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“What do you think?” Aventurine questioned, holding out two fabric swatches — a deep emerald and navy blue. His usual colors, dependable and classic, but there was a reason why he brought Stelle with him today aside from buying her whatever she wanted from Epirus Apparel, Cosmic Star, and whatever else. He needed a fresh pair of eyes to, let’s say, brighten up his color palette.
Of course, Stelle did not disappoint.
“You should try pink,” Stelle suggested, pointing at a beautiful rose-pink fabric from among the shelves. “Trust me, it’ll totally make your eyes pop.”
Oh, she was such a joy to be around.
Aventurine beamed. “Flattery will get you everywhere, babydoll.”
See? This is why he likes her, Ratio would never indulge him like this. Ratio, who thought it was funny to ignore him after his mission; Ratio, who thought ghosting him was the best course of action. That moronic, idiotic, wretched Ratio–
Aventurine took a deep breath, carefully keeping the smile firmly on his face as he watched Stelle flit across the shop, eyeing everything that caught her fancy.
The store they are in, Astralis Atelier, nestled within the Moment of Dusk, was the epitome of high-end fashion. Chic and luxurious, with most garments created by the best designers in the universe. And for those with deep enough pockets, custom orders were absolutely an option. Yes — Aventurine loved this place. He bought his latest watch here, a lovely golden piece designed by Hittori Kisara from the Stella Yamazaki star system.
Despite their rocky start of mutual suspicion and a tendency to use each other as a chess piece (or a bottomless wallet, in Stelle’s case), their acquaintances-of-convenience relationship had quickly evolved into a genuine friendship.
It was weird, Aventurine decided, at how quickly Stelle warmed up to him despite everything. She was eager to see him even after he had tried to “kill” her fellow Nameless. She had even brought the adorable Miss March along the first time he offered to take her shopping, and the scowl on the other girl’s face was rather amusing when she realized who exactly Stelle wanted to spend time with, and quickly made an excuse to go visit the Moment of Oasis.
Stelle was such a strange lady. Perhaps a side effect of the Stellaron?
He pushed that thought away since his conscience suddenly woke up after years of dormancy and told him it was rude to assume things, how dare you! Nobody can’t help being born the way they are. It’s just like you being lucky in every aspect of life except for keeping your family ali — Nope!
Previous point digressed, they were proper friends now, and Aventurine was still getting used to it.
As a businessman, Aventurine had the opportunity to meet with many individuals, both Ratio and non-Ratio alike. Way too many had tried to leech off him — whether it be his money, position, or his status. He let them, of course, but he had his contingency plans for when things went south. He knew all too well of the harsh reality he lives in.
Heck, Stelle wasn’t even an exception. Even though their dynamic obviously changed recently, Aventurine still insisted on buying her whatever she wanted — it was how he showed affection best. Stelle, in turn, had begun dragging him out to various restaurants every once in a while on her dime, and Aventurine recognized this as her way of balancing the scales, so that their friendship wasn’t too one-sided.
It was… nice.
Stelle was poking at some of the displays now, eyes alight in awe. Aventurine shook his head fondly and made his way towards her. He watched as she examined a beautiful coat not unlike what she was currently wearing.
Aventurine assessed its quality with a practiced eye. Durable aramid fiber for the outside, while the inner lining was a soft, breathable cotton. The black dye was probably sourced from either Hombert-σ, or one of the Xianzhou fleets.
He noticed the similarities of this coat with a certain Stellaron Hunter’s favored apparel, though he wisely kept that observation to himself. From what he’d read in Topaz’s reports from her previous mission in Jarilo-VI, it was clear that Kafka was a sore spot for little Miss Galactic Baseballer.
“Do you want it?” he asked, stepping closer.
Stelle glanced up at him with a gleam in her eye. Though, she did not give him a straightforward answer, “It’s so pretty...”
Aventurine laughed, throwing an arm around her shoulders. They were about the same height, so it wasn’t as awkward as when he did it to Ratio, who was about half a head taller than him. Ratio, who would sometimes snatch his trilby off his head and hold it high above when Aventurine was being particularly annoying; Ratio, who always kept a straight face when teasing him. Ratio, with his stupid note — Do stay alive. I wish you the best of luck.
Ugh.
He pushed the thought of his the dear doctor aside, despite the burning urge that itched in his fingers, making him want to text him again. Ratio still hadn’t replied, and every time Aventurine caught even the tiniest glimpse of that ridiculous alabaster head-wearing scholar, Ratio would simply up and walk away. Away. From him.
Whatever. Whatever. It’s not like their literal years of friendship mattered or anything. The least that stupid genius could do was give him some closure like,
Kakavasha,
I realized that your idiocy and tendency to throw yourself into danger without much thought and care for your own well-being was too much for me to handle.
This letter signifies the end of our friendship cooperation. May the odds be forever in your favor, dear gambler.
Sincerely,
Veritas Ratio
Or something like that! Anything from Ver– Ratio was welcomed at this point.
Hmph. That’s a problem for tomorrow’s Aventurine. For now, Stelle was here, and she deserved his full attention.
“It would look good on you,” he goaded. Stelle only gave a slight smirk, then shook her head no, though they both knew he was buying it for her anyway.
She moved on to admire a necklace from one of the display busts. “I thought,” she began, running her thumb along the chain of precious jewels, “we were here to get you a new suit?”
She released the necklace and extracted herself from his hold, eyeing him up and down.
“We are!” exclaimed Aventurine, booping her on the nose. She made a face and lightly swatted his hand away. “This is just a little detour, can’t I do something nice for a friend?”
“Not until we get you all dolled up,” Stelle argued. She pointed at some very pretty embroidery on a nearby garment and went to take a closer look. “How about that, but in gold?”
Aventurine followed her, intrigued.
“A pink dress shirt with a gold tie,” she muttered, contemplating. “And instead of just green or blue for the blazer and waistcoat, we’ll go with something in the middle, like teal. Then, we can add this gold trim to match the tie.”
Aventurine smiled, mentally taking notes. For someone who enjoys dumpster diving in her free time, she was surprisingly good with fashion.
“You have,” he purred, sidling up next to her, “a wonderful eye.”
“I owe my knowledge to Himeko,” she said, prim and proud, and Aventurine raised his eyebrows.
According to her file, Murata Himeko was an engineer, not a fashionista. Though, he supposed, engineering and fashion did share some common ground — both required precision, creativity, and an eye for detail.
His face twitched, a fleeting memory surfacing — even with his shields, the explosion from Miss Murata’s orbital cannon had hurt. The searing heat and the sheer force of the laser were not experiences he wished to relive, whether in dream or reality.
Aventurine quickly masked his discomfort with a charming smile, pushing the unpleasant memory aside.
“Interesting,” he hummed instead, voice smooth and composed. He considered probing her for more information about her fellow Express members, particularly that one gentleman with the cane, but decided to set that thought aside for later.
“Tell me more about your friends later, doll.” Aventurine smoothly changed the subject, linking their arms together as he dragged her along towards the seamsters.
“I like your suggestion, by the way. I’m definitely going with that,” Aventurine said, patting her cheek playfully as he waved at one of the seamsters. “I’ll get my measurements taken now, do you mind?”
Stelle nodded absentmindedly, taking out her phone and launching one of her gacha games. He doesn’t understand why she has yet to ask him to pull on her account; he could get her any five-star character she wanted. “I don’t mind.”
Aventurine stood still for his measurements, chattering amiably with the seamster about the specifics of his suit. Meanwhile, one of the seamstresses — a Pepeshi lady with pin curls — began sketching the outfit he described, humming and nodding along.
“Holy Xipe,” the seamster muttered as he wrapped the measuring tape around his waist. He blinked, as if to double check the outrageous number he was seeing. “Sixty-one centimeters?”
Aventurine stifled a snort, while Stelle side-eyed him from where she’d made herself comfortable on one of the leather cube chairs.
Honestly, his new friend could be so judgemental sometimes!
She was like Ratio, though the good doctor certainly admired this part of him instead…
(“Damned gambler,” Ratio grunted, lips warm and wet against the tattoo on said man’s neck, hands firm on either side of Aventurine’s slim waist. “You play a dangerous game.”
The clatter of Ratio’s wine glass hitting the floor echoed in the sudden silence that followed. The liquid spilled, and broken shards lay forgotten.
“Doctor,” Aventurine purred as he was pressed against the wall, deft fingers pulling on Ratio’s tie. “I’m just making sure our… collaboration goes smoothly, that’s all.”
Ratio lifted his head, eyes flickering with defiance. The revolver weighs heavily in Aventurine’s pocket.
“Minx,” the doctor breathed, his voice a low growl, a blend of fascination and frustration. “An absolute distraction. Unnecessary. Unintelligible.”
Aventurine’s lips curled into a knowing smile, his gaze unwavering. “Is that why you find me so irresistible? Because I’m a puzzle you want to figure out? Then by all means…”
Ratio’s grip tightened involuntarily, torn between the urge to push Aventurine away and pull him closer.
He hoped it left bruises.
Aventurine’s smile widened. He was a businessman, adept at pushing the right buttons to get what he wanted. And, well, looking at the esteemed Veritas Ratio right now — his crimson eyes dark, a death-like grip on his waist, his own hips pressed against his, delightfully well-endowed — oh how he wanted.
“You know,” he murmured, fingers tracing the line of Ratio’s jaw, teasing, testing. He could see the struggle in Ratio’s eyes, and tried very hard not to leer, “you can end this right now. Walk away, and I’ll let you go.”
For someone who prided himself as being a man of logic, Ratio’s response was immediate and primal — a heated mixture of lips, tongue, and teeth. Aventurine hardly complained, his own hands sliding around Ratio’s neck, pulling him even closer.)
Aventurine shoved the memory back into the box that his brain neatly labeled Veritas, firmly shutting the lid . He should really stop thinking about his… his co-worker now.
Which begged the question: would they still be co-workers after this? Would Ratio still be willing to work with him?
He forced himself back to the present, realizing the seamster was speaking to him. Aventurine blinked, trying to catch up.
“...in a couple hours?”
“Pardon?”
The seamster — Yves, according to his name tag — gave him a slightly exasperated smile. “I was saying that the prototype will be ready in a couple of hours. Is that acceptable?”
Aventurine was used to getting those smiles a lot.
“Of course, that will be fine.”
The Pepeshi seamstress — his eyes flicked to her name tag, Coco — showed him the sketch. It incorporated all of Stelle’s suggestions: a rose-pink dress shirt, a golden tie, and a teal waistcoat and blazer with matching gold trim along the sleeves. The dress pants matched the waistcoat and blazer’s teal hue, accented with a subtle gold embroidery circling one pant leg.
It was… bold. Not as extravagant as his current ensemble, but flashy enough to make an impression. Very much him.
Aventurine loved it.
“Perfect,” he breathed, a genuine smile on his face as he admired the design. “Absolutely perfect. It’s got just the right amount of dramatic flair for a formal event, haha!”
Coco’s eyes sparkled with pride at his approval. “I’m glad you like it, sir.” She turned back to her sketch, tapping her pencil thoughtfully. “Though, if you’re amenable to it, I was thinking of extending the back of the blazer a bit — give it a coattail for some extra, extra flair! Nothing gaudy, just an enhancement to match your usual style.”
She motioned to his overcoat, and Aventurine turned slightly to glance at the peacock design on its coattail.
Aventurine waved for her to go on. “I have no objections.”
No objections indeed.
Look. He knew he was supposed to be still pissy at Ratio for ignoring him, but at the same time, he was still just a man. A man with needs, if you catch his drift.
How many times had Ratio seen him wearing something vaguely peacock-esque and thought, His mating plumage is immaculate, I must bed him immediately?
The Mother Goddess knew he was always in for a night of fun whenever Ratio made the first move…
(“Let’s see how much I can shatter you, little peacock.”)
Aventurine shook off the memory, pinching the nerve between his thumb and index finger. Now wasn’t the time to get lost in such thoughts.
Coco’s voice brought him back to the present. “Great! I’ll add the coattail to the design.”
“A couple hours then,” Yves cuts in smoothly. “May I get your beacon address so we can contact you when it is done? Unless the lady also wants something made…”
He let the question hang in the air, eyes flicking towards an otherwise occupied Stelle.
Aventurine blinked. Oh. Oh. Right. In his attempts to distract himself from Ratio ghosting him, he had completely forgotten about the other thing he needed to tell Stelle.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of his less flashy, more low-key business cards, offering it to Yves. It was a simple card, bearing only his name and number, with an ace of spades on the back instead of the IPC logo.
Yves accepted it with a nod. “We’ll be in touch.”
Aventurine stepped towards Stelle, making her scoot over slightly to make room. With a fluid motion, he sat beside her, the leather creaking softly under their combined weight.
“I may have forgotten to tell you something…”
“Oh no.”
Aventurine resisted the urge to pinch her too. “Now, now. Is that how you treat your friends?”
“Yes, actually.”
Well, then—
“Don’t get tetchy with me, doll. As I was saying, we’re hosting an event as soon as Jade gets here,” Aventurine said lightly, keeping his tone casual. “Your presence is vouched for by Topaz and, of course, myself.”
He could practically see the gears turning within her brain as she paused her game, her character stuck in an awkward pose as the menu appeared.
“What’s the occasion?”
This time, Aventurine did snort.
“Just a little… work party, you know, a celebration for…” Aventurine elaborated carefully, subtly inclining his head towards the Penaconian natives. “Hopefully, I won’t get demoted.”
That was unlikely, since Diamond only cared about the results. He didn’t fail in Penacony like Topaz did back in Jarilo-VI. Still, having a bit of hope won’t hurt anyone, especially for a gambler like him.
Understanding flashed in her eyes, and she nodded. “Got it. Can I bring a plus one?”
Aventurine chuckled. “Bring anyone you want.”
He already had an inkling on who she might bring, and he’d have to give the others a heads up and suggest adding oak cake rolls to the menu.
Stelle sighed as she pocketed her phone. “That probably means I need to buy a new dress too, huh?” She made a face. “March has been telling me to wear something other than black… She says Dan Heng is edgy enough for all of us. Ugh. I’ll just look for something later, then I’ll have it tailored.”
“Not going for something custom-made?” Aventurine raised an eyebrow.
“Nope.” Stelle leaned against him, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. “Look, I’m lazy. Making other people look pretty? Easy. Can do it with my eyes closed. For myself? Nah, too much effort.”
Aventurine patted her cheek. “Well, if you ever change your mind, just text me.”
“I know, Aventurine.”
“Good.” Satisfied, Aventurine stood and offered his hand to Stelle, who took it with a small smile. He turned back to Yves and Coco, who were busy hauling in some fabric rolls, and gave them a final nod.
He pulled her gently towards the exit, slipping on his rose-tinted glasses to hide his tell-tale eyes. “Let’s go gambling.”
Stelle frowned. “What—?”
A gacha player hesitant to gamble in real life? Oh, that is so cute.
“Did you know that 99% of gamblers quit before hitting the jackpot?” Aventurine informed her cheerfully.
“That makes no sense,” she protested, yet she still allowed him to lead her anyway. Cute. “If I lose all my credits, you’re paying me back. I don’t want to face Mister Yang’s disappointment.”
“Don’t worry,” Aventurine crooned, steering them towards the transportation hub. “I’ll teach you. Think of it as an investment in your education.”
Ratio would be so proud of him for caring about the academics of one of his students. Maybe… Ugh, why was he still thinking about him?
“You’re horrible. You hear me? Horrible.”
Aventurine laughs.
The Moment of Stars was probably Aventurine’s favorite place in Penacony.
(The other was the VIP room he shared with Ratio.)
(Although it was slowly becoming his least favorite, with how much Ratio insisted on staying in Reality instead of joining him within the Dreamscape.)
It was a gambler’s paradise, with clubs and casinos lining the streets, cash-spewers, slot machines, and Soulglad fountains galore. It was bright everywhere you look. Neon signs flashed brilliantly, lasers flickered from the nightclubs, and Miss Robin’s music thrumming from the speakers.
Aventurine immediately felt at ease. Like recognizes like, after all. Stelle, meanwhile, looked around with hesitance and mild intrigue.
She was like a lost puppy… or racoon, in this case, all cute and curious and slightly out of place. Her color scheme even matched, except — his eyes slid down momentarily, respectfully, mind you — for that pop of blue from her thigh garter.
Hm.
“Let’s try this one,” Aventurine suggested, leading her to one of the smaller casinos. Despite its more modest size, it was no less opulent and grandiose as its larger counterparts. “They’re less likely to eat you alive for being a newbie.”
Stelle huffed in protest. “Just because I was created last year doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless, you know.”
What. Aventurine decided not to open that can of worms for now. Didn’t Ratio also mention that at some point?
Stop thinking about Ratio!
“Of course not,” he instead placated, rubbing her thumb soothingly. “But it doesn’t hurt to start somewhere a bit more... forgiving.”
“I guess,” she sighed, allowing herself to be guided further into the establishment.
The interior was a bit of an eyesore, if Aventurine had to admit. Dim lighting in a garish mix of red, blue, and the occasional yellow — ugh. No matter, he brought headache medication with him.
Slot machines lined the walls, their lights flashing intermittently, while semi-circular poker tables were arranged in parallel lines down the center of the room.
Aventurine searched the room, taking in the scene. Thankfully, it wasn’t too crowded, lest they have to settle for walking around in the amusement park.
He tended to avoid those now.
Light chatter filled his ears, the faint hum of jazz buzzing through the speakers. They make for a decent white noise.
The rich aroma of whiskey and other spirits filled the air. Aventurine thought for a moment; can Stelle even drink?
Hm… He kept searching for something — perfect!
There was a bar at the far end of the room. Near it, an empty table beckoned them invitingly. He led Stelle through the crowd, gripping her hand tightly to make sure she won’t run off chirping to some invisible being again.
As they reached the table, Aventurine pulled out a chair for Stelle. He might be a businessman, but he’s not a complete asshole. “Here we are. I hope you’re not epileptic…?”
Stelle shook her head before looking around, probably looking for more Boss Stone balloons she could pop or ice cream she could snatch from mid-air.
She was so interesting, and really pretty, with her choppy gray hair and mischievous golden eyes. Was this how Ratio felt when they first met at that gala?
Aventurine couldn’t help but wonder, with Ratio no longer around to satisfy and indulge some of his whims, would she be interested in…? Just for the night?
He quickly banished that thought. Nevermind. His gray-haired friend seemed to be quite taken with that Stellaron Hunter anyway.
Ugh. He felt so lonely.
Sliding into the seat across from her, Aventurine signaled a nearby server, then pulled out his sleek black and gold deck of cards. “Do you trailblazers play cards?”
Stelle turned those sharp eyes towards him, watching as Aventurine shuffled the cards with practiced ease.
“Uh, I think the others do. I just play Uno online with Silver Wolf.”
…Very interesting indeed.
Do you frequently spend time with the IPC’s most wanted criminals? Aventurine bit back that comment. Instead, he continued shuffling the cards.
“Let’s start with something simple,” said Aventurine, dealing the cards. “Do you know how to play Old Maid?”
Stelle blinked as she took her cards. “Yeah. An otome game taught me that. You just need to make sure you match the cards, and avoid the ‘old maid’, right?”
Again, Aventurine chose not to comment on that. “That’s right. Perfect. We’ll keep it straightforward. Just three pairs. Whoever loses buys the other a drink.” When she nodded, he pressed on, “And just to be clear, do you drink alcohol?”
“I swore off alcohol after the incident on March’s birthday,” Stelle told him bluntly. “Mister Yang had to knock me out because I thought those creepy bugs were invading the Express again.”
He, like the two previous times, decided not to comment.
Aventurine huffed a laugh, setting the deck of cards aside and arranging the ones on his hand. “You are so… strange.”
“Maybe. But it keeps things interesting, no?”
Aventurine naturally agreed with that. He himself was far from normal after all. He nodded to the mortified-looking server, who apologized for the delay and muttered something about the ice machine malfunctioning.
Ah, customer service. Aventurine would be lying if he said he couldn’t relate.
He ordered something simple, something sweet, non-alcoholic for both of them. He was not in the mood to get drunk either.
Taking a sip of his mocktail, Aventurine hid a smirk behind his cards. Stelle had a terrible poker face…
Should be easy enough. Right?
Aventurine sputtered as Stelle threw her head back in laughter. They were several drinks in now, and while Stelle managed to hold her own well enough, Aventurine still maintained a natural advantage over her.
She kept stealing his cards though. He noticed that at some point, the amount of cards from the deck he had set aside had dwindled. This woman…
“Stelle,” Aventurine tried to sound stern, but alas, he doesn’t have a resting bitch voice like Ratio does. “Give me my cards back.”
They were playing Old Maid, for the Mother Goddess’ sake. What did she need all those cards for?
Stelle swirled the contents of her glass, smirking at him playfully. All the drinks they ordered were super sweet and fruity mocktails, and she was definitely riding sugar high. “Give me a reason why I should?”
“Now, now, friend—”
“You.”
Stelle’s eye twitched, and Aventurine frowned at the interruption. They were having such a great time, couldn’t the Aeons at least allow him this?
He searched for the culprit, eyes landing on this… man. Wow.
And people call him meretricious. People just don’t know what they’re talking about, they don’t get him like Stelle does. Whereas Aventurine was classy — he even understood color theory! — this man was straight up trashy.
…Maybe Topaz was right. He really was a hater.
Stelle followed Aventurine’s gaze and scoffed, though there was a hint of amusement in her gently mocking eyes. “You need anything?”
The man fumed.
“Did you really think—” He paused almost dramatically, pointing a finger towards Stelle. It would have been comical if Aventurine didn’t feel so offended on her behalf. “Did you really think you could get away with cheating, you brutish, recalcitrant, charlatan?”
Stelle opened her mouth to argue, but Aventurine placed his hand on her own, squeezing lightly.
She glanced at him, and the gambler subtly raised an eyebrow. What’s this irrelevant guy’s name?
Stelle got the memo. “Garcia,” she whispered.
“Mister Garcia,” began Aventurine, crossing his arms and leaning back on his chair, “do you really think it's appropriate to accuse someone without proof?”
Garcia turned to glare at him. “And who might you be, effeminate fellow? Did she hire you to defend her honor or to just be a pitiful popinjay she could show off?”
Aventurine smiled thinly, staring almost haughtily at Garcia through tinted lenses. He wasn’t fazed by the insult; he’s certainly been called worse things when he was younger.
“Careful with your words there, Mister Garcia…” Aventurine wasn’t going to pull the ‘I-am-a-senior-manager-for-the-IPC-therefore-I-can-and-will-ruin-all-living-generations-of-your-family’ card just yet. “I don’t take kindly to people insulting my friends.”
Garcia scoffed, smoothing down his garish magenta coat. “Your friend is nothing but a churlish dilettante. She and her little girlfriend! I could have met the marvelous Miss Robin, but alas, they robbed me of my opportunity!”
“Perhaps if your manners matched your attire,” Aventurine’s lips curled to a smirk, “Miss Robin would find you worthy of her presence.”
Garcia bristled, his face flushing slightly. “You dare mock my taste? A man who dresses like a peacock?”
He knew he just had to fuck with this Garcia a little more. He couldn’t help it, it was too fun.
Aventurine raised an eyebrow, unflinching. “At least a peacock knows how to strut with dignity. You, on the other hand, parade around like a jester in mourning.”
Stelle choked on her drink as she held back her laughter. It was then that Aventurine noticed the crowd that had gathered around the commotion.
Alright. Fun is over.
Aventurine knew he had to diffuse this argument somehow before security kicked them or Garcia or both out.
But before he could say something, apparently it seems like Stelle had other ideas.
“Listen, G.” Stelle set her latest drink aside to her growing pile of empty glasses. “Firefly and I did not cheat. You lost fair and square. As a gaming partner of mine would say: skill issue!”
Someone from within the crowd snorted, a few people ooh’ed.
Aventurine wanted to facepalm, but he didn’t — it would ruin his hair and smudge his glasses. Sure, he was vain, whatever.
By the Goddess, Stelle…
The tension was so heavy, it was suffocating. No matter, Aventurine was used to these kinds of situations. He pocketed his cards as he stood, ready to mitigate the other man’s verbal blows to his friend, when Stelle squinted slightly at Garcia, her gaze intensifying for a brief moment.
Then the strangest thing happened, Garcia’s furious expression softened, his clenched fists relaxing slightly. He blinked, looking momentarily confused.
Aventurine certainly wasn’t going to question that now, though he filed that information away for future reference. He ought to update the file on Stelle when he gets back to Pier Point.
Sigh. Why must she be so pretty and interesting?
“Look, Mister Garcia,” Aventurine said, keeping his tone firm but measured, placating. If he guessed correctly, the man was talking about the Charmony Festival audition in Moment of Scorchsand. “If you have a problem, take it up with the event organizers, or Mister Leeda himself. But don’t waste our time with your baseless accusations.”
Aventurine kept his left hand within his pocket. He will throw cash at the other’s face if he has to.
Garcia opened his mouth to respond, but the fiery rage seemed to have dissipated. He glared at Stelle one last time before muttering some not-very-nice things under his breath and storming off, though with noticeably less fervor than before.
Stelle let out a small sigh of relief, and the crowd slowly dissipated, muttering and chuckling to themselves.
The Bloodhounds seemed disappointed that they didn’t get to kick anyone out though, but Aventurine could care less about them.
He turned to Stelle. “Mind telling me what that was?”
“Just a little trick I learned from an old friend.” She smiled mysteriously, handing back the cards she’d stolen during their game. “Thanks for having my back.”
“Worry not, my friend.” Aventurine reached down, ruffling her hair with a wink. It was the least he could do after coercing her to help with his plan, and attempting to kill her and her motley crew.
Maybe he was getting sentimental.
His phone suddenly pinged. Aha! Perfect timing. Aventurine didn’t need to look at it to know that it was from Astralis Atelier. His luck was just too good.
A welcomed distraction; he really didn’t want to think about… feelings. He would end up spiraling again, thinking about all the times the good doctor had lovingly rearranged his guts on a bi-weekly basis.
(“Hngh— y-you’ve really mastered this, doc. Hah—!”
He had even perfected the art of la petite mort. Aventurine felt like he was in heaven.
A larger, calloused hand pets his hair, the touch deceptively gentle. “Focus, dear gambler. I’m not done with you just yet…”)
“Shall we?” He offered her a hand, quickly stomping the memory away. Damn it.
Stelle took it, looking up at him with those curious golden eyes. “Where to now?”
Aventurine pulls her up, playfully brushing his lips along her knuckles, delighting in the faint blush that graced her cheeks.
“We’re going back to get my suit!”
Off to the Moment of Dusk they go!
Oh. Oh. He liked that. He liked that a lot.
Stelle was right, the pink did make his eyes pop. The teal was a beautiful shade, and the hint of golden embroidery really brought everything together.
It was perfect.
His new suit hugged everything. From the curve of his biceps, the subtle ripple of his back muscles, the delicious slimness of his waist, the tone of his thighs, and the—
Stelle blushed as he met her eyes through the mirror with a wink, averting her gaze from where she’d been visually devouring him previously.
Ah. So she did have some leftover shame after all.
Cute.
Unfortunately for him, shame had been beaten out of him at the tender age of fourteen. His previous masters were... more than pleased to see how much of a beautiful young man he was growing into.
And the memories that followed were, well... Aventurine never spoke to anyone about it. He wasn’t about to start now.
Aventurine made sure his expression didn’t sour as he tucked those memories away in some deep, forgotten corner of his mind.
“Do I pass inspection?” he teased, turning slightly to give her a better view.
She cleared her throat, trying to compose herself, though Aventurine noticed her politely keeping her eyes up. “You look... amazing. The suit looks perfect on you.”
Aventurine beamed. He looked perfect, he felt perfect. “It’s all thanks to you, my friend.”
With those words, he stepped away from the cheval mirror and poked Stelle on the cheek. “You know what? I should hire you as my personal designer. You’ll start at P-35, what do you think?”
Stelle snorted. “Tempting… but I’ll have to pass.”
Aventurine gave her the faintest possible little moue. Well, it was worth the try.
Just then, both Yves and Coco both approached them to admire their handiwork.
Yves gave a low whistle, his eyes scanning Aventurine from head to toe. The seamster coughed lightly, much to Stelle’s amusement.
Oh?
“It’s always a pleasure to see our work come to life,” Yves said, inclining his head. “You wear it exceptionally well, Mister Aventurine.”
Coco clapped her hands in delight, practically bouncing on her heels. “You look amazing. Absolutely divine!”
Aventurine would simply not be Aventurine if he didn’t revel in the praise.
“Thank you, truly.” Aventurine flashed them one of his signature megawatt smiles.
“It’s our pleasure,” Yves said, fiddling with his own cufflinks. And was that a blush he saw? “If you need any further alterations, just let us know.”
“I will, thank you.” Aventurine clasped his hands, already estimating the total cost of this wonderful creation. “Now, how much is everything?”
“I’ll get the invoice, hold on.” Coco hurried to the counter, her heels clicking against the floor.
While waiting, Aventurine simply couldn’t resist a small, harmless, mischievous urge. He pulled out his phone, and angled it just right.
With a sly smile, he held the tie between his teeth, ensuring the photo would show off how the new suit hugged his torso perfectly.
He snapped a photo, multiple photos actually, and he could vaguely hear Stelle snorting at his actions.
Aventurine is going to send it to Ratio because he’s petty, damn it, he wanted the doctor to see exactly what he was missing out on.
As he moved to change back into his usual clothing in the fitting room, Yves kindly bagged his new suit. Coco returned promptly with the invoice, and Aventurine settled the bill without hesitation.
Aventurine turned to Stelle, who was engrossed in the game on her phone. He peeked at the screen, is that Sprout Vale?
“Ready to go?” he then asked, poking her gently on the shoulder.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” she mumbled, not looking up. She is a traffic hazard, honestly.
With a final nod of thanks to the seamsters, Aventurine led Stelle out of the shop, his mind already wandering to the picture he had taken earlier.
…And perhaps a conversation that needed to happen with Ratio.