𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕊𝔸 (Thyme x OC)

Shattered Expectations

Thyme sat across from his mother in the grand sitting room, the tension simmering between them. The walls were lined with portraits of his ancestors, each framed in gilded edges that seemed to emphasise the legacy his mother so often reminded him of. She sipped her tea slowly, her gaze fixed on him with an unsettling calm.

"You know, Thyme," she began, setting down her cup with a soft clink, "there are expectations placed upon you—not just for yourself, but for our family. You are well aware of what your association with...certain people means for us."

He frowned, irritation bubbling just beneath the surface. "If you're talking about Arisa—"

"I am," she interrupted smoothly. "The company has faced enough scrutiny over the years. We don't need any more distractions, especially not ones that could jeopardize everything we've built."

Thyme leaned forward, jaw set. "You mean everything you've built," he replied. "Maybe that's the issue. I'm trying to build something for myself."

His mother's expression hardened, her gaze steely. "And I thought you were starting to understand the importance of reputation, Thyme. The family name isn't something to throw around for personal whims."

Thyme clenched his fists, holding back the urge to storm out. He knew she didn't understand, maybe never would, but he wouldn't let her tear down what he and Arisa had built. "You might not think so, but I need to live my own life. Arisa is part of that life. She's not a whim."

His mother's face softened, though her voice remained firm. "If you are to continue down this path, you'll have to make a choice soon. The family will always be here—but not if you insist on defying everything we stand for."

Thyme felt the weight of her words, yet a surprising clarity settled over him. He stood up, locking eyes with her. "Then that's something I'll have to decide. But don't think for a second that I'll give up what I care about."

As he turned to leave, his mother's voice followed him, calm yet sharp. "You'll find that in this family, it's often the sacrifices we make that define us, not the choices we're bold enough to take."

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Thyme leaned against the edge of Ren's luxurious billiard room, an expanse of dark wood and leather, where soft, dim lights reflected off polished marble and velvet armchairs. The room carried the scent of oak and old cologne, a quiet elegance that belied the lively chatter within it. But tonight, despite the relaxed luxury, there was a tension settling around him like a weight.

He chalked his cue absently as MJ leaned over the table, focused intently on his shot, the soft click of billiard balls breaking the silence. But Kavin, ever the observant one, noticed the way Thyme's gaze was far away, clouded, as if the game and banter around him couldn't quite pull him back to the present.

"What's with the brooding expression?" Kavin asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned on his cue. "Did Arisa finally put you in your place?"

Thyme shot him a look, but his usual sharp retort seemed absent. "Very funny, Kavin. But for your information, it's more complicated than that." He hesitated, gripping the cue tighter, almost like he was reluctant to admit his next words. "Family stuff. You know how it goes."

Ren scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the wall. "Family stuff? As in the 'my-mother-makes-me-hold-up-her-legacy' type of thing? Come on, Thyme, we've heard this script before. Maybe... she's just worried about you."

"Worried?" MJ added with a laugh, finally pocketing the ball he'd been aiming for. He straightened up, grinning. "You think his mother cares about anything other than what's best for 'The Family'? With a capital F?"