It's been two weeks since the wedding, and I've yet to receive my wallet, ID cards, backpacks, or, yet again, phone. A certain someone has clearly no intention of sending them over.
To begin with, does Miria even know Jordan's address? I kind of doubt it. And I don't feel like calling her to ask. If she doesn't know, I'd rather she stay ignorant, too. It ensures she can never pop up on our doorsteps.
That's a nightmarish thought.
But in any case, I do need those IDs. Up to now, I haven't had to use them as I've been cloistered in Jordan's house, but in this day and age, you can't do shit without those.
For example, I kinda need a driver's licence if I want to drive around town.
It doesn't mean that I can't drive without it. As long as I don't get caught, there's no problem. The thing is, I don't trust my luck.
Yeah, no, I need those IDs.
So, I go upstairs to Jordan's office.
It's nap time, and I've finally gotten a bit of free time—a rare thing in this household.
Thankfully, Jordan's working from home today, making it easy to talk. Although, honestly, I'd rather not meet with him. I've been avoiding him like the plague since that night, and I plan on continuing to do so in the future.
I do force myself to interact with him in front of the kids, but never more than necessary.
In any case, whether I like it or not, I need to ask for his help with the ID cards. I don't even know where the heck I am in the city, much less where the goddamn government offices are.
Sigh.
Nowadays, you can't figure out shit without a phone or a computer, and I have neither.
I knock on the door, and a moment later, a 'come in' echoes. So, I go in.
"Sorry to bother you, but I need help to recover my IDs. I might not need them right now, but…"
My voice trails as my gaze lands on Jordan's desk. There's a file open on it, with pictures of what seems to be crime scenes. I frown at the bloody corpses and chalked silhouettes. Jordan, most likely realizing what I'm looking at, flips the pictures over quickly.
Right, that's none of my business.
"Todd is free tomorrow and can drive you around, if it's alright with you. If you need to redo all of your IDs, you'll need to visit a few offices, and they're not exactly next door to each other."
"Sure, it's fine by me. Thank you."
"My pleasure."
There's a second a silence, and I'm about to veer on my heel to leave when he clears his throat.
What now?
"But would you mind taking the children along with you? I fear the tantrums they might throw if you leave the house without them."
"…Right."
In the first place, would they even let me leave the house on my own? These two are sticking to me like my shadow, to the point where I'm surprised they haven't yet insisted on sleeping with me at night. They're that clingy.
At the very least, Jordan knows how to read the room and keep his distance from me.
***
Never again am I bringing the kids to a goddamn boring government office. I don't care if I have to deal with a crying fit; it's always better than trying to keep the kids from running around the whole damn place. At least, they've got the decency not to fly. I wouldn't know how to explain that to people.
Seriously, the rude clerks are already a pain to deal with; no need to add turbulent children to the lot! What the hell was I thinking?!
"Would you like something to drink?"
Todd's calm voice draws my attention to him. Right now, I'm sitting on a bench while the kids are busy playing in the mall's indoor playground.
I throw my head backward to meet the man's indifferent eyes. The shadow of his true form lightens the black of his pupils, and the pale blue of his irises is prominent, almost fading in the white of his eyes.
…As always, his eyes are but a perturbing sight. The saving grace is the cold indifference in them.
"Yeah, I could do with a black coffee."
"I'll be right back."
The chauffeur turns around and walks to the café on the left side. I haven't even noticed it.
Whatever. A bit of respite is—
A thud sound, then some wailing.
Goddamn it. I wince as I snap back my head to the playground, only to see some unknown brat bawling his eyes out.
Huh? What's going on?
I don't even have the time to wrap my mind around what has happened, that a woman is already beside the crying boy. His mother, most likely.
Alright, alright, let's see what's—
A second later, she starts to hurl insults at the kids before them.
"YOU FRIGGING MORONS!"
Not scolding or reprimanding the kids; literally cursing at them. A string of insults leaves her mouth while the boy keeps on wailing.
I'm stunned.
The fuck is wrong with her?!
I can already see the tears welling in Ellena's and Elois's eyes from my angle, despite their lowered heads. They say nothing and just endure with pinched lips.
No, no, no, don't you dare do this to the kids.
"Oi, what's your problem?! They're children! Speak properly!"
It's my turn to raise my voice as I run toward the group, swiftly pulling the children into my arms. They now cling to my legs, burying their heads against my thighs. I can feel their shoulders trembling.
"Are you their dad? Great. Just great. No wonder they're so pathetic. Don't you know how to raise kids? And don't you have any shame?!
"Sorry, what?"
"Your dumb kids hurt my baby, for crying out loud!"
Hurt? Your boy seems perfectly fine to me. There's not a single scratch on him.
"Hurt?"
"Are you blind? Don't you see he fell because of them?!"
"He fell on a padded floor."
The thing's squishy as hell under our feet. There's no way he actually hurt himself, especially since he seems to have fallen on his butt while standing.
"That's not the point! Your kids refused to give him their place on the swing when they'd been using it for five minutes already, and when he tried to push them out of the way, he bounced back and fell! My poor boy got hurt!"
I'm dumbfounded.
Like, literally.
Can she even hear herself? Her boy tried to forcefully remove the kids, and when he failed, he fell like an idiot and started to bawl his eyes out. Who's in the wrong here is quite easy to guess.
I mean, if the children had any intention to hurt your little gremlin, he'd be dead by now. You too, for all that matters.
"So, your monkey attacked my kids, and after failing miserably, he's trying to play the victim. Yeah. Got it."
Her face is turning red, and the other parents' whispers travel to our ears. Not many are taking her side, especially not those who have seen everything. The word 'Karen' is on quite a few tongues, too.
How surprising.
I think she's starting to figure out she won't win, so she huffs and drags her brat elsewhere. Good riddance.
Now, I've got to handle the children. They've been silently crying against my pants, so I crouch down to be at eye level with them. Honestly, they've done well. Demon kids aren't all that proficient in controlling their strength, even in human forms.
Instead of lashing out and risking hurting the boy and his mother, they've kept quiet. That's the best course of action they could have taken.
"Shh, it's fine. It's not your fault."
I'm not surprised when the dams burst and they jump into my arms to wail on my shoulders, smearing snot and whatnot on my shirt, while somehow managing to cling to my neck. I'm starting to get used to this. These guys are crybabies, not at all like the terrifying image people associate with demons.
"…Scott? Is that you?"
A familiar voice calls, and while still crouching to hold the kids, I crane my neck backward to meet the newcomer's eyes.
"Oh, hello. It's been a while."
Here comes an acquaintance I haven't seen in a long time. But for once, it's not one of those I wish to rip the head off.