Work Text:
“Vinnie, where is he?”
A sigh echoes through the office as Harmony slams the door open. She probably should have knocked, or at least asked Vinnie a little nicer where that jackass of a CEO is, but she’s in a hurry. His schedule shows that he’s out of office which he hasn’t done in the last who knows how many years. He’s just never out of office! He practically lives in his office! And, not that she’d ever admit it, but she’s worried about him.
“I don’t know who you are talking about, Ms Pax. And please knock before bursting through the door. There are meetings being held around here.”
“Cut the shit, Vinnie. Where is he?”
“I still don’t know who you are talking about.”
“You know damn well who I’m talking about. So, please,” she almost hisses out the please, “tell me where Urbain is. His schedule says he’s out of office and I know he doesn’t have a business trip or anything. So where is he?”
“As his schedule says, he is out of the office for the day.”
Harmony groans as she presses her palms into her cheeks. Vinnie is being ever so helpful, as always. He just stares at he, his fingers hovering over the keyboard of his computer. He stares at her, as if he’s expecting her to say something or to just leave. Too bad for him, she’s not going to do either of those things.
“Vinnie.” Harmony’s voice is coated in that fake sweetness that no one believes as she steps closer to the desk. “Wonderful, hard-working Vinnie. Amazing Vinnie who keeps everything in check. Could you please, and I really mean it, please, tell me where Urbain is?”
“Harmony,” he doesn’t even flinch as she places both hands on his desk, leaning in and batting her lashes at him, “I will not be telling you where Mr. President is. Not only is it none of my business, but it is also none of yours. I would kindly suggest you just go back to work, and whatever you need from him will be taken care of when he returns to work.”
“Vinnie!” Harmony groans as she slumps against the desk. “I know you know and you know that you can tell me! How long have we known each other?”
“Long enough for me to have a third daughter.”
“Exactly! So help me out here and tell me where he is!”
Vinnie shakes his head once again. “It is not because we have known each other for years that I will be telling you where Mr. President is. And if it’s that important, I know you have your ways of contacting him yourself. So please,” Harmony straightens out as Vinnie slides his glasses down his nose, “either get back to work or at least let me finish my work.”
He’s useless. Vinnie is completely useless as Harmony pushes herself off the desk and stomps out of his office. She stops in the doorway before shooting one last look at Vinnie. His eyes are on her and the smallest sliver of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“When you find him, make sure he’s resting.”
Harmony huffs as she slams the door shut behind herself. She’s too old to be acting this way; she’s too old to be so concerned about Urbain. It’s not like it’s her responsibility to take care of that overgrown manchild. She’s got way better things to do than chase after him, all because he didn’t tell her he was going to not come into the office. She’s way too busy to be—
“I’ll be back later. I have errands to run. Call Victoria if you need help with anything.”
No one questions their boss as she grabs her coat and bag. No one ever questions her when she gets up and leaves, running off to who-knows-where. No one dares question her; she’s never challenged anyone who didn’t deserve it, but she’s known for not being the nicest boss when she’s in a bad mood. She’s great at her job, but she wields respect.
The walk from Quasartico Inc. to the old building in Magenta Sector 1 isn’t all that long, but with the newly fallen snow and biting wind, it’s probably the longest walk Harmony has been on in a very long time. School-aged children are throwing poorly formed snowballs at each other as they make their way to school, screaming and laughing, a sound that normally wouldn’t bother her all that much. But now, with her bad mood souring absolutely everything, she needs to turn attention away from them. She needs to turn her attention to her freezing cold phone pressed to her cheek.
“You’ve reached Urbain Lucille. Sorry I can’t make it to the phone right now, but please leave a message and I’ll reach out as soon as I can.”
Voicemail again. She hangs up again. He can’t even bother answering his damn phone. How busy can he possibly be to not answer one of her dozen calls? Cleary too busy to come into work.
“Hello?”
Finally. Finally, Urbain answers. And he sounds like shit. His voice is rough and weak, something akin to a low, burning whisper. It sounds like every syllable hurts, a sound Harmony has never heard coming from him.
“Nice of you to finally answer.”
“What do you want?”
What does she want? To make sure he’s not dead, first of all. And also to know where he is.
“Are you at home?”
“I’m in bed, Harmony. What is it?”
“I’m at your door. I’m letting myself in.”
She doesn’t even bother giving him the time to answer. They’re past that stage; she knows her way around his apartment almost better than she knows her own. She’s over so often that the security guard at the entrance just nods at her as his eyes fall back to his phone. He knows where she’s headed; they both know she’ll be back later in the week as well.
Despite the old exterior the building, the interior is beyond nice. The elevators almost glisten from how polished they are; they’re so different from that old elevator in Hotel Z. Here, everything is bright and sparkling. Here, everything looks brand new. And expensive. Everything looks so expensive.
Harmony tugs on the scarf she had quickly looped around her neck. She looks like a hot mess; the wind completely disheveled her, and her coat is buttoned up wrong. And if she looks like shit, it’s his fault. If Urbain had just gone to work like he was supposed to, then she wouldn’t look so stupid.
The apartment is completely silent when Harmony opens the door. Urbain’s shoes are still nicely lined against the wall and his coat is tossed onto a chair. His keys hang still from the little hook by the door and his wallet rests on top of other clutter he’s thrown into a basket. Everything looks perfectly in place.
“Urbain?”
Harmony isn’t quite the tidy type like Urbain is. If he keeps everything in order, she’s just kicking her boots off and tossing her coat over his. Her scarf is thrown aside with no regard of whether or not it ends up on the floor or not. Wherever things land, so be it. She’s got better things to do than make sure she’s hanging her coat up or placing her boots perfectly by the door.
“Urbain, what are you—?”
A lump barely moves in bed as Harmony pokes her head in. And if it weren’t for the fact that she’s quite literally in Urbain’s apartment and that she knows that he lives alone, she might not have known that it was him still curled in his blankets.
Warmth washes over her as she slowly, quietly makes her way to his side. He’s sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. He looks peaceful, his cheek sunken deep into his pillow. He looks cute, even, locks of blond hair falling across his face, leaving him completely unbothered.
“Urbain.”
He stirs ever so slightly as Harmony’s fingers swipe his hair out of his face. He blinks a few times before completely opening and staring at her face. And he looks like he’s going through the motions, pushing himself up into a sitting position.
“Harmony, what are you…? How did you…? Why are you…?”
He doesn’t even try to finish his sentences. He just lets his whole body flop back down, pulling the blanket over his head. He’s acting like a child, and he knows it. Or at least, he better know it.
The moment of silence is just enough for Harmony to start snooping around. Everything is nice and tidy as usual, except for his nightstand. A half empty water bottle lays there discarded alongside well-labeled medicine bottles. There’s cough syrup and pain meds, both the cheap brand one might find at the corner pharmacy. The colorful packaging looks almost out of place against the perfectly curated walls.
“You didn’t even get the name brand?”
“It’s what my mom used to get me when I was a kid. And they work just fine for a quarter of the price.”
His voice is muffled by his pillow. He sounds almost annoyed that she’s here; maybe she shouldn’t have come. Maybe she was making a fuss out of nothing. And it’s not like he needs her to nurse him back to health or anything. He’s completely fine on his own. She doesn’t have to spend so much energy on caring for—
“You’re burning up, Urbain.”
Urbain hums as he presses his cheek into the palm of her hand. He definitely doesn’t need Harmony to take care of him, but while she’s here, she might as well take matters into her own hands. And he really is burning up. He’s clearly running a fever, despite the medication he’s taken. And if she leaves him, who knows what might happen. He might die, for all she knows.
“Have you had water? Something to eat?”
He looks almost pathetic as he palms around his nightstand, searching for the water bottle that has now fallen to the ground. He grunts as he pushes himself back up into a sitting position, his eyes searching for his lost possession. He looks weaker than Harmony has ever seen him, color has drained from his face and his blue eyes look so dull as he looks around.
She hands him the half empty bottle which he fiddles with before having it taken away from him. And as Harmony hold it away from him, unscrewing the cap for him, he almost looks like a child. He looks like a child, which normally would piss her off given that he’s almost 30, but there’s something endearing about the look in his eyes. There’s something sweet about the way he watches her open the water bottle and hand it back to him. There’s something precious about the way he smiles and thanks her before taking a sip.
“Don’t.”
It’s not the first time Urbain’s said no to her, but it’s also not something Harmony is used to. She’s not used to his palm pushing at her shoulder, keeping her away from him. She’s not used to being denied anything.
“You’re going to get sick.”
Yeah, that sounds more like it. Ever the overthinker. Ever the cautious one. It’s a wonder they can even stand each other; it’s a wonder they can’t get enough of the other. They really couldn’t be any more different.
“I’ll be fine, Urbain.”
Maybe it’s the fever, or maybe it’s just that he’s weak to her, but he doesn’t push her away as she presses a kiss to his forehead. Harmony knows better than to lay kisses to his lips; she knows better than to actually risk catching whatever it is that has him bedridden. So she presses a kiss to his forehead, slowly pushing him back into his pillows. He needs rest, even she’s not dumb enough to not realize that.
“Go back to sleep. I’ll go prepare you something to eat.”
Normally, it would be so easy to leave his side. In an ideal world, he’d happily go back to sleep and by the time he’d wake up, something warm and comforting would be ready for him to consume. In an ideal world, he’d be better in no time. In an ideal world, taking care of one another wouldn’t come with a price.
“Harmony.” Fingers curl around her wrist as she gets up to head to the kitchen. Urbain is pushing himself up on his elbows once more. “Stay. Please.”
“I’m just gonna make you some food. Did you eat at all today?”
He shakes his head. “I can just order something. But, please, stay here.”
He’s being difficult again, but Harmony isn’t one to back down. Even if his blue eyes are pleading, even if his fingers are sliding down her palm and intertwining with hers, he can’t stop her. Or at least, she’d like to think he can’t stop her. Truth be told, she’s no stronger than him. Truth be told, she’s a complete mess for him.
“Fine. But at least let it be my treat. Let me order something for you.” Urbain’s smile is enough to convince her. His smile and the tug on her hand are enough for her to press her knees into the mattress as she presses another kiss to the top of his head. “And at least let me get out of my work clothes.”
One kiss to the back of her hand is what it takes for Urbain to let go of her. One kiss and a smile before leaning back into the mattress. One kiss and a smile, but never do his eyes leave her. Never does he look away as she shimmies out of her pants and pull her shirt over her head. Never do his eyes leave her body as she rummages through his laundry to grab something looser and larger to wear.
“What?”
Urbain doesn’t say anything as she crawls into bed next to him. He just buries his nose in the crook of her neck, his fingers curling around the loose t-shirt she slipped into. It’s old and faded, but it smells of Urbain. It smells of his fabric softener and something so intrinsically him. And it makes for a very nice sleeping shirt, not that Harmony plans on doing any sleeping.
It’s nice and quiet as she scrolls through her phone. Apparently, finding somewhere that will deliver hot soup is nearly impossible to find. It’s all sandwiches and eight-course meals. It’s all restaurants that seem to be proud of their extinction of the plain broth. Everything sounds way too fancy for a guy running a 104° fever; some high-end restaurant is serving what they claim is the Founder of Lumiose City’s secret recipe of some national soup that Harmony can’t even pronounce. Nothing is to her liking.
“Just order something from the little dinner at the corner. You can use my phone.”
She’s getting too domestic as she presses another kiss to the top of Urbain’s head; she’s being too soft with him as she strokes his hair.
“I said I would pay. Let me take care of you for once.”
She wasn’t supposed to say that last part out loud. He isn’t supposed to know that she cares about it, that she’s worried about it, that she wants him to get better soon. He isn’t supposed to know how much of a mess she is for him. He’s supposed to think she’s pitying him, not that she’s ready to drop everything in a heartbeat if it means being by his side.
Blue, blue eyes lock with hers. Blue, blue eyes seem so big, yet so tired. Blue, blue eyes that she searches for in every corner of the world. Who else could have her in this position? Who else would have her looking like a fool, swimming in an old t-shirt and sunken into a mattress as she searches the 4 corners of the city for a bowl of soup? Who else would have her choose a bed over her work?
“You actually want to take care of me?”
A chuckle leaves Urbain’s lips as Harmony turns away, huffing as she turns her attention back to her phone. She’s typing away at it, looking up this dinner he’s mentioned. It better than admitting truths he’s not supposed to be aware of. Knowing is a dangerous thing, after all.
“Who are you and what have you done with my Harmony?” She presses her cheek into the palm of Urbain’s hand as she sets her phone down. Takeout should take about 20 minutes to get here. It’s just enough time to indulge in his smile and his banter. “See, the Harmony I know would never go out of her way to take care of me like this. She’d tell me to grow up and get back to the office.”
It's a little sad that he’s not completely wrong. Admittedly, she was furious that he wasn’t at work this morning. Admittedly, she was ready to drag him back to his office. Or at least, she’d like to think that’s what she’d do. Admitting that she always had the intention of sitting at his side, making sure he was getting enough rest, that’s not something she’d let anyone know. Herself included.
“She’d never tell me she actually wants to take care of me when I look and feel like shit.”
“You make me sound like a heartless monster, Urbain.” Silence. He’s not wrong to describe her that way. She hasn’t always been the kindest with him. “I do care for you, you know. Too much, I think.”
The playful look in his eyes dies down as he sets his head back on her shoulder. Quiet settles in the room; her fingers find his head again, fiddling with locks of his soft hair. She’s not sure if he’s falling asleep again or if he just can’t bare looking at her. If he looks at her, she might say something stupid. If his big blue eyes find hers again, she’s not sure what she might do or say to him.
“You had me worried when you weren’t in work this morning. You never miss work. I’m pretty sure you live for your job.”
“I live for other things too. My job just happens to take up most of my time.”
“You need to take care of yourself. You need to rest and get out a little more. I just— I don’t like being worried about you.”
Urbain shifts again to look at her. Clearly, he’s not on the verge of sleep; Harmony knows when he’s about to drift off. She’s seen him fight sleep time and time again; his gaze is too pointed, too focused for it to be one of those times.
“I never asked you to be worried about me.”
“I can’t help worrying about you. You’re too important to me to not be worried sick when you don’t answer my texts or my calls. You mean too much to me.”
She’s spilling secrets she’s supposed to hold so close to her chest. She dropped the jar of secrets and it’s shattered at Urbain’s feet. They’re laid out for him to grab, to piece together, to know her hidden truths. They’re there, ready to spell out Harmony’s full heart.
“Am I really that important to you?”
“You’re one of the most important people in my life, Urbain. Don’t pretend you don’t know that.”
“I didn’t.”
His cheeks are soft against Harmony’s hands. His skin is always so soft. And his lips are always so kissable. She tries avoiding them, she tries her best keeping away from him, but she always finds herself there. She always finds herself in his bed. She always finds herself with his body pressed to hers. She always finds herself drifting back to him, regardless of where she finds herself.
“Don’t.”
His protests have never been weaker than in this moment. He might be telling her not to kiss him, but his body is moving closer. She’s not even the one closing the distance. She’s just guiding him to her. She’s just tilting her head to better position herself.
The kisses are soft and gentle and loving. In another life, she might have woken up to these types of kisses on the daily. In another life, she might not have ever felt guilty about having his hands on her body, searching for skin under the loose t-shirt. In another life, maybe it would have been okay for her to press her body into his, craving his touch and love. In another life, maybe they could have called it love.
“I don’t think I have the energy for sex right now, Harmony.”
“We don’t have to.” For once, she means it. For once, she’s actually just fine with kisses and cuddles. “Just stay here. Rest.”
Illness really has taken a toll on Urbain’s body. He’s heavy against her, his head resting on her shoulder once against. His arm is lazily wrapped around her waist as he snuggles closer, pressing kisses to her skin. Finally, sleep is filling his eyes again. Finally, he’s going to rest.
There has to be a world out there where this is their normal. There has to be a world out there where Harmony doesn’t feel guilty with every kiss she presses to his hair. There has to be a world out there where she can do this and more. There has to be world where they can just be Urbain and Harmony. There has to be somewhere, someplace where she’s not biting her tongue. There must be somewhere where she can whisper her secrets into his hair. There has to be a time when she can tell him she loves him, truly, and not feel herself die a little with every heartbeat threatening to scream it.