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“Are you mad that I won’t drink alcohol? That’s kind of dumb.” Aggie raised an eyebrow. “I’ll drink water with you but I don’t think that really matches. How about I just down a fuckton of sugar?”

 ‘    it  would’ve  been  rude  of  me  not  to  offer  you  a  glass ,     don’t  flatter  yourself .   ‘       such  hostile  misgivings  are  not  a  complete  turn - off  for  gellert ,    though  some  part  of  him  does  find  annoyance  at  the  ends  of  his  tattered  buzz .      ‘     how  about  you  leave  the  attitude  at  home ,    it  doesn’t  suit  you .  ‘

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“I don’t usually drink alcohol.” Aggie said. “Not that I’m judging, just. You know. Whatever.”

furst  suppresses  what  little  control  in  his  own  amusement  he  has ,     choosing  to  instead  indulge  in  the  last  of  his  glass .       ’     COURTESY .      such  a  little  goes  a  long  way .    ‘

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  '    ---  whiskey .    want  some ?   ‘

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❝ o-oh, yes - yes of course. there’s n-not much to t-tell you, though, s-sir. my p-parents died when i was y-young and i grew up a-alone. i ..❞ he thought for a moment, ❝ i became a t-teacher - math and physics, there’s n-nothing i l-love more, but i only t-taught math until they t-took me.❞ he bit his lip, glancing away for a split second. ❝ w-went out with colleagues, w-woke up h-here.❞ he didn’t think it was much of a secret that not every slave was at the House because they wanted to. ❝ i l-like sweet things.❞ he beamed, nodding. the sweeter, the better. ❝ i’m.. i used to r-read a lot.❞ now not anymore. the library wasn’t a place he was allowed to go unless he paid to take the day off.

how  quaint.   a  school  teacher ,   what  else  could  james  have  been ?    the  older  idly  wonders  what  had  drawn  him  to  the  math’s  and  sciences  persuasion  when  clearly  he  belonged  somewhere  softer ,  perhaps  in  the  den  of  a  pre - school .    furst  obviously  had  his  own  training  in  either  subject ,   a  masters  in  math  before  he’d  decided  to  practice  law ,    but  it  doesn’t  interest  him  to  know  about  school  any  longer .   he  was  an  old  man  now ,    these  sorts  of  things  seemed  trivial  in  comparison .    ‘    and  now  you  do  not .  coffee  seems  a  poor  substitute ,    though  I  do  hope  you’ll  enjoy  this .   ‘     and  so:   slides  the  cup  to  him  softly ,     placing  a  napkin  nearby.    ‘     what  do  you  enjoy  reading ? ‘

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Well, great. For some reason, he felt like he’d walked right into another trap because of yet another stupid mistake, and it frustrated and infuriated him. He was still great at hiding what he was truly feeling and didn’t let that show, though. “Oh my. It seems I’ve misinterpreted the question, sir. I guess your accent confused me a bit. No offense. Just, I’m sorry, I’ll make sure to not make any mistakes of that kind again,” he apologized quickly, his mind working on a way to chance the subject. “By the way, sir, have you been enjoying the city so far?”

american’s  were  simply  all  the  same ,    weren’t  they ?    gellert  looks  on  with  distaste ,    quietly  resigning  himself  to  see  out  the  conversation  out  of  his  own  moral  alignment .     ‘    quite  disappointed ,    it’s  such  a  dirty  little  town .    no  history  in  the  soil ,    nor  the  people .   ‘        he  sees  the  man’s  own  need  for  amusement  to  comfort  himself ,    it’s  practically  palpable:   and  what  is  left  when  such  is  taken  away ? NOTHING.    no  personality ,    nothing  of  interest .   gellert  sincerely  hopes  there’s  more  to  him  than  his  pretty  mouth ,    it’d  be  a  shame  to  pass  this  one  up .      ‘     I  urge  you  to  speak  freely ,      pretend  that  we  are  old  friends.   skip  the  needless  shit  you ,  nor i ,   care  about .   ‘

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I want to wrap my fingers around your pretty little neck; I want to hear you gasp and moan when I do it

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james watched in awe as the other man went to actually make him coffee - with his hands. he stood a little awkwardly as he watched him, blushing just a little under the other’s gaze. ❝ o-oh, yes, i trust your taste in coffee.❞ james wasn’t much of a coffee person, at least not when it came to certain brands. he’d always just .. bought his at the local shop and drank it on his way to work or afterwards. ❝ with sugar, p-please.❞ he drank his coffee sweetened, bitter coffee gave him goosebumps. he sat when told to, hands folded in his lap. boy. was he that much younger? ❝ that’s v-very kind of you, mr. f-fürst. ❞ and he meant it.

gellert  doesn’t  do  much  but  take  his  word  into  consideration  into  how  he’ll  make  his  cup  anyway ,    instead  pressing  his  own  sweetened  twist  on  the  stuff .     the  coffee  in  america  was   much  simpler  than  he’d  grown  up  with ,     scandanavia  had  accustomed  the  man  to  an  entirely  different  taste  and  if  he  were  honest  he  didn’t  enjoy  it  much .     ‘    speak  to  me ,   I’d  like  to  hear  your  story   ---   your  interests ,   thoughts .  ‘    the  man  gazes  playfully  at  james ,     can’t  help  but  do  so.     ‘     almond  milk  is  sweeter  than  cream ,    so  tell  me  if  you  don’t  enjoy  it .    there  is  also  nutmeg  and  some  chocolate ,     something  of   a  treat  where  I  come  from .    ‘     gellert  doesn’t  specify  that  this  treat  was  for  children ,    but  it  does  appeal  to  those  with  a  sweet  tooth .

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james nodded that he understood. he didn’t think he’d met anyone like mr. fürst before, the other masters ( he had to be a master, he couldn’t not be) were different - or maybe he just hadn’t met too many yet. a soft smile played around his lips, the other’s eyes on him didn’t go unnoticed, but james knew that was a normal thing for slaves. to be looked at. ❝ y-yes, i’d love that - thank y-you, mr. f-fürst. ❞

the  common  area  of  the  slave  house  was  stocked  with  all  what  he’d  need  for  a  nice  cup ,      not  that  he’d  drink  it  himself .     gellert  simply  goes  about  making  one  for  the  boy ,     glancing  to  and  fro  so  that  he  may  quell  his  hungry  gaze .      ‘     I  do  recommend  a  nice  dark  roast ,      but  today  we  will  go  for  something  less  bitter .      I’m  afraid  I  can’t  do  much  more  than  the  french  press  here ,     so  the  keurig  will  have  to  do .     how  do  you  take  your  cup ?   ‘      the  musical  lilt  of  his  words  are  foreign  and  from  far  across  some  ocean ,      terribly  subtle  in  the  lift  of  his  question .       ‘      sit ,    my  boy .  ‘

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❝ o-oh. ah, thank you, s-sir. ❞ james’ breath caught in his throat when the stranger closed the distance between them, standing so far in his personal space he found it ridiculous to even call it that in his mind. he didn’t budge, he stood there like a tree, even though his heart beat so fast he heard it thrum in his ears. ❝ i-it’s james, sir. ❞ he ended his little introduction with the hint of a bow, eyes never leaving the stranger’s.

   ‘   mr .  furst    ---   you  may  call  me  mr . furst .     ‘       he  enjoys  looking  upon  james ,    he  is  rather  pretty.  there  are  little  things  he  enjoys  more  than  looking  upon  beautiful  things ,     but  enjoying  the  presence  of  something  beautiful  is  close  to  the  top  of  that  list.     ‘   would you like some coffee ? ‘

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❝ o-oh. that um, it doesn’t m-matter. it’s um… where i was b-born and raised. ❞ not that that mattered much, it hadn’t influenced him a lot, probably not at all. “ they just t-taught us to respect o-others, to n-never forget out m-manners even when it’s easier. ❞ never let your temper take over.

    ‘   I  admire  that  in  a  man ,     however ,     ‘      gellert  gives  into  a  guilty  pleasure  of  his ,    pushing   himself  forward  so  that  he  may  look  closer ,    pushing  james’  to  retreat  or  take  his  scrutiny.  he  has  high  hopes  for  both  outcomes ,    but  he  does  hope  the  man  takes  his  proximity  in  stride .     ‘   you  do  manage  to  wear  it  quite  handsomely .     what’s  your  name ,   boy ?  ‘

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One better look at the man’s smile was enough for Kyle to conclude that the Master was probably the type os person that he’d really love to not have to deal with. Of course, Kyle’d find a Master like that rather sooner than later. “Gotham City, from Batman. Like the comics and the movies, you know?” Kyle explained, keeping his mask of an ignorant good slave. “I’m sorry, sir, it’s just a joke. I’ve come from a pretty average family, there isn’t much to talk about.”

mr . furst  doesn’t  shy  away  from  the  boy’s  gaze  when  it  turns  up  for  inspection ,     rather  he  takes  pleasure  in  meeting  it  head  on  ---   waiting  for  him  to  blink ,    to  glance  away .      it  takes  a  moment  for  the  man  to  recall  what  he’s  on  about .     he  hasn’t  been  living  under  a  stone ,    he  knows  of  those  silly  comics  for  children .      ‘     I’m  merely  asking  which  part  of  the  house  you’ve  come  from ,    your  family  isn’t  of  interest.   unless  you’d  like  it  to  be .   ‘

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Thomas blushed before writing in his notepad, “California.” He only thought it was nice to offer tea to people, especially when he had nothing better to do.

   furst  watches  on  with  something  of  interest ,     though  minor  annoyance  is  hid  when  the  man  fishes  for  a  notepad;     he  mutely  wonders  just  how  such  a  creature  would  hold  up  in  bed ,     if  one  could  at  all  or  perish  under  his  rule .       ‘    a  native ,      then.     will  you  join  me   ----    ....   ah ,    your  name ?   ‘

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Dipping her head momentarily, chuckling at his question—which always seemed to be a must when it came to Texas, she let her gaze meet his again. “You could say that’s true with most things. I mean the state’s big enough to fit some European countries in it. You’re not from around here are ya, darlin’?” Her question was her known southern way of asking where he was from.

gellert  easily  nods  in  agreement ,    unbuttoning  his  jacket  just  enough  to  find  himself  a  seat.    he  hopes  the  intrusion  is  fine,     hopes  she  hadn’t  had  more  to  do  than  speak  with  a  boring  old  man .      furst  brings  a  smile  to  the  surface       ‘     good  eye ,      what  gave  it  away ?  ‘       the  accent ,    most  definitely .    the  teeth,  perhaps.     '    denmark ,     born  and  raised .    france  for  some  number  of  years  as  well !   ‘

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❝ b-being polite, it’s the k-key to everything. even the t-teachers in utah knew..❞ he smiled softly, bowing ever so slightly. new guests, they always had to be treated with the utmost respect so they would return soon.  

furst  gives  a  slight  jut  to  his  jaw ,      clearly  amused  at  what  this  one’s  got  to  say .     he  admires  the  man  silently ,        eating  him  up  without  so  much  as  a  comment  until  he’s  finished  giving  him  the  once  over .  only  then  does  the  older  react  accordingly ,      a  retort  one  might  give  to  a  child  perhaps .     someone  young ,   and  impossibly  delicate:      ‘   and  what  did  they  know ,     these  teachers ?    I’ll  have  to  apologize  for  this ,     I  haven’t  the  slightest  clue  as  to  where  utah  is .   ‘