Chapter Text
Zelkov was in the bed of a gorgeous woman, and he had no idea how he got there.
Of course, he was aware of the series of events: Several months ago, Ivy moved into his and Kagetsu’s apartment; after a rocky start, he and Ivy found that they enjoyed each other’s company; they tumbled headfirst into a physical relationship; one night, she asked him to stay afterwards, and he had been sleeping in her bed ever since. So, yes, upon reflection, he understood how he got there. What he did not understand was why she wanted him there, and what exactly she considered their relationship to be.
It was early in the morning, and Ivy was still asleep. Zelkov had never slept well — or perhaps he had when his family was alive. It was hard to remember. Regardless, he usually used the time to work on his projects. Now, he used this opportunity to study Ivy’s face in the pre-dawn light.
She was beautiful. It was an incontestable fact. Whether she was wearing makeup or not, it was true. He did not care either way. She could paint her face like a clown if she wished to — though she would be scandalized at the very idea — and he would not care. But there was something about seeing her in this natural, unguarded state that he found very special. It was as if she was entrusting him with a secret — a side of herself that she showed to no one else.
When she woke, she would begin the long and complex process of fixing her hair and makeup and clothes as if it was armor that would protect her from the scrutiny of others. For now, Zelkov had the opportunity to see her vulnerable. She looked like an angel whose bangs had gotten severely mussed.
That warm, melting feeling he got in his chest every time he looked at her frightened him. It was too good. What if he became addicted to it? How would he survive the withdrawals when she left?
There was no question in his mind that she would leave. She was a remarkable woman: intelligent, hard-working, and born to lead. Not to mention she was heir to a vast fortune. Recently, she had been talking with her father — Hyacinth Aisley, the CEO of Elusia Enterprises — trying to patch things up between them after their falling out. He had been encouraging her to return home. It was only a matter of time before she moved out of the extremely humble apartment that Zelkov and Kagetsu lived in and back to the world in which she belonged.
As much as he wished to harden his heart and distance himself from Ivy, Zelkov found he could not. He did not want her to stop kissing him on the cheek before leaving for work or pointing out passages in her book that she found particularly moving. He didn’t want to lose the privilege of laying in bed with her, feeling the warmth and softness of her body against his.
As he was lost in thought about all of this, the sun had quietly climbed over the horizon. Ivy’s alarm went off. She rolled over with a groan to silence it, then rolled back to face him. She looked at him, still half asleep, and smiled. He took a moment to appreciate the vivid color of her eyes in the morning light. Ivy reached over to run her finger along a lock of his hair, then kissed him. It made him feel electric, and syrupy, and needy, and a thousand other things that he had never felt before.
He was in love.
He was filled with melancholy as he kissed her in return. He had tried so hard to protect himself. He had wisely kept his distance from her, but then Kagetsu had to come in and meddle with everything. And now Zelkov’s heart would break when she inevitably left.
“Is something wrong,” Ivy asked.
He touched her cheek. “It is only that I will… miss you.”
“We will spend time together after work. I’m sure Kagetsu has chosen something dreadful for movie night.” She smiled and kissed him again.
He took her kiss and wished he could hold onto it forever. But there was no use feeling despondent about it. He might as well enjoy this unlikely opportunity while he had it. He wove his fingers into her hair and deepened the kiss.
“Mm.” Ivy finally broke away. “You make it far too hard to get out of bed. But, as much as I want to lay here with you all day, I have to get ready.”
“Perhaps tomorrow?” he asked, trying to make it sound nonchalant and not desperate.
She sat up, suddenly looking uncertain. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about tomorrow.”
He sat up, with his stomach sinking. “What about it?”
“My father has invited me over for dinner, and… I would like you to come with me.”
Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t that. “Why me?”
Her cheeks turned red, and she looked away. “I — only if you wanted to, of course — would like to make this relationship… official. If you feel the same.”
He took a moment to process this. “Official…”
“If you want to keep this as something more… casual, I understand,” she said stiffly.
“No! I am simply surprised that it is something you would want to do… with me.”
“I… l-like you very much.” Her tongue tripped over the L.
“I… like you as well. So, if it is what you wish, I would gladly be… official with you.”
“Good.”
They both sat there, not knowing how to proceed in this new official capacity. Finally, Ivy slipped her hand in his. He held onto it as tightly as he dared, while she put her head on his shoulder.
“Boyfriend sounds so… juvenile,” Ivy said with distaste.
“Beau, suitor, paramour,” he offered.
“Terrible.”
“...Cavalier?”
She snorted — in an elegant and refined way, of course. “And I thought I had read too many old novels.” She nestled closer to him. “Hm, my gallant knight.”
“If you would condescend to be my lady.”
She laughed. “Very well. Allow me to grace you with my favor.”
She slid her hand against his cheek and turned his head to kiss him. He truly did feel graced. Why would a woman who could have anyone she wanted, tie herself to him? It did not make the relationship feel more permanent to him, but it did feel more solid and real — and all the more precious.
She pulled away with a frown. “I really must get ready.”
“I will go prepare for work and allow you to do the same.”
He slid to the edge of the bed, but she placed a hand on his arm.
“Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”
He bowed his head. “You have my word.”
Zelkov had hoped that Ivy would forget about taking him to dinner with her father, but Ivy was not one to forget things. It was fortunate that he had made himself clothes that would be suitable enough for a formal dinner, but nothing he wore would be enough to impress Ivy’s father. He went through the whole process of dressing as if it was for a funeral.
Ivy walked into his room wearing what had to be an absurdly expensive designer dress. She had sold a portion of her clothes to give herself spending money, but her closet was still overflowing with pieces worth more than anything Zelkov had ever owned.
She stopped fidgeting for a moment to say, “You look very handsome.”
“I would not want to reflect poorly on you.” He finished buttoning the vest. “But I still have misgivings about this.”
“Would it make a difference if I said that I was bringing you for moral support?”
It unfortunately did make a difference. He would do anything to make her happy.
Still, he said, “I am not known for my abilities to bring cheer to others. Kagetsu would be the one for that.”
“You are a bit more… reliable than Kagetsu. Besides, you are the one I… I am in a relationship with.”
A faint blush spread across her cheeks. Zelkov also felt a nervous excitement at this reiteration of their attachment. This meeting with her father would surely prove what a poor choice it was for her.
“Anyway, could you help me with my necklace?” she asked.
Ivy held out a string of pearls to him, and he took it. She pulled her hair out of the way, baring the curve of her neck and shoulder. He could not resist the temptation to run his face along it.
She hummed, but then stifled it. “You are not allowed to distract me right now.”
“Forgive me. It was not my intention.”
“Later though…” She glanced back at him as he circled the necklace around her throat.
“Whatever my lady wishes,” he said, closing the clasp.
She turned to him and smiled, then grew serious. “We should go.”
The Aisley estate was several miles outside the city, sprawled over acres of land and secured behind an imposing gate. Ivy’s grip on the steering wheel had been white knuckle for the entire drive. She seemed far more nervous to meet with her father than Zelkov was. He was resigned to his fate.
Rather than heading to the large circular driveway, Ivy took her convertible down a side road which ended at what was clearly a stable. She parked and turned to him.
“I apologize for the detour, but I cannot come all the way out here without seeing Belladonna.”
“Of course.”
He had heard many stories about Ivy’s champion thoroughbred. She had shown him countless pictures of the horse surrounded by ribbons and trophies from their victories in dressage. Belladonna was almost on par with Hortensia for things that Ivy missed from her old life.
Hortensia had apparently called Ivy a traitor and refused to speak with her after her falling out with their father. Hortensia would not be at this dinner. She was off at the Academy, Elyos’s most prestigious university, and too busy to attend. This was a relief to Zelkov. Meeting all of Ivy’s remaining family at once would have been overwhelming.
Regardless, he followed Ivy to the stable. She took off her white high heels and replaced them with a worn pair of boots from the trunk of the car. He simply made due and was glad that the dirt was hard packed, not muddy.
Ivy knew exactly which stall to go to, and as she approached, an ebony head poked out. The horse whickered as Ivy stroked her nose.
“Oh, Bella, I’ve missed you so much,” she said as she laid her head against the mare’s. “I wish I could take you home with me.”
“I am sure Kagetsu would be thrilled.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think I could get her up two flights of stairs.” She smiled ruefully and kissed Belladonna’s nose. “I wish I could go on a ride.”
“I am sure there will be an opportunity in the future,” he said.
“Hm. We will see.” Ivy looked over at him. “Would you like to meet her?”
Because Ivy was interested in it, he had read up on dressage and horses in general, but he had never actually been in the presence of one. He approached the large animal cautiously. He held out his hand, palm up, and Belladonna placed her nose against it. It felt like velvet.
“I knew she would like you.” Then Ivy sighed. “We should be going. My father expects punctuality.”
After a few more kisses and pets for Belladonna, Ivy walked back to the car and exchanged her boots for the heels. Zelkov dusted off his own boots as well as he could. She drove around to the front of the house — if such a grand building could be considered a house. Before leaving the car she pinned a fascinator in her hair, and looked in the rear view mirror to adjust it.
“There. Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Zelkov followed her. A servant opened the door and led them through opulent hallways until they reached a comparatively modest dining room. Mr. Aisley was sitting at the head of the table, but stood when they entered. Ivy stiffened at the presence of a fourth person, a beautiful woman with long platinum blonde hair and a scandalous dress. Ivy hid her distaste behind the polite mask that she had so often used on Zelkov when they first met.
“Ivy, how good to see you again,” said Mr. Aisley.
There seemed to be genuine warmth and sincerity in her father’s voice as he gave her a hug. She closed her eyes as she returned it.
“Hello, Father,” she said as she let go.
“And Zelkov.” Mr. Aisley shook his hand. “How interesting to see you here.”
The man had shrewd eyes the same color as Ivy’s. Zelkov met his gaze.
“It is interesting to be here.”
“Do you two… know each other?” she asked incredulously.
This had been the moment he was dreading. “You are aware that I work for Elusia Enterprises.”
“Well, yes, but I thought you were some kind of handyman.”
“He’s the only one who can get the espresso machine on the executive level to work correctly. Whenever something needs to be fixed, I ask for Zelkov. Some days it seems he’s the only competent employee at EE,” said Mr. Aisley. “However, I was very… surprised to find you living with him.”
“And how did you happen to find out?” Ivy’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe I mentioned who I was living with.”
“Did you really expect me to just let you go off and live by yourself in the slums without keeping track of you?”
“It is not a slum. But more importantly, you’ve been spying on me?”
She shot a suspicious glance at Zelkov. He shook his head, denying his involvement. He should have properly explained the situation beforehand. At this point, he might not get the chance.
“I have been keeping track of you,” said Mr. Aisley. “That’s all. You know how much I care about my little princess.”
Her shoulders slumped the slightest bit. “Yes, Father.”
“Come and eat.”
They were served several courses of elegant dishes with complex flavor profiles. Zelkov would have liked to talk to the chef, but knew he would not get the opportunity. He tried to take mental notes of the food rather than dwell on what method Ivy would use to break up with him.
His input was certainly not needed in the conversation that the other three were having. It was all about the rise and fall of stocks, meetings with famous names, and some piece of property that Mr. Aisley had recently sold, interspersed with rants about Morion Brody. The other woman, who had been introduced as Zephia, seemed to encourage these.
Zelkov could not gauge Ivy’s mood. At this point he was usually able to, but she was giving very mixed signals. She conversed smoothly, but her posture was rigid and her hands clenched under the table when they were not busy handling her knife and fork. She did not quite meet anyone’s eye, including and especially his.
After an eternity, the meal was over. Mr. Aisley escorted them to the front entrance with its sweeping staircase.
Zephia did not accompany them, so Ivy took the opportunity to say, “How can you possibly be involved with that woman, Father? She’s Sombron’s secretary.”
He waved it off. “I’m not a fool, Ivy. I can keep business and pleasure separate."
“You have a poor track record with that,” she muttered.
“Since you bring up relationships,” he replied. “You need to cut it off with Zelkov.”
“What?”
“He’s good at his job. I actually like him,” he said as if Zelkov was not there. “But you cannot be seen with an ex-felon.”
“The crimes were committed while I was a minor. My record was expunged,” he weakly defended himself.
“That doesn’t matter to me or the tabloids.” Mr. Aisley waved it off. “Ivy, come home. You’ve had your fun. If you don’t want to live here, then take the apartment in Destinea. Find someone respectable to settle down with. Don’t waste your potential on this ridiculous rebellion.”
It was all exactly what Zelkov expected to hear. It was the logical thing for Ivy to do. She closed her eyes, then reopened them.
“You’ve always been proud of me and supported me — as long as I followed the path that you laid out. I am making my own choices now. And we are leaving.”
Her father tried to say more, but she turned and walked out the door with Zelkov following in her wake. She barely gave him time to get in the car before driving off. They rode in silence for a while as he tried to find the words to explain himself. Hard conversations were not his strong suit.
“So,” she said eventually. “Were you spying on me for my father the whole time?”
“Of course not. I had assumed you knew he was keeping tabs on you. Did you truly think you, of all people, could run away from home, and he would make no efforts to find you?”
She did not say anything, but frowned and tapped her manicured nails against the steering wheel.
“But,” he continued. “You have my sincerest apologies. I should have told you I was in direct contact with your father. When he discovered that you and I were… living together, he began asking after you. I simply told him that you were well. He was confident that you would give up on this foolishness and go back home.”
“Hm. I would have appreciated you being more forthcoming about that,” she said icily. “Also about the fact that you have a criminal record.”
He looked out the window. “As I said, it was expunged.”
There was a long pause. “I must admit that it didn’t surprise me. Panette once alluded to things of that nature. But I would have preferred to learn more of your past from you.”
He felt a flash of annoyance at Panette for revealing his secrets, but really they were not secrets. Just things he wished to remain buried.
“They are not things I like to talk about.”
“...I understand.”
“But I will try to be more forthcoming if…”
“If?”
“If you wish to continue this foolishness and stay with me.”
“...I suppose I am not ready to give up on it just yet.” She was quiet for a moment as streetlights flashed by. “Perhaps it is a bit hypocritical of me to be upset with you for keeping secrets. If you hadn’t figured it out on your own, I have no idea when or how I would have told you I was Hyacinth Aisley’s daughter.”
“We are not naturally forthcoming people.”
“No. We will have to work on that together.”
Together. Once again she was reaffirming their status as a couple. She had forgiven him for his misstep. He had been steeling himself for the blow this whole time, and it had not come. He did not quite know what to do with himself.
“It would probably be wise for me to quit my job,” he said after a while.
Her face fell. “Oh… yes…”
“It is no matter. My only requirements for work are that I do not do the same thing every day, and that I am not forced to interact with… the public.”
“Have you thought about selling the things you make?”
“Being a craftsman and being a salesman are two different things, and I have no particular interest in the latter,” said Zelkov. “However… if it comes to it, I could. I will not fail to pay my share of the expenses.”
“Don’t worry about that. Please. I can help. It is because of me that you’re being put in this position.”
“Do not blame yourself.”
Ivy said nothing, but slumped down into the seat.
When they got back to the apartment, Kagetsu leapt off the couch.
“How did it go?”
Ivy glanced at Zelkov. “It… could have gone better.”
“Oh? What happened?” asked Kagetsu.
“Mm,” was Ivy’s reply. “I’m going to change.”
“I will as well.”
He was sure that Kagetsu would love to learn every single thing that had occurred at the dinner, but Zelkov did not want to recount it. He went to his room and looked at all the crafts, art, and tools in there. Was any of it worth anything?
He was sorting through the large collection of random objects that he had picked up at some point when he heard a knock on the door.
“Yes?”
“May I come in?” came Ivy’s voice.
“Of course.”
She stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. She was now just wearing shorts and a shirt. His shirt, to be exact. He must have forgotten it in her room. And then she had found it, and picked it up, and put it on because… His brain stalled out there. He had been so prepared for Ivy to leave him that he was thrown off by her behavior.
“I thought you were going to change,” she said.
He looked down to find that he was still wearing the suit. “Oh. I was distracted.”
“I only wanted to ask… if you were going to come to bed. I know it’s a bit early for you, but…”
“You want me there?”
“I do,” she said softly.
“Then let us go.”
He took off his tie, vest, and boots before following Ivy to her room. There he took off his shirt and pants. When she curled up in the bed, he laid down facing her. She had already removed her makeup and gone through her arduous skin care routine. He must have been sorting through his collection for longer than he thought. It was a shame, really, that she felt she had to put so much work into being perfect when she already was.
She was studying his face as he studied hers, and he wondered what she found there.
“It has been a long day,” she said. “I just want to… ah… how do I put this?” She gathered her thoughts. “I would like to… ‘cuddle.’ With you.”
“If that is what you wish.”
He rolled her over and pulled her back against his chest. She settled there in his arms, fitting so well into the curve of his body. She put her hand over his.
“No amount of money in the world could buy this feeling,” she murmured.
“If I could hold you this way forever, I would,” he said, and meant it with every fiber of his being.