#i'm sorry i'm not calling anyone out in particular this art just goes so fucking hard

[lakemojave]

Some nerd: "Fictionalizations of Greek mythology are so inaccurate like what's the point of Hades if it's gonna be so unfaithful to these figures"

Supergiant games:

Some nerd: Holy fuck

[simp4konig]

YAYYYY IT'S FRIDAYYYY!!!! FUCKING FINALLY THIS WEEK WA SSO LONG FOR ME 😭😭😭😭

Anyways !!!! vvvvv

hate Hate Hate Hate HATE when some art depicts Nikto as this 10/10 Slavic man in terms of his face!!! Like!!! NO!!! THE MAN IS DISFIGURED AS FUCK. HE IS UGLY. FUCKING UGLY. UUUGLYYY. LET'S NOT KID OURSELVES. WE'RE NOT SIMPING FOR SOME HANDSOME HUNK. IT'S THE CHUNKS OF A MAN WE'RE INTO — NOT TO PUT THEM BACK TOGETHER TO "FIX" LIKE SOME JIGSAW PUZZLE, BUT TO APPRECIATE EVERY SINGLE PIECE!!! EVERY SINGLE DISFIGUREMENT!!! EVERYTHING!!!!!

Ahem. Got carried awya, 💀

Yes yes yes this this this and this!!!vvvvv:

Man is not loyal to anyone. All he is there for is to carry out orders. Not only does he unintentionally (I assume) dissociate when his alters take over, but he intentionally dissociates from the killing. Orders are orders, and a mission is a mission.

"All I need are targets. Just give me targets."

"Don't think of the enemy as human. They are simply targets."

//I actually didn't know that MP-[] stood for "Military Police — [Call-sign]" and that's SO COOL. NIKTO IS SO MUCH COOLER OMG. MILITARY POLICE???

Yes, it's inhumane. But it's what gets the job done. No point getting attached and letting emotional connections or the morality of your actions weigh you down — and no point in particular to be affected by how inhumane his methods are. He's a military, not a humanitarian, and it's not his fault if you get in his way or don't cooperate and risk jeopardising the mission.

"Watch your mouth. Or I'll cut your tongue out."

"You are a means to an end. Then you're nothing.

"I need you for the mission. Nothing more."

Maybe it's just me projecting but my Slavic family doesn't believe in medication either lol (not lol). Getting dependent on drugs to them is like being alcoholics and/or addicted to cigarettes. Don't rlly have an opinion on their logic, but that point of view is actually accurate for Nikto. Having had to rely on nobody but himself, to be dependent on drugs could lead chip away at the self-control he so skillfully mastered, until he's uncontrollable and all he can do is use drugs to dull and mute the voices.

Nikto laughing at other (enemy) soldiers' deaths is SO REAL!!! Some of of his voicelines were:

"Not today, motherfuckers!"

"Trying to kill me?!/You can't kill me!"

"(Laughs) More!"

Like, he's having the time of his life??? It's THRILLING??? EXHILARATING??? It's like it's a game to him lol,, like, he's having SO much fun! (he's killing people and could die at any moment).

Goes back to your point to his confidence on the field. Amazingly put 👏

I feel like he's borderline psychopathic with hints of sadism, since he doesn't strike me as the type to have a conscience per se, unless the voices quieten down and his alters abandon him.

***Actually, scratch that. As I'm writing I feel like he could be all three. Maybe the alters are psychopathic/sociopathic/sadistic respectively, and it's HE who is burdened with the consequences, the morality, and the emotional baggage. Idk tho this came to me as i was writing 🤷🏼‍♀️

//Genuinely terrifying to imagine him storming up to you and demanding you to tell him why you're looking at him id shit myself no joke 😨 the comparison is SO accurate ive felt that way irl 😰

//Him not understanding jokes 💀 HELP 💀💀💀💀

Love you for these headcanons. They're great. Your contribution was great.

BTW these r canon to me now 💕💕💕💕

(not proof read im so sorry but im in a rush ☹️)

Andre Nikto head canons

We have little information about Niko but here's what I've gathered..

((Also I'd like to kindly add, hi, hello, my name is Mika and I am a Bosnian. The chances of me adding some accurate slav head canons are always high but never low!!🙏🏻 ALSO IM TERRIBLY OBSESSED WITH NIKTO SO IF ENJOY THIS AND YOU WANT DATING NIKTO HEAD CANONS PLEASE LET ME KNOWWW))

Genuine head canons:

Andre Nikto (Никто) is a (scary) Russian military man, roughly 193/194 centimetres (when you compare him to Simon's height) He suffers with acute dissociative disorder (better said DID) yet is still serving the military cause of how he preforms during battle.., so the military still views him as a ideal soldier for combat despite his disorder..

No hate but from what I've seen in some art works claiming it's his "face reveal" you people have to understand that under his mask, his face is disfigured.. so, no he won't be an attractive super model under that mask of his..

I don't think you people are aware how badass Nikto is as a character, almost SIMILAR as Ghost who's in the military for the same reason as everybody else, to risk their life.

Although judging by Nikto's voice lines, he doesn't care who he's killing..if it were up to him, if his teammates serve him zero purpose he'd care less if they die..(after all, you're just a target..) but being a professional, he can't allow that to happen to his teammates

If you look up closely, Nikto wears a military uniform that is different from everyone else with MP-0 written on it. Now if you don't know, MP stands for Military Police (enforcement agencies connected with, or part of, the military of a state.) and zero next to it meaning "nothing" and this is important which is what Nikto refers himself as..

Yeah so about that..

I have a theory about Nikto's nickname

After being captured and brutally tortured with whatever sick tendency mister Z had in store for him. It was Mister Z that couldn't really get much Information about Andre.

They would start torturing him while repeating to Andre that he's nothing, he's no one, what he is is nothing but what he is is everything. Those words play in the back of his head and they never seen to go away.

(This is extremely relevant cause Mister Z tried to get to know a bit of Andre by looking through some research come to find his citizenship and language are censored making him a nobody. Keep in mind, if he found any information about Andre viewing from personal life etc. it will be used as blackmail..)

After recovering his scars and taken to therapy after 7 years he was diagnosed with DID

NOW moving on to the DID part

(What I said about the fact that people overlook Nikto's disorder, I mean it..

Some don't really write about his disorder which is fine but when someone does it gets messy. )

Alters aren't easy to deal with, it's actually gonna haunt you till the day that you die cause there's no cure for it. And in Nikto's case it's from PTSD and Nikto is very aware of his alters..

Let me tell you how Nikto's disorder affects him. Switching can be consensual, forced or triggered, Nikto values silence as much as the next person cause he's dealing with much inside his head already. The kind of guy that would "watch TV" while dissociating with a 100 yard glare with very slow blinking and a slight headache..

There are times where his personalities would correct him when hes referring to himself (example: I'm up..(his personality correctes him) WE'RE up..)

"He made us do this" (and other voice lines I can't recall..)

Maybe cut bits of an apple with a knife and eat it while watching TV..

He has medication prescribed for him but he didn't wanna depend on medications cause they're just drugs..they're nothing to him but just drugs..

He has dissociative amnesia too, sometimes he would wander around confused maybe even annoyed. The amnesia appears to be caused by traumatic or stressful experiences endured or witnessed..Although the forgotten information may be inaccessible to consciousness, it sometimes continues to influence behavior

Like I said he likes quiet people, someone who doesn't waste their air on small talk..

Example; don't really talk to him about the weather, unless you have something interesting to say but if the conversation is gonna go nowhere , don't talk..he finds that a waste of time

People assume just because he's Russian that he likes vodka, he doesn't like vodka...-He doesn't like any alcoholic beverage cause it makes his problems a lot worse,...maybe If you were lending him some as an offering, he'll take it but he has SOME self control, he's okay with coffee, though..

It's relevant cause he stays awake at late hours since he finds it difficult to sleep, he'll stay up late with no music, nothing, just a silent room. It doesn't matter if he tries the military tactic where you just close your eyes and turn off your thoughts, it's very different when you have voices screaming inside your head...

Despite everything he's still intelligent, so being smart + strength + sharp reflexes and you got yourself a criminal

Death doesn't phase him, but to him death is like sleeping, he's not scared of death considering that he's been through hell those past few months.

He likes the simple things, don't complicate anything..because he's quick with catching an attitude..be blunt and forward and stumble over your words..

Nikto shows confidence in the battlefield,just like König, except he has a high rush of adrenaline and will laugh at the enemies death.

Fun fact: in this one comic Price calls Nikto "psycho"

And it's without a doubt that he is one.., a sadistic, sociopathic, psychopath

After splitting, his alters can and will get more aggressive and do more harm and damage to others cause they're doing the most at protecting the host.. (depending on the alter, some wanna protect him while some wanna hurt him)

Oh by the way about the intelligence part, I mean he has a good good memory with remembering faces..

He doesn't like people looking at him funny, he'll get angry really fast and annoyed at the same time.., he won't show hesitation when it comes to approaching you and asking you what are you looking at (it's like trying to avoid eye contact with a homeless man Infront of a store, that's how scared you would be)

He's slow with jokes or any form of humor that you throw at him??? You'll be excited to tell him a joke, and when you do he just looks at you and tells you never to do that again..,or just straight up tell you he doesn't get it...??? and probably trying to explain it either he gets it or not he'll still tell you that it's not funny

He doesn't argue, or he does? Arguing with him will costs you avoiding getting objects thrown at you so you can get out of his sight..tragic, now you have a teammate that hates your guts and won't apologize for it.

[kawaiiwamine]

A♥️, 3♥️, 4♥️, 6♥️, 8♥️, 9♥️, 10♥️, Q♥️, K♥️, all of the clubs and diamonds, 2♠️, 3♠️, 5♠️, 6♠️, 7♠️, 8♠️, 9♠️, 10♠️, J♠️, Q♠️, K♠️ I'M KINDA SORRY FOR SENDING SO MANY BUT why choose if i don't really have to i'm craving that iwasweetie content,

👀 here we go

A♥️ - Who was the first person your muse ever fell in love with?

While Shuu had noticed people’s attractiveness before, the first person he ever actually crushed on was Kawara Ryuuji.

3♥️ - How would your muse react to a confession of love?

He’d be shocked, then either flatted or elated (depending on whether he reciprocates) but also a little dubious. He wouldn’t straight up call you a liar, but he would be a little bit like “Are you sure though?”

4♥️ - What are your muse’s thoughts on starting/raising a family?

Shuu likes the fantasy of Having A Family™ in the sense that it’s supposed to be a sign you have your life together. He definitely at least wants to get married. He’s not the kind of person who needs to have kids, but he’s not strictly opposed either. He’s incredibly nervous about the idea, but if you have enough confidence to make up for it and it’s important enough to you, you can probably convince him.

6♥️ - What sort of charity work has your muse done?

He has recurring donations for several charities of different kinds, enough to be a not insignificant part of his paycheck. He doesn’t live in an apartment as nice as he could technically afford and he doesn’t spend a lot on himself, so whatever is leftover after bills and savings is usually donated.

As for actual work, he’ll lend his time to just about anyone. Of course, health-related charities are closest to his heart.

8♥️ - How well does your muse perform in social situations?

Not always the best. He’s kind of an awkward ninny, and he knows it. He can actually have periods of confidence (and even... dare I say it... charisma) if he knows what he’s talking about really well. Otherwise, he’s not usually actively bad but if he starts tripping up, it will probably get worse before it gets better.

9♥️ - Has your muse ever had unrequited feelings for someone?

Oh, you betcha. Kawara Ryuuji being the most notable. Of course, Shuu never actually asked, so he assumes it was unrequited. But the sad thing is he probably wouldn’t have wanted his feelings to be returned because he wouldn’t want to be a homewrecker. Then again, that’s just what he would say now. Whether he would actually have that self-restraint in the moment is up for debate.

10♥️ - What was the last party or social event your muse went to?

A group of friends invited him with them to a party. It sounded like he was going to get laid but then everyone got fucked up on drugs and he got the hell out of dodge when they decided that throwing glassware at each other was the cool new sport.

Q♥️ - Who is someone special that your muse always thinks about?

Hitori, honestly. I know I’m HitoShuu trash but really, that guy just means so much to him.

K♥️ - Who does your muse look up to as a role model?

^^^

A♣️ - What’s your muse’s strongest talent?

He’s a smart cookie! He’s better at some subjects than others (math is his weakness, sorry Hitori) but if he puts enough effort in, he can pick things up pretty damn quick.

2♣️ - What topics of conversation does your muse enjoy the most?

If you start talking about microbiology you better be ready to be there all day because he will not stop.

3♣️ - How creative is your muse?

He doesn’t consider himself an artist at all. He’s not the kind of person “understands” art. And he doesn’t really have any artistic talent at all. But you do have to have some creativity to be an effective researcher, so don’t discredit him too much!

4♣️ - What does your muse have the most passion for?

He loves pretty much all sciences, but if I had to name just one field it would be toxicology.

5♣️ - What would your muse change about their current lifestyle?

He wants to be healthier, and he wants to try to be more in-tune with himself. Meaning that he wants to figure out what he wants because he’s not sure.

6♣️ - How do your muse’s “gut feelings” usually turn out?

He can be a little dense, so they’re not usually very helpful.

7♣️ - Has your muse ever felt “trapped”, either figuratively or literally?

The most trapped he’s ever felt was when he was in his bad depression. He was sure he’d never be able to get out of there.

Other than that, does bondage count?

8♣️ - What is your muse the most stubborn about?

That you’re a beautiful person who deserves to be happy.

9♣️ - What is your muse’s proudest accomplishment?

Well, he doesn’t like to brag, but getting hired for a job at a leading research facility at seven years old is a hell of an accomplishment.

10♣️ - When was the last time your muse took a vacation or trip?

You’re so funny.

J♣️ - Who does your muse trust the most?

Ding dong it’s Hitori again.

Q♣️ - Do other people consider your muse charming?

Some may consider his awkwardness to be endearing.

K♣️ - How important is integrity to your muse?

Extremely. Dishonesty is one thing that really bothers him.

A♦️ - What is the most important message your muse has ever received?

The one from the Hawk Party telling him they wanted to pull him out of school to work for them.

2♦️ - How important is money to your muse?

It’s nice to have, certainly, and he appreciates being able to splurge on himself once in a while. But he really just wants to be able to pay his bills.

3♦️ - How does your muse handle indecision?

He tries to think things through as logically and objectively as he can. He’ll even make a pro/con list if he has to.

4♦️ - Is your muse more of the patient or instant gratification type?

It depends. He’s usually pretty patient, unless it’s something like learning a new skill. Since he’s used to being so smart, he can get frustrated pretty quickly if he doesn’t pick something up quick enough. Intellectually he knows that he just needs to practice and that he can’t be a savant at everything he touches, but emotionally the feeling of being inept at something really upsets him.

5♦️ - How often does your muse change plans?

He prefers to put extra effort into a plan and then feel confident sticking with it than run on instinct and change shit up on the fly. But he’s not too much of a fool to know when changing plans is the right course of action.

6♦️ - Is your muse responsible with their money?

Yes, he takes it very seriously. He keeps careful track of all his bills and always sets a certain percentage into savings.

7♦️ - When was your muse the most down on their luck?

He considers his depression to be his low point obviously, but he would say that being born to real shitty parents and then almost getting blown up was a pretty unlucky way to start his life.

8♦️ - Has your muse ever received money or gifts from a mysterious benefactor?

He has found beans on his desk on Legumentine’s. A considerate gesture, or a secret admirer...? Who knows?

9♦️ - How much money does your muse spend on average?

I can’t find enough information to estimate a number for you unfortunately, but as far as luxuries go: he tends to spend little overall with small periods of splurging every so often. Not splurging as in buying a new car, but more like getting a few new shirts, or getting that cute skirt he saw in a window, or taking a trip to the bookstore.

 10♦️ - How financially successful is your muse?

Honestly? He’s not doing too bad. His apartment is small but nice, and as mentioned before he could actually probably afford an even better one if he cared to. And since he doesn’t spend a whole lot, he’s got a respectable amount in savings by now.

J♦️ - Who does your muse do the most business with?

Store-wise? Aside from the grocer, probably the bookstore.

Q♦️ - Has your muse ever been gossiped about or participated in gossip?

Shuu hates gossiping, but I’m sure he’s been the subject of it. Especially when he worked with Tohri, like are you kidding me? Every day with that nonsense. And who knows what kind of rumors the students come up with.

K♦️ - If your muse were to start their own business, what would it be?

Either a pharmacy or, considering he doesn’t bake nearly as often as he wishes he did, a cake shop.

2♠️ - How often does your muse wish to be left alone?

He is an introvert, so he’ll get tired and stressed if he goes too long without privacy. He’d like to get a good few hours to himself every day if possible. It still counts if he’s working.

3♠️ - Does your muse ever let anyone see them cry?

Shuu hates to cry in front of people, and even if it’s someone he trusts he’ll still feel bad about it. But he’s a sensitive baby, so...

5♠️ - Has your muse ever had to change their lifestyle in a major way?

The biggest change was when he lost his job at the Hawks. Once he was ready to start looking for a new job, he decided that it needed to be something he wouldn’t obsess over. He knew he needed to start having a life outside of work. That’s been one hell of a process.

6♠️ - Does your muse believe in fate/destiny?

He doesn’t really care either way. He’s just trying to get through the day.

7♠️ - What’s a hard truth that your muse has to learn/has learned?

Don’t assume that there’s alway going to be a “later”. Life hits you hard and fast.

8♠️ - What does your muse work the hardest for?

Figuring out how to be happy is his biggest challenge right now. Not that he’s always in the piss bucket and never has a day of levity in his life, but he’s still in the process of getting himself together, mentally.

9♠️ - Has your muse ever felt forced to change?

His parents instilled a lot of things in him. He might say it didn’t have an effect on him, but those are some of the most formative years of your life. His mother in particular definitely said and did a lot of things that shoved him into a mold (that he never would have fit in) of what he was supposed to be.

10♠️ - How does your muse cope with grief?

He doesn’t, not really. He bottles it up and hides it away when he’s around anyone else, and then has a breakdown when he’s alone. But he won’t want to be alone - chances are he’ll throw himself into work.

J♠️ - Who would your muse most likely end up in jail with?

He’d probably end up hanging out with the wrong crowd, feel pressured to stand by and get caught up as an accomplice.

Q♠️ - Does your muse manipulate others easily or are they easily manipulated?

If you know enough about him to know his buttons, it’s almost scary how pliable he is.

K♠️ - What is one thing your muse considers a grave injustice?

That more people don’t realize how biology is.

[seokjins]

what is your magic (witch) au? i'm very curious please tell me more..

anon THANK U FOR ASKING omg i’m so excited abt this au!! these are just character descriptions bc i don’t have a plot yet (or a plan to actually write this out lol), but these are all the hc’s i have

namjoon + yoongi

they’re both witches! their official designations are music makers bc they’re able to conjure stronger spells using …. music …. lol. i haven’t exactly figured out how that piece relates to their magic in particular (do they compose pieces that become the spells themselves? do they get a power boost via certain songs?), but i still really like the idea that they’re able to draw magic from music u know ?? just bc namjoon + yoongi both produce a lot of stuff for bangtan irl ;;______;; makes me real emo it does

they are incredibly powerful, the kind that goes down in myths and stories and fairytales when they set their minds to it. they can raze entire kingdoms and set the the forests on fire and kill a thousand soldiers w/o even lifting a finger, or so the legends say ,, but they mostly bitch at each other and ride their stupid enchanted broomsticks everywhere bc they’re too lazy to enchant a chair and it’s funny to see monarchs shit themselves when they pass overhead their castles lol

jungkook

is a shapeshifter with magical inclinations! this means he’s not gonna be as powerful as sugamon, but he doesn’t have to make his bed or cut up the carrots or clean his house or wait for water to boil and can heal minor wounds :0

i was gonna be like “he can transform into a bunny!!” lol but nah he’s a wolf you gotta go big or go home right??

he’s got enhanced senses like sight, for example. sight, smell, hearing are probably the most noticeable for him, but he’s also unusually agile, so he can jump walls and climb houses and travel via roof hopping if he so wishes. transformations are whenever and wherever he feels the need !!! sugamon’s been training him in some potion making, since that’s less of a magical art and more of a physical one, and he’s been doing well !!

jimin

he’s a mermaid ,,, IM SORRY HOLD ON HEAR ME OUT OK IT’S NOT AS BAD AS IT SEEMS ,, he lives in the river and chills by the lake but can also handle saltwater for a couple weeks before he needs to go back to his regular abode,,, he’s able to walk on land, but he hates having legs since swimming is much faster tbh

he’s got the prettiest chrome tail and creepy ass gills on the side of his neck and his teeth are all pointed (think ..vampire Extreme) and he’s got that second eyelid film that scares people who meet him for the first time ??? + his skin always has a slightly blue tinge underneath it. he’s also got sharp ass scales down the backside of his arm that will draw blood upon contact, his elbows have smth that protrudes out of it (think the top crest of an angelfish, but weapon-grade), and he’s able to produce a note high enough & loud enough to shatter eardrums within a 0.25mile radius :^))

he’s small in human form, so lots of people try to take advantage of him bc he has a sweet smile, but he’ll still have it on when he kills u ,,, so. ur gamble my friends

taehyung

ah yes our resident pixie :^)) he’s got huge ass dragonfly wings and hair that changes color with the season and one of the brightest smiles in the entire world !!!!! literally part of his defense mechanism is that he’s able to blind people w just a Look ok his eyes turn gold and his skin starts glowing and before u know it,, you’ve literally been murdered by sheer beauty

he flies around everywhere ???? (walking is for mortals lmao) and is a nature based sprite, which means he spends a lot of time tending to gardens and wildlife, helping flowers and trees and plants grow !! he’s honestly not that scary, but when provoked - his internal temperature rises to above 500K, which means he’s literally walking on smoldering ground like the devil himself and one touch will send anyone up in flames !!!!! aka the reason he Glows lol

seokjin

ONE OF MY FAVES omg HE IS 100%  A FAIRY but not the one from disney stories Oh No he is beautiful as fuck w his huge ass butterfly wings (he flies around with taehyung) and they’re pink and silver and elegant as hell?????? he sings a lot and is generally very dorky, incredibly kind, likes to cook, has residual magic but isn’t able to wield it in a free format like sugamon & jungkook - it’s all an extension of his magical self

he’s  a fairy, but a fairy that’s a pseudo siren..he lures bandits/thieves/criminals/etc through the forest w his pretty voice & pretty face & when they’ve got nowhere to go, he turns on them & kills them dead lol. his eyes go completely red and his face turns dark and his nails become claws and his teeth sharpen out at the ends (not so much as jimin’s mermaid ones tho) and the last thing they do is shit their pants and scream???? literally (╥_╥) he’s terrifying as hell never get on his bad side y’all don’t want him to come after you

hoseok

last but not least: hobi is a sylph !!!! he works the summer winds most of the time, but he also dabbles w the other seasons too, really depends. he hasn’t got wings like taehyung or seokjin, but he can fly, so it’s a common occurrence for the three of them to go out together,,

he’s very sunshine/sweet/kind, but he’s prone to mood swings as the weather changes. he’s also incredibly, uncomfortably straightforward, not in the way that yoongi is, but the kind where he calls you out for something big with a smile on his face??and u can’t exactly tell howhe feels about you??the free wind spirit is really evident in his personality lol.

he also gets really scary when storms are around the corner bc his hair changes depending on weather, so it usually goes silver or black and his lips turn blue and the veins start pooling under his skin and he looks incredibly dead but his eyes are an unsettling shade of milky white and he’s very spaced out??? then before u know it he’s gone and ur running for your lives lol

[ifishouldvanish]

Nighthawks, Morningbirds

Chapter 3

Summary: Some unresolved feelings result in a bit of a meltdown. Rating: M

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Read on AO3]

Lacey French sleeping in one of his shirts is one of the most welcome sights Gold has ever woken up to. Her makeup from last night is smudged all over her cheeks and his pillowcase, her hair looks like a nest, and having her spend the night in his bed probably wasn't the best thing for this budding whatever it is between them— but it just feels so good to wake up and not be alone. To wake up next to someone who hasn't been sleeping with another man for five years. Next to someone who, for some ungodly reason, seems to actually like him and desire him.

Gods, he is going to fuck this up. How can he not fuck this up?

He scoffs. How presumptuous of him: Assuming there is anything to fuck up.

Lacey stirs and a little groan escapes her. Her eyes quickly flutter open and she already looks much more wakeful than he feels. “Hey.”

He smiles at her, convinced that if he were to reach out and touch her, she might disappear. “...Hey.”

“You're awake now.” She says, stretching her arms out and squirming up to him.

His smile widens. “I'm sorry. Did I keep you waiting?” He sneaks a glance at the alarm clock because seriously— did he? But it’s hardly a quarter past seven.

“Well, as a matter of fact…” She mumbles, leaning over and nuzzling his neck. “Yeah. You kinda did.”

“How… Terribly rude of me.” He hums. Lacey's hair falls onto his chest and in his face, and it still smells like berries and honeysuckle. She buries her face in his neck and starts kissing, or licking, or— biting?

“Ah!” He winces because that was definitely a bite, and the sharp sensation already has his cock beginning to stir. Files that particular bit of information away to consider later.

“Yeah,” She perks up with a giggle and nibbles her lip. “You could uh, make it up to me though?”

He gives her a lopsided grin. “And which of your wildest erotic fantasies might I be able to fulfill for you this morning?”

She studies him for a moment and fights back a smile. “You ever watch Highlander?”

He groans and rolls his eyes.

“I'm kidding! I'm kidding!” She laughs, swatting a hand at his shoulder and straddling over his lap. “...I just want your cock inside me again.”

For a second, he just blinks at her. Lacey is nothing, if not forward.

“...Oh.” He chuckles a little uncomfortably. Gold won't deny that he finds the prospect of being inside her again to be a very appealing one, but her enthusiasm this morning is a jarring contrast from last night and he's a bit skeptical. Nonetheless, she seems nothing short of eager now and he’s come to find that her moods are subject to turning on a dime. “Well,” he says, “I believe that could be arranged.”

“I thought so.” She shrugs, already beginning to grind her hips into him, working him up. “I was gonna wake you up with some head, but I figured you'd probably freak out on me again.”

He recalls his reaction in the car the last night and huffs out a laugh. “How considerate of you.”

“Mhmm.” She nods, stripping out of his shirt. She slides it off of her shoulders and carelessly tosses it on the floor. “I can be very considerate when I want to be.”

He lets out a groan and closes his eyes as she continues rubbing against him through his pajamas. God, it feels so good to be wanted. He reaches over to open the top drawer of the nightstand and fumbles inside for a condom.

His heart stops when he remembers he has none. Why would he? He hasn't gotten properly laid in six years.

He clears his throat. “Lacey.”

“...Yeah?”

“I don't… I don't have any protection.” He mumbles quickly in embarrassment.

She stops rolling her hips and frowns for a moment. “That's… okay? I mean— I'm like, clean, you know?”

“Lacey.”

“You can just pull out.” She shrugs. “I trust you.”

He rubs a hand over his face and sighs. “I'm glad you do, but I don't.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I'm sorry.”

“No, it’s cool.” She says, belied by her slouching shoulders.

“...Raincheck?” He offers weakly.

Lacey smiles and leans down over him.  “I didn't think Mr Gold did rainchecks.” She teases. “That's like… requesting an extension— How do I know you're good for it?”

“Ah—” He smirks and holds up a finger. “Because I never back out of a deal.” He taps her nose, delighted when she goes cross-eyed and it scrunches adorably in response.

“Hmm. You do have a point there…” She tilts her head and thinks for a moment. “I guess if I can't get a ride on your cock, I'd be willing to settle for a ride on your face instead?” She suggests, already crawling further up his body. “You do me and I do you?”

Gold cracks a shark-like smile. “...And people say negotiation is a lost art.” He deadpans as she dips down to meet him for a kiss. Being with Lacey is so intoxicating, kissing her so dizzying, that he suddenly thinks he understands why Milah was able to carry out an affair for so long, and have seemingly so little guilt over it. It's a sobering thought that’s quickly replaced by the realization that he must look like some sort of poster child for recently divorced men who have crises and start sleeping with women half their age— if for no other reason than to assure themselves that they've still got it.

The train of thought is interrupted by a buzzing sound nearby. They stare blankly at each other until Gold manages a pointed glance at his phone where it sits idly on the nightstand. Lacey rolls her eyes and climbs off the side of the bed, fishing her own phone out of her purse.

“Ugh. It's my dad.” She scowls, setting the phone on the nightstand to continue its buzzing.

Christ, she is too young for him.

“You should answer it, dearie.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He's becoming a goddamned lecher. Perfect.

Lacey stares at the buzzing phone again and huffs. “I guess.” She groans, snatching it up.

“Hey, dad.”

A rambling, thunderous voice erupts from the speaker and Lacey pulls the phone a few inches from her ear until it stops. Gold closes his eyes and exhales deeply. Of course Moe French would find a way to ruin his morning.

“I’m fine.” She grumbles, rolling her eyes again as she sits up comfortably in bed. “No. I'm… at a friend's. No. No. Yes, a male friend — Christ, dad!” Lacey throws her head back and sighs. “We are so not having this conversation right now! ...Dad? ...Dad. Dad, I’m hanging up! Bye! Love you! Don’t forget to take your meds!”

Her father’s voice continues to ramble from the other end of the line until Lacey hangs up and tosses her phone back on the nightstand.

“Sorry about that.” She shrugs, crawling back on top of him.

Gold just chuckles weakly. “Nothing to apologize for.” Is it possible to mean something, but not feel it?

“Anyway…” Lacey nuzzles his neck again but it’s nowhere near as enjoyable as it was five minutes ago. Fucking Moe French. “We were… negotiating,” she says with a giggle before claiming his mouth for another kiss.

Gold tries to reciprocate— he wants to—  but his mind is stuck replaying that phone call on an infinite loop. And then it hits him.

Shit. Meds. Dr Whale.

In his ambitious mood the other day, he had accepted the 9:30AM appointment on Tuesday that just happened to have opened up. Gods, he's been drinking himself to sleep for months without managing to do anything he regretted in the morning half as much as this.

“Maybe we—” With a sigh, he breaks the kiss and pulls away, not quite meeting her eyes. “Maybe we shouldn't. Actually.”

Lacey fists at the sheets and pulls them up to her chin, covering herself. “Why not?” She asks, not quite looking him in the eyes.

He can think of about a dozen reasons why not.

I’m old enough to be your father.

I’m clingy and you’ll regret having ever slept with me at all.

I still really like you and don’t want whatever this is to just be about sex.

I don’t think I can handle another person getting bored and inevitably leaving me.

Gold presses his lips into a thin line for a moment and scoffs. “I… well, I—” He sits up and smiles at her, taking her hand in his. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I promised you breakfast, is all.”

She narrows her eyes at him and smiles. “Sounds like a cop-out.”

He isn’t going to argue that.

“C’mon.” He says, patting a hand on her bottom until she takes the cue and climbs off of his lap. He swings his feet out of bed and begins rolling the stiffness out of his ankle. “What do you like? Pancakes? Omelette? Toast?”

“Hmm… Surprise me?”

He looks over his shoulder at her, where she’s buttoning his shirt back up. “Something tells me it takes a lot to surprise you.” He teases. “But I’ll see what I can do.”

 *****

 Lacey’s actually feeling pretty optimistic about today. She woke up at 5:30 and couldn’t fall back asleep— but it gave her a chance to think about their encounter with Arthur last night, and she thinks she’s figured out why he got under her skin so quickly. She couldn’t care less when a guy like Keith hounds her because she knows he ain’t worth shit. But Arthur was a complete stranger. Wear did it mean if someone who had never even seen her before could say those kinds of things to her? Does it all just follow her around like a bad smell?

It doesn’t matter. Given another chance, she’d still knock that asshole’s teeth out, because he ain’t worth shit either. Arthur might have ruined her dinner with Gold, but she'll be God damned if she'll let him ruin her morning with him. Admittedly, she’s a little disappointed that she wasn't able to properly thank him for getting her off last night— but she's sure he'll mention it later.

The breakfast Gold is putting together definitely looks and smells better than Lacey's usual bowl of Cocoa Pops. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen anyone appear so in their element in the kitchen before. But when she tried hovering over his shoulder to watch, he kept insisting, “no peeking.” All she knows is that whatever he’s making, it involves a measure of bourbon, so it has to be good.

When Lacey’s eyes aren’t fixed on Gold’s rear, they’re focused on his china cabinet. It really is a beautiful piece— when you pretend the glass isn't missing and the muntins aren't snapped and splintered. But moreover, there's the cutest little teacup sitting all by itself atop one of the shelves, and Lacey feels drawn to it. She wouldn't mind adding something like it to her own collection. It’s so dainty and delicate that it just might look perfectly rebellious sitting beside her assortment of irreverent novelty coffee mugs.

“Coffee's ready.” Gold calls out softly. “Black?”

“Mhmm.” She nods, watching as he reaches into one of the cabinets for a cup. “Hey— can I use that cup?”

He looks to where she's pointing and knits his brows together. “I… I guess.” He scowls. “If you like.”

“Cool.” She shrugs and carries it over to him so he can pour her a cupful.

“Just— be careful.” He warns. “It’s chipped.”

Lacey rolls her eyes. “I'm not that clumsy, Gold. Just gotta drink from the good side, see?” She says, tilting the cup demonstratively. Gold just smiles and returns to the stove.

Fifteen minutes and half an orgasmic plate of bourbon peach French toast later, Lacey is in fact very clumsy.

Gold keeps staring at the clock and anxiously tapping a finger on the side of his coffee mug, and quite frankly it’s terribly distracting— ’It’ being the wonderful view she has of his sharp, angular profile and the hypnotic pulsing of the tendons in his hand. She’s debating whether or not to ask him what the fuck he keeps staring at the clock for (because honestly? How rude) when she takes a fateful sip from the wrong side of the cup.

Hot coffee dribbles down her chest and onto her lap and she yelps, nearly jumping out of her seat. “Fuck!”

Gold’s eyes snap away from the clock and he lunges across the table, rushing to take the cup from her hands and almost knocking his own over in the process. “What-what-what— Are you alright?!”

She looks down at the splash of coffee on her shirt— his shirt, his perfectly white shirt— and groans. “God dammit...”

He reaches a trembling hand out to her but withdraws it quickly before making contact. “You— you're alright? You're not burned?”

“It's fine. It’s not that hot.” She says, feeling herself flush with embarrassment. “Just… whoops?”

Gold sighs and shakes his head before finally scrambling for the roll of paper towels. “I-I'm sorry—”

“It's fine—”

“Let me get that—”

“It’s fine.”

“I am so sorry.” He hastily tears a sheet off and moves to dab her chest with it but stops himself, holding the towel up in the air uselessly. “I-I don't even know why I still have that stupid thing—” He stammers.

“It's fine!”

“No, it’s my fault.” He insists, and he sounds so angry with himself. He honestly believes it. “I should have thrown that bloody thing out with the rest—”

“Gold.” She grunts, ripping the paper towel out of his hand and wiping the coffee off of her thighs. “It’s fine.”

His eyes dart frantically over her face while his mouth hangs open. He doesn't know what to do with himself.

“...I—I'm sorry?” He stammers again.

“Stop apologizing!” She snaps. “I'm over it, alright?! ...You can stop coddling me!”

Gold takes a half step back and stares blankly at her, his arms drawn tightly against his chest.

Lacey feels her face grow hot and her pulse starting to throb in her temples. Nothing says, “I'm over what happened last night,” like screaming, “I’m over it, alright!?” at somebody who's just trying to clean spilled coffee. So much for her 5:30AM revelation.

She shakes her head, closing her eyes and letting out a deep sigh. “I'm sorry, it just— I’m the one who ruined your shirt, okay?”

He knits his brows together in confusion. “...I never wear white.” He says matter-of-factly.

Lacey blinks at him for a moment. “What?”

He suddenly seems to notice the way she’s staring and his cheeks grow pink. “...What?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “Just forget it, alright? I made the mess. I’ll clean it up myself. I can do that much.”

“You… you don’t have to.” He says meekly.

“Well, I want to, okay?” She sighs, swiping the roll of paper towels from the table and getting on her knees. “I’m not completely fucking helpless, you know.” She mutters under her breath as she soaks the puddle up off of the floor. Her lip is trembling though and she feels the urge to cry and just how fucking embarrassing is that?

Gold clears his throat. “No,” he says. “Of course not.”

In her effort to not bust into tears over spilled coffee, she can only manage a litany of snivels and huffs.

“You—” He cuts himself off and kneels down beside her and she wishes he wouldn’t because she knows it’ll be a bitch for him to get back up because of his ankle. “I don’t think you’re helpless.” He says. “You’re strong. Much stronger than I am.”

“Don't.” Lacey shakes her head. “You were right.” She mumbles, wiping her nose with her forearm.

“Right about what?”

“That I’m full of shit!” She says, tossing the saturated paper towel across the floor. “I said I didn’t give a damn what people think, but I do!”

He doesn’t offer any assurances to her right away, but she can tell he’s trying by the way his lips are pressed together.

“Of course you do.” He says and she rolls her eyes. “B-But... the thing— it— well—” He keeps stammering and she feels so bad because he’s trying so hard and she knows she’s hardly worth the effort. “I think it’s good to give a damn.” He finally says. “You have a right to be angry. And hurt.”

Lacey scoffs and shakes her head. “If that was true, they wouldn’t have punished you for it with anger management classes.” She says bitterly.

Gold huffs out a laugh.

“No.” She says. “It’s bullshit. People like us get fucked over by assholes our whole lives but when we finally say fuck that, fuck you and stand up for ourselves, we’re the ones who get shit for it and it’s not fucking fair!”

“I know, I know.” He hushes. He takes her hand and rubs his gently thumb over her skin. The gesture itself doesn't do as much to comfort her as the realization that he's trying . That for once someone isn't just calling her a psycho bitch and running away.

“H-He talked about me like I wasn’t even there.” She snivels, wiping her running nose on her arm again. “I hate— I hate that, okay?! I fucking hate that!”

“I know,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around her. “I do too.”

Lacey's not sure whether she's talking about Arthur or Gerard at this point, or if they've just merged into one entity best defined as people who've hurt me. She buries her face in his chest and cries, and he just rubs a hand over her back.

“Shh… it's alright.”

It’s several minutes until Lacey calms down. She slowly untangles herself from his arms and wipes her cheeks.

“Better?” He asks, tucking a lock of hair away from her tear-dampened face.

She nods and takes a deep breath, staring back and the now dried puddle of coffee on the tile. “I just— I want to clean it up by myself.”

“Okay.” He gives her a weak smile. “I understand.”

Gold groans as he pulls himself off the floor, leaning heavily on the table to spare his ankle the stress. He grabs the cup again and carries it over to the sink to dump it. Lacey tears her eyes away from the floor at the sound of the coffee sloshing into the sink and babbling down the drain. He starts walking the cup over to the garbage can and she sighs.

“No.” She insists and he stops to look over his shoulder at her. “Don’t.”

“What?”

“I like it.”

“...What?” He asks again, and he's so adorably confused at this point that Lacey almost forgets to answer him.

“I like the cup.” She mumbles, climbing to her feet and taking it from his hands.

“You could have hurt yourself.”

Lacey's never seen somebody so distraught over the possibility of hurting her before, let alone so inadvertently. Spilled coffee. She spilled a half a cup of coffee and he went into panic mode. If she didn’t know any better, she might find it comical. But she does know better, and it’s actually just really sad.

“Look.” She says softly. “This cup has clearly been through some shit,” she says, smiling weakly and holding it up for him to see. “But um, you can still drink out of it. ...You know?”

He looks down at it and opens his mouth as if to protest.

“I mean... we’re kinda chipped too.” She adds shyly, her eyes focused on the cup because she can't quite bring herself to meet his eyes. “People look at us the wrong way, or say the wrong thing, and they get a lap full of coffee.”

The uncertainty finally leaves his eyes and the corner of his mouth twitches upwards into a little smile. “...Or a foot up the arse?”

Lacey bites down on her lip, trying to fight the little giggle that wants to bubble out of her. “Exactly.” She traces her finger along the notch in the cup’s rim for a moment. “I’m just not ready to be thrown out yet. Are you?”

“No. I-I suppose not.” He places his hand over hers, his thumb brushing over her own where she's picking at the chip. “We'll just… have to rinse it out and try again, hm?”

Lacey nods. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for.”

 *****

 Gold insisted Lacey relax and make herself at home while he cleans the kitchen, so she hopped in the shower to wash the smell of coffee off of her body before changing into her clothes from the night before. She may have also sloshed around some mouthwash she found under the sink while she was looking for condoms to no avail.

She might still have some ruminating to do as far as that prick Arthur is concerned, but she's at least decided on one thing: she wants to sleep with Gold again— sooner rather than later, and she doesn't give a damn about whether or not she “should”. It’s different with him, she’s decided, because she actually likes him. It’s as if the two of them speak a language together that no one else understands. When she gets upset and snaps, he has this look in his eyes like he knows exactly what she’s feeling. It’s not about thanking him or wanting to return a favor. He just makes her smile and feel good and she wants to make him feel good too. The other night in her bed he was so content and at ease and she did that. Who says she couldn't do it again?

Having given up on raiding the bathroom cabinets, Lacey grabs her purse and plops onto Gold’s bed. She rummages through all of the compartments, then dumps all of its contents out in frustration. Her phone, her keys, some cash, several crumpled up gum wrappers and receipts from the liquor store, her favorite tube of lipstick, a tampon.

“Seriously?” She huffs, shoving her hand inside the bag again and groping at the now empty lining. Finally, something pointy pokes at her skin. Holding her breath, she slowly pulls it out, and she's pretty sure she can hear a choir of angels singing. “Oh, thank God!” She says with a relieved sigh, tucking the little foil packet into her bra.

Gold's still finishing up when Lacey makes it back downstairs. She should sneak up behind him and nibble his neck, but for some reason she can't bring herself to. For some reason, she’s nervous about it. Instead she just watches him with a little smile on her face and a warmth in her chest until the last plate makes it into the dishwasher and he spins around. He smiles at her, but then he looks at the fucking clock again and Lacey feels her heart drop into her stomach. Has she worn her welcome? Does he want her to leave? Can she blame him?

“I forgot, I ah, I have an appointment.” He says, wringing his hands together. “I’ll… I’ll get ready and I can drop you home on the way?”

“Oh.” On one hand, it explains his sudden infatuation with the clock. On the other, it looks like she won’t be jumping his bones after all. “Yeah. Sounds good.” She says, and he gives her a tight-lipped smile before disappearing up the stairs.

Lacey finds herself pacing around the living room. Every surface in Gold’s home is crowded merrily with antique lamps, tiny metal ornaments painted with colorful patterns, and old books bound in worn leather. She cautiously picks up one of the pieces— an enameled candlestick holder— and marvels at all of its tiny details. There’s soaring dragons and blooming lotuses in pinks and reds and greens sprawling across a field of blue.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Lacey hurries to put it back down, almost knocking over a photo frame in the process. Gold is standing in the doorway— looking criminally handsome in one of his suits— and if the way he’s leaning against the frame is any indication, he’s been standing there for some time.

“I’m sorry, it’s expensive, isn't it? I shouldn't have—”

“No, no. You’re fine.” Gold hushes, walking over and picking it back up.

Lacey slowly turns to look at it with him.  “It’s uh, really pretty.”

“Cloisonné.” He says. “Technique dates back to the ancient Middle East. They solder this thin wire into intricate patterns—” He indicates the gold strokes that make up the design with his finger, “then fill each of the spaces— the cloisons — with enamel and fire it. This particular piece is from nineteenth century China. Qing Dynasty.”

Lacey stares at it for a moment and wets her lips. Smiles. “Is that what the guy who sold it to you said?”

Gold huffs out a laugh. “You don’t trust my appraisal skills?”

She crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes at him. “Well I mean, c’mon— how do you know? ”

His lips slowly curl into a smug grin. “One simply must know what to look for, Miss French.” He says. He flips it over and taps a finger on the bottom of the base. “This here… is an imperial seal. Went out of favor at the turn of the century. Any pieces made for export after that time will say China or Made in China instead, so that dates it before 1897.”

Lacey blinks owlishly, trying not to look too impressed yet. “Okay.” She says, putting her hands on her hips. “I'm listening.”

“Now—” He winks and flips it over again to point at the thin wires that make up the shapes in the design. “If you look closely, the diameter of the wires is consistent. It doesn't get thicker in some places and thinner in others. Wrought wiring like this wasn’t used until the late Qing dynasty which, of course, was the last dynastic period before China became a republic in 1911.”

Lacey always imagined the only reason people collected antiques was because they were expensive and therefore a good way to show off how much money you have to other people who also have lots of money. But Gold is smiling brightly, dimples and all, and speaking with such a genuine passion for the history and the craftsmanship of the thing that she has no choice but to dispel the idea entirely.

In short, he's a total fucking nerd.

“You might also notice that these wires haven't been soldered at all.” He continues, holding it up to her closely. “Soldered wiring is usually riddled with imperfections— pits and dark spots, fractures from the baking process, that sort of thing. But during the eighteenth century, they started using an adhesive to lay the wire, which produced a much cleaner result like we see here.”

He’s speaking so confidently and as cute as he is when he’s a flustered, babbling mess, confidence is such a good color on him. “I have to admit—” Lacey says, bobbing her head thoughtfully, “I'm kinda getting weirdly turned on by this.”

“Ah, but there's more!” He beams. “Look at these areas of pink.”

Lacey squints at the lotus petals and frowns, not sure what she's supposed to be looking for. “Yeah, that's um… definitely pink.”

“Precisely.” He says, holding a finger up in the air. “Prior to the Qing dynasty, they didn't use pink enamel. They would use white and red within the same cloison to create the illusion of pink. Furthermore, the cloisons that form the dragons’ scales have a smooth gradation of color— another technique that wasn’t introduced until the 18th century. However, the scrolling design motif— the lotus in particular— is a trademark of the Ming dynasty.” He pauses and wets his lips. “You see, during the nineteenth century, the antique market was growing and there was a demand for pieces that replicated the Ming style. Paired with techniques developed in late Qing dynasty, a Ming design motif dates the piece quite firmly in the nineteenth century.”

“...Huh.”

“So.” He coughs and looks away shyly, a small blush rising to his cheeks. “That’s how I know.”

Lacey blinks at the piece owlishly. “...Cool.” She says with a chuckle, meeting his eyes again. “I mean, I guess it's kinda like how I can hear a few seconds of a Van Halen song and know what album it is judging by the way the guitars sound.”

He pouts thoughtfully for a moment, then lets out a little scoff. “...Aye. I suppose it is.”

“Or how you can tell a Def Leppard song from a Poison or a Whitesnake one?”

He sets the candlestick back down without taking his eyes off of her. “You'll have to enlighten me sometime.” He says, his head bobbling ever so slightly as he wiggles his brows.

“I will.” She grins, taking a step closer to him. Lacey can't think of anything she'd enjoy more than subjecting Mr Gold to her beloved, though in all honesty pretty shameful, record collection. They could order pizza, or takeout, or just whatever (she's not picky), and talk about things that aren't depressing— like her very strong opinions on what the top five guitar solos to come out of 1987 are. After all, she doesn't know the first thing about antiques, but she enjoyed listening to him talk about the history of Chinese cloisonné techniques anyway.

“You know, I uh, have some pieces from China too.” She says. “...Late twentieth, early twenty-first century?”

Gold raises a brow at her and the corner of his mouth twitches upwards into a little smirk.

“Really cool technique where they uh, make these molds and fill them with plastic?” She explains, trying not to laugh. “Allows them to produce hundreds of thousands of units that are completely identical.”

He cracks a toothy grin and inches closer to her. “Sounds incredible.”

“Yeah, it kinda is.” She snorts, wholly aware of the light, bubbling feeling in her chest. “Not gonna lie.”

His focus darts back and forth between her eyes and lips, and they lean into each other almost imperceptibly. Lacey wets her lips and lids her eyes, wanting so badly to close the gap between them.

She feels his breath land on her cheek and she goes all in, because it’s all the invitation she needs. She catches his eyes going wide as she pulls him close, but he doesn’t hesitate to respond in kind with a little moan when she traces her tongue along his lips. His hair is still a little damp when she runs her fingers through it and he smells so amazing and tastes so good and Lacey’s certain she wouldn’t mind standing there and kissing him all day long. But when they finally part to catch their breath, there’s a strange, disorienting giddiness that keeps her from doing anything more than just staring and smiling at him— and judging by the lopsided grin on his face, she’s pretty sure he feels it too.

She shifts on her feet, her eyes fixed on the knot of his tie. “You uh, sure about that appointment?” She asks. “Maybe you should call in sick.”

“That’d be a shite excuse for missing a doctor’s appointment, Miss French.”

Lacey folds her arms over her chest. “The only shite excuse I'm hearing is the one for that thing you call a sense of humor.”

He rolls his eyes, but smiles. “Says the woman who was just flirting with me over the mass production of consumer goods.”

“Well it worked, didn't it?” She laughs. “I think that says more about you than it does about me.”

“Fair enough.” He gives her a peck on the forehead, looking far too pleased with himself when she huffs and scrunches her face in response. “Now put those ridiculous things back on your feet,” he says, nodding toward her heels by the front door. “You're going to make me late.”

“Fine.” She giggles, traipsing across the floor for her shoes. “I’d hate for all of your anxiety this morning to be for nothing.”

“I wouldn’t say nothing.” He shrugs. “If there’s anything that makes me more nervous than a doctor’s appointment, it’s the company of a charming woman.”

Lacey snorts. “I think you’re full of shit.” She says.

But what she really thinks— or dares to hope— is that he isn’t.