↳ 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑 ー 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘

𝐋𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈 ー 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

◉

Shell pink nails trace the pearls around her neck. Beautiful music lures her over to the piano where Grayson is seated, allowing his skilled fingers to press the correct keys in a smooth, quick rhythm.

"Is there anything you can't do?" Sierra joins him on the bench, playfully nudging his shoulder with her own.

"I could think of a few things."

"I'll fight you on every one."

He feels the keys but doesn't apply any pressure to them. Sleek, delicate. Eager to create ethereal pieces of music at the simplest of touches.

"What?" he asks softly.

She continues to stare, though a doe smile is now painting itself across her mouth. "You're pretty," she murmurs.

Roses blossom across his cheeks. He opens his mouth to object but not a sound nor a word can be projected. The fact that his own voice is failing to cooperate means he has no choice but to accept the compliment on this one occasion.

Her smile widens in his silence.

○ ○ ○

Windows shatter to free the flames. Heat attacks civilians near the storefront, screams ensuing as they scatter in various directions. Scorching tendrils reach out and twist together.

"Should've brought marshmallows," Sierra remarks.

To her right, a disappointed sound can be heard. "Why didn't we do that?" Grayson questions, sounding genuinely upset.

"I want to set something else on fire. I understand the appeal now."

He produces part of a smirk when an angry voice bellowing comes closer. It drowns out the crackles of the fire and the roof of the store collapsing.

"Look at my business!" The old man gestures wildly with his hands. "Look at what you've done. My poor business. I built this. I built it all and you ruin it. You ruined it!"

"Blame your nephew," Grayson replies.

"My nephew is a piece of shit. I want nothing to do with him he ruined my life. Now you tell me he's ruined my business too?!"

"What's going on?" Martin stares at the ruined store.

"You ruined everything! My life, my work, even your own mother can't bear to be around you. This is on you. You're paying for this. You're paying for everything." The man shoves him. "See if your fancy suits will pay off your debts."

He continues to grumble as he trudges away, sitting on a bench. He nods at a concerned woman holding a phone.

"You did this?" Martin points to the couple leant against the motorbike. "What the hell?"

"We won't be requiring your services any longer," Sierra tells.

"I don't work for you," he argues passively.

"You work for a chain of people who answer to us so technically, you do. Well, not anymore. You're fired. Ohー too soon?" She flickers between his rising anger and the flaming shop.