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P Corp’s Nest is known for its nightlife, beauty, and the carefree attitude of its citizens. Dante thought they would love this. Unfortunately, Rodion loves all of those things, and she’s been dragging Gregor into it all night, and thank whatever divine powers there be that it ended amicably, otherwise they’d wish they were on vacation.
It started innocently enough. The two Sinners being joined at the hip was far from an unusual sight. The two always had some unseen, almost psychic connection to each other since they first met. Rodion’s devil-may-care persona (even if that’s all it was, a persona) oddly paired well with Gregor’s more reserved nature. The teasings were abundant as such.
Regardless of that, the entire company was generally excited about their stay in P Corp. Dante didn’t know it yet, but the reputation was spectacular. It was the spotlight of vacations and movies alike. Some weeks in Don Quixote’s old stomping grounds would surely prove fruitful. As per usual, the first day was spent traveling to fill out some bureaucratic paperwork. Vergilius was kind enough to take the lead. Unusually kind, even, as he let the team take a break while he went into some office or other. The sinners and Dante were free to roam the nearby town center.
And SOMEHOW , with some sneaky move, Rodion of course slipped into the liquor store, used her own ahn to buy a good sized bottle of clear agave booze, and stealthily carried it around all day. She was lucky to have a party to bring it to.
Now, it’s important to set up the scene of this party. It was a gracious invitation from a very important corporate partner with the LCB, a fact Vergilius repeated many times throughout his speech about it, and as such everyone was to be on their best behavior. Each sinner was provided a formal outfit to attend. While Heathcliff silently fought down his feelings about it, remembering his recent visit to Wuthering Heights, everyone else was ecstatic to be wearing something different. Rodion found herself in a lovely velvet dress and jacket, with a neck low enough to show off the top of the heart tattoo on her chest, and Gregor found himself with a typical tuxedo with long sleeves which covered up a decent bit of his prosthetic arm.
“Ah, Gregor, you look lovely!~”
“Heh, thank you.”
From there, the influence started.
Dante first noticed it when Gregor became unusually chatty. The announcement put a spark in the atmosphere upon Mephistopheles, so it wasn’t too surprising to see him get swept up in it. While he hid the end of his arm to his side or behind his back, the lightened mood was a good omen for his public appearance. He never liked to go out too much, as it seemed someone always commented on his appearance. Perhaps it would be different here, though. Dante hoped for his sake.
The second sign was when he stumbled into the group table. It was roughly an hour after the party had started, and without a doubt, it was the most fun anyone had in ages! If the mission at a J Corp casino was an odd blast, this event was just straight-up enjoyable. It was hosted in a ballroom, one with a grand piano, tiled floors, a merging staircase, orange chandelier light, all housed in an exterior of yellow stone and wooden roofs in that famous P Corp architectural style. It would be the perfect venue for a masquerade ball. There was a red carpet to the open, arching door where Charon dropped them off, and it really made the sinners feel like celebrities. And sure enough, when they went inside, the sizable crowd already present gathered closer, looking on at the fixer team which was surely making a name for themselves!
Dante was happy to let them run free. They decided to stay back and sit by their assigned table, with Ishmael, Heathcliff and Meursault staying behind as well. Everyone else was happy to walk away (except for Outis, who Rodion had to drag away to go socialize). Some waiters came by and offered drinks, awkwardly eyeing Dante with their mouthless clock head. The three others happily took them instead. They all sipped and chatted, taking some pleasure in people watching. Many of the attendees were clearly from the Nest, chatting among themselves in their native language.
“This is quite the sophisticated thing, huh?” Ishmael commented.
Heathcliff nodded in response. He was about to make a return remark when Gregor suddenly smashed into the edge, almost knocking down the remainder of his wine with it.
“Oi!”
Gregor scrambled to get back on his feet. He clearly had lost his sense of bodily control, since he almost slipped just grabbing the table to set himself straight. He muttered a quick sorry, then steadied himself further.
“Are you alright?” Ishmael asked. “That was a harsh hit.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Gregor dismissed. “Just awfully clumsy today.”
Heathcliff muttered “Well, bloody watch yourself…you almost knocked out my glass here.”
“I advise you to heed his advice, since red wine is widely known to be difficult to remove, especially on fabrics,” Meursault advised.
“Heh, sorry,” Gregor concurred. “Y’know, I’m not often a drinker, you all know I prefer a smoke, but tonight I made an exception.”
“<Just don’t overdo it.>” Dante ticked away. That information was somehow surprising and completely expected. There might be some nasty hangovers come morning from the more hedonistic sinners, but Gregor could be trusted with moderation. “<Probably not more if you’re already stumbling, though…>”
“Rodion had this bottle-”
“Rodion?” Heathcliff interjected.
“Rodion, yeah. Did you not realize nobody’s taking the wine? She got this, tequila I think, and it’s damn strong. Good, though, but strong.”
The four at the table looked hard at the crowd. Most of the attendees were in various states of inebriation, many drunkenly performing P Corp’s various famous dance styles together, which was the expected course of such a party. They did notice, though, as Gregor had said, not a single one of those curved glasses was in sight. Some folks had a smaller glass, though…
As soon as they realized, Outis came sprinting toward them. The suit she was given had a small crimson rose pinned to the front, and it was loosely billowing in the air as she bounded over. She stumbled as she quickly stopped herself before slamming into the table like Gregor had before her. Catching her breath, she spurted out some words.
“Manager!! Rodion, she-!”
“Is evidently giving people alcohol?” Ishmael asked.
“Yes!! It must be a clear violation of company policy! By principle, we are representatives of Limbus Company at this event, and if our partner notices, what will they say?”
Meursault gave his usual glare towards her. While never malicious, it was sharp enough to shut her up. “I believe now is the time company hours would have ended. While we may be representatives, it can also be seen as rude to refuse the offerings at an event. Therefore, if Rodion’s only action has been drinking and letting others drink, I cannot find any reason for an issue unless it further escalates.”
“But..but…she must have smuggled it in.”
“If so, that is not our business. Please let us know when she does harm.”
With that, Outis huffed and stormed away.
“<Damn…>”
For a moment, nothing was said. The band playing continued on, which the sinners had been able to drone out with their conversation and somehow hadn’t registered. The crowd was getting rowdy as the music swelled, so now it was impossible to ignore! Everyone sat in their peaceful corner, except for Gregor, who stood.
The third sign was when Rodion suddenly appeared at the table. She must have silently crept over, or her heels must have been drowned out by the millions of other background sounds, because when she went “Hello!” Ishmael almost fell out of her chair.
“The hell!” she yelped.
“Ah, sorry dear,” Rodion said. “Didn’t mean to startle ya! I just came over to say hi, see how everyone was doing- it's quite lively out there, and truthfully, I’m getting exhausted!”
She slumped herself onto one of the many free chairs, leaning deeply in the backrest. Her demeanor hadn't changed one bit. The only indicator that she was in a non-sober state was her extra flush cheeks.
There was another silence around the group for a moment. Rodion got her time to recuperate before she straightened herself up.
“<How is it out there?>” Dante asked.
“Just wonderful! Everyone out there’s so grateful. Humble enough, but all up for a good time.”
Heathcliff crossed his arms, which prompted the attention onto him. “I thought about asking you later, since I figured most of the lads and lasses here would be of high status. Makeup of most of these things.”
“The host must be of such,” Meursault agreed.
“Of course. But everyone’s just here for a good time.”
For a moment, a flash of discontent went over Rodion’s face. With her next blink, she forced herself back into a cheerful mood. For that microsecond, Dante panicked, but was quickly relieved.
“Well, even if so, I’m definitely the fan favorite now!”
She lifted her arm, flicking her hand, and somewhere on her body a glass bottle fell with a clunk! to the floor. It somehow stayed intact and rolled towards the crowd. A couple passed by, the man’s thick-heeled boots shoving it back to Rodion’s feet, where it stopped for good. The sinner’s eyes, which had watched it, looked back to her.
From the dance floor crowd, Hong Lu walked up. The robes he was wearing were still in pristine condition. “I’m sure that’s why.”
“<Hey, Hong Lu. How are you doing?>”
“Oh, it’s just fantastic! Everyone’s been so nice. Drunken, for sure, but I haven’t had so much fun since J Corp.”
Dante purposefully kept their gaze off Rodion with that remark. “<Nobody’s doing anything stupid?>”
“I saw a woman do some kick, like a can-can, and marvelously fall down. It was like watching a ragdoll, with all of its threads loose and limbs unstuffed.”
“<...Hong Lu, I mean from the sinners.>”
He beamed brighter. “Nothing at all!”
Gregor finally spoke up again, saying “Amazingly, we’re all staying in line.”
“I’d really have thought Don Quixote would be overly excited,” Heathcliff said, “But she seems to be the same as everyone else.”
“Yeah, I hear..well, I hear that the P Corp culture just loves her type. They’re more..”
“Concerningly energetic and impulsive?” Heathcliff said, with a hint of annoyance in his speech.
“<She’s slightly mellowed out…>”
“Don’t say that about Chiquita!” Rodion interjected. “Sure, she’s got a lot going on, but she’s the brightest light we have on the team. Isn’t she just the sweetest thing to watch?”
“Huh. Rodion, that’s somewhat odd from you. I always thought you were the ‘brightest light’ we had.”
“Aww, really, Gregor?”
Meursault, who was the closest seated to Rodion, leaned down and picked up the empty bottle. “Tequila.”
“From that cute little shop in town!”
“The town center we spent an hour in this morning. I remember seeing it there.”
Across the table, Ishmael mouthed some words Dante couldn’t even guess. Heathcliff gave a quick nod in agreement.
“I’ll say, I was taken aback when you offered it to me,” Gregor said, keeping the topic to the present. “Mostly because you magically pulled it from your pocket. Damn, did it burn too.”
Rodion slouched over the table now. Her arms laid crossed, taking up a sizable space for just herself. “My gut just told me there would be a party. I had to, didn’t I?”
“Heh. I suppose you did, since everybody is all the grateful for it. Sinclair got real scared, though.”
“He’s always a little on edge. I can’t blame the kid, knowing what he’s been through.”
“We know he can relax, at least. I roll my eyes every time I remember it, but do you remember in J-”
“Stop.” Rodion sharply huffed. “It’s been said enough tonight. Don’t mention that place again.”
Gregor’s smile swiftly softened into an awkward one. He glanced at Meursault, eyes pleading for any nudge, and he was returned with the usual stoic glare. “Sorry, ma’am. I won’t again.”
“Thank you, dear…” With a quick sigh, she put back on her smile for the second or third time that night. “I must say, thank you as well for accepting my offer. Back, oh, how long ago?”
“With the glass?”
“Yeah! Now, I know it was a big leap for you, but then one after another saw and came up, and that heavy-old bottle got lighter and lighter, and, well, let’s just say everyone loves me now.”
Gregor chuckled at her smirk. “I’m happy to have helped, if that’s the case. I ought to thank you for the second round as well.”
“It really loosened you up! I saw you all around, talking with complete strangers. Ishmael, Heathcliff, Hong Lu, you all would agree that’s new for him, right?”
“Not to call you antisocial by any means,” Heathcliff replied, “But that’s a pleasant sight to see.”
Ishmael picked up her remaining wine, and swishing it around she gently laughed. Before she could think of a proper response, Hong Lu took over and said “Right! I only caught glimpses of you, but you seem quite happy now.”
“I feel good, what can I say?”
“How lovely! I’m glad to hear it, considering that I saw those folks over by the empty bar not long ago, and when you walked by-”
“They surely paid no mind!” Rodion interrupted. “No mind at all, would say?”
Hong Lu was clearly shocked by her reaction, but immediately let it slide. With his usual soft smile, he continued “Yeah, no mind. They said nothing, but they were looking.”
“...well, they must have been looking because you look fantastic, Gregor. The suit really does, well, suit you!”
Gregor had a knowing look in his eyes. The entire table could fill in the blank for what Hong Lu truly meant. Still, though, Rodion’s attempt at a save was impressive.
Just to ensure it, Dante gave a quick compliment. “<If our uniforms were more formal, like now, you would look impressive.>”
“You could say that about everyone here, but thank you.”
“Gregor, babe, I’m sure they really meant it. Really, look at you! Whoever picked that color out- Vergilius, was it?”
“<Possibly.>”
“Vergilius picked wonderfully! Black’s such a good color on you~”
“Oh, really? Well, erm, thank you, Miss Rodya-”
“I like you a lot, you know? You always stick to your little corner in the bus. I never used to mind, since I’m always talking up a storm anyway, but really, you should come to the back sometime with us. Show your face a little.”
On that note, Rodion picked up one of the half-filled wine glasses. Dante looked to where Hong Lu once stood, sure there would be some response, only to be met with empty space. Furiously surveying the area, the manager realized everyone else had made a break for it. The drinks were abandoned. Clearly, everyone except Dante decided to let the two at it alone. When their focus returned to the conversation, Rodion’s new glass had been completely emptied, and she was standing alongside Gregor, who just set down a glass which looked untouched.
“Wow, that is dry-”
“It really is, isn't it? That's the taste of luxury.”
“Well, if that is luxury, I might stick to the slumps,” he laughed. “I really shouldn't have more.”
“Whatever you say.”
“No, seriously. There's this really good one, even if everyone says it tastes like juice. Frankly, though, I don't care. The people who do drink it only do in obligation, but if I ever got my hands on another bottle, I’d be the happiest I’ve ever been!”
“.....”
“<Uhm, guys?>”
“You know what, Greg? I’ll never judge you.” She draped her arm around his neck, which he slightly recoiled at, but ultimately withstood, his face now as flush as her’s. “Nevermind that. I just want you to know how much you're appreciated, y'know?”
“Yeah…”
“<Guys?>”
“Miss Rodya, we should walk away from the table. You’ve clearly had enough.”
“I’ve only had five…six..?”
“Yikes. Tomorrow morning is gonna be a rough one.”
“You say that as if you’re any more innocent!”
“You’re the one towering over me right now!”
“Still!”
“<Are you done now?>”
The two jolted when they registered Dante’s ticking. Gregor moved to back away, but Rodion’s arm barricaded him in her range, so he just smacked his back against it. “Sorry…” “Oh, no worries.”
“<I don’t mind that you two are chatting, but I hope you’ve realized that everyone else has left.>”
The pair stared at the empty spots (especially Ishmael’s, which she left awkwardly pulled out in her rush to leave). The band’s violin started a solo, which rang throughout the room, fighting against the crowd’s equally loud cheers and jeers.
“...not usually the instrument I think of when I think P Corp band,” Rodion whispered.
“It’s not uncommon,” Gregor quietly corrected. “This one’s..no, no. It’s not that different.”
“<I think I’m going to walk around a bit myself, if you two don’t mind. Gregor, definitely keep Rodion away from any more booze.>”
“Got it, manager.”
“C’mon! I said, he’s not better off than I am!”
“<That’s my order.>” Dante stood up, putting their foot in front to start going.
Rodion opened her mouth to further complain, but the booming voice of one of the musicians came on throughout the room through unseen speakers. It startled everyone in the room, but got the attention the musician wanted. Some cracks formed through the crowd that allowed the three to see him. Many dancers backed away as the microphone cord now dragged along the floor.
“¡Buenas noches!, everyone! Are we having a good time tonight?!”
Hollers came in response.
“Fantastico. I know you probably don’t expect me to be speaking, since we have no vocalist, and I’m not about to become one. None of you want to hear that.”
Some people laughed, which the musician was grateful for.
“Nevermind that. I’m just here to announce that this is the moment you’ve been waiting for! It’s the time of the night where everyone is sufficiently warmed up enough to do the real fun dancing. You know what I mean, right?”
The crowd performed their mix of cheers and excitement.
“That’s right- now’s the time we play some real tango! Get your partners and open up the dance floor, and nobody better run into the piano!”
As if they were a general who had just barked orders, everyone moved to the edges of the room, and anyone who wasn’t sure of what to do surely got pushed back by the crowd anyway. The mic was left back on its stand and the speaker had picked up his guitar. He strummed a few chords, which doubled the energy of everyone on the floor. Some ripples came through, with dance partners running to center stage.
“<Wow. What->”
“Nevermind what!” Rodion yelled. “We have to go on!”
Before Gregor could have any sort of reaction, Rodion grabbed his human arm and dragged him into the crowd, weaving him through the hundreds of people on the way to the open circle. It took Dante a second to process the speed at which they vanished, but when it clicked, the sound that came out sounded like their clock head would overwind and pop.
“<GREGOR!>”
They bolted into the sea of people. Some saw the flaming clock and stepped aside, but many others were incredibly unaware of their surroundings and got shoved aside. Harsh words in their direction were plentiful. Around halfway through, a line of people had tightly formed, and unable to find the end, Dante seriously wondered why they even bothered. But those were their employees, and the more time went on the more a looming PR crisis could emerge, so now they had to promptly be on their A-game to not let shit hit the fan.
Instead, they hit a very short blonde woman, who happened to be Don Quixote watching the tango.
“Manager Esquire! Tis a lovely evening, is it now?”
“<I’ve probably had to navigate a thousand people and been called every derogatory name in the past minute, but otherwise, it’s been a good day.>”
“Ah…”
“<I’m in a bit of a hurry, if you can't tell. Have you by chance seen-”>
“Lady Rodion and Sir Gregor? Yes! But a moment ago, they marched on through, and I waved them off with good luck for their dance. I was told thou might come by! Gregor, poor sir, looked panicked, but I am reassured that they shall be a gracious lot.”
“<They’re heading for the center. I gotta hurry. You should come with me.>”
Those trademark sparkles appeared in her eyes. “To see the dance?! Of course I shall join thou’s journey!”
Dante and Don Quixote set off through the remaining rows. The music wasn't horrifically loud, but in the stress, Dante was almost sure a gear in their head would burst from it. A path opened up as more and more room was made for spectators, and with surprising haste they made it to the front line in seconds. The gaps they waved through quickly filled up, and once the manager and sinner settled themselves, the center of attention was obvious: Rodion and Gregor, one happy, one terrified but managing.
They must have gotten priority picks, as they were in the true middle of the room, with every other pair having to dance on the edges around them. Their location and uniqueness stood out. Everyone’s eyes were generally moving towards them, a fact which would only compound their current moods. To give it to them, Rodion was noticeably tall, especially amongst the smaller statures of the other women, and the way she grabbed Gregor’s prosthetic arm brought further curiosity.
“How peculiar. I rarely ever see the woman lead this dance. Tis a fascinating sight, though,” Don Quixote commented.
Dante nodded. They hadn't seen anything like it before, and were admittedly mesmerized by the movements. Poor Gregor looked stiff and reserved, keeping his prosthetic arm close by, likely to avoid slicing at his dance partner, but Rodion’s energy never faltered. Their steps were in rhythm with the music and had a certain grace to them (Rodion knowing dance wouldn't surprise Dante, although Gregor’s poise, however slight, was genuinely intriguing to see on the man). Whenever they tipped down, they quickly but clearly exchanged words. Over the minute or so they initially watched, his demeanor visibly relaxed with each one.
By then, Faust had arrived and stood to the left of Dante, taking in the performance as well.
“<I must say, they're surprisingly good at this, especially for how impaired they were moments ago.>”
“Tango,” Faust began, “Is one of the most recognizable styles out of the P Corp Nest. It's a popular partner dance, especially for social events like the one we are attending. While I cannot identify a particular sub-style in the movements, although it is most likely the ballroom style, it seems that Rodion is using her position as the leader to quickly teach Gregor how to engage.”
“Thou art to know, I have danced it before! A beautiful dance, indeed. An intimate, embraceful, one.”
Faust listed off some more facts about the dance, which Don Quixote had many opinions on. Their manager ignored them. With their eyes still firmly on watching, just to make sure nothing bad was about to happen, Dante saw exactly what she meant. Physically close, arms always touching even when they spun out, their footwork increasingly more complex…Gregor was finally looking confident and happy doing it, and Rodion was surprisingly coordinated for how drunk she should have been. Dante could only assume she had a high tolerance. Gregor was certainly taking the occasional misstep, but it didn't look like anyone's feet would be stepped on quite yet. The end of his prosthetic arm never came too close.
The song faded out, and everyone in the circle stopped to catch their breath. Staying in place, the happy pair (couple?) collapsed into each other's arms, in an odd but relieved side-hug. Rodion fixed up her jacket quickly and said something, which Gregor laughed at. Dante thought about walking up to them, but quickly decided against it. Standing there was more entertaining.
The guitarist gave another chord and brought the dancers back to attention. The violin squeaked, and with a rapid countdown, they went into a presto tempo. The crowd started clapping to the beat, and Don Quixote immediately joined in, so Dante did so with a moderate effort, nudging Faust to follow. While unenthusiastic, she also joined in. Rodion was living for the speed, dragging Gregor along into the seats and waltz-y steps that he just managed to keep in time with. She gripped tightly onto his prosthetic just to make sure he didn't go flying without her guidance. Like the last song, he soon got the swing of it, and comfortably could follow along. They shuffled around the center, letting their hands guide their gaze, with Rodion giving a wink when they looked out towards the trio of their work team.
About three minutes into the song, the violin found itself with another solo (somehow, Dante thought this wasn't normal and that this player just loved their solos). It was flowy and horribly catchy, and something about it gave Rodion a wild creative spark. She pulled Gregor in tight, and they nodded in silent agreement, but Gregor couldn't have known what his partner had in store before she pushed him back, quickly moved her hands up to hold him by the elbows, and swung him with all her might so that she flew along with him. By sheer luck, both leaned back onto the exact part of their shoe heels they needed to not fall right over. Gregor regained the fear in his eyes, but Rodion closed them, enjoying the breeze as if she was on a roller coaster. They rotated three times! Eventually Gregor started losing his balance, as his non-dance shows wore into the tile, and used what strength he had to throw Rodion to the side, which landed on amazingly. Their soles hit the ground with a THUD!, side by side, arms still locked with their free one flowing out in a curve. The violin hit two final, staccato notes before falling silent.
The crowd roared in applause and calls of “¡Ole!”. The pair got an ovation that drowned out any other possible sound. Everyone knew it was for them, too, as the floor had been cleared solely for them at some point during the song. Dante’s best guess was the locals curious to see the clear outsiders do their cultural dance, either to great success or great failure. Clearly, by some mix of secret talent and miracle, they had struck gold. Some familiar faces were now in the front, such as Sinclair and Yi Sang, who were also politely clapping.
The squeak of the microphone came back. The applause slowly quieted, and the band's guitarist waited with a face full of glee.
“Well, well! What an amazing showcase right there!”
A few more claps came around.
“I just had to take a moment to acknowledge those two. What a duo. You shamed everyone else off the stage.”
Gregor gave a polite wave and Rodion raised hers high. The guitarist kicked away the cord, and when Rodion noticed it, she promptly stopped what she was doing and strided over to where he stood.
“Ma’am? I-”
She ripped the mic from his hands, which he didn't resist. She tapped the head a few times to make sure it didn't suddenly disconnect.
“Hello, hello? This working?”
“<...>”
Faust sighed. “Dante, if she says something objectionable, we can remove her.”
“<That works.>”
“Soooo,” Rodion continued on. “Sorry to just steal the spotlight for the third time, but I have a very important thing to say. Gregor Samsa…”
Whispers erupted. Dante could suddenly feel their heart pumping. They tightened their shoulders, waiting.
“...I like you.”
“...”
“<...>”
…
“Yeah, I said it. I like you. Publicly. I like you, like, a lot! Why else did I drag you out here!”
The silence remained. With his eyes wide, the mix of bewilderment and mutual understanding was honestly blurry so far away, but clear to the trained eyes of Dante.
“And it's really not just that,” she went on. “You’re very underrated, you know? I'm not afraid to come up here and say it. I said it back at the table and I’ll say it again. You deserve more credit. I…uh…shit, my train of thought…”
Gregor went over to her, wrapping his fingers around the mic. Defeated, Rodion let him have it.
“Yeah, you're not gonna remember anything you said up here tomorrow.”
That cut the tension throughout, and some laughs echoed throughout the room.
“I must admit, Rodion, I do appreciate this. I’ll say it…I like you, too. However you accept that.”
Rodion accepted it with a hug. It was tight enough to make Gregor audibly wheeze the air in his lungs out. He returned the favor, though. They were soon locked in a tight embrace, which the guitarist conveniently used to grab the microphone back.
“With that all said, let's leave them to it. The floor is open, and with this next song, you’ll want to be there!”
The atmosphere returned to what it had been all night. The dancers returned, the band continued, and the tango pair with their fifteen seconds of fame continued to hug it out. The mood was mellow for them, but a pleasant sort.
They inevitably had to let go.
“Thanks, babe. I don't know why I did that…”
“Don't sweat it. I'm just glad the feeling is mutual.”
If you meant as friends, or….
Mephistopheles eventually arrived to pick the LCB back up. Everyone was raving about how fun it was, including whatever the hell had happened back there. Vergilius was just happy to see everyone alive and without a disturbance to report. Rodion went on first, carrying a conversation with Hong Lu. Gregor stayed behind last, until only Dante stood outside the doors with him.
“<Gregor, did she mean what I think she means?>”
“Good question. I can't take it without a few grains of salt. In my heart, though… I hope she did.”
They stepped on and drove off, leaving that night behind.