Cyan P.O.V.

"Stupid, idiotic, bootlicking, son of a bitch, asshole!" I bellow. Thanks to that rude and unnecessary visit, my lab wreaks of the stench of smoke. Again. Suppose I could have used a different spell, but he walked up on me! It was the spur of the moment. Now Draven's--

"What happened now?"

Elminore be damned.

I pivot to find Draven walking slowly among the chaos. He dramatically waves his hand to disperse the smoke. He keeps that hand over his mouth and nose so his voice comes out muffled, "Can't you refrain from blowing yourself up for a few days?"

"I didn't blow anything up, you fucking nugget."

Draven raises a brow while mumbling under his breath, "What kind of insult is that?"

I don't know either. When he's around my brain takes a vacation to Shitsville. Don't know why. It can't smell much better there than the lab.

"That walking disappointment snuck into my lab and I might have, um, threw a fireball... or two or three... at him," I mumble and prepare myself for a possible tongue lashing. Or, wait, um, lecturing, I mean.

Draven drops his hand, revealing a glimpse of anger through his tightened fists. He heaves a long breath through his nose, probably regretting it instantly because of the smoke. Then he swiftly approaches me, almost sending me toppling over one of my benches. I grasp the edge to keep myself up right in time for Draven to lean over me and growl, "What did we say about harming him? He's a member of the church, our enemy that wants any excuse to wipe us off the map. Don't give him a reason to."

"He's fine, in fact, he did more damage to me," I huff while scurrying away from him.

Draven suddenly grasps my arm to spin me back to him. His angered expression causes a few heart palpitations that I'll have to get checked out.

"What do you mean by that? What did he do?" Draven asks. I don't know if I want to believe I hear honest concern in his voice or not.

"Did he hurt you?" Draven's grip tightens. My body shivers in fearful anticipation.

I'm not accustomed to this much contact, even over my plethora of layers and years of trying to get past the incessant need to claw out of my own skin from a mere touch. One graze of a finger or even the bump of a shoulder and it's as if spiders crawled beneath my skin. I itch and itch to no avail. It also doesn't help that Draven's the one touching me. He's always this weird combination of desperation to run and pull him closer. My brain can't process this much information without the threat of spontaneous combustion, which frankly is a risk for me regardless of Draven's proximity.

"Let go," I order far too breathlessly for my liking.

He does so immediately while wearing that apologetic frown.

I itch at the area he just touched. Once, I'd tear through the skin. I'm much better now, although I have moments where the urge is worse.

"I'm fine," I say. "He defended, that's all, and pretty well I might add. Got me caught up in a spell, but he let me go once we started talking."

Draven nods slowly. "What did he say to you?"

"Asked a few questions about why I left the church. He thought I was ensnared by the vicious Lord Seymour," I reply while continuing to clean up the mess. Draven follows, picking up a few singed papers to stack on a table.

"He has it bad y'know," I glance back at Draven, who tilts his head curiously. I hate it because it makes him look cute. He already has too much power with that handsome face of his. Adding cute to his over-stacked arsenal should be against the rules.

"Hmm?" Draven hums.

"Seren, he's, like, really taken by the church even if they, uh..." I scratch the back of my neck. "I'm saying I feel bad for him, in a way. That could have been me. It was almost me."

"Are you saying you want to help him escape too?" Draven asks.

"What? No." I scoff even if Draven's expression states that he sees through my... lie? Is it a lie? I don't fucking know. And I ain't in the mood for any self discovery, deep thought shit, so I shrug it off. "I don't owe him shit, especially when I know every word we say to him is being sent back to the church to be picked through with a fine-tooth comb. So who cares? He'll be gone soon anyway and his life isn't our problem. Let him waste away at the church. I don't care."

Draven nods. He walks over to a sink to fill a bucket and get some rags. I kind of wish he'd leave the mess to me because a.) we wouldn't be alone b.) I can finally stop thinking about The Unspeakable Incident c.) why does he make cleaning look hot and d.) he can stop making himself seem like the perfect butler who can do no wrong. It's irritating and it irritates me that it irritates me. Have I said irritated enough?

Draven reaches me and sets a rag on the table, allowing me to grab it.

"Where were you?" I ask, scrubbing some of the ash away.

Draven's doing the same when he replies, "Beg your pardon?"

I snort. "The other day, you disappeared for a bit. Where did you go?"

"I was out on business for His Grace."

"What kind of business? Did it have something to do with the case he and Seren are working on?"

"Yes."

"You're lying," I state, to which he raises his gaze, challenging me with his eyes to explain. "You left the night Seren arrived too and that had nothing to do with the case. What else are you up to? Can't I help?"

"It's nothing you need to concern yourself with."

My teeth grind.

"Why not?" I hiss and throw the rag into the bucket so it splashes Draven's fancy suit. He sighs, then watches me quietly when I shout, "How come every piece of His Grace's business is something I need to concern myself with? Am I that untrustworthy?"

"You know that is not the reason and--"

"Then what is it? Why is it always you? Why can't it ever be me?! I can help, whatever His Grace is up to, I can be a part of--"

"Cyan, stop," Draven says, his eyes stern and voice even firmer. He stands tall, placing his hands in front of him like the perfect butler he is. He never strays from his duties and it pisses me off. "We've all done work for His Grace before, on a number of separate occasions. He trusts you to do what you're best at and I do what I'm best at."

"Which is apparently more useful than me. He always goes to you first. You're always up to something while I'm sent on little spy missions for the precinct. I take down purse snatchers and the occasional gang member, nothing more. Most of the time, you're even tagging along and because of that we--" I stop myself, but not in time because the memories resurface. The two of us. A mission gone wrong. An argument. My klutzy nature. The moment that changed everything. At least for me. Draven doesn't care. It's a bad memory, nothing more.

"I've been by his side much longer than you," Draven speaks calmly, like he's talking to a child who needs coddling. I hate it. "I've been working by his side on cases for many years. The longer you're here, the more work he will give you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." I wave him off, then reach for my rag. I slap the rag on the table and scrub so hard my fingers painfully tingle. Feeling Draven's gaze on me makes me shiver more. I feel like an idiot for always reacting like this around him. We're either arguing or I'm stumbling over his every word, hoping for some type of reaction that he never gives. And even if he did, what would I do? Nothing. Because I can't.

"I can do this by myself," I say to him when I feel like he's about to speak. "You should go."

If Draven has an argument, he doesn't give it. Nodding, he sets his rag aside and says, "Don't stay up too late. I shouldn't have to drag you to breakfast every morning."

"Then stop dragging me to breakfast. It's not your job and I'm not a child."

Draven gazes quietly at me. Too quietly. The crickets are too damn loud, echoing in my now ringing ears.

"You're right. I'll stop then," he says and walks away.

It isn't until long after the doors shut and I know he's too far away to hear that I throw the water bucket against the wall because, apparently, I am absolutely a child. Specifically, a child in need of some anger management classes.

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

Early update because another behind the scenes author's note will post tomorrow, but idk at what time so I rather it come out after this chapter lol Enjoy the early update!

Cyan and Draven sure are tense though o.o And Cyan always has some weird insult to throw out lol What do you think about their relationship? What kind of jobs do these two go on for Lore?