#theres something off about my brush settings right now nothing feels right so Im scribbling

[corruptimles]

redraw

2019 art:

[cupidhaos]

just how much i love you

pairing: hong jisoo x gn reader

word count: 3.2k

genre: fluff, slice of life, established relationship, non idol au

summary: you recall each time you realized just how much joshua loved you and decide to return the favor

warnings: mentions of illness

song rec: better | jeremy passion

a/n: YOOO im a day late i meant to post this yesterday for shuas bday but then it completely slipped my mind and i forgot that time was a thing and i was like CRAP so then i was like u know what ill post it tmrw bc i mean its technically still his bday and hes a from america so it still counts anyways enjoy this tooth rotting fluff 

you already knew that joshua meant the world to you - yet there are just some certain moments that come to mind when you think back on it.

one of the first moments that you thought of was when he was playing the guitar.

“whatcha writing down there?” you ask curiously as you leaned over joshua’s shoulder, trying to take a peek at whatever he was scribbling down on his journal. as you rest your chin on his shoulder, you wrap another arm around his neck. a silent chuckle leaves joshua’s lips as he slowly closes the book - pushing it off to the side “nothing that you need to know of just yet”

pouting, a whine leaves your lips as you shake his shoulders back and forth “aw c’mon shuaaa - you’ve been sitting here all day playing your guitar and you won’t even let me know what you’re doing”

he moves to the side a little so that he was able to get a good look of your face. setting his guitar down on the table in front of him, he motions for you to sit down with him. once he realizes you won’t budge as long as that pout on your lips was there, he stands up to wrap an arm around your waist - pulling you over the couch as you loudly yelped in surprise.

joshua places you onto his lap as he sits back down. securely wrapping his arms around your waist as he looks up at you with large, apologetic eyes “i’m sorry - were you getting lonely without me?” he teases.

all you could do was scoff in response which joshua just laughs at. its quiet for a second before he speaks up again “i can’t let you see it just yet. it’s a surprise”

“can i at least have a hint?”

he smiles at your question, reaching over to grab his guitar that he left on the table. he places it on your lap, leading your hands to hold onto it with his own. you were glad he wasn’t able to see the blush that covers your cheeks as he guided your hands to the guitar chords.

leaning over your shoulder to look at your hands, you can feel his hot breath graze your neck, which causes goosebumps to spread through your body “place your finger right here on this chord, and just strum lightly - exactly like that”

after teaching you a couple more chords, he pulls his hands away from yours, causing a wave of disappointment to wash over you. turning to look up at him, you give him a curious look “what was that for?”

he just shrugs as he moves himself towards the end of the couch, a sly smile on his face the entire times. opening up his notebook, he starts skimming through the pages “just chords for the song that i’m writing”

“song?”

“mhm - for you”

your face immediately turns red at his response “what?! you’re writing me a song?! why!”

he gives you a look of genuine confusion “do i need any other reason asides from the fact that i love you? anyways - it’s not ready yet so you’re just gonna have to wait” was all he said before getting up and leaving.

“wait! you can’t just say that and leave!” you call out after him as he laughs.

“i just did!”

that was the first time you had realized just how much joshua loved you.

“y/n… whats that in your jacket?”

you freeze from where you stood in the tiny apartment that the two of you shared. it was raining outside, and you were drenched from head to toe. joshua gives you a questionable look as he crosses his arms, cocking up one of his eyebrows.

you slowly look up as you clutch your jacket to your chest, a dumb look on your face “my jacket? theres nothing in it other than me, myself and i” you reply back. his eyes squint towards you as you try your best to avoid his gaze “you sure?”

as you open your mouth to respond, you were cut off with a bark coming from inside of your jacket. moments later, a small puppy pops up from your jacket - wiggling its way out of your arms and jumping onto the floor. a sheepish look covers your face as you lean down to pick up the puppy “okay maybe i was lying”

joshua doesn’t even look shock at the news, only a tired sigh coming from his lips “i thought you were going to get groceries”

you kick your shoes off and you hold the puppy closer to your chest “i know i said that but! look at him shua! isn’t he so cute!” you ask him as you walk towards your boyfriend. he looks down towards you and the dog in your arms as he chuckles “you know that you can’t just pick up stray dogs and bring them home right?”

your shoulders slump at his reply, a pout forming on your lips “i mean i know that… but he was all alone in the rain and he looked so sad… i couldn’t just leave him there!”

he nods in understanding, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer “i know you had good intentions - but have you ever considered that our little friend has an owner already?”

turning towards the side, you pull the dog in closer “well they just left him outside all alone in the rain they’re obviously not a good owner” you say under your breath.

joshua points towards the dogs neck “isn’t that a collar? have you checked if they belonged to someone?”

“no… but!”

“we can’t just steal someone else’s dog - they may be upset right now”

a sigh leavings your lips as you lean forward to rest your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder “i know… but he’s just so cute!”

“i know he is, but he isn’t our dog. how about this - after we return him lets go to the shelter and see if we can get our own?”

you gasp loudly as you quickly turn to look up at him, eyes wide and filled with hope “really! do you mean it!”

joshua nods, a soft smile on his face “of course - but we still have to return him first okay?”

you nod your head quickly, noticing the fond smile that joshua aims towards you “what? what is it?”

all he does is shake his head, brushing off the question “nothing, you just look really cute right now” is what he tells you - quickly causing your face to heat up. he places a hand on your forehead as he leans in close, causing your breath to hitch.

“you feel warm - lets go change your clothes before we go back out. we wouldn’t want you getting sick do we?” he tells you as he pulls you on your head, dragging you towards your bedroom. you just nod shyly in response to his question as he laughs quietly at your reaction.

that was the second time you had realized just how much joshua loved you.

“joshua stay back! i don’t want you to catch -” you suddenly stop your sentence as you felt a sneeze coming up. quickly burying your face into your elbow, you let out a loud sneeze. joshua shakes his head at you as he pushes you back down onto the bed “shh, just let me take care of you”

feeling weak, you’re unable to even fight back “you’re always taking care of me though - it’s my fault that i got sick in  the first place…”

joshua nods his head in agreement despite the offended scoff that leaves your lips “it is in fact your fault. i told you to dress warmly and bring an umbrella, and what did you do?”

“i didn’t dress warmly…”

“what else?”

“or bring an umbrella when it rained…”

he hums in acknowledgment as you places a wet towel on your forehead “i would say i told you so, but i think that you’ve learned your lesson”

a small frown appears on your face as joshua continued to scold you. you open your mouth to say something, but felt a pang in your head, causing a look of discomfort to now show on your face. a flash of worry appears on joshua’s features as you groan in pain “take it easy okay? don’t push yourself” he tells you as he hands you some medicine.

you place in the medicine in your mouth as you reach for the water, joshua’s already one step ahead of you. he brings the water up to your lips before you can even protest, helping you drink. once he pulls the cup away, you frown immediately “you don’t need to take care of me - you’ll get sick too”

he just shrugs at your comment though as he places the cup back down “i’m your boyfriend - why wouldn’t i take care of you?”

you’re about to retort back before he cuts you off with a quick kiss on the lips. you gasp loudly as you look at him in horror “joshua!”

joshua just laughs at your reaction “you can pay me back when i get sick by taking care of me. besides - if i wasn’t here to take care of you who would be?”

you’re unable to think of a response as joshua wraps his arms around you to pull you in for a hug “don’t worry y/n - i’ll always be there to take care of you” he reassures, causing your shoulders to relax.

a week later, joshua catches your cold.

“i told you that this would happen.” you scold him as you bring a spoon of soup up to his lips. he just smiles cheekily at you as he sits warm in bed “i told you you’ll be paying me back. but you don’t need to take care of me either - i was just joking really”

a light laugh leaves your lips at his comment. you place the bowl down and turn to look at him, grabbing his face with your hands “and like you said - i’ll always be there to take care of you too”

his face turned from surprised to one filled with adoration quickly as he gives you a toothy smile “then we’ll be taking care of eachother until we’re old and wrinkly”

that was the third time you had realized just how much joshua loved you.

“did you make these cookies yourself y/n?” seungcheol asks as him and jeonghan take a bit out of the cookies that you just baked. you nod your head excitedly as you await for their responses “i did! what do you think?”

before anyone could say anything, jeonghan opens his mouth to spit out the cookie “what did you even put in this? poison?”

you frown at his comment as you turn to look at seungcheol “they can’t be that bad!” you retort, but the look of disgust on seungcheol’s face tells you otherwise. he places the bitten cookie back down as he looks at you with wariness “why is it… so salty…”

“what are you even talking -” you start off as you grab a cookie from the cooling rack, but you stop yourself once you take a bite - a bitter taste of salt filling up your mouth. you quickly spit it back out as you now understand what your friends meant “why is it so salty!”

jeonghan shakes his head at you as he picks up one of the cookies to inspect it “maybe you put in the wrong ingredient when you were making it?” this comment makes you gasp as you come to realize your mistake.

“i think i mixed up the salt and the sugar!”

both of your friends give you looks of pity as you drop your head into your hands “this is horrible how am i supposed to give them to joshua now! i spent the last three hours for nothing!” you groan. seungcheol claps his hands together as he thinks of an idea “i know! lets throw them away before he gets home! then he’ll never know of your failure!”

raising your head from your hands, you give seungcheol a deadly glare which causes him to freeze in his chair “was it necessary to say it like that”

before any other ideas are thrown, the sound of the front door opening is heard - causing the three of you to panic.

“i’m home!” a familiar voice calls out, and before any of you were able to even touch the cookies - joshua has already entered the kitchen “oh! seungcheol! jeonghan! what are you two doing here?”

“well you see, y/n here wanted us to try her oh so amazing and delicious cookies that she’s worked so hard on” jeonghan explains, a devilish look in his eyes. seungcheol sighs once he realizes what jeonghan was planning and joshua just looks surprised.

he turns to you with a curious look on his face, glancing back down at the cookies on the cooling rack “you made cookies y/n?” he questions and all you can do was nod sadly “i was planning on surprising you with them when you came home but -”

“y/n spent hours working on these wonderful cookies just for you shua - why don’t you try some?” jeonghan presses on to which joshua nods. you glare at jeonghan who just gives you mischievous look back. as joshua reaches over and grabs a cookie, panic settles inside of you,

“look you really don’t have to -”

“these are great!”

you pause from where you stood and jeonghan and seungcheol both have the same confused look on their faces as you. joshua gives you a genuine smile as he takes another bite out of the cookie in his hand.

“they’re - wait what did you say?”

he nods as he continues to eat it - no sign of hesitation or lie on his face “you did great on them baby! thank you for the cookies” he tells you, leaning over to place a kiss on your forehead. you just stand there confused as he ultimately finishes up the cookie before grabbing another one.

jeonghan and seungcheol share a look with each other before turning back to joshua.

“you really think they’re good?” seungcheol asks warily which joshua nods in response to “of course i do - anything that y/n makes from scratch is good”

you felt your heart flutter at his response as you just stare up at him with wide eyes. jeonghan stares at joshua intently as he watches him eat another cookie “don’t you think theres anything off about it? maybe it tastes a little - salty?”

joshua pauses from eating the cookie and you hold your breath as you wait for his response. he just shakes his head though as he continues to eat the rest of the cookie “hm, its a little bit salty - but i still like it anyways”

as he finishes off the salt cookie, he excuses himself and tells you that hes going to go change first and be right back. you nod in response and the three of you wait until he finally leaves the kitchen. once you realize hes out of range, all three of you turn towards the cooling rack - each shoving a piece of cookie in your mouths.

as if on cue, you all spit the cookie back out. seungcheol grabs a napkin and tries to wipe the taste out of his mouth “either joshua’s a really good liar and was trying to get back at hannie - or theres something off about his tastebuds.”

jeonghan nods in agreement as he throws away the leftover cookie that he had onto a paper towel “i have no idea how he was able to eat three of those biohazards without even flinching”.

“its literally a salt cookie what is wrong with him” seungcheol questions as he grabs a glass of water for him and jeonghan. as jeonghan reaches to take the glass of water from seungcheol’s hand, he shakes his head. 

“theres no way he actually found that edible - he must’ve just lied so he wouldn’t hurt y/n’s feelings”

you just stare at the cookies in shock as you realized that joshua ate your cookies no matter how gross and salty it tasted - just because you made them. a soft smile slowly appears on your face as you recall watching him eat the cookies you made - going as far as complimenting and thanking you for them.

that was the fourth time you had realized just how much joshua loved you.

“guys shh!” someone says as joshua enters into his apartment that he shared with you. his eyebrows furrow together in confusion as he takes off his shoes and his coat.

“y/n? you there?” he calls out as he realizes just how dark the apartment was. he waits for you to answer and immediately fills up with worry once he doesn’t hear your reply. he’s about to take his phone out to call you, but is stopped once the lights suddenly turn on.

he covers his eyes as he tries to adjust to the brightness as loud pops suddenly filled his ears. moving his hands from his eyes, he is then met face to face with you holding a birthday cake along with the rest of his friends. confetti falls onto him as more party poppers were released.

“happy birthday joshua!”

his eyes widen in shock once he realizes what was going on. a wide smile covers his face as he looks behind you to see his friends holding confetti poppers as well as a large banner saying ‘happy birthday shua!’ on it. looking around, he realizes the rest of the apartment was decorated as well. he then looks at the cake you were holding in your hands.

“did you do this all for me?” joshua asks you in disbelief. you nod your head as you smile back at him “of course i did! why wouldn’t i?”

joshua just shakes his head though, the smile never leaving his face “i totally forgot it was even my birthday today”

his friends just laugh at his reply as one of them points towards you “you should thank y/n! they were the one to plan all of this!” he looks back at you as you turn your head away from him sheepishly “did you really plan all of this for me?”

you nod your head shyly as you feel his gaze now on you “i mean… yeah… it’s really not that big of deal…”

somehow, the smile on his joshua’s face grew ten times bigger. he leans down and gives you kiss on the top of your head “thank you y/n, it truly means the world to me”

shaking your head though, you look at him with a soft smile on your face “i just wanted to show you just how much i loved you since you do it to me all the time” you reply back, causing joshua to laugh in response.

“you don’t have to do anything - i already know how much you love me.”

m.list

[dreadhaus-literature]

{Story} Cold Comfort

What’s a mortician to do when the love of their life is just out of reach? A temporary replacement is just cold comfort for the time being. It can’t last, after all—

True love never dies.

Chapter One

A Dreadful Dalliance sits at the end of a long, forested road, the gate-keeper to a sprawling cemetery that will eventually be the resting place of every soul in New Senzannini. The Mortuary has been in operation for nearly a decade and has earned it’s sterling reputation as a thoughtful, caring place to bring your loved ones for their last rites and a compassionate send-off to the next stage of life. Owned and operated by Dot Dreadful, the Mortuary handles all post-mortem operations, from the preparation of the departed to the funeral arrangements, and though the morgue is fully staffed with plenty of attentive, devoted staff, there’s only one mortician on staff--Dot. Now that the owner of the Dalliance was growing too pregnant to be on her feet, or surrounded by the chemicals necessary to do her job, it left a gaping hole to be filled or New Senzannini’s only mortuary was going to be temporary closed. That wasn’t an option, and that left Dot Dreadful with only one alternative.

“You’re hiring a temp?” Felina Frenzy, known more intimately by her birth name Monica, glanced up at her best friend with a curious tilt of her head. “Do they even have temporary morticians?”

Dot Dreadful didn’t glance up from the stack of papers in her hand; there was so much involved in handing her business over while she was on maternity leave and she should have started preparing for this months ago. “Ah, yes and no. It’s something of an unspoken code that you help out a fellow mortician if they need it. We often consult with each other on difficult preparations or if one of us is handling a coroner’s report dealing with suspicious circumstances. That sort of thing.”

Monica nodded, turning back to the training manual in her lap. “Were you able to find someone to help you out?”

“The city coroner offered but he’s...” Dot paused in her reviewing, glancing up at the ceiling. “How do I put this diplomatically...he does as well as one would expect a coroner to do when dealing with living, breathing bodies after he spends all day with cold, dismembered corpses.”

Monica laughed, nodding. “Makes sense. So he wouldn’t be any good handling the people aspect of the job.”

“Definitely not.”

“I mean, you know I’m always fine to help you out,” Monica crossed one leg over the other, meeting Dot’s gaze over her desk. “But I don’t know why you think I’m going to be any better handling the people aspect of your job.”

“You’re better with people than you think, you just don’t like them.” Dot turned back to her lists. “I don’t like people either but I manage this job just fine. You’ll be a peach, you always are.”

“...But you’re not expecting me to do the hack and slash part of the job, right?” Monica ventured. She didn’t and wouldn’t tell Dot no, but it wasn’t like she had the technical training to prepare a corpse for burial.

Dot shook her head. “Not at all. I thought of a compromise. Since you offered to help where you could, I figured you could handle the managerial side of things, keep the staff running smoothly, sort of...just sit in this chair right here.” Dot patted the arm of her desk chair. “You’d be the boss, supervising the day to day operations, and I’d hire on a temporary mortician to solely be responsible for the more hands-on part of the job. You guys would tag-team it.”

Monica looked thoughtful before she nodded. It seemed a solid enough plan. “But the city coroner wasn’t interested in working that way?”

“Roger’s a decent guy, but he’s also been the city coroner for like, eighty years,” Dot exaggerated dryly. “He wants to work this alone, and I just don’t trust him to handle the entire process. I’m not going to ask you to try and deal with his gross man ego while you’re doing me a favor, holding this place down while I’m off.”

“I would have been fine, Dottie.” Monica closed the lid of the training binder, handing it back to Dot since the woman as still adding pages to the already thick instruction manual. “I’m not unused to men’s egos.”

“I know, love, it’s not about you not being able to handle it, but more why would I subject you to that when you’re doing me a favor? Especially since I was able to find a mortician who had no problem with staying below and just prepping the bodies for you.”

To Monica, that sounded reasonable enough and why wouldn’t it be? A Dreadful Dalliance has been Dot’s first baby, but now that she had actual babies on the way she needed help taking care of her “firstborn”. Monica had been friends with Dot for years, since before the Mortuary, so of course she’d been here through it’s conception and it’s construction, and it’s subsequent years of operation. How many hours had she spent with Dot in this office, working on her own projects? Being a novelist and illustrator afforded Monica plenty of freedom to set her own schedule and since her newest literary masterpiece was circulating and topping lists, she had some much earned downtime--granted one might not consider managing a mortuary as “downtime” but Monica knew the staff here was pretty much self-sufficient and short of just sitting in here and being present should any emergencies present themselves, it really wouldn’t be too taxing. Dot had spent the last couple weeks preparing that thick manual for Monica to have and she’d also insisted Monica call her if need be. Dot may be approaching the bed rest phase of her pregnancy but that didn’t mean her vocal chords didn’t work--Monica didn’t say this, but she was going to do whatever she needed to not have to call Dot. She wanted to do this, to help Dot out when she needed it, and with Dot taking care of the second part of her job with finding a temporary mortician, it all seemed to be falling into place without a hitch.

“When do they start?”

Dot reached over for her desk phone. “They already have, actually.” She pressed the intercom, connecting her to the morgue in the basement. “Can you come up to my office please, Glad?”

“Can do, Miss Dreadful!”

The chipper reply to Dot hadn’t been what Monica was expecting, especially coming up from the dark, cold recesses of the morgue. She actually blinked in surprise, but Dot just flashed her a smile and turned back to scribbling last minute notes in the margin of the list in her hand.

A scant few minutes later and there was a knock on Dot’s office door before the new hire let himself in and Monica got her first look at the partner she’d be working with over the next several weeks.

“Monica, this is Gladwyn Charles. Gladwyn, this is my closest friend and your new boss, Monica.”

The man Dot named was still in the process of ducking into the room when she made the introductions, his impressive height making the frame of the door a little bit of a hazard. He was wearing a floor length black latex apron but all that did was elongate his already tall frame even further; it stopped at his ankles, revealing polished black dress shoes that were a compliment to his black slacks and the white button-up dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had on a bow-tie that was red rather than black, and that fiery crimson adornment drew Monica’s eyes further up to the same blaze of red that surrounded his head like a halo. Gladwyn Charles was a true redhead, his hair the color of blood, a stain of rose around his pale skin and he wore it long, braided and over his broad right shoulder. it nearly reached his waist, but it seemed even the braid couldn’t tame all the wavy strands, as curls sprang free to frame his square features, brushing the hollow of his freckled cheeks. Gladwyn had a dusting of freckles not unlike stars across the bridge of his nose and the crest of his cheeks, bringing Monica’s gaze to his long lashes and the deep, rich forest green of expressive bright eyes. His glasses were perched a little low on his nose; the frames were silver and square, fashionable and sleek, but Gladwyn’s smile didn’t speak of arrogance that came with wealth. The smile was big and bright, but as Monica continued to stare at him it only seemed to grow...bigger, brighter, reminding her of an animal baring it’s teeth. It was almost aggressive, his smile was so prominent, but nothing dangerous reflected back at her in those eyes--eyes that were riveted to her face. Gladwyn didn’t even turn when he closed the door, keeping his gaze on Monica as he pushed the door closed with one long-fingered hand.

“Ah, Miss Frenzy. It’s an honor to finally meet you,” Gladwyn made a show of wiping his hand one final time on his slacks before offering it to Monica. “Miss Dreadful has told me so much about you. I feel like I already know you.”

Monica stood to take Gladwyn’s offered hand. “M...Monica, please. And your name is...?”

“Gladwyn.” He laughed a little sheepishly, but still hadn’t taken his eyes off hers. “I know it’s a little unusual. You can call me Glad if you’d like. Or Charles, or Charlie. Even Smiley!”

From her desk, Dot’s eyebrow rose. “Smiley?”

“It’s a nickname from college.” Gladwyn answered Dot, eyes still on Monica as he kept hold of her petite hand. “Because I smile all the time.”

Monica would have ventured to bet it had more to do with Gladwyn’s smile being...hard to forget. It was almost painfully wide, as if he were the world’s nicest man. She gave Gladwyn’s hand a firmer shake, and though he released her hand...she felt the reluctance. She’d let his hand go several dozen seconds before he finally released her, but she tried to push that from her mind. Dot had warned her years ago that morticians were sometimes...odd. Like those who work in IT, only certain people want to play with the dead all day long; typically it’s those who don’t play well with the living. Gladwyn was probably just a little awkward from interacting with those who can’t interact back, day in and day out.

“Nice to meet you, Gladwyn.” Monica stressed his name, ensuring she said it right. Gladwyn’s eyes brightened.

“I assure you, Miss Frenzy, the pleasure’s all mine.”

“Monica, please.”

Gladwyn paused, his throat working before he spoke, inclining his head down in a show of respect and slight reverence. “...Monica.”

With Gladwyn much closer, Monica was able to discern even more from the tall mortician--like his tattoos. She could see at least four, though three of them were thick black bands on his left wrist, leading up to his elbow. When he finally turned to face Dot, Monica was petite enough to see there was a smiley face tattooed behind his right ear. Smiley really did seem to be a moniker that fit this unusual mortician. Gladwyn was tall and thin, but he wasn’t without some muscle mass. Now that he was closer, Monica could see his forearms and biceps laced with sinewy muscle, likely from lifting dead weight all day, and though his slacks left a little more to the imagination she assumed his entire frame was the same way., and she’d felt for herself how strong his hands were. Gladwyn was definitely not what came to mind when one thought of the word mortician; well, except for that smile. That was not a normal man’s smile, but Monica also couldn’t put her finger on what was wrong with it. Did he smile with too many teeth? Was it just too...eager? She shook her head slightly as if to clear it, moving to take her seat again--almost startled back into standing with Gladwyn extended his arm to help her into her seat before he took the chair next to her. When she looked up at him, intending to thank him, he smiled at her and her voice died in her throat. Eager was definitely a good word to describe Gladwyn’s smile.

Little did Monica know, but eager was a good word to describe Gladwyn Charles as a whole. The Dalliance’s newest hire initially comes across to others as unassuming, even if he was on the tall side with a head full of long, flaming curls. Gladwyn never minded that he had a tendency to blend in a little in the background; he’s perfectly fine with allowing someone else the spotlight because he’s a perfectly polite gentleman. Nice guys may finish last but Gladwyn would happily smile in the face of anyone quipping that at him with a, “True, but the tortoise always beat the hare, didn’t he?” before turning back to the task at hand. Gladwyn has gone through life with the intelligence to understand human nature, and the self-awareness to know he doesn’t always fit in. He’s aware he’s a little awkward but that awareness also allows him to fake it, to cover his tendency to make others uncomfortable with a self-deprecating joke or by being so polite others simply can’t be rude to him. If one were to ask Gladwyn he’s not sure why others are so put off by his smile; he thinks his smile looks just fine! After all, he practices in the mirror. His teeth are straight and white, and his eyes sparkle a little when he smiles--so what could possibly be wrong with him? Friends in the past have told him he just looks a little “creepy” or “crazy” when he smiles, to maybe try not smiling so widely...but if he’s happy, why shouldn’t he smile with all his teeth? For all his intelligence, Gladwyn can’t figure some aspects of human nature out, and that was one of them. Being too eager, too friendly, too clingy was perceived as a bad thing and he just didn’t understand that. That was why none of his friends ever stuck around for long. That was why none of his previous relationships ever worked out. Gladwyn simply cared too much. He was simply too eager.

Gladwyn slowly lowered himself into the chair across from Monica, eager green eyes devouring her in a way he knew he had to get under control, it wasn’t socially acceptable for him to stare this long but it was an enormous struggle. He’d never seen anyone so beautiful before in his entire life. Dot had told him a lot about Monica, he’d listened with his usual attentiveness but now, now he was calling upon his memory for every single detail from his previous conversations with his employer for the tiniest morsel he could glean about Monica. Even as his mind worked, his eyes did their job in committing everything he could about her to memory; her bone structure was impeccable, feather-light and delicate, and he ran his tongue over his suddenly dry lips at the urge to pepper kisses along her jaw just to follow that tempting line to her throat. Monica sat like an empress in the high-backed chair, her posture so regal he felt the urge to shy away, to shrink back because he didn’t deserve to be so close to her...but how could he not be? Who could possibly stand to be away from such an ethereal creature? Was she even real? Gladwyn’s long fingers pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the focused lenses providing him with further admirings to commit to memory. Their eyes were the same color, green, but hers were brighter than his, a feminine compliment to his masculinity that made his heart skip a beat in his chest. Her hair was short, a bob that complimented her profile so devastatingly he had to slowly grip his fingers along the arm of his chair to stop from wanting to touch her hair. It shimmered, caught the office lights as if flirting with him, teasing him with how soft it must feel.  And he knew how good she smelled; he caught the wisps of her perfume to the moment he’d stepped into the hallway outside the office and now that he was close enough to scent her effortlessly he focused on dragging the scent of her into his lungs, desperate to commit the scent to memory so he’d be able to recall it at will.

The simple act of meeting had never been so poignant to Gladwyn before in his entire life. How many hundreds of people had he met in his decades of life? None of them compared to this, none of them had ever affected him like this, like Monica. He knew her name was Felina to the public but she’d told him to call her Monica, the same name Dot was able to call her...that must mean something. To Gladwyn, it did. She’d shaken his hand, smiled at him and insisted, twice, that he call her by her birth name. A name intimate, known only to family and friends...that included him, now. How nice of her! How sweet...who would have thought a woman so beautiful, so stunning, would also be so kind?

“Gladwyn?”

The older mortician blinked behind his glasses, before turning to Dot. “Y-Yes? I’m...terribly sorry, I must have spaced out.”

Dot laughed, eyebrows raised. “You are wearing a face mask down there, right? Those are some pretty strong chemicals we work with.”

Gladwyn took the easy out with a gracious laugh, his rich tenor a compliment to that ever-present smile on his pale face. “Yes, of course, of course. A thousand pardons, what were you saying?”

“I was saying, Monica is the one I was telling you about, who will be sitting in my chair here while you’re working down in the morgue. She’ll be handling the operations, managing the rest of the staff and funeral arrangements. She’s got full authority and she knows how this place should run,” Dot looked between Monica and Gladwyn with a smile. “And love, Gladwyn has been familiarizing himself with the morgue downstairs over the past few days, shadowing me, and shouldn’t have any problems handling the hack and slash part of the job.”

Gladwyn cleared his throat slightly, his red brows pulling in at the center as a barb of jealousy seared across his chest. He’d known Dot for a couple weeks, knew her to use terms of endearment liberally and it had never bothered him before, but just now, her use of love directed at Monica rose like bile at the back of his throat. He didn’t particularly like that...and he didn’t particularly understand why.

Monica and Dot were both unaware of Gladwyn’s inner turmoil and confusion, mistaking his throat clearing and the shifting in his seat as mere fidgeting. Monica nodded, returning Dot’s smile before she turned it to Gladwyn.

“Shouldn’t be too much of a problem to keep this place running smoothly while Dot’s gone, right?”

“Hm?” Gladwyn locked gazes with Monica before that smile of his returned in full force. “Oh, I highly doubt it. You seem a very capable woman, Mis--er, Monica.”

Monica’s laughter was a touch nervous at the compliment, most especially coupled with the sincerity behind Gladwyn’s glasses. He held his smile while he held her gaze, and Monica had to resist the urge to blush under such open attention. He was certainly a...nice guy.

“I drew up manuals for both of you while I’m gone, and Gladwyn I told Monica to reach out to me if you guys run into any problems.” Dot tapped Monica’s manual on her desk; Gladwyn’s was down in the morgue and he’d already been making use of it. “The Staff has already been prepped to treat the two of you as co-owners while I’m gone, so you shouldn’t have any issues there either.”

“Seems you really have thought of everything, Miss Dreadful.” Gladwyn sat back in his seat; his gaze appeared to be on Dot...but he was watching Monica out of the corner of his eye.

“I highly doubt it,” Dot replied, resting her chin on her hand. “But, I trust Monica and with you here to help her, Glad, hopefully it won’t be too rocky for her.”

“You have my word, I’ll look out for her.” Gladwyn’s smile was once again aimed at Monica. “She’ll be in good hands.”

A nervous flutter of butterflies rushed up Monica’s ribcage and she had to look away; Gladwyn was clearly a man who wore his heart on his sleeve and the genuine show of emotion in his eyes, on his face, made her nervous. Who was so nice this early on? Was it possible for someone to just...be this kind? It had to be, because here he was, giving her a million-watt smile with promise written all over his face.

“Then I guess there’s only one thing left to do.”

Monica took the reprieve where it was offered, looking up at Dot. “What’s that?”

Dot gave her a smile, looking between Monica and Gladwyn with her hands out in a gesture. “How about dinner?”

The Tower was a high-end restaurant with an established clientele, but there was nowhere New Senzannini’s literary elite and established death beautician couldn’t eat if they wanted to. There was no need for a reservation and the trio were ushered from the hostess podium to the best table in the restaurant, immediately; afforded their privacy but with attentive staff at the ready. Dot eased down into her cushioned seat with a sigh of relief to be off swollen ankles but it was something Monica missed, because Gladwyn was standing beside her chair with it pulled out for her, gesturing to it with that curious smile of his. She offered him a nervous but grateful smile in return as she slowly sat down, startled at how easily he settled her against the table. Even for the muscle she’d seen he was stronger than he looked, but Gladwyn would argue she weighed next to nothing at all. He had half a mind to order for her to ensure she was even eating enough; a thought that darkened his brow as he settled into his own chair to Monica’s left. Now that they were out of the Mortuary, Monica could see all of him as he was out of his apron and he filled out his tailored suit well. He’d also rebraided his hair before coming out and with his wealth of hair pulled back from his face in an elegant french braid, Monica had to admire Gladwyn. He was a handsome man. As if sensing her staring, he turned to face her, his smile catching the ambient lighting and she had a new appreciation for his bone structure, the way the shadows flirted with the hollows of his cheeks, the high cut of his brow.

“I’ve never eaten here. Have you?”

“A-Ah, a few times,” Monica nodded. “I’m...surprised you haven’t.”

“Why’s that?” Gladwyn’s head tilt reminded her of a puppy.

“You...well, don’t mind me saying so but you look like you come from money.” Monica was hopeful the low lighting of the intimate restaurant hid her blush well enough as she moved her napkin to her lap.

“Why would I mind such a sweet compliment?” Gladwyn’s voice was rich and warm as he regarded Monica. “I do, come from money, but I don’t get out much. Surely Miss Dreadful has explained we morticians don’t keep much living company?”

Monica couldn’t help the laugh. “I a-am her only friend.”

“Hey hey,” Dot snapped her cloth napkin before pointing between the two of them. “That is a thousand percent by choice. Other people are the worst.”

“I’m not gonna argue with that,” Monica put her hands up, but as she moved to take the menu from their waiter, she was surprised to momentary silence when Gladwyn reached over, took her menu, and then handed it to her. “T-Thank you.”

“Of course.” Gladwyn’s tone was still warm, amiable, but he cut his eyes to the waiter as if daring the other male to say something. When the server cleared his throat and turned his attention to Dot, Gladwyn returned his gaze to Monica and his entire posture relaxed. His smile had never wavered.

The entire premise of dinner between the three had been Dot’s way of breaking the ice between her best friend and the new hire at the mortuary. She didn’t want to leave Monica with this new mortician for hours and hours a day, for weeks, perhaps months, without forming a sort of tentative relationship between the two, for Monica’s comfort level more than anything else. Part of why she’d hired Gladwyn was because he was such a nice guy. She’d called every colleague, boss, and even two of Gladwyn’s college professors to run him through the wringer to make sure he came out squeaky clean but every test Dot put him through, he passed. Everyone had something nice to say about Gladwyn, that he was an eager student, a polite co-worker, a diligent employee. He never called in sick, he never had any brushes with the law; hell, one of Gladwyn’s old employers stated he actually said, “Please,” and “I’m sorry,” to corpses if he mishandled them or when he needed to do something particularly invasive. Gladwyn was polite to a fault, and he was a certified nice guy. Granted, a couple people had mentioned his smile giving them the creeps, and Dot had to admit there was something a little off about it, but you can’t judge a guy by his smile, right? Besides, finding a mortician who wasn’t considered at least a little creepy was like finding a needle in a haystack. Dot had interviewed enough fish-eyed weirdos to know, Gladwyn was as good as she was going to get on such short notice. Judging by the swelling in her ankles just from the walk from the Mortuary to her truck and then into the restaurant, Dot was days away from being confined to bed--so as the saying goes, beggars can’t be choosers.

Still, Dot lifted her water glass to her mouth as she looked between Monica and Gladwyn; they seemed to be hitting it off well. Gladwyn’s smile was a prominent thing, Dot noticed he really did smile all the time, but it seemed different when he looked at Monica. Dot noticed things like this, she paid attention, but it didn’t raise any alarm bells. He simply seemed to really enjoy Monica’s company and honestly who wouldn’t? Dot had been friends with the other woman for over a decade; she knew the kind of effect Monica had on others and even if Monica would deny it to her grave, Dot knew better. Gladwyn was proof enough; the man was hanging off her every word. Dinner would be the first step to solidifying a good relationship between the two, and as long as this went well, Dot would be confident in going on maternity leave knowing her best friend, and her place of business, were in good hands.

“So, I know plenty about you Gladwyn but Monica doesn’t,” Dot turned to the duo as the waiter took their drink orders to the bar. “Why don’t you tell her a little about yourself?”

Gladwyn would have opened a vein to get Monica to talk about herself, but he swallowed that graphic visual with that smile of his, moving his hands to his lap as he nodded a few times, his attention swiveling to Monica effortlessly. “Well, what about you like to know?”

Monica blinked a few times, unsure what to ask. She floundered a little before blurting out. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Corpse blue.”

Gladwyn dropped his reply like a body onto the table, so serious in his delivery that Monica was left staring at him, her eyebrows slowly creeping upward. “R-Really?”

“Oh, no!” Gladwyn shook his head with a rich laugh. “I’m sorry, no, that was a little mortician humor. It’s just blue, my favorite color is blue, it’s just, you know the corpses turn blue when they’re frozen. I thought I’d have a little fun with it.”

Dot rolled her eyes as she reached for a hot roll from the bread basket at the center of the table. “You know our type of jokes never go over well with anyone.” She gave him a pointed look as she tore open the steaming bread. “Especially when they’re that corny.”

Gladwyn’s laugh was sheepish but genuine, and Monica had to respect a guy who could laugh at himself.

Throwing him a bone, she joined in the laughter, nodding. “No, no, I get it! That was, that was clever.”

Gladwyn paused at the compliment, his posture straightening not unlike a flower given a little bit of sunlight. His eyes were riveted to watching Monica’s chest rise and fall with her laughter, his own pulse quickening as he swallowed around his attraction to her. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? No one ever really laughed at his jokes; he knew they were a little awkward and probably not in the best humor, but she called it clever. She thought he was clever. His pulse reflected just how much he liked that, basked in that knowledge, that such a beautiful woman found his wit to be...worthy of her beautiful laugh. It had sent him over the moon to walk into this restaurant with her; he saw the way heads turned, the whispers that the Felina Frenzy was here and though he felt that curious jealousy again, part of him using his impressive height to shield her from inquisitive, needy stares, there was also pride that he was there with her. That others recognized she was there with him. He really liked that thought.

“May I ask the lady’s favorite color?” Gladwyn took the opportunity to get to know Monica same as she was doing with him. He was eager to know her inside and out.

Monica gestured with a smile. “Blue, too.”

It may not be a monumental thing, sharing the same favorite color as someone else; there are only so many colors in the rainbow, after all--but Gladwyn felt that connection like a bolt of lightning. They...they shared a favorite thing? It brightened his smile, widened it until he felt his cheeks ache but he welcomed the sensation. It made him so happy!

“Excellent choice,” he complimented with a conspirator’s playful wink, trying to play it cool when inside, his heart was turning somersaults. Monica’s laughter was light but genuine and it was wreaking havoc on Gladwyn’s nerves, shredding him until he was rubbed raw, left vulnerable to the next tempting thing she was planning to do. He swallowed again, looking up gratefully as their drinks were brought to the table.

“That better be a virgin,” Monica eyed Dot’s Bloody Mary, and Dot gave her a playful look.

“Only thing about me that is, obviously,” she gestured to her generous bump before taking a sip of the blood red concoction.

“What did you get?” Monica turned to Gladwyn, trying to keep the conversation between them going. She knew without having to ask Dot that the reason they’d come to dinner was so she and Gladwyn could get better acquainted...it just helped he was easy to talk to.

“Ah, you’ve caught me, I’m afraid.” Gladwyn lifted his foaming glass with a sheepish grin. “It’s a Dry Stout. I’m Irish every day of the year, not only on St. Paddy’s.”

Monica eyed the glass; it was so dark she couldn’t see through it, and almost resembled coffee though she knew it to be an ale. She laughed a little at his joke, missing his grin brightening in response as she was still admiring his drink choice.

“What have you gotten?” Gladwyn took a swig of his drink, curious eyes on Monica’s beverage choice. It was peach-colored, bubbly, and served in a long-stemmed champagne glass.

“It’s a Gigi,” Monica supplied. “My family is originally from Italy so I’m pretty well-versed in expensive cocktails from Europe.”

Gladwyn’s laughter was honest and washed over Monica as he gave her his undivided attention; she could definitely respect that the man was genuine, there didn’t seem to be anything fake about him in the few hours she’s known him. It was laughter she joined in on, picking up her flute for a gentle, feminine sip.

Gladwyn watched her without blinking, committing her movement to memory with ease; she moved with the grace of a feline, her manicured nails a compliment to the expensive cocktail kissing her lips the way he longed to do--Gladwyn came from wealth and affluence, he knew what it was to be among the elite but Monica was simply on another level. It didn’t surprise him in the slightest to hear her family was of money, she carried herself like a queen and why shouldn’t she? Her throat worked as she swallowed and Gladwyn felt it like a punch to his gut; his muscles actually tightened, his abdomen turning flips as he struggled to get his attraction under control. Monica was doing something awful to him, stealing all his attention and he’d never once felt such a strong pull to another human being in his entire life. The more time he spent in her company, the less he was confused by what was happening. Love at first sight wasn’t an easy thing to dismiss, but it was an easy thing to pin.

“It’s probably rude to ask your age, Gladwyn, but I’m having a hard time pinning you,” Monica set her glass down, meeting Gladwyn’s gaze effortlessly--because he was already looking at her. “So can I ask?”

“You can ask whatever you like, my dear.” Gladwyn would have aged himself with such a formal saying, but at least the slight accent in his rich tenor made sense now that he’d given away his heritage (as if his hair and freckles hadn’t been enough indication) and that endearment certainly came out smoother than the ale in his hand. “But I’m thirty-seven years old.”

“You don’t look it,” Monica reassured, but that was only partially true. Gladwyn didn’t look to be near his forties, but he carried himself that way, and his smile had some age behind it. Likely, due to his ever-present smile, he also had smile lines near the corners of his mouth and around his eyes.

These lines deepened at her compliment and Gladwyn reached over, putting his surprisingly warm hand on her knee. “Thank you, Monica. That’s incredibly sweet of you to say.”

Monica’s gaze dropped to Gladwyn’s long fingers and she felt him squeeze her knee in response; he made no move to remove his hand and she didn’t...know if she should consider this forward of him or not. She was dressed in black slacks and a ruffle-sleeve button-up, having wanted to start looking the part of boss since she would be taking over for Dot but she could feel the heat of Gladwyn’s hand through the fabric of her pants. She would, for some reason, have assumed his hands would be cold as the corpses he worked on daily, but his hands more closely resembled the fire of his hair.

Gladwyn hadn’t even thought before he touched her--he just acted, closed the distance between them as if he had to do it. He cursed that she was wearing slacks and not a skirt, a dress, so anxious was he to feel her soft skin. He knew it was softer than a lily would be, and he knew she smelled sweeter, too. He slowly dragged his gaze up from his hand on her knee, up her front to lock gazes with her and he searched her face--not for signs of refusal but for acceptance. She had to feel what he felt, didn’t she? There was no way only one soulmate would be feeling the instant connection, the attraction that was driving him to complete distraction. There was no other way to describe what he was feeling but soulmate; everything about her clicked like a puzzle piece Gladwyn had been missing his entire life. She didn’t shy away from his smile, she shared the same favorite color as he did; she laughed at his jokes and she found him to be clever. He knew she thought he was nice because she allowed him to pull out her chair for her and she wasn’t pulling away from his touch, now. She had to be feeling what he was...perhaps she was simply shy? Well, of course she was, she was a proper lady. A right beautiful one. A woman who deserved to be wooed properly, courted in the way a man of Gladwyn’s upbringing could. His smile deepened, and he gave her knee another longing squeeze before he slowly, reluctantly removed it. He wouldn’t push his luck, now that he was more convinced she shared what he was feeling, that slow-burning but all-consuming fire that was licking at his heart like flames.

“Are we ready to order?”

The server started at the head of the table, or perhaps it was simply Dot being pregnant, but it allowed Gladwyn a moment to wrangle with his returning jealousy--because any moment, the man was going to turn to Monica and speak to her...and Gladwyn really hated that. He was staring, unseeing, at his own menu, his mind narrowing to how he was going to...deal with this. He’d never considered himself a jealous man before, had never felt such raw, biting emotion in all his life but then he hadn’t known his soulmate before today. Monica was beautiful, a siren’s call to any man and while he would never blame her for such beauty, no it was his good fortune she was breath-taking, he didn’t have to like others noticing her. His eyes slipped from his menu, moving discreetly to Monica and again, he felt his pulse spike, his throat run dry, and he fidgeted in his seat. If he needed proof, he had it; physical proof. His body reacted every single time he looked at her.

“And you, Miss?”

Monica shifted, her eyes on her menu. “I’ll have--”

“Would you order for me, Monica?”

Gladwyn interjected into the conversation without much forethought; he was only grateful what he’d said made sense. Monica seemed to flounder a little, and he could regret catching her off-guard...but she took her attention off the waiter and it reinforced he’d done the right thing. Gladwyn had to fight to keep his smile from going smug that he’d so easily gotten her attention back.

“O-Of...course, but I don’t really know you very well?” Monica faltered, looking worried. “What if...I order something you won’t like?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.” Gladwyn set his menu down on his plate with his smile lighting his eyes. “You have impeccable taste. You can’t steer me wrong if it’s good enough for you.”

Monica’s smile was still nervous, still unsure, but Gladwyn looked like he’d made up his mind and she could only nod, turning to order for herself...and for him.

It was a small compromise, Gladwyn still hated that she spoke to the waiter, loathed that the man was admiring her so openly, but at least he’d staked something of a claim on her in front of the other male. It made him feel better, sated his childish, unfounded jealousy--no, it wasn’t unfounded! He had a right to her, to the other half of his soul. That was how it worked. That was the reward for the way he felt about her; he felt so strongly, of course he wouldn’t want someone else looking at her, thinking about her. No one had the right to even dream of touching her, no one except him.

Dinner did what Dot had intended...and it did a little more than she’d intended, at the same time. The two hours passed by in the blink of an eye, the trio exchanging stories, learning about one another and as the time passed, the more Gladwyn became convinced of what he felt to be true. Monica was the other half of his soul, the fabled soulmate promised to hopeless romantics and skeptics alike. She was perfect; she was beautiful, hauntingly so, in that he knew she would be in his dreams tonight--if he was able to sleep from wanting her. She was witty, humorous, intelligent; she was clever and her sarcasm was so biting he nearly wished to be at the receiving end just to feel the scrape of her teeth. When Monica smiled she stole the light from the room; she was radiant, and Gladwyn felt himself drowning every time she turned that smile to him. Her voice was what silk was made of, sliding over his skin until twice he’d nearly dropped his fork against his plate when she said his name. It was...too soon, perhaps, to think of late nights with her body wrapped around his but he couldn’t stop himself from going there, from crossing that sordid line because she aroused him so fervently his appetite was of an entirely different sort. He’d finished two stouts in the hopes it would douse the fire building in his belly but all it did was warm him further, made his brain a little hazy so that the lines between right and wrong blurred further. He was seated beside an angel, his angel, and the expensive food turned sour in his mouth for want to sample her instead.

This must be what it felt like to be lovesick, to be so enamored with one’s adoration that food and drink lose their taste. Gladwyn seemed to have fallen down the rabbit hole with no hope to catch himself on the sides--would he have? If he were honest with himself, no, he wouldn’t have. He dove headfirst down this trap, chasing Monica’s laugh, her voice, the way she looked at him, smiled at him. The way she made him feel should be criminal, he was already so addicted to the man he was when she looked at him. The glasses were emptied, the bill was paid, and all too soon reality was severing his time with Monica and for a fleeting moment he panicked at the void that would be left when they went their separate ways for the night.

“Thank you, Gladwyn,” Monica stood with his help as he pulled her chair out for her, and his smile was a little subdued but still present as he held up her jacket, for her to slip into it.

“It’s cold outside,” he prompted, fighting to keep the hard edge from his voice when it seemed she was going to simply take it from him. He wanted her to wear it. He wouldn’t have her catching cold, and his smile broadened when she slipped her arms into it. “There we are. That’s better, hm?”

Monica’s smile was a touch shy as Gladwyn’s large hands rubbed up her arms, smoothing her jacket and warming her further beneath the expensive fabric. He placed his hand at the small of her back, giving his head a nod toward the door and he tailored his steps to match hers despite their staggering height difference.

“So, what do you two think?” Dot turned from the front door of the restaurant, the valet sprinting out into the snow to retrieve her truck. “Think you’ll be okay to work together for a while?”

Monica turned to look up at Gladwyn but he was already looking at her, and he gestured to Dot with a nod of his head. “Ladies first.”

“I-I, yes, I don’t see any problems.” Monica gave Dot a smile, knowing Dot would be looking for any signs that Monica wasn’t comfortable--this would be a question Dot would ask again when the two were alone in her truck.

“I’m delighted to hear that, as I can assure I’m very much looking forward to working with Monica.” Gladwyn tore his smile away from Monica when he felt Dot was still staring at him. “You’ll be fine to relax at home, Miss Dreadful. We’ll have no problems working together.”

Dot looked between Gladwyn and Monica, making a thoughtful noise at the back of her throat but she nodded, her smile reaching her eyes. “Good. Then you’ll be in charge of the morgue 7AM, Monday morning, Mr. Charles.”

Gladwyn gave Dot a nod, but his attention was already turning to Monica as Dot’s truck rolled to a stop in front of the restaurant. He moved his hand from the small of her back, already loathing the space between their bodies and knowing there’d be more, much more, over the weekend. It was all he could do to keep himself calm with the reassurance that he’d be working very closely with Monica on Monday.

“It was a pleasure getting to know you, Monica. I’m very much looking forward to continuing to get to know you during our time together.” Gladwyn bowed his spine, no hesitation as he pressed his lips to her cheek. “I will see you soon. Take care of yourself until then.”

Monica’s fingers trembled as they settled on Gladwyn’s arm, and she felt his hand steady her waist in response. “H-Have a nice weekend, Gladwyn. I’ll see y-you Monday.”

“I look forward to it.” Gladwyn straightened up, replacing his hand in his pant’s pocket, watching Monica take hold of Dot’s arm, the two girls leaning on one another as the valet opened the door into the winter cold.

Without a word, he gave his keys to the valet but kept his gaze on Monica as she entered the truck, and as they drove off, he kept his gaze riveted to the vehicle disappearing in New Senzannini’s generous traffic. It wasn’t until Monica was out of sight that he was able to look away, the spell of her presence lifted enough for him to feel...completely and utterly alone. The smile dropped off his face fast enough to shatter on the marble floor beneath his dress shoes, and the valet nearly tripped coming back inside after retrieving Gladwyn’s car.

It would seem the only thing creepier than Gladwyn’s smile was when he didn’t smile, but for the first time in his life, he found he had no reason to, at the moment. The reason was currently driving further and further away from him, to live a life separate from him, where she didn’t have to think about him, didn’t have to see him, where he couldn’t see her, where he couldn’t touch her...

...for now.

Gladwyn pushed open the restaurant doors with one strong hand, ignoring the biting cold wind as he stalked toward his waiting car. Monday wasn’t too far away. Besides, the weekend gave him time to prepare, to make room in his life for a very special new someone. It had to be perfect. Everything had to be perfect.

Just like she was.

Stay tuned! ♥ Next Update: February 17th!