At this point, Kahdreg paused to inhale, running a hand over their hair. They glanced over at Avicia, as if expecting her to say something, to interrupt. When it was clear she wasn't going to pipe up, they continued, "She's been getting more insistent and I just... I'm sorry I involved you. I saw an opportunity and took it, but it wasn't ok to put you on the spot like that."

Silence hung between them. Avicia stared at them, eyebrows furrowed as she disentangled her thoughts and Kahdreg's story. Again, she was reminded of the people being harassed on the street or at work, the people she'd treat like old-time friends or classmates to draw them away from unwanted attention. In a way, it was the same. Except this was Kahdreg's career and Kallinaera had sway in it. That thought alone made Avicia's stomach roil sourly.

When the silence became too much for Kahdreg to bear, they held up their hands and said, "I don't expec-"

But Avicia cut them off. "How long do we have to do this for?"

"Wha-what?" Kahdreg blinked, but Avicia thought she could see a relieved glimmer of hope in their eyes. As if she was answering their prayers. Which made sympathy ping in her heart, but she wasn't about to show that. Even if they were the victim of unwanted pursuit, they were still her smarmy boss that was insufferable to work with.

"If we break up, you'll be pursued by unwanted attention," she explained slowly and precisely. Taking a step closer to them, she motioned to both herself and Kahdreg. "So, how long do we do this for?"

Kahdreg opened their mouth, closed it, swallowed. Their eyes flickered to the floor, calculations running in their head. "Until the movie premieres."

"And how long is that going to take?"

"We have about a hundred days left of filming, then post-production."

"So, roughly how long?" Avicia's pressed her lips tightly together, shooting Kahdreg a look that said 'do not try to bullshit me.'

"At least a year," they muttered, shoulders hunched higher to their ears. "Probably more."

Shit. That was a lot longer than she was considering. A few months? Sure. But a whole year or more? Her teeth dug into her lower lip. It wasn't as if she was on the dating scene. Even if she met someone she actually wanted to date, there were workarounds. People in Follywood had open relationships, right? Though, Kahdreg might not want the scandal, if it got out. And that would put them back in the crosshairs of the pushy siren, if she even scented a chance.

"If I'm going to act like your girlfriend," she finally said, emphasizing she wasn't agreeing just yet, "how much is it worth to you?"

Kahdreg pressed their lips together, staring at her. Their gaze flickered away, brow furrowing as they seemed to consider her words. The heaviness in the air weighed heavier, paired up with an edge of 'wrongness' that came with plots to lie and deceive. Even if they were for a good reason.

When the silence stretched on a microsecond too long, Avicia stepped further back and asserted, "I'm not doing this bad romcom scheme for free."

"I'm thinking!" Kahdreg yelped, face flushed. They heaved a sigh, running a hand through their hair, loosening the bun further. "Ten thousand for every month? I'll cover dates or special events, places to be seen."

"And how exactly will you pay me?" Avicia pressed, crossing her arms. She had done some research in the 'girlfriend experience.' Not that she would have taken clients who emphasized discretion - since that usually meant they were cheating on a significant other - but knowing the ins and outs of being paid in such a way was helpful. Handy apps, tips and tricks, workarounds. While not aware of all of them, she was confident in what she did know.

"From my pocket or maybe high-priced gifts you can return or pawn. I'm not going to change your salary." Kahdreg shook their head. Well, at least they weren't going to try and get the studio to pay for their scheme. "You'll get the ten grand plus your regular job wages."

After a contemplative hum, Avicia lobbed another clause their way. "No groping and no sex. Kissing can be determined, case-by-case."

"I didn't expect any of that!" Kahdreg drew back, their nose wrinkling and hands held in a 'stop' position. She almost grinned at their reaction. Especially when her eyes caught onto the darkening coloration that bled across their cheeks and tinted their ears.

The whole day, Kahdreg had seemed confident and on top of every moment. Hell, they'd seemed like that from the moment they roped Avicia into the personal assistant role. Now, they were out of their element. Floundering and embarrassed. Faintly, she wondered if their attitude while shopping had been exacerbated, thanks to nervousness surrounding the charity event. Putting on an act of self-assuredness, convincing even themselves. It certainly softened her a bit more to her boss.

But, Avicia's business side was more in control than her bleeding heart. Pinning Kahdreg with a look, she frowned and sighed. "I wish I could have this all in writing, but that's probably not a smart move."

"One sec." Kahdreg replied, turning on their heel and tromping toward their room. They were gone before she could question them.

As they trod away, Avicia heaved yet another sigh, glancing out the windows. She didn't look down into the street or out over the city, though her eyes traced the buildings idly. No, her mind was pulled toward the potential drama of the situation. What would she have to do, to convince others they were dating? If they were found out, what sort of repercussions would there be? Though, she supposed, it shouldn't matter to anyone what kind of relationship they entered into. They were both adults and how they went about their relationship was no one else's business. So what if it was built on money and fake sex?

Well, Kallinaera would make it her business, Avicia supposed.

And the paparazzi, probably.

"Hey, I'm back."

Drawn from her thoughts, Avicia turned toward Kahdreg's voice, curious to see what they had retrieved. Her breath stuttered in her chest, finding them sans shirt. Her attention licked over their chest, the curvatures of their muscles and scars, a lighter shade than their skin. Heat teased up her core, realizing their nipples - a slightly darker green than the rest of their skin - were pierced with silver barbells. Without realization, her eyes trailed down their torso, until the waistband of their trousers put an end to her lookie loo.

Shamefully, the realization that Kahdreg was holding a sheathed dagger lagged behind her other thoughts.

Clearing her throat and trying to ignore the amusement that flickered through Kahdreg's face, she motioned toward their half-dressed form and the weapon. "What is all this?"

"This is an orcish Oath Lock," they explained, obviously fighting down a smile. With delicacy, they held the dagger out to Avicia, the sheathed blade encased in their palm while they held the handle out to the woman.

Her gaze shifted from knife to Kahdreg's eyes, somewhat uncertain. Weapons were a big deal in orcish communities. Just reaching out and grabbing one, without permission, could cause a slew of trouble. Once they nodded, she looked back at the dagger, reaching out to lightly touch the handle of the blade, leaning closer to inspect it. Painstaking and intricate swirly designs etched into the metal of the handle, cold against the heat of fingertip.

"Scars are important to orc culture. We all have a scar to designate our clan," they pointed to the scar at their lip, once Avicia looked up. Then, they gestured to their torso, littered with an array of scars. "And scars that speak of triumphs, failures, moments to remember.

"For an Oath Lock, the one making the oath - myself - allows their counterpart - you - to mark them. According to legends, an oath not kept becomes a phantom scar. Something the bearer can still see or feel, but no one else can." Avicia's gaze turned back to the dagger as Kahdreg's voice fell soft. The weight of the situation increased as she realized, from their tone, how important the ritual and scarring was to orcs.

"You will also keep the dagger, until the oath is fulfilled." With a swift and gentle motion, Kahdreg grabbed Avicia's hand, closing her fingers around the hilt. Just as quickly, they withdrew their hands from hers. The memory of how those hands felt earlier in the day, when pressing the dress into her grasp, and comparing it to now, as they urged her to take the dagger vibrated through her. She thought there was a desire to linger, an almost imperceptible reluctance to pull away, each time. At that thought, Avicia swallowed, shaking the thought from her head.

"So, you're going to swear, with some old orcish practice, to pay me ten-thousand a month to pretend to be your girlfriend?" Trying to forget the thoughts of tenderness, she pulled skepticism closer and shot Kahdreg a dry grin. Avicia used the dagger to gesture, her tone and expression still rather uncertain. "Or... what? What do you have to lose?"

Though she had meant to challenge them, she was met with deadly seriousness. They swallowed before answering, their features and tone sober. "Or I'll forever remember I failed to live up to the mark you chose for me."

Their solemnity took her breath away. Avicia stared up at them, eyebrows furrowed while her heart pounded in her chest. She still needed time, knowing this decision would certainly alter her future and was so heavy for Kahdreg. Grappling to drag in some levity, she lightly asked, "Is stabbing each other a common occurrence among orcs?"

For the first time since the charity event, Kahdreg chuckled. It was half-formed and tired, but a chuckle nonetheless.

"Kind of. Mostly, during fights. And during intimate moments." They shrugged, a smile threatening to spill across their lips. "Admittedly, Oath Locks are a bit dated."

Avicia's eyes widened, incredulity dancing along her words. "You stab each other when you have sex?"

Many of Bellamy Bluebell's patrons were orcs, but none had mentioned wanting to see her bleed. And she would have assumed that would be highly requested. Then again, it wasn't as if she offered knife play or scarification on her request list. A small part of her wondered how much some of her followers would be willing to fork over for such a commodity.

"Biting, mostly." Their smile twitched a little further, completely ignorant to the direction of Avicia's thoughts. "And we only during the really emotional ones."

Oh, well. The business side of her dissipated at that. It wasn't likely anyone would pay her for it, then.

Though, she tried not to feel so prideful over making them smile. Even if it was a wan grin. She also fought down a flush, working its way to her cheeks, when she thought over their words about intimate biting. Brief thoughts of teeth on her inner thighs or the juncture of her neck and shoulder teased through her thoughts, heat churning mildly inside her.

As Avicia fidgeted with the blade in her hands, she couldn't help biding for more time, trying to become comfortable with the thought of driving a blade into someone's flesh. "By the way, what pronouns should I use for you and when?"

"He/him when at work," they replied, their eyes on Avicia's hands. Her fingers trembled a little, realizing how intently they stared. Were they waiting? Or anticipating? Or were they prepared for her to decline the Oath Lock? "They/them in private. Though, I really don't mind if you stick with he/him."

"I figure this is something I should know as your girlfriend," Avicia primly replied, trying to gather up bravado. Something about her tone caught must have seemed off and Kahdreg curiously slanted their gaze at her. Ignoring their critical look, she took a step closer, their body heat teasing over her skin. Grinning up at Kahdreg as she unsheathed the blade, she purred, "Now, where should I shank you, boss?"

As Kahdreg gave a snort of a laugh, the warmth pooling in Avicia flared and her grin grew.