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It had been a quiet day at the office, a fact for which Sheril was deeply grateful for. His secretary had left for the day, humans weren’t coming in and bothering him, the akuma were blissfully out of sight and out of mind—even his family hadn’t managed to ruin the peace by bursting through the door uninvited. And to top it all off, Tricia had volunteered to entertain the visiting French minister and his overly chatty and obnoxious wife, keeping them out of his hair and, more importantly, out of his office; the minister had a bad track record for coming in and parking himself in front of Sheril’s desk with a bottle of Merlot, which, seeing as Sheril couldn’t just go ahead and simply kill the man (an order that still made his blood pressure rise every time the minister made an appearance), meant that he was not only subjected to listening to the Frenchman ramble on as if they were old friends, but that he had to listen to the ramblings of a drunk Frenchman. He could feel his eye twitching just from thinking about it.
As he locked up the doors to his home office, Sheril made a silent wish that the Frenchman had already taken his wife and his leave so that he could finish the remainder of his evening without the inconvenience of having to deal with guests. Nearing the stairs to the front entry, his shoulders slouched slightly as his ears registered the grating sounds of slurred French accents, but perked back up as he heard Tricia bidding them farewell. Only when he heard the front door being shut securely did he leave the safety of the second story, descending the steps to find not only his wife, but also his darling brother still by the door. Tricia looked tired and pale, as was the case more often than not these days, but still offered him a warm and loving smile when she noticed that he had joined them.
“Oh, chéri, you just missed the minister…” Her voice held the same exhaustion that her face did.
Beside her, Tyki choked back a laugh. His brother hated pet names. He was surprised when Sheril gave no indication as to having noticed the slip of words in his sister-in-law’s speech, Sheril having chalked it up to her being tired, tipsy, and not enunciating clearly rather than an attempt at a loving endearment on her part. What Sheril also failed to notice was the sly smile spreading across his little brother’s face as mischievous wheels started turning in Tyki’s mind.
“I hadn’t realized that you would be joining us, irmão. Were you missing me already~”
Tyki snorted, rolling his eyes, “Why of course, you know I always miss you, Sheri.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice and he couldn’t help but smirk as Sheril’s eye twitched at his slow and deliberate butchering of his name. The only thing that spared Tyki from a thorough telling-off was Road and Wisely bursting in through the front doors, the two “kids” effectively trampling their adoptive father in their race through the house.
The next morning, Sheril found himself forced to sip his tea outside, the Earl having shown up far earlier in the morning than should have been legal and insisting that they take advantage of the beautiful day, starting first thing with breakfast in the courtyard. With Tricia having elected to sleep in and the bratty mind reader thankfully absent along with the majority of his family, Sheril was able to relax back into his chair as Tyki and Road bantered back and forth, the Earl humming quietly to himself as he read the newspaper. Starting on his third cup, Sheril nearly choked on his tea as Wisely’s voice rang out from somewhere behind him, effectively souring his mood and snuffing out the small glimmer of hope that he had held that he might actually be able to enjoy a family breakfast for once.
Wisely flopped down across the Earl’s shoulders, stealing a sip from his untouched cup before sliding into the empty chair between Tyki and the patriarch. Sheril drummed his fingers against the table in agitation as the newest Noah inserted himself into the ongoing conversation. But it wasn’t long before the mind reader suddenly stopped, turning all of his eyes towards his foster father, his expression pure mischief.
“You’re awfully quiet this morning, Sheri~” It took less than a heartbeat for Sheril to fling himself halfway across the table, his long fingers just barely failing to secure themselves around Wisely’s neck, who had managed to jerk backwards to safety just in the nick of time as his chair tipped back and fell, taking the teen with it.
The Earl, finally looking away from his paper and seeing Sheril’s seething expression, gave a small chuckle, resting his chin against his interlaced fingers, “Oh come now, Sheril, I think it suits you~ It’s perfectly adorable~”
Tyki and Wisely busted out laughing, both wondering what on earth about Sheril could possibly scream “adorable.” The look on Sheril’s face was priceless enough that it was worth having to dodge the cup and saucer that came flying towards their faces, and the giggles that bubbled up from Road nearly sent her tumbling from her chair, clutching her sides with tears in her eyes as Wisely hid himself behind Tyki, using his uncle as a shield from Sheril’s fury.
A servant brought out breakfast and more tea while Sheril was busy attempting to dismember his adopted son and threatening less-permanent bodily harm against his brother, side-stepping them without so much as blinking to get to the table. Controlling her laughter long enough to get words out, Road whispered into the akuma’s ear, who bowed before taking her leave; Wisely doubled over laughing again, having picked up on what Road had asked of the demon, accidentally fueling Sheril’s rage once more.
With the Earl’s intervention, Tyki and Wisely both made it through the day relatively unscathed, much to Sheril’s dismay. In fact, the entire ordeal seemed to have been entirely forgotten by the rest of his family members, once again returning to their typical forms of address for him; Sheril could have purred, he was so content—it wasn’t often that they learned their lessons on the first try; it often took…forceful persuasion, to say the least. By the time that lunch rolled around the following day, all thoughts of it had left Sheril completely. Which made it even more jarring when the akuma who came in to delivery his afternoon tea addressed him as “Master Sheri.” The subsequent explosion could be heard all the way on the other side of the manor, the force of it knocking paintings and plaster off the walls of Sheril’s office.
He stormed out of his office absolutely livid, murderous intent gleaming in his eyes as he set out determined to give the responsible party a slow and agonizing death, his frustration and anger reaching its peak when the trail of now-dead akuma lead straight to his darling Road positively dying of laughter on the floor next to the British street rat, the latter of whom at least had the common sense to jump up and run away when he once again found himself to be the target of Sheril’s ire.
Finally, an entire week passed in which Sheril’s name remained fully intact and unaltered in any way. He was finally convinced that the nightmare was over, the rest of the Noah family having moved on to other pursuits and forms of annoyance, thankfully none of which involved him as their target. Flinging open the double doors that led into the library, Sheril was surprised to find Lulu Bell lounging in one of the overstuffed armchairs with a bored expression on her face as she flipped through the pages of the book in her hands; the shapeshifter had been making herself scarce as of late, and if she had announced herself when she had come over, she hadn’t done so to him, making Sheril grind his teeth in annoyance at her impertinence.
He inhaled sharply, fully intending on chewing her out and informing her of the proper protocol for paying a visit to his home, but before he could open his mouth, Lulu Bell beat him to the punch.
“Sheri,” her greeting was nonchalant and uncaring as she turned the page, not even bothering to look up from the book.
Sheril’s exhale was more akin to a feral growl as he turned heel and stomped back out of the library without a word, missing the almost indiscernible way that Lulu Bell’s lips quirked upwards at the corners behind his back.