Chapter Text
“Fudge…”
I had been searching for the last fifteen hours straight, but to no avail.
It was time to face the facts.
There was no way I’d be able to find a trace of Advent just by patrolling the streets of New York.
The sigh escaped my lips before I even realized I let it out.
The air was quite cold on this rooftop, cold enough for me to see my breath and, frankly, cold enough for me not to enjoy the whimsy of it.
I dropped down from the ledge into the alley below before merging with the flow of people on the noisy sidewalk.
Seventeen hours ago, Advent disappeared from holding.
Just straight up vanished without a trace.
And finding those five girls in this city without any clues was like searching for a needle in a haystack.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked on the rest of Justice’s location.
“Gigi and Cece are in Hell’s Kitchen…Raora in Greenwhich…”
I didn’t even attempt to suck back the next sigh I let out as I looked to the gray skies.
Justice was wonderful.
Truly, I harbored no regrets about being the leader of such a team, or about being allowed to have a place in making the world a safer place in an actual, tangible way as opposed to simply sitting in a throne room.
But there were times when my duties as its leader and my duties as Exardia’s queen collided.
After hearing the news about Advent, I had to drop everything and take an immediate flight to New York, where they’d last been seen, to find them before they gained any more ground.
Which was also wonderful because I was in the middle of planning for the annual Rosarian festival.
That meant an endless trove of paperwork and sleepless nights awaited me on my flight back.
Not that I wasn’t in such a situation already.
Oh, and poor Bobby.
I’d barely been spending enough time with him as of late.
He’d been patiently waiting at my bedroom door every night for some attention and cuddles.
I made a mental note to give him some much-deserved pampering when I got home as I passed on the crosswalk.
And Advent…that situation was a whole other complication.
One of my most closely guarded secrets was my awe for Advent.
The way they carried themselves, their freedom, their power, their confidence–everything about them drew my attention to them.
Though I’d never met them in person, the countless times I’d rewound their footage were probably enough of a sign of my closeted reverence for them.
It felt like they were everything I desired and admired, built into five women sitting in a prison cell.
If they weren’t criminals, I’d have invited them for a relaxing stay in Exardia in hopes of building a rapport, a connection, perhaps even a friendship?
But alas, that idea was only an ‘if’.
They were, in fact, criminals of global renown, each dangerous in their own right, who had committed heinous crimes and escaped prison while injuring many guards as collateral damage.
There would be no future for a friendship between us…
As another passerby bumped into me, I noticed their eyes trained on my flame; in fact, several pairs of eyes.
I’d completely forgotten that going around like this was practically advertising that I was the Scarlet Queen.
I’m sure my clothes weren’t great for blending in either.
I remembered a small trick a certain silver-haired jester had taught me at our last run-in.
A bit of magic, of sorts, that even a swordsman like myself could use.
With a snap of my fingers, the flickering flame on my chest vanished into embers.
I pulled the hem of my neckline forward and smiled at the now-replaced tattoo embedded on my chest: a large flame of various shades of blue.
As I pulled up my sleeves to better cover my shoulders, which were stinging with the chill, I wasn’t even sure why we were in New York anymore.
Even the air itself felt sticky and tough as I tried to ignore the somehow consistently cigarette-smoke-like smell that made my nose scrunch.
Headquarters was sure, for some reason, that Advent was in New York right now and would be for a prolonged period.
But once again, that gave us nothing to go on as far as where they were specifically.
Regardless of the outcome, I’d most likely be on a flight back to Exardia tomorrow afternoon and wouldn’t return until after the festival’s completion.
Tugging at one of my belts, I decided to be impulsive.
I strutted into the first small clothing shop I found and offered the equally generous manager a generous sum of money to hold onto my clothes for the night and lend me some to wear.
In the end, I walked out of the store in a pair of baggy, ripped jeans that touched my laced sneakers, a plain white tank top barely visible beneath my comfy, very warm brown leather jacket.
I had also gone the extra mile, fixing my long hair into a messy bun of red and blue strands, with an unnecessary pair of sunglasses sitting on my head.
I held onto my earrings, but nonetheless, I had become casual!
God, needing to think, I had become casual, made me feel like an old lady.
I need this break.
I decided that I would treat tonight as a night off in the Big Apple.
Though I didn’t want to stroll too far away from the store, out of caution for not being able to retrieve my actual clothes tomorrow morning, I opted for a recommendation offered by the manager while I was changing.
After a quick two-minute power walk, I found myself three blocks away in front of an alley door.
Praying to god it was the right spot, I opened it and found myself in an ‘80s-esque bar.
Vintage posters and signs were plastered along the chipped walls, booths were placed in each corner of the room, and small circular tables filling the distance between the door and the actual bar.
It was certainly busy too, most likely for good reason.
A small circular stage was embedded into the wall, elevated enough that those seated were practically eye-level with the heels of the gorgeous singer on stage.
I had to admit that “gorgeous” was a word undeserving of even her eyes alone.
Dressed in a black slit dress that faded into blue at the edges, with small shiny gems embedded into it that glittered like stars against the night sky, the singer’s every facet was stunning.
A brilliant set of stones rested around her neck, completing the look.
As she turned to the side of the room I was in, her bright red eyes came into view, along with a beauty mark under her left one, and that flowing black hair with brilliant red inner lights.
The fairy lights strung above the stage seemed to illuminate her beauty even more and make the top layer of her hair even blacker.
But strangely, all of that felt trivial compared to what I felt when I heard her voice ring out.
It was so utterly smooth yet vibrant and thick with emotion, with each pause filled with such energy yet still holding an elegant flow between each word.
The way she looked at the crowd, one hand pressed to her chest and the other around the mic, made it feel like I was right in front of her–like she was giving me a performance for just me.
I absentmindedly made my way to an empty spot on the counter while hanging on every word sung, each one making my chest burn and thump.
Is ‘thump’ the right word?
As I sat down facing the stage, our eyes seemed to meet.
Her eyes slightly widened before returning to normal a second later, now with a hint of playfulness to them as she licked her lips.
At that moment, I felt like my entire stomach had dropped into a spiral.
Is this flirting?
Am I being flirted with?
I was sure I was blushing hard as I turned to the bartender and ordered a glass of a random bottle behind him that I pointed to.
I didn’t dare turn back around, but still couldn’t help but let her song trace its fingers along my back…until the music faded, and shortly after, someone sat next to me.
“Hiya darling~”
The voice made my throat burn as I turned my head to gaze at the enchanting singer who had seated herself next to me.
Knowing her eyes were fixed on me made the burning worse as I tried to calm down.
“Hi… You were great up there. Really great…”
She gave a small chuckle as she signaled to the bartender with her slender, sable-colored gloved fingers.
“Such a kind review for someone who came in halfway through my last song.”
My stomach was officially on a death roll.
“Oh, you noticed me coming in?”
“No, but trust me. I would’ve noticed someone as beautiful as you in the crowd while taking song requests earlier.”
Nope.
I’m not fine.
The gorgeous, enchanting woman with a perfect voice just called me beautiful.
Two glasses were pressed before us on the counter, the woman quickly taking one by the rim and swirling the ice around for a moment before sipping it a few times.
Each sip was followed by a lick of her lips that made my cheeks feel hot, like burning candle wax.
I grabbed my own glass and took it all in one shot.
There was no way I could survive this encounter in complete sobriety.
“So your name is gorgeous?”
Dead if she keeps complimenting me like this.
“Oh, um…Eliza! Eliza Ashvale! My friends call me Lizzie!” I muttered, quickly stealing one of the last names on the family registry for my lie. “Yours?”
“Juliet Nereids.” She whispered smoothly as she finished her own drink.
“Juliet? I guess this is our ‘star-crossed’ meeting?” I whispered with a shy smile, hoping my awkward attempt at a flirt hadn’t stumbled.
Juliet paused before chuckling softly. Even her laughter was intoxicating to listen to.
I could barely catch her next words as the hum of her chuckle lulled me.
“Maybe if you desire it my Romeo?”
She’s seducing me. She’s a seductress. And she is succeeding.
I couldn’t help but take my glass-like shot, making Juliet’s eyes widen in what seemed like a mix of surprise and amusement.
This was probably a terrible idea on any other night.
But she wanted to seduce me on my night off? Game.
*****
She was giggling as everything around me seemed to blur, my jacket disappearing somewhere beside the bed.
Her hands grazed my rough, scarred shoulders. Something akin to curiosity lingered in her touch as she slipped off her gloves and pressed them into my mouth.
I couldn’t help but obediently bite down to hold them as she felt my scars with her bare hands.
Her smooth, pale fingers felt like ice against my arm as they moved down it, lingering on each scar like hooks before making their way down to my hands.
She lifted my left hand, pulling it up before pressing her lips against the inside of my wrist and nibbling along the lines of my palm.
I couldn’t help but let out muffled grunts as she kissed each of my fingers.
Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was her smooth gasps and giggles. Or maybe it was simply my own stupidity.
But I dropped the gloves and pulled her against me, my hands catching against the opening of her dress before I pressed my lips to hers.
She tasted like ube.
As the night grew hazy, she forced me to memorize her taste on my lips.
The feeling of her hands was ingrained on my chest.
And the feeling of hers was ingrained in mine.
It was a blur of salty tastes as her body pressed into mine, dizzying heat as she held my wrists above my head, and addictive sweetness as her grin grew wider each time I pushed her back into the pillows.
And then the blur faded to black.
*****
My hand reached my temples before I even opened my eyes.
I wanted to shut them again as the harsh light filtering through the curtains stung my eyes.
I let out a primordial groan as I sat up and looked around.
I let out a surprised groan as I saw the stunning woman next to me in bed.
And I let out a relieved groan as I realized she was asleep.
Then my eyes caught the clock, and I yelped as I realized the time.
I needed to leave. Now. If I wanted to catch my flight.
Sure, it was a private flight, but I really hated holding up the crew, especially when I’d scheduled it for a specific time.
I quickly got dressed as my migraine continued to manifest, dragging the memories of last night into my head with it.
By the time I finished, I wasn’t sure if I was red from the quick change or from remembering.
I adjusted my jacket and blushed as I noticed the mark pressed into my neck. I pulled my collar around it to cover it up and ran out the door.
I needed to get back to the clothing shop to retrieve my clothes and then rush to the airport.
As I headed down the stairs of the hotel, my eyes lingered on a blue strand of hair caught in my jacket cuff.
I wondered whose it was.
Perhaps someone I’d brushed against in the bar?