Vincent silently sobbed while Mortieu took his measurements. The man did not pass up the opportunity to feel Vincent up. Pervert. Cyrus grinned.

“I can take them instead if you wish.” He pointed out, and Vincent looked so conflicted. The dude who did this for a living, or the dude he actually knew. Neither, looked particularly interested in actually doing the job. I sighed, uncrossing my arms as I stepped away from the wall.

“I can do it.” I groaned, taking the measuring tape from Mortieu. “You go deal with Angelica’s.” I said, leading Gay Senior away from any men. Angelica choked on air from where she was.

“I do not feel comfortable with that at all.” She wheezed. Cyrus looked up at her plainly, his face rid of any bad intentions.

“I can take care of it then.” He offered. Angelica’s breath caught in her throat as she was coated in a red blush. CYRUS PLEASE NOTICE. I mentally shriek at him. He was killing the poor girl!

He takes her silence as a yes, and grabs an extra tape measurer from a draw. He knew where everything was. He unrolled it, and went to work, his face completely serious. He liked making clothes, regardless how horrible his fashion sense could be when it came to himself. Angelica looked ready to die, either of embarrassment, or happiness. She was steaming by the time he got to bust measurements. I held my hand over my mouth to hide the smirk plastered on it.

Cyrus got to work, no longer taking measurements. He had apparently assumed that taking the measurements meant making the dress. I turned to Vincent, ready to do my own job. ‘Thank you’, he mouthed gratefully. He looked ready to lick my boots at this point. I rolled my eyes, trying to refrain from snorting.

I dealt with the hip measurements, and Mortieu looked at me with anticipation. As if urging me to live his dreams for him, and grab the butt. I shook my head no, and the look on Vincent’s face was hysterical. I got my own job done, and gave wrote down the measurements before handing them over to Mortieu. He walked towards Cyrus, and the two chatted animatedly while still doing their job completely seriously.

I whistled, walking over to Angelica, poking at her with my elbow. “Did ya have fun?” I ask, my face full of mischief. She glared at me, her face red, but there was no hostility behind it. Nice. Vincent wandered over to us, clearly uncomfortable with Mortieu’s assistant undressing him with his eyes.

“How long will this take?” He asks us. I shrugged.

“Mortieu tends to make clothing for Cyrus and I in his free time. So we’re probably covered.” I mused. “A dress doesn’t take them too long to make when they’re working on it together, and they’re doing servants clothing nonetheless, so it shouldn’t take too long.” I assure them. They nodded, and Angelica eyed Cyrus curiously.

“Captain can sew?” She asks. I nod, a smile tugging at my lips.

“It’s one of the first things Mortieu taught him when we first met him.” I said thoughtfully. “He’s showered me with dresses since then.” Vincent turned his head towards me.

“How did you guys meet Mortieu?” Vincent asked. My face fell slightly at the question.

“Ahh. Um.” I looked to the side, avoiding eye contact with Vincent. “He found us after Cyrus’s arm was cut off. We were in the alleyway besides his store.” I tell him, clearing my throat. “He tied his arm off with a ribbon while he sewed the open wound shut.” I told them. “Cyrus’s screams had almost been as bad as when they chopped the damn thing off.” I rambled, thinking back to the moment. It was absolutely horrid having to hold him down while he kicked and thrashed at me.

Angelica and Vincent looked pale but Vincent urged me to continue. “You said something yesterday about… a dress?” I cleared my throat once more, as it decided to want to be dry.

“Uh, yeah.” I say, my voice cracking.

“Why?” He pressed. I was slightly irritated with him for asking.

“I don’t really feel like getting into that.” I tell him.

“Please.” He asks. Continuing to go on asking.

“Because of me!” I snap at him. And he stepped back slightly in shock. “Because I looked at a bloody store window, and said I wanted a stupid bloody dress, because I didn’t want to wear stupid bloody rags!” I yell at him, and his hand is frozen in place mid air. Cyrus looked over his shoulder at us, and his vision zoned in on me.

“What’s going on?” He asked, his voice defensive.

“Nothing Cyrus. It's fine. Go back to work we don't have all day.” I replied, taking a deep breath. He looked up at Vincent, the look in his eyes a warning. He turned away, with one more glance at me before getting back to work.

“I’m sorry.” Vincent murmured. “I shouldn't have pried.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” I snapped. I rubbed my temple. “I need some air. I’ll be back in a bit.” I called over my shoulder as I walked out the door and into the street. Once I knew they couldn’t see me I hunched over, my hands raking through my hair. My eyes burned, tears trying to fight their way over onto my face.