Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Are you ready?”

The car was parked on the lower side of the private road in the grand estate that belonged to the Ackerman family, under the shadow of the tall trees offering mock-safety from the deceptively bright sun. The driver waited in silence for the owner to give a sign. 

You fought to suppress the delirious urge to say no. There was not much that could have prepared you for this, no amount of encouragement and your fiancé telling you that you were the perfect marvel anyone would be lucky to know and what the ones inside thought had no bearing on his feelings regardless of their standing made a change beyond the surface. Bold claims uttered with utmost confidence. You would like to feel reassured by them, your worries just were not the kind that could not be lifted by words alone. You turned to your fiancé, smiling with all the charm in the world and nodded with a gentle curve of your lips that you hoped looked genuine. 

“Let’s go.”

The chauffeur opened the door for you and you took one little step out. 
Into a new life to which you did not belong.

-

There were people already waiting for you to come out. There goes my final moments of peace, you thought as a man very distinctly dressed as a butler and two maids welcomed you two soon after exiting the car, not allowing you and the young master of the house few more encouraging words before the final shoe dropped and you had to meet the family. Feeling uncommonly uncoordinated, you were nearly light-headed stepping towards the manor slowly growing in size, becoming almost unbearably big every second. Was this really going to be your new home? It sounded ridiculous even to ponder. There was nothing home-like about this place to you, regardless of its beauty. You had no illusions about how you were going to be seen and how rough this was all going to be. Your thoughts strayed more, wondering if your fiancé was going to be about to be rejected from his family for this little stunt and was going to be sent packing - which of course would end your little affair within five days of first promising eternal faithfulness and another one where the confession I don’t think I can do this would come. You already had decided you would not be bitter if that happened. You knew better than to fixate on something so expected, most people would never give up on this kind of life for any kind of emotion. This was a risk you took, accepting his proposal. Coming from a complicated background, you could sympathize, too. It was hard to reject such safety for someone else. 

Not that you thought your fiancé even understood what it meant to be unsafe. Maybe that was why he was so reckless with his decisions.

“I hope the journey has been pleasant,” the butler was speaking kindly yet formally with you two. The tall, blonde man had rough features but radiated friendliness. At least he doesn’t seem stuck up, you thought. The other two maids seemed indifferent and they did not speak after murmuring you two welcome and appeared to contently leave the rest of the job to the butler. You briefly wondered if they were instructed to behave this way, it didn’t feel exactly warm, but then again you had no similar experience to compare it with. It was irritating to be so far removed from this world that you would not be able to discern some of the subtle digs. You weren’t used to not having the situation under control and you already did not like this feeling, being completely out of your comfort zone.

The entrance to the manor was intimidating. The giant arch welcomed your little group after passing the ionic columns, decorated tastefully with ivies and various shrubbery in between. The cobble path was so well-kept it was possible to walk in heels without ever risking balance. The shiny surface of bronze statues placed on each side of the ornate gate reflected your movements under the shade. A stronger smell of amber and cherry wood seeped from inside the building, and you realized you have been smelling its undertones ever since you stepped into the estate. 

It was hard to re-conceptualize your boyfriend as someone who grew up in this sort of place. You had no idea who he was when you met him and started to date casually. He never seemed to exude the attitude of a man so utterly privileged and born to a sheltered and cushy life like this. Even though you had a lot of time to internalize after he had come clean after a few months, it seemed like you could not fully reconcile what you knew about him with what you were seeing. You felt like you were plunged into an alternate universe and your fiancé was alongside with you, morphed into a complete stranger you weren’t sure you could rely on. Knowing that he was part of the renowned Ackerman family was much different than seeing it with your own eyes. 

“Your mother is waiting for you in the music room,” the butler said as you walked into to the hall and fought the urge to look around like you were in a museum. You may as well have been. The wide space was filled with priceless artifacts and works of art all of which selected to match perfectly together, connected with mahogany and gold tones that dominated the entire foyer. Before you could worry about feeling lost, your fiancé nodded to the butler and grabbed your hand, making a sharp turn to the right, almost seeming like he was himself surprised by the change of direction. You felt amused by the notion of meeting in a music room, whatever that was, but knowing only the mother was waiting made you relax, despite assuming it was not great news. Were the brother and the uncle not even going to deign to meet you before they rejected you? It was perhaps all the better, it would save you the headache. Yet you still couldn’t help wanting to exceed the expectations, wanting to prove people wrong, in one way or another. Wanting to refrain from sabotaging yourself just to cling to your momentary comfort as the doubts that never really left you churned in your stomach. It just had been such smooth-sailing with your boyfriend, there hadn’t even been a point of turbulence you could take a step back before, so now it all hit you with the anxiety of the moment. Gerard had been the perfect boyfriend and even with the paranoia of someone who had many bad dealings in life facing something that appeared too good to be true, you could see nothing that signified you needed to get away from it all. You met in a popular bar near the campus you frequented one night and he asked if he could join you. After a night of easy talk he walked you to your apartment nearby campus and the rest was history. He was kind and personable, rather direct with his attentions but without over-confidence. With a slight, endearing bashfulness instead of the arrogance a rich heir would have, you didn’t even suspect anything amiss about his background until he opened up. That was when you found out that he really went to great lengths to hide his identity to have a normal student life in the campus. You weren’t quite sure how you felt about that, though you understood his perspective. Months later, when his graduation was at the door, he proposed, and you had no reason not to say yes. 

Now, after long, in the most unexpected fashion, you were going to have a new home and a new family. Again.
And oh, what a home. 
What a family.

It felt like a regression in a sense, at your most ungrateful moments, to end up in a place where you would likely be just an outsider at best. You had grown too used to being on your own, coccooned in the comfort of freedom you got after a long while of being thrown from one place to another, addicted to living alone in your little studio where nobody ever bothered you. Gerard knew about your past in broad strokes, that you lost your family to an accident early on, and had spent your teenage years moving from place to place. You were not about to dramatize it all and make the situation worse to sabotage yourself, but you made sure to express how there was nothing you disliked more than living in a place where you would be unwanted, on pins and needles among people who disliked you. He retracted the shotgun wedding offer after that, realizing his foolishness. You didn’t need to give anyone extra ammunition to use against you in this situation where it was already inevitable for you to come off like a blatant gold digger. You wanted to start off on good terms and if it got rejected, then you would at least know you did your best to create a good impression. You knew many would kill to be in your place, and this much strife was to be expected. There had to be some things wrong - otherwise it really would be too good to be true. If they accepted you with open arms, you would actually run. Thankfully, you knew that was not going to happen. The brief description Gerard gave of his family had been enough. Apparently, the people you were going to meet were not going to be that much numerous than the number you had to introduced Gerard to. Your fiancé’s family was comprised of one distant older brother and a mother he seemed to love very dearly and an uncle he described as a character. You had a good feeling that you knew what that really meant, but Gerard’s reaction had only been ominous regarding the older brother, which gave you more room to wonder.

The mysterious older brother and the primary heir of the great Ackerman empire, about whom you could find barely any noteworthy information. Rumors, praise, news of success, praise, more rumors. Impersonal, polished PR. Levi Ackerman, around thirty, extremely successful to a degree his infamous father’s accomplishments paled in comparison, incurable workaholic, extraordinarily private, and if the few pictures that managed to find their way to the public eye reflected reality, dizzyingly handsome. The perfect man. Well, on paper. You felt a little perspiration at the sight of him, and found yourself hoping that he only photographed well. Sharp features, beautiful yet masculine, the intensity radiating from him was magnetic. Jet-black, shiny hair with a military style undercut. A body so well-built you could tell even from black and white photos of him in a suit. Mouth consistently curved downwards in displeasure, when not in perfect stoicism. Predator’s eyes, narrow and gunmetal.

Not exactly the brother in law you would order. Gerard was quite handsome as well, but the two men looked nothing alike, and there was no doubt their personalities were night and day too.

-

The music room you were led into resembled more of a medium-sized concert hall. A grand piano stood right to the center with extravagant purple-gold chairs and lounges that were scattered around. The high ceiling with windows going right up was embellished with pale ornaments, large chandeliers in their center glittering in the light seeping from space between the dark, gold embroidered heavy curtains pulled to the side to reveal the view, bringing in a pleasant afternoon sun.

You couldn’t imagine growing up in a house that had a room like this. You could imagine leaving this place behind to attend university from dormitory even less. Before you could look around for too long, Gerard dragged you to the opposite side of the room where a smaller cluster of sitting places were laid out with frail looking coffee tables next to them, from where a graceful figure smiled at you. 

“Hello, darling,” a ghostly yet beautiful older woman reached for your fiancé. “What an occasion returns you to us.”

The woman turned to you with a smile no less radiant as she waited for him to introduce you two. Gerard cleared his throat and made the customary introduction, visibly tense. Your mother in law, whose name you found out was Kuchel, despite being past her prime, radiated a glamour and elegance that was hard to come by. Her jet-black, glossy hair only had slight greying despite her age, styled perfectly to frame her thin, heart-shaped face. Once likely plump cheeks hollowed out with sharp cheekbones emphasizing their angularity gave her a haunting appearance. Small mouth curved in a resigned smile was tinted with a natural pink and her blue eyes were striking with thick, dark eyelashes framing them. She somewhat reminded you of the older brother whose photos you had seen online while snooping, with an opposite temperament, while his son exuded authority, she looked like a tragic heroine in the last chapters of a Victorian novel, lamenting a long lost love.

“What a beauty you are,” she said after Gerard’s introduction and pulled you into a hug as well. “I understand my son’s haste to marry now.”

You repressed a grimace in favor of politely thanking her. She definitely wasn’t wasting any time getting to the point, despite how she appeared at first glance. You tried not to feel defensive, repressing the urge to explain that it was Gerard who wanted to marry because he was going to be moving away from the campus as he was graduating very soon, as if you couldn’t trust that information to be relayed to her properly before. Gerard kept saying he didn’t want so much distance come between you two at the height of your relationship, but a silly excuse it sounded as now, when it seemed fair when you were far away from the judgmental eyes of other people, instead drenched in a deep paranoia that this offer had a time limit. You could do nothing except forcing your fake smile back into its place that it kept threatening to leave.

“It was my idea,” Gerard hurried to your defense, just as Kuchel moved onto asking if you had a pleasant journey and you wanted to kick him a little, a bit unnecessarily. Kuchel turned to him like she was a little surprised to be interrupted with such a thing. 

“Of course,” she said, as if she could not even conjure up anything else. “I’m aware of my son’s proclivity towards family life.” She addressed you this time and settled back to her armchair while you and your fiancé sat on the opposing loveseat. “Unfortunate that he doesn’t seem to extend the same tendency towards his existing family, but maybe that will change thanks to you.”

“Mom…” A weak yet frustrated warning came. 

You already felt a little lost. Were you just here to be enveloped in a family drama you weren’t even prepared for? Maybe Gerard’s decision to stay in dorms and leave his identity back had not been very well received. 

“Your uncle will likely be late,” she said airily, pretending not to hear him. Gerard nodded uncomfortably while you sat there with the same plastered smile. You were not looking forward to what sort of character this eccentric uncle was going to turn out to be if the most beloved mother already was this negative.

“But your brother will join us sooner, I hope,” she added with the same light tone. Your fiancé remained silent and you fought the urge to shift in your spot. Once again you got reminded how much of the information you got regarding Levi Ackerman came from online and not from his little brother. Gerard almost never mentioned him, and you didn’t want to ask as if you were particularly interested in the man.

“So how did you two meet? Gerard’s been so tight-lipped about you.”

Likewise, you wanted to say.

“Both of our friend groups hang out in the same bar in the campus. One night, my friends ditched me early and just when I was about to leave, somebody caught me right in time,” you rehashed the story without thinking, finally happy to be in your comfort zone as Gerard flashed a tense smile at you.

“It was love at first sight,” he added.

“How sweet,” Kuchel commented, you would have thought it was sarcasm if it wasn’t spoken so mechanically. “Have you visited your family yet?”

“Mom, I already told you-“

“I guess you could say we did,” you answered Kuchel, like uninterrupted. “I have two best friends who are like my sisters. Unfortunately, my parents are no longer with us.”

“Ah, I believe I was told you have a close foster family.”

“A foster mother, who unfortunately passed away two years ago.”

Kuchel paused for a beat, that one tidbit must have been what Gerard actually forgot to mention. “My condolences.”

You thanked her and let the disturbing silence occupy the space again, only for Gerard's phone to ring, the melody sounding alien in the gilded confines of the room. He fumbled, quickly apologizing, face sour at the caller before turning it off and slipping it back into his pocket. 

“I heard that you plan to take the rest of your classes online after the wedding,” she said this time. “Is that really going to be a good way to study in your field?”

Happy to finally be able to express a genuine emotion, you didn't fight the grimace this time. “I have similar doubts,” you answered dryly. “There really is no perfect choice here.”

“You could always keep a longer engagement period and keep studying on the site,” Kuchel offered as if the thought had never occurred to either of you. “It would be a waste to ruin your education just because you’re impatient.”

It made you think again, taken by the same worry, irritated that you couldn’t say that you weren’t the impatient one. It annoyed you that she brought up things that had plagued you for months, when you had already made your decision and put them aside. No matter how little you wanted to move away when you could thrive on campus, there was a strong feeling in you that if you rejected the persistent offer now, it would not be here one and half years ahead. In the end, you decided that it was not something you wanted to take your chances with just because you wanted your university life to be ideal. 

That would just be stupid.

“We didn’t want to be apart for that long, mom,” Gerard argued again, sounding on edge. “She has more than a year left. I don’t want her to live in that dorm room for that long.” You wanted to correct him again that it was him who lived in a dorm room and you loved your little apartment. 

“A dorm room you also lived in for longer,” Kuchel pointed out. 

“We just want to be married as soon as possible,” he said.

“As soon as possible,” Kuchel repeated. Light, piercing eyes of the woman stared directly at her son now as if trying to read everything he was not being forthcoming with. “You’re both too young to be so hasty.”

“We made up our mind.”

Kuchel hummed, eyes jumping between you two. It made you feel ridiculous just sitting there. “Have you discussed children?”

Not hiding his exasperation anymore Gerard sighed audibly and leaned back. “It’s a little too early for that, mom. Can we change the topic, please?”

“Not if you want to get married as soon as possible,” Kuchel glared. “Things like this should be discussed before it gets serious. Otherwise there can be a lot of problems down the line.”

“We’ll…discuss it. Later. Alone,” he finally spat out with a grimace.

Your nerves felt on fire, phasing out the entire speech. You had been grateful when he never brought up the issue and you sensed that he didn’t want any, but he wasn’t ready to have the talk. You weren’t particular to kids and you didn’t think you would ever change your mind, but putting a name on it felt too real, too serious. You just didn’t want to have that speech. Saying you likely wanted to remain child-free wasn’t going to look fantastic on your resume that already may have been delivered to your in-laws with bloodstains on. Nothing a mother in law would like more than the lack of prospective grandchildren to the heir of a great fortune.
Just great.
You hoped the displeasure didn’t radiate off of you like waves.

“I suppose it’s fine as long as you don’t try for one right away,” Kuchel abruptly said.
“Mom,” Gerard warned loudly this time. You wondered if this was the first time you heard him raise his voice. Kuchel continued as if she didn’t even hear him. “And as long as the traditional marital agreements of our family remain intact.”

Prenup at first meeting, really? You guessed that was the follow-up of needling you about how fast you were marrying at first glance. She wasn’t here to sugarcoat.

“We never discussed it before, but I’m sure we won’t have a problem,” you answered easily. Kuchel fixed her intense gaze on you this time but she did not say anything else. You felt like you were looking at somebody different.

The door opened after a polite knock and the friendly looking butler stepped inside with a service cart filled with tea and desserts. 

“Hopefully I wasn’t too late,” he smiled, round big eyes scanning everyone’s faces in the room and you got the strangest feeling he was right on time.

“No, Erwin, thank you,” Kuchel smiled politely, eyes still carrying some of the coldness.

“I hope you will find them to your taste,” the butler smiled.

“Some things are to everyone’s taste,” Kuchel commented offhandedly and you wondered if you were still talking about the assortments. “Has Ken sent a word yet?”

“Not by himself, Madam,” the butler answered, gracefully placing the teacup on the little table in front of you. “But young master wanted me to let you know his uncle told him he was caught up with associates and was going to be late to the dinner.”

Young master? And who was Gerard supposed to be, then?

“Levi’s home already?”

“Yes, Madam. He will be joining you shortly.”

Kuchel seemed pleased with that information and the smile remained on her face after the butler took his leave with a polite bow. You felt more on edge at the mention of the other two Ackermans. If dealing with the mother was this unnerving, you had no illusions you had your work cut out for you with the uncle and the older brother. You didn’t have the best track record dealing with families, maybe that was one of the reasons why you felt so at home with Gerard initially, who never pressured you to meet them. You felt the gnawing need to escape from this place and bury yourself back into where you felt safe instead of the extensive wealth that would give you everything but peace of mind. You felt your fiancé’s clammy hand still in yours from when he grabbed it as the interrogation started.

He still was the same person.

And all those doubts were just runaway thoughts. You had no option to back down. You helped yourself to the tea and the desserts, posture straight and confident, your face carefully arranged to give away nothing as the only noise in the room became the pleasant chatter coming from the china and the metal. If your hands shook, only the surface of the tea as you brought the cup to your mouth could tell. Few minutes later, you felt readier, a little clearer. Tea always helped that. You didn’t need friends in this house. They didn’t have to like you. You did nothing wrong.

The footsteps came close to the music room and the door opened without a pause. 

Chapter Text

“How is it?”

Sasha made a face. 

“Feeling super-duper lucky I’m not Gerard or marrying Gerard,” she said in a tense whisper. “We can wait a little more, boss.”

Erwin sighed. “Told you to not call me that.” He leaned against the wall as Sasha continued to listen to what was going on inside, slightly sweating as usual. “Any longer and Madam will chew me out.”

“Shhh.”

Erwin sighed and tapped his foot impatiently. Gerard asked him for this before they arrived, for him to looking over what was going on and try to decompress the tension when it was needed most, a request so vague, it was perfectly childish.

And try to delay Levi as much as possible.

That last order was something Erwin was not willing to even attempt.

“They’re talking about how it’s too fast.”

Erwin chuckled to himself silently. He could blame neither of you for hurrying, but it was going to be a thunderstorm if Levi joined your group right in the middle of that. Sasha nudged him with her foot and he leaned closer to the entrance, but it turned out he did not really need to. The voices rose exponentially and Erwin quietly scurried to the cart as Sasha moved away to make room for his interruption.

-

“I hope she’s okay,” the young woman with strawberry blonde hair said over her notes, lazily turning the pages without really registering the content, sprawled on the floor covered with a fluffy off-white carpet, a bunch of books scattered around in a heap of colorful mess. 

Mikasa shrugged without lifting her head from the desk she was seated at. She was just as worried, but she knew not to dwell when the push had come to shove and passed. “You know how she is.”

Hitch stopped, balancing the highlighter on her finger thoughtfully and said nothing.

“Always more pessimistic once it starts,” the stern looking young woman mechanically continued in a low voice.

The other laid down on her back with a grunt. “Well, guess we’re both optimistic over-thinkers, like she said.”

Mikasa smiled to herself, head still buried in the book, back straight as she was always in the right posture, alert, ready.

Your two best friends that were almost sisters to you, sat together studying in the apartment complex you all lived happily next to one another, far away from where you currently were, and wondered how you were faring with the plunge you took.

-

The man approaching the room with sure steps had no desire to welcome anyone anywhere, not his brother, and certainly not you. Another show, another duty, nothing important, just a waste of his time. At the end of the day, he had nothing out of order, nothing to cover, not one opening. No element of surprise waiting for him and nothing to be read from his demeanor - nothing to be used against him. This was just how he had always been, his face unreadable and stoic, his will as immovable and steady as a rock - something that ran in the family, something potent and simmering in the blood. The only people who had something to worry about were the two newcomers waiting for him with their little games, petty, powerless, arrogant.

With an air of confidence that bordered on aggressive, Levi Ackerman entered the music room without knocking. 

-

“Ah,” Kuchel cooed. “There you are.”

The dark haired man that entered the room stole the air with his presence alone. His cold eyes remained for merely a second on the couple before jumping back to the older woman and giving her a formal nod of acknowledgment. 

“Mother.”

Your hopes that the man would not be as attractive as he was in the pictures deflated like a balloon. The photos did not even do him justice - Levi Ackerman was positively magnetic. He was short yet bulky, but his muscular body and wide shoulders that radiated strength weren’t nearly the most striking thing about him. His sharp glare alone was enough to intimidate a wild animal into submission, oppressive in his dominance as his silver, narrow eyes landed on you and stayed a little longer than the rest, making you feel like a butterfly pinned on a display, naked and judged thoroughly. You doubted anything could manage to be seen more than a mere sufficient where this man was concerned, he seemed intent on not being impressed by anything the world could offer, and you, near compulsively and titillated by your own competitive and self-defeating spirit, despite all your better judgment and own sizable ego, were overcome by the desire to be liked by this man. 

“So glad you could join us, honey.” Kuchel’s tone in response to his distant nod was genuine and sweet, low in something that resembled reverence, making anyone else feel like an outsider. You had no questions left regarding who the most favored child of the house was - and the older brother seemed almost unaffected, entitled, likely spoiled by the attention.

“This is my brother Levi,” Gerard said unnecessarily with a constricted edge in his voice, gesturing at the dark haired man with a show of respect. You reached your hand reflexively, your brain leaving you on autopilot, a becoming, small smile on your face.

Your hopes of being liked by him were shattered quickly as he looked at your offered hand, then back to your eyes with the same cold glare, and made no move to hold your hand. You quickly dropped it and erased the polite smile from your face, replacing it with detached, dismissive neutrality, insides feeling like they were dropped into a pool of iced water right from a boiling can. 

“Levi must be tired,” Gerard said in a nervous way that made you feel even more sour and displeased. He was too quick to intervene, but not to chastise, you started to get the feeling this was something he had a lot of practice doing. You offered no recognition of your fiancé’s words and sat back on the couch, a little further away from him than you had been before. Fixing your gaze to a place on the display cabinets at the back, you pretended not to feel the piercing and inappropriate gaze of the older man fixed on you.

Kuchel cleared her throat. “How was work, dear?”

“Nothing out of ordinary,” Levi said with a monotone as he walked to take the armchair furthest from the group without even looking back at Kuchel.

“We were just talking about her education,” she explained as if Levi cared to hear and quickly moved on before he could offer any predictable, unpleasant commentary. “I really hope my brother can make it to the dinner, he’d love to meet you as well.”

Dinner.

Right. 

You doubted you could stomach anything with your nerves in this tense atmosphere. You already weren’t feeling up to it before, now even less after meeting the infamous brother. It wasn’t a part of your plans with Gerard before coming, but you knew you couldn’t refuse without making it worse. At least so far Kuchel hadn’t been completely awful, you tried to console yourself.

“You see, he gets so busy-“

“He gets busy screwing around,” Levi interrupted Kuchel dismissively, lighting a cigarette while the obscene word echoed like a foreign wind in the room.

“My brother gets caught up in his work,” she said, pretending not to hear it, wearing a sweet, fragile smile. Her former, ghostly yet regal appearance was replaced by an almost manic, hysterical demeanor, her face was flushed and alive with something that was not entirely healthy. Suddenly she seemed so nice and harmless, when you compared her to Levi. Maybe it was genuine, the sympathy - maybe she was also disturbed by his son’s behavior, maybe she felt bad, apologetic. 

Realizing your thinking was making too swift a turn, you tried to remind yourself not to fall into the trap of relative niceness. None of the people in this house was to be trusted, if you wanted to win. As conflicting thoughts waged their own war in you, the silence occupied the place. You tried not to look at him, but you were hyper-aware of the presence on the left side of the room, you could almost see the disinterested, disdainful expression he wore, eyeing all of you like he couldn’t bear to act civil for a moment. 

“Why don’t you give your fiancée a little tour until dinner time?”

It felt odd to hear that acceptance from Kuchel, you wondered if her former reluctance really was just faint, a natural apprehension towards a big change, and now that the head of the family firmly disrespected you, she wanted to compensate for it. Before you could even say anything, you were held from your elbow and gently led out the door, leaving the mother and the eldest son behind. The butler immediately met you at the glass-panelled double gate - Kuchel was so gracious as to order him to act as your tour guide like it wasn’t formal enough if you strolled around the house only the two of you. The friendly looking man still seemed fairly plastic, but at least he was unlikely to start to needle you out of the blue, so it was better than to have another member of the family. 

“Where do you wanna go first?”

You shrugged at Gerard, a little confused at the question.

“Why don’t we start from the beginning?” The butler gestured at the stairway leading into darkness at the left end of the foyer, curling down right after a painted, ancient looking amphora placed on a delicate mahogany display and a beautiful landscape painting hanging on top. You nodded faintly, and moved with the group as Gerard held your arm politely and the butler led the way. The first level below the ground was apparently closed off with stairway going down continuously, and the butler quickly explained that it had a different entrance that led to the indoor pool, gym and sauna. The cellar and main storage was placed right below that and despite how well kept it was, being a little sensitive, you started to feel a little choked up, cold airflow from ventilation making you feel a little sick immediately. The first vestibule was darker than you thought it would be, with yellow-orange wall lights casting deep shadows on wooden panels, and on many doors, seemingly locked. The butler reached for the one in the middle, right across the stairs.

“This is the wine cellar,” he said, welcoming you to a mid-sized room filled with bottles on shelves and a bunch of barrels.

“We have a pretty nice collection since both my mom and Levi can’t part from it,” Gerard added jokingly. 

“Late Mr Ackerman was quite the connoisseur,” the butler interjected. “Though I think young master has more of a taste for scotch these days.”

You had to remind yourself that young master meant Levi Ackerman. You could almost see him with a glass of whiskey in your mind’s eye, sneering at people. Maybe being drunk would make him less annoying. Gerard wasn’t that much of a drinker, and certainly not of something that strong. You had never seen him really drunk either, only relaxed after a few beers while you tried something new each time, fairly resistant to it yourself. You absent-mindedly listened to the chatter of the butler who was clearly enjoying the opportunity to bestow the most unnecessary knowledge known to man to the guest, as if he wanted to groom you to be their sommelier instead. Despite barely listening, you were starting to get a most bitter picture of Late Mr Ackerman from the way he was being talked about, he seemed awfully similar to Levi, even when you barely knew him either. Your eyes scanned the place - the cellar itself was only mildly creepy, as all cellars were, but you shivered with the thought of being left in an obnoxiously big manor that had a two story deep basement with a group of people none of which wanted you there as the butler droned on about what was the optimal way to store the specific type of bottles. This was how horror films began, wasn’t it?

“I’m not much of a drinker,” Gerard said, misinterpreting the bored and mildly disturbed look on your face. “Neither whiskey, nor wine.”

“Yes,” you smirked. “You’re more of a mint liquor kind of person.”

“You caught me.”

You smiled and turned to the butler. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have a cellar for tequila?”

Erwin politely smiled while Gerard gave out a chuckle.

“We really aren’t that big of drinkers,” your fiancé finally said. “This is giving you a bad impression. Come on, let’s go up.”

After passing on the rest which made the majority of the floor where the actual food and and other necessities were stored, you all finally went back to the ground level and once again met the the amphora and the beautiful painting hanging on top. A little further, there were the double doors with glass panels separated by an ancient looking clock that was stopped, with two large potted plants on the outermost sides that opened to the corridor that went to the place of the first meeting. From right across, it looked even lovelier.

Erwin pointed at the nearly camouflaged door next to the painting.

“That’s the common elevator room you can use,” he explained. “Goes to every level except the attic and the cellar, the latter only has access by the service elevator.”

“It’s gonna be hard to remember everything,” you murmured just to have something to say. 

“Erwin just likes sharing irrelevant details,” Gerard consoled you. “You only need to know the common route.”

“The lounge is also in this section, next to the music room we were in,” Erwin continued, gesturing at the large opening again. “There aren’t a lot of people there, usually.”

A lot of people? There were only two brothers and a mother in this house, and an uncle being said to not really living here all that much and younger son away to study. If that was his roundabout way of saying it was unused, you could make some use of it then, you had no desire to sit with them tensely and force yourself to make small talk. But what you really wondered was if these rooms were going to be open to your usage in practice, at all. You got the feeling you were going to be holed up in your bedroom when Gerard wasn’t there.

Maybe even when Gerard was there too, you sighed inwardly, considering the recent interactions.

“There are also the main library, and few more storage and utility rooms,” Erwin swatted the air with his hand like dismissing a question you haven’t even asked. You wanted to go see the library, but the butler led you the opposite way, left side from the main entrance to the house. The drawing room was the first one once you made it in the foyer, and it was absolutely grand. You barely stepped inside before the butler stopped abruptly, making you nearly walk into his back. From above his shoulder, your eyes met the giant, darkly colored oil painting covering up the wall right across; a portrait of a dark haired, intimidating man with steel eyes, the type of art emperors would get done. It wasn’t hard to guess who that was - it was just shocking how much he looked like Levi Ackerman.

“Used when entertaining guests,” the butler explained curt and dry, as if it would be a crime to let you step inside. What was your official title, then? Auditioner as a member of the family which excluded you from the nice treatment given to guests? You could see an ornate door few meters right of the painting but you refrained from asking anything more to avoid getting brushed off unpredictably. Next to the drawing room, there was an entrance to the corridor that apparently went to the kitchen, and after that, right before the stairs that went up, there was a dining room. The butler led you all there after nearly shooing you away from the first one, and you immediately decided that this room was your favorite so far. The white casement windows were from floor to the ceiling and they faced the gardens in which you could see decorative pools, beautiful roses sunbathing daintily, double-sided French doors, tulle curtains in a pleasant, neutral cream tone pulled to the side with black satin ribbons, sweeping the floors which were also made out of pale wood. Even the air here felt different.

“This one is usually preferred during daylight hours,” the butler continued to narrate. “We usually use the one above for supper when it’s necessary.”

“When it’s necessary?”

“As you’ll soon see yourself, the people of this household have a bad habit of being incapable of meeting during dinner hours,” Erwin shook his head with a smile as if he was hiding a bit of reproach, like a sad parent forsaken by his haughty children ignoring their elders in favor of frivolities.

Gerard, however, just rolled his eyes.

“What he means is that I was away in dorms and my brother and uncle are usually busy, so our mom takes her dinner wherever she’s sitting around.”

“Precisely,” Erwin continued, as if he wasn’t antagonized. “A sad sight. Which is obviously due to change once you’re both back and settled.”

God I hope not, you thought as you faked yet another smile. Not having to eat dinner with any of these people sounded fantastic.

“Why not eat here in the evenings?”

Erwin shrugged. “It’s more suitable in tone for daytime.”

You sighed inwardly. Apparently this room simply wasn’t gloomy and unappetizing enough for the disagreeable people of the house.

“Would you like to go upstairs right now?”

“Aren’t there many more we haven’t seen here yet?” The place had looked way too big from outside, it was impossible for it to be comprised of only what you have seen so far, even including the ones the butler just dismissed on his own.

“Nothing that would be to your interest,” Erwin said. “Most are just functional. The rest are three separate wings mostly closed to usage. We simply don’t need that many rooms with a small family living in.”

You don’t need this many either, you bit your tongue. “So are they completely sealed?” It felt scary to be in a place where you could get ..

“More or less,” the butler smiled. “We open them up to clean them every once in a while, so as to avoid any hazards, but usually that is all.”

You wondered what that more or less really meant.

“It’s just a bunch of rooms,” Gerard said impatiently. “And most furniture there is outdated anyway.”

The butler chuckled. “Don’t let your mother hear you say that.”

“Just don’t wanna get lost and locked in or something in there,” you defended your curiosity half jokingly, feeling like you stepped into something you shouldn’t, while smiling politely at the butler’s joke. “Actually, a bit worried about finding my way either way.”

“That won’t happen,” Gerard reassured you. “Just remember to keep to the common route.”

Erwin nodded warmly, humming in approval.

“Upstairs we have my mom’s bedroom, secondary dining room, guest bedrooms, and other extra rooms, mostly empty,” Gerard narrated as you went up the stairs. “It’s also where our uncle hangs around when he gets the inspiration.”

“And locked up wings and utility rooms,” you added before you could help yourself.

“Yes,” Erwin answered this time.

“Our rooms and my brother’s are on the third.”

“And you will find that more of it is in active use,” Erwin added.

“One whole floor for just three people,” you said.

“Levi likes a lot of private workspace, so you’d be surprised.”

“So it’s just him and us then.”

There were few beats of silence that made you wonder.

“He’s a really busy guy so chances are you won’t even come across him.” The smile on his face felt a little forced.

You sighed inwardly. You were just being sarcastic as the older man’s dislike for you was apparent, but it felt like your fiancé’s reaction had more to it than that. You wondered if they had a big falling out before he moved out.

The rest of the trip on the second floor was cut very short, since most rooms upstairs were bedrooms or just private spaces. There were supposed to be entertainment rooms and ateliers somewhere, but they didn’t seem interested in showing you more and you weren’t really in the mood anyway, you wanted the tour to be over already - once you all got to the second floor it had started to feel like a maze, everything looking identical. You decided you didn’t like this section of the house at all.

“Are you tired?”

You gave a nod. “Just a little.”

“I’ll take you up to my room,” Gerard said, then added quickly. “So you can see it, I mean. And the bigger one we will move in later.”

“I’d like that,” you said with genuine relief.

“You’ll get your own private room when we marry too. I doubt you’ll need it much though,” he added with a smile. You smirked back to him, feeling a little back to yourself for a brief moment. Gerard turned to the butler at the foot of the staircase that climbed up.

“I’ll take it from here.”

The older man bowed and left, while you two walked up the grand staircase again. Perhaps it was the effect of you two being alone, but this level felt deserted, much more than the one below. There was a deep, eerie silence to it, like you couldn’t hear your own footsteps on the carpeted floor if you tried. Despite there being no major difference in the hallway, it somehow felt much colder. You didn’t like the idea of wandering around at night here, just going from the dining room to the bedroom could end up a daunting task. You hoped the inside of the rooms were friendlier. Gerard’s room wasn’t too far from the top of the stairs, located on the left side of it.

“Welcome home,” he announced melodically as he opened the door. The walls inside also had wooden paneling, like most of the places you saw, though this one had a lighter, reddish tint. The light coming from the lamps on tables and walls was low, soft, reminiscent of the ones in the cellar but much brighter. The furnishing was practical and serious, rather impersonal, like Gerard took everything when he moved to the dorms with him and left only the bare bones behind. It was a beautiful room, but it didn’t feel like it belonged to anyone.

“So,” you looked around in a showy way, pretending to be preoccupied, feeling a little more energetic once you were alone with your fiancé. “This is supposed to be too small for us?”

“Well, you saw the rest of the house.” he laughed in a genuine way.

“Only a little,” you chuckled, poking fun at how much you skipped. “Where’s the one you want us to move in instead?”

He pointed at his right. “Two doors from here.”

“Alright, let’s see it.”

Gerard lifted his eyebrows.

“Don’t wanna make a stop here?”

You stopped, realizing his earlier implication and gasped theatrically, pretending to be scandalized. “With your butler, five hundred maids, and your mom waiting downstairs?”

Gerard lifted his hands in mock defeat. “Sorry, sorry, only kidding. I know you’re not in the mood.”

“Surprised if you are, with how it all went.”

Gerard’s face fell, sudden, with something disturbingly foreign, before he schooled his expression back.

“Just ignore it, please.”

You scowled a little as he moved to the door but said nothing.

“These three rooms are actually tied,” Gerard pointed at the side wall, grabbing the handle of a door you didn’t pay attention before. “Both should be unlocked now.”

The next room was furnished like a little study, and the main suite next to it was pretty much the same as Gerard’s current one, just slightly bigger with double closet space and a couple’s bathroom. The upgrade to this one was still a relief, the idea of living in what you assumed was your fiancé’s childhood room regardless of how it looked felt too infantile.

“So?”

“Well, gonna have to buy a lot to fill up all that space,” you made eyes at him.

Gerard laughed and said nothing.

“So is that small one our study room? Could come in handy.”

“If you want,” he simply said.

“Well, it’s literally just here. Part of the whole thing, isn’t it?”

“Sometimes they forget it locked,” he said, looking a little distracted. “Should remind them about the new arrangements.”

You left the rooms soon, and noticed the left side of the main hall was cut shorter than the level below, dark, intimidating looking oak doors giving you a good idea what lied behind.

“What else is there?”

“Levi’s side,” Gerard’s confirmed your suspicions.

“Something tells me it’s not just a room.”

“Of course. He has a private space for almost anything."

“So he can live there like a hermit?”

“No, not as much as you’d think. He isn’t here too much anyway.”

You nodded, it made sense with what you had gathered about him, while his family had always been impossibly rich, he apparently showed incredible prowess in growing the business. That was what the news said at least - you still knew enough that the big boss of a conglomerate wouldn’t have lot of time to spare.

You walked to the stairs, finally tearing your gaze from the double doors that seemed impenetrable.

“So? Another up?”

“Huh, that, it’s more of an attic.”

“Then…down?”

Gerard nodded, still looking awfully distracted, but he quickly joined you with a smile and you both walked all the way down without speaking. At the foot of the grand staircase on the ground floor, you saw Erwin waiting for you with an energetic smile again.

“Why don’t we go to the gardens before dinner? A little fresh air would be good for all of us,” Gerard suggested.

“Certainly,” the butler bowed and led the way outside this time.

You immediately felt better, back to your own skin under weakened, dying sunlight, grateful for the change of scenery. Erwin continuously narrated about the land like he had never been interrupted and you were also back to mostly ignoring him while you walked. It was hard to do with heels on, but you tried to remain on the cobble path as much as possible.

“…from east to west. Much bigger than you could discover in a day, naturally. The stables are fairly close, though.”

“…would introduce you to our gardeners, but they appear to be busy in the grove, there was a small incident with horses-”

“…favorite flower. Young master’s paternal grandmother had much famed rose gardens, winning many prizes, particularly the coveted-“

In the distance, falling on the left side of where you entered the estate, you could see a stone entrance to a maze-like structure with trees seemingly surrounding most of it, surprising you that you hadn’t seen it when you walked all the way up. You were momentarily unable to take your eyes off of it, eyes pulled towards it like a magnet.

“What’s that?” You could hardly keep childish curiosity from your voice.

Erwin stopped abruptly.

“Ah, you found our labyrinth.”

Labyrinth? You turned to him and gaped.

Erwin nodded happily at your wordless shock as if you exclaimed that you found an extra hairdryer in the bathroom drawer.

“And why- “ you tried to change your expression to not sound rude, weirdly accusing, unsure what you would even be accusing them of, and failing. “Why would you have a labyrinth in your gardens?” Something about the structure unnerved you. In the dusk, it seemed ancient, intimidating.

The butler seemed a little surprised, almost like he didn’t expect such a question.

“Ah, you see-“

“Well well well, look what I found,” a tall, rugged looking man approached your group. “Little runaway mouse brought home a cute kitten.”

“Uncle Ken,” Gerard said, a surprisingly open grimace taking over his face. “Please be normal for once.”

The roar of a laughter almost caught you off guard. This man seemed alike no one in this family.

“Look at who’s talking! Did living like a normal person finally grow you some balls too?”

“This is unfortunately my uncle Ken,” Gerard turned to you with a pained expression. “My mom’s brother. He thankfully doesn’t live here too much as you got by now. When he’s not working, he’s too busy, uh, exploring the world, in his own words.”

“Wasn’t that a nice description,” Kenny snickered. “I’m around enough, kid.” He looked at Gerard who didn’t avert his gaze for a second, something sinister and calculated swimming in his silver eyes. The eyes that you suddenly realized were eerily similar to Levi’s, even though his attitude and looks could not be more different. You could study him only briefly before he sharply abruptly turned to you with an exaggerated bow like he was summoned.

“Call me Kenny,” he said, planting a kiss to your hand. “Happy to make the acquaintance of such a beautiful young lady.” The gesture felt both foreign and fitting on this man, like he was raised with it, but did not practice it enough. Or practiced it too much when he was not raised with it at all. He was hard to decipher, but you didn’t make him wait for long before smoothly introducing yourself. As eccentric as he was, at least he didn’t refuse to hold your hand like his nephew did. He joined your little tour, but it didn’t last for long.

“There you are,” Kuchel walked up to your group, with two maids you had seen before trailing her and no sight of Levi Ackerman. “Why don’t we have a dinner on the gardens tonight? For our guest’s honor,” Kuchel chirped. “So nice of you to come early too, Ken. It’s been so long we all have shared the same table.” She leaned in to grab your wrist amicably this time. “Maybe you’ll bring us luck.”

Wouldn’t go that far, you thought, feeling a little off balanced from how she grabbed you, still smiling as held onto your arm, leading you to the area on the further side of the manor with the rest of your group following behind. Palace really would be more apt, you thought, looking at the windows, wondering how many rooms were sealed, closed off to usage, unnecessary waste of place only serving to make the place less like home, creepy, like a labyrinth within itself. You noticed Kuchel had nervously started to play with the collar of her black, lacy dress with her free hand, the decorated fabric wrapping around her neck. You wondered if she had been drinking back there while you were touring. You walked further away from the side you entered the estate alongside the main building as the silhouettes sank more and more into darkness, a hazy dusk settling in. It felt stifling and dream-like, on the edge of realizing you weren’t awake. The feeling was sharply contrasted with the beauty of the scenery, the beautiful grove filling up most of your vision. The place Kuchel had led you, still nervously grabbing onto your arm, was a little opening with ornate garden lamps circling around, casting a warm yellow-orange light on the seating area with a rectangle table in the middle, like glowing fairies. The place was naturally not set up for dining yet, but the butler was quick, and the maid whose name you learned was Sasha quickly came to help take care of it. You sat right between Gerard and Kuchel, just at the last minute realizing you may have gotten her spot at the short end of the table. Not wanting to appear too weak trying to be polite, you refrained from asking anything and continued to sit, mildly uncomfortable. Maybe that was a test - she was the one who moved to that side, after all.

The butler came back again with a wide array of appetizers and lit the candles before placing them around the table.

“Apologize for the tardiness,” he said nonsensically. It was unavoidable since you were already here when Kuchel dragged you all to eat in the gardens. You wondered where this man found the power to be so humble and tolerant and if he could do the courtesy of injecting some of it to you. Maybe he constantly visualized his bank account being enriched with zeros by his employment here.

Ten minutes, the butler was telling to Kuchel. 

There was still no sight of Levi Ackerman. You were half hoping that he would skip it to protest your involvement in the family. Maybe he was just too busy to eat, buried in his much important work. Gerard started to talk to you about his recommendations from their famous chef while you observed from the corner of your eye Kenny and Kuchel chatting amicably about something you couldn’t discern. As she turned to you, saying she hoped you would enjoy the selection, Levi Ackerman walked up unhurriedly to the single seat at the short end of the table, right across yours. You were still for a second, and above the candle’s flames, your eyes met.

“You were almost late, dear,” Kuchel immediately addressed her son, which the man chose to ignore. He turned to Kenny to mutter something you couldn’t hear with a cold, stony face, the older man immediately leaned in as a response, former snicker slightly fading into genuine interest. You realized the butler was next to you, inquiring about your choices, quickly listing you a dozen names you could barely register. You said whatever name you caught by the tail end and gave a sure smile to look like you weren’t so out of it, swimming in some sort of haze, and found the penetrating gaze of the man right across the table staring back at you again. 

Does he think I stole his mommy’s spot?

Too fucking bad. 

“Shouldn’t be too late,” the butler said and left with the maid, leaving you all to your devices. Gerard was no longer talking, but Kenny was quietly telling something to Levi, while you tried to occupy yourself, looking at any place else to avoid meeting the gaze of the man seemingly hellbent on making you uncomfortable. It was hard to escape with him right in front of you without looking too much like a distracted child on the dinner table.

After some time that felt like a century, the butler and two maids came back and scattered around the table like they were performing a well-choreographed dance routine, placing the delicious smelling food all around you. You would love to properly enjoy them, but not when the nerves still made your stomach squeeze into a tight ball. I have a feast and no appetite, you thought angrily. At least with luck this won’t be the last.

“Dim the lights,” Levi ordered the butler. You could already barely see what you were eating, but nobody on the table seemed to have a problem with his request. It looked like his talk with his uncle was over and he seemed even more irritable than before.

“How was work today, dear?”

You lifted your head just in time to see Levi Ackerman tear his eyes away from you reluctantly at the question. Did she forget she asked that already?

“Nothing major.”

“Soon your brother will join you too, that will help all that workload,” she turned to you unexpectedly then, her face looking too flustered in candlelight. “He works just too much.” Levi scraped the plate with the knife while cutting his steak but Kuchel continued like she didn’t notice it at all. “He’s going to make use of his degree immediately.”

Gerard was studying economics with business management which always seemed to linger in the back of your head because it just felt like a odd fit that was fairly hard to associate. It was like an outfit that didn’t belong to him, but you never heard him complain about it. He actually didn’t talk much about it at all, so maybe that was the reason you felt like forgetting, neither about his major nor any specifics about his classes. You sometimes wondered how much of it was him feeling the pressure from his family and how much genuine desire for the field, but you thought it was the type of mood killer question you should never being up on your own.

“He’s gonna make use of his copying skills first.” Levi threw a hostile look at Gerard. “Nepotism has no place in my company.”

Didn’t your father leave the company to you directly? You burned to ask. Do you consider yourself an only child? His bluntness was shocking to you, you were not even sure how one could possibly address such an attitude. Regardless of how much he had done, you were surprised to see him act like it all belonged to him alone, like he built it all from nothing. The family money had been ancient, and the younger brother had just as much right to it as he did, none of them had done this on their own, not them and not their fathers, not the fathers of their fathers.

“Maybe you should send him to overseas bureau,” Kenny interrupted with a leer. “So he could show how independent he is.”

A ghost of a scowl passed from Gerard’s face while Kuchel smiled and coughed. “I don’t think his girlfriend would enjoy that very much.”

You chuckled politely back and tried to occupy yourself with shoving down your salmon. Thank god you were almost done.

“Trying to get rid of me so soon? I thought you didn’t like me being independent and wanted me back.”

Kuchel cooed at Gerard, sounding almost hysterical again. You eyed her glass, half still filled with red wine.

“Not even fun to joke about, darling.”

You fought the urge to look at the time. Everyone was almost done with their food and you slowly sipped the best white wine you had ever tasted and tried to swallow bites past the lump in your throat. Across you, Levi Ackerman was ordering his glass to get refilled again.

The butler was soon back with new orders. You had politely declined the dessert but Gerard unfortunately got a giant St Honore. You couldn’t suppress a little scowl at him. Couldn’t he read the room? Now you were going to have to sit there unoccupied trying to avoid looking Levi Ackerman in the eye while Gerard stuffed his face. He looked a little calmer, strangely, while you had become more irritated. It was already passing eight and you wanted to leave already. Watching Gerard shovel food into his mouth from your side eye, you sipped the rest of your wine slowly. It did help your nerves a little but you didn’t want to drink enough to get too relaxed - you needed to be on your guard with them. And it was never a good look to drink too much at first meeting either, regardless of what your hosts had been doing. Your eyes found Levi Ackerman’s glass, moved on to whiskey. As you waited in silence, your thoughts started to wander freely. He didn’t seem at all to favor his brother so his unabashed, intrusive hostility against the marriage seemed even more offensive. Unlike his mother, he was not out to protect Gerard - he just clearly did not want his blue-blooded family to be associated with you. The idea, once your initial nerves had calmed down, filled you with anger.

“Dim the lights,” Levi ordered again, his voice throatier. Did he want you all to sit together in complete darkness? Anyone still eating wouldn’t be able to tell the bugs from food.

Kuchel was talking about how some relatives wanted to reconnect, and how it was just the right time. Kenny was muttering something too, sometimes turning to Levi, sometimes to Gerard. They all sank into background noise in the darkness, as you relaxed a little despite yourself. Your eyes traveled on the dark edge of the trees, reaching far beyond where you could discern. You had been worried about getting lost, locked inside some unused place in the house, but you wondered how easy it would be to get lost out here in the woods if you wandered. If it would be any dangerous, if you could make it back alone. Then made the mistake of forgetting where you were.

Shrouded in darkness, Levi Ackerman was staring at you again.

The buzzing around you faded and the air felt still, like you were alone in the darkness, groves nearer, an encounter with a predator unarmed. You would have no place to run to, no one that could help once he came at you, and you knew he eventually would. A premonition of inevitability sank as his steel eyes shined eerily in the dimmed light, unabashed in hostility.

You wanted to break it, say something, to try to embarrass him for his rudeness, for all his odd behavior, but you were tongue-tied, spellbound, rendered incapable as you held his gaze.

“Why won’t you two stay the night, dear?” Kuchel addressed Gerard. You felt like a heavy weight was lifted once the spell was broken and you were brought back to earth. You took a look at your fiancé’s plate and with relief saw that he was finally done with his dessert.

“She has classes and a lot of projects these days, mom.”

Kuchel sat back a little, blinking, looking at you like she was surprised. “Then surely she won’t mind if we steal you for a little while, will she?”

You showed nothing except a polite smile and shook your head. “Of course not.”

“Then it’s settled,” Kuchel clapped and grabbed his younger son’s hand across the table while Levi’s eyes narrowed, and a casually condescending, pure unadulterated hatred passed his face.

“You didn’t change much, did you,” he said, freezing the air in a second. This time, you were the one who stole a look at him, his hawk-like gaze was fixated on Gerard who refused to meet his eyes.

“Your room is ready, of course,” Kuchel interrupted, voice weaker, not even daring to diffuse the tension. Gerard pushed his glass away, dropping the napkin. You noticed Kenny watching it all with an amused look.

“Our driver will drop you off,” Gerard said weakly. You nodded and pretended politely to look at the time. “It’s pretty late already. I gotta go.”

“Already? Tomorrow’s Sunday.” You fought the urge to roll your eyes at him.

“I have a lot to finish for Monday,” you lied. “You’ll return for the week, right?”

Gerard nodded and got up with you. “I’ll drop by on Monday morning before the class. Let me walk you out.”

You turned to the table.

"Much pleased to finally meet with all of you."

Deepened smile stretched like a theater mask, your voice sounded mocking on its own volition, like a tricky promise of a woodland fairy as their lights blinked, circling around.

-

You could finally breathe when you stepped inside your studio. Not even able to muster the energy to change your clothes and shower, you let yourself drop to the bed and let out a deep sigh. It was bothersome that they were going to talk about you before you could talk about them with your fiancé, but you didn’t feel like calling him when he was in that place. You were overcome with the paranoia they would listened to all calls. Or something. 

That was tiring and not at all good for your already suspicious nature. You didn’t remember being this tense ever since you were with your foster family. You felt torn, regretting getting yourself involved in this mess, wondering if you should just tell your fiancé to get you two a place outside. Wondering if he would even accept it. Wondering if he could, at all. No matter how reluctant he seemed to move back when he was with you, he came off quite powerless when faced with the rest of his family. You also felt stupid wanting to push away the chance to live in a place like that just because you couldn’t deal with a little stress.

“Hey,” you spoke to the receiver, realizing how sore your throat had become. Your friend was quick to answer.

“Fucking finally! We were so worried! How did it go?”

You smiled, feeling warm and safe in familiarity already. “As awful as it could possibly go.” It felt almost fun to talk about now that you were back in your safe haven.

“Do you wanna come over? Mikasa has just left but she’ll come running right back once she hears.”

“Nope, too tired. Let’s go over the details tomorrow.”

“Big gossip Sunday?”

“Yup.”

“Don’t bring Gerard.”

You laughed. “His mom took him prisoner, couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

Hitch whistled.

“You think they’re planning an intervention?”

“Most likely,” you said with a crooked smile, amused. “You should’ve seen his brother. He probably called me every nasty name in the book once I was out the door.”

“The really hot guy?” Hitch snickered.

“Unfortunately,” you said, settling more into the bed, not deigning to deny he was hot. “He hates my guts.”

“How did you manage to piss him off in one day?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

Hitch just laughed at your indignation. “Alright, alright. He probably hates his little brother is marrying a potential gold digger he met during his rebellious college days.”

“Well, that’s not his call, is it?”

Hitch made a noncommittal noise. “It’s gonna be his problem when you’re prancing around in his precious mansion half-naked with no prenup.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“About what? You know he doesn’t have the balls to ask you that.”

“His family sure does. They’d snipe both of us in our wedding than letting that happen, trust me.”

“That I would call a very negative mindset. You should change your perspective to manifest abunda-“

“I’m hanging up.”

“Fine, fine. You sound too negative though.”

“You just weren’t there, Hitch. His mom implied it right off the bat.”

“Ouch. That does sound hostile.”

Hostile. You rolled on the bed, your thoughts wondering to that man again, biting your lip not to share how aggressive and cold he was to you in much unnecessary detail. “Also, even if they were lenient, that brother alone would never allow it.”

“Maybe he’ll like you better once he gets to know you.”

You paused, trying not to feel affected by Hitch’s continuous suggestions about Levi Ackerman.

“Well, he can move out if he doesn’t like that I’m around.”

“Already trying to set claim to the mansion?”

“Not like I actually wanna be there,” you sighed. “But it looked like the only reason his mom may tolerate this marriage is to get his son back into that house.”

“He was that distant to them?”

You shrugged to yourself.

“Like some sort of royal family with constant power plays. We’ll talk tomorrow at our usual spot and don’t bring your projects.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll let Mika know.”

“If you can make it before she starts blasting off my phone. See ya.”

You dropped your phone from your hand to the bed dramatically and pushed off your shoes, getting into the bed only half-undressed. The meeting took away too much out of you and what you really needed was a good sleep.

Chapter Text

“Do you think she can handle it?”

“Do you want her to?”

“I wouldn’t ..want someone innocent to be dragged into this.”

“Is she innocent?”


-



The alarm shook you off from a deep, satisfactory slumber. For the tenth time. It was already twelve-thirty and you were running late. You finally got up, feeling a little dazed from having slept too much, your face a little puffy, with fading memory of confusing nightmares. You thoughts went to where they didn’t belong again and you shook yourself. Refusing to indulge just now, you went to take a quick shower before the meeting.

You quickly grabbed a pair of tiny booty shorts and a tank top that made you look like you were on a vacation despite the fact it was only March yet, put on giant sunglasses and let your hair free. You put on few pieces of jewelry, and sprayed yourself with an expensive perfume. It really didn’t feel like the semester was still going on, a feeling of an interlude, but you needed to remind yourself that you still had things to take care of that was not this marriage ordeal. Many things.

Before you had to leave, you stood in front of your mirror and took a good look at yourself, appreciative. You could see what others saw in you, and it felt good. Giving a tiny, self-satisfied smirk, you sauntered to your usual meeting spot, the little coffee house near campus. It was where you three met most often, a chic place right beside a rather large and luxurious shopping mall, walking distance from where you all lived. As you closed in, you noticed with satisfaction you weren’t even all that late, so your friends couldn’t bother you about that today either. As expected, you weren’t the first the arrive, Hitch was already seated in your usual corner when you entered the place, the book she promised not to bring open with her hurried scribbling all over it, but Mikasa surprisingly was absent, which was what was truly alarming.

You were finally in a good mood, in your element.

Your friend slapped her blook close and once she noticed you. “Well, you look…” Hitch paused, taking a once-over. “Nothing like a bride-to-be who got dragged by the family of the fiancé a day ago.”

You grinned, threw your bag to the cushy chair next to her and plopped down like a child. Hitch couldn’t help smiling at you.

"Thanks. I don’t plan on letting them get to me.”

"You don’t let anything get to you,” a monotone voice came - Mikasa just arrived with a deep, tired sigh, throwing her heavy bag on an empty chair right next to you. “You should care more.” It really showed on her how bad her life had been going recently.

“Nope,” you said, stealing a wipe of cream on Hitch’s coffee. “I care just the right amount.”

“Below bare minimum, you mean.”

“I can’t believe you arrived after her,” Hitch gasped while you giggled. “The world must be ending.”

“Five seconds.” Mikasa looked sullen and tired, eye bags visible. “Bad morning.” She was piled up with tons of school work, two side jobs, and there had been a huge family crisis recently which was the reason why that second job became necessary. You felt a little bad that you could not check up on her as much as you would like to, but you had your own drama to deal with. Mikasa cared way too much about everything and felt too responsible, and she was definitely in over her head this time, but you knew better than to tell her so. That was Hitch’s job and her repeated mistake - what Mikasa needed was always, you knew, a good listener and someone who just understood. You smiled a little sadly as she sat down with the weight of a reincarnated eighty year old war veteran.

“Need coffee.”

“I need coffee and an ungodly amount of sugar.”

“Did they not feed you enough yesterday?” Hitch yelled after you two, pushing the notebook back to her backpack she promised not to bring yesterday. “Was it all Michelin restaurant proportions?”

After the two of you quickly got your orders and happily settled down with your drinks, Hitch tapped the table excited for all the gossip.

“So, exactly how demonic were the rich bastards? I got the preview, just asking for Mika’s sake.”

You made a vague gesture with your hand and turned to Mikasa who looked worried and focused on you with all her attention despite looking extremely tired.

“Well, mom, not too bad. Uncle kinda creepy, but doesn’t hate me. Brother on the other hand…”

You summarized the events - detached, clinical, cheerful, free of the oppressive feeling you had been under yesterday. It was borderline entertaining to do now. You talked about the vastness of the estate, how the mother first was quite apprehensive and needling about everything but later she appeared to have accepted your involvement, at least to a degree. About the uncle that was certainly a character - Gerard had been quite accurate to describe him as such - but he did not seem to have any objections, so he was no enemy, you wanted to think. The friendly butler, the great food, the incredible amount of alcohol, the beautiful gardens. The stance the asshole brother took against you, which you left as the last footnote purposefully. The rooms, the plans, how Gerard’s mom clearly did not like how his son went away. How older brother seemed to manage everything, including the company, and was rather harsh towards Gerard as well. But that didn’t matter. In the light of the day, with people you trusted, everything was so much different. Ackerman family were just a bunch of assholes that had no hold on you - you were just as free as you had been, with more opportunities than before, and everything seemed nearly perfect.

“He just left you like that?” Hitch had a disgusted look, tapping her straw on the side of the plastic cup, after hearing the details about how Gerard chose to stay back at his mom’s insistence.

You shrugged, you had better things to worry about when it happened, so it was just rising to your consciousness level. “More like I left him behind.” You realized now you hadn’t even considered staying back with him, the possibility still tensing you involuntarily. It was too early for dealing with ghosts.

“Aren’t you worried about them sabotaging it?”

You let nothing on. You certainly were, but not enough to panic. You would have preferred to have the first mic after you two left the house, remaining silent during the car ride, and then, once you were home, you would have that little chat, intimate, under your control, and he would apologize for their behavior, you would respond that it was expected and not his fault and it would be all over. Now instead he was probably just hearing about what a bad idea you were. Would save me the headache, you thought, the words half-buried in your mind, but didn’t want to process the thought, you knew you would feel angry at yourself if it fully materialized. You were not someone so easily led by negative emotions - you could handle stress more than anyone, something nearly definitive of you. You were not about to sabotage yourself just because you couldn’t be bothered to be a little uncomfortable.

“Oh my god,” Hitch lifted her hands up in the air at your relaxed reaction, pulling you back to the moment. “How can you be so uncaring?”

“I’m not uncaring. It’s just,” you tried to articulate it to justify your attitude. “Isn’t it better if it ends now, if they’re that against it and if Gerard is so weak to them, rather than…” you made a face. “Putting myself in danger?”

It sounded a little too mature to your ears, suspiciously so. Too practiced, despite having just thought of it.

“That’s surprisingly sensible,” Mikasa murmured predictably, then scowled. “Danger?”

You knew you shouldn’t have said that - there just wasn’t a good enough alternate way to describe what it felt like. You didn’t want to talk about the murderous stares Levi Ackerman sent you, creepy uncle’s words that felt like they were filled with underlying meanings, the way the mother went hysterical once they joined your group. The vastness of the estate, something scary than impressive in contrast to how you had described it to your friends, the corridors that felt deserted despite all that grandeur, the rooms that you were either not invited in or were locked out of that you hoped to never be locked in, the maze-like floors you would get lost in if you didn’t stick to a certain route, a place where you could easily get killed and be disposed of without anyone’s notice or any hope whatsoever to find you, with millions of acre, that giant grove, gardens and the underground, and the amount of money and power one couldn’t even comprehend, let alone go against.

Maybe something in you just wanted to talk about your fears, without facing that it worried you directly.

“They’re billionaires,” you said simply, with a shrug. “Can’t be too hard for them to dispose of a body.”

Hitch looked at you with a mixture of shock and fear. “What the hell,” she said, voice higher than normal. “That’s too morbid even for you.”

“Just saying.”

You were much more self protective than both of them, and this was something all of you had been made aware of quite intensely. Mikasa seemed closed off, but she was self-sacrificial and motherly, with boundless affection. Hitch seemed materialistic, but was easily led by emotions and soft-hearted beyond comprehension. You on the other hand seemed more relaxed, more personable, but you were much focused on yourself and would never put yourself in a situation where you were at a disadvantage. You didn’t need anyone else worrying that you could end up in a place that would potentially harm you. You would protect yourself, by any means necessary.

“Did anything happen that would make you..”

“Oh my god, no,” you rolled your eyes at Hitch. You were sure, when you reasoned with yourself, it was just nerves and not instinct. You didn’t want to cause a baseless anxiety in your friends that would make you worry more in return. “I would tell you if there were, you know.”

If there was something to tell.

Mikasa turned to you all serious. “Just make sure to involve us if there is.”

“Yeah,” you said, thinking that if you couldn’t deal with it yourself, it would be hard for them to help anyway. But you were just being paranoid. “Don’t worry about me, Mika," you said playfully. "You know I’m used to being in the enemy territory.”

Mikasa didn’t look much less worried at all. “Hm,” she said. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Hitch’s phone interrupted the moment and she jolted recognizing the ringtone. Her reaction revealed everything.

“Ah, wonder who that is,” you smirked. Only one person could ruin your friend’s expression to such a degree, replacing it with a furious blush. Mikasa made a little amused noise next to you.

“Shut up you two,” Hitch whispered. “I won’t even answer.” She put the phone on the table with a little shove and pretended not to look, while you nudged her on the arm.

“Stop playing, you know that’s not the type of man for that.”

Hitch’s face wobbled and the facade broke, and she could withstand it only for a mere second. She quickly took the phone and answered it with a surprisingly timid Hi, hello, leaving the table while you and Mikasa giggled. For all her bravado and push to appear materialistic, Hitch was a true romantic at heart.

While she was away, you turned to Mikasa.

“Couldn’t even ask. Any news on the prison front?”

She shook her head, tiny happy expression fading into a dismal, grim one.

“Can’t get him out early. At least money will be ready by the time then.”

You nodded. You wanted to borrow the amount from Gerard for her, but she vehemently refused, not feeling close enough to him to be comfortable with borrowing from him. She still had some money leftover from Carla, always having preferred working hard to pay for her own expenses, but it wasn’t nearly enough to save it this time.

“Is he doing alright in there?”

Mikasa gripped the cup harder. “I think so. He can handle himself.”

It was obvious she still worried deeply. Eren being in a precarious situation was a common occurrence, but this one by far was the most dangerous to this date, where he was housed with serious criminals for a significantly longer time, and the amount required to bail him out far greater than his past legal troubles. Mikasa was still grateful that it was possible to get him out at least, with the right amount. What she really was worried about was the future and the downward spiral Eren had been on.

“I know he can,” you said, squeezing her cold hand left on the table like she didn’t know what to do with her limbs.

Hitch came back few minutes later with a defensive yet pleased expression.

“Someone’s happy,” you remarked.

“Stop already,” she whined.

“Back together?”

“He..ugh, maybe,” she caved in, not bothering anymore to hide it. “He still wants to continue to meet up as friends and see how it goes. If anything changed.”

You hummed thoughtfully and waited for a beat. “So you’ll have a plus one for my wedding.”

“God, so self-centered,” she laughed and rolled her eyes while you snickered back. Hitch and Marlowe were high school sweethearts, but it had never been a rose garden between the two. At first Hitch had been too messed up with her own issues, then it was their conflicting values, even though that had been the reason for the initial attraction. In the end they could not continue for too long and broke up, and Marlowe had moved away for almost two years, studying to become a prosecutor. Now he had come to realize that he also had been too hasty and too harsh, and Hitch, who, despite having kept her shallow appearance, had been quite broken up on it and had never quite got over him, was quite ready to give the relationship another chance. They had just been starting to reestablish contact, and it was happening fairly slowly. If it was any other man, you and Mikasa would advise her to move on, but both of you knew Marlowe was one in a million and his slowness didn't come from disinterest. Would send him to a strip club knowing he would close his eyes, you had said once to a crying Hitch. Do you know how rare is that?

Hitch knew, and so did you. As someone so worried about trust, you never had the problem with anyone cheating, because that required you to be involved with a man longer than a month. And emotionally get invested. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to get attached - it was just that you couldn’t find the right person.

At least that was what you assumed.

If you asked Hitch if she would do anything to marry a billionaire, she would ask if you were stupid. If you asked her if she would break up with Marlowe to marry that billionaire, she would stutter and refrain from answering.

If someone asked you the same question, you would say you would choose love, without a second of hesitation.

It made you wonder.

When you all found out about Gerard’s background, Hitch had been your strongest supporter. Considering none of you had any inheritance, with the exception of the old tidy house and some money in bank Carla left to Mikasa and Eren, that wasn’t unnatural at all. Hitch likened herself to be an opportunist, and on paper she was - she just usually didn’t have the heart.

Or the lack of it, for that matter.

“So?” Mikasa looked at you expectantly. Hitch smirked and put an elbow to the table.

“What?”

“Made any real plans in the meantime?”

“Like…getting married?”

Mikasa looked at you, unimpressed, like a judgmental mother with immovable beliefs. “The ring, the dress-“

“Multiple dresses,” Hitch gleefully interjected. “First time I’ve seen you postpone shopping.”

“Dresses,” Mikasa continued, rolling her eyes at the interruption. “Issue with classes, moving. You’ve started nothing.”

You groaned. “Too early, mother dearest.”

Both of them just stared at you. “You’re gonna start packing the very last night, aren’t you..”

“Fine, fine. I was planning on checking out something for the engagement party today. Wanna join?”

Hitch shook her head. “Can’t. Gotta drop by the library, this week might actually kill me.”

“Work,” Mikasa said simply.

“That’s fine, I’m definitely very decisive and can easily choose something on my own,” you said sarcastically.

“The dress is easy. You need to think about packing, you won’t have a lot of time around the wedding date.”

“Well, the dress isn’t easy,” you scowled at Mikasa. “How many times am I gonna get an engagement party?”

“Not like it’s gonna be in Versailles Palace.” Hitch deadpanned. You and Gerard decided to throw it in where you first met which was clearly a controversial choice among your friend group.

“I could if I wanted to,” you stuck your tongue out while Hitch rolled her eyes, a little amused. It bothered you a little when your friends were somewhat critical of the place, but you had no desire to change any plans or press on anything about it, nor to discuss it more. What you really wanted to talk about was different, something that had been in the back of your head for some time. “By the way, I was thinking that I keep the apartment.”

There was a moment of pause. The idea had been half-repressed for a while, somehow you had been reluctant to express it, as if you had expected too much resistance that you did not want to deal with. It felt like a nonsensical worry once you said it out loud, if you wanted to keep it, it wasn’t that big of a deal, wasn’t it?

“That sounds a bit like a bachelor pad,” Hitch frowned as if she was making a calculation.

You frowned a little, oddly enough, hearing an objection only made you more firm in your decision. “That’s only for men. We’re allowed to have our own space for sentimentality.”

“Sentimentality about the apartment where you think people stalk you.”

You narrowed your eyes at Hitch in semi-offense. “Someone is stalking me.”

“Right,” Hitch rolled her eyes. “You definitely have some professional stalker.”

“Nice to hear you think so lowly of me,” you declared dramatically. Hitch gave you the fish eyes jokingly, swirling her drink.

“Paranoid and easily offended,” she said. “Gerard will have his hands full.”

“I reject both accusations.”

Hitch didn’t falter and just pursed her lips, but you noticed that Mikasa seemed a little more tense.

“Is it all because you want to avoid packing?”

 

You three had a little less than an hour before Mikasa had to leave. Dejected, she got up, the lighthearted air on her completely gone. She had a lot to deal with before the week started. Finding a lawyer and organizing the documents took all her already little free time, and this week was not looking to be any better. You wondered where she could even find the energy. It felt like you would need a gun to your head to do the quarter of all the responsibilities she took upon herself willingly.

“Maybe you should leave him there a bit,” Hitch inconspicuously offered.

“Uh-oh.”

You pulled back a little, zipping your mouth. That was Mikasa’s soft belly. Expectedly, her face grew dark and she grabbed her bag a little too hard.

“Don’t start about him.”

You said nothing while Hitch looked a little bashful, but she wasn’t quite there yet. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in your group, so Mikasa was quick to react to the underlying critique. Hitch did not entirely approve of Mikasa’s life choices and Mikasa did not like at all to be meddled with when it came to one particular person. She said goodbye in monotone with a dark look on her while Hitch replied back, sheepish while you were loud and cheerful to compensate for the last minute tensity.

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” you yelled after her. She turned halfway and gave you a little smile and a nod.

“Oh good, she isn’t too mad.”

“She isn’t mad at me, you mean. You’re totally fucked.”

“You really have it easy.”

“Well, I know better than saying anything about Eren.”

Hitch gave you a judgmental look, as if to imply that you were not being helpful, but you just did not like interfering with such delicate matters, thinking nothing good or productive could come out of it, meanwhile Hitch was pushier about it, albeit with good intentions. It was not hard to guess which approach worked better with the third of the group, with her surprising sensitivity.

Maybe there was also a faint feeling of being an outsider aiding that, despite how close you all were, because Hitch came to Mikasa’s life earlier than you.

 
Your burst of energy seemed to quiet down after Mikasa left, the start of a desolate feeling you would get late at night after all visitors went home.

“Need more coffee,” you declared while your friend jokingly rolled her eyes to your harmless addiction and moved to get up as well. She had a lot of studying to do and you only pouted in response, knowing all of you already had spent most of the day outside together. She apparently was forced to go to the library to get some major work done for one specifically bothersome class, which she left to the last possible moment.

“Fine, leave me behind too.”

Hitch hugged you before she left. “Good luck with the shopping.”

You sighed, knowing you were unlikely to get anything done either way. Waving at Hitch for one last time across the window, you continued to sit for few extra moments while you sipped your coffee, and pulled out your phone only to realize your battery had died. Just great. You wondered if it was worth taking the time to shop if you couldn’t even listen to music while you walked around, groaning inwardly. This must be a sign telling you to go home directly - but then you remembered Gerard’s credit card.

Maybe one little trip could be tolerable. A quick one. Especially if you were trying on a lot of things and buying freely for a change.

Grabbing your little purse with renewed energy, you walked to the mall right across the street from the coffee shop. The dusk was just settling and the weather was a little colder than you expected, like it could rain a little later into the night. The streets were practically empty, just like the coffee shop had been, despite the fact it was supposed to be a busy day and earlier in sunlight it felt as warm as a tropical vacation spot with the place pleasantly occupied. Unlike the mall. There was always a feeling of loneliness there, even when it was crowded, this one often depressed you but you used it out of convenience anyway. Trying not to feel too moody without the music, you felt grateful when you started to feel the caffeine kick in as you strolled.

You wandered around, looking at everything in a new light. You hadn’t really been able to enjoy your new situation yet. Gerard did buy you nice things, but a shopping spree with his credit card hadn’t been possible before. It all happened so quickly, you could only digest and internalize and plan, and not enjoy the fact that you were going to be able to get anything you ever wanted very soon.

But not yet. Gerard had given you a credit card, but he hadn’t given you endless freedom, whatever endless freedom even meant in his dictionary. He said something about not wanting to go to extremes right off the bat, since he had been trying to be more independent. Not only that, but you yourself had to consider how it would look to the family just in case they kept strict tabs on expenditure anyway, without his warning regardless. Later, after you were married, there would not be any such restrictions, he quickly added, assuring you.

It was reasonable and you were perfectly fine with it, until it came to act upon it. Not knowing where the limit actually was irritated you, made you apprehensive. What was excessive to someone who was brought up in a palace? Or did he mean that in the terms you were used to? Now that would be really irritating. Would they even notice that level of expense? No, that was senseless, you thought. He most definitely would use his own standards. This was more a mental barrier for you, you never did well with restraint, any rule, especially when it was something so vague. Not like you were going to buy anything you saw, but the warning made you sour, and you needed to rid yourself of that unnecessary feeling, you wanted to enjoy yourself as much as possible while you could. This was practically the first time you could spend without thinking too much and you didn’t want anything to ruin it for you. You really wished now you had asked for clarifications, but it felt inappropriate, a little silly, like a little child asking for allowance. What was more ironic was that you didn’t even remember having a proper, regular allowance you could stash to get something you really wanted. Your family had been middle class, while you weren’t left deprived for anything, they had been on the careful side, on many different matters. You remembered your life with them with restrictions, with distance. There had always been a certain negative feeling, something that felt wrong, like you were being persecuted for something you couldn’t remember, not just with them but with the whole world, something was there to prevent you, that you were in a position to which you felt like you didn’t belong. Later your past would remain a hazy irritant, a panorama from someone else’s life, when you were deprived from even that much you had and met with more direct hostility, going from one family to another with visitations to the orphanage, guarding whatever you had left from others instead of daring to ask for more.

There wasn’t much anyone to blame about that. Not quite.

You realized you were walking without even seeing. You shook yourself, you had things to do instead of dwelling in the ancient past. Stopping abruptly, you looked around in the opening to finally pick some place to enter. The third floor was even more deserted, but it felt a little less suffocating than the ground level with its high glass ceilings. You looked up a little and tried to ground yourself to the moment. The sky was already dark above the barrier, but all you could see beyond that was the reflections coming from where you stood. There were so many stores here with the placement feeling like a maze, it was hard to memorize even though you must have come here hundreds of times. Where were your favorite brands located again? You wondered if that one coat you barely stopped yourself from getting in the beginning of winter was still available. Maybe those shoes to go with that…Now this was a good way to stop being apprehensive. There were so many upcoming events and you would need so many things. Wouldn’t you be going to many dinner parties and events from now on? Galas, charities, award ceremonies…Gerard, especially once back home, would have many places to attend. It was bad that Hitch and Mikasa weren’t with you for some level-headed outside advice, but you felt a little more convicted to pick some things on your own, as if to prove yourself wrong about your indecisiveness. You did have a nice wardrobe, but you doubted they could last you a while with all these things coming your way and the last thing you wanted was to wear the same thing again within the same month of entering a family of that caliber.

Unluckily, you first came across the most luxurious jewelry store in the mall. A picture of a set of wedding rings hung on the right side of the window panel, shiny and perfectly done, the faked emotion of the model couple foreign and unwelcome in the loneliness of the hallway. If you squinted, they almost looked like you and Gerard, under the fluorescent light. A perfect wedding shot.

Whenever Gerard asked you what type of ring you wanted, you found yourself out of sorts. You had some favorites, but you never decided on what would be the ideal ring before and you assumed you could once you tried them on. Not the mention, the size. Gerard waiting to buy it until you decided on what you wanted was a good sign alone, you thought, trying to chase away some of the oppressive feeling on your chest. It did not feel great going to the mansion without a proof of the commitment, but in the end this would be the route you would have picked as well, as long as you couldn’t squeeze in a quick run together to the jewelry store beforehand.

Unless the sole reason was that he wanted, or worse, needed his family’s approval first. You preferred to think otherwise.

“Looking for anything specific?”

The clerk had a bright smile on his face. You stared at him like you weren’t seeing anything for a second before you snapped out of it.

“Yup, getting married,” you smirked while the man joyously congratulated you, too energetic for an inhabitant of this mall. You felt like a liar.

After a little questionnaire, he first showed you the more classical models, then the ones most popular this season. You tried them all on diligently, looking at  your reflection in the mirror feeling none the closer to any decision making, with a thoughtful look carefully placed on your face. Maybe it would because you were too tense to focus, but none of them felt right. Maybe something about the way the metal was shaped. It was ironic since this was your favorite brand you had always dreamt of splurging on.

“How about this one?”

It was a five-carat, emerald cut with platinum band, seemingly perfect. The ring felt heavy on your hand, like it would drop on its own, despite the fact that it wasn’t even the biggest diamond there. Unnatural, something borrowed. You wanted something glamorous, but a lot of it felt gaudy once you put them on, like a little girl-child trying on her aged mother’s costume jewelry.

“How do you even function with a stone this big?” You pointed smoothly at the giant stone next to the ring he had just given you to try. The man smiled genuinely at how the current one looked on your small hands.

“Some of our costumers with such rings get smaller substitutes for safety or ease in daily usage,” he proposed.

A second fake ring, you thought. It made it all seem apt, comical and fitting, moreso than a huge diamond your hand couldn’t carry well despite being coveted in some way. Maybe you could get the giant rock you wanted just to show off, but another more pleasing one you secretly liked more and could use better. You smiled at your own thoughts, wondering what Gerard would say about that. Maybe he would get you something more special than anything here, and a second one, though not much of an imitation. You could definitely make good use of that one for when you went out with your friends or to university.

You thanked the man and left the store, feeling a little better after getting that out of the way despite being none the closer to forming an decision, taking a last look at the window. It wouldn’t be too awful to be on the cover of a magazine like that. If only the family were not obviously avoidant of that type of spotlight.
 

You roamed a little, humming a tune to cover up for the lack of music. Your phone lied uselessly in your pocket as you went to get lingerie just to get something. That was easy. The store you had in mind was close by already, saving you from the trouble of running around. You quickly purchased few pieces mostly in pink, thinking they would be perfect for honeymoon. Or for wedding night? Or just for any day, you thought with a little smirk, you really didn’t need to save anything for a special occasion anymore. From the next store, you got a few little dresses, thinking they’d be perfect to saunter around in the mansion, and few pretty heels you thought that went with them. All of that seemed to take less time than you spent with rings and it felt nice to finally have some bags with you. Next, you decided to go on the last dreaded mission: picking out the dress for the engagement party. It shouldn’t be that hard, you reasoned, since what you looking for wasn't an excessive and elaborate ballroom gown. You stopped by a brand you absolutely adored, eyeing the perfectly organized sections of clothing. Strangely, no one approached you as you walked inside - the place seemed completely empty. The store was much brighter than the hallway, with the music a little louder and the air more fragrant. Today, none of those things felt pleasant. You walked to the section where formal wear was located and started your search. Most things felt either too much, or too casual.

A golden embroidered corset, blood orange satin that swept the floor. Definition of too much, but awfully captivating. You put it back for the sake of something short, shiny, sleek in black - the ideal cocktail dress that suited your taste, exactly what you were looking for the event. An associate seemed to materialize next to you with a wide smile, muttering a bashful welcome quickly, like she expected no one to be around. She quickly led you to the dressing room and you obliged, watching yourself in all surfaces, perfectly polished, surrounding you from all sides, reflecting you in million different ways.

The black dress fit you perfectly. It was easy to pick a new purse and a pair of heels too, it was one of those dresses everything went with. You felt pleased that you successfully finished a task and would be free of much nagging and your own displeasure at yourself for procrastinating. It was finally time to leave.

Instead, you asked for the gown. The associate immediately understood which dress you meant and brought the exact right size, once again, that fit you like a glove. It was perfect.

“Do you have an occasion in mind?”

You were pulled back from the strangely captivating sight of yourself in the dress and shook your head with a smile.

“It’s just really beautiful.”

The woman smiled back knowingly. “Very good choice. The pattern itself is a phenomenon.”

You looked at the golden embroidery on the corset. It felt really familiar.

“The designer was inspired by historical findings,” the woman continued the well-prepared sell, fading into the background as you continued to look at yourself, mesmerized. “It was the main motif of our collection last year.”

If she was trying to convince you, she didn’t really have to. It was too beautiful not to get. This could be surpassing the limit, but you felt almost vindictive. You smiled at the woman with the affirmation. If Gerard had any issues, he would have to suck it up.

You wondered why he wanted to be independent so badly. How did one go from this sort of life to thinking about minute purchases and living in dorms? It was beyond comprehension. He certainly hadn’t been disowned or kicked out like you had considered once, and he wasn’t treated terribly either. It would even be a pleasant environment for him if you discounted the asshole brother who acted like he owned everything, but you supposed that was a rather generic problem no one would require such drastic measures for. Perhaps you could see it as admirable that he wanted to make a name for himself without too much reliance on his family, but you weren’t quite sure what the plan was. Wasn’t he supposed to return to the family company? And ironically, Levi Ackerman wanted to treat him just like another starter instead of an heir. You really couldn’t see the point in it, then.

You sighed. You were getting nowhere thinking about this. Grabbing the rest of your bags with the ones that held the dress and the accessories you had just purchased, you left the mall, feeling more tired than you had any right to be.

 
 
The night air that welcomed you was pleasant, fresh and clear with it having rained, a nice change after the stagnant environment of the mall. The street was empty still, even more deserted than it had been, despite it barely passing nine in the night. You had walked to the coffee shop, since the apartment building you all resided in were really close and that was why this place had become like a little sanctuary when you wanted a change of scenery. It was barely ten minutes away, but walking back with multiple bags was admittedly a little bothersome.

As you stepped outside from the entrance, a parked car to your left suddenly stuck out to you inexplicably. It was supposed to be empty, no lights, yet a silhouette of a man sitting in the black SUV looked too much like…

You shook your head. It was just a random car and you could barely even see anything. And why would he-

You really were getting paranoid. Maybe Hitch was right. You made a right turn on the street, not even sparing it another look.

Someone like that would not be anywhere without a driver anyway. You felt stupid.

The rain obviously had chased the few remaining people away and it felt like there was no other human being on the main street left. You started to walk angrily, a little hysterical, more about the fact that an anxiety still surrounded you, under the faint light coming from street lamps and abandoned feeling radiating from the little shops that shone with unnatural glow. You walked with a steady tempo, purposeful.

Not all you think are instincts are accurate, you reminded yourself for the millionth time since Saturday. Sometimes it’s just nerves. You tried to find any human being outside, just one sign of life to convince yourself nothing was wrong.

You noticed a car right behind you come to a stop.

You hadn’t realized it had been there. The street was uncharacteristically quiet, maybe due to you not wearing earbuds for once, you could hear every little noise around. There were occasional dripping sounds and the buzzing from the neon signs you were passing by, but no one seemed to be occupying any of the shops for they were advertising. Was it normal for everyone to close so early? You hadn’t been here at night for few weeks at least. Or was it few months? You walked faster. You had been too busy to notice things, though sometimes you could just be absent-minded. Was it summer hours already? More and more agitated, you quickened your steps as much as you could without running like a child.

You heard the car move right behind you again, like it had never truly stopped. You jolted and moved to the inner side of the sidewalk, expecting the car to pass by you and leave.

Too slow.

You forced yourself not to run. It felt like forever while you waited, breaths staggered. It wasn’t really possible that you were being followed, right?

You turned to see a black SUV, with headlights turned on.

Your heart gave a lurch in your chest. It looked like the same car. Without daring to check anything else, letting go off your desire to keep up your appearance, you started to run.

You had seen suspicious cars around, but not this way. Was it the one who had been stalking you for months? Or was it someone else? What did he even want?

A million questions ran through your mind while all the outside noises were drowned by your labored breathing. You ran faster, considering trying to get into any shops, wondering if you should try escaping through between the buildings - you had two more blocks left before you could turn and flee, maybe someone was there, barely outside your perimeter. There was no one here anywhere, nothing to stop him if he wanted to do something -

The car went louder and finally drove past you. This time it did not stop, going far with a perfectly average speed and turned to the opposite side you were going.

You did not slow down. Feeling faint with relief, using the last of your energy, you ran the rest of the way to your apartment and did not stop until you went inside the building.

Hands still shaking a little, you unlocked your door and turned on the lights. Nothing seemed to be out of order at first glance. You carefully side stepped the mat to inspect its position better, but it didn’t seem like it was moved from how you had placed it carefully on your way out. Exhaling with a smile, you went and checked all the rooms to see if anything was amiss. It all seemed to be in their proper places. You let out a relieved chuckle and went back to double-lock the door. Leaving the bags strewn to the floor, you threw yourself to your bed, not even bothering to change, limbs feeling like jelly.

People who knew your past would assume, if they knew at all, this was a habit you developed during your years of moving from one place to another. You had a good excuse. But in actuality, placing certain things in certain ways had been a habit you developed from early childhood. You did not like anyone in your private space, especially when you weren’t around, and to make sure no one invaded it in your absence you often would leave some objects in certain ways and you would memorize it, so that you could check if your boundaries had been violated. It was unnecessary back then, but later it would become much important. Thrown to places where nobody was on your side, this would save you. Now, when you were in this predicament you weren’t sure how much of it was your imagination, it was somewhere in between - paranoid and sensible. You supposed the time would tell. You made sure nobody noticed this routine and nobody would know. You could only stop when you moved here, to live alone, until you started to have suspicions again. Nobody had a spare key, not your landlord, not Gerard, not even Mikasa and Hitch.

You wanted to think this was just a culmination of years of stress finding an outlet, but you also knew better than to not keep your guard on. Doormats, door angles, soft blanket on the couch, some papers left on the nightstand, open carton of milk that just stayed there like a bait, something that would be convenient for poisoning if one had any intention. If it was too complex, you even took a picture. It was nice to come home to see it all the same, and you knew that’s when you could relax. The pattern had not been broken, outside a few instances where you felt a little unsure, but that was too much of a nothing for even you to worry about.
 

You pushed your shoes off your feet without even getting up and crawled under the sheets. You were completely drained and now in the safety of your little cocoon you wanted to lie motionless more than anything. You could enjoy the perfect bliss for about five minutes then remembered that your battery was dead. Begrudgingly you got up, pulled the device from your little purse and waited to set the alarm for tomorrow. Then you you saw the notifications.

Eleven unanswered calls.

All from Gerard, but no texts. Your heartbeat accelerated back up, the feeling of doom finding a momentary validation. You quickly called him back. This was unlike Gerard, he would never so persistently call unless something was up.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Where have you been?” The response was immediate.

“Was out with girls. What happened?”

“Why weren’t you answering?”

“Didn’t notice the phone died. What is going on?”

There was an odd pause followed by a sigh, all urgency lost.

“Nothing,” he replied. “Just got worried when I couldn’t reach you.”

“You called me eleven times for nothing?” Your voice went higher before you could stop yourself.

Another pause. “The timing,” he muttered like the words were being extracted from him with pliers.
Your eyebrows rose.

“The timing?”

“I got worried after yesterday.”

“I’m fine,” you rolled your eyes, trying not too much to keep the obvious offense from your voice. The mellow tone almost irritated you as much as the sentiment. Did he expect you to crash out over something like that? Wasn't it more of his problem? “It really isn’t a big deal. You don’t come off that fine though. Is everything really okay?”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” he said evenly.

“Not getting chewed out?” The smirk was audible in your tone as you got up to prepare for bed, a little pleased to turn it around on him.

“No, not at all,” he said as if what you said was completely unexpected. “Sorry, have to go. I’ll call you back later.” Gerard abruptly stopped and ended the call right after you could barely squeeze in a little affirmative.

You frowned at the screen, as if his name could transmit the necessary information right into your brain. That was odd. Maybe leaving him back there alone had been a terrible idea. Maybe you should have stayed despite all your instincts screaming at you to leave.

Maybe the phone lines really were being listened to, it suddenly occurred to you. That control freak brother. It seemed like the exact type of thing this type of family would do. Security, they would call it. More like unacceptable breach of privacy of anyone that comes close to them. Would your calls get monitored there? Internet activity? Maybe it was time to invest in something untraceable before you moved in, you didn’t want all your private data visible to them. If that was possible, at all.
This was certainly not good for your supposed paranoia.

You threw yourself back to the bed, hoping they didn’t have anything like that on you. Around you. Your mood went even worse, back to that feeling you got on the street, dark, alone, with the sound of little droplets falling from rooftops into the puddles on dirty streets. You spent the rest of the night in a faint haze and went to sleep relatively early, surrendering yourself to an uncomfortable slumber haunted by shadowy figures right at the edge of your perimeter. 

Chapter Text

When you woke up with a feeling oddly reminiscent of a hangover on monday morning, you realized you still had not shaken last night’s bad mood hanging like a dark cloud over you. There was a metallic taste in your mouth and your face felt swollen and dry. It was like you barely got any sleep, despite having slept much longer than your usual three to six hours nightly. You scrunched up your face when you remembered Gerard was going to visit before he went to the class, which was soon enough. You scrunched up your face even harder when you realized you still had yesterday's smeared make-up on. 

You got up, wishing you had the quarter of the energy you had yesterday. Your had all afternoon classes, mercy of a monday morning, but the topics were all particularly heavy and you were not up to it at all today. You went to the kitchen to lazily to prepare yourself a cup of coffee. After pouring your favorite black liquid into your favorite white china, you settled down on the sofa and started to scroll through your feed that you neglected all weekend. 

Expectedly busy. There had been quite a lot going on it seemed, but sometimes the looks were deceiving. You scrolled down your friends’ posts, then people you knew only tangentially, then came across the more explanatory one by Hanna, which would show you what really went down, and she apparently had been all over everywhere all weekend. In the most recent pictures she posted she was wearing something absurd, like a papier mache tube-top that looked like it was painted on by a child. You smiled at her posts, feeling both better and a little blue. This world had occupied so much of your free time up until so recently, now the feeling of estrangement made you feel depressed, like you were missing out on too much already.

Wanna come join? 

She had sent you a message rather late on friday night which you were only just now managing to see and she apparently continued throughout weekend. Few texts, some plan changes, few photos she took. She painted a nice the picture, the narration of how it went down complete and brief. You would have run there on any other weekend, you thought with a sigh. Hanna was not quite included in your closest circle, but it was a little bit of an unfair comparison anyway, since no one but Hitch and Mikasa could possibly be there, when all things considered. You hung out with her often, with Hitch and Mikasa also joining in a lot of times, and you always had a great time with her easygoing nature and a great circle of acquaintances. 

Oops, you typed. Is it over yet?

You snorted at the three dots immediately appearing. She had a terrible class early on monday she had no other time slot to throw it in instead, so she ended up either sleeping through it since she was always tired after the weekend either from random activities or parties or getting one-off odd jobs, or she was desperately trying to stay awake and failing.

where are you its been years :(

Sorry, you thought and did not send. Too busy getting engaged and acting neurotic about it. 

And now I’m being moody thinking I’m missing out on my life. Hanna probably had seen Gerard five times in total in her life so far and hearing about your paranoid delusions about stalkers or cars chasing you or neurotic worries about life changes were both far outside her scope. You knew you were being silly worrying about missing out on parties when attempting something so big with your life at the very least. A regular outing was nothing in comparison to the ones you would be attending very soon, all very public, glamorous, perfect. You wanted to shake yourself for feeling that little bit of regret.

You took one look at the time again, wondering if he wouldn’t come.

No chance.

You would be angry if he didn’t come, so there was not much winning you on that department right now anyway. Seeing him again would likely help you get rid of some of the unrest you felt at least, after his attitude on the phone and last night’s little episode, and the estrangement you felt after he stayed back. 

almost made it, you joked. only a day late to a three day fest?

next time! 

You smiled at her reply, despite missing out on a lot, talking to her alone made you feel better. Normal.

There was the expected knock, without making you wait for too long. You jolted a little, put down your cup and went to let in your fiancé who looked particularly nervous standing at your front door.

“Hey.” He gave you a shaky smile, without making too much of a move, like he expected you to be too angry to even kiss him.

“Hey yourself.” Despite your irritation, you pulled him into a kiss, inviting him inside. “How much time do you have?”

“Not a lot. Class in twenty.”

“Just arrived?”

“Fifteen minutes ago.”

“Ah,” you replied as if what he said was extraordinarily captivating as you walked to your bedroom to get ready. You had an hour left, which you barely registered. He hovered awkwardly around the bedroom door.

Nope, nope, nope. You skipped clothes after clothes, trying to focus to make a decision while his looming presence distracted you. He obviously wanted to say something and was trying to pull up enough courage, but you wanted him to sweat a little. You dressed up quickly after finding an easy dress, glad that you had fixed your hair earlier. There was only make up and preparing the bag left.

“You look gorgeous,” he said, sounding a little breathless. You smiled automatically at the expected admiration and waited for him to continue as you did your make up. He came closer, sheepish.

“Sorry about yesterday.”

“For?”

“I was rude,” he exhaled.

And strange, you wanted to add.

“Guess you could say that.”

“Not gonna cut me some slack?”

“Nuh-uh,” you said. Maybe if you mentioned that you were sorry you stayed behind too, you thought. “It was weird. Did something happen that put you off?”

He let go and sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

“Same old. Expected things. It’s…not easy to be back in it, I guess. There are certain expectations.”

You realized upon another inspection, he looked like he hadn’t gotten any sleep at all. You wondered how much of it was really about you and how much of it was just personal. There obviously were a lot going on between them without you adding up to it, but it was also possible that your unsavory past was brought up, revealed in in the most unpleasant way possible, even some things that you had trusted that would remain buried could be within their reach. 

The sneaking thought made your freeze, in the middle of the warmth of your bedroom. 

“Expectations or orders to break it off?”

He seemed surprised, as if he didn’t expect you to say it so directly. You maybe would not have, if you hadn’t felt the need to see his reaction due to your own fear that just reared its head.

“Yeah. No. A little bit of everything I guess.”

Vague. Good. You gave a genuine smile with relief.

“I get it. You really do have an intense family.” That was one way to put it. “Wouldn’t have expected that.”

That pulled a strange reaction. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You stopped while putting on a little blush on your nose, eyed him in surprise.

“I mean, they’re very,” you struggled to illustrate what you meant, something unpleasant that would make it clear you disliked them and that it was mutual without it being too direct or rude. “Overbearing?”

No, that definitely wasn't what you wanted to say. You wanted to say creepy.

But Gerard scowled harder, strangely. You weren’t even sure if you had seen that expression on him before. It didn’t look anything like his brother’s permanent one etched onto his face like he was born to be displeased with everything, but it felt like the face of a stranger.

It was becoming a too common experience these days.

“And I’m what?”

You carefully put down your makeup, slowly assessing what to say next.

“Easygoing and understanding, I suppose. What’s wrong with you today? You’re being really weird.”

He froze a little, then shook himself. “I know. Sorry. Can we just talk about something other than my family?”

You said nothing, just humming thoughtfully. There was a lot to talk about, but not on those terms. You remembered what Kuchel said - children. Postponing the wedding, for the sake of your education. Then, rings. His plans about work, his stature in the company. The prenup. The dress - dresses. Keeping the apartment.

Feeling suffocated, you let out a controlled exhale and closed your eyes for a second. There was no band-aid to pull. There was no need for you to bring up children. You’d worry about it when you had to. Until then, you trusted your birth-control like a god. Talking about most of these issues would be sabotaging yourself, rather than facing your problems. You already had been through the decision with postponing the wedding and you had no reason to bring up the prenup. And you knew better than talking specifics about his future work.

Nepotism has no place in my company. Levi Ackerman’s cold voice echoed in your head. You knew that kind of topic could only be talked about if Gerard brought it up, unless you wanted to really bother your fiancé.

What you actually wanted to talk about was the apartment, but it still felt too early. You thought it best for it to be on the last possible moment like a silly afterthought so it would go smoothly, without anyone being able to give it much attention, despite the fact not settling it pressured you greatly. Nobody would even notice if you moved out or not - what was a few thousand a month for such a family?

You could talk about the things you got yesterday. Inconsequential. Or what you did not get. Much important.

You most definitely had to talk about the rings now. He did not say anything which already bothered you a little, and it was both urgent and not a topic to be threaded carefully on.

“So, when are we getting the,” you pointed at your finger.

Gerard looked deeply awkward for a second. “About that,” he cleared his throat, looking as bashful as humanly possible while you suppressed your internal mortification at stepping on yet another landmine. “My family has a tradition,” he continued a little clinically, like the speech was memorized. “The wedding rings are always specially made. Mine as well, naturally,” he added quickly. “And we don’t get to wear them until the wedding ceremony is completed.”

You stared at him, openly baffled.

“You mean I’m gonna have to go without a ring? That’s…” Weird. Offensive.

Not inspiring a lot of confidence.

Was he breaking up with you in a creative, roundabout way?

“I know it’s a lot to ask. It’s been like this for centuries, so please don’t misunderstand,” he begged. 

“Well,” you started a little bitterly. “I guess I won't be able to help other men thinking I’m single when I’m out.”

He fidgeted a little. “We can get you a replacement ring, if you want, in the meantime…”

“What’s the difference?”

“It won’t be made by our family jewelry-maker.”

You blinked, finding it utterly ridiculous.

Family jewelry maker?

“Alright?” You burst out laughing. “Unless my replacement ring is gonna be made out of tin, I don’t see the issue.”

Your own special fake ring. Not topaz and silver like the usual replacements went to be safe, but a proper one, in place of an actual special ring. You hoped it was not going to be something weird looking and ancient and unfitting for today’s standards. You did not notice Kuchel wearing anything special and Levi was single, so you could get no preview. Your luck.

“It’s not like some weird looking chunky gold one with opaque stone that looks like it was worn by men in sixteenth century, right?” You looked at Gerard in fear.

He laughed at your expression. “No, nothing like that. It’s just gonna have special engravings. It can be in the style you want on the outside.”

You shook your head, finding his attitude about this ridiculous. As if you were going to complain about getting two rings. This was the last thing he should have been acting weird about.

“So, then,” you flirted, done with your makeup and turning to him fully. “When are we getting my fake ring?”

“Anytime you want.” He laughed. That was what you wanted to hear, corners of your mouth curling up, you sat down next to him on the bed, relaxed and happy.

“How about tomorrow?” 

“Sure thing,” he smirked, but his voice still had some strain. “There are few more things to be done before the wedding.” You turned quickly at the ominous wording. Pre-wedding Brazilian wax hopefully, your mind unhelpfully supplied.

“Such as?”

“My mother will fill you in about the details, no need to worry,” he quickly added, worrying you even more. “There are just few things that need to be done, some documents to go over.”

“Ah,” you said, remembering the needling about the prenup. “Got that part on saturday.”

“Not that one,” Gerard interjected. “Like an NDA. And some briefings.”

That made you nearly jump. “An NDA?”

He seemed embarrassed, but sweetly answered.

“To make sure the family secrets stay inside. And business ones.”

“I didn’t know I was gonna be privy to any,” you replied sarcastically, still in shock, getting up to spray on more perfume just to have an excuse to move away. “They didn’t seem as forthcoming as that would suggest.”

“It’s standard,” he said again in that pleading tone. “And all things considered, it could have been worse.”

You frowned at the sudden brushing over of the saturday. Didn’t he supposedly call you last night to make sure your delicate sensibilities weren’t harmed by his terrible family?

“Your mom needled me at first sight and your brother hates me,” you simply said, not hiding a slight shock, forgoing his strange act in favor of bringing up the event.

“He doesn’t hate you,” Gerard disagreed, almost out of reflex, surprising you again. “He’s just unsociable. And mother did accept you.”

Called me your fiancee once only to demote me back to the girlfriend two seconds later, you thought, but refrained from voicing it.

“Does he often refuse to shake hands with people he’s just met?”

He sighed with exasperation, as if the act of talking about his family was torturous.

“He doesn’t like anyone,” he said. “He tolerates people in his business and that’s the best you can expect.”

“He has no friends, no lovers?” You questioned impulsively. Was expecting basic decency from someone with whom you were going to be sharing a living space too much to ask?

He had a strange look pass his face, reminiscent of anger.

“Why do you ask?”

“I’m not asking. I’m making an argument. You’re trying to push his bad behavior under the rug.”

He came close to you, putting his hands on your face.

“I’m not. Really. Look,” he said. “He’s hard to deal with. For anyone. It’s just better if you ignore him.”

“Well, not like we’ll be living in the same place or anything…”

“He’s rarely even home,” he said calmly. “I just don’t want you upset because of him.”

You weren’t sure how that was going to be possible, but you just sighed and waved it away. The man seemed so intent on glaring daggers at you whenever he was in the vicinity, it was not much about what you did rather than coming across him, you presumed. It was certainly a large enough place to get lost in anyway, maybe you could spend months there without running across Levi Ackerman if what Gerard said about his working habits was accurate.

“Well, you know I don’t get upset easily anyway.” You pulled away from his grasp and gave yourself one last look in the mirror. He backed away a little uncomfortably.

“So, what else did you guys do yesterday?”

“Shopped a little,” you answered, pretending his change of topic wasn’t too lacking in smoothness. “Got a few dresses. Maybe even for the party,” you lifted your eyebrows at him suggestively, your voice slightly lowered. “And some other things. Wanna see?”

He seemed flustered. “Definitely, but I have to be in class in the next-“ he pulled up his phone and softly swore. “Yeah, gonna be marked absent.”

You grabbed your phone from where you left it in front of the mirror and your smile dropped.

-

You ended up a little late, more than usual, despite having prepared earlier than you normally did. You were destined for being late everywhere, it seemed. Putting your stuff on the left side of the auditorium, closer to the back, you pretended not to notice Ymir approaching you shamelessly in the middle of the lecture, your eyes remaining focused on the stage with a ghost of a repressed smirk.

“Hey, am I hearing it right?” She dropped her stuff next to you, her arm on your back, disturbing the students sitting right behind you. “Are you actually getting married?”

“Ymir,” you whispered turning to her dramatically. “Good morning to you too and happy interrogations.”

“Tight-lipped as fuck. How come you never mentioned how serious you were with that dude? I thought you were just hanging out with him.” Ymir was pushy and inquisitive in ways you did not always appreciate, especially not after that morning with Gerard.

“If you wanna interrogate me, at least bring some mocha,” you yawned. “This is just rude.” You only had one cup of coffee earlier, and you suspected all the energy it brought you was used in your meeting with Gerard, which you hadn't even processed yet. “And try not to ruin the last classes I’m joining.”

“Housewife mode much?”

You gave her a narrow-eyed stare. “Just gonna take the online classes, dummy.”

“That’s what they all say.”

You scowled, bothered by her casual insensitivity that directly underlined your very real fears. You were tight-lipped that was for certain, but even moreso when it came to her for this reason alone. She never held back and did not bother with anyone’s sensitive spots.

“How many billionaire wives did you even meet?”

“So that really is true,” she said, sounding a little impressed.

“Yup.” There was no point in lying. And possibility of Ymir finding a spot in your guest list to the wedding was rapidly decreasing.

The guest list.

Ugh.

Remembering that it was something you had to do made your mood drop even more. You had no family left, and you had two close friends, one of whom was not even going to be able to bring a plus one as he was in jail, of all things. There certainly were others, more distant friends you would invite, but it felt a little out of place almost, improper, making you feel even lonelier and more on edge. Would that be too rude if they were there for the engagement party yet not invited to the wedding? Would that look worse if you brought too few people to the wedding, excluding majority? What would Gerard’s family think if your acquaintances came to the wedding and acted in ways that you were not all that fond of? You imagined a sneer on Levi Ackerman’s face, getting nauseated about the idea. You imagined what he would think if you brought only a few, letting yourself fully surrounded by strangers instead.

“Well, spare me a good spot in the guest house then.”

“Pray to stars to even step a foot inside,” you smirked which pulled a rare whine from Ymir.

“So damn mean,” she scowled childishly.

“Quiet,” the professor finally addressed her, hearing the high pitched whine, making you snicker more. You really could use a mocha right now, you thought, as Ymir went silent and well-behaved right next to you.

-

“Hi.”

The room you entered was on the smaller side. It had two single beds facing one another with two young girls around the same age as you were seated on each. They stopped talking in that quiet tone when you entered and looked up - worried, sympathetic.

Genuine.

You felt a burst of familiarity.

Safe. 

You had felt it first, when the woman gently ushered you into the old but well-kept, two-story house at the farthest skirts of the neighboring town of the big city you used to live in, homely and warm. Appearances did not deceive you.

They would not betray your hard given trust.

You walked a little closer, and they got up, slow, seeming a little shy.

“I’m Hitch,” the strawberry blonde reached out first.

“Mikasa,” the other girl with jet-black hair quietly added, shyly burying her face into her scarf.

You gave them your name, your voice steady, not showing at all what you had been through, but you knew they had an idea about it. You also had a good idea that they both had gone through similar things, regardless of how limited it was described to you at the time, that they were people who understood you deeply.

-

You sat down, alone in the evening. It had been a long day, but finally you could relax. You had classes till five, and you went to get some snacks on the way home to spoil yourself a little before you could process the morning, preferably with Hitch and Mikasa. You just wanted some time to enjoy your solitude, especially since you would have to move to live with many others very soon. After all, you were the one who chose to live alone, while they two remained together. 

When you laid down in your little apartment, it felt like a regular day with nothing changed. 

did you finish everything for tomorrow 10? 

You smiled at Hanna’s frantic message. 

which part do you need?

There was a long wait with dots and that made your smile grew. You put the phone down while you settled back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. For a moment, you had nothing to do, nothing to worry about. 

You had too much to do. But didn't have to be just yet. You ignored the buzz of the phone for a second, giving yourself a little more time. A little later, you’d find the needed page for your friend, then go downstairs to talk about Gerard’s morning session with your two best friends. Right now, you slowly drank the rest of your coffee in calm, in the place you felt safe, within the close reach of two people you trusted the most in your life. 

-

Gerard stood on the left side of the estate facing the mansion, from the corner of the woods. The rain had just started. He looked at the windows, a tight squeeze around his heart, the alight rooms seeming to blink at him, judgmental, foreign. There was always a pattern to it, a reason, something he could not figure out and was not deserving to be in the know of. He waited and and waited, all for nothing, just like he always had. He had been waiting for a long time. His hands were shaking, despite nobody being around to see him stand. The open pool on the backside must be getting filled by little droplets. Drip, drip. The marble statues were alone - was there anyone behind him in the grove, working? The dinner was being prepared, surely, as delicious as ever. A menu that was on the same caliber as yesterday. Every day. Why was he here? The stone maze was to his right, so close, yet so far like something he could not ever reach.