Just as Allura promised, the food arrived within the next 15 minutes and it couldn't have been more perfect timing. It wasn't until the savory scent reached Shiro that he realize how hungry he actually was. He was sure the rest of the crew was just as hungry. His hunger increased when he found out that the food was from his favorite Thai restaurant just a few blocks away.
After he made sure everything was ready for the final shoot, he made himself a plate and went to his office. Usually, he ate with his team during their lunch break but he needed to go over a contract sent by a high-end company seeking a collaboration with him. The contract wasn't due until next week but he hated leaving things to the last minute.
Also, he was terrible at reading business jargon. He swears that these contracts used tricky English to confuse and ultimately trap poor souls into a contractual obligation with unfair conditions. 3,000 suckers are born a day and he was not about to be one of them.
Just as he was about to enjoy his food, he heard Lance's voice filter in. Concerned about the temporary manager's tone, he peeked his head out of the doorway to see what was going on.
There Lance was, following Allura around the studio. The model's hair and makeup were the same as the last shoot with the exception of the vine circlet. Her flowing gown was replaced with a short pink robe and white, fuzzy slippers.
"'Lura, can you please sit down and eat already?" Lance sounded desperate as he tried to reason with her. "Everybody has food, I promise!"
Allura gave him a reassuring smile. "I know, Lance," she said as she walked past him with her head held high. "I just need to double check. All of these people worked hard today. The least I can do is make sure that everyone is fed." She continued to check every corner of the studio to make sure that every single member of Shiro's team, as well as her own, were enjoying their late lunch.
Lance was suddenly in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. "Allura, I personally made sure that everyone has a meal. Yes, I made sure there are vegetarian options. And yes before you ask, I did give the delivery boy a nice tip. Everyone is happy so that means it's time for you to relax."
Unconvinced, Allura looked at him with folded arms. She raised a brow. "What about Nyma?"
"Already on her second plate," he replied quickly, pointing her in the direction of her hair stylist, who was, as Lance had promised, on her second plate.
"And you made sure to order Hunk's favorite type of pad thai?" Hunk wasn't a picky eater in the slightest but she wanted to make sure that he didn't settle.
"He did!" Came Hunk's reply from behind her. Her bodyguard sat with a girl from Shiro's team. Her name was Shay if Allura remembered correctly.
The girl sat with her back towards Allura, giving the model the chance to give Hunk two thumbs up while she nodded enthusiastically at the two. "Ooh, she so cute," she mouthed silently towards him. Hunk's blush intensified before he nodded subtly.
Allura smirked. She was definitely going make sure Hunk got the woman's number before they left. Too ready to play matchmaker, Allura turned her attention back to Lance, eyes ablaze with determination to not mind her own damn business. "Lance. We need to ma-"
Lance held his hands up. "I know, I know and I'm already on it," he said, cutting her off with a smile. "I did a little research on her while you were rolling on the ground giving Papí Chulo bedroom eyes."
Shiro blinked. Was he Papí Chulo? Shiro took all 4 years of Spanish in high school and he only knew just enough to ask where the bathroom was in the politest way possible, so he didn't exactly know what Papí Chulo meant but his instincts told him that Lance had just called him a variation of, "Daddy". Allura's deep blush proved his instincts right.
Shiro groaned. Why was everyone calling him that? He didn't think he dressed like a Dad. Sure, he had his, "Dad" moments, but those were rare. And most of the time, he was right! Offense won championships, dammit.
"-and I know what her favorite flowers are." Oh, he forgot Lance was still talking. "Hunk is all set up for success. I'm the best wingman, and I got this, baby. Like I said, everyone is happy. Now it's time to take a brea-"
She interrupted him when she draped her arms over his shoulders with a smile. "You're doing a great job." She was stalling. "Have I ever told you that?" She was stalling and she was sucking up.
"Many, many times, Lu," he answered. He slipped an arm around her waist, turned her around, and led her to the waiting food. "You can tell me how much you love me while you eat. I already fixed you a plate."
She let out a low groan. "Okay, wait, just give me one second," she pleaded while she detached herself from Lance and quickly walked in the opposite direction. "I just need to make sure there is enough to bring back to Coran. You know how much he loves Asian cuisine," she told him.
Lance's hand shot out to take a hold of her wrist to keep her from walking away. "I ordered his food and had it delivered to his office already," he explained.
"Excellent work, Lance!" she praised him, while she tapped him on the chest fondly. "I'm starting to think that being a manager is your calling."
"Yeah, I think so, too. But apparently, the only thing I'm not good at is getting you to take a break," he told her. His tone was dancing on the edge of irritation.
Her eyes narrowed. She hated when Lance, or any of them, used guilt to get to her.
He let out a sigh. He knew that guilt trip wouldn't work against her. "Seriously, Allura. Tell me the last time you slept a full 8 hours?" He crossed his arms. "Go on, I'll wait."
She huffed. "If you must know, I slept quite a bit last night, as a matter of fact."
Lance threw his head back with a sarcastic laugh. The one he knew she hated. "Oh, the liiies you tell! Last night, you didn't go to bed until after 2 in the morning. How do I know that you may ask?" He pulled out his phone in a dramatic fashion. It was at that moment Shiro was positive that he and Matt would get along perfectly since they both apparently went to the Academy of being overly dramatic.
Lance scrolled through his phone as he searched for something in particular. When he found what he was looking for, he shoved his phone in her face. "Because your youtube video history says that the last video you watched as at," he paused to check the video's time stamp, "2:18 am. Pacific Time. It says here that you watched a video on calligraphy. Now what's so interesting about that?" he questioned her, slowly circling around her with his hand under his chin.
"Nice detective work, Lance," Nyma said dryly.
Lance winked at her. "They call me, Sherlock Holmes."
"I thought they called you, Mister Steal Yo Job?" Hunk chimed in between bites of his chicken.
"That's only on the weekends, Hunkules."
"It's Tuesday and you said that...maybe like 3 hours ago."
"Hunk!" Lance yelled offended. "Dude. My guy. Baby Boy. Hunkleberry. Stop."
Hunk held his hands up apology. "My bad. I'm just trying to clear things up. Continue with whatever it is that you think you're doing," he said before he turned his attention back to his food.
Lance looked back to Allura with a raised brow. He placed his hands on his hips and shifted his weight to one side. "So?" He raised a brow. "What's your excuse?"
She shrugged. "I needed to work on my penmanship."
Lance threw his hands up in disbelief. "What? Work on your penman- What? Are you kidding me? You must be because you write like you co-signed the Declaration of fuckin Independence. Every time you sign an autograph, I'm sure Nicolas Cage gets the urge to solve a bunch of bullshit riddles just so he can come steal it."
Yeah, he and Matt would be the best of friends.
"There is always room for improvement, Lance," she lectured him, purposely getting him off topic.
"See, that's what I'm talking about, 'Lu!" he said. "You're always...doing stuff."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of white peek out of a room to the far right. She made a mental note where the photographer was for later use. She smiled as she continued to walk the perimeter of the studio. "Well, of course, one of the many requirements of my job is to do stuff," she said with a laugh.
Lance felt his eye twitch. "You know what I meant. On top of you going to bed so late, you've been up since 6 this morning trying to get things ready for some meeting that's happening weeks from now."
She paused in her steps but didn't look towards him. "It's an important meeting," she defended.
"Yeah, a meeting that's happening in three weeks," he said blankly as he continued to count off all the things she's done wrong. By the way things were going, it looked like it was going to be a long list. "You said that you ate breakfast, but a single hot pocket doesn't count as a well-balanced breakfast. And it wasn't even a hot pocket, it was a shit lean pocket." His tone was disgusted as well as offended.
Allura opened her mouth to interject because he was wrong. It actually was a hot pocket. She just put them in lean pocket packaging so that the others wouldn't eat it. She wanted to defend herself but she decided against it. She'd rather keep her secret stash a secret even if it meant another drawn-out lecture.
Shiro took a bite of his pad thai then shifted his attention to Allura's team. Most, if not all of them, had stopped eating their lunch to focus on the model and her manager. They didn't look too bothered, but considering the fact that Lotor had lectured her less than half an hour ago about the same thing, he could tell this wasn't the first time they all went through this.
Lance took a deep breath to calm his nerves then he reached out to grab one of her hands. "Listen Allura," he said in a soft tone. "I know that you like to control everything that you can get your pretty little-manicured fingers on. I know that you like to make sure everything is perfect. And I know that you like to put everyone else's needs above your own, but you need to learn when it's time to take a break. An hour is all I ask for," he was practically begging her. He brought her hand to his lips to place a tender kiss on her knuckles. "Just one."
Allura looked at him for a moment before she sighed and hung her head low in defeat. She sighed. "I'm sorry, Lance. I'm being difficult again, aren't I?"
"You are," Lance and her team said blankly in unison.
Allura felt her eye twitch at the mass betrayal.
"Fine," she said with folded arms. Allura knew when she was outnumbered. She allowed Lance to lead her to her the food waiting nearby. Just before she grabbed the plate, she froze and turned around. "Wait! One more thing, I promise!"
The mass groan that followed was almost deafening.
"Allura."
The voice that spoke wasn't Lance's. It was Lotor's. His voice was deep, demanding and left no room for argument. Allura stopped and turned to face the man. He sat not far from the two with his legs crossed at the knew and his eyes narrowed. His own plate of food in his lap, untouched.
She folded her arms stubbornly and held his gaze for a second before she rolled her eyes. "Okay, Fine. Fine. I'll take a break." She walked heavily over to the table and lifted her plate and waved it around as if it were the white flag of surrender. "Are you all happy, now?" she asked with an annoyed tone.
"Yes," her team said in unison.
"No, no, no, wait, wait, hold up," Lance said as he continued to follow her around the studio. "So are you telling me that I just went through all of that to get you to sit down somewhere and Lotor just has to say your name all moody like and suddenly, you're all on board? What does he have that I don't?" He placed his hand over his chest. "Is my voice not deep enough for you?" Ironically, his voice was increasing in octave the more he spoke. "Is it his accent? I bet it's his accent. If it's the accent, I can totally do that accent." He started to clear his throat.
"Please don't, Lance," she told him, knowing exactly where this was going.
"Please don't, Lonce," he mocked her with a terrible imitation of her accent. It was trash and he knew it but damn his pride.
Allura narrowed her eyes at him. "Is that how I sound to you? Like some damsel in distress?" she asked. Picking up her chopsticks, she took a bite of her food. She frowned when her tongue met the cold temperature of her fried rice.
Lance snorted. "Don't make that face. It was hot when it arrived 16 minutes ago," Lance said, accent still as horrible as ever. He reached for her plate and dropped the accent. "Here gimme so I can heat it up."
She pulled the plate back away from him. "I can do that on my own, thank you very much," she told him quickly. Even though Lance knew she was teasing, his face fell at her response. Allura noticed his reaction immediately and sought to make it right.
She put her plate aside and rested her arms on his shoulders. "You know, I meant it when I told you that you were doing a great job today, Lance," she told him softly with a smile. "Everything is going absolutely perfect and I could not have asked for anything better." She took in a deep breath. "I know I am being stubborn and please forgive me for that. I just..." she looked away and caught her lip between her teeth.
He wrapped his arms around her with a smile. "It's okay, 'Lura, I know how you get. We all do. We just want the best for you. You like to protect us and believe or not, we want to do the same for you," he reassured her.
Grateful, she gave him a small smile. "I know Lotor won't admit it but you've made us very proud and I'm sure Coran would be proud of you as well." She smiled when she saw the way Lance beamed at her. She then pulled away from him and picked up her plate again. "Now excuse me. I am going to eat and take my hour-long break." She finished the sentence with a grumble and a roll of her eyes.
"Hey, Allura?" Lance called out after her. She turned back towards him and with a knowing smirk and a terrible British accent, Lance said, "Make it an hour and 20 minutes for putting me through all that bullshit." He kept his eyes on her as he backed away and gave her finger guns. He shot her twice with a click of his tongue and a shimmy of his shoulders. He quickly turned the corner out of her sight before she could retaliate with her slipper to the back of his head.
Shiro chuckled at the exchange between the two then he ducked back into his office. The bond she shared with Lance ran deeper than just employment. Their relationship was interesting but he knew they were being strictly platonic. He noticed that she was almost as playful with the other members of her team as she was with Lance.
To be honest, her team was just as impressive as she was. They did an excellent job at not only keeping the model up to speed but also making sure that all of the garments were picture perfect. And when they were done with their own tasks, they made it a priority to help Shiro's team with the sets. The two combined teams were an ideal match. In fact, they did their job a little too well considering the fact that they were way ahead of schedule. Every employee was working hard so the hour and 20-minute break would do everyone some good.
He took a bite of his food and he turned his attention back to the contract he'd set aside earlier. After the first sentence, he could already feel a migraine threatening at the back of his head.
He rubbed his temples. He liked to think of himself as a simple man, one who liked his coffee black and his whiskey neat. He was very straightforward when it came to business and he liked his world around him to imitate his lifestyle. This contract was anything but straightforward. It was a clusterfuck of words that he was sure that some snobby lawyer made up just to ruin his day.
He bit back a groan and reached around his draw for his reading glasses. Holy fuck, he was a dad. He groaned and once he had them on, he sucked in a breath and began to read it over again.
Absorbing the material was more difficult than he had imagined. It didn't help that every time he read over the document, the words would lose their meaning as he let his mind drift back to the model. He had never met anyone like her. She was gorgeous and didn't take herself too seriously. Unlike many of the models that he met over the years, he could tell that she loved her job and loved her employees even more.
She had the heart, the passion, and she definitely had the look to be a successful model. He knew that he would never get a shot with her. She was completely out of his league. Plus, he doesn't think that she would go for a one-armed vet with PTSD and a scar that claimed what was left of his good looks. If she had a type, he definitely wasn't it.
They only had one more shoot after the break and after today, they may never talk again. Deep down, he knew for her eyes would taunt him every time he went to sleep and her laugh would echo through his head at the worst possible moments. The ghost of her personality was sure to haunt him for the rest of his life and, well fuck, he was going to let it happen.
"My, my. Who would have thought that you would look so charming in glasses?"
Speak of the devil and she shall appear.
The familiar voice came from the doorway and her playful tone told Shiro that he didn't need to look at her to know that a smirk graced her lips. He turned in his chair to find her leaning against his doorframe. Her heated food in one hand and a mug in the other. Once again, he noticed that one of her shoes were missing. She did end up throwing it at Lance and now he held it hostage.
He laughed. "Charming, huh?" He watched her over the rim of his glasses. "My mom usually calls me handsome when I wear these, but charming sounds good, too," he said with a wink. Which was odd because he never winks. But she's been winking at him all day. He deserves to dish out a wink or two. Who knows, it might be his new thing.
Takashi, the Wink Master.
She cocked her head to the side. "Do you have something in your eye?" Or not.
His face fell and she let out a laugh. "I'm kidding, of course," she told him. "However, winking isn't your thing. I'm telling you this as a friend."
"I can never tell you with," his voice low as he spoke the truth.
"Tell what?"
"If you're just kidding or not."
"Oh, you'll know if I'm being serious," she told him with a smile.
He raised a brow. "Will I?"
Her eyes pierced his and she dropped her smile. "Absolutely." Her voice lost its humorous tone. Shiro felt like she had left something unsaid but he was too out of touch with her to pick up on it. Her eyes brightened suddenly. "Care to have some company for lunch?" she asked him.
He felt his heart skip a beat but still managed to keep his cool. "I see Lance managed to drive you away." He gestured her in with his free hand.
She rolled her eyes. "You have no idea," she said, entering the office.
She looked around the space. It wasn't the best office she's ever seen but it was far from the worst. It was very minimalistic if that were the right term for the almost bare room. If it wasn't for his laptop, spreadsheets, and other office supplies on the desk in front of her, she would have thought it was just another room. "Well, isn't this cozy?"
He let out a rich chuckle. "I'm assuming by 'cozy', you mean small," he said as he cleared the items on his desk so she could sit atop it since his extra chairs were being used by the staff. "I wanted my studio to have as much room as possible, so I sacrificed my office space for it." He didn't mind the tiny space and it wasn't like he was in here much anyway since he did most of his paperwork at home.
When he finished clearing the space, he took her food and drink so she could hoist herself up to sit on his desk. When she was settled, he handed them back to her and took his seat.
It was times like this that he wished he had more confidence. Here he was, with the most beautiful girl he's ever seen sitting on his desk and he had no idea what to say. Sure, he grew accustomed to her antics but she was usually the one to start the conversation, not the other way around.
What should he say? Should he mention the weather? No, that's what old people did when they wanted attention. What to do? What to say? Think Shiro, think.
"You're a fucking dork," she said between bites of her calamari. "Did you know that?" She crossed her legs and took a sip of her drink. She laughed at his shocked expression. "Do I make you that uncomfortable, Shiro?"
"What, no! You don't make me uncomfortable and I'm not a dork," he said in own defense. "I just don't know how to entertain people," he told her truthfully.
"Entertain? Are you calling me a child, Shirogane?" she questioned him.
"No, that's not the word I wanted. I don't know, I'm pretty…" he drifted off trying to think of the right word to describe himself.
"Bland?" she said to help him out. "Socially awkward? By the looks of this office, I could also say that you were basic."
"My office is not basic. It's minimalistic. It's a trend. You should look it up." He folded his arms and sat back with a satisfied grin. That'll teach her to call him basic. His office was not basic. His stapler was a nice shade of blue. If that didn't scream variety, then he didn't know what did.
She raised a perfectly arched brow. "Are you telling the supermodel to keep up with current trends?"
"I don't make the rules, Princess. I just follow them." He pointed to his outfit. "You see this shirt? It's a classic, long sleeved, black crew-neck from Old Navy's legendary 4th of July sale of 2014. I bought this at the absolute height of fashion. And before you ask, yes. Yes, it is 58% cotton. The trend is to wonder what the other 42% is made from. It's a mystery and mysteries are always trendy. Just look at Scooby Doo. That show's been on the air for 50 years and it's still getting reboots. See? Trendy." How he managed to keep a straight face, he had no idea.
She watched him in silence for a couple of seconds before she burst into laughter. "Yeah, you're totally a dork. Only dorks would say something as ridiculous at that." She continued to laugh and Shiro joined her.
"Seriously though, I'm not a dork. Dorks are different. I'm more of a -"
"A cutie," she cut him off and he swore his heart jumped just to punch him in the back of the throat.
Shiro felt his face heat up. "W-what?"
She pointed to the picture cube on his desk. The picture of his cat. "I said, 'what a cutie'," she repeated herself with a smirk. Shiro felt his breath leave him for maybe the third time that day.
Why was she like this? It was like her only purpose in life was to continuously fuck with him. If she keeps it up, she'll be the death of him. He'd gladly drown in those ocean blue eyes. And knowing him, he'd probably waste his final breath thanking her.
"Oh, that's my cat." While others might have a picture of their significant other or family members on their desks, Shiro had a picture of his cat. He had snapped her at her worst possible angles and framed it. Six times. One for each side of the cube. "She's a total sweetheart. She's just...big. And she purrs constantly, like a tiny lawnmower. Her favorite place to sleep is on my face. She's probably secretly trying to smother me while I sleep but that's okay. I know its out of love."
Allura cooed at his words. "That sounds absolutely adorable. What's her name?"
"Black."
Allura blinked. "You named your black cat, Black?" she questioned him slowly.
He shrugged. "You know how I'm really bad with jokes?" She nodded. That Catnado pun will stay with her forever. "Well, yeah, I'm even worse with names. It was supposed to only be a temporary name while we thought of a new one, but too much time went by and the name kind of just...stuck. My best friend calls her Thicc'ems. She answers to both without question. Honestly, if you have food and you give her eye contact, she'll come. She won't come running, but she'll show up."
She let out a laugh and Shiro could feel his heart melt. She pointed her chopsticks at him. "That's sort of kind of hilarious, actually," she confessed. She took a bite of her food. "Do you only have one pet?"
"Yeah, but she has a sister who belongs to my brother, Keith. He goes out of town a lot so I'll have to watch them both. But that tabby holds hellfire in her eyes."
"And what's her name?" Allura asked sarcastically, picking up a pea out of her rice. "Orange?"
Shiro kept his mouth shut and averted his eyes. Allura immediately caught on, "Oh Shiro, don't tell me…"
"...Red," he said awkwardly after a minute. "Hey, don't give me that look. You're judging me and my whole family, I can tell. At least her name isn't Orange," he told her. "That's just ridiculous."
Allura only shook her head. "So there's not only one dork but two?"
"Yeah, basically." He shrugged and took a drink of his water.
They fell into an easy silence for a couple of moments. He thought it would be as awkward as it was before but he felt at ease with her. She liked to tease him still but somehow it brought out his personality. Which was something he didn't normally do, especially not at work.
Feeling confident, he initiated the next topic. "So what made you become a model?" he asked curiously. He wanted to know more about her other than she was just a pretty girl. He knew there was something deep than that.
She finished chewing her food. "Honestly?"
He nodded.
"Spite," she said. Her voice devoid of any humor.
He furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?" he questioned.
She looked off for a second before she answered. "When I was younger, I was always told by other kids that I wasn't pretty enough. People think that America is fucked up with their racial issues, but Britain is just as bad." She took another bite of her food. "I was teased constantly. My parents did all they could to console me, but they're my parents, that's what they're supposed to do so it held no weight to me.
"So when I was old enough, I told my parents that I wanted to be a model. Of course, they were opposed to it. They were afraid that I would be rejected. They said that it was hard work, but I knew the real reason why - there weren't many models who looked like me. They just wanted to protect me and make sure I wasn't taken advantage of or heartbroken by the harsh reality of the fashion industry."
Shiro listened to her and it broke his heart. She was right, even today, there weren't a lot of models with her complexion.
"I went through a lot of rejection and discrimination over the years. I had to bring my own makeup to almost all of the fashion shows because the makeup artists didn't carry my shade and if they did, it was 8 shades too light. There were also plenty of times where I actually do my own makeup because they refused to learn how to work with my skin.
"Then one day, March 27th, winter of 2015. "She smiled as she recalled the exact date her life changed forever. "I finally got a my big break and landed a fashion show for one of the top designers in London. After that, my career blew up. I didn't become a model because I wanted too, I became a model because they told me I couldn't." She wore her accomplished smile like a fucking medal.
Shiro was blown away. "That's incredible. I guess they were right when they say that spite is the best motivation, huh?"
She laughed. "Yeah, I guess so." She took a sip of her tea. "I'm glad God made me this petty. Being in the position that I'm in, it gives me the power to encourage young girls and boys who were treated like me. I can show them that they too can defy the odds that are placed against them at birth. They can take that negativity and use it to better themselves."
Shiro nodded. "How did you come across Lance and Lotor?" he asked, completely wrapped up in her story.
"I met Lance while I was in Milan. He was the only makeup artist present and there were about 20 girls lined up, and he just...kicked ass. Every girl, regardless of their skin went out looking like, his words exactly, a bad bitch. I was immediately impressed with him, so I offered him a job. He's been with me for a little over a year now.
"And Lotor? Well, Lotor's always been around. We sort of grew up together. His father and mine are business partners. So I see him more as a brother, which I admit is quite weird since we pretend we're dating in the public eye."
Shiro let out a laugh. "Why do I feel like you two fought constantly as children?"
She smiled. "You wouldn't be wrong. We were the absolute worst. However, Lotor was always there for me. He would defend me against bullies and would even drive me to auditions when I didn't have a car. Lotor may seem like an asshole, and he is, don't get me wrong, because he most certainly is. But Lotor is a huge softie." She told him before she took a sip of her tea. "Did you happen to the see the girl he sat next to at lunch?"
Shiro thought back and he did recall the girl. She wore dark, baggy clothing and a hijab that covered her hair. Come to think of it, she stayed by his side all day. "Yes, I do recall her now that I think of it. She doesn't talk much."
"That's because she can't. She's mute," she clarified. "Lotor gave her a job as his personal assistant when he met her some years back. He taught himself and many others on my team, myself included, sign language so she wouldn't be left out of conversations. Lotor is a good person, he just has a funny way of showing it."
Her story about Lotor made him see the man different. He had no idea that Lotor would go through such lengths to make someone feel a part of the family.
Before he could start a new conversation, she started one for him. "So now it's your turn to tell me about yourself, Shiro," she said while she crossed her legs, one over the other.
"Huh?" He wasn't expecting that. He had asked her to share her story, so it was only fair that he returned the favor. No one has ever really asked him to talk about himself before. He didn't know where to begin. Should he start from when he was a baby? Or his hobbies? He didn't really have a lot. He liked to work out, but that's basic. Holy shit, she was right; he was basic. He scratched the back of his neck to buy time.
"Good heavens, Shiro. Here, I'll make this easier for you," she told him as she inspected the cat cube again. "Did you always want to be a photographer?"
Shiro felt his heart stop. He started to fiddle with the chopsticks in his hand. "Actually no. I didn't always want to be a photographer. I was…" Was. He took in a breath to even his voice. "I was in the military. Umm, I-I was a pilot. I was a damn good pilot. And I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. And I, uh, I was shot down and...and there was a crash."
Shiro's eyes grew distant. Physically, he sat in front of her but mentally, he was years away, at a different time in his life. He's visited this place more times than he'd like and every time he came back, parts of him stayed behind. Flashes on twisted metal and flames consumed his mind. He remembers his own voice, raw from screaming. He could smell h-
A light, barely audible tap came from one of Allura's nails when it came in contact with the hard porcelain of her mug. It brought him back to reality. His eyes focused on her face and she watched him intensely. He had no idea how long he'd be out. She had been in the same position she was before. No, wait. She was no longer holding her chopsticks. Dammit. He cleared his throat. "Sorry. I - uh, don't remember much after that." He didn't want to meet her eyes after that. He hated seeing pity in the eyes of someone who's heard his story.
"I am truly sorry that you had to go through that." Most people usually followed those exact words with a touch to his shoulder and or a hug out of pity. He hated it every time. As if rehearsed countless times, his muscles teased as they waited for her to invade his space. He waited for a moment and when she made no attempt to move, he looked up at her.
She was no longer watching him but she was smiling warming. There was no pity in her eyes, only a warm invitation for him to continue with his story. He didn't owe her his story. He knew that and she knew it probably more than he did. But something told him that he could trust her.
So he continued to speak.
"After the crash, I got an honorary discharge from the military because my body was no longer useful to them," he said in a bitter tone. "I went to therapy for about a year. During that time, my therapist suggested that I needed to get out more. And she was right, I couldn't just mope around my apartment with one arm like Buzz Lightyear when he found out he was a toy." Allura let out a giggle at that and he couldn't help but smile. "Side story: One year for Halloween, Keith convinced me to go as Buzz's lowest point, Mrs. Nesbitt. I had the pink apron, the daisy hat, and everything!" He laughed thinking back on it.
At this, Allura let out a full blown laugh and clapped her hands together. "Oh God, did you have the accent? Please tell me you had the accent?"
"I tried, but it sounded more like Austin Powers mixed with a shitty off-brand version of Mrs. Doubtfire. It was garbage, Allura. Pure Garbage. And I kept saying, 'baby' for some reason. I honestly don't know why I did that."
"But you had fun, didn't you?" she asked. "I bet all of the 90s kids were elated to see you portray such an icon."
He thought about it and yeah, she was right. It was the most fun he'd had since he lost his arm. As much as he didn't like to be the center of attention, he did it enjoy all of the laughter the costume caused.
He leaned back in his chair, visibly more relaxed than he was before. "I did, actually," he said with a deep laugh. "Okay, back to the story of my life." Unlike earlier, his voice held life that wasn't there just a few moments ago. He started talking as if he were telling a story about a trip to the grocery store and not the series of unfortunate events that lead him to her. "Anyway, my therapist said that I needed to find a hobby. There just happened to be photography classes held in the in the same building my therapist was in, I attended and I fell in love with it.
"Now, I won't lie to you, I didn't like it at first," he confessed. "I didn't find the thrill in taking sepia-toned pictures of lawn chairs. But I had already paid for 6 weeks worth of classes and it was nonrefundable, so I was in it for the long run. After a while, I started to see the beauty in things that I never saw before. It was amazing. It was almost like it had happened overnight. I started to see the world through new eyes and I never wanted to go back.
Allura nodded and she looked distant for a second, before he could blink, she was back to listening intensely to him.
"I started to do kid's birthday parties, then, later on, I started getting hired for weddings. Then, like you, I found by big break when some big shot company saw my work and hired me to take photos of buildings for promotional reasons. Eventually, I moved on from buildings to people. I started making a name for myself and the rest is history." He started to talk with his hands more as if they helped expressed his joy. Allura thought it was cute.
"During this time, about 2 years after the crash, I got this offer from this prestigious tech company. They pulled my file up from my time in the military. They were fitting soldiers who had lost limbs in combat with highly functionally prosthetics and apparently, I was the right build for it. That's where I met my best friend, Matt. He was a part of the team who helped design it. 27 hours of surgery later, I woke up with this bad boy." He rolled up his sleeve on his prosthetic arm and flexed his mechanical fingers for show.
Allura's eyes widened and he immediately put his arm away, hiding it from her view. He got caught up in the story and forgot that everybody just can't handle a sudden bombshell like that. "Sorry, I shouldn't have-"
"May you show it to me again?" she asked curiously.
Well, that's never happened before.
Slowly, he lifted his arm and brought it in front of her, as if he were afraid that she might react negatively like other models he'd photographed in the past if he moved too quickly. Keeping his distance, he watched her carefully for any sort of indication that she was uncomfortable with its proximity to her.
She huffed at how far away he was sitting. She set her plate aside and scooched over to get a better look. Her eyes shined with curiosity as she brought her hand up towards it. She stopped just shy of touching it and suddenly her eyes met his. "May I?" her voice was a whisper but just shy of a giddy child asking permission to touch something they really wanted. Other than Katie and small children who thought he was a robot, he's never seen someone so eager to see, let alone touch, his prosthetic.
He didn't trust his voice right now so he swallowed hard and nodded slowly. Carefully, she touched the cold metal with a delicate touch. He could tell that she wasn't afraid that he might hurt her but rather she was afraid that she would cross the line with him. "You won't break it," he encouraged her. "Go on. Do what you gotta do."
She beamed like the fucking sun. His permission was all she needed before she edged closer to him and lifted his hand up so she could fully inspect the prosthetic. She ran her hand down his forearm, traveling over the ridges and sleek lines and eventually grazing over his knuckles. Shiro knew he couldn't feel her touch but it didn't stop the shivers that raced up his spine.
"It's absolutely exquisite," she said breathless, completely captivated by it. She held his hand in both of hers and pressed her thumbs to the center of his palm. "It's craftsmanship is impeccable. Is it heavy?"
"No, not really," he said. "But the first few weeks or so, I couldn't find my balance with it. I'm used to it now." He also constantly crushed and knocked over everything like he was fucking RoboCop but he was going to keep that to himself for now.
"I see," she said. She leaned down while she brought his hand closer to her ear. "Can you flex your fingers?" He did what she asked and she smiled when she heard the soft hum of the gears turn within the machinery.
He couldn't help but smile at her reaction. He would have never thought that'd he'd ever be in a situation like this. He had a fear of rejection but she was absolutely fascinated by it. The eagerness in her eyes told him that she's been waiting all day to get the chance to see it up close.
Her delicate fingers began to travel upward. She stopped just short of his bicep. Her fingers grazed the edge of his shirt that hid the juncture where metal met flesh.
Her eyes met his again, silently asking for permission to venture further. He normally didn't like to let people see it because it was an absolute mess. He too hated seeing it. It was a brutal reminder of the man he once was. But he trusted her because surprisingly, this is the calmest he's been around her all day.
"Go ahead," he told her.
Her fingers grazed over his shirt before she carefully folded it back to expose the fused area. He couldn't watch her face for her reaction because he knew what it would look like. He's seen that face so many times, that the expression is burned into his memory.
He flinched when her hands touched his skin. Immediately, she drew her hand back afraid that she had caused him any pain. "No, do you didn't hurt me. Your hands are just cold."
That was a fucking lie.
Her hands were like fire and he felt his soul catch ablaze.
Don't do this, Shiro. Don't lose your cool. He told himself. The Lord was testing him but he knew he was a bad student.
"This is absolutely ingenious," she said more to herself than anything. "I would love to meet the person who helped design this. Matt, was it?" she asked him.
Shiro nodded. "Yeah, that man is an absolute genius. His only rival is probably his little sister." His was hoping that his voice didn't sound as strained as he felt.
She ran her fingers over a particular deep scar. "...It doesn't still hurt does it?" she asked softly.
"97% of the time, no," he answered.
"...And the other 3%?"
"It's agony," he answered truthfully. The weight of his words crushed her. He could tell that she wanted to do something to help but knew she was powerless against it. This wasn't her burden, it was his.
She continued to caress the juncture and he found himself leaning into her touch. It was then he realized just how close they were now. There was so many, "what if" variables that would have made this situation a whole lot different.
If it wasn't for the desk, she could have been in his lap inspecting him. If he had any feeling in his arm, he would have noticed sooner that it rested casually in her lap. If it wasn't for the position and the weight of his arm, then it wouldn't have made her robe rise up just a tad, exposing the smooth brown skin of her thighs. If it wasn't for the way her fingers danced on his skin, it wouldn't have left goosebumps in their wake. If it wasn't for the fact that she was perfect in every way possible, his heart wouldn't be pounding so hard right now. If it wasn't for-
A soft knock from behind him interrupted his thoughts. Shiro's head snapped to the door and Allura, rather than putting distance between them to save face from getting caught in such an intimate position, stayed put and discreetly rolled down Shiro's sleeve to his wrist. It only was his employee, Shay. She had seen his arm plenty of times, but there was something about the way Allura wanted to protect him. She knew she had his permission, but just in case no one else did, she didn't want him exposed. He was right - he could trust her.
"H-hi," Shay said shyly while she stood outside the door. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything." Allura smiled at how cute this girl was. Yes, Hunk definitely wasn't leaving this building without her number.
"No, you're okay. What's up, Shay?" he asked as he stood and approached her.
"There's a delivery here for you, but I don't remember us ordering anything recently. I just wanted to make sure to run it by you before I added it to the inventory," she fiddled with her fingers while she spoke and a light blush came to her cheeks. Did their positioning look that bad?
"Sure, no problem. I'll be right there to check it out," he told her. He turned back to look at Allura who hadn't moved from her spot. "I'll be right back. Anything you need from the kitchen?" he asked as he took their now empty plates.
She shook her head. "No, I should be fine. Thank you."
He discarded their paper plates and he went to check what Shay was talking about. Turns out, he did order a package. It was another lens. However, he had meant for it to be delivered to his apartment and not his studio. He must have used the wrong shipping address. He explained the mix-up to Shay and thanked her for asking for clarification before it went into their inventory.
He tucked the box under his arm and made his way back to Allura his office. Before he went back, he stopped by the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee that someone made just minutes before. When he returned to his office, Allura was reading over something. He placed the box on his desk and sat back down in his chair. He took note that Allura was just as close as she was before he left.
If she made no effort to put distance between them, then why should he?
She took a sip of her drink before she addressed him, "I know this company. My father used to do business with them," she told him as she scanned over the lines. "Be careful, they are known to be...less than fair. I don't want them to take advantage of you."
He let out a sigh. "That's what I'm afraid of. That contract is full of words that make absolutely no sense to me. It might as well be some alien language. Keith told me that I should hire a lawyer for these sorts of things, but lawyers are expensive."
Allura laughed. "That's exactly what they are doing with this contract: trying to confuse you. It's a tricky language," she said as she flipped the page over, "but I could go over this for you if you'd like. I'm used to these types of things. My mother was a barrister who specialized in international law and human rights and my father is a business tycoon. I was raised to read contracts."
"You don't have to do that," he told her even though there was a part of him that really wanted to get out of reading this contract.
"But I want to. I promise I won't leak any secrets you may have," she told him with a wink and she held out her pinky.
He smiled. "I just don't want Lance to come in here and find you working when he deliberately told you to take a break. He's gonna kick my ass."
"Can you can take him."
He sighed as he extended his pinky finger to lock with hers. He shook it once then leaned back in his chair before joined his hands behind his head. "Well then, by all means, be my guest, Princess."
While she read through the contract, Shiro went through his camera filtering out the shots that he was going to send to the magazine company and the ones he was going to delete. Considering how almost every shot was perfection, he had a hard decision to make because he couldn't just send all of them. He wondered if other photographers had the same problem with her as he did.
Suddenly made a noise that caught his attention. "Okay so, here is what concerns me. I knew they would try to pull something like this." Shiro put aside his camera and leaned into her, ready to give her his full attention.
She pointed to a specific section of the contract. "Here under section 6 of organizational expenses, it states that all organizational expenses shall be paid by the partners pro rata. However, pro rata doesn't make any sense, because you don't want to pay equally as the company when they are much larger and more capable of paying. It would be better for the partnership to allocate funds for the project and have the partnership pay the organizational expenses. With a reimbursement in place for what each partner expenses out of their personal accounts," she explained effortlessly as if she were explaining basic math.
She narrowed her eyes. "Also, I'm not sure if you want to agree with Section 4 allocation of profits." She held out her hand, "Lend me a pen, please?" He did and she started to circle numbers throughout the document. "See here? Here, it states that you will earn only 15% of the total profits. However, this doesn't make sense when you read section 2: contributions to capital of partnership. Where it states that you will be paying 30% of the expenses while doing the majority of the photography. It would be better for you to receive a greater share of the profits because you are doing all the work. You need to make sure to cover your expenses and make a profit off of the work."
Holy fuck.
Shiro stared at her with wide eyes. "Wow, that was amazing. You're way better at this than I am," he told her. She made it seem so easy and if he was being honest, he sort of dumb. She probably thought he was illiterate now.
"I told you, this is nothing for me," she said while leaning back with her hands flat on his desk. "I was raised around contracts." She narrowed her eyes at him. "And don't you dare assume that I think any less of you. This company is notorious for ripping people off. As long as you make sure you know what you're signing and call them out on their bullshit with the revisions needed, then you should be set."
"Thanks again." He smiled while he put away the contract for later. "If being a model doesn't work out for you, then you'd definitely make a kickass lawyer."
She laughed but it didn't reach her eyes. "And have my father say, 'I told you so'? No, thank you. Besides," she edged closer to him, "being a model is too much fun. I get to travel the world, experience different cultures, meet cute photographers…" she finished with a sly smirk.
He rose a brow. "So you think I'm cute?" When did he get so bold? She must be rubbing off on him.
"I've met many photographers in my line of work. What made you think I was talking about you?" she asked as she cocked her head to the side.
"I don't know. I got a feeling."
She made a pleased sound. "If I am being honest, you are fairly attractive." She cupped her mug with both hands before she took a sip. The tea lost its heat long ago but she still liked the taste of it.
"Fairly attractive?" he repeated. "What is that? Like a 5?"
Taken aback, she furrowed her brows together. "A 5? Shiro, on a scale of 1 to 10, do you honestly believe that you are a 5?"
He shrugged. "Okay, maybe a 4? Because of the scar?"
Her smile fell as she watched him for a moment. She then set aside her tea and leaned towards him. Reaching out, she cupped his face and used her fingers to trace over the deep scar embedded on the bridge of his nose. Shiro immediately found himself leaning into her touch again because he doesn't think he's ever felt hands so soft. He prayed to the good Lord above that his face wasn't on fire and that the pounding of his heart wasn't as loud as he thought it was.
Whatever spell she has on him, he hopes it never breaks because he's never felt like this in his entire life. Maybe because he's never met anyone like her. Just about everything about her enchanted him. The way her eyes would shine with mischief whenever she talks to him or the way her hair falls in celestial waves around her. Maybe it was how her intelligence gave her the confidence he wishes he had and the way she wasn't afraid to be silly. And...and there was something else...something important...but her soft touches were dangerously distracting.
She continued to trace on his scar with light, careful touches. Slowly her fingers left his nose before they ghosted over his cheeks and wandered down to trace his jawline before finally settling under his chin. A firm pull upwards forced him to look up.
As soon as his eyes met hers, she leaned in closer to him. For a second, he thought she was going to kiss him but she stopped just short of his lips and spoke softly instead. "Many scars fade with time and the ones that don't, they build character. They are proof that you have been hurt and they are proof that you have been healed. Most importantly, they are proof that you survived." All traces of her usual mischief was gone, leaving only her genuine response.
How long they had stayed like that, he had no idea. Then somewhere in the hallway, a whistle went off. Where Lance had found that whistle, again Shiro had no idea. All he knew is that he loathes it at the moment. Had it been an hour and 20 minutes already? Where did the time go? Slowly, Allura backed away from him and he immediately missed her hands on him.
She hopped down from his desk and stretched her limbs. "I suppose that's the end of our break. I'll see you shortly," she told him and made her way to the door. Shiro still sat there with wide eyes watching her as she walked away.
Before she left his office, she turned with a flip of her hair. "Oh, and Shiro?" Her teasing tone came back full force. Whatever she was going to say next, Shiro knew it was going to ruin him. "If anything, the scar makes you a solid 10," she told him with a wink and then she was gone.
Shiro could only watch the empty doorway. As he tried to make his heart stop beating so fast, he suddenly remembers what else he liked about her.
She didn't pity him.
He couldn't help the goofy grin that spread across his face before he went to help his crew set up.
