she would've made such a lovely bride.

by zwritestuff

Summary:

“I think your brother has truly lost his mind this time,” King says, still staring at the invitation in her hands.

“Why? Because he’s marrying Kasumi or because he’s inviting you to the wedding?” Yuri asks, sipping on her piña colada.

“Both.”

(or: King needs a plus one for her ex's wedding so she doesn't attract people's pity, but ends up gaining more than she bargained for.)

Notes:

did i disappear without updating the angel chronicles? yes. do i have an excuse? no not really. this has been MARINATING for MONTHS in my google docs. my beta forgot this existed (marjorie if you're for some reason reading this hello i love you for putting up with my shit despise the fandom) and so did i tbh. but anyways! this is a literal romcom there's not much to add. when will i be updating? that's between me and god.

Chapter 1: your mom's ring in your pocket

“I think your brother has truly lost his mind this time,” King says, still staring at the invitation in her hands.

“Why? Because he’s marrying Kasumi or because he’s inviting you to the wedding?” Yuri asks, sipping on her piña colada.

“Both.”

King inspects the envelope once, twice, until she's sure the words aren't deceiving her. She looks up at Yuri, who's watching her expectantly, and predictably declares she's not coming.

“C'mon, Yuri, what's more awkward than going to your ex's wedding?” She argues, and Yuri has to admit it's a fair point.

“I'm not telling you what to do,” Yuri says, “but you've been friends for, like, years—with both of them. It would be weird if you didn't come. I dunno, it would look as if you had a problem with them getting married.” She shrugs, and King groans because goddamn. That makes more sense than it should.

King doesn't have much time to ponder over Yuri's words before a customer waves at her for a refill, she leaves the envelope aside and goes back to work, a myriad of thoughts running through her mind.

She never in a million years thought Ryo would marry Kasumi; when she introduced them to each other—while she was still dating Ryo—they could barely stand each other. It was already a surprise when Kasumi called her at 1 a.m three years ago, completely drunk, and cried on the phone begging King to forgive her for going on a date with her ex. She didn’t manage to convince Kasumi right away that it was okay if she was attracted to Ryo (and that yes, she wasn’t mad, because they’re adults and King could not care less)—but in the end, she convinced her, and then began what King could only describe as the most chaotic relationship she’d ever witnessed.

She'd always seen them argue over rather mundane stuff, they butted heads more often than not; if Kasumi said the sky was blue, Ryo said it was red. If Kasumi did a hundred push ups, Ryo did a hundred and one to prove he was better. Why would they ever decide to get married?

“If I were to go,” King continues, once everything slows down, “your father would realize I’ve been lying all this time about having a partner.” Yuri’s eyes go wide, suddenly remembering the little white lie they told Takuma to get him off King’s back. The man was insistent that he preferred King as his daughter-in-law, and had only backed off when both Yuri and King fervently assured him she already had a new partner.

“Well, you can always just say you two broke up,” Yuri offers, like it’s no big deal.

“Well, yeah, but then I’d be alone at my ex’s wedding and your father would probably force me to say something during the “or forever hold your peace” part,” she explains, and silently wonders what is Takuma’s problem with Kasumi—she’s a nice girl, she’s already agreed to fulfill Takuma’s dream of having a grandchild. What else could he possibly want?

They’re deep into a discussion about the ethics of lying to your friends about catching some sort of virus, maybe the flu, to avoid going to their wedding when suddenly one of King’s employees elbows Yuri and throws herself over the counter, demanding King’s attention with a nervous smile.

“Boss~! Just to, like, check: if I break someone's nose while on the clock, I can't get fired because it would count as part of my job, right?” Angel asks, and King sighs loudly, knowing where this is going.

“How broken are we talking about?”

“It's not even bad! There's no blood or anything, but the guy says he'll sue the whole place.” She shrugs, and King thinks that it's not the first time someone has threatened to sue them, it used to happen a lot when she was on bouncer duties—but ever since Angel started working as their regular bouncer it happens a lot less.

Still, a threat is a threat.

“If he does sue, he will probably back down sooner than later—you had a good reason to break his nose, didn't you?”

“Yep! He tried to use a fake ID to enter and tried to stir up problems when I didn't let him in,” she says, puffing her chest out with pride at a job well done. King smiles.

“That's my girl.” She gives Angel a high-five and Angel's smile shines brighter than all the lights in Illusion.

“Well, good to know I won’t get sued then! I better get going, I left Jenet all alone there. See ya, boss.” Angel winks at King as she blows her a kiss, and just like she came, she left. King tries to not think much about Angel’s actions; she’s just like that, there’s nothing to overthink there.

But, of course, Yuri doesn’t know this because she had yet to properly meet Angel until now, so as soon as the platinum-haired bouncer is out of hearing shot, Yuri grabs King by her vest and declares that Angel has to be King’s plus one.

King tries to reason with her, explains that Angel is just flirty by nature and there’s no chance she’s into her. Besides, if she were, she’s her employee—it wouldn’t be professional for anything to happen between them. At that, Yuri falls silent for a second, going back to sipping on her piña colada while King does her job.

“You know,” Yuri says after a moment, “it doesn’t have to be real. You could just pretend.”

King allows herself to think about it for more than a minute, and when she can’t come up with a better alternative, she promises Yuri she’ll keep that in mind.

*

King thinks and thinks and thinks about it. The more she does, the more it sounds kind of plausible. She doesn’t have to worry about not being convincing enough because Angel’s charm would do the job for both of them, and if anyone at work were to find out, they can just tell the truth—it’s not like they’re going to keep the charade for too long, it’s just one night, and then it’s done.

That’s what King thinks, anyway.

*

The engagement party is what makes King cave in and decide to ask for Angel’s help.

It was just a casual dinner, except for the part where she got to know why Takuma didn’t approve of Kasumi: apparently, he and Kasumi’s dad had a life-long rivalry that neither man would let go of—even for the sake of their children. They somewhat behaved themselves, and only because Mai and Yuri—but Mai especially—had threatened them, so they’d be on their best behavior.

Once the dinner and the gift exchange was over, Takuma had confided in King that he still hoped that she’d change her mind last minute and give Ryo another chance. King had uncomfortably reminded him that not only Ryo was in love with Kasumi, but she already had a partner, and Takuma had commented he’d love to see who was charming enough to make King give up on Ryo.

King’s thoughts immediately went to Angel. Yeah, she was—is—the best option.

So she decides to bite the bullet and call Angel to her office with the wedding just three weeks away.

Angel sits in front of her, with her back straight as an arrow, a shiny smile, and her perfectly done make-up with the highlight being the eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man. King always thought Angel's make-up is some sort of deceiving mask; no one would think such a pretty girl would have so much strength and fighting spirit inside her.

She’s patiently expecting King to tell her what’s all of this about, but King’s more nervous than she’s letting on, so her wording isn’t the best.

“Right, so, I’m going to be honest with you here—”

“You’re not gonna fire me, right? Because I swear I’ll try to break less noses, boss; I kinda really need the job.”

“No! It’s nothing like that, you’re one of the best bouncers I’ve ever had,” King is quick to assure her, and Angel sighs in relief. “I want to talk to you about more… personal matters.” She mentally kicks herself when she sees Angel recoil in her seat, why is she being so damn mysterious? She’s freaking her out. “My ex invited me to his wedding, and I need someone to pretend to be my girlfriend so I don’t have to deal with my ex’s father pestering me to interrupt the ceremony. I figured I’d ask you, ‘cause, well, I think you’re very charming.”

King’s words are messy, coming out of her mouth without her thinking twice about it, and Angel’s expressions range from amused, to confused, to pensive. She’s about to tell her that she can refuse to go with her, but Angel speaks before she can form any sentence.

“I find it hard to believe someone like you can’t find someone else to pretend to be her girlfriend,” she says, lifting a brow. Her words make a blush creep on her cheeks. Someone like her. What does that even mean? “Why me?”

“I told you, you’re very charming; it won’t be hard to convince people we’re together.” Though, King thinks, charming is a bit of an understatement; Angel is a Disney princess in the sense that she can make even the grumpiest people on Earth fall in love with her. She’s witnessed first hand how, just in her first week at work, she befriended all the staff, even one of the bartenders, Georgie, who usually hates everyone.

There was no one more perfect to be her pretend girlfriend than Angel.

“Well, I’m glad, you thought of me, but—” Angel hesitates, drying her sweaty palms on her jeans. “—I’m kinda seeing someone right now, what would I tell her if I agree to this?”

Oh. King hadn’t taken into account that Angel could be in a relationship—it made sense, actually; a pretty girl like her must have someone in her life already. It bothers her for some reason, but she pushes it down.

“The truth,” King replies, shrugging. “We’re just pretending for the night.”

There’s silence for a long moment, during which King thinks Angel is going to tell her to fuck off and find someone else to pull this scheme with. That never happens, though; Angel says she will do it under the condition that she’ll get two days off after the wedding, because she plans on drinking every cocktail available. With a laugh, King tells her it’s a deal.

*

King can’t remember a moment where Angel texted her for other reasons than telling her she couldn’t make it to work that day, or to request a day off for some family event. So it comes as a surprise when just a few days after their agreement, she texts her photos of different dresses to help her pick which one to wear.

I don’t mean to upstage the bride, but I also want to look better than the other guests, her text reads. King refrains from replying that if Kasumi was going for a full traditional Japanese wedding kimono like she said she would, upstaging her would be hard work—but looking better than everyone else, yeah, that will be easy enough for Angel.

She tries to picture Angel in the four options she gives her, and though she would look good in anything she wore, King thinks about how mighty Angel looks in the two piece, emerald green dress, and can’t help to get her breath a little caught up. The green would compliment Angel’s skin tone better than the fuchsia dress with the off-the-shoulder design, or the black, floor length gown.

The green one, definitely, she sends.

The bubble with three dots appears almost right away.

I knew you’d say that one, you have great taste, boss, followed by a string of winking emojis. King wants to tell her to stop calling her boss, but Jean calls from the kitchen, and she has to shift her attention to something else.

*

“So, when people ask how we met, what are we telling them?” Angel asks, sitting on top of the bar counter with her legs swinging back and forth in the air.

It’s 3 am and they’ve been closed for twenty minutes now, the place is a mess, as it always is during Sundays, and King should tell Angel to get off her counter because she just wiped it and doesn’t need it getting dirty again, but she’s much more preoccupied counting the money in the register.

“Probably that we met on some dating app, I dunno,” King offers, she hadn’t thought much about the details yet.

“Booooo, that’s boring,” Angel protests, finally hopping off the counter to stand on the opposite side, leaning on the wooden surface as she stares at King, who finally peels her gaze off the bills. “We should have fun with this, make the most out of it. Why don’t we come up with some almost-hard-to-believe love story, eh?” Her smile is so radiant and hopeful it almost hurts to look at.

“I don’t know, I’m not really a romantic person.” Anymore, she adds in her mind. She’d been a hopeful romantic before, dreamed of all the things romance movies promised would happen if she did everything right, and now Kasumi has all of that instead of her.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter.

“Deep down we all are,” Angel says, so sure of her words. Her voice cuts through the noise threatening to take over King’s head. “At least I always try to look for the romantic side of everything, like right now.”

At that King raises a brow, prompting her to go on. Angel soon realizes how that sounds and rectifies herself, a blush creeping on her cheeks. “Not like that, boss, I meant–”

“Just call me King, it’s fine.”

“King,” Angel breathes out, like she’s testing how the word sounds on her tongue. It makes something inside King twitch, though she doesn’t know what or why. She ignores it. “I meant, King, that I think there’s something romantic in every aspect of life, even in a poorly lit, dirty bar at 3 am.” She gestures a lot with her hands, tripping over her words, but King knows exactly what she’s talking about.

“You mean you romanticize everything?” King offers, and sees how Angel’s face lights up in recognition and exclaims that yes, that’s the word. She’d forgotten it for a second.

“Downsides of being bilingual, you forget words in both languages,” she laughs, and it occurs to King that this is the first time she’s heard her laugh, not just giggle. It’s beautiful.

“I didn’t know you’re bilingual,” King comments instead, realizing how little she knows about Angel.

Soon they’re wrapped up in a conversation about themselves, in which she learns Angel was born and raised in Mexico until she was seventeen, that she has a major in Physical Education, but realized sooner than later that she doesn’t have enough patience with kids to be a teacher, that she’s able to hide her accent, but it slips out when she has to pronounce difficult words.

They talk and talk and talk, until King can’t keep delaying it anymore and they have to close the place.

Before she gets in her car, Angel stands on her tip toes and kisses King on each cheek as a goodbye. King feels her face burn for the rest of the day.

*

That night, she dreams of kissing Angel in her emerald green dress and wakes up disappointed it wasn’t true.

It’s the inexplicable disappointment that alarms her and makes her shoot a text to the group chat, after thinking about it for hours, saying she has something she needs to talk about. Their answers were normal, until Yuri replies “Does it have to do with Angel?”, and suddenly Mary and Mai were inviting themselves over to her apartment, with Yuri arriving some minutes after them.

“If I weren’t so tired, I’d kick all of you out,” King says as she falls on the couch next to Mary.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve heard that before. Now, spill. Who’s Angel?” Mary inquires, excitement dripping from her tongue as she leans on King’s side.

King opens her mouth to reply, but Yuri gets ahead of her: “Illusion’s new hot bouncer that’s totally into her!”

“We’ve been over this, she’s flirty with everyone!” King defends herself just as her friends’ voices start to get louder and louder. “Besides, she’s seeing someone else!”

“Keyword seeing,” Mai points out. “She’s not even dating them, which means you may have a chance with her.”

“Girl, what chance? I can’t, she’s an employee. She just happens to be… Stupidly, distractingly hot.” King groans, covering her face with her hands. She has eyes and they function, she’s very well aware that Angel is a gorgeous woman and, as if it wasn’t enough, her looks aren’t even the best part of her; it’s the playful banter, the flutter of her eyelashes that create tornadoes on people’s stomachs, and her toothy smiles that shine brighter than the sun during summer.

She’s almost like a dream, one King can’t allow herself to want.

It’s not only that King is her boss, it’s that all of her significant relationships crashed and burned in the most painful ways, she’s not sure if she can allow herself to go through that again. It took a long time for her and Ryo to go back to normal, and even then, it was never the same again.

“Well, what’s wrong with having sex with your employee? A little power imbalance can be hot sometimes,” Mai says, looking at her friends for support, but ends up gaining a cushion thrown to her face.

“I mean, it’s not ideal, but if you realize that you like her too much, why not give it a shot?” Mary tries to save Mai’s statement, but King tenses at her words.

“I never said I like her,” King is quick to defend herself, “I just said she’s hot, which is so fucking true. Yuri, tell ‘em.”

“Yeah, that much is undeniable. She won the genetics lottery, that’s for sure. But—” Yuri lifts a finger, and King knows what comes next, so she closes her eyes and wishes she could melt into the sofa, “—you did ask her to be your fake girlfriend at Ryo's wedding, and we’ve all seen The Proposal, we know how this is going to end.”

Mai and Mary’s shrieks make her jump out of her skin. She’s never hearing the end of this.

*

The following days, Mary, Mai and Yuri come to visit her at Illusion solely to meet the silver haired bouncer they hadn’t paid much attention to until then. They say what she knows already; she’s pretty, she’s buff, and looks really nice.

“I think she’s perfect for you!” Mai exclaims, and King hates the way it makes her heartbeat accelerate that her friends like Angel.

*

It’s the Tuesday before the weekend of Ryo’s wedding, and Angel comes by King’s office before opening time to insist, once again, that they need to settle on a storyline beforehand.

“I can improvise really well, if you give me an idea to go by,” she tells her, and King tries to roughly remember when was it that this little white lie started.

“We’ve been together for a year and a half,” she says, tapping her fingers against the desk. “We met… I don’t know, where did we meet?”

“At South Town’s museum,” Angel replies almost right away, like she’s been thinking about it for some time now. It doesn’t make King’s heart flutter, shut up. “I approached you because you dropped your wallet somewhere, and then I noticed you were cute, so I started to flirt with you. You flirted back, gave me your number, rest is history.” King whistles, impressed at the storyline she just came up with – though, it’s fair to assume that it isn’t a spur of the moment thing.

She says nothing about it.

“Wow, that’s… impressive. You watch a lot of romcoms?” She tries to sound playful, but she comes off as awkward instead. Angel giggles either way, nodding.

“And I read a lot of romance books, too. That’s the plot of one book I’m reading, actually,” she comments, leaning further on the table, her tone suddenly too perky. King places her chin on the palm of her hand and happily lets her chat about whatever she wants, listening to her as if she’s the most interesting person in the world (she is).

*

“You know, I realized I don’t know much about you,” Angel thinks out loud, her legs swinging back and forth in the air, sitting yet again on the countertop.

It’s Wednesday and they close early because, well, not many people come to the bar to get drinks in the middle of the week—not while it’s still spring, at least. King’s already accepted there’s nothing she can tell Angel to prevent her from sitting on the countertop, but it’s not like she cares that much either.

“There’s not much to know about me,” King replies, wiping some glasses and trying to avoid Angel’s inquisitive gaze.

“Agree to disagree. Like, c’mon, you’re the most interesting person around, even if I only know basic level stuff about you; like, you’ve owned this place for years now and you’re only twenty-eight, you’re French, you know martial arts, you have a degree in Literature…” She stops for a second, staring at a spot on the wall, and then she turns to look at King with a slight frown on her face. “Wait, actually, now that I think about it, I don’t know your real name.”

Yes, that’s intentional, King thinks. She chose to be King to leave Fleur alone, to distance herself from the stupid things she’d done when she was younger, but when it was all over and everyone knew King instead of Fleur – well, it just felt natural not to go by that name anymore.

She hesitates for a second, wondering if she should keep the mystery or just tell her. Part of her wants to hear how the word roll off Angel’s tongue, but she also knows that’s much more intimacy than she can allow herself, so she does what she does best and deflects it.

“That’s because my real name is King and I’m the heir to some faraway kingdom,” she jokes, hoping that’ll distract her, and when Angel giggles she sees her opportunity to change the topic. “Ask whatever you want, baby, and I’ll answer.” She only notices that the pet name slipped out when Angel’s lips curl in a small smile and she casts her eyes down, suddenly looking shy.

King doesn’t try to correct herself, though.

Chapter 2: love slipped beyond your reaches

Notes:

look. look. i am very aware that this is very late, but also in all of these months i couldn't bring myself to finish the rest of the fic, so maybe posting what little i have left will force me to wrap this up. anyways. i know this fic and pairing is for me only, but i hope if anyone is reading, you enjoy this chapter. cheers.

Picking up Angel is an adventure in and of itself.

Angel's dad, Javier, answers the door, inviting her inside for a cup of coffee while they’re waiting for Angel to come down. King politely turns down the offer, but Angel's mother spawns out of nowhere either way with a cup of coffee in her hands, and suddenly King is awkwardly trapped in a tiny living room while Angel yells from the second floor that she's almost done with her make-up.

Her parents are nice, for the most part, but they make King feel as if she was back in High School and waiting for her prom date to appear, enduring a questionnaire that feels more like a police interview than small talk. 

Luckily, almost ten minutes after her arrival, Angel springs down the stairs and saves her from her parents.

“Papi, I could hear you making King uncomfortable from the second floor! I told you to behave!” She scolds her father, who replies something in Spanish that makes Angel roll her eyes. “You're impossible. C'mon, King, we're gonna be late.”

“Honey, wait! I want to take your picture,” Sara, Angel's mom, says while fetching her phone. 

“Uh uh, I know you, mami, you're gonna post them on Facebook before we arrive at the venue.”

“But you and your girlfriend look so cute! The family would love to see you together.”

King and Angel share a look as soon as the word slips from Sara's mouth. Angel grabs her wrist and drags her outside before anyone can say anything else, bidding her parents goodbye and telling them not to wait up for her.

They don’t really look at each other for a long moment during the car ride, until Angel decides to break the silence.

“I tried to explain to my parents what our… deal is. But it got lost in translation,” she says, shrugging. “Now they’re convinced we’re dating.”

King just hums in acknowledgment, because what is she supposed to say? Angel should’ve told her what to expect, it would’ve saved her the awkwardness. 

She looks at her out of the corner of her eye, suddenly realizing she hadn’t had the time to process her appearance; there’s nothing about it that’s not meticulously crafted. The big golden jewelry, the neutral eye make-up paired with statement red lip, the rings on her fingers, the sparkly emerald dress—she looks like a dream, too good to be true.

King grips the steering wheel a little too tightly. “You look beautiful,” she says, a little too breathy for her liking. The smile Angel gives her shines as bright as the gold hanging from her ears.

“That's high praise coming from the most gorgeous woman to ever go to her ex's wedding,” she compliments her back, gaining a cackle and a blush from King.

She didn't even put that much effort on her appearance; King fished out a pale blue, floor length dress with a side slit from the back of her closet, she doesn't even remember when was the last time she wore it. Her makeup and accessories aren't as thought out as Angel's, having decided to go for minimal jewelry and a more natural make-up.

Still, Angel is looking at her with nothing but earnestness, meaning every word she said, and King tries to ignore the twist in her stomach. 

She gulps. It’s going to be a long night.

*

Angel stays glued to her side throughout the entire night. She wraps her arms around King’s bicep and doesn’t let go unless it’s necessary. King has a passing thought that this feels almost too natural, as if this is the way things have always been—Angel hanging off her arm, King's hand firmly placed on Angel's hip—and the void it causes on her chest is one too familiar, but she tries, for all that's holy, to push it down.

Despite what King may or may not be feeling, Angel plays her part with ease. She greets King’s friends with a polite smile that doesn’t nearly resemble the shiny ones she always dedicates to her, but she’s beautiful nonetheless. Makes easy conversation with everyone she meets, and sips on everything King offers her. 

When Takuma meets her, he looks even more surprised than all of her friends who she caught off guard with this scheme. Takuma isn't rude, but he does give Angel a side eye before he can properly talk to her. Before anyone notices, she has him laughing so loud people are now side-eyeing him. Safe to say she made a good impression.

(At some point, between meeting people and eating and drinking, Takuma pulls King aside and apologizes for pressuring her into reuniting with Ryo. “I understand now, King, why you wouldn't do it. I wouldn't leave Angel either,” he says, and it's so earnest and soft King thinks she might punch the man.)

When they meet Ryo and Kasumi, she doesn’t feel the pit of dread she felt when Yuri delivered the envelope—if it has to do with the fact Angel is resting her chin on King's shoulder, that's between King and god. 

Kasumi is radiant, she looks at Ryo like he’s the reason the sun rises every morning, and the love that drips from her tongue is so sickeningly sweet King has to put down her fruity drink. Ryo looks at his bride like she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes upon, and doesn’t let go of her hand for one second.

Ryo greets Angel enthusiastically, chastising King in the process for not introducing them sooner. King just shrugs, offering a half-hearted apology.

“I love your dress! It’s such a vibrant color,” Kasumi compliments Angel, and Angel does a little twirl to show off, giggling as she does so. King thinks back to Angel’s text, and to say she succeeded is an understatement; she sticks out in the sea of muted beiges, baby pinks and the occasional black dress. 

“Yours is not so bad, too. You look gorgeous,” she says excitedly, and soon they get into a conversation as if they were old friends instead of practically strangers. That’s Angel’s thing, she supposes.

Soon Ryo and Kasumi are off to keep greeting their guests and Angel smiles up at King, “We’re doing a pretty good job, aren’t we?” She says, and King stills for a second.

Right. This is fake.

“We could be Hollywood actresses,” she jokes, but her heart’s not in it.

*

A while later she’s perched on the bar, sipping on a glass of sparkling wine while Angel is off dancing with Mary and Mai. She has a perfect view of them from her spot; Angel’s twirling in Mary’s arms, laughing loudly and doing that thing where she scrunches up her nose and squeezes her eyes shut. 

She would love to join them and have fun, but something shifted in her demeanor after Ryo and Kasumi’s first dance. She’s not jealous, and she doesn’t hate them, she just—wants that. Not with Ryo, not anymore, but deep inside her heart, she’s always longed for a fairy tale kinda love, with the perfect relationship that leads to the perfect wedding and a life in domestic bliss.

That’s the dream she nursed during her parents’ divorce, through the sleepless nights after she and her brother moved with her father to the States and Jean’s sickness got worse. What she held onto when she took odd jobs, when she dropped Fleur to be King and wondered if anyone would ever love her if they knew what she’d done. 

Ryo said he did, but his love wasn’t as exhilarating as King wanted it to be, wasn’t what she was promised. It was comfortable, but nothing more than that. The end of their relationship was something she saw approaching with terrifying calmness; their match wasn’t a good one, and it was better to stop forcing it.

And as she sees the devotion Ryo shows for Kasumi, how he seems to orbit around her like she’s the center of his universe (she is), she wonders where was that Ryo when they were together.

She shuts those thoughts down with a long, long drink of wine.

“Careful with that, boss, you’re still driving me back home,” Angel warns her, sitting next to her. King jumps a little when she hears her, but soon calms down.

“Yeah, I forgot for a moment,” she says with half-lidded eyes. Angel places her head on her shoulder, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. King’s heart doesn’t give a thud, shut up, it does not. 

“Did I ever tell you I hate weddings?” She comments, gaze lost somewhere in the room. King prompts her to go on, surprised by the statement. “I almost got married. We broke it off one month before the wedding,” she confesses, her voice so low it would get lost in the mayhem, but thanks to her proximity to King, she hears it very well.

Her eyes fly open immediately, wondering who in their right mind would break off their engagement to Angel of all people. It doesn’t make sense.

“Then why did you agree to do this?”

“Because,” she drawls, taking King’s glass from her hand. “I like hanging from handsome women’s arms from time to time.” Angel gives her a heavy look as she sips from the glass, and King feels the heat rising to her cheeks almost immediately.

No, stop that, she tells her heart, that’s beating so hard it might as well be heard from across the room. This is just how Angel is.

Angel is staring at her, eyes sparkling brighter than all the lights in the room. The way she looks at her as if she’s the most gorgeous woman around makes her stomach get tied up in knots and her hands itch to reach for her. She itches for this to mean something, anything, but the rational part of her brain is keen on screaming to not get her hopes up, Angel is seeing someone and she’s flirty by nature. And this is fake. So, so painfully fake. 

“I don’t think I can drive tonight,” she says, changing the theme abruptly, taking back her glass and finishing it. Angel blinks, seemingly disappointed.

“Don’t worry about that now.” She stands up, straightening up her clothes, and holds out a hand. “Dance with me? Pretty please.” 

King accepts her hand, and she’s sure Angel also feels the electricity running through her body when their hands touch, but neither comments on it. 

*

Somewhere in between dancing and drinking and trying to ignore the way Angel’s hands fit perfectly with hers, King has the horrible realization that she may be crushing on Angel. 

*

“G’night, boss.”

Angel smiles, turning around to open the car door.

“Night, An–”

King’s sentence is cut off when Angel whirls around and kisses her.

*

King doesn't think about what might happen next when she opens her apartment door and pins Angel against the nearest wall.

She's not thinking of the consequences when the clothes end up discarded on the floor and the bed creaks and creaks and creaks.

She's not thinking—she's feeling.

*

King feels like shit.

She wakes up to an empty bed and a hollowness in her chest that nothing can fill. There's a note left on her nightstand that reads, “Thank you for everything, I had to get home, it was an emergency. See you in two days, Angel x”. Yeah, “emergency'; that's what you say when you regret sleeping with someone and you need a fast excuse to leave without hurting the other person. King would know.

She feels used, feels like an idiot for thinking any of Angel's words or the flutter of her eyelashes meant anything more than some casual flirtation with no real feelings behind them. And now, she has to act as if nothing happened, as if Angel's perfume isn't clinging on her sheets and there aren't red lines all across her back. Because she can't fire her; not only would it be an easy court case to win, but she'd have to give everyone an explanation of what happened. That's the last thing she wants to do.

And that's without taking into account the explanations she'd have to give her friends when they ask about Angel, and the elaborate story she'd have to spin to make it believable that they had broken up because King is damn sure everyone in a one kilometer radius saw the way she looked at Angel—as if she was the moon itself and King was some kind of poet wanting to compose sonnets for her.

King buries her face in the pillow and lets out an exasperated scream.

So much for just one night.

*

King knows her friends are supportive, but she also knows that if she tells them what happened last night, it will take them a split second to weave some kind of intricate plan and/or a speech to give her a push to confess her feelings to Angel. Which she’s not going to do, no matter how many threats Mary and Mai throw her way.

In hindsight, it’s not that bad; there was never a relationship between them, to begin with. It’s just a stupid crush that was fueled by a bad decision, and now she can stop it before it gets too out of hand. 

She promises herself not to think of Angel anymore, takes a long shower to try and get her scent off her skin, cleans up the mess they left behind, and decidedly does not think of Angel when she sees the lipstick marks left on her pillows. It goes as well as it can go—and then she sees something shiny under her nightstand.

Of course Angel lost one of her earrings.

King stares at the earring as if it had somehow betrayed her itself. In a way, she thinks, it had; there shouldn’t be any proof that Angel was inside her room, and yet here it is. She grunts, deciding she’ll deal with this later, and throws the earring into her nightstand’s drawer.

During the first hours, it’s easy, really, to space out and forget about it. But soon her friends start to wake up around lunch time, discussing last night’s events on their group chat and playfully nagging each other, and obviously some of those jabs are directed towards King; they want to know everything there’s to know about what happened once King drove Angel home.

They don’t have to know King ended up starting the engine again after the first kiss, it’s none of their business if King raced her way back home, very possibly breaking a few traffic laws, but not caring about it in the heat of the moment, and most certainly they’re not entitled to the knowledge of how many hours King spent admiring Angel while she slept. 

So King silences the group-chat, because hell will freeze over before she tells a word of that to Mai and Yuri, and allows herself to wallow in misery for the rest of the day.

As Illusion's owner, King had given herself the day off after Ryo's wedding. She knew, even before the realization of her crush dawned on her, that there would be no way in hell she had any energy left to work her usual shift after such a night – which only proved to be excessively true.

It doesn’t help that Angel’s tagged her in about a dozen of Instagram stories that she’s only seeing now, or that all of her feed is about Ryo’s wedding and she can spot herself in at least one third of the photos posted all over social media, attached at the hip with Angel, laughing without a care in the world, unaware of the spin the night would take.

Dear god, what had she done?