that dug into paper-thin membrane, wriggling around and around to make the hole bigger and bigger, tearing down that make-shift wall you had built up to push the negative thoughts back so you could get shit done to try and move on.

You found yourself standing in the kitchen, thinking to make breakfast, but some dark and oppressive worm burrowed deep into your gut and ruined your appetite. Were they happy? They looked happy. You should be happy for them, you didn’t miss your ex, so why did it feel like you did? What was this bad and awful thing you were feeling?

Before you knew it you were out the door of your apartment and stalking the streets of Insomnia. It was busy as it always was on a weekend. You stalked the streets like fire followed your heels.

It was spite. That’s what the feeling was. It was spite. Hateful and brooding and upsetting and it crawled from the pits of your stomach, clutching at your chest, bringing bile up into your throat.

You stopped at a quiet cafe in a backstreet somewhere and ordered a coffee—black—because somehow the bitter taste poetically matched how bitter you were feeling inside. There were a few people inside the little shop and no one outside, so you decided to settle outdoors alone with your bitter, hateful coffee in the shadows of the tall buildings around you and hard cobbled street beneath.

It was when you stopped that you felt a tear slip down your cheek. You covered your eyes with a hand, head down, elbow on the table. Six-fucking-damn-shitty—it was spite, but somehow it hurt. It ripped a hole in you and suddenly everything seemed like too much and everything stemmed from them. Did you even like this new job? Did the people there actually like you? You had left all your friends because of them. No one really checked up on you. No one cared.

What was the point? What was the—

“Excuse me?” A pale hand gently tapped the table next to your own hand to get your attention. The voice was careful but caring. “My apologies, but are you alright?”

You looked up at the young woman who waited patiently for you to respond because you couldn’t find the words to answer her question. “No one’s asked me that in a while.” You croaked and scrunched up your face as you cried in earnest. Finally.

To the stranger’s credit, she didn’t seem alarmed or scared. It didn’t even seem like she pitied you. “May I sit with you? I understand if it is too intrusive.” Again, the woman waited for you to respond with perfectly practised patience.

It was embarrassing to cry in front of a stranger. It made you want to crawl into a hole and die and disappear and be forgotten, but—you didn’t want to be alone. You didn’t want to be by yourself. When you nodded, the woman carefully pulled out a chair and slid into the seat with grace. She wore a simple sundress with a big straw hat, matching sunglasses and a sheer shawl. Her blonde hair was tied back in a loose braid that sat over her shoulder. This woman sat with such poise that you weren’t sure if she was local or not.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffled as you tried to stem your tears by pressing the sleeves of your shirt over your eyes. While they slowed, they hadn’t stopped. You probably looked a mess.

“Whatever for?” The blonde shook her head. “Cry all you like. Sometimes it is a long cry that we need to set things right.” She smiled softly at you. Her lips were pink and slightly glossy. “I have not visited this area of the city in a long time. It is quite different.”

So she was visiting. For a little while longer, you quietly sobbed. A waiter came and went with the stranger’s order and the two of you continued to sit in a comfortable wordless silence. She checked her phone every now and then but otherwise seemed content to carefully observe her surrounding as if she were trying to spot the differences of when she had visited last and the present.

When your tears finally stopped, you took a gulp of your now cold coffee and sighed. “I did an awful thing and looked up what my ex has been up to. I don’t know what I was expecting.”

The blonde put down her phone and hummed. “Do you miss them?” She leaned forward conspiratorily.

“Hell no.” You laughed, though it was a cold, unfeeling kind of sound. “No—I think I’m mad to see they’ve moved on. I know I should be happy for them, but I just—” You paused. This person would think you’re crazy if you told them how you really felt.

The woman laughed delicately behind her hand. “It is easier to speak honestly with a stranger than someone you know.” She lowered her sunglasses a little to peer at you with vibrant blue eyes before pushing them back in place. “I promise I will not tell a soul.” Her lips curled into a playful smile and you felt like you could trust her.

“I just want them to suffer.” You finished. “I worked so hard, I spent so much, I wasted so much with them to get nothing back. How dare they be happy after the wreck they left me in.” You felt your throat tightening again. “They’ve found someone else and I know they’ve put in so much more effort with them than they did with me. Fuck—” You choked on your words again. The more you thought about it, the less and less you missed your ex and you never missed your ex. “I’m just so mad. I want everything they do to be a struggle because I fucking struggled after everything was over.”

The blonde listened to you and nodded slowly. “I see.” What else could she say? She probably thought you were crazy and still hung up on your ex, but that wasn’t it— “I am so sorry that they have hurt you so deeply.”

What?

“You mustn't let them continue to treat you this way—whatever ghosts they have left behind.” The blonde moved her chair closer to the table and she smiled brightly. “They left a hole where they used to be, but they took all their poison with them. There might be a space there, but you get to choose what takes its place. Better things, like friends and family and self-fulfilment.”

“I tried—I’ve been trying—” But you were still hurt. Everything seemed so futile and useless. “You mustn’t see your tears as a failure.” The woman seemed excited or passionate. “There are times when we will all stumble and fall. When we will kick and scream and cry because it is all we can do to express what we are feeling, but it does not mean we have failed. How you are feeling today is simply a—gentle bump in a long road.”

You clutched at the empty mug of coffee in your hands and mulled over the stranger’s words. Somehow they had dulled the acid sting of your emotions and made the gaping hole in your heart seem less like a dark space and just space that was ready to be used again. Taking a deep breath, you exhaled slowly, feeling a lot calmer than you when you had walked into the cafe.

“May I ask your name? How silly of me not to ask.”

When you gave your name, she slowly nodded. You weren’t sure if it was in understanding or something else; it couldn’t have been recognition, as you were certain you had never met this woman before. Maybe. “I see. My name is—you can call me Lulu.”

“Lulu.” You repeated. It didn’t feel like it fit, but who were you to judge people’s names? “It’s nice to meet you. Uh—circumstances aside.” You smiled, an unsure, tentative kind of smile.

Lulu simply beamed back. “Oh, it’s wonderful to meet you. Now that we have exchanged names, can we be friends?” She takes off her sunglasses, folds them and puts them onto the table. Seeing her face, you thought she looked familiar but weren’t sure. “I am not quite sure how much longer I have to spend here, but would you mind if I asked you some boring questions like what you do for work?”

Small talk was never easy, but Lulu seemed to love hearing about your work and the people at your work. It made you appreciate it a little bit more and helped lift your mood. When you asked about her work, she said in a roundabout way that she worked in diplomacy and it was all very drab and boring.

“It’s not often I get to wander the cities I visit. Most of the time I just—” Lulu made a shoo-ing gesture. “Sneak off and try to see what I can before I am caught. It makes the officials I work with very upset sometimes, but I need to have fun and have a break! I’m not a machine.” She huffed. While she wasn’t suffering from past mistakes like you, Lulu did have her own worries.

“Are you able to talk to someone above you who can help? Maybe you can reason with them to give you some time off.” You shrugged.

Lulu shook her head. “They all think I seem to do whatever I like, so it is hard to make them listen to my pleas. No matter—” There is a sparkle in her pretty eyes. “I shall continue to rebel until they get the point!”

You laughed, really enjoying the vibrant personality Lulu had. You were lucky to have met her and despite how low you were feeling earlier, you felt lucky now to have all the things you had. Things that you had worked hard for, that you needed to thank only yourself for. “Lulu, thank you.”

The blonde looked puzzled. “What for—” She was suddenly cut off as a shadow loomed over the table. The two of you turned your heads to look up at a slightly furious-looking man.

“I found you.” This new stranger was handsome, wearing an official-looking uniform that you didn’t recognise. “You can’t just—”

“Oh dear, it looks like it’s time for me to leave.” Lulu cut the man off and stood up, ignoring the fact that he was starting to look more irritated with each passing second. “Ulric, calm down. I already told you I would stay within the city walls. This is within the city walls, is it not?”

The man’s eyes flicked to you and then back to Lulu. “Yes.” He gritted his teeth as if he wanted to say more, but decided to hold his tongue. “She didn’t cause any trouble, did she?” He directed the question at you, with much less irritation and more exhaustion. You couldn’t find the words to respond and simply shook your head. “Good. Can we go back now? Your brother is going to lose his shit if we don’t get you back soon.”

Lulu shot you an ‘I told you so’ look and held out a hand. “Men, honestly.” The two of you shook hands and exchanged a secretive chuckle. “I know we did not have the chance to exchange details, but give me time. I will contact you again and we can have more coffee over some gossip.”

The ‘Ulric’ guy looked slightly alarmed at Lulu’s declaration, though gave you a casual salute before following after Lulu.

You supposed it was time to leave. You were a little sad that you wouldn’t easily be able to speak to your new friend again.

★★

“Ugh, these banners are fucking ridiculous. Can’t they slow it down? I don’t have that much money.” One of your coworkers whined.

You were with your usual lunch group, playing King’s Knight and complaining about summoning rates of some units and trying to pass the time. After your rough weekend, you had a new appreciation for those you worked with. It was okay to have different circles of friends and you work friends were all wonderful.

“Hey, it looks like the Oracle finally made her public appearance this morning.” Someone turned up the TV in the break room which was had the news running. “I heard she and her brother arrived sometime last week, but it was all secret.”

“She’s really pretty. Do you think they’ll try to arrange a marriage with the King?”

“That’s the rumour, but I already heard that officials are denying it. People like to talk though.”

You listened to the chatter, but continued to play on your phone, not really paying attention. That is until—

“People of Insomnia. Thank you for your warm welcome.”

When you looked up at the TV screen your eyes widened. You knew that voice and that face.

Lulu—Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, the Oracle—smiled brightly at the camera. “It is an honour to be here.”

★★★★★

A/N: Poor bodyguard, he was probably chasing Luna all around the city :( It probably gave the King a good laugh though.

masterlist

[dontbeallupinmyfriesdawg]

The Little Scribbles by HufflePuffPatronus / @dontbeallupinmyfriesdawg

Based on this prompt:  “ I left my phone number on a wall and you found it. So every now and again you text me about your day. I don’t know how I still don’t know who you are though.”

Cover by : @klarolinessecondbreakfast

Chapter 2 || FF.net /AO3

“You’re late”

Rebekah’s blonde head appeared from behind her menu, a surly expression on her pretty face that was all too familiar.

“Good morning to you too,”

Klaus flashed his sister an easy smile, sliding gracefully into the chair adjacent to her.

“It’s gone 11. That’s practically lunch time Nik, you could have invited me somewhere far nicer to eat.”

“Occasionally sister,” - Klaus murmured, picking up a napkin and laying it across his lap - “It wouldn’t kill you to mingle amongst the unwashed masses.”

Ignoring Rebekah’s steely glare, he picked up a menu of his own.

“Don’t count on me for a once of sympathy if anything in this hovel ends up giving you food poisoning.” She hissed.

“Can I get you, folks, anything?” A man with a lot of facial hair in an apron approached their table, looking at them expectantly.

“A coffee please,” Klaus replied without looking up. “Black, no sugar.”

The waiter nodded dutifully and noted that down.

“And for you Miss?”

Giving the menu another unimpressed once over Rebekah let out an over long suffering (entirely over-dramatic yet not out of character) sigh.

“A glass of water, please. Mineral preferably.”

The man flashed Rebekah a slightly incredulous look before schooling his expression and jotting that down on his notepad.

“I’ll see what we have,” he said uncertainly before shuffling away.

Klaus rolled his eyes as Rebekah sent another unimpressed look in his direction.

“Might I remind you,” he said coolly. “It was you who forced me to be present for this lunch engagement,”

And had he deliberately chosen, somewhere less than up to par with Rebekah’s impossible standards simply out of juvenile retaliation? Yes. But he was only human after all.

“I am your sister Niklaus.”

Klaus winced at the use of his full name and made a point of suddenly looking extremely interested in the screen of his Blackberry.

“-Your favorite sister at that.” Rebekah continued.  "I shouldn’t have to borderline blackmail into spending time with me,“

Sighing impatiently, Klaus looked up and gave his sister an exasperated look.

“Don’t play the victim card with me, Rebekah,” he warned. “We both know you wouldn’t have brought me unless you had some sort of hidden ulterior motive for demanding an audience with me,”

Rebekah shifted uncomfortably at that and stared out into the traffic passing by the window.

“And what ‘ulterior motive’ would that be?”

Klaus reclined back in his chair and smirked knowingly at his sibling just as the waiter returned and placed his coffee and Rebekah’s water down in front of them before leaving again hastily, obviously sensing the tension between them.

“Ah I don’t know,” he hummed, tapping his chin, pretending to look pensive. “Perhaps, Elijah conspired with you and now you’re here to make yet another attempt to lead me down the straight and narrow?”

Rebekah scoffed and tossed her hair off of her shoulder.

“Hardly,”

“Alright then, perhaps then this has something to do with mother then?”

Rebekah then visibly tensed and picked her napkin to wipe off a nonexistent bit of dirt on the side of her glass.

Klaus tutted and tilted his head patronizingly.

“Poor sister, you are as predictable as you are gullible,”

“Sod off Nik,” Rebekah snapped, thumping down her glass back on the table. “For the life of me, I’ll never know while you feel the need to be such a bloody prick all the time,”

“Well it’s true, isn’t it? You’ve spoken with her.” Klaus replied nonchalantly while reaching for his mug.

“We had brunch on Saturday,”

“Brunch…” Klaus bit out scornfully as if the word alone had mortally offended him.

“I’m not saying she’s changed Nik-”

“Here we go-”

“-But she’s concerned about you.” Rebekah finished, staring at him imploringly.

Klaus took one look at her and began laughing uncontrollably.

“And what exactly is funny?” Rebekah demanded.

“I’m sorry Rebekah-” Klaus attempted through, splutters. “-But the only thing our mother cares about is herself and her own well being- and the idea that you’ve convinced yourself any different,”

“It’s not like that Nik,”

“Let me guess, she’s ‘worried’”- he made quotation marks in the air for emphasis - “about my lack of suitable mate and is still adamant about setting me up with the Marshall-Kenner’s obnoxious offspring, so she can call it her good deed for the year and hopefully get some trophy grandchildren out of it while she’s at it?”

“You really are jaded for someone of your age Nik, you know that?”

Rebekah grabbed her glass from the table and took a sip, wrinkling her nose at whatever it was she did or didn’t taste that made her water so unsatisfactory.

“Ah, right again.” he nodded smugly.

“You can hardly blame her. You haven’t had so much as a date with anyone since the therapist. What was her name? Blonde, a little dull, but a sweet girl God bless her…”

“Camille has nothing to do with what we’re discussing,” Klaus said defensively. “This is about your active participation in mother’s mission to control my life,”

“Now who’s being dramatic,” Rebekah fired back, sharply raising a razor thin eyebrow at him.

“I’ve heard enough,” Klaus growled, rising from his seat.

“And now you’re running, typical I must say-”

“Keep your hair on sister, I wouldn’t be so inhumane as to force you to pay for your own glass of tap water,” Klaus answered sardonically. “I’m visiting the facilities,”

“Well hurry up about it, if sit in this place any longer, I’m certain I’ll come out with a rash.” Rebekah hissed, writhing uncomfortably.

“So a typical Tuesday afternoon for you then?” Klaus smiled, retreating before Rebekah could answer him.

Of course, there’s only one loo in this bloody place he thought as he slipped through the door at the back of the cafe.

Klaus sighed loudly, positioning himself near the bowl and adjusting his clothing. He then attempted to calm himself down and began calculating whether he’d have enough time (and patience) to take Rebekah to a nice patisserie and sweet talk her into taking his side over their mother’s.

Suddenly something above his head caught his eye. The wall in front of him had various scribbles and doodles scrawled all over it ranging from varying degrees of offensiveness and artistry but what caught his eye, was what was written in unusually neat handwriting - a stark contrast to everything else - and the number above it.

Only call in the state of a crisis

Klaus laughed ironically to himself, considering that anything that had anything to do with Esther Mikaelson, was something he considered to be a crisis. Perfect timing.

So yes maybe in a moment of utter madness he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and took down the number on the wall.

And maybe just maybe, he took out a pen also and scribbled it out so that nobody else would come after him and do the same thing.

Hey, he was a possessive sort of man, even when it came down to the numbers of complete strangers written in bathroom stalls. It was the Aries in him.

Later that evening

“Hello, yes?” Caroline demanded, answering her phone and irritably responding to the voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey Care is this still your number?” the voice mumbled uncertainly

“Matt?!” Caroline said incredulously, suddenly sitting bolt upright.

“Uh, yeah,” he replied, sounding slightly embarrassed and just as bumbling and inept as usual.

Matt was one of Caroline’s ex-boyfriends who she’s had the misfortune of ‘agreeing to stay friends’ with. Which everyone knows, is just code for ‘I don’t hate you but seriously I hope we never see each other again’ except Matt missed that memo apparently and figured that them being quote unquote friends justified him calling her at ass crack at night, for what Caroline was certain promised to be complete and utter nonsense.

“Seriously, it’s like eleven at night Matt,” Caroline complained, smoothing her hair out of her face and glancing at her alarm clock.

“Yeah, I know and I’m really sorry,” Matt said hurriedly. “But you’re the only one I thought I could ask who would be available and wouldn’t laugh at me,”

“What Matt?” Caroline sighed exhaustedly.

“How normal is it for someone to just suddenly develop a rash on the side of their elbow?”

Caroline pressed the phone to her chest and tried desperately not to groan out loud. Despite the distance, she could still feel Matt’s panicked voice through the receiver.

“Care? Caroline are you still there,”

She sighed. “Yeah, Matt I’m still here. It sounds like it’s just a regular rash. Does it hurt?”

“No but it’s itchy,” Matt replied, his tone sounding as if he was on the phone with his doctor describing the size of a growing tumor.

“If it’s really bothering you then go see a doctor,” Caroline supplied, staring up the ceiling and cursing the day she let Matt’s boy next door charm and goofy lopsided grin talk her into giving him her number in the middle of that pretzel store in the mall one afternoon.

“You’re right. Thanks, Care you’re a life saver,” Matt gushed, breathing a sigh of relief as if Caroline had just given him some invaluable, non-obvious solution to his problem.

“Sorry again for calling, good night-”

“-Wait!” Caroline exclaimed suddenly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, I just-” “Do you?-”

“Yeah?” Matt questioned in confusion.

“Do you think I’m boring Matt?”

“What?”

“Do you think I’m boring?” Caroline repeated.

After a moment’s silence, Matt finally responded with “Is this a trick question?”

“No! Matt, I just want your honest opinion,”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Caroline said with an eye roll.

“Oh, well then, no. I wouldn’t say you’re boring.” Matt answered.

“No?” she said hopefully.

“No wouldn’t be fair,”

Caroline breathed a sigh of relief.

“So would you say I’m fun?” she questioned

“What’s that now?” Matt asked a slight edge of panic returning in his voice.

“Fun Matt”

“Uhh,”

“Matt?”

“Uh, sure… I mean yeah you’re fun. We always had a lot of fun together. I mean sure, it was pretty controlled, planned out to the letter type of fun but it was still fun,”

“Wait. What? What does that mean?”

Matt chuckled.

“Well you know, with you, it was kind of always ‘The fun will start at 10:15 sharp and not a moment sooner’” he joked, clearly unaware of how insensitive he was being.

“Yeah well, I’m kind of tired so good night Matt. Thanks for that,” Caroline said, barely veiling her ire.

“No thank you,” Matt replied cheerily, the sarcasm going completely over his head.

“Night,”

“Goodnight,”

And with that, Caroline ended the call and proceeded to toss her phone three feet across the room and scream senselessly into her pillow.

[2kproject-blog]

THE FIVE PRINCE | CHAP 2

Chapter 2

A handsome and rich prince like a fairy tale. Everything they want will be granted because of their wealth. But one thing they want cannot be granted by wealth. it is, true love.

"If don't want to be included in trouble we have to do something like a geeky kid? That's not fun!" said Yuto. Right now they are hanging out on the roof of the school. Their mainstay place to rest and also, skip class of course.

"No need! Why should we listen to that old-man said?" Reply jun. Yuto shrugged and looked at the others. Jun suddenly got up and kicked hard the fence that became a protector on the roof of the school.

The three of them are shoked. They stared at each other.

"Hey, it's too noisy! I tried to sleep here!" said sleepy. He was in his most enjoyable place in the corner of the school roof. He himself brought the mattress up to the school. Never underestimate Shimazaki Haru if it is already related to his bedtime.

"Btw, do you guys not feel lonely? "Asked kai. They immediately turned towards kai.

"what do you mean by lonely?"Yuma asked back.

"uhm...like looking for a girlfriend or something like that!" Answer Kai they looked at each other then laughed.

"Hey, why do we have to looking for a girlfriend while we have a happy life? Isn't it easy to get a girlfriend? Doesn't girl usually like a handsome and rich guy?! if you get bored, you can just break up, right?" said Yuma clear.

"Hey, don't you feel sorry for a woman's feelings if you are playing around?" Asked kai, Yuma shook his head.

"There is no need to be pitied, they are just lowly beings who think of their own interests!" Replied jun coldly.

"Hahaha ... isn't this topic too strange to discuss?" Yuto said to change the subject.

"Yes you're right!" kai answered awkwardly. Silence befell them all.

"Hey, aren't we handsome?" Yuto asked. Everyone is silent.

"Why don't we try to go to the night club and try to play around?" Yuto's suggestion. They all linked their eyebrows and looked at Yuto.

"We're handsome, not to mention we're rich! So why not?" Connect yuto.

"Are you sure? We are still in highschool!!" Reply yuma. Yuto sighed.

"Come on, don't be so stiff!" Yuto said. Yuma shook his head.

"No! Whatever as long as it's not that!" said yuma. Yuto just sneered.

"Come on, later when we graduate! That way you can be satisfied playing around there!" Yuma said

Jun silently watched them. Jun is in a bad mood so, he's choose not to interrupt their conversation.

The doorbell has rang. Now the five of them descended from the roof of the school and headed for their class. They're different class. They were in the same class on the first year. But once they move up to the next year they separate. Jun is in the same class as Yuma. Kai is in the same class as Yuto. While haru isn't with them. Even so, haru does not really care about it.

Arriving at class jun then sat in his place. The screams and whispers of the students in Jun's class were very noisy. But jun was used to it so he let it go. Although it makes the ears break. On the other hand, Yuma wont hear the screams or whispers. Because the earphones have stayed on his ears. So it won't make him hear that.

Jun checked his cellphone. Open one of the apps on his cellphone. A sigh of breath came out of his mouth.

'she still hasn't updated yet, huh? Is she too busy or what? ' Inner jun then turned off his cellphone and put it in his pants pocket.

Suddenly the teacher entered the class. The atmosphere in the class suddenly became quiet. The teacher sighed and then started the lesson. The students follow the learning from the teacher. the time is running fast. Jun's face is still lethargic. Not because he went into the principal's office. But because there was no notification from the figure he was waiting the most.

Is she busy in reality?? Usually she will update twice in a day, But why hasn't she published the story since yesterday? Yet again in the fun part! ' Jun thought. In his mind there are only thoughts about a writer of novels. Even though he didn't pay attention to the teacher Jun still understood what the teacher was saying.

finally the bell rang... all students bow respectfully and pack their things and then get ready to go home. Yuma approached jun. A happy expression on his face.

"What is wrong?" Jun asked. Yuma smiled. "Do you want to come with me to the danso cafe?" Yuma asked. Jun linked his eyebrows. "Just the two of us?" Jun asked. "Yes!" Jun seems to think. "Don't you want to invite others?" Jun asked. Yuma shook his head. "No, just the two of us!" Reply yuma. Jun nods.

"Where is that?" Jun asked. "Not far from here anyway!" Yuma answered. "Are we going to walk?" Jun asked. "Aish, you don't need to ask too many questions! Come with me!" Reply yuma. Jun obediently followed his friend. "By the way, what's danso?" Asked Jun innocently. Yuma smiled. "A girl who turns into a boy!" Said Yuma with a crooked smile. "Huh ?!"

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

Finally, Yuma and Jun arrived at the danso cafe that Yuma mention.

Jun stared at the cafe in surprise. Jun stares at Yuma and links his eyebrows. "What's so special about this cafe? Why not the cafe that we always occupy to hang out?" Jun asked. "You will know when you come inside!" Yuma replied smiling.

The two of them then entered the cafe. At the cafe they were then welcomed by male servants. But actually the servant is a woman.

"Welcome to the cafe, in your dream ~ let me deliver it to your table!" The servant said kindly greet Jun and Yuma. Yuma happily nodded and jun followed. They are down to the room. That's the specialty of this cafe. This cafe is quite large so it is enough for one table and one room.

"Please ring this bell if you has ordered food, and please say who do you want to be served?" Said the servant. Yuma looked at the servant's profile book. Whereas jun just listened.

"I want to be served with gakuran, and the orders im discuss it with my friend!" Yuma replied smiling brightly. The waiter nodded and leaving.

"So what do you want to eat?" Yuma asked. Jun paused staring at the menu. "Hum ... whatever, the menu looks delicious..." Jun answered. Yuma nodded.

"By the way, you seems not happy?? Is it because matuigeki-san didn't update?" Guess Yuma Yuma is very familiar with his friend's habits. Yuma knows the most about his friends. Jun nods.

"I'm curious about the continuation of the prince on a black horse after drinking poison from the witch!" Jun answered. "Yes, you're right ... the story is quite interesting, about the sacrifice of the prince for his beloved love to the princess" replied Yuma. Then Yuma pressed the bell on the table. The maid who was interested in by Yuma came and smiled broadly.

"What would you like to order?" He asked. "Hum ... ice moca blend one, omuraice big tornedo plus karaage one, vanilla milk tea with a large pearl size and one italian spaghetti!" Said Yuma, saying their order.

"As you wish, my lord ~" he replied taking all Yuma's orders. After that the servant named gakuran said goodbye leaving the room.

Jun smiled brightly at Yuma. "You really are my best friend!" Said jun. Yuma linked his eyebrows. "What suddenly?" Jun still has a big smile. "Boba !!" Said jun excited. Yuma shook his head when Jun's mood began to get better.

TBC

[hardcandyhaz]

Temporary // H.S. (pt 3)

Harry is a lonely businessman, Rosie is a struggling graduate student, and their agreement is only temporary

Part 2 // Read on Wattpad

Part 3

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Startled, I cut off my conversation with Hadley and swiveled in my seat to see who had taken a spot on the other side of me at the bar. “Harry? Are you stalking me?” I asked and he grinned, shaking his head.

“Just here for a drink after work.” He said. “And I'm hoping I can persuade you toward accepting our agreement. What's your poison?” He asked.

“A Singapore sling, if you insist.” I said, turning around to check on Hadley who had moved to the opposite side of the bar to flirt with a Sig.

“Some friend you have.” Harry commented and I shrugged.

“A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do for free drinks.” I replied. “We can't afford to buy any.”

“S’that why you have a water?” Harry asked. I nodded and turned back to him, taking a sip and leaning on the counter.

“I don't tend to attract frat boys quite like Hadley. Didn't have any luck until you came along.” I said as a Singapore sling was set between us.

“Fortunately for me. Now I have all your attention.”

I smiled, sipping on my cocktail. “Yes you do. Better use it wisely.”

***

“Rosie!” Hadley squealed, throwing her arms around my shoulders. “I'm going to go home with Matt,” she continued, pointing at a Sig boy with her thumb.

“No, you're not.” I said, looking at the frat boy behind her. “Sorry, Matt. She's too drunk.”

He simply shrugged and walked away, which I'll admit was much better than past encounters with drunk Hadley and someone who wanted to sleep with her.

“You're mean,” Hadley slurred, resting her head on my shoulder. “Just wanna get laid every once in awhile and you can't even let me do that.” She continued, her words barely intelligible.

“Not when you're this wasted. You'll thank me in the morning.” I said, looking at Harry. “Sorry. I need to get her home.”

“I can take you,” Harry offered. “Safer than a cab or Uber.”

“You sure?” I asked and he nodded. “Okay,” I said. “Hadley, ready to go?”

“I guess.”

Slowly, we made our way outside, Hadley stumbling every couple steps. I helped her into Harry’s sleek black Range Rover and slid into the passenger seat, sighing as Harry started the car. “Sorry, Harry. Can't imagine taking a random drunk girl home is how you wanted to spend your Friday night.”

“Hey, got to spend my Friday night at a bar with you instead of a bar alone. It's fine.” He assured me, driving toward the apartment.

When we got there, Hadley had fallen asleep in the back seat. “Dammit. Hadley?” I asked, opening the door and shaking her. “Had?”

She groaned, rolling over in the back seat. “Rosie,” she mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Carry me.”

“I can't. You're too heavy. Come on, just a quick walk up to the apartment then we can put you to bed.” I said.

“I got her,” Harry said, nudging me out of the way and lifting Hadley out of the backseat.

“Damn, you're hot.” Hadley whispered and Harry chuckled, looking back at me.

“I am so sorry.” I said again.

Once Harry set Hadley down on her bed, I made sure she got to work taking off her shoes. “Thanks again, Harry.”

“Harry!” Hadley gasped and we both looked at her in confusion. “You're Rosie’s sugar daddy!”

“Okay, that's enough. We're out.” I said, ushering Harry out of the room. “I'm so sorry, oh my god, every time I think it can't get worse it gets worse.” I said as I walked Harry to the door.

“It's alright, darling. I don't mind.” He said, opening the door. “She isn't wrong. Assuming you say yes, I mean. Goodnight, Rosie. I hope to hear from you on Sunday.”

“Bye, Harry.”

***

“Rosie,” Hadley groaned the next morning as I sipped my coffee at the desk. “The blinds. Close them.”

“They are closed.” I said, wandering into to the kitchen to grab some Advil and coffee for her. “You tried to sleep with a Sig boy last night.” I continued when I came back, handing her the pills and setting the mug on her bedside table.

“Yeah, I remember.” She said, her voice croaking as she pushed herself up and downed the pills in quick succession. “I remember everything, unfortunately. Sorry about Harry.”

I shrugged. “He wasn't put off or anything. Said he hoped to hear from me tomorrow.”

“Good.” She nodded, sipping at her coffee. “Rosie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you please make me pancakes?”

“Sure. Even though you almost scared away my potential sugar daddy.”

“You're seriously the best and I love you.”

I had an uneventful shift from noon to five and once I got home, the rest of the evening was spent lounging in the living room with Hadley while we did homework.

“Shit!” Hadley gasped. “The ticket!”

“The one you got for parking in the wrong lot? What about it?” I asked.

“I had to pay it by midnight yesterday! Fuck, now I have to pay another $25 and that makes me short for rent.”

“It’s okay.” I said. “I have some extra money from the plasma center, use that.”

“I’ll pay you back. Put it on the board,” Hadley sighed, referring to the corkboard of IOUs we had, overflowing with notecards that kept track of how much money we owed somebody.

“No need, Harry will make up for it somehow.” I replied.

“So you’re going to say yes?” Hadley asked excitedly.

“Free college. I’d be a dumbass not to.”

***

“You’re not meeting Harry like that?” Hadley asked when I walked into the living room, phone in hand and ready to call Harry.

“Who said anything about meeting?” I asked, looking down at my sweats.

“You idiot. You asked for it in writing, you’ll have to meet somewhere to go over and sign everything, yeah? You have to put on clothes. And makeup, probably.”

“Fine. But I’m not wearing a skirt again.”

Fifteen minutes later I walked back into the living room looking more presentable, dialing Harry’s number.

“Rosie,” He said immediately upon answering.

“Hi, Harry.”

“I have everything written up, if you want.” He continued. “Join me for dinner at Tilth?”

“Sure, what time?”

“I’ll come get you. Be there in about an hour.” He said.

“Okay.”

“See you soon. Rosie.” He said before hanging up.

I threw my phone at the couch, followed quickly by my purse. “I need to go put on a fucking skirt.” I muttered, stalking out of the room.

***

A little more than an hour later I was sitting at a table across from Harry, sipping on a flute of champagne as he went over the agreement.

“Are you seeing anyone, Rosie?” He asked.

I shook my head. “Wouldn’t be here if I was.”

“Are you interested in dating?”

“Not particularly.”

“Good. It would only complicate things with the press if we were seen with other people.” He said. “You’re in your fourth year, yeah?”

“Yes, but I have a minor that has me there an extra year.”

He nodded, scribbling out a line and writing down something else in it’s place, presumably another two semesters worth of tuition. “Alright, see if this looks good.” He said, sliding the paper over to me.

“Rent, too?” I asked, looking up from the writing.

He nodded. “You’ve had loans carrying you through college, I know, and you don’t have to worry about them anymore, but you still struggle to make rent with the hours the cafe gives you. Since I’m asking you to cut your hours it’s only fair.”

“You have a ridiculous amount of money, don’t you?” I asked, scribbling my name on the dotted line.

“More than I’d care to admit.” He replied. “Keep it,” He continued when I tried handing the paper back to him. “The only person who gets screwed over if this goes wrong is you.”

I shrugged, folding it and putting it in my purse. Just then, our waiter came back with our food. “Alright, one parsnip risotto,” He said, setting Harry’s plate down in front of him. “And a house made gnocchi for the lady.” He continued, setting your plate down in front of you with a wink.

“Excuse me,” Harry said. “I’d thank you kindly to keep your eyes to yourself.”

The waiter’s face flared red. “Of course, apologies, sir.” He stuttered before walking away from the table.

“Be nice, Harry.” I said. “Didn’t have to scare him half to death.”

“Did so,” He replied, sipping his own champagne. “He shouldn’t be eyeing you up like that, not when you’re with another man.”

“He’s harmless.”

He shrugged, stabbing at his risotto with a fork. “I suppose. When’s rent due?”

“Friday.” I replied. “It’s due the last Friday of every month.”

“How much?” He asked.

“Nine hundred even.”

He nodded. “We can meet up sometime this week and get your bank account set up for direct deposit.”

I nodded. “So what now?” I asked.

“Now we finish dinner, then I take you home so you can study.”

***

“I’m home!” I called when getting back to the apartment and Hadley trotted out of the bedroom to meet me like a puppy.

“How is life as a new sugar baby?” She asked.

“Fantastic.” I sighed, toeing off my shoes and falling onto the couch. “It means champagne and food. Real food.” I continued, waving my box of leftover at Hadley. “It’s all yours.”

Hadley snatched the box from my hands, opening and sighing. “It smells fantastic.”

“It is.”

“So when do you quit your job at the cafe?” Hadley asked as she wandered into the kitchen to heat up my leftovers.

“I don’t. Just cut my hours.” I replied, following her. “If this all goes to shit I’ll need a job again.”

“How many hours does he want you working then?”

“Fifteen at the most. Ten preferably.”

“Damn, that’s like nothing. Is he going to get you a new apartment? A new car so I can stop giving you rides and you can live a life of luxury?”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” I said.

“Damn, that’s unfortunate. Because you really suck.”

“Excuse me, do you want to eat something other than ramen tonight?” I asked, eyeing the leftovers in the fridge.

“Yes! I take it back!”

“Anyway, it’s late, I’m going to bed.” I said.

“Good night! Sleep well not having to worry about any of your debt!” Hadley called after me and I giggled, falling into bed with a sigh, ready to face the upcoming week knowing I’d make rent.

[theliterateape]

Cleaning Toilets on Grave Yard Shift is a Trip, Man

by Don Hall

As a freshman in college (way back in 1980), I knew living at home was not going to work for me. Part of it was that my stepfather (at the time) flat out told me he would pay for my way if I majored in criminal law and I wanted to major in music. I had a scholarship for the tuition but needed to make some bread to pay for a place to squat when not practicing my trumpet and studying music theory.

A friend of a friend recommended a gig working nights (midnight to 9:00a.m.) on a cleaning crew for a few of Wichita’s more prominent restaurant/bars. It paid well and it fit my schedule, so I bit.

I met the Boss at midnight at the local Chi-Chi’s. Having worked as a waiter there for exactly three hours, I knew the location. I walked in and he sized me up. Can’t remember his name but I recall that he looked hard. You know the guy — pot belly as hard as a rock, a permanent five o’clock shadow, a shock of wirey hair poking out of a weathered ball cap.

He handed me a pair of enormous hard rubber gloves and we walked back to the kitchen. “Turn it on and power wash the place.” He growled as he passed over a thick black hose with a nozzle.

“Power wash?”

“The water is frigging hot as hell so don’t get it on you if you can help it. Spray everything. There are drains on the floor so don’t worry about that. They’re supposed to put away the pans and cooking stuff but if they didn’t...” and he grabbed the hose back, took aim at a metal bowl half-filled with dried up refried beans and cockroaches, and blasted it across the room. “...target practice.” And he cackled like he’d told a dirty joke about a whore and a priest.

There was a checklist beyond target practice. The floors of the entire place. Carpets. Bathrooms. We didn’t do the windows but we did disinfect the surfaces and table tops.

He and I cleaned four bars that night. I was handed a weekly schedule. I never saw the Boss again.

On my next scheduled shift, after a day of classes, rehearsals, and four hours of sleep, I met the crew. This time we started at Joe Kelly’s Oyster Dock. It was a fish place (duh) with a huge circular bar in the middle and a hard wood floor made with huge planks of aged wood. The crew were two other guys, both about a decade my senior. 

Duffy wore lots of black leather. He had a dark blue Mohawk and had a fifteen inch knife strapped to his left leg. He rode a motorcycle and wore mirrored sunglasses even in the dim recesses of the restaurant. He also was a frothing Born Again Pentecostal Christian.

Tim was a classic burnout. Think Jeff Bridges in The Big Lewbowski but without the charm. He’d done a lot of drugs in his younger years and it showed in his perpetually stoned demeanor and vacant stares. That night, he told me his favorite job he’d ever had was as the manager of The Circle Cinema, Wichita’s since closed down porn theater. He loved that gig but got fired for being caught getting a hand job by a sixteen year old girl.

Now, being eighteen years young, I can’t say I was the brightest bulb in the lamp but my wattage outshone these two retards like a lighthouse lamp eclipses a Christmas Tree strand.

Within a week, Tim handed me a note from the Boss. Scrawled in black pen and in all caps, it read: YOU ARE NOW THE CREW SUPERVISOR. EXTRA $3.00 HOUR. YOUR (sic) IN CHARGE. Neither Duffy nor Tim cared much. They weren’t big thinkers so having the college kid tell them what to clean and in what order wasn’t a problem.

Of the two, Duffy was the more focused. All I had to do was give him the order (“Do the floors, disinfect the bar, hit the kitchen.”) and aside from him jawing on and on about Jesus and Christian Rock all night, I never worried about him.

Tim, on the other hand, was like working with a child. Almost every night, I had to talk him through the order of cleaning the floors (“First sweep. Then vacuum. Then wet mop. Then dry mop. Then buff.”) The guy was just barely there on most nights and spent long smoke breaks at the bar in between each step. “Which one now?” he’d ask in between drags on his Winston Lights.

Neither of them would clean the bathrooms. Ever. That was the only area that my Supervisor authority ran dry. Any time I’d even suggest that Duffy do the bathrooms he’d go into a full-on rant/whine about it. Tim just ignored me when I’d task it to him. So, the bathrooms were almost always my domain.

Here’s a bit of knowledge to dole out. Drunk men are juvenile. They piss on stuff. They piss on the floor around the urinals. They piss on the toilet. They piss on full rolls of toilet paper. Like Storm Troopers in Star Wars, their aim is for shit.

Drunk women on the other side are monsters. Filthy and almost angry in the bathroom. Shit smeared on the walls. Used tampons stuck to the floor. Half-empty glasses left in the corners covered in lipstick. Half-eaten food on the sinks. 

I don’t know if when half-cocked on Long Island Ice Teas the longstanding rage at being paid less and treated like a pair of tits on legs seeps out like a poisonous sweat, but going into any women’s restroom after a Friday or Saturday night of business was like entering the threshold to hell.

I found my rhythm, working the grave yard shift and going to classes during the day. I didn’t sleep much but I was eighteen and had more energy than a weasel on crack so that never seemed a problem. Duffy and Tim were both odd founts of random knowledge and they’d tell me stories of women they’d been with, of other jobs they had, and conspiracy theories about Iran and Russia and mind control via the television.

There was the time Duffy spent an entire shift on target practice and grabbing crock ware bowls filled with roaches and microwaving them. There was the night Tim forgot about his cigarette and caught a vintage Coke sign on fire in Willy C’s Cafe.

And then there was Walter.

Walter was a skinny-as-a-matchstick kid (actually he was five years older than me) with a pompadour haircut and out of his tiny body came the voice of James Earl Jones. It was a dissonance to hear him talk with this booming gravitas and then see the pipsqueak dude uttering the sound. He was also a fantastic actor. I knew Walter from my regular casting in Wichita’s Shakespeare in the Parks and, when he was looking for work, I hooked him up.

Now there were four of us and we could hit two bars at the same time. I always paired up Duffy and Tim because regardless of the work, Walter and I had grand, sweeping conversations about theater, art, movies, and music. We also both really like to prank each other.

Walter’s pranks came in the form of phone calls and plastic vomit. It was as if he spent a lot of time at a Spencer’s Gifts and just couldn’t get enough. My pranks were mean. I was gifted my sense of humor from my grandfather who was known for tricking his son into believing he was deaf by talking to him for hours without making a sound and taught his grandson to try to catch rocks with his head.

One night as I’m buffing the floor in one of the restaurants and Walter is on bathrooms, Walter comes out from the women’s. His face is as pale as a sheet of paper and he looks mortified. I shut down the buffer.

“D-Don. I can’t. I mean, I just can’t...”

“What is it, dude? What’s going on?”

“There’s a...it’s in the toilet...there’s a fetus in the toilet...”

“A fetus? Like an aborted fetus?”

“Yeah...”

“Oh, fuck. OK. Why don’t you buff and I’ll go check it out.”

The relief on his face was visceral.

Sure enough, when I take a look in the third stall, there is what appears to be a curled up, pink fetus floating in the bowl. I’m a bit horrified until I notice the tail. A long thin tail one might see on a...oh. Apparently, this rat has been in the sewer system and the water has gradually peeled off every strand of fur, leaving nothing less than a curled up, pink dead rat in the toilet.

And, yes. I’m a a horrible asshole.

I’m a bastard because I put on my rubber gloves, picked the rat up by it’s tail, put it behind my back, and walk out to Walter. I feign horror. I make my lower lip tremble. He shuts off the buffer.

“Was it...?”

“Yeah. A fetus. A dead baby in the toilet.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“I think it’s a boy fetus. How about you CHECK!” and I hurl the rat at Walter. It hits him square on his skinny chest and he lets out a high-pitched scream so alien to his deep vocal stylings that it creates another sort of disconnect. He squeals a second time, like a tea kettle or an actress in a Jason Voorhees movie. His eyes roll back into his skull and he drops like a sack of flour onto the floor.

I laugh so hard I feel like I might go blind or have a stroke.

Walter quit that night. I cleaned the rest of the place myself. A week or so later, I caught up with him at Shakespeare rehearsal. I offer my apologies but a few others want to know why. And, in his booming voice, he tells the tale of the fetus with epic flair and manages to recreate his screech to boot. When he was finished, we all applauded him and he took a bow.

I worked this crew for a full year before transferring schools to another state (better scholarship with a good high school friend in the marching band). It’s funny how my memories of this graveyard shift gig eclipses my memories of my first two years of college but isn’t that the fun thing about the narrative of our lives?

[marcusssanderson]

50 Best Anthony Bourdain Quotes On Life, Food & Travel

As a chef, author, and T.V. personality, Anthony Bourdain traveled the world with one mission: to find out what people like to cook and what makes people happy.

He was a conduit for igniting wanderlust and bridging the gap between inaccessible culinary masterpieces and the cultures in which they are entwined.

The world cherished Bourdain as the alternative, rule-breaking, bad- boy chef who took initiative to make the world a more inclusive place through his many cultural collaborations featuring the one thing that brings us all together: food.

He had a big appetite and an even bigger heart and thirst for adventure. You would never find Bourdain in the same place, he was constantly exploring and sharing his revelries with the world, teaching us more about life, food, happiness, and adventure.

We remember Anthony Bourdain as someone who’s attitude and outlook on food and life was unparalleled. His passion infected the nation and his words are a reminder of the legacy he has left behind. Pay tribute to his memory and reflect on your own adventures with the following quotes.

  50 Best Anthony Bourdain Quotes On Life, Food & Travel

  1.) “Food is everything we are. It’s an extension of nationalist feeling, ethnic feeling, your personal history, your province, your region, your tribe, your grandma. It’s inseparable from those from the get-go.” – Anthony Bourdain

2.) “You learn a lot about someone when you share a meal together.” –  Anthony Bourdain

3.) “Bad food is made without pride, by cooks who have no pride, and no love. Bad food is made by chefs who are indifferent, or who are trying to be everything to everybody, who are trying to please everyone… Bad food is fake food… food that shows fear and lack of confidence in people’s ability to discern or to make decisions about their lives.” –  Anthony Bourdain

4.) “To me, life without veal stock, pork fat, sausage, organ meat, demi-glace, or even stinky cheese is a life not worth living.” –  Anthony Bourdain

5.) “Skills can be taught. Character you either have or you don’t have.” –  Anthony Bourdain

6.) “Your body is not a temple. It’s an amusement park. Enjoy the ride.” – Anthony Bourdain

7.) “If I’m an advocate for anything, it’s to move. As far as you can, as much as you can. Across the ocean, or simply across the river. Walk in someone else’s shoes or at least eat their food. It’s a plus for everybody.” – Anthony Bourdain

8.) “Barbecue may not be the road to world peace, but it’s a start.” – Anthony Bourdain

9.) “In America, the professional kitchen is the last refuge of the misfit. It’s a place for people with bad pasts to find a new family.” – Anthony Bourdain

10.) “Do we really want to travel in hermetically sealed popemobiles through the rural provinces of France, Mexico and the Far East, eating only in Hard Rock Cafes and McDonald’s? Or do we want to eat without fear, tearing into the local stew, the humble taqueria’s mystery meat, the sincerely offered gift of a lightly grilled fish head?” – Anthony Bourdain

11.) Meals make the society, hold the fabric together in lots of ways that were charming and interesting and intoxicating to me. The perfect meal, or the best meals, occur in a context that frequently has very little to do with the food itself. – Anthony Bourdain

12.) The Italians and Spanish, the Chinese and Vietnamese see food as part of a larger, more essential and pleasurable part of daily life. Not as an experience to be collected or bragged about – or as a ritual like filling up a car – but as something else that gives pleasure, like sex or music, or a good nap in the afternoon. – Anthony Bourdain

13.) “I travel around the world, eat a lot of s—, and basically do whatever the f— I want.” – Anthony Bourdain

14.) “I’d put aside my psychotic rage, after many years being awful to line cooks, abusive to waiters, bullying to dishwashers. It’s terrible — and counter-productive — to make people feel like idiots for working hard for you.” – Anthony Bourdain

15.) “Travel is about the gorgeous feeling of teetering in the unknown.” – Anthony Bourdain

16.) “Travel changes you. As you move through this life and this world you change things slightly, you leave marks behind, however small. And in return, life—and travel—leaves marks on you.” – Anthony Bourdain

17.) “To be treated well in places where you don’t expect to be treated well, to find things in common with people you thought previously you had very, very little in common with, that can’t be a bad thing.” – Anthony Bourdain

18.) I don’t have much patience for people who are self-conscious about the act of eating, and it irritates me when someone denies themselves the pleasure of a bloody hunk of steak or a pungent French cheese because of some outdated nonsense about what’s appropriate or attractive. – Anthony Bourdain

19.) Anyone who’s a chef, who loves food, ultimately knows that all that matters is: ‘Is it good? Does it give pleasure? –Anthony Bourdain

20.) “I don’t have to agree with you to like you or respect you.” – Anthony Bourdain

21.) “Assume the worst. About everybody. But don’t let this poisoned outlook affect your job performance. Let it all roll off your back. Ignore it. Be amused by what you see and suspect. Just because someone you work with is a miserable, treacherous, self-serving, capricious, and corrupt asshole shouldn’t prevent you from enjoying their company, working with them, or finding them entertaining.” – Anthony Bourdain

22.) “The way you make an omelet reveals your character.” – Anthony Bourdain

23.) “If you’re twenty-two, physically fit, hungry to learn and be better, I urge you to travel – as far and as widely as possible. Sleep on floors if you have to. Find out how other people live and eat and cook. Learn from them – wherever you go.” – Anthony Bourdain

24.) “No one understands and appreciates the American Dream of hard work leading to material rewards better than a non-American.” – Anthony Bourdain

25.) “What nicer thing can you do for somebody than make them breakfast?” – Anthony Bourdain

26.) “It’s very rarely a good career move to have a conscience.” – Anthony Bourdain

27.) “Context and memory play powerful roles in all the truly great meals in one’s life.” – Anthony Bourdain

28.) “Basic cooking skills are a virtue… the ability to feed yourself and a few others with proficiency should be taught to every young man and woman as a fundamental skill. [It’s] as vital to growing up as learning to wipe one’s own a–, cross the street by oneself, or be trusted with money.” – Anthony Bourdain

29.) “Luck is not a business model.” – Anthony Bourdain

30.) “Maybe that’s enlightenment enough: to know that there is no final resting place of the mind; no moment of smug clarity. Perhaps wisdom…is realizing how small I am, and unwise, and how far I have yet to go.” – Anthony Bourdain

31.) “Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you; it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you. Hopefully, you leave something good behind.” – Anthony Bourdain

32.) “When dealing with complex transportation issues, the best thing to do is pull up with a cold beer and let somebody else figure it out.” – Anthony Bourdain

33.) “Without experimentation, a willingness to ask questions and try new things, we shall surely become static, repetitive, and moribund.” – Anthony Bourdain

34.) “I am not afraid to look like an idiot.” – Anthony Bourdain

35.) “I, personally, think there is a real danger of taking food too seriously. Food should be part of the bigger picture.” – Anthony Bourdain

36.) “Without new ideas success can become stale.” – Anthony Bourdain

37.) “Don’t lie about it. You made a mistake. Admit it and move on. Just don’t do it again. Ever.” – Anthony Bourdain

38.) “I’m a big believer in winging it. I’m a big believer that you’re never going to find perfect city travel experience or the perfect meal without a constant willingness to experience a bad one. Letting the happy accident happen is what a lot of vacation itineraries miss, I think, and I’m always trying to push people to allow those things to happen rather than stick to some rigid itinerary.” – Anthony Bourdain

39.) “I’ve long believed that good food, good eating, is all about risk. Whether we’re talking about unpasteurized Stilton, raw oysters or working for organized crime ‘associates,’ food, for me, has always been an adventure” – Anthony Bourdain

40.) “I always entertain the notion that I’m wrong, or that I’ll have to revise my opinion. Most of the time that feels good; sometimes it really hurts and is embarrassing.” – Anthony Bourdain

41.) “The journey is part of the experience – an expression of the seriousness of one’s intent. One doesn’t take the A train to Mecca.” – Anthony Bourdain

42.) “People are generally proud of their food. A willingness to eat and drink with people without fear and prejudice… they open up to you in ways that somebody visiting who is driven by a story may not get.” – Anthony Bourdain

43.) “There is no Final Resting Place of the Mind.” – Anthony Bourdain

44.) “Sometimes the greatest meals on vacations are the ones you find when Plan A falls through.” – Anthony Bourdain

45.) “Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Willing is not enough; we must do.” – Anthony Bourdain

46.) “For a moment, or a second, the pinched expressions of the cynical, world-weary, throat-cutting, miserable bastards we’ve all had to become disappears, when we’re confronted with something as simple as a plate of food.” – Anthony Bourdain

47.) “I am not a fan of people who abuse service staff. In fact, I find it intolerable. It’s an unpardonable sin as far as I’m concerned, taking out personal business or some other kind of dissatisfaction on a waiter or busboy.” – Anthony Bourdain

48.) “An ounce of sauce covers a multitude of sins.” – Anthony Bourdain

49.) “Our movements through time and space seem somehow trivial compared to a heap of boiled meat in broth, the smell of saffron, garlic, fishbones and Pernod.” – Anthony Bourdain

50.) “It’s been an adventure. We took some casualties over the years. Things got broken. Things got lost. But I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” – Anthony Bourdain

Anthony Bourdain was an American treasure. His thirst for the weird, crazy, and unusual inspired many to explore outside their own comforts.

The charismatic and silver-tongued chef and adventurer broke borders and brought new cultures into living rooms across the nation, a gift that we may never truly appreciate. May his words continue to inspire, ignite, and challenge us to embrace the unknown.

The post 50 Best Anthony Bourdain Quotes On Life, Food & Travel appeared first on Everyday Power Blog.

[blaupferd-blog1]

Hanner nimmt Kroatien

Ayyyye I went to Croatia! Isn’t that dope?! I went with my friend Hannah, who I met in the TESOL program back at WWU (more specifically at her house party which I crashed). She was in Spain for three months teaching two Spanish children in Madrid, we planned this trip right before she goes home to good ole Washington (though now I think she is in London). 

Anyways, she was already traveling in the south of Croatia, so we met halfway in a small city called Pula, it only has about 80,000 inhabitants. On Friday morning I got on my Flixbus, and 8 hours later with one bus change I arrived and met Hannah at our airbnb. That first day we just chilled and ate a bit, then started figuring out what we would do for the weekend. Pula is a nice but verrry small city, so we thought that we would end up traveling to another city for a day-trip, because some of the cities I saw on the way looked so incredibly beautiful. That didn’t end up happening, and we had a fantastic time catching up and exploring Pula.

Pula doesn’t really have any beaches right in the city, so on Friday evening we just walked along the harbor, and saw the  famous amphitheater that was built in some year BC, also es ist sehr alt.

Later that night we went to a cool bar that had live jazz music, but a group of elderly french came and sat with us, in turn, harshing our mellow.

The next day we woke up to the sound of pouring rain, quite a bummer. And it was like this the entire day, but that didn’t stop us from going out and exploring. We went to the market for some fresh groceries, went to a few cafes, and tried to go to the beach when the clouds cleared up, but then it started pouring and we got lost, so it was a fail. An interesting thing about cafes in Pula is that they never have any food, only coffee and alcoholic drinks, so we would go to the chain bakery called Mlinar, get the goods, and then drink at the cafes. There is really not so much to do in Pula (especially in the rain) but it was a nice and relaxing, non-touristy location. I was also able to practice German which surprised me, people automatically assumed that we were German tourists and would speak to us in German at first, being that their German was slow and simple I was able to keep up the facade that we were in fact German. 

Later that night the sweetest airbnb host Lidija came and gave us some Craotian treats, though the pastry/bread-looking things were quite gross and we threw them away. 

The next day Jesus answered our prayers and rewarded us with sunshine, the perfect beach weather, hot, but not too hot. So once again we headed out to a cafe for some breakfast and then headed to the beach.

The beach was actually a recommendation from a very chatty waiter. He also misunderstood our story and said that it was destiny that we were here together, we both just kind of looked at each other with confused expressions and said “yeahh....”

But it is destiny that he was our waiter because then we eventually found this beautiful beach! 

The beaches in Croatia are often with rocks instead of sand, but it was still so nice. The water was cold, but locals were swimming, and we’re from Washington so we could handle it. We did some beach modeling, and then moved on to the next location, pizza.

After pizza we found an even prettier beach, with help from another waiter. We relaxed in the sun, took some selfies, and swam some more. The beach I swam in was definitely the prettiest I have ever had the pleasure of swimming in.

RIP

We took the bus back which was less than 10 minutes long and ate dinner. Later we were chatting and hysterically laughing at all of the ridiculous pictures we had taken that day. But you know what they say, it’s all fun and games until there is a scorpion in your room.

Okay I know it is not so huge but it was a freaking scorpion! Hannah was on the verge of a mental breakdown and I also was very afraid. We then heard someone outside of our door and Hannah frantically flung the door open asking for help. The girl told us that it wasn’t poisonous so we could put it outside or kill it. Being the man of the airbnb I knew what I had to do, I knew it was my duty to kill the beast. Granted, I am an ethical vegetarian so I don’t kill bugs on purpose unless they are in the shower, or a scorpion. Luckily I had the sense to bring my docs, so I was well equipped for my mission. And then like the man I am I stomped it to death, screaming the entire time. So other than that and the paranormal experience I had when I woke up at 3 AM and then heard a woman’s voice say “hello,” the airbnb was great, 10/10.

The next day was very relaxed and we just chilled at the park in the sun. Eventually we said our goodbyes until we see each other again in Washington, sometime in July. It is so crazy to think that I only have a little more than a month here left </3 I made it back to Graz at midnight, despite the Croatian bus lady’s attempt to sabotage my journey by telling me the wrong bus terminal, luckily for me I’m smart and figured it out. Being in Austria and travelling alone has given me so much confidence I never used to have, I now know that I can rely on myself, and should.  

Shout out to Hannah for making our trip to Croatia so much fun :)

[liznlucyvsamerica]

Day Two - May 9, 2017: Missouri to Oklahoma

This morning I woke up approximately 500 miles away from home and didn’t have a panic attack about it. This was a major success, because I had bed bugs a couple of years ago and I still have a thing about sleeping in beds that are not my own. Yet another reason that I am insane to be doing this trip at all.

Breakfast was nice for the most part. I went to a little cafe within walking distance of my airbnb that was empty except for three old people and the waiter. Presumably the cook was there too, but obviously I didn’t see them. I decided to get the steak and eggs because protein is Good For You or something, and a glass of OJ because Vitamin C is also Good For You or something. The steak was great, and the eggs were a little hard but otherwise enjoyable. Less enjoyable things about breakfast included the television turned to Fox News and the loud conversation the old people decided to have about Hillary Clinton.

Probably I should have mentally prepared myself better for a long trip through a bunch of red states.

When you are the only person capable of carrying things in and out of buildings because the second passenger in your car weighs 7 lbs, has a bad attitude, and does not have opposable thumbs, you realize just how much shit you actually need to feel comfortable. I took approximately ten thousand trips in and out of the condo this morning, at which time the temperature was already in the high 70s. I am not a creature built for heat. Why am I going to California again?

In any case, once my 3 tons of bare necessities were safely inside the car, I headed off again. Today I literally drove on about 5 roads and 4 of them were to get out of the neighborhood.

Missouri’s mountainous terrain is beautiful for about the first ten minutes and then it is both terrifying and annoying. When they built the highways they blasted through rocks to make the roads slightly flatter than they would be otherwise, and you can see those rocks still. Sometimes they fall. Great. In some places, there are inclines that feel like they are at a 45 degree angle. In others, there are no guard rails and when you glance to the sides you can almost see yourself driving off a cliff. If you have ever had intrusive thoughts about such a thing, probably you should not drive in Missouri.

I pulled off the highway in an attempt to see the Meramec caverns, or at least the outside of them, but there’s been a ton of flooding in the area lately and I assume that’s why it was closed. I didn’t ask the security guy who shooed my car away from the gate because I had bad cell reception and I always get nervous when that happens. Instead I stopped outside an abandoned “wildlife museum” that looked like no “live alligators” had been there for quite some time. Here I reconnected to the internet, caught a Bulbasaur on Pokémon Go, and tried not to think about the weirdness of rural America.

My next stop was at an antique mall, because I had seen signs for 10 of them at that point and figured I had better see at least one of them. There was a ton of neat old breakable stuff that I had absolutely no room for in my car. I bought a vintage drawing of a lady in fur that I have no idea what to do with but I liked it.

The last rest stop in Missouri along route 44 is bright orange and very welcome-y. I met a lovely woman named Dixie from the tourism association who gave me a map of Missouri, encouraged me to visit more things next time I pass through, and wished me safe travels. Lucy got her mid-day snack here and promptly went back to sleep. Lucky.

At some point, Missouri turns into Oklahoma, where the speed limit is 75 miles per hour and most people pass you even if you’re doing 80. This is despite the fact that Oklahoma is just about as hilly as Missouri and also has cops crawling all over the turnpike.

Tolls are weird and I do not understand them. I got on the turnpike, paid a toll, got off the turnpike and got a refund for that toll, stopped at a rest stop that sold incredibly tasteful things like Confederate flags and Trump memorabilia alongside “Indian” themed jewelry that had never been touched by a Native American probably, then got back on the turnpike and paid another toll. And then another when I got past Tulsa. And another. One of them only accepted change. Who designed these things?

Other delightful things I observed on today’s drive:

• 3 more pro-life billboards

• 1 billboard reading “Marriage = Man + Woman. Confused? Ask God.” Classy.

• 1 billboard reading “Pornography Poisons Minds + Souls,” right next to a building with “Adult Video Superstore” in large letters on the roof

• 7 more antique malls

• 4 more Cracker Barrel billboards

• at least 3 army surplus stores

• 2 indoor shooting ranges

• the World’s Largest Gift Shop. It was, indeed, large.

• the Jesse James Wax Museum

• a billboard advertising Uranus, MO, with the slogan “the best fudge comes from Uranus.” Kinda wish I had stopped, honestly.

• several stretches of highway named after dead police officers

• so. many. rocks.

I’m in a hotel in Oklahoma City, almost 1,000 miles away from home, and it still doesn’t feel quite real. Maybe it will in the morning.

Originally posted May 10, 2017 at 12:39 AM