"How long do you think he's going to sulk?"
Vanessa's voice echoed in the living room of her apartment, and only then did Gabriel consent to lift his eyes to meet hers. She quirked an eyebrow, waiting for an answer, and he responded as honestly as he could, that is to say, with a shrug.
Misha's temper was as volatile as ever, and it was hard to tell when exactly his anger would recede. It could take a few minutes, or it could take days, if not weeks.
In today's case, Gabriel doubted it'd happen anytime soon. Misha's mother's words had touched a nerve while also hurting him deeply.
That much was easy to understand.
It had been hours since Misha had barged through the door of his friend's apartment, and hours since he'd dragged Gabriel to the couch, determined to use his thighs as a pillow while lying on his side on the couch, his face buried in his partner's stomach. He had wrapped his arms around Gabriel's waist, hugging him in a tight embrace.
Since then, Misha hadn't moved an inch, and he also hadn't allowed Gabriel to move an inch.
A resigned sigh escaped Vanessa.
"I'll be preparing the futon, I guess. I don't have a guest room, so you'll have to make do with sleeping in the living room today. I'll look into moving stuff in the office-slash-store room tomorrow, since he seems to be planning to stay in my home for a while."
"Thank you."
Waving her hand, Vanessa disappeared into her bedroom, and some curses soon followed as she battled with her closet to get the bedsheets and blankets out. Gabriel would have offered to help, hadn't it been for the hugging monster glued to him. Misha had no intention whatsoever of letting him go, and Gabriel had to make peace with the idea of sleeping over tonight.
Whether he went home today or tomorrow didn't matter; Angela was sure to raise hell in both cases, so he might as well enjoy some rest before facing the madwoman. He could already feel the proverbial headache. Now, she knew he had been lying to her for years. She was hysterical and tyrannical, but not dumb.
Hopefully, Jake hadn't taken the brunt of her ire. Well, Tristan was around to stand guard, so Gabriel wasn't too worried. His brothers knew how to handle themselves, more than Misha at least.
"...Do you think my mom hates me now?" Misha asked in a small voice, so small, in fact, that Gabriel barely heard him.
"She might not agree with your sexuality or your partner's gender, but I doubt she can ever hate you," Gabriel spoke reassuringly as he ran his fingers through Misha's soft, blond hair. "You know she adores her kids, both you and your sister. Just give her a bit of time to digest the news and come around."
Again, silence befell the living room, only interrupted by Vanessa's indistinct grunts. It seemed like she had hidden the bedsheets and blankets in the back of her closet and now had to get everything out to get her hands on them.
"Was I too harsh on her…?"
'Ah, the second-guessing has started,' Gabriel thought, unsure what to say, even though he had been expecting the question.
If it had been anyone other than his mother, Gabriel would have said no without hesitation—because who cared about unimportant people? Certainly not Misha. This little devil couldn't give a shit about other people's thoughts and feelings, after all.
To start with, Misha wouldn't be second-guessing himself if he had lashed out at someone other than his mother. He only had regrets now that he had calmed down because the person at whom he raised his voice was someone he adored, someone he thought he ought to protect.
Ultimately, the only ones who mattered were those who had wormed their way into his inner circle, and they weren't all that many who had managed to. To those few people, Misha was overly sensitive, and despite his bravado, easily hurt by their words.
Gabriel was well aware of that.
So, now, what?
"—No, I wasn't!" Misha shook his head before Gabriel could give him an answer. "She was being way too out of line! Gentle words can't reason with people who are so lost in their delusion they can't see they're in the wrong, right?! She had to hear what I truly thought of her stupid misconception to maybe start questioning it, otherwise…"
Misha took a pause to allow himself to breathe, as he had let the words flow out without taking breathers in between.
"Otherwise, she will keep saying Masha is sick and needs therapy. Accesorily, so do I."
With that said, Misha craned his neck to look at Gabriel's face, a myriad of emotions twirling in the depths of his blue eyes. The uncertainty in them was glaring, as was the pain. He had held on well in front of his sister, but now that she was out of sight, left at Yuki's apartment, he couldn't help but show his vulnerability to his partner.
Without shame, without falsehood.
It hurt to see him like this.
"I'm sure Alexey will also talk to her about it. If not, we can try discussing it again with your mother another day, when you feel calmer and ready to hear what she has to say. Don't worry, I'll accompany you."
"Gaby, you know me as well as I do. I don't think I'll be any calmer if she accuses Masha of being sick again, no matter how much time I take to prepare myself…"
Right, he'd most likely end up giving her a piece of his mind before storming out again.
"If it were just me, I could bear it. But it involves my sister, too. I don't think I'll be able to take this kind of bullshit many more times before breaking. It's just too painful to see Masha shrink into herself when she's usually so outgoing. It took so long for her to accept herself! I don't want her to self-doubt again…"
"With you around, she won't," Gabriel laughed softly, well-aware of how much Misha's acceptance had helped his friend get over her family's homophobia when she was a teenager. It shouldn't be any different this time around.
"Instead of being lovey-dovey," Vanessa tsked, her head barely visible behind the pile of blankets she had brought with her, "maybe you could help me prepare your bed. We'll need to unfold the couch for that, and you're kind of in the way."
Twisting his neck, Misha glared at his friend, and Gabriel couldn't help but shake his head. Misha was being a diva today.
"Alright, get up."
"But your thighs are super-duper comfy," Misha pouted, tightening his embrace around Gabriel's waist, drawing a 'oof' out of him. "I don't want to leave them!"
"…Are you twisting the knife or something?"
A guttural snort snapped Misha out of his antics, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
Right, Vanessa was in the middle of a lover's quarrel with Isaac for a petty reason he had already forgotten. It had something to do with Vanessa's tendency to flirt with others, didn't it? If anything, it was her fault, but Misha thought it better not to point it out, or he feared he might end up sleeping in the streets tonight.
***
Jake slouched on his bed, exhausted.
Angela went through an existential crisis earlier, and handling it had been hard on his nerves. He couldn't yet snap. No, he had to keep the mask on for a while longer. Gabriel had passed the information to the police; now they had to wait and ensure neither Angela nor Matthew realized something was amiss while the investigators did their job.
If they caught on, they'd scramble to hide the evidence of their crimes, if not fabricate some to pin the blame on someone else.
"Hopefully, we'll get rid of them this time…"
A knock on the door resounded, snatching a faint sigh out of him. He hadn't had a second to himself since their return from the court, and he doubted he would get any until Gabriel came back.
No matter how much he wanted to get under the blankets and sleep, he couldn't afford to. Not yet, at least—the person on the other side of the door was being too insistent to pretend he hadn't heard them.
"Yes?"
"Your father would like to meet with you, sir."
A frown creased Jake's brow as a bad premonition started to brew in the pit of his stomach. Matthew never asked for him at home; only at work. Heck, he barely even showed his face at supper, and he certainly only did it because Angela insisted.
"…I'm coming."
Pushing down the uncertainty in the pit of his stomach, Jake got up. If anything, he'd rather handle another tantrum from Angela than a discussion with his father. At least, with his mother, he knew what to expect, whereas he could never get a read on this cold-hearted man's face. For sure, both he and Gabriel had inherited his poker face.
Still, he couldn't ignore a direct order from him, however tempting that was. So, he got out of his bedroom and walked downstairs to his father's office.
After nodding at the servant to dismiss her, Jake stared at the doorknob for a second, narrowing his eye at it, before finally rapping his knuckles on the door. A second later, a 'come in' resounded.
With Matthew's permission, Jake opened the door, and almost stumbled on his own two feet when his gaze fell upon the guest sitting at his father's desk.
'You've got to be shitting me!' The thought almost escaped his mouth, but he somehow managed to swallow the words on the tip of his tongue and keep a straight face, his eye barely lingering on Pierrot before shifting to Matthew.
"You asked for me?"
"Yes, it's concerning a deal we have with the Western company. I need you to review some employees' contracts with this man."
"Alright. When do you need the revised contracts?"
"Tomorrow morning."
So, an all-nighter it is.
Funny how his mother saw him as a pretty tool to attract potential customers, and his father saw him as a tool to do the tedious work. But at least, it proved that he had gained his trust. Or more like, Matthew didn't think he posed a threat.
"You might work in the dining room; the staff won't bother you. If you have questions, note them down and come see me later."
"Yes, sir."
Jake nodded, aware that Matthew hated working with people around, so he didn't push his luck. Not like he wanted to spend time in the same space as his father and breathe the same air as him in the first place.
"If you will, please follow me downstairs."
Pierrot responded with a smile and a nod.
With the contracts in hand, Jake turned around and left his father's office to go down another staircase, the man following him in tow.
Of course, Jake wondered what the heck he was doing here this evening, but he didn't see fit to ask right now, not with the indiscreet ears around.
Tristan could always tell him later.
Still, when Jake wanted to find the man, he couldn't; when he didn't want to see him, he popped into his life a little too often to his taste. It was to wonder if Pierrot didn't do it on purpose, just to get under his skin. He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.
That guy's personality seemed as nasty as the one Tristan had in his two previous lives, if not nastier.