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aoiremart:

He heard a sound.

It rang right through his mind, sharp as a knife and equally painful, but lasted just for a moment, too brief for him to correctly process it.

The sound left an unpleasant sensation in him, one Jack could, oddly enough, perceive with more than just his hearing.

It was in his mouth, sour and unpalatable.

It was in his paws, a tingle that made his fingers twitch unconsciously.

And… it was in his eyes, a picture which refused to come into focus for at least two full seconds. “What…”, he murmured, as the shimmering feeling vibrating in his whole essence slowly poured into wary, almost unsteady words, “What are you doing here, Walker?”

Cynthia was looking at him, not making a sound nor moving a single inch of her soft, beautiful body as she stood next to the window. The distances between them felt nullified by the way her amber eyes were focusing on him, piercing through his figure like pointy darts.

He felt nullified, and only pride prevented him from beating a retreat.

That, and the fact he was in his own office. “I believe I asked you a question”, he inquired, trying to sound firmer. “I would appreciate…”.

“I don’t care what you appreciate”. She suddenly spoke, with a voice that Jack had never heard coming from her; it filled the air around them, saturated every inch of him with subtle, mute anger. “We need to talk, Savage.”

“Not now, I’m afraid. I have a plane leaving for Mosca in four hours”, was his dry reply as he moved towards the desk, every single one of his steps feeling as heavy as ever. He dared not make eye contact with her a second time – the first had caught him unprepared and been enough to give him the shivers. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

“I’m not planning to make this conversation last for that long”. Jack felt her glare all over his body and soul as she pronounced those bitter words. “But I’m also not planning to let you get away from this.”

“I believe you’re mistaking something, Walker. There’s nothing I’m getting away from in the first place.”

“Is that so?” Cynthia asked, but it sounded like an accusation, more than an actual question. “I beg to differ, Mr. Savage.”

“Beg all you want, but it won’t change the facts”. He now was in front of his desk, trying to remember what item he was supposed to pick from the drawer.

But it was hard, because his thoughts kept squirming out of his control every time he tried to focus on something that wasn’t Cynthia Walker’s existence.

Cynthia Walker, in his office.

Cynthia Walker, armed – maybe literally – with anything but good intentions.

And he knew why, but chose to confine that awareness in the deepest recesses of his heart as Cynthia retorted sharply: “You just can’t live without that condescension of yours, right?” A hint of frustration painted that question in rhetoric, a rhetoric that scraped the hare’s ears, making something inside of him bleed. “You’ve always been like this: Haughty… full of yourself, and insensitive.”

“… Is that why you’re here, Walker?” Jack asked, as the first sliver of his heart pitifully crumbled under the blows of her verbal aggression, “To insult me?”

Continua a leggere

aoiremart:

That day, Maria O’ Connor was feeling in particularly high spirits. She had just flown back from Costa Rica, where she had carried out a kind of important mission – during which she had also managed to have a couple of sexual intercourses with a certain jaguar with two off-the-chain pecs – and now, she was heading to Gregory Kohle’s office to submit her report, as usual.

The delight was such that she almost thought she could do without her daily cig, but the very moment that idea crossed her mind, Maria just laughed her ass off in the empty hallway. “Hey, look, I’m turning into a health freak!” she claimed, the sound of that monumental bullshit echoing in the building like a sick joke. Oh, she was so humorous sometimes.

When she turned the corner, the elevator came into sight. Maria looked around, to check for the possible nearness of other mammals; then, found that she was alone on the floor, she decided to help herself to a lift, since, for once, she wouldn’t have been compelled to share it with someone else. But just then… another animal showed up, coming from the hall to the right, and stalked towards the elevator.

Maria kept the colorful swear which was purling in her throat for herself, but not the caustic remark that followed: “Hey, Bunnyboy, get out of the road. That’s my ride.”

Said bunny stopped dead in his track, and slowly met her eyes. Maria paid heed to his six black stripes on his face, three on each cheek, which instinctively reminded her of claw marks. As she approached him, she realized that it was just the color of his fur that looked that peculiar way in those spots.

But that wasn’t the only thing that she noticed.

He was tall – taller than her, but that was no wonder, since it didn’t take much to beat Maria in terms of height. Pleasurably slender, genteel; he was wearing a black suit, which enhanced his willowy figure, and his eyes, now that she saw them more closely, were ice blue, cold and keen.

“Excuse me”, he said, “I don’t think I understood”. There was no sign of hostility in his voice, that much was clear and obvious. However, his ears were perked high and his face was equal parts puzzled and attentive.

All things considered, he probably was an idiot. If anything, a hot idiot.

Continua a leggere

aoiremart:

“You know, Walker, I think I really like you.”

Cynthia closed the drawer of the desk with a thud and dropped against the backrest of her seat. What at the crack of dawn had manifested as a light headache, was now turning in a fully fledged migraine that, she knew, wouldn’t have given her a break until dark. 

But Cynthia had no time for headaches whatsoever. “Stella”, she called, a hint of suffering in her voice that the vixen would have rather concealed.

“Yes, ma’am?”, the ferret replied, popping up on her side with a glass of water in her small paws.

Cynthia gave a look at the glass and smiled a bit. “Is my migraine so noticeable?”

“It’s hard to not notice, actually. I believe that every mammal on this floor is aware of your discomfort by now, Ms. Walker”, was Stella’s comment, followed by a slight nodding as she proceeded to ask: “Did you already have breakfast?”

“Breakfast…? Ah”. Cynthia averted her eyes instinctively and mumbled: “I ate a cookie a little while ago… I think.”

“You think ?”

“Ok, maybe I didn’t. But I will, I promise. That is… after taking my medicine.”

“Medicines are meant to be taken in the fed state”, Stella quipped, impassive. “So, if you’re willing to swallow your paracetamol, you’d better eat something first.”

“I’m not hungry right now”, Cynthia said, although she knew that such a trivial excuse couldn’t work on her secretary.

And… it wouldn’t have worked on him , too, if he was in Stella’s position.

That thought yielded a vibrant sound inside her ribcage, something between a growl and a yelp. “What is this groan supposed to mean, ma’am?”, the ferret inquired.

In a spur of the moment, the vixen considered the possibility of telling Stella what was going through her mind: ‘ It means that Jack Savage is a damn idiot who raves about things he doesn’t even understand. And I’m dying to pack up, get on the first flight to Zootropolis, find that hare and rip him apart ’.

She thought it… but, unfortunately, that was all she could do. “Work”, she said instead. “The past few days have been quite… tough. But I’ll bounce back”, she promised, trying to give the ferret a positive smile.

Smile that, despite her best efforts, probably looked like an ungracious wince to the ferret, who just gave a little, exasperated sigh. “I’ll bring you a candy bar, and you’ll eat it all . Only then you will take your pill” she said, putting the glass of water over Cynthia’s desk.

Before Cynthia could reply, Stella had already headed towards the so-called “Emergency Supply” – which basically was a lockbox containing all sorts of sweets, saved specifically for those occasions when Cynthia needed to eat something, but her stomach had a different opinion on the matter.

Needless to say, only Stella had access to this special supply, to prevent the vixen from assaulting it in the opposite case… that is, when she got the munchies. Which had recently started to happen at an alarming rate. “Stella”, Cynthia called her again.

“Yes?”

“Just… thank you. I don’t know how I’d be if you weren’t here to keep me in line.”

“I’m pretty sure someone else would”, was the ferret’s aseptic reply, as she rummaged in the lockbox.

A light laugh escaped her. “I have my doubts, but thank you for the confidence you placed in my socializing skills.”

“They’re still better than those of a certain someone…”. A sudden touch of animosity crept in Stella’s voice and made Cynthia’s ears slightly rise in curiosity.

“Who do you mean?”, the vixen asked, although those words tasted like unpleasant rhetoric in her mouth.

“I don’t think this question needs an answer. I don’t want to ruin your day even more by naming mammals one can easily refrain from talking about, after all.”

“…”. Indeed, the thought of talking about Jack had already been discharged by Cynthia who, in order to preserve her already faltering mental sanity, would have done better to pretend the hare’s existence was on a par with a quantum phenomena, something that was fair to forget about until proven otherwise. ‘ If I don’t see him, I can safely pretend he doesn’t exist ’. That sort of thing. “I’m obliged to agree with you”, she eventually said, stretching a paw to reach the candy bar Stella was now lending to her. “Thank you, Stella.”

“This is the second time you thank me within three minutes. Are you sure you don’t need a chamomile too, in addition to paracetamol?”

“Ugh, I hate chamomile”, Cynthia grumbled, carefully unwrapping the candy bar. “It tastes like nothing. It’s like drinking hot water.

“I wasn’t wondering if chamomile was to your liking, but if it could help you deflate your overblown…  passionateness, ma’am.”

“Mh”. Cynthia sniffed the candy bar, then gave it a little nibble, to test the limits of the nausea which was putting knots in her stomach. But when the sweetness of the snack melted in the vixen’s mouth, she felt a sense of relief, as if part of her tension had just slipped away from her body. “Ingesting food or drink I don’t like irritates me”, Cynthia commented, chewing on the bar with a little more enthusiasm.

“Good grief…”. Stella shook her head, exasperated. “Ms. Walker, let me tell you that I find your approach to nutrition really immature for your age.”

In response to such honest – and unexpected – criticism, Cynthia gave the ferret a quite astonished look. “Stella, did you just… call me childish , basically?”

“Not you directly, but your way to perceive sustenance.”

“Well…!”, she rumbled, before swallowing up the second – and wider – bite of candy bar, “I have my reasons. Don’t you start too, please.”

Realizing she had probably stepped outside her role of secretary, Stella nodded briefly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother you”, the ferret apologized. Then, she moved to return to her workstation. “However”, she added, “I told you this for your own good, ma’am. A healthy diet could help you with your recurring mood disorders.”

“You just sounded so like Jack…”. The sentence left Cynthia’s lips before her self-control could seize it, smack it and finally lock it up in the same dump it had squeezed out from without her consent.

She’d have gladly bitten her tongue… but Stella’s glare hit her before she could find the time to do as much. “ Jack ?”, she hissed. “Did you perhaps compared me with Mr. Savage, ma’am?”. The apparent calm in her voice was filled with wrath as much as Cynthia’s stomach was now filled with gastroesophageal reflux.

The vixen gulped, with the glaze of her snack suddenly feeling like glue inside her mouth. “Wouldn’t… dream of it”, she mumbled, before coughing to unclog her throat. “I was just saying. I could never compare you with J— Savage .”

Stella’s eyebrows had just took the form of a gliding eagle. “You’re doing it again.”

“That’s not true! … I mean, what was I doing again?”

“You know what, ma’am.”

“No, no, I really don’t know.”

“You’re lying .”

Cynthia crossed her arms over her chest and raised her muzzle, trying to take a leading position in the debate. “This is a serious charge, Ms. Rogers. Do you have any supporting evidence of your claim?”

“… Everything about your behavior is an evidence, I’m afraid”. Pity and resignation could be glimpse in Stella’s eyes, but Cynthia wasn’t even sure those new emotions were better than the killing aura that had passed over her face like a eerie shadow just a few seconds ago. “If I may be so bold, ma’am… you should definitely put that mammal out of your head. For your own sake.”

“Wha—?!”. Her exclamation had the same musicality of a rusted hinge, even the same taste of iron and dirt. “I… I don’t know what you mean, Stella.”

“Do you?”, she quipped.

“I do. I mean, I don’t!”. She was getting so flustered – and what was worst, she didn’t even know why – her head felt like it was about to explode. “Anyway, I believe it’s nothing that concerns you. I can perfectly handle myself.”

“I wonder… if it’s true”. This time, Cynthia sensed a hint of sadness in her voice. “I admit that I’m feeling a little worry about you. When it comes to him, you always look like you’re about to have a mental breakthrough.”

It was curious how they had actually ended up talking about Jack Savage – which was something they both agreed to not do – but secretly doing their best to avoid calling him by his name during the conversation. It almost made her laugh in suffering. “It’s because I can’t stand him, but I have to”, she sighed. “He’s so dense, selfish and stubborn. Unpredictable… and obscure. Sometimes I really want to…”.

And then… those cursed words were echoing inside her aching head, again and again: ‘ You know, Walker, I think I really like you ’.

‘ No, you don’t ’ , she silently argued. ‘You probably have no idea what it really means to like someone. You call me, ask for advice, try to guess trivia about me, and then… why are you like this? ’

“Ms. Walker?”

Cynthia came back to her senses abruptly enough to have her head spinning. “W-what is it?”

The ferret was looking at her with rather concerned eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Of course”, she lied. “Now, please, get back to work.”

“But, you just… became silent all sudden”. It was clear that Stella was doing her best to not push Cynthia more than she had already done. Indeed, right after that she murmured: “No… nevermind. I’ll get back to work, as you asked”. Stella made a little nod, averting the vixen’s eyes. “… I apologize for my importunity, ma’am.”

Cynthia shrugged. “It’s okay. I also apologize for making you worry about my condition”. She casually glanced at the clock on the wall… and made a considerable effort to keep her unpleasant groan confined in her chest. “Stella… would you mind confirming me that I have an appointment with Colonel Kohle in fifteen minutes?”

“That’s right”, said the ferret. “You remembered on your own, this time. What a rare event.”

‘ Unfortunately, it seems I’ve a tendency to remember the most unpleasant things ’. “It’s all thanks to the candy bar you made me eat”, Cynthia smiled. “Maybe I should start having breakfast regularly, after all.”

“Even so, you still haven’t took your medicine, Ms. Walker”. Stella pointed to the tiny, white capsule of paracetamol on her desk, next to the – still untouched – glass of water. “The candy bar wasn’t enough, I gather.”

“Oh…”. This time, the vixen couldn’t help but manifest her fatigue with a deep, tired sigh. “… Jesus Christ.”

“I hardly believe He’s listening, ma’am.”

“Oh, you bet He isn’t”. Cynthia chuckled as she picked the pill and finally swallowed it with a single sip of water. “He probably has other businesses to take care of. And now”, she continued, getting up from her chair, “I’ll proceed to take care of mine.”

“Please don’t push yourself more than is necessary, Ms. Walker. Otherwise, I expect your head to explode without prior warning.”

“Oh, it’d be awful to have my head exploding before that of a certain mammal. I must prevent it from happening”. Cynthia massaged her eyebrows, mentally preparing herself to her meeting with Gregory. It wasn’t gonna be easy, and the vixen was perfectly aware of this fact; still, she had to do everything she could to continue her investigation. By then, it had became a matter of principle. “Oh, yes”, she said when she reached the door, “care to have lunch together later, Stella?”

“I wouldn’t mind”, Stella replied. “That is, if you’re not planning to make me eat chips and candies.”

“Hey, I don’t—! It just happens once in a week.”

“I’m pretty sure there were seven days in a week, the last time I checked.”

“Stella!”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“You…”. Cynthia shook her head, concealing ad amused smile which wouldn’t have been appropriate in that context. “I’ll take you in a nice place for lunch, and then you’ll apologize for your sarcasm, my little ferret.”

“Okay”, she simply said. “See you later, then.”

“Right. See you later”. Cynthia exited her office, still trying to gather her resolution – which was being undermined by her rough migraine – as the thought of confronting Gregory started to build a subtle nervousness in her.

But Cynthia would’ve gotten to the bottom of that story, once and for all.

___________________________________

if you’re wondering where the first sentence of the story comes from (“You know, Walker, I think I really like you”), it’s because you didn’t read Exhausting phonecall – which would be a huge shame, actually.

I think this is the first time I show you a consistent interaction between Cynthia and Stella, her secretary. It also is the first time I make Rem draw such a smiling Cycy! She’s cute, isn’t she? ❤ This story is settled right after Episode 7 of BJ and hints to something going on that will be very important in the sequel.

Anyway, infodump aside, I want to thank you for your support, because it’s your encouragement that makes me want to write more and more, even if English is not my native language – I think you can feel it in my stories. Really, I’m so grateful to all of you. See you tomorrow with, hopefully, a 💕 S. Valentine 💕 art!

For the original link of the story on AO3, go here.

For the other stories and comics, please visit this page: 📚 AoiRemArt Comics & Stories

Please remember that this is aoimotion and rem289’s common blog, in which we’ll post all our works made together, past and future!
For more information, check this post: ❣️ AoiRemArt Inauguration

Author: aoimotion
Drawings: rem289

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aoiremart:

“It was very kind of you to invite me here, Colonel.” Jack slightly bowed his head, then looked around with discretion. “I have to say you have a nice mansion.”

“Don’t be so formal, my boy.” Gregory Kohle gave him a firm, yet kind smile as he closed the door. “Today you’re here as a guest, so relax and enjoy your stay.”

“Yes sir” Jack said, then he corrected himself: “I mean… yes, thank you for the opportunity.”

“Jack…” the dog sighed, “is this the first you got invited to someone’s house?”

The hare nodded.

“Ok, so here’s a tip: don’t look like you’re inspecting the scene of a crime. It’s kind of… awkward.”

“Oh. Oh.” Jack slightly scratched his neck, now unsure of where he was supposed to look… and how. “I apologize for my rude behavior.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Colonel shook his head, sighing again. “Now, let me show the house” he said, and began to walk.

“With pleasure.” Jack followed him, and the two mammals left the entrance.

“Come to think of it” started the dog, “I never introduced my wife to you.”

“I don’t know her, sir” he confirmed.

“She’s the most beautiful creature in the world” Gregory continued. “My most precious and inestimable treasure.”

“I see” Jack replied. But, to be honest, it was extremely difficult for him to conceive such a deep and strong feeling. However, he knew – by hearsay – that mammals fall in love with each other, and that’s how babies come from. So, his understanding of the matter was, if anything, academically correct.

“Oh, also: there is another mammal that you should meet. However, she…” At that moment, they were close enough to the salon for the voice coming from the inside being audible in the corridor.

Or, more correctly… the voices.

Jack, who was walking behind the colonel, suddenly stopped moving. Gregory noticed it and stopped too. “That voice…” Jack murmured. His ears involuntarily reacted to the sounds coming from the salon and he moved toward them, almost pushed by an invisible force. Behind him, the colonel merely followed him without saying a word.

“… Here” a voice was speaking; one Jack didn’t know. “Here’s the difficult part. Do you want me to play it again?”

“No, I guess I got it” said the other voice – this time, it sounded so familiar to him. So incredibly familiar. Yet, at the same time, incredibly distant. Whose voice was that? Jack stepped forward, but he didn’t enter the salon.

“You know, you can come in.”

“Ah…” Jack sighed and turned to the Colonel. “I’m sorry, I was… huh?” He found himself listening, for the familiar voice had started talking again.

“Well, let’s see…” Those words were followed by the sound of some notes played on the piano. The tune was pretty, but then it stumbled and the voice protested: “Ugh, I played it wrong again.”

“It’s all right, don’t worry.”

“But…”

“Don’t rush, Cynthia. I’m sure that with a little practice you’ll be able to play it in no time.”

‘Cynthia…?’ That name rang a bell in Jack’s head, and he quietly whispered: “She wouldn’t happen to be…?”

“Yup.” Colonel’s big, brown paw gently rested on his shoulder, but the hare still jumped a bit when he felt his touch. “So, you still remember her.”

“… How couldn’t I remember?” Jack asked, after a moment of hesitation. It was really her, then. The vixen he had met in that camp. The vixen he had saved in that camp. A sincere smile slowly appeared on his lips. “She seems to be fine, I’m glad.”

“Why don’t you go and say hello?” The dog asked, nodding to him towards the salon. “C’mon, don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid” Jack replied, promptly. “It’s just… I don’t think she remembers who I am. It’s not like we talked a lot or anything, so…”

“Oh, such pain and sorrow” Gregory claimed, but the laughter that was coming out of his mouth was neither painful nor sorrowful. “Well then, why don’t you stay hidden behind the wall while I go inside and congratulate with Cynthia?”

“Wait—!” Jack tried to reach Gregory’s sleeve, but the dog had already stalked into the salon with two powerful footsteps. He followed Colonel’s movements until his eyes caught a glimpse of a white silhouette and he completely hid behind the wall. ‘But why am I hiding?’ He asked to himself, feeling stupid for some reasons. He then tried to join Gregory, naturally… but his feet were suddenly glued to the floor and he couldn’t take one single step into the room.

Meanwhile, Cynthia was saying: “Oh, were you listening, Gregory? Sorry, the song didn’t come out very… well.”

“Really? It sounded perfect to me. What’s your opinion, Professor Northwood?”

“She was playing just fine, until this point. But it’s okay, it’s a complicated melody, and that passage is pretty tricky.”

“You see? If Cecilia says so…”

“What nonsense” replied Cynthia, dryly. “You shouldn’t never give up just because someone says it’s difficult.”

‘Very well said!’ Jack agreed, delighted, inside his head… and that sudden brain activity reminded him that he was basically eavesdropping a conversation behind a wall for no better-identified reasons, and a sense of deep and distressing discomfort hit him like a speeding train.

“With your current experience, darling, it would be virtually impossible to play this piece with no mistakes” said the gentle voice of Colonel’s wife.

“Hey, I got an idea. If you have difficulties in playing that specific part, why don’t you try to sing it?”

“Sing… it?” Cynthia asked. “But, hum…”

“Gregory could be right. If you try to sing the tricky part, you could get acquainted with the melody itself and play it on the piano more smoothly.”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea, to be honest.” Her voice had become uncertain – now it was very different from the one that just a minute ago had spoken of courage and bravery. “I don’t even know the lyrics…”

“I’ll teach you. Honey, would you please get me the book on my bedside table? The one with the green binding.”

“Of course.” Jack heard Colonel’s steps approaching him and flattened – in vain – against the wall.

When Gregory saw him, he just laughed. “Are you still looking for a good reason to come in, Jack?”

“Well, I…”

“Don’t worry” the dog interrupted him, “you’ll find a valid one very soon.” Then he moved away, humming the motive that Cynthia was playing before.

He came back a little later, holding what looked like a quite old book. The binding was a bit ruined, but it must have been of a beautiful emerald green in the past. Gregory glanced at him and winked, then disappeared into the salon.

“Here it is.”

“Thank you, darling. So, let’s see…” Jack heard the sound of thick paper pages being flipped. “Found it! As for the tricky part…”

“It should be this.”

“Right, good girl. So, I play the part of the right paw, which is the most complicated, and you play the left one as you sing. Is it okay with you?”

“I’m still not convinced…” the fox mumbled, sulking.

“Now, now” Gregory said, “the audience wants to hear you sing!”

“And the audience would be… you two?”

“Who knows.” Gregory laughed, shortly followed by his wife.

“… Whatever.” Cynthia sighed, then said: “Shall we play?”

“Whenever you’re ready.” Cecilia replied.

Cynthia cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and then… she began to sing.

You are not the fool, no

You’re a beautiful one

You’re like the sun

‘Cause this one river flows in you

You are not the no one

You just look for more here

Who does care because you are the one

With it inside…

It was the most beautiful song Jack had ever heard in his life. Not that he had heard so many people singing, but he was positively sure that very few voices could match that beauty.

The melody she was chanting danced inside his ears, leaving a warm sensation, like a kind caress. Jack relaxed and slowly sat on the floor, eyes closed, concentrating all his senses on the vixen’s voice. There were no words that could explain the emotion he was feeling – something between pure bliss and melancholy, something that reminded him of memories of a long time ago. Joyful memories, sad memories, even angry memories. But everything was blended just so perfectly that he couldn’t figure out what kind of feeling was the one ultimately blazing inside his chest. But he didn’t care, because his only desire was to listen to Cynthia’s beautiful voice as long as he could.

Then, the song came to an end. Jack opened his eyes as if he had awakened from a dream and stared at the wall in front of him with an empty expression… that slowly filled up with the only emotion he could feel after listening to Cynthia’s singing: wonderment.

He suddenly got up and, without even indulging in a single change of heart, rushed into the room.

… Well, actually, just the first three steps were fast. Because, when he noticed the look on the three mammals’ faces – each one showing a different emotion – his pace slowed down to the point he eventually stopped… and barely held back the urge to turn around and go on the run.

And so, since he lacked the courage to move on as much as he lacked the courage to run away, he just stayed there, his mind trying to come up with an effective way to start the conversation and his throat shrinking in the meantime; in the end, when he tried to start his unrehearsed speech, the only thing which came out of his lips was a pitiful rattle.

“Oh, Jack, you finally decided to show up!” Gregory laughed and came towards him, perhaps perceiving his temporary disability. The dog put an arm around his thin shoulders and asked: “Cynthia, do you remember him?”

A part of Jack really wanted to scream. Another part questioned that uncool urge and requested a diagnosis on Jack’s brain, but the recesses of his mind didn’t return any positive feedback.

“…” Cynthia, still sitting on the piano stool, stared at him with astonished eyes. “You… you are…” She slowly raised a finger and pointed at herself; then, she pointed at him. “You were… there.”

Jack instantly figured out what she was talking about and nodded. “Yeah, that’s right. I was… there” he repeated, finding no better way to articulate the sentence.

The two looked at each other for a while, until Cynthia blinked, slightly shook his head and… “Wait, were you hiding behind the wall all this time?”

“Huh? N-no, I wasn’t hiding!” Jack replied, realizing on which subject the conversation had just been steered. “I was just, you know… waiting.”

Cynthia looked at him with suspicion. “For what?”

“Well…” Jack scratched his cheek. “For the right moment… I suppose?”

“To…?”

“To…” he coughed, feeling his throat clogged. “… Come and greet you.”

For a moment – a long, looong moment – Jack feared further objections from the vixen. But Cynthia, after giving him a final, penetrating glance from head to toe, just replied “Okay” and turned to the piano again.

Jack looked at her back, confused, then turned his gaze to Cecilia Northwood, who shrugged with a smile. “Jack, would you like something to drink?” she asked.

“A tea… would be perfect” he said, still a little stunned.

“Oh, just like a true-born Englishmammal!” She giggled, then proceeded to leave the salon.

Next to him, Greg gave him a small pat on his shoulder and winked. “It went well, didn’t it?” He whispered.

“I… have my doubts, Colonel.”

“Nah, I think she likes you.”

“What?” Jack raised his head and looked at the dog with horror. “I-In what sense?” He realized he had raised the tone of his voice because Cynthia was glancing at him with questioning eyes. He gave her a half smile, then went back to Gregory: “What… what do you mean?”

The colonel laughed. “Just kidding, my boy. Don’t worry!” He gave him another pat and walked away from him, towards Cynthia. “Why don’t you start going in the living room for the tea? We’ll reach you soon.”

Jack saw him approaching the vixen and murmur something in her ear. At first, she shook her head, but then she dropped her shoulders and started to rise from the stool. At that moment, Jack jumped away, to the living room, with a speed that actually surprised himself.

___________________________________

I must thank Rem for the concept of this story; it was her who told me: “I want to read the first time Jack heard Cynthia playing the piano!”. “Say no more, girl”. So, that’s how Wordement was born. 💕

Actually, I believe Cycy is not very good at playing the piano, even now during the current events of the BJ timeline. Mostly because she stopped practicing when she entered the GSD. But singing… is definitely a talent of her. Cynthia’s lung capacity is amazing, which surely helps her achieving good results in this field.

For the other stories and comics, please visit this page: AoiRemArt comics & stories!