Unravel

by Revolver the Jay

After Blitzo makes him stay late one night to finish up some extra paperwork, Moxxie encounters an inebriated Loona in a vulnerable state. For once, he decides to set aside his animosity towards her and help her; little does he know that this one act of kindness will lead to his life and everything he thought he felt about his rude coworker being upended. Cover by CydonianHunter!

9. Chapter 9: Façade

34

Chapter 9: Façade

Loona growled, furiously tapping away on her phone screen with her thumbs as she typed out a slew of insults at someone who'd replied to one of her Sinstagram selfies. They'd said something about what she'd done with her eyeliner, that it wasn't dark enough to contrast against her fur. To any other person it would seem like an honest critique of her makeup job, but Loona knew better; she saw through these types of people so easily. "Honest critique?" It was more like they were using "critique" as an excuse to tear her down and make her feel like shit about her looks. So, instead of letting it go and moving on, Loona called them out on their bullshit, kicking off a massive argument going back-and-forth for several dozen posts and devolving from any sort of attempt at meaningful critique into insults.

When the other person let their mask slip and hurled their first insult at her, she knew she was fucking right from the start. It totally wasn't because she'd been provoking them into it for nearly half an hour; if they were being genuine, they would've just left her the fuck alone by now.

She slammed her phone down on her desk with nearly enough force to break it before snatching the nearly-empty bottle of whiskey on her desk, unscrewing the cap, and dumping what little was left into her mouth. She appreciated the burning sensation cascading down her throat, but it didn't last nearly long enough for her liking. She tossed the empty bottle into the trash can next to her desk and bent down to grab another from the mini-fridge under her desk, opening the door and reaching in to grab another bottle.

Unfortunately, much to her chagrin, her hand was only met with cold, empty space. Extremely pissed off at discovering her lack of alcohol, she withdrew her hand and snarled in annoyance, impulsively grabbing her phone off her desk and chucking it across the room to vent her rage. She crossed her arms and sunk down into her chair as she watched it bounce a few times across the floor before eventually landing just shy of the front door.

Bzzzz.

The phone's screen lit up, displaying an alert from her texts. Loona rose from her chair, stomped across the room, and bent down to pick it up. It was the text she'd been expecting from Blitzo for nearly an hour now, letting her know that he and the others were ready to come back from the job they were on.

Shoving her phone into one of her shorts pockets, she headed back over to her desk, grabbed the grimoire from atop it, and flipped it open to the bookmarked page with the portal spell they frequently used. She opened the portal with a quick wave of her hand, and as the circular aperture between dimensions opened, a sudden draft filled the room, blowing a few loose papers around.

But her eyes widened and her heart began to race as she watched Moxxie and Millie drag a nearly unconscious Blitzo through the portal by his arms. He was completely soaked in some kind of dark red fluid which, on first sight, Loona assumed to be blood.

"Blitz…?" She muttered, her protective instincts for him starting to take over.

"Close the portal!" Millie shouted at her. "Now!"

Loona immediately did as she was told without question, closing the dimensional opening with another flick of her wrist and rushing to Blitzo's side, kneeling down beside him and grasping his arm.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she whimpered, frantically checking for a pulse on his wrist and feeling his chest for breathing. "What the fuck happened to him?!" She shouted at the couple standing nearby, her panic evident in her quivering voice.

"He, um, fell into a vat of botched wine." Moxxie answered her.

"Fell into what?!" Loona's head snapped back to Blitzo and she took a few sniffs. Shit, they were right. It wasn't blood; it was, in fact, some of the worst wine that Loona had had the displeasure of smelling. Her nose curled up in disgust and she scooched herself back a few inches as the pungent odor just now hit her olfactory senses in force. "Ugh, fuck, is he—"

"He's fine," Millie interrupted her, anticipating her question. "He's just drunk as a skunk. Give 'im a lil' bit."

Almost on cue, Blitzo's eyes shot open and he inhaled sharply before coughing up a copious amount of wine.

"Hiiiiii, Looniiiiiiie," he slurred, his eyelids almost shutting again and a wide grin spreading across his face as he laid eyes on his adoptive hellhound daughter. "Yoouuuu really oughta try some'a this…" He hiccupped, causing more of the red fluid to leak out of the corner of his mouth. "… this shiiiit. It's fffffuckin' gooooood!"

Loona's look of concern immediately disappeared, her snout curling up into a snarl and her brown furrowing as her frustration towards him boiled to the surface. She growled and rose to her feet, giving Blitzo a sharp kick in the ribs before storming off back to her desk, feeling incredibly embarrassed at having gotten so… emotional about him in front of Moxxie and Millie. Blitzo moaned from the pain of the impact, but immediately began snickering from the numbing effect of the alcohol coursing through his body.

"C'mon, you," Millie spoke, grabbing Blitzo's arm again and slowly dragging him towards his office. "Let's get ya cleaned up, alright?" Blitzo tried to say something in response, but nothing coherent came out of his mouth except for a few giggles and snorts. Millie glanced up at Moxxie with an amused smile, shrugging to him as she dragged him through the door and shut it behind them.

Moxxie chuckled to himself as he dusted off some debris from the shoulders of his jacket and readjusted his bow tie. He strode out of the lobby and towards his desk; when he reached it, he collapsed down in his chair with a loud exhale, finally feeling all the tension from the job dissipate from his body. He leaned over to open the bottom drawer of his desk and emptied all the weapons in his jacket into it, carefully taking them out one at a time and arranging them inside the drawer by type and caliber. When he was done, he carefully slid the drawer closed and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and letting out a relieved sigh.

He closed his eyes and, for just a moment, hoped that he was actually going to have a little downtime after the hectic events of the past couple of hours.

"Fatty! Back in here, now!"

Crumbs.

Moxxie rose to his sore feet again to drag himself back towards the lobby. When Loona came into his sight, he saw that she was on her phone like usual, with her feet resting on her desk. However, her face was contorted into an expression of pure anger, with her thumbs alternately tapping against her phone screen at a rate that Moxxie had never seen anyone type before.

"Need something?" He asked, his tone reflecting his impatience with her for interrupting his brief moment of peace.

"Food," Loona growled at him, not even giving him the courtesy of eye contact as she continued to slam her thumbs against her phone. "Now."

"The usual?"

"Yeah. Also—" Without looking, she reached her foot down and kicked the side of the mini fridge, causing it to rattle back and forth for a few seconds from the impact. "—get this shit refilled. Chugged through the last of it right before you guys got back and I'm definitely gonna need more if this asshole keeps fucking pushing me."

"Any specific kind, or…?"

"Whiskey, vodka, whatever."

"Label?"

"I don't fucking care about the label, just get me the cheapest shit you can find."

Moxxie took a few steps closer, curious as to what Loona was actually doing. Leaning over a bit, he saw that she was typing out a massive block of text that was starting to take up more than half her screen.

"Geez, what'd they say to you?" He remarked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Dumb fucker thinks my makeup is shit."

"O–oh, well, I, um… in my opinion, I d–don't think it's bad at all. Seriously. It, um, looks… good?"

Loona froze and slowly turned her head towards him, her furious expression only growing more intense as she locked her fiery red eyes with his. Moxxie chuckled nervously under her attention and tugged on his shirt collar with a finger, the room suddenly feeling like it was a few dozen degrees hotter.

"I didn't ask for your opinion, dumbass. Get the fuck out of here and get me my shit already."

"S–s–sorry, I'll just, um, go. Yeah." Moxxie headed towards the front door at a brisk pace, opening it and slipping out into the hallway.

---

The moment Moxxie entered the liquor store with Loona's sandwich tucked under his arm, he felt that he'd need to take a long shower at the next available opportunity. It was hard for him to gauge most of the shop's interior; apart from the natural red hue cast by the sunlight shining in through the grimy windows, the place was only lit by a few barely-working LED light bulbs that he quickly noticed flickered on and off every twenty seconds or so. The cashier sitting behind the front counter, a tall, lanky imp with a bit of a droopy face with cloudy eyes, was staring blankly at an old TV screen set up on the counter facing away from the doorway.

Moxxie gulped nervously and took a few cautious steps forward, the heavy door slamming shut behind him and making him jump a few inches in the air from surprise. Something about this whole place gave him the heebie-jeebies, and every sane instinct in his body was telling him to book it out of there and just get back to work, Loona's request be damned.

But he wasn't going to go back on a promise, was he?

No. He didn't need to be here long. He just needed to get in, get some cheap whiskey, and he'd be out the door and back to work in no time. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

Moxxie grabbed a basket from the holder in front of the counter, grimacing as the loose handle nearly snapped off from just a mild amount of force. He grabbed the sandwich from under his arm and set it in the basket, freeing up that arm before making his way deeper into the store. His eyes scanned the shelves for anything that stood out to him as something that Loona would enjoy. He was fully expecting for someone or something to jump out at him from the shadows, but he couldn't hear anything else in the store besides his own footsteps and the low static drone coming from the cashier's TV set.

A few seconds later, he eventually came upon exactly what he was looking for at the bottom of a tall shelf on his right: a whole row of cheap, and likely incredibly deadly to any normal or sane person, whiskey. He knelt down and picked out one of the bottles, turning it around in his hand and feeling his eyes widen as he read the dozen or so warning labels on it that detailed the various kinds of hazardous effects and ailments that one could expect to experience from drinking it.

Stomach aches, bone aches, liver failure, kidney failure, total organ failure, several different kinds of cancer… What were they making this crap out of, anyway? Sewage from Greed?

Actually, he wouldn't really be entirely surprised if that were the truth.

Moxxie sighed, weighing in his mind whether or not he wanted to just settle for this and be on his way. He'd seen Loona chugging this particular brand from time to time; he knew she'd be fine with dumping this stuff into her body pretty much by the bucketload. But fine wouldn't cut it, not on his watch. No, Loona deserved better than to slowly drink herself to death with this absolute garbage. If she was going to be an irresponsible alcoholic on his watch, he reasoned, she deserved to at least indulge herself with something that tasted acceptable.

He set the bottle of illness-inducing alcohol back on the shelf and instead opted for a brand a couple shelves above that didn't have any special warning labels. It wasn't the best label—not by a long shot—but it was much better and much safer than the basically-poison below it. He began grabbing several bottles off the shelf and setting them in his basket. They were a few dollars more expensive than the other brand per bottle, but he was fine with footing the extra cost if it meant doing something a little nice for Loona. He just hoped she'd notice and at least give him some semblance of gratitude, in her own fucked-up way.

When he'd gotten about a dozen bottles or so, which was definitely enough to fill the mini fridge and then some, he rose back up and lifted his basket up again, ready to head back up front and pay for everything. However, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted one particular bottle of wine displayed atop one of the tallest shelves all the way in the back. The only non-flickering light in the store was focused on it, almost like a spotlight, which also revealed that it was the only one left on the shelf. Curiosity drove him forward towards it, and soon enough he was standing just below it, his face turned up towards it with squinting eyes as he tried to read the label from a distance.

Château Bacchus Merlot.

1990 A.D.

Moxxie's eyes shot open in a confusing mixture of shock, awe, and dread as memories of the family and of his father thought long-gone came to the forefront of his mind. He thought of how much his father had loved the brand, how often he'd go through bottles of the stuff, how badly his face stung to when his father had smacked him several times across the face to the point of bleeding when he'd inevitably found out that he'd stolen a taste from one of his bottles.

A large part of him was telling him to leave it be, to ignore it and just pay for the copious amounts of whiskey and get back to work as soon as possible. No need to unnecessarily remind yourself of then, that still-scared part of his mind told him.

Then again, his inner wine aficionado spoke up, anything from that label rarely ever made it outside of Gluttony; the fact that there just happened to be a bottle here, in a sleazy, run-down liquor store in Imp City, of all places, was almost enough to convince him of the existence of some kind of fate. His thoughts wandered back to their job a couple hours earlier; he supposed that, having spent a good chunk of the day shooting his way through a winery and dragging Blitzo out of that one spoiled vat, he was primed to be in the mood for a little wine, especially one as rare and tasteful as this label, even if it was something that reminded him of worse times in his life.

Was he primed to spend at least a couple hundred dollars on it, though? Was he ready to deal with thinking about Crimson every time he looked at the bottle?

If he was going to share it with Millie? Absolutely. In fact, he was already thinking of bringing it back to her as a surprise gift and treating her to a little date night tonight. After all, it had been far too long since they'd had enough time to just enjoy each other's company like that. Plus, he'd have the chance to make new, better associations in his head, pushing those images of his father and the family out and replacing them instead with thoughts of the love of his life.

It was a perfect idea, he told himself.

His first order of business, though, was actually trying to find a way to get that damn bottle.

Sadly, it was a couple feet out of reach, and Moxxie was much too short to extend himself a bit and snatch it with even his fingertips. He leapt up, waving his hand towards the bottle as he attempted to grab it, but he missed with each wave and a second later his feet hit the ground again, his legs bending underneath him as he landed.

"Crumbs," he uttered to himself, realizing that there was no safe way that he'd be able to get it himself. Sighing in disappointment, Moxxie wandered through the other aisles for a few minutes, searching for some kind of ladder or stool that he could use to get himself up to that top shelf. To his dismay, there wasn't anything of the sort around; this establishment clearly didn't do well to cater to shorter folk like him. Moxxie grabbed his basket off the ground and made his way back towards the counter to look for some assistance.

When he reached the front of the store, he set his basket back down on the floor and stood in front of the cashier with his hands clasped behind his back, clearing his throat a few times in an attempt to get his attention before speaking.

"Excuse me, sir? There's a particular bottle of Château BacchusMerlot on the top shelf in the back that I would like to buy, would you please assist me in retrieving it?"

"Uh huh." The cashier's deadened eyes blinked one at a time and remained glued to the little television sitting on the corner of the counter, seemingly hypnotized by whatever was playing on-screen.

"…D–did you hear me, sir? I need some help getting a bottle of Merlot from a high shelf, please."

"Uh huh."

Moxxie brought one of his palms to his face.

"Sir, I am your customer," he stated, his growing annoyance with the cashier's unresponsiveness beginning to seep into the tone of his voice. "It is your job to help me. I am asking for your help. Please get up and help me."

"Uh huh."

Moxxie leaned over to get a better look at what he was watching—and to bring himself further into the cashier's peripheral vision—and was appalled when he saw that the idiot was utterly entranced by what appeared to be reruns of a mediocre-at-best soap opera that seemed to have production value just barely above shoestring. He'd understand his disconnection from reality if the media was more compelling, but seriously? This? He was incredibly tempted to just reach over the counter and yank the TV's plug out before screaming at the cashier about both his utterly garbage taste in media and his unwillingness to do his job until he was thoroughly shamed into complying with his request for assistance.

Instead, he took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. Causing a massive scene probably wouldn't help him at all; in fact, doing so would more likely get him thrown out of the store and then he wouldn't have Loona's alcohol or the Merlot.

"Fine," he muttered under his breath. "I'll just try and get it myself, thank you very much."

Moxxie made his way to the back of the store again and set his basket back down on the ground, shedding his jacket and draping it over a nearby display stand as his eyes set themselves on that beautiful, dark crimson bottle on the top shelf. What he was about to do was incredibly stupid, he had to admit to himself; but he'll be blessed if he wasn't going to get something nice for Millie. He rolled up his sleeves and cracked his knuckles before grabbing hold of one of the shelves above his head and slotting his foot onto another one.

He began to ascend, slowly clambering up the shelves one at a time like a ladder and trying his damndest to not knock over any of the bottles on them. However, as he got closer to his prize at the top, one of Moxxie's feet began slipping out from under him, the wood underneath it being coated in some kind of residue.

"Shitshitshitshitshitshit!" He hissed, desperately trying to regain his footing before he could fall and injure himself. As he shook the shelves back and forth in his frantic scrambling, he noticed a few of the cheaper bottles of Pinot Noir falling over and rolling towards the edge. Thinking quickly, and still hanging by one hand, he was able to keep most of them from falling off by blocking them with his other arm and setting them back up one at a time after they'd been stopped. However, he wasn't able to save all of them, and despite his efforts a couple of the bottles plummeted to the ground below, the sounds of a few loud smacks and the shattering of glass echoing throughout the store.

Moxxie shut his eyes and grimaced, expecting the cashier to finally be shaken out of his trance and come over to kick him out of the store. A few seconds passed, then a minute, and a few minutes more; nothing came. He let go of the breath that he hadn't been aware he'd been holding in, and, finally getting a proper grip with his other hand and getting his feet back in place, climbed the last few shelves to the top.

When he finally clasped the Merlot in his hand, he hopped back down off the shelf to the ground, luckily avoiding any of the broken glass below him as he stuck his landing. He knelt down and slowly, carefully, set the Château Bacchus bottle in his basket, nestling it between several other tightly-packed whiskey bottles, almost as if it would shatter in his hands if he even so much as moved it too quickly.

Moxxie wasn't surprised when to see that the cashier was still completely disconnected from reality when he returned to the front counter with his basket hanging at his side, the clanking of bottles against each other sounding out with every step he took. For a moment, given how utterly rude the cashier had been to ignore him this entire time, Moxxie was tempted to simply leave without paying for anything. It would be so easy; the door was right there, and this idiot clearly wouldn't do anything to stop him, much less notice that anything had been happening for the past fifteen minutes or so since he'd walked in.

No. No. Moxxie chastised himself for even thinking that way. Even if he didn't feel particularly inclined to do so, he had to do the right thing regardless. Even if this nincompoop behind the counter wasn't fulfilling his duties as a cashier at all, he would much rather be the better person and uphold his end of the interaction than flout it entirely. Besides, he told himself, if he followed his spiteful gut, he'd just feel like crap later when he'd have time to dwell on the fact that he'd stolen hundreds of dollars' worth of products. No. Such a course of action wasn't something that his conscience would let him sit with.

Moxxie stuck a hand into his jacket and, opening up his wallet, produced a wad of cash, dropping it in front of the cashier without saying a word to him. He reached over the counter and grabbed a few paper bags, stuffing several bottles into each. Just to make carrying everything back easier, he decided to stuff the still-lukewarm foil-wrapped cheesesteak into one of the bags as well, noting that he'd have to get that out and give it to Loona right away when he got back.

Just as he was about to turn and leave, however, he remembered all the broken bottles in the back; probably three or so, judging by how much shattering he'd heard. He set a few more bills next to the ones already there before finally turning around and shoving the front door open with his shoulder, careful not to bang around the bottles in the bags too much as he made his exit from the store.

---

Loona's ears flipped upright when she heard the front door open, along with the clacking of glass on glass and the rustling of paper. She paused the video on her computer's monitor and leaned back in her chair, maintaining her nonchalant demeanor.

"You're late," she stated matter-of-factly, not giving him a chance to get a word in as he stepped into the lobby. "All that walking getting a bit much for you, fatty?"

"N–No?" Moxxie replied flusteredly, clearly caught off guard by the question. He waddled over to the side of her desk, his arms full of heavy paper bags that Loona presumed were filled with her alcohol. "Not that you care or that it's going to stop you from making assumptions about my weight, but I'll have you know that I can run a pretty solid mile when I'm properly motivated." Loona snickered as the image of him running down the street, drenched in sweat, and limbs flailing from fatigue, entered her mind. Fuck, she thought; she'd pay real money to actually see him making a complete ass of himself like that. Or, she'd have to think of another way of getting him properly motivated.

Moxxie rolled his eyes in annoyance as he knelt down on the floor beside her, setting down all of the bags in his arms around him and opening the mini fridge's door. "By the way," he said, reaching into one of them and producing the sandwich that had been on Loona's mind for the better part of half an hour now, extending it towards her. "Here you go. Same as usual." Loona took it from his hand and, with one of her claws, tore a clean line through the foil lengthwise, letting it fall away to reveal the piece of art of a sandwich underneath. She still couldn't believe that Moxxie would just get this for her, even if she had been pulling the "you owe me your life, so do whatever I ask you" card on him; she'd been expecting something pretty subpar the first time she'd asked for it, but she'd been completely blown out of the water by how fucking incredible it tasted. Regardless of what else she said about the little guy, if there was one thing he had going for him, it was damn good culinary taste.

Hell, now that she thought about it, that even went for his little home-cooked meals that she used to keep stealing from him, the ones that he stopped bringing in months ago once he realized that they'd just be going into her stomach and not his. She'd never admit it to his face because she just knew that he'd get some smug sense of satisfaction and superiority from it, but those were not, in fact, as garbage as she told him they were.

Loona watched while taking bite after delicious bite of the masterpiece in her hands as Moxxie got to work filling her mini fridge one bottle at a time, reveling in the sight of him doing her bidding on his hands and knees. When she'd finished her sandwich, she bent down and, making him jolt in shock, snatched one of the bottles out of his hand just as he was about to put it in, maintaining eye contact with him as she unscrewed the cap and downed about a third of the whiskey in one swig.

"Shit," she growled, surprised to find that the taste was… different. Better than usual. The burning making its way down her throat felt a lot more like alcohol and less like toxic sewage. She didn't mind the latter; in fact, it often got her drunk faster which she definitely needed most days, but she was pleasantly surprised nonetheless—though she didn't dare let that feeling show itself externally at all. She examined the label and noticed that it was missing all the warning labels that she'd expected from her usual brands. "I told you to get the cheapest shit you could find, dumbass. The fuck is this?"

"Something decent," Moxxie retorted, waggling his eyebrows at her. "If you're going to be a sad alcoholic slowly drinking herself to death, I think you should at least raise your standards a bit." Loona scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Whatever," she mumbled, tossing the bottle back to him. She snorted as he fumbled it in his hands for a few seconds before getting a good grip on it. He grumbled as he set it inside the mini fridge along with the other bottles, finally accomplishing his task and shutting the glass door when he was sure that every bottle was, indeed, inside.

Though, there was one bag that he hadn't yet touched; one that he had, in fact, set apart from the others and was seemingly deliberately trying to keep out of Loona's sight. That certainly caught her attention, her ears flicking back and forth a couple of times unconsciously in a display of her growing curiosity.

"Hiding something from me?" She asked, raising her eyebrow and nodding towards the bag behind him. Before Moxxie could answer her or move to stop her, Loona scooted her chair over and shoved her hand into it, snatching the neck of a wine bottle and hoisting it up into the air. She narrowed her eyes at the label, not recognizing the name on it. "Looks expensive," she commented idly, raising her other hand to the top of the bottle with a finger extended and slowly pressing a claw into the cork, intent on popping it open and taking a swig for herself. But before she could get it open, Moxxie shot up and snatched it out of her hand, cradling it in his arms and taking several rapid steps back until he was out of her reach.

"It is," he spat, checking over every inch of the bottle for any scratch marks that Loona's claws might've left on it. "I spent a lot more on it than I care to admit, and it's absolutely not for you."

"Didn't take you for being such a snob. Thought you were too much of a lightweight for… well, anything. What, you sharing that with Millie or something?"

"Well, first off, I am not a snob; I just have a refined palette that few drinks have the capacity to quench—"

"So… you're a snob. Gotcha."

"No! Second, I am not a lightweight; I am perfectly capable of holding down a large amount of drinks for someone my size—"

"C'mon, dude. I've literally seen you get drunk off your ass just from some shitty beer."

"I was thrown into a keg! Give me a break already, that was months ago!"

"Nah, it was funny as fuck seeing you stumble around and shit. I've still got a vid of it, if you wanna see—."

"Satan no! And yes, I'm planning on sharing it with Millie later tonight, so please, please, please, don't even think about touching this bottle, alright?"

"Yeah, whatever. Geez, you don't need to start yelling, dude—"

"I am not—!" Moxxie groaned in frustration before finishing his sentence, realizing that she was just trying to get a rise out of him and that continuing to argue with her was a futile endeavor. He stormed off past Loona and towards the conference room with the bottle still resting in his arms, clearly not wanting to stick around and listen to her cackling about getting him all riled up.

When Loona's amusement finally faded back into her typical indifference, she rolled herself back over in front of her computer and hit the spacebar on her keyboard to continue the video that she'd been watching before Moxxie came in. It wasn't particularly interesting—just some dumbasses getting themselves hurt for views on the Sinternet—but at least it was something to keep her from dying of boredom. Nonetheless Loona's attention began to drift away from the video again and she found herself unconsciously focusing in on the quiet, muffled conversation coming from the conference room, her ears and head slowly swiveling in that direction to better catch the low noises of conversation that would otherwise be lost on other people's ears.

She could only make out a few of their words, but she could definitely tell a lot from the tones of their voices. She heard Millie squealing with delight as Moxxie, presumably, presented that bottle of expensive wine to her, telling him how sweet he was and how much it meant to her over and over again. She heard Moxxie make a promise to her that tonight would be just for themselves, that nothing would get in the way of him showing her just how much she meant to him. Then, as their dialogue and sweet talking died away and any words became completely imperceptible, she could hear quiet laughter… the incredibly faint, almost imperceptible wet smacking of kissing, maybe, though she couldn't be entirely sure… some thumping as they probably—

Thoroughly disgusted by what she was now hearing, Loona immediately shoved the mental image of the two imps going at it out of her head and finally yanked herself out of her unconscious eavesdropping. She slammed her hand down on her keyboard, closing the video before crossing her arms and kicking the edge of her desk, sending her chair rolling backwards until it hit the wall behind her.

Fuck, she thought. It was freakish how crazy those two were for each other. Un-fucking-natural. There was no way that anyone would willingly just… be like that, right? No one would get that worked up over something as simple as someone thinking about them and caring about their needs every day, right…?

She scooted her chair forward to the desk and crossed her arms on the surface before burying her face in them, feeling a few unwanted tears begin to streak down her cheeks.

She was never going to get someone like that, was she?

---

"You know, I should really get around to thanking your father for these," Moxxie commented, pulling a bag of flank steaks submerged in homemade marinade out of the fridge before closing its door shut again. "For all of his overbearing machismo and ultra-violent tendencies, he sure knows how to butcher like an artist."

"My daddy? An artist?" Millie scoffed and shook her head as she minced the clove of garlic in front of her with a smaller kitchen knife. "I ain't gonna let 'im know ya said that, for yer sake." Moxxie snickered as he brought the bag over to the counter, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt before unzipping it, reaching in, and pulling two of the steaks out.

"Seriously, though," Moxxie continued as he set both slabs of meat down in the pan on the stovetop. He cranked the knob in the back to turn up the heat while opening a drawer to his right with his other hand and retrieving a pair of tongs. "I think your folks are starting to warm up to me a bit."

"Maybe!" Millie twirled her knife in her hand, pointing the blade upward and using the handle to crush the minced garlic into a fine paste. "Yer up to 'em sayin' three words to ya per visit now instead'a just two, and I think that beats the record for me or any of my siblin's partners, past or present." She reached up and opened one of the cabinets above her head, retrieving a small bowl and setting it down next to the cutting board. In one swift motion, she slid the pasty garlic into the bowl with the dull end of her knife before also tossing in some soft butter and a few pinches of parsley that she already had lying ready nearby. "Mind gettin' the oven, hun?" She asked, grabbing a spoon from a drawer below her waist and beating the ingredients together.

Moxxie nodded and pressed a couple of buttons, setting the oven to preheat to 375 degrees. A couple of minutes later, after Millie finished spreading her garlic butter over a few pieces of bread and laid them out on a metal baking sheet, the oven made a loud ding, prompting her to bring the sheet over, open the oven, and gently slide it inside. After she was done, Moxxie stepped back over and lifted the steaks up with the tongs, checking to make sure they were lightly browned on the bottom before flipping them over.

As he pressed the slabs down again, the satisfying sizzling of the flesh ringing throughout the kitchen, he felt Millie wrap her arms around his waist as she hugged him from behind and rested her chin on his shoulder, watching him as he cooked. He grinned and turned his head to plant a kiss on her temple, nuzzling the side of her face as he did. She spun him around to face her and, after taking the tongs out of his hands and setting them aside, pressed their foreheads together. She began to hum a sweet tune, using her weight to sway them both from side to side to the beat. Moxxie immediately recognized the song; it was one of many that had played at their wedding reception, one that they'd danced the night away together to in the dim light of candles and the nearby lava flows characteristic of Wrath.

Instinctively, he began humming a deeper harmony to match her melody, letting his hands lower down to her hips and matching her movements with his own. His eyes met hers and his heart skipped a beat as she beamed at him with that beautiful smile of hers that showed off the adorable gap in her teeth. He leaned forward and pressed their lips together, their eyes shutting as their tongues began to intertwine.

Unfortunately, Moxxie was ripped out of the moment by the smell of burning meat. His eyes shot open and he rapidly separated from his wife to grab the tongs and flip the steaks over again, cranking the knob on the stove to turn off the heat now that they were thoroughly cooked. He grabbed two plates from one of the cabinets and set a steak on each before turning back to Millie, chuckling and scratching the back of his head. Millie rolled her eyes at him before striding forward and planting another kiss on her husband's lips.

"Yer such a dork," she said, nuzzling his forehead again and taking his hands in hers. "So, ya ready to pop that fancy bottle of wine open?" She nodded her head back towards the bottle on the counter.

"Of course, hun." Moxxie kissed the backs of her hands and let go of them before grabbing a corkscrew from a nearby drawer and heading to the other side of the kitchen. He took that beautiful bottle of Merlot in his hands and sighed as he admired it in its unopened state one last time. "You know," he spoke, screwing the implement into the cork in the top before slowly, as if the bottle would explode in his hand if he went too fast, pulling it out until a satisfying pop rang throughout the kitchen. "I've never actually had a full glass of this before."

"Really now?" Millie asked, bringing a couple of wine glasses over and setting them down next to each other in front of her husband. "I'm assumin' you've at least had a taste of it, right? Considerin' how much ya went on about it earlier when ya showed it to me."

"Mhm." He rested the neck of the bottle on his forearm and flipped the bottle to have the label face upwards before pouring the crimson liquid into each glass. "My… my father always had a few glasses of it every day. I didn't think too much of it, though he never actually gave me any permission to taste it for myself. But when he started making it mandatory for everyone in the family, myself included, to regularly attend wine tastings because it'd make us 'more cultured' or something like that…" He set the bottle back down and took one of the glasses in his hand while carefully sliding the other towards his wife. She took it from him, visually inspecting it for a second and taking a sniff out of curiosity. "Well," Moxxie continued. "I saw a couple of guys stab each other to death right in the middle of a tasting session because both of them wanted to drink the only glass of this they had on display. Going back home and seeing my father slam glass after glass of the stuff every day, well… It gave me some perspective on my place in things."

Moxxie swirled the wine around in his glass, staring into the tiny whirlpool forming at the center. "I managed to sneak into the storeroom and got a taste of it one night. Fell in love with it the moment it touched my tongue. Didn't have too much, of course, and only drank straight from the bottle to minimize the evidence, but… of course he'd kept track of how much wine was left in each bottle every day, the greedy piece of shit." Moxxie's hand was shaking ever so slightly as a few tears welled up in his eyes. "He made sure to punish me thoroughly, of course. Slapped me over and over in front of his yes-men until I was bleeding at his feet for 'stealing' from him."

"I'm so sorry, pumpkin," Millie finally said, coming over and placing her free hand on Moxxie's bare forearm to help ground him in the moment. "I can't imagine how anyone would do that to their own child over tasting some wine—"

"Honey, this isn't just some wine," Moxxie interrupted her, his eyes finally darting upwards from the glass in his hand to meet her gaze. "This is the wine. Most of the wine down in Greed is little better than Pruno that everyone tolerates because of its prolific association with criminal activity. Even with the 'punishment,' getting the chance to taste something actually good was…" He brought the glass up to his face and took a deep breath, doing his best to capture every aspect of the magnificent fragrance. Vanilla, plus a touch of oak, with hints of baked blackberry and fruitcake. "Magnificent," he uttered.

Millie's frown morphed back into a warm smile as she listened to her husband's voice regain its energy. She'd never been too crazy about wine like Moxxie—she'd always been much more of a hard liquor person, of course—but seeing him this passionate about something he cared deeply about and sharing the experience with him was always worth it to her.

"To making new memories," he toasted, raising his glass and gazing at his loving wife with a twinkle in his eye. "Because if I ever drink this brand again, I will always think of this moment, when I got to share it with the most beautiful woman in all of Hell."

"And to sayin' 'fuck you' to yer shitass daddy," Millie added, clinking her glass against his. "Here's hopin' that one day we'll finally be able to beat the everlovin' piss outta him fer everythin' he's put ya through."

"Yeah. I hope so, too." They raised their glasses to their lips, tilting them back to take their first drink of the night before suddenly, a series of hard knocks on the front door brought the moment to an abrupt halt. They both lowered their glasses again without either of them having taken a sip, with Moxxie slowly turning his head towards the door in confusion and Millie tilting hers to match him.

"Who in the heck…?" She asked, confused.

"Ugh, I swear to Satan, if it's some salesman—"

"At this hour? I don't know 'bout that."

"It could be! You remember that one guy from last month, right?"

"Fair 'nuff. Mind tellin' 'em off?"

"Of course, hun." Moxxie set his glass down on the counter and wandered over to the door, grabbing the handle and opening it a crack to get a look at whoever would possibly want anything from them this late in the evening. He cleared his throat before speaking. "I'm sorry, but we aren't interested in…"

He felt his stomach drop and his blood went ice cold as he finally saw the white-gray hellhound leaning forward with her forearm on the doorframe, hunched over slightly as she stared back at him, her half-shut, tired red eyes meeting his. He could just barely make out faint black streaks running down her cheeks in the dim lighting of the hallway, only lightly covered up with a new layer of white makeup. She was close enough that he could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on her, almost masked by a layer of cheap perfume.

"L–L–Loona?" He stammered, his own eyes widening in surprise as he took a small, shaky step back from the cracked door. "W–What are you doing—how d–did you even find out where—"

"Asked Blitz. Apparently he's been watching you guys, or something?" She eyed him up and down, realizing that he wasn't actually wearing his jacket. It was weird, like he was kinda naked without it—though, the thought of having "Moxxie" and "naked" in the same sentence was one that Loona quickly banished from her head before she felt like she was going to gag. Whether from disgust or from the sudden rush of… something she felt, she didn't know or want to know.

"…Okay, yeah, that sounds about right." He sighed and pinched the skin between his eyebrows, not particularly thrilled by the fact that Blitzo had so easily given away his home address to the last person that he ever wanted to know about it. "So, um, is he with you or somehow somewhere in here with us already or—"

"Nah. He's with Stolas. Again."

"Oh. What a–are you doing here, then…?"

"Oh, y'know. Just… stopping by. Happened to be around. No friends," Loona spat, narrowing her gaze at him. "Remember?" Moxxie was confused for a second, cocking his head to the side with an eyebrow raised. He wasn't quite sure what she was getting at, not until—

Oh crumbs. He remembered all those nasty things he'd said to her last week when he'd been taking her home and internally cringed, hard.

In hindsight, maybe he really should've just kept his mouth shut.

"L–Look, Loona, I—I didn't mean it like that—"

"Stop. Just stop."

"Sorry."

"You were actually kinda right."

Moxxie's facial features softened as her words sank in.

"...What?" He whispered breathlessly, struggling to comprehend the fact that she had admitted such a thing to his face. He felt his vice-like grip on the door handle loosen, not realizing that he'd been clenching his hand so tightly.

"I'm not saying it again, dumbass," Loona sighed and let her head hit the door frame with a loud thunk. "I've got nothing going on, and… fuck, this is stupid." She sniffled and wiped her eyes with her hand to clear some of the tears out of them. "Why the fuck am I even here…"

"Hey, are you… okay?" Moxxie ventured, letting the door open just a little bit more and letting his posture relax as he internalized that Loona was not, in fact, here to harm him in any way. She didn't answer him, but he noticed how her body tensed when he'd asked. "Look, I know you don't really, um, like me all that much, and I'm still a bit confused as to why you're here, but… but if you really need a place to stay—"

"Mox?" Moxxie's head snapped towards the sound of Millie's voice coming from the kitchen; evidently, she'd gone back in to check on the garlic toast in the oven and wasn't able to see his and Loona's ongoing confrontation. "Everythin' good over there? Need me to get th' shotgun?"

He didn't answer her. Didn't know how to. How was he supposed to just casually tell her that there was a clearly emotionally unstable hellhound at their front door asking to come in? Instead, he let the door slowly swing open all the way and he stepped aside, his heart aching for Loona the same as it had the night that he'd brought her back to her home. Yet she continued to lean against the door frame, glaring at him with distrustful eyes and a hint of a snarl on her lips.

"Look," he said, keeping his voice low. "You don't have to be embarrassed about it. If it helps, think of it as… as me doing another favor for you. I won't ask anything from you in return, I promise. Just… come inside, if you want, okay?"

Loona shut her eyes and let a shaky breath out, her claws digging into the wooden frame deep enough to leave marks. Every instinct in her body was screaming at her to just fucking leave already, that this was stupid and that she was stupid for coming. She didn't fucking need Moxxie's charity, those instincts told her. She'd be fine. She always had been when they were in charge.

Yet here she was at Moxxie's door, having dragged herself here with the intent of doing… something to him—though she hadn't even bothered to think of what exactly that something was—and he was just… offering to let her into his home. No strings attached, no favors, nothing. Those instincts of hers told her it wasn't right, that clearly it was just another case of someone pulling the sympathy card to get something out of her, but despite them she found herself letting go of the door frame and taking a few tentative steps forward, keeping her bleary eyes averted from Moxxie's as she stepped through the door.

"C'mon, hun," Millie began, coming out of the kitchen with both of their dinners in her hands and setting them both on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Time fer—" Her eyes finally flitted up to the front door and her entire body tensed as she saw the disheveled hellhound stepping into their home. "Moxxie. What is she—"

"Millie," Moxxie said, cutting her off as he strode past Loona to stand in front of Millie, placing his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to calm her down. "It's okay. She just needs—"

"This is our date night, Mox! What the fuck is she doin' here?!"

"Millie! Look at her!" Moxxie turned his head around to check on Loona. She had wandered over to one of the side tables near the entrance and was holding a framed photo of the couple in her lightly shaking hands. "She clearly needs a place to at least rest for a bit, okay?" He looked back at Millie, his big, bright eyes meeting hers. "I'm sorry, babe. I know we were supposed to just have tonight to ourselves and I know I told you as much earlier, but I can't, in all good conscience, just stand by and let her suffer." Millie exhaled through gritted teeth and let her head sag forward until it hit Moxxie's forehead, shutting her eyes tightly.

"Fine," she spat, reaching up and removed Moxxie's hands from her shoulders before rubbing a hand over her face in frustration. "But she's stayin' outta our way while we have our time together, got it?"

"That's completely fair."

"And yer gonna be the one makin' sure she ain't doin' anythin' stupid, 'cause this whole thing is yer idea."

"Also completely fair."

"And you," She continued, brushing past Moxxie and stomping over to their uninvited guest until she stopped right behind her, placing her hands on her hips. "Yer in our space. Like I just said, yer stayin' well outta our way. If we tell ya to leave, ya leave. And no fuckin' with my husband, got it? I ain't lettin' ya jerk him 'round like you've been doin' for the past week. Not tonight, and certainly not on my goddamn watch."

"Yep," Loona mumbled, setting the frame back down on the table and flashed a tired glare first at Millie before her gaze lingered on Moxxie. She leaned back against the wall and pulled her phone out of her shorts, breaking eye contact with him and mindlessly scrolling through her social media to distract herself. Millie was a bit shocked at how easily she'd agreed, without any argument whatsoever.

"A–Are you hungry, Loona?" Moxxie asked, anxiously wringing his hands in front of him. "I can make something for you, i–if you want. We have an extra steak in the fridge and it won't take too long to make." Millie turned her head towards him and cocked an eyebrow at him, wordlessly expressing her concern to him. He glanced at her, pursed his lips and shrugged in response; after all, even if they hadn't intended on having a guest, especially her of all people, it couldn't hurt to at least be courteous hosts, right?

"Yeah, whatever," she grumbled, slowly sliding down the wall until she was sitting on the floor, sighing and typing something out on her phone. Moxxie scampered back into the kitchen, opening the fridge and retrieving another marinated steak from the bag and setting it down in the still-warm pan on the stovetop. Millie finally sat down on the couch, crossing her arms and keeping her eyes squarely on the hellhound in front of her, her foot tapping against the floor impatiently. To say that she was suspicious of their guest was a drastic understatement.

Loona sniffed the air, catching a whiff of the cooking meat in the kitchen. She felt copious amounts of saliva pooling in her mouth as her stomach rumbled; she hadn't had anything to eat for hours, but she'd been too caught up in… self medication to notice, or particularly care about, her empty stomach. At least, not until now, when she smelled that searing flesh in the air and realized how badly she needed to chow down on something, anything. She slipped her phone back into her shorts and rose to her feet, following that tantalizing scent all the way into the kitchen, keenly aware of Millie's eyes boring into her and watching her every movement like a hawk.

Moxxie was startled and almost accidentally knocked the pan onto the floor when he realized that Loona was standing right next to him, unconsciously sniffing the air as she approached.

"I–I–I'm almost done," he reassured her, chuckling nervously at the tall, ominous presence watching over his shoulder as he cooked. "Don't worry—"

"Not bad," Loona commented, her voice steady and quiet as she leaned in a little closer and took a deep inhale, mentally deconstructing the scent of the steak searing in the pan with her heightened sense of smell. "Little too much vinegar, though."

"W–What?" Moxxie stammered. "Wait, so, um, do you actually cook yourself, or—"

"Blitz does. Well, nah, he tries. He fucking sucks at it, so yeah, I might've picked up on a thing or two while keeping him from burning the fucking apartment down or giving himself food poisoning."

"Oh. That's, um… that's thoughtful of you? T–To take care of him like that, I mean."

Loona felt the compliment hit her like a sack of bricks, her face twitching ever so slightly and her teeth grinding in her closed mouth as those damned words reached her ears. While she was mentally struggling with the fact that Moxxie had just called her fucking thoughtful, Moxxie turned his attention back to the food, flipping the steak one last time and ensuring that both sides were thoroughly browned before picking it up with the tongs and setting it down on another plate that he'd set on the counter. "So," Moxxie said, breaking the thick silence between them as he retreated several steps back away from her, standing in the partition between the kitchen and the living room. "Hope you, um… like it? Or at least, don't hate it, or…"

"Whatever, just lemme have it." Loona picked up the fork—perfectly-sized for imps' hands, but far, far too small for a hellhound—and started picking away at the steak, leaning forward on the counter with her elbows as she took a few tentative bites to decide whether or not she'd enjoy it or want to spit it out into the trash. With her back now turned to him, Moxxie breathed a sigh of relief and, taking the two wine glasses off the counter, went back into the living room, flopping down beside Millie on the couch after he'd set both glasses down on the table in front of them.

"So," he started, reaching over and uncrossing her arms to hold her hands in his, hoping that maybe the physical contact would keep her focused on him, smiling at her as he did. "Do you, um, maybe wanna watch that one musical I was telling you about the other day? I've been playing some of the songs from it for you for a while now, and you promised me that you wanted to see it, so… I think now's a better time than any, right?"

"Mhm." Millie was still glaring at Loona while she ate, her breathing slow and heavy as she did her best to keep herself under control.

"Do you… really want to?"

"Sure, babe."

Moxxie's smile disappeared, realizing that nothing he was saying was really getting through to her.

"You're still mad, aren't you." It wasn't so much a question as a statement of fact.

"You tell me." Her head snapped back around to face him, and Moxxie suddenly found himself staring into her wild, angry gaze.

"Look, Millie. Under normal circumstances I–I would've turned her away at the door, but… seeing her like that, I just… you know me, Millie. I couldn't! She's a mess!" He leaned over and looked past Millie to make sure that Loona was still, in fact, eating, and not actively listening in on their conversation. He was relieved to find that she was still hunched over the counter, the faint sounds of chewing barely audible beneath the sound of the apartment's air conditioning.

"And I don't remember askin' to spend tonight babysittin' a fuckin' hellhound!"

"You're…" Moxxie started, trailing off as his words failed him. He sighed and let his head hang lower, his eyes drifting away from Millie's as he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. "You're right. I'm—I'm sorry. I… I promised you that we'd have tonight just for ourselves, and I… I… I'm screwing up."

"Mox." Millie brought one of her hands up to cup Moxxie's chin, tilting his face up so that he was looking her in the eyes again. "You've got a big heart. Yer so unbelievably kind, more than anyone I know of. It's one'a the many, many reasons why I love ya to death. But fer fuck's sake, baby, I just don't get why ya keep givin' her all these chances lately!"

"Like I said, she's… she's a mess, and I'm not just talking about tonight. Taking her back home last week, I… I saw a part of her that I had no clue was there, and now I'm really worried about kicking her back out onto the street again, about what that would do to her mentally. I can't do that. Every fiber of my being is telling me not to." He leaned forward and let his forehead touch Millie's, nuzzling her and almost letting their lips touch. "Please don't ask me to do that."

Several excruciating seconds passed with neither of them saying a word.

"Okay," Millie finally relented, bringing her hand on his chin up to his cheek and stroking through his sideburn with her thumb. "I'm not comfortable with it by any stretch of the imagination and I ain't gonna pretend I like it, but… alright."

"Thank you. Thank you so, so much." He kissed Millie deeply to show her his gratitude. She reciprocated, albeit not with the same level of enthusiasm, before pulling away and grabbing her wine glass off the table. Moxxie followed her lead, taking hers as well. "Now, I think we were about to have some of this before we got interrupted?" He brought the glass to his lips and tilted it back, the flavor flooding his mouth as the rich, crimson fluid flowed in, his taste buds firing on all cylinders.

It was just as amazing he'd remembered it from all those years ago.

Soft, rich texture, and definitely a bit dry but without being "dying-of-thirst-in-the-deserts-of-Wrath" dry like some other labels. Vanilla, blackberries, cherries; hell, there was that fruitcake that he had picked up on when scenting it earlier.

Moxxie took another sip, and another, savoring the taste each time. He heard Millie smacking her lips a bit and he saw her swirling the glass around a bit out of the corner of his eye. "Do you, um, like it…?" He ventured, feeling that knot in his stomach return as he gauged her reaction.

"Yeah, I like it," Millie replied, taking another sip that made her face scrunch up a little bit. "Bit sweet fer my tastes, though. And pretty rich, too."

"Is that… is that a bad thing?"

"Nah, nah, it's fine, it's…" She took another sip, pursing her lips as she let the dry sweetness make its way to the back of her throat. "It's not bad. Like I said, I like it. I guess I'm just more into more bitter stuff." Moxxie felt his excitement begin to dissipate as his smile faded away into a slight frown.

"I—I could've gotten something else for you, if you'd liked—"

"No. Hun, I wouldn't have had anythin' else tonight." She set her glass down and took his out of his hand and set it down beside hers before pulling him into a tight hug. "I'm so, so glad ya shared this with me. I know how much of a big deal it is to ya, and I'm happy that you brought it here for me. Thank you."

"And you aren't just saying that to—"

"No. Hell no." She squeezed him again, and Moxxie felt his happiness slowly, ever so slowly, begin to return, even if it was tinged with a hint of unease.

"Thank you. That… that means a lot to me." He sighed and, letting go of her hand, grabbed the remote. "So, are you actually up for that musical, or…?"

"Mhm!" Millie answered, leaning forward and, after taking it off her plate, took a bite out of her garlic toast. "Alright, get it fired up, baby." Moxxie grabbed the remote sitting on the table and, after turning on the TV, pressed a few buttons to go to one of their myriad streaming apps—he'd been thinking about cutting off a few of their subscriptions, since there were so many services at this point that he either only used for a single show or a small set of movies—and finally navigated his way to the musical. He hit the play button and leaned back into Millie, wrapping one of his arms around her shoulder and turning his head to nuzzle into her neck a bit before settling in for the viewing experience.

"The fuck're you guys watching?" Loona asked, startling the both of them and making them both sit up straight as they turned their attention towards their "guest." She was leaning up against the side of the counter with her hip as she saw what was on the TV screen, a slight smirk playing at her lips.

"It's, uh, this musical that came out a few months ago, called Disentangle," Moxxie answered her, fiddling with his hands in his lap. "It's about, um…" He glanced over at Millie before turning back to her. "It's a forbidden love story, about two people falling for each other despite their circumstances keeping them apart." Loona cocked an eyebrow at him and scoffed, shaking her head at him as she turned back to the screen.

"Sounds like pussy shit to me."

"Hey!" Moxxie shouted back at her, feeling his face grow hot as he was flustered by her comment. "I–It's not! It's a very serious, complex drama about—"

"C'mon. You know that it's gonna be the same 'will they, won't they' bullshit that like, literally every romance story has already done a thousand times."

"If yer gonna keep interruptin' and bein' all snarky like this, I'm kickin' yer ass out," Millie growled, her fingers digging into the fabric of the couch hard enough for her nails to tear through. "This is yer only fuckin' warning."

"Sheesh, chill the fuck out, I was just messing around!" Loona readjusted her position slightly, clearing her throat, rolling her eyes at Millie's threat. "Prick," she added under her breath, quiet enough so that Millie wouldn't notice.

Moxxie and Millie ate their dinner as they watched the musical unfolding on screen, humming and singing along together to the various musical numbers, both of them alternating providing the melodies and harmonies in different songs whenever they felt like it. Loona tried her best to suppress her laughter at first. Getting to witness them being this corny and lame first hand was something that she'd never let them live down, she told herself. Seeing Moxxie geek out like that, though, and get all excited whenever a new piece started playing… it made her feel oddly warm inside. She chalked it up to embarrassment, but some part of her knew that wasn't it at all.

Soon enough, she'd tuned the couple out entirely and as the musical progressed further and she kept her eyes glued to the screen, Loona found herself utterly hypnotized. It was… weirdly compelling. Seeing these characters go through subtle transformations, slowly realizing truths about themselves and each other and trying so desperately to make something work between them, it was the kind of storytelling that Loona hadn't ever thought she'd find in some dumb musical. It helped that the leads had so much chemistry with each other, making it so clear to the audience how perfect these characters were for each other in the few precious moments that they could be together—which made the tragedy of the situation all the more heart-wrenching when they were torn apart from each other time and time again.

Loona hadn't even realized that at some point she'd sunk down to the floor, sitting on the cold tile floor and leaning back against the counter as she watched. Eventually, they'd reached a scene where the leads were finally on their first real date together; it was all very clandestine and secretive, since the male lead had been forced into an arranged marriage and if he and the female lead were discovered together, then everything in his life threatened to blow up in his face. The female lead, for her part, had had a difficult life, and this man was one of the first people she'd ever met who was willing to give her a chance.

As with all the other pieces in the musical so far, she heard Moxxie and Millie adding their voices to the leads', singing together about how much they loved each other, how much of a crime it was to have been kept apart from each other for so long, how they would never let anything get in the way of them having each other ever again. Loona finally tore her eyes off the screen, letting them drift over to the couple on the couch. She watched with tears welling in her eyes as Moxxie sang his heart out to Millie, feeling the pit in her stomach deepen as the soreness around her eyes and the running sensation in her nose flared up again, telltale signs that she was going back into that state that had dragged her here to begin with.

Loona felt the first tears dripping down her face, staining her cheeks with eyeliner again and ruining the impromptu coverup job that she'd done for the last round of crying she did back at her and Blitzo's apartment. She shook her head and let out a sharp exhale, pushing herself back up her feet and heading back into the darkened kitchen. She paced back and forth over and over again with her hands clasped behind her head, not noticing that Moxxie's gaze had shifted from Millie to her, an expression of worry spreading across his face.

What the fuck was wrong with her? Why the fuck was she even here? And why was she fucking crying again? Something was wrong, so very fucking wrong, and her instincts were screaming at her to just slip out and forget that she'd ever come here in the first place. This was a fucking mistake, she thought; she was just gonna make herself look fucking pathetic and weak in front of that little shithead and his perfect fucking wife.

"Fuck," Loona muttered to herself, finally halting her pacing and leaning forward on the counter with both hands. She needed a drink; it was the only way to stop herself from spiraling any further, the only way she knew how to keep the walls up for long enough to at least get home before they came crashing down again. She spotted the bottle of wine resting on the counter in front of her, recognizing it as the expensive one that Moxxie had taken away from her earlier. She knew that Moxxie would probably have a stroke if he saw her taking swigs from it.

Fuck it, she thought, grabbing it by the neck and holding it up to her lips. What was he gonna do, stop her? She tilted the bottle up and let the red wine flow down her throat.

It was sweet. So fucking sweet, only a little less sweet than that shit that Queen Bee served at that party she'd gone to with Tex. The moment the thought of him crossed her mind, and when she remembered how fucking awful she'd felt having to stand there and pretend to be perfectly fucking fine when he'd introduced her to his girlfriend, she took another swig from the bottle. It was good. Really, fucking, good.

Moxxie's eyes widened in horror and his singing petered out into an exasperated wheeze, utterly devastated as he watched Loona guzzle the Merlot. He felt his body go weak and he fell backwards on the couch, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Millie was initially confused and extremely worried as to why her husband had just completely shut down and fallen over, but then turned her gaze to where he'd been looking and felt her blood boiling as she saw what their uninvited "guest" was doing in the kitchen. In an instant, shot up from the couch, slammed a hand down on the TV remote to pause the musical and dashed across the living room, accidentally nearly knocking Moxxie to the floor as she moved.

"Nope!" Millie shouted as she rushed into the kitchen. "Yer done! I am not lettin' ya get hammered in our apartment!" Once she was in range she reached up to grasp the bottle and attempted to wrestle it from the hellhound's claws, accidentally spilling wine on Loona's top and the floor as she jerked it away from her.

"What the fuck?!" Loona barked at her, growling as she felt the liquid soaking into her shirt and staining the gray fabric. "What is wrong with you, you psycho—"

"What's wrong with me?!" Millie scoffed as she planted the quarter-full wine bottle down on the counter next to her and crossed her arms. "What about you?! Ya show up at our door lookin' all ragged and shit, doin' yer best to look all pathetic to play at ma husband's heartstrings, and now ya think yer entitled to get smashed in our kitchen?! I—We—know how ya get when yer drunk, so get the fuck outta here before ya cause a fuckin' problem!" In the other room, Moxxie had finally recovered from his shock and, after sitting up again, was watching the unfolding altercation in quiet desperation.

"Playing at his heartstrings… You ever think that maybe I just actually feel like shit, huh?! That maybe—maybe I just wanted a place to fucking crash and maybe, just maybe, not feel like shit for one night?!"

"Then why here? Why us?! Why not just stay home, or if yer really desperate, why not go hang out with that guy who works for Verosika that you were dotin' on for a while, what's his name—"

"Vortex. And there's no fucking way he'd have me over, a-and… and… y'know what? Fuck you, I don't need to fucking explain myself! You want me gone so badly?! Fine, I'll fucking go!"

"Millie," Moxxie interjected, rising from the couch and making his way over to the kitchen while nervously wringing his hands. "W–Wait a second, let's just talk this out—"

"She's goin', Mox," Millie snapped at him, not breaking her eye contact with Loona. "This ain't a discussion, she needs to leave! If she can't even respect our boundaries, then she needs to go!" Loona snarled at her, baring her teeth and digging her claws into the counter nearby. "Ya want us to call Blitz and have 'im come pick ya up, or ya need one of us to walk ya home?"

"The fuck did you say about 'walking me?!'" Loona screamed, dragging her claws across the counter and leaving a large gash in the ceramic as she took a few menacing steps forward, overshadowing the smaller imp in front of her. "That what you think of me, huh?! Just a fucking dog?! You want me on a fucking leash too?!"

"If it'll keep ya from fuckin' with ma husband like ya have for the past week, then damn right I do!"

"Stop! J–Just, just stop, both of you!" Moxxie stepped between the two of them, shoving the two women apart from each other and rapidly glancing back and forth between them, attempting to keep his heart as calm as possible as his anxiety began kicking in in earnest. "This is getting way out of hand! Look, Millie, this is all my fault, a–and I… I need to be the one to fix it. I'm sorry." Millie sighed and shook her head at him before taking a few steps back and leaning against the counter with her arms crossed. Moxxie looked back over at Loona, his heart thumping in his chest even faster as he spoke. "Loona, i–if you want, I can take you home. Y'know, so you don't have to, um, be alone or anything like that. I promise that I won't tell Blitz about any of this."

For a moment, she was silent as she stared back at him, save for her ragged, heavy breathing. Moxxie mentally prepared himself for the possibility for her to commit acts of unspeakable physical violence against them, but beneath those rage-filled red eyes he swore that he saw a hint of softness in there, the same kind that he'd seen in her for a few precious moments all those weeks ago, a hidden vulnerability that betrayed the tough façade that always put. In that moment, he felt his heart ache for her again, much as it had before.

"Fine," she finally said, letting go of the counter and shoving past both Moxxie and Millie as she stomped towards the front door, her heavy footsteps rattling the apartment. Moxxie sighed and turned back towards Millie, a weak smile on his face as he opened his arms and stepped towards her to give her a hug. But before he could get close enough to wrap her up in an embrace, she quickly stepped back away from him, keeping her gaze averted from his to hide the welling tears as she let out a few sniffles.

"Honey…" Moxxie uttered, his voice timid and quiet. He tried once again to pull her into a hug, but again, she took a few steps back.

"Go," Millie spat. "Get her home." She turned her back to him and stormed off towards their bedroom, shutting the door behind her and leaving her heartbroken and guilt-ridden husband alone in the kitchen.

---

Moxxie followed Loona around a corner and onto another street, increasing his pace a bit to keep up with the hellhound, his little hooves clacking lightly on the hard sidewalk. She'd been doing her damndest to ignore him the entire time they'd been walking, but no matter how much distance she kept between them she could just feel him back there, as if his eyes were boring into the back of her skull. She decided to venture a glance over her shoulder at him and found that he was, indeed, looking back at her with those wide, bright yellow eyes of his.

"Stop staring at me," Loona growled, baring her teeth at him.

"S–Sorry." Moxxie quickly tore his gaze away, nervously scratching the back of his head behind his horns. Loona immediately felt a pang of guilt shoot through her stomach as she saw Moxxie's timid reaction and snapped her head back around, keeping Moxxie from seeing another round of tears that involuntarily dripped down her face. The sounds of his footsteps drawing closer and him clearing his throat made her body instinctively tense up and her claws began digging into her upper arms, almost hard enough to draw blood. "So, Loona, a-about earlier—"

"Shut up, okay? We're not having this fucking conversation, asshole." She sniffled as she futilely fought back more tears, walking faster as she did so Moxxie wouldn't be able to see. "I'm not gonna apologize, I'm not gonna make any fucking excuses, so just leave me the fuck alone."

"I just… I wanted to know if you liked the wine."

Loona slowed down as she felt her face relax as her anger was slowly replaced with confusion, eventually coming to a halt. She heard Moxxie come to a stop behind her, ever so slightly closer than he'd been before.

"What?" She asked, slowly turning around and letting her arms drop to her sides.

"Did you at least like the wine?"

Right. That.

She remembered how Moxxie had been trying to hide it from her earlier, how he'd begged her not to even think about drinking it. He'd literally almost passed out when he saw her chugging it, but if he was pissed about it, he was doing a damn good job of keeping it hidden, because there wasn't a hint of any anger or malice in that soft expression he was showing to her as he awaited her response. She felt her heart beat a little faster as she stared back at him, swallowing nervously as she tried to pull a few coherent thoughts out of the raging storm of hate and paranoia ravaging her mind.

"I guess?" She responded, her dry voice wavering ever so slightly. "It was, uh, really sweet? Yeah, it was sweet as fuck, but not really in a bad way? You know I drink harder shit than that." She cleared her throat and wiped a few tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, accidentally smudging a bit of the running black eyeliner down her cheek. "I liked it, though. Yeah. I'd have it again, but so fucking what? What does that have to do with anything?"

"I just want to make sure that you at least kind of enjoyed yourself earlier." He took a few steps closer; Loona didn't retreat backwards as he did, contrary to everything her instincts were screaming at her to do at that moment.

"Seriously, why the fuck do you care?! Don't bullshit me, because—because I know you're just pulling some pity bullshit again! Are you trying to guilt trip me or something, huh? Getting me to fucking apologize or some shit?! That might work with Millie, but that's only because she has a soft heart and a softer fuckin' skull! I already told you I'm not doing that shit! I'm not like that, got it?! So just—stop trying, asshole!"

Moxxie just stood there and stared at her, sighing and pursing his lips as he let her words hang in the air. She waited for him to snap at her, to finally cut the bullshit and let loose on her about how she'd "ruined his and Millie's night" and how much he hated her. That was what this was all about, right? Get her hopes up and then just make her feel like shit? Show her mercy, and then pull it back the moment she did something that was even slightly out of line?

That's what they all did, and she knew—or at least, told herself that she knew—that he was just the same as them.

But as second after agonizing second passed by without what she thought was the inevitable coming to pass, her expression softened and that deep pit in her stomach only deepened further. She turned her head away from him, crossing her arms and letting out a long, shaky exhale as she felt the pit in her stomach widen and widen.

He was serious.

He was fucking serious.

"Yeah," she muttered, her ears flipping back in embarrassment.. "I… I did."

"I'm glad," he responded, his voice soft, kind, and genuine in a way that she swore made her heart skip a few beats. Moxxie stepped closer to her, and again, she didn't make any move to get away from him. He was close, so close, only a couple of feet away from her and her body was telling her to get the fuck away from him while her mind gave her contradictory instructions to stay in place, to keep her cool, to let him come closer. "Your makeup is, um…"

"Yeah, I… I know."

"Are you okay?"

Loona stared at him for several seconds before turning on her heel and continuing to walk down the sidewalk, refusing to answer his inquiry. Moxxie followed her, staying close by her side, much closer than he'd been before. His presence was both infuriating and oddly comforting to her.

Maybe it was that latter feeling that she'd been after when she'd shown up at his door, loathe as she was to admit it even within the relative safety of her own mind. Last week he'd gotten to see a side of her that she'd never intended for anyone, much less him, to ever see, and he… he hadn't held it against her. He'd blown up on her, yeah, and she still kind of resented him for that, but he hadn't been wrong. He'd seen right through all those carefully-crafted barriers that she put up between herself and the world and found her wanting.

Maybe she just didn't want a repeat of last week's debacle. Maybe she'd thought that by being closer to Moxxie—no, to both him and Millie, she corrected herself—she would at least get a taste of what it felt like to not be a complete loner for once.

Maybe she just wanted to know what it felt like to have someone care.

But she wasn't supposed to feel like that about him! She was supposed to hate him, to despise everything about him and how stuck up and prudish and annoying he was all the time! Why did she—

"You know, um, I–I didn't mind having you there."

Loona's train of thought was broken by Moxxie's comment and she side-eyed him, raising an eyebrow as she did. He laughed nervously and fiddled with his hands.

"...Suuuure," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"I'm serious! If you, um, if you ever need to, y'know… not be alone again, I can talk to Millie in advance and we can, uh, work something out, maybe find a–a better time for it! O–Or if you need to, um, just talk about things, you have my number…" He trailed off as Loona kept giving him side-eye, suddenly feeling very flushed and embarrassed. "Sorry."

"You're fine." She sighed and took her eyes off of him, focusing on the apartment building coming into view not much further up the road. "I'll think about it."

"Really?"

"Don't push it."

"R–Right. Sorry."

"And stop saying sorry so much, sheesh. You sound like such a pussy."

"Hey, I—I am not that! I'm just being kind and considerate!"

"Okay, but why are you apologizing to me when you haven't done anything wrong?"

"I… Maybe I just… I don't know? I know you think I'm annoying and—"

"I think you're annoying because you get to go out and kill a bunch of shit and then you come back and act like a total fucking joke."

"…Oh."

The two of them crossed the street and headed through the front entrance of the run-down apartment building. Loona stepped into the cramped elevator and, once Moxxie had crammed himself inside beside her and pressed himself up against the wall to avoid any awkward physical contact with her, she slammed the worn, oddly sticky button for her floor with a clenched fist. After a short walk down the dank, dirty hallway, they arrived at her and Blitzo's apartment.

Loona grabbed the doorknob and began twisting it, but before she opened the door she froze in place, her body tensing up as what Moxxie had said earlier about being "kind and considerate" resurfaced in her mind.

"Loona?" Moxxie asked. "I–Is something wrong?"

Before she could stop herself, she exhaled and turned her head to look back at Moxxie, locking eyes with him one more time and feeling her ears flicking anxiously as her vice-like grip on the doorknob tightened, leaving indentations in the metal.

"T-Thanks," she whispered, her husky voice just audible enough for Moxxie to hear. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, but he never had the chance to respond. She quickly hid her face again as she shoved the door open and stormed into the apartment, violently slamming the door behind her. "FUCK!" He heard her scream from the other side, her voice piercing through the stale, musty air despite the separation between them muffling it ever so slightly. It was followed shortly after by the sound of several glass objects smashing, each one making Moxxie wince as his wiry tail tucked itself between his legs of its own volition. He slowly stepped back away from the door and, eager to get back home as soon as possible, scampered back down the hallway back towards the elevator.

---

The apartment was dead silent when Moxxie returned home, much like the first time he'd come back from making sure that Loona made it safely back to her place. He quietly slipped inside and carefully shut the front door behind him so as to not make any unnecessary loud noise.

"Millie…?" He asked, cautiously stepping further into the living room, his heart pounding in his chest. He was fully expecting Millie to come out and start laying into him at any moment. Understandably so, he thought to himself; he'd already accepted that he was to blame for their night together turning sour. He noticed that Millie had already cleaned their dinner off the coffee table and turned the TV off, along with all the lights. After everything that had happened, he didn't blame her for not wanting to pick up where they'd left off.

But as seconds passed with no response from her anywhere in the apartment, Moxxie started to become worried, his mind racing with possibilities, unrealistic and often nonsensical yet scary all the same, that something bad had happened to her while he was gone, even if the most likely case was that she'd just gone to sleep. He slinked through the living room and into the kitchen, noting how the dishes had already been done and were arranged neatly on a towel on the counter to dry off. The bedroom door on the other side was cracked open ever so slightly, so he nudged it open the rest of the way and tip-toed inside.

Millie was still awake. He saw her sitting on the edge of the bed on the far side dressed in her usual pajamas, her back hunched as she stared down at the floor with a forlorn expression on her face, her arms resting on her knees as her feet dangled a few inches above the floor. She didn't acknowledge him as he came in, her glowing yellow eyes glued to the floor as he took a few tentative steps towards her.

"Honey," he whispered breathlessly, taking a seat on the bed next to her. He reached over to wrap an arm around her shoulder, hoping that the physical contact would rouse her from her trance. She remained completely still, her expression unchanging. Moxxie sighed and nuzzled his face into her neck, trying his best not to cry from the overwhelming guilt that he felt building up inside of him.

"I'm sorry," Moxxie whispered shakily into her soft skin, rubbing his hand up and down her upper arm as he did. "T-This is my fault. I did this. I… I don't know what I can do to help you stop hurting." He sniffled and leaned harder into her, wiping a few stray tears with his other arm. "Please… say something, Millie…" Without warning, he felt her turn in his grasp before she threw all of her weight back against him, wrapping both of her arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug that almost squeezed all the air out of his lungs. She let out a choked sob as she buried her face in his shoulder, her fingers digging into his back as if to keep herself anchored to him forever.